Rowan and Marcus walked side-by-side into the massive, metal city. Every surface was sharp, matte black metal. Only a psychopath could have designed something so unwelcoming. There were no benches or chairs, and you couldn’t lean against a wall without being cut or pierced. Even the ground was made from unforgiving dimpled metal plates that hurt his joints while walking on it.
“So, this is what the god of power’s soul looks like,” Rowan commented.
“What do you think power is?” Marcus asked with a hint of condescension in his voice.
Rowan shrugged. “Guess it’s what keeps the lights on.”
“Power is the ability to remove obstacles. Anyone can have anything they want as long as they can take it. Most people are weak, though, and can’t remove the obstacles preventing them from having their desires.”
Rowan shrugged. “Not everything a person wants can be taken.”
Marcus gestured around with his glowing spear tip. “I can take anything. That is the nature of power. If something stands in my way, I have the strength to take it.”
Rowan studied the red-orange horizon. “Some things can only be given and never taken.”
“Absurd,” Marcus said. “If something can be had, then it can be taken.”
Rowan smirked. “You’ve never heard of love, have you?”
“Useless and sentimental.” Marcus was silent for a moment. “I see what you are implying: one cannot take love. But you are wrong—love can be won by overcoming obstacles, which requires power.”
“I can see why you and Ellie got together,” Rowan said.
Marcus scoffed. “I doubt you know anything about me. We only met while preparing for the ascension, and you were oblivious to everything. If you are telling me that she gave you love, then you are a fool.”
Rowan nodded. “No, Ellie never loved me. And it’s true that I’m not much for reading old books, but I’m here in your soul now, and there’s more than a few subtle hints about who you are.”
“I have no idea what she saw in you,” Marcus said.
Rowan coughed. “I think she dated me to get revenge on her parents. I doubt she was ever interested in me.”
“Obviously,” Marcus said. "Trust me—literally no one thought it was because of your looks or your inability to read.”
“Ouch,” Rowan said tonelessly. “It’s fun breaking down my failed relationship with Ellie, but is that really why I’m here?”
Marcus clapped Rowan on the back. “You’re the one that came here, but now that I have you, I don’t want you mucking up my return to Earth.”
“Why is it that you want to return to Earth? You have all these… creations to keep your company.” Rowan pointed toward the clusters of Ellie angels that, he supposed, were squadrons or maybe flocks.
Marcus chuckled. “They look great, but as you pointed out, this is all me, and they’re more or less robots without a single interesting thought.”
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“So, you are going back to Earth because you are lonely?”
Marcus grabbed Rowan by the arm and swung him around. He jabbed a finger into Rowan’s chest with each word. “I have been alone for twenty-five years.”
“Do you trim those nails?” Rowan rubbed his chest. “I’ve been virtually alone for the same time.”
Marcus’s laugh took on a maniacal tone. “Virtually alone! On Earth! People are everywhere. Even if you didn’t talk to them, you saw and heard them. You don’t know true isolation.”
“So, you’re lonely and decided that it was worth it to kill a little girl to return?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Not yet. You’ve been allowed to walk around on Earth for years.” Marcus shoved Rowan, sending him flying into a steel wall. “Do you know how few people have the potential to host a god? You have to have at least disciple-level power. That’s not even one in a million people.”
“She’s a child.” Rowan stood and brushed himself off.
“She’s a mortal,” Marcus said, “They don’t matter.”
“What about Gabriela?” Rowan asked.
“My mother?” Marcus laughed. “A useful tool, like any other mortal.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Said like a man trying to protect his mother from an enemy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Marcus said. “You’re not much of an enemy, and you aren’t leaving here to threaten her.”
“How are you planning to keep me here?” Rowan asked. “I’m the only one that can travel the void.”
“You can’t even do that well,” Marcus said. “You ran into me like a kid with a learner’s permit in a grocery store parking lot.”
“Hey! It’s not as easy as it sounds!” Rowan rubbed his forehand. “I probably should have looked both ways.”
The ground began to shift. Rowan had to cover his ears as a grinding sound reverberated through his being. A large glass case filled with water rose up from a dark opening. There was a clunk as the gears stopped, and the glass case came to rest. Water sloshed as a metal cover was lifted by four angels.
“Here’s the thing,” Marcus said. “I can’t kill you. You’re as immortal as the rest of us. I might try to blow off some steam, but I’ll need a place to put you when I'm done. I figure that most of what you can do will be hampered by a few thousand gallons of water, which should keep you here until the next time I want to toy with you. Maybe you’ll understand what being alone is truly like by then.”
“A few thousand gallons,” Rowan repeated. “Thanks for making it so spacious.”
“Least I can do since you’ll be drowning non-stop for eternity.”
“Very thoughtful,” Rowan said. He pointed at the massive spire in the center of the town. “And that’s where your consciousness resides?”
When Marcus looked toward the spire, Rowan pulled in magic and shaped it into the perfect illusion of himself. Using all of his will, he had the illusion move while he blended himself into the wall. It wasn’t invisibility, but Marcus might buy it if he wasn’t paying attention.
Marcus shrugged. “I’m pretty much everywhere. You get that this is my soul, right?” Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked at the illusionary Rowan.
Rowan was about to shift into his raven form, but Marcus spun around and hurled his spear. The searing hot tip lanced straight through his shoulder and pinned Rowan to the steel wall.
“I heard about your illusions from Ellie,” Marcus said.
Rowan tugged at the spear, but it didn’t budge. “You talk?” Rowan asked through gritted teeth. “I thought you were alone.”
“We can’t talk directly. We have to pass messages through our disciples like teenagers.” Marcus stood over Rowan. “I suppose you don’t know what it’s like having a disciple.”
Rowan panted as he tugged at the immovable spear. “How do you get new disciples?”
“The secret is always to have more than one.” Marcus grabbed the spear shaft and yanked. “That way, if you lose one, you have others, and your faith doesn’t die out.”
Rowan collapsed to the ground, bleeding. “There aren’t that many people capable of being a disciple.”
“Which is why it’s important to keep them all to yourself,” Marcus said. “I can’t tell if you came here to learn how to be a god or if you are stupid.”
Rowan tried to stand. “Evidence suggests the latter.”
Marcus kicked Rowan in the chest, hurling him into the steel wall again. “Clearly.”
With a whistle, two angels descended. “I hope you don’t mind the dark. I don’t want to spend eternity looking at you.” He looked to the angels. “Put him in the tank, then send it back below to the high-security area.”