There was always a bigger picture. You’d worry about your job or your family, but usually, the conflicts and tribulations of the world at whole hardly touched the surface of your swirling emotions. It was impossible to even know about a fraction of problems in life, let alone have the capacity to understand and internalize everything. It was one of the reasons I stayed a shut-in, mostly. I didn’t have time for Bob down the street when I had three different planes of existence to weigh me down.

Rodney scrunched his face up. “Yeah, I’m not seeing it?”

Wight lowered the drawing and looked a little dejected. In fairness to the Blank, it didn’t look much different from the prior etchings of random straight lines I had seen my patron put to paper previously. It was only with our shared perception of things that I could make an attempt at guessing the meaning behind the scrawling.

“It’s… the triangles from the dining room, right? Heaven, Mortal Plane, Hell - except now there is more.”

[I believe so, Eric.]

I filled in further blanks as he nodded his head. “There are planes outside of the ones we know - outside of this system. Fuck knows what, though.” I went to push my glasses up with my missing hand, before correcting with my right.

After a quick grimace at seeing my rejuvenating stump again, Rodney clasped his chin in thought. “So you’re saying things like the Hells but abstracted from the evil demon stuff? Like there could be a plane of infinite sea - or an empty void-“

“Where a giant rat god could live,” I interrupted him.

“It’s not something I’ve really heard about before.” He shrugged. “We already have enough unfulfilled question marks about Heaven and the divine, and the plans of the High Hells - if we start worrying about-“

“No worrying necessary.” I held my right hand up to apologize for interrupting him a second time. "There's just a feeling that these… unbound planes are much harder to get to - maybe only through certain powers or artifacts?” I looked to Wight for some hint or backup.

[My knowledge is limited, but what you are saying seems reasonable.]

“It was only through the magic chest that I went, and we saw the rat, and it was inert after that, right?”

Wight nodded.

“Maybe…” Rodney screwed his face up in thought. “It’s like you’ve become their champion? A single person, chosen to bear their powers in the three planes we have access to.”

“Could be I’m just unlucky, and my body will shatter into ten thousand maggots.” I sighed. “No good speculating, really - like you said, we have enough trouble with the portal and Heaven.”

[Plus, the Org trying to kill you and Pearl.]

I tapped my fingers on the arm of the recliner. “If we did get your pact from them and found a way to undo it, I still wouldn’t be able to handle you at full power, right?”

[Correct.]

“Then - as much as I hate it - we might be better off letting them have control. For my safety.”

[Agreed, but as soon as you are capable, I want to burn the Organization to the ground and destroy everything they have created. No offense, the Rodney.]

“None… none taken.” He slunk a little lower in his chair. “They are my employer, and it would take me a while to retrain into a normal job.”

I thought the answer to that would be pretty clear. If we destroyed the Org, then that would leave us free to kill all demons without having someone watching over us and creating problems. If he wanted to, he could join us - we’d make a little mercenary outfit out of the four of us. That was either a brainless pipe dream or the dry end of a straw already steeped in my future.

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Either way, it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up to them both yet. Too early to see my paper creations burn amongst the harsh light of reality. There would surely be a time more dire or opportune when I could spring forth with the idea to save the day.

[Are you okay, Eric? You are smiling while staring at the ceiling.]

“Yeah.” My eyes drifted down towards him. “I can be happy.”

“It’s probably more that you’ve just become the vessel for an eldritch god and lost your hand - and you’re staring at the ceiling, smiling.” Rodney leaned towards me. “Do you need other meds?”

“No! It’s just - you know… things aren’t so bad right now.”

They both narrowed their eyes at me. Apparently, losing my appendage should be a one-way ticket to sadsville. If I were unable to regrow it, or if I were alone, then maybe I’d sink into morose contemplation. But then, they’d not be here to see it, anyway.

[We are progressing, although it has not been an easy start.]

Cartoon Eric. Eldritch god. Drugged by the Org. Tried to kill Pearl. Blew up a nightclub. Lost my hand.

Yeah, there were definitely more losses and setbacks than clear paths forward. In truth, we’d always had a rough deal of it. Biting off more than we could chew and breaking teeth - but getting a taste of the pie, nonetheless. We hadn’t really achieved much personal growth in our short club adventure - aside from becoming a gang leader and killing a lot of demons with my new power.

“How did you understand the rat?” I tilted my head at my patron as he began drawing again.

[I do not know, it was not Demonic.]

“Hmm.” I frowned and looked at the Blank, who had half as many clues as I did. The Org might know, but then again, I figured if they had any idea what was down there, they’d want to do a little more with me than tongue-lash my ear-holes and send me on the way with divorce pills. I would need to be careful that they didn’t see me do anything like that ability again.

“Rodney, is there a way to block the Org from watching me?”

“Ah. Not off the top of my head… although something about your new power disrupted the channel - you might be able to work it into something that can mask you?”

[Sounds like a good way for Eric to accidentally blow his head off.]

“That’s one part I for sure won’t regenerate. In that case, Wight? Do we have the portal location for the Pig King?”

His marker stopped on the page before he tilted his head towards me.

[I do not, but I may be able to retrieve the records. You wish to try to speak to the supposed god again?]

“Maybe. If it is offering some sort of patron deal, then I would like to learn what it wants from me.”

[I see.]

Wight didn’t seem too convinced. Whether that was due to jealousy over me having a new power source or he didn’t think I’d get any suitable answers… I probably would have assumed the former. He was definitely becoming more than just a mysterious mist that would berate me into killing demons - and I would be lying if I said I missed that. However, Wight was more himself, which was the most important thing to me currently.

“I’m wondering if we should check out the club too after all this has blown over?” I looked over at Rodney for backup.

“What do you hope to find?”

“Answers, I suppose. Why I did the thing, what the actual effect was. Maybe Seth’a’s corpse would be conveniently near the top, so we don’t have to worry about her.”

[We could use to find out.]

“With one hand, it’d be hard to channel it?” I waved my nub in the air. Even on the painkillers they had given me, it should be hurting more than it did. Not that I was complaining.

[I don’t think the physical contact specifies hands, Eric.]

Rodney leaned forward, a grimace across his face. “Dibs on your good hand.”

“Alright, I guess it’ll pass the time in a way that won’t wake Pearl up - and we’ll be able to confirm the devil is dead, right?”

[Certainly.]

Wight stood and placed his paper and marker on the floor, then pushed his box closer to the pair of us. Almost taking a deep breath, he held out his two hands - the one closest to me turning into wispy tendrils to wrap around my wrist. I held Rodney’s hand with my right, and they completed the connection. As we closed our eyes, Wight began casting.

And then my eyes opened. It was hard to judge the passage of time from within the basement due to it having no windows. I blinked a couple of times and raised an eyebrow at Wight. Rodney did similarly, as he came to just after me.

[Seth’a yet lives, in an entirely different location.]

My brow furrowed. “Is this new location exceptionally cliche or dangerous?”

[It is possible, Eric.]

“Can you set up the portal for it?”

[That is not advisable. Frankly, I am rather appalled that was your first thought.]

I sunk back into the chair. My shooting hand was still fine; it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to appear beside the devil and put a few shots in her. Finish the job. Knowing that things were never that easy and the thought of Pearl giving me the cold shoulder eventually drew me away from the idea.

“Alright, not today then.” Not tomorrow, either, most likely. Seth’a gets to live for a few more days. “I feel like I’ve done enough talking today for the whole week, anyway.”

My introspection to bullets fired to family life ratio was way off.

Plenty of time to be morose at the funeral.

Plenty of demons to kill the day after.

Perhaps today, I’d enjoy the company I had somehow kept.