I could have laughed were it not starting to become stale. The fact that questions had to swirl around in my head until death shook my hand with a wink, and answers were given at a steep cost - well, that was a rough way of problem-solving. I’d hate to call it cliche because then I’d start to love it instead. Throwing myself from the precipice intentionally would just be asking for the rug to be pulled away, just for my mortal form to swan-dive onto the jagged rocks below.

Entropy didn’t have an opposite. I saw that now. It was part of everything being equal, sure - in time, everything fell to ruin. That was some way of balance. But the looming ability desperate for a chance to impress me was something more simple - something I should have realized in all my time slogging away for the Org in Hell.

Demonic and Divine energy had to balance too. Restoring the Sky and preventing the demons from taking the mortal plane and further - that is what Rat God wanted, and in some manner, we were working towards that already.

But this was an even baser level of balance. The raw power of each of the different forces that guided me. Protecting and strengthening our team. When the Watcher touched me, I saw it all in a spark. I understood why certain powers were too much for me to handle, why some broke me.

And so it was with a smile I had felt the green sniper beam illuminate my face as the true boon of the Rat God was revealed to me.

I was struck by the shot - but my brains didn’t splash against the floor. A sizzling hole was not rent through my skull. Instead, I had briefly absorbed the power with a sickening shudder, the power still remaining - stuck. It swirled around my insides, incomprehensible and threatening to liquidate my organs like a blender. Except, I knew how to get it out.

The revolver raised upwards to the forehead of the Watcher, his brief shock in my lack of demise causing him to stumble backward, stunned.

There was pain that shot through my arm, but nothing as bad as before. A small sphere of radiant light slammed into the head of the demon, knocking his curled white wig from his head.

It stayed lodged there, beaming amongst a slight crack in his skull, just as it had done with Cherub. After a brief pause, the skeleton dropped to his knees, arms limp.

“Not going to run away to Gunther?” I drawled, empty of emotion.

{I… cannot move… what have you done?}

“Your Hunter is probably too far away for me to blast, huh? Shame.” I looked idly around the room as if his distant location could be revealed.

//I can’t pick him up from here.

Wight walked around, his clawed feet plodding against the stone floor, and he stood in front of the stunned patron.

[Hello, the Watcher.]

{Wight, you have to-}

I watched as the birdman put his clawed hands around the skeleton's head, thumbs in his eye sockets.

[You seem to have a nasty crack forming.]

Despite his prior lack of strength, my patron began forcing the skull apart, the crack in the middle where my shot still lay lengthening across the pale bone as he applied further pressure.

{Wight!}

With a hideous crack that reverberated around the chamber, Wight jammed his beak into the gap - pushing my bullet inside Watcher’s head. He inhaled as if he was trying to - no, he was - absorbing whatever energy lay inside. With a pop and wave of dark energy, Gunther’s patron vanished, leaving the bird demon to wipe his mouth on the back of his feathered arm.

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I had already activated the return home; the seconds went by almost instantly as we were shunted back to the basement.

And for a moment, as Rodney clambered to move his gear out of the way and Wight began to pool back to this plane… I just zoned out.

Eric Redd should be dead.

It didn’t feel fair that I had escaped by the convenience of being chock-full of all sorts of uninvited power. More than that, though, the realization of it all had sunk into my mind - the part of me trying to avoid the truth despite how glaringly obvious it had been.

I had divine power, too.

How could Last Lantern be anything but? I had seen the radiance and power to fight and resist demons but had just waved it away as if it could just be me having a bit more pep in my step those days.

“Eric? Eric? You alright there?”

Rodney looked worried - and although not as destructive as our escapades at the Nightclub, that was certainly an interesting series of events.

“Yeah, need a coffee, though.” I headed toward the stairs with little else to say. I saw Wight exchange a glance with the Blank behind me, but I was tired. Confused. Fully whelmed.

“I’ll make it; you take a seat.” Rodney nudged me as we reached the dining room. The recliner was back by the window, so I sunk into it there. I exhaled deeply and watched as my patron plodded over to me.

[What did you do, Eric?]

“What did you do, Wight?” I sighed again and removed my glasses.

[You first.]

“Alright.” I rubbed at my eyes. “I’m not entirely sure - but I absorbed the demonic energy from the attack and used it to power my shot. Instead of the ability destroying my body in the process, it expended that additional energy.”

[Interesting. But how did you absorb it?]

“Rat God power? Something to do with the balance of forces. The skills that aren’t destructive are harder to figure out, huh?” I sunk further into the chair. Maybe I could ask him the next time I saw him - it seemed powerful but situational. Normal attacks that had demonic power wouldn’t grant me enough excess to convert into something safe.

[I liked the part where you shot the Watcher.]

“Right? That’s Last Light. Just seems to stun demons rather than do much damage, however. You would think an attack of divine energy would do more damage than my demonic abilities.”

[Sometimes killing isn’t the answer, Eric.]

I furrowed my tired brow at him, expecting him to now tell me that we didn’t need to kill all demons. As if today wasn’t exhausting enough, he would rock the boat in anticipation of seeing if I could really swim.

[I stuck my mouth inside the Watcher’s head.]

“Yeah. I saw that part - but why, and what did it actually do?”

Wight sat down on the floor in front of me and cupped his beak in thought.

[I stole part of him. Inhaled it, and then I stuck the dagger through his neck.]

I nodded along, as if that was a normal series of events. Other than the dagger attack, I had seen most of that and had made my assumptions that seemed to pan out. “But what does that mean? He’s not dead, right?”

[No. Weakened, but he would have returned to the pact vessel at the Org.]

Hmm. I wondered how Gunther would explain coming back there with his tail between his legs to answer why his patron had been vaporized and left him out in the Hells alone.

[I also left something inside his head.]

Wight’s crimson eyes shone against his dark black feathers, and his beak seemed to curve into a smile.

“What did you add?”

[Fear of us, Eric.]

Even without that, he would probably think twice about coming for me again. His ace-up-the-sleeve tactic had just failed miserably, and to him, I’d probably come off as immune to the attack - or he had missed. Then we had killed his patron. Regardless of whether his connection was anywhere near as strong as mine and Wight’s - that still must hurt at least his ego.

“Here we go.” Rodney came through with three mugs, placing them on the dining room table. “I don’t really know what to say, Eric. You just beat death once again.”

“I don’t think death is trying too hard.” I grimaced. That was tempting fate, but until I ran out of trump cards, I could allow a little living dangerously. “Oh, Wight, could you grab my phone for me?”

[Certainly, Eric.]

As much as I didn’t want to use him for running errands, I didn’t feel much like moving. Or speaking, or existing - yet I continued to persist in life. Pure misery and no Pearl.

“Ah.” Rodney patted at his pockets. He was wearing a hooded top and jeans now that he had the chance to vanish this morning after our meditative session. “Left my phone back home when I went to get changed.”

Wight returned and passed it over, the screen illuminating at my presence. Two messages and a couple of missed calls. I opened the important one first. I nodded my thanks as emotions rolled around in my stomach.

Out house hunting. Hope you rest well x

Yep, my rest was pretty great. I grimaced in consideration of what to reply - or even if I should ask in what manner she was house hunting. I hit the pause on that train of thought and opened up the second message, from the Organisation.

The presence of Eric Redd and Rodney Blackburn is requested immediately.

I turned the phone to the Blank, who recoiled in horror upon reading it aloud.

“News travels fast, huh?” I smiled humorlessly. They didn't even add a little cross.