Hello everyone,

Due work commitments filling up my time, I will take this week off from posting. A new arc will take off starting next chapter and I'll need to take some time to plan it out too.

Posting will resume next Monday (03.04.2023). Thanks a ton to everyone for checking out my story, for all the comments and all the support!

Since you took the time to read my notice, here's a small preview of next Monday's chapter:

The bottom of the open ocean was a lonesome place. Hundreds of miles one could cross and not meet a single other being. At the same time, if you looked like prey, passing even a hundred feet was a life-threatening endeavor.

The giant snail, Babel, was never an easy target, although countless mutants craved its fortress-like shell. In the beginning, Finn had to fend off attackers daily, but this was no longer the case. After countless days, weeks, and months of fighting, it looked like the boy had wiped the ocean clean.

Now, the giant snail could slime away in peace, disturbed only by the occasional fish. To Babel’s delight, their numbers kept increasing during the past few years.

‘Die in the process… A worthy sacrifice… I still wonder, why did everyone want me dead?’

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These thoughts haunted Finn throughout his training. He knew returning home would be difficult. He knew what awaited him was war.

‘Master is powerful,’ said Babel. ‘Powerful beings have powerful enemies; I would know.’

Finn clicked his tongue but did not refute.

‘It’s been five years, but Loki still hasn’t told me anything. The stronger beings of this world are plotting something, and it’s not just war.’

Finn knew what awaited him was a hot mess, perhaps even his own death. As such, he spent the past five years doing the only thing he knew would make a difference: train and fight and train some more.

For five years straight, he kept increasing his powers. Even when he was teaching the others, he was studying their bodies and learning their techniques. Even after they left to pursue their own paths to power, Finn continued training. His path was his own, and after five, long years it bore fruit.

The young man riding his snail along the ocean floor was no longer the Finn of the past.

He was taller by almost two feet. His muscles were perfectly sculpted. His green hair now barely reached his shoulders and his eyes were a deep purple.

Perhaps most striking of all, there were two long, sharp horns attached to his forehead. They were as long as his palms and as thick as his thumbs; these goat-like protrusions sent chills into any creature that crossed Finn's path.

When they first started growing, even Babel was nervous. However, Finn soon put his worries to rest.

There was a use to these horns, he had cultivated them with purpose, and that purpose was now finally complete.