Theodore rubbed at his temples. The headache was constant and it was getting worse.

“Are you okay?”

It was one of the guards, standing on top of the wall. Theodore had climbed up to stand next to him, looking out at Route 4 heading west. He had no real reason to, had just felt the urge. It wasn’t like Theodore was assigned watches, none of his team were.

Roger was angry, which might have been a reason Theodore was on the wall. A way to avoid the older man. Lochlan had assigned Roger’s team, which was really Theodore’s team, to stay behind at the school.

For protection.

They weren’t part of what Lochlan had planned. What his “elite” groups were engaged in. It made some sense to keep at least one of the adventuring teams behind. They comprised the strongest and highest Leveled Adapted in the Clan. Couldn’t go taking all of them on the mission. What if the Silver Bark did some sneakiness of their own?

No one thought they would. The Elves, from what the Clan’s own elf said, were too arrogant for that. They had their code of honor, which wasn’t really honorable at all, that they would follow. No one expected an attack on the school.

By the elves, but there were lots of other things in the woods surrounding the Clanhold. So Theodore understood why they’d been left behind. It was Roger’s fault after all. The man had angered Lochlan, so the rest of them got punished.

Theodore wondered if Roger was outliving his usefulness.

“I’m fine,” Theodore replied to the guard, trying hard to not snap at the man.

That wouldn’t create a good impression. And Theodore still needed to create a good impression.

He rubbed at his temples some more, looking down the road. He didn’t see anything. Shrugging, Theodore climbed down from the wall, making his way back up to the school. The yard was busy, as it always was. There were construction projects, scavengers coming and going, guards shifting rotations and even just people that had nothing to do roaming around. Theodore had never been a people person, but even he missed some of the available activities they no longer had.

No stores to go shopping at. No restaurants. No movies. There was a library, but it was a two day journey with some monsters and most of the books were slowly making their way to the school. It wasn’t really safe to go hiking, not for most people.

The Clan had started up music programs. They even had a comedy night, which Theodore had found to be truly awful. The people had laughed but he wasn’t sure if it was out of pity or if they’d just forgotten what good comedy was.

Theodore didn’t like Lochlan Brady, Edward Turner or even Kristin Conway, the three people that were in charge of the Clan, but he had to give them credit. They were working hard to try to alleviate the boredom and depression that was running rampant in the Clan.

He had to give them credit for trying but hoped they didn’t succeed.

That depression made recruitment for his hive easier.

It was still a slow build up. The hive was growing but not fast. Which was according to plan. Theodore’s plan, not the voices. The voice had no plan, just suggestions. They didn’t want to attract too much attention. Recruiting the wrong person could be disastrous if that person changed their mind and went and told the authorities. That could ruin everything before Theodore and the voice were ready.

Not that Theodore thought anyone in the hive could change their minds, not once they were in deep.

And their time was coming.

A sudden spike of pain made Theodore wince. It settled, the headache a dull throb that never left, never changed. Sleeping was difficult. Thinking was starting to be but luckily the voice was there to help when the pain was too much.

He knew he had to be careful. If he showed too much pain in front of one of the Healers they would insist on fixing it. That wouldn’t do. They might find out too much.

Theodore looked to the west. He couldn’t see through the log wall and what he sensed was still miles away but it was getting closer. Every day it got closer. Every day the headache got worse. But the voice was coming.

Soon the voice would be there.

“Hey, look out,” a rough voice said.

Theodore shook his head, coming back to focus. A man walked by, having to alter his path to walk around Theodore. It was one of the relative newcomers. Pittsfield. Theodore thought that’s where the man was from. He’d come in with a group of a dozen or so. Most of them were laborers now, but the man led an Adventuring Party. They’d just lost a person hadn’t they?

The man, Josh Hauser, didn’t like Lochlan and didn’t try to hide his feelings.

Theodore watched him go, wondering if Hauser would be a good fit for the Hive.

***

“It’s not here,” Gorn growled, slamming his club against a tree.

The cracking and splintering sound echoed through the valley, joined by the crashing of the thirty foot tall tree as it fell into the others around it. A thinner birch snapped, falling against an oak, the impact knocking loose branches to the ground. Leaves rustled, the shockwave moving through the forest. Birds flew into the air, crying out in agitation.

None of the other giants around bothered to look.

Trees falling was a common sound.

“He says it’s here,” Yuri replied, clapping his fellow Hillgrowl on the shoulder. “So we keep searching.”

Gorn started to say something but Yuri squeezed his shoulder, calming the other giant. With a growl, reaching out and pushing a thin tree, which was pulled out by the roots, falling to the ground, Gorn stalked away.

Yuri watched him, worried. Gorn wasn’t the first to be frustrated. Giants were notoriously short tempered. It wouldn’t be long before they started infighting. Arguing among giants was usually solved by fighting. The one that died lost the argument. It had taken all of Yuri’s patience and strength, and the fear of the Hillgrowl Chieftain, to hold all these giants in line. They weren’t used to working together for anything beyond a raid. Putting them to work? That was unheard of.

But somehow they were.

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For now. Yuri didn’t think it would last much longer.

“Make an example of him,” a voice said.

Yuri turned, fighting to keep his expression neutral. He wanted to roar, to seize the speaker and break them in half. But that was folly. The spark was half Yuri’s size and skinny. There was nothing to them. Pale white skin, long red hair. That was it. Nothing of substance. Not when compared to a giant. But Yuri knew better.

The speaker would be the one to rip Yuri in half, most likely without raising a finger to touch the giant.

“No,” Yuri said.

“Kill him and no others will complain,” the Si-Te-Cah said.

Yuri didn’t know his name. He had never given it and it had never been given. He was just the Si-Te-Cah. The giants of the Hillgrowl did not venture far out into the wider Connected System. They weren’t as smart as the elves, or as curious as the gnomes. They wanted to raid and pillage as much as the orcs, but for the giants going too far out into other worlds felt unnatural. They rarely were part of a newly Connected World’s first invaders. They came after, reaping the benefits of what the other Adapted races had created. But even they had heard of the Si-Te-Cah.

Yuri had not been there when the Si-Te-Cah had negotiated with the Hillgrowl Clanchief. He hadn’t been the first chosen to lead the raiding party. That giant, Discord, had not lived long past his first arguing. And it had not been the Clanchief that had killed Scord. The Si-Te-Cah had done that. When told he was in charge, Yuri did not argue.

He wanted to but Yuri liked living and as much as the other giants in the Hillgrowl angered, frustrated and annoyed him, Yuri liked his people. He wanted them to live.

“No one will complain once we find what you want,” Yuri said.

“It is here,” the other said, walking past Yuri and looking out into the forest. “Near.”

“Can you do no better?”

“No.”

Yuri grumbled, but did it quietly.

“Do not worry,” the Si-Te-Cah said, not turning around. “When we find it, this world will be ours.”

Yuri nodded, eager for that. The Hillgrowl, and Giants, were as much a part of the Connected System as any other Adapted race but they had never gotten the respect that any other races got. The Orcs got more. Giants were stupid compared to others, big lumbering brutes. Yuri knew this. He was one of the smarter giants. The biggest thing holding the giants back was their numbers. There just weren’t as many giants as there were of the smaller races.

In terms of pure power, the giants were the strongest. But even the strongest oak would fall to a hundred axes. Numbers could bring down the highest mountain.

Or pure power could and that was something the Si-Te-Cah had.

Yuri would do what he needed for the Hillgrowl to accomplish their goals. That goal was power. The power to be on equal footing with elves like the Silver Bark. The power to take their rightful place as the strongest in the Connection.

The Si-Te-Cah walked into the woods, smiling at the devastation Gorn had caused. Yuri watched the smaller man go, wanting nothing more but to crush him. Someday soon it would happen. Once this power was found and the Hillgrowl would seize it.

The Si-Te-Cah was powerful, but even the tallest oak would fall to a hundred axes.

***

The Trickster’s form shifted. They didn’t notice. They had long ago forgotten what their original form had been. Male? Female? Something else? The Trickster had forgotten what planet they had come from. There had been many candidates and sometimes they thought about tracking it down, seeing what had become of the world. They never did.

What was the point?

They had moved on. That world held nothing for them.

Every new world, they had a new form. The other Divine Beings tried to stay true to themselves, finding a way to keep common elements from form to form. Not the Trickster. That was not in their nature or their Concept.

It was hard to trick anyone if they had an idea what to expect.

They watched the conflict on Earth, the newest Connected World, and the one they were the most invested in. It had taken years to get to this point and it would be years, hundreds possibly, before the gambit was proven successful.

Or a failure.

But the Trickster could be patient, which was a surprise to many. The other Divine Beings thought the Trickster to be impatient, to not plan and be a being of pure chaos. That wasn’t true. It wasn’t false either.

Smiling, the Trickster assumed the form they were using on Earth. The plan would take decades to come to fruition, but as it was in the early stages, it still needed prodding to make sure the correct path was followed.

Loki snapped their fingers, disappearing and reappearing in Thor’s longhouse.

***

Senora looked at the portal, now nothing more than a glowing globe held off the ground. It was small, only a foot or so in diameter, but she could feel the power coming off it. She shook her head, wondering why the Dawnmother had allowed Kelly Brady to use the portal.

It had taken a lot of power. Power that Senora had been gathering for a long time. She’d used a crystal that had stored the power, letting Kelly think the Spirit came from just the portal. Senora didn’t bother to correct her. The woman would have been angry to learn where it truly came from.

She would find out eventually, but that was a problem for the future.

Senora was tempted to shut the portal down, leaving Kelly and the other two Valkyries trapped wherever they had gone. Kelly was with her husband and children. She would be happy. Senora was surprised that Kelly had promised to return. All the woman had wanted was to see her family and now she was, but she was willing to leave them to return to the column.

And for what? Leading three hundred weak refugees miles and miles, taking days and months to get to some goal that she had no idea where it was? To protect those people?

Senora didn’t understand the reasoning. She was only with the refugees because the Dawnmother told her she had to be there. The Dawnmother needed them and needed most of them alive. So Senora would get them where they needed to be and with most of them alive.

She hated it. They were weak. It would be so easy to kill them.

She wouldn’t because while they were weak, there were a lot of them. Quantity had its own quality. She had heard that enough times growing up in Clan Duskmoon.

It would be so easy to close the portal.

Connecting it to the other portal created by the Concept Of Death had been easy. Child’s play for someone of her experience, and with the help of a Divine Being. She had sensed other portals, connecting Earth to Death’s realm, where these new forms of undead were originating. They had been interesting creatures.

Easily dealt with, by her, not so much the few competent fighters in the refugees.

Senora let out a sigh of frustration. Sometimes the ways of the Dawnmother could be confusing and aggravating. She knew she had to be patient, but it was hard, especially with how annoying Kelly Brady was. Why couldn’t the woman just shut up and do as she was told?

Why did she care so much about these weaklings?

Senora turned away from the portal, her frustration rising. Now she had to deal with the one called Carla, who Kelly had left in charge of the refugees. In charge, everyone knew that Senora was in charge, but she had to pretend to let others help make decisions. They had no respect for her experience and power. If this had been anywhere but a newly Connected world, Senora would show them what power was and force them to show her the respect she deserved.

Instead she would listen to Carla complain about the lack of food and water.

So weak. They were all so weak.

Senora couldn’t wait until they got to their destination. Then things would change.