From the portal he returned as a new flesh. Where before there was weakness now was strength. Where before there was vulnerability and uncertainty in the soft peach hue of skin was left nothing resembling man. There was stone above the skin and acid beneath it; to break the one would be to reveal the much more painful other.

From the portal emerged a being in pursuit of the consumption of the fruit of man allowed for so long to ripen to begin the long-awaited harvest. Now emerged the Hand of God who would pluck them from the vine. It would not take long now.

But first he would need power, much more than he currently possessed, so he began a straight line toward where he had left Amanda. His feet did not strike the earth between emergence, fall, and flight. Grass blurred into trees and time fell away. To a being such as him it was no longer relevant how long this journey would take. Nor even how long he had been away.

And yet as his core something was empty. Something was missing that fundamentally shouldn’t be. Perhaps it was regret, but it was too late for those. It had been a conscious choice to unleash the sword, the true man, from its sheath in death. This wasn’t someone else who had emerged from the portal. “David,” “Henry,” “Scourge,” “The Hand of God.” It didn’t matter.

All these titles, all the resplendent waste of pomp and grander all described the same being, the same void. What he was lacking in life wasn’t memories of sunrises and sunsets and family and happiness. What he was missing was the capability to enact his will. In these times of decision there is only the choice between stagnation and ascendence, between more of the same and a shift that endangers everything but simultaneously holds the possibility of winning far more than ever conceived. David turned over his favorite phrase,

“When the time for words has passed, action is all that remains.”

He would take what was his and enact his will on this world, or he would die trying. As a god, he was immortal, this therefore left only the possibility of success.

Perhaps those capable of slaying even the immortal lived somewhere in the world, but what was immortality without pursuit and attainment of goals?

A waste.

He arrived at the hundreds-foot high black iron gates and flicked them open with two fingers. A gust threw all standing behind them to the winds and waiting walls. To all sides were buildings and alleys packed full of fresh wood and rotting cloth strung from makeshift beams put in place only recently, some collapsing under the mere impact of a few dozen bodies. It was disgusting, so David began floating to each in turn and throwing beam by beam over the walls. Bodies flew and were retrieved. Some turned to paste, but it was all wiped away with the cleansing of the alleys formerly unworthy of view from the streets. Eventually it grew tiresome to throw things manually aside, so David simply flew in a straight line to clear the remaining alleys of their unbelonging occupants. That which did not belong faded to less than dust upon contact with him.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Those who would try to stop him died before their words could leave parted lips. It quickly became apparent that these types were few in number.

Chen-Thai found him within two minutes, three-quarters of the structures gone. No words were spoken until David at last stopped and slowly wafted down to the center of a deserted courtyard.

“The work is finished.”

“Was it worth it?” Chen-Thai retorted, disgust evident on the tongue.

“Yes. It was invigorating.” David answered coldly.

Master Chen did not comment on what he thought of the work and its outcome, instead lowering his head and speaking softly,

“Then please, follow me. We have need of your… contracted services.”

“No. I will see Amanda first. Besides, that contract ended with my death. Anything further will cost you.”

Chen-Thai thought for a moment of falling to his knees in desperation, but it quickly became obvious this would have no effect.

“We’ll be waiting for you should you decide to join us after. There will be more than enough reward to go around should you come to our aid.” With words delivered from his post as an elder of a great sect, Chen-Thai accepted that the survival of the thing he worked for so long to protect depended on one that slaughtered the weak as a matter of aesthetics.

Unwilling thoughts hounded him in flight, “Could we offset the structures further back in the alleys to make them less visible? We could build them higher to compensate.”

Chen-Thai shook his head. This was a disturbing line of thought.

“Could we build them against the walls? Paint them black to match?”

He slapped himself. Was it worth the cost?

David cared for none of the implications of his actions. He merely went forthwith to Amanda’s hospital, though did not find her there. It seemed she was awake and away. How long had it been?

He turned to the first nurse he saw in the bamboo halls of the all together too beige building.

“Where is Amanda?”

“Who?” Her face was much too flat. It reminded David of a pig, but he just restrained himself from the butchery the face deserved in pursuit of a more important goal.

He found another nurse, this one having long auburn hair but the body of a cow.

Again he found a nurse. There was nothing remarkable, but she also knew nothing.

The fourth nurse finally knew of who he spoke. It was challenging even to listen to her shrill voice that made him want to gouge out his eardrums with needles. Unfortunately, killing her would be a waste of time— no, worse, she would scream in pain with that shrill irritating voice of a child somehow implanted as if magically in the body of a grown woman. He turned and did not thank her. She resumed her duties uneventfully, and in the next moment David was gone as quickly as the instant in which he came.