Finn's eyes snapped open, his heart racing like he'd just chugged a gallon of espresso. For a blissful moment, he thought maybe—just maybe—the whole "other humans" thing had been a weird dream. But nope, reality came crashing back faster than you could say "oh crap."
He groaned, rubbing his face. "Right. Humans. Because apparently being stuck in a parallel world with an army of super-powered nudists wasn't enough of a plot twist."
Gloria was there, of course, hovering nearby like a very attentive, very naked guardian angel. "Good morning, my lord," she chirped, way too chipper for Finn's liking. "Did you sleep well?"
Finn squinted at her. "Yeah, a little, I'm a little worried but I'm fine."
He sat up, his makeshift bed of leaves crinkling beneath him. The morning sun filtered through the gaps in his shelter, casting dappled shadows across the ground. It was beautiful, in a "I'm living in a nature documentary" kind of way. Finn took a moment to stretch, his joints popping in protest. He may have god-like (sorta) powers in this world, but apparently, that didn't extend to comfortable sleeping arrangements.
"Alright," Finn sighed, stretching out the kinks in his back. "Time to face the music. Or in this case, the potential hostile takeover. Gloria, round up the council, will you? We've got some serious strategizing to do."
Gloria nodded, her auburn hair bouncing with the movement. "Of course, my lord. Shall I bring them to your... um, throne room?"
Finn snorted. "Throne room? You mean this glorified lean-to? Yeah, sure. Tell them to prepare for the utmost luxury of sitting on dirt and twigs."
As Gloria scurried off to gather the council, Finn took a moment to collect his thoughts. He was out of his depth here, no question about it. Back in his old world, the biggest decision he had to make was whether to supersize his fast food order. Now he was responsible for an entire civilization. Talk about a career change.
He paced the small confines of his shelter, trying to psych himself up. "Okay, Finn, you've got this," he muttered to himself. "You're the lord of this place. You've created life with your mind. Dealing with a few thousand potential hostiles should be a piece of cake, right?" Even as he said it, he didn't believe it.
Soon enough, the council members filed into Finn's "throne room," arranging themselves in a semi-circle around him. Drew, Caden, Lyra, Isolde, and Eileen—his own personal think tank of superpowered nudists. It was like the world's weirdest corporate meeting.
Finn took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and tried to look as lordly as possible while standing in a glorified hut. "Alright, team," he began, trying to sound authoritative. "Let's hear the latest on our new neighbors. Drew, you're up."
Drew cleared his throat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the group before settling on Finn. There was a tension in his muscular frame that Finn hadn't noticed before. "My lord, I sent out another scouting party last night. The news is... concerning."
Finn's stomach did a little flip. "Hit me with it. How bad are we talking?"
"There are between 1,000 and 3,000 of them," Drew reported, his voice grim. "And they're... well, they're significantly more advanced than us."
Finn's eyebrows shot up. "More advanced? Like, what, guns?"
Drew shook his head, his short dark hair catching the morning light. "More than that, my lord. They have metal weapons, real furniture, tents... and clothes."
At the mention of clothes, Finn's brain short-circuited for a second. Actual, honest-to-god clothes? Part of him wanted to jump for joy at the prospect of no longer feeling like he was starring in a very bizarre nature documentary. But he pushed that thought aside. Focus, Finn. This is serious business.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to look like a leader deep in contemplation and not a teenager who was way out of his league. "I see. And what do we think their intentions are?"
The council members exchanged glances, clearly uncertain. It was Caden who spoke up first, his gentle brown eyes filled with concern. "It's hard to say, my lord. They could be peaceful settlers, or..."
"Or they could be looking to expand their territory," Lyra finished, her dark eyes flashing with determination. She leaned forward, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder. "We need to be prepared for either scenario."
Isolde, the record keeper, nodded in agreement. "We should gather more information before making any decisions," he suggested, pushing his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes. "Perhaps we could send more scouts, try to learn about their culture, their intentions."
Eileen spoke up next. "We should also consider the potential health implications," she said, her kind face creased with worry. "If they're more advanced, they might have diseases we're not prepared for."
It looks like they took their roles to heart.
Finn nodded, only half-listening. His mind was already made up. These newcomers had something they didn't—technology, resources, clothes. And Finn wanted it all. It wasn't just about the stuff, though. It was about survival. In this world, being behind technologically could mean the difference between life and death.
He wasn't that smart, but this one thing he was sure of.
"Alright," he said, cutting through the council's continued discussion. "Here's the deal. We're taking it. All of it."
The council members fell silent, but Finn noticed they didn't look particularly surprised.
"We need to expand," Finn continued, warming to his theme. He turned to Drew, the strategist. "Drew, I want you to come up with a plan. How many people do you need?"
Drew's eyes lit up with the challenge, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Give me 2,000, my lord. I'll have a strategy ready within days."
Finn nodded, then turned to Caden. "What about weapons? Can we arm at least 1,000 by the end of the month?"
Caden furrowed his brow, clearly doing some mental calculations. His softer features contrasted with his warrior's physique as he considered the question. "It's possible, my lord, but it'll be tight. We'd need to focus all our efforts on weapon production. No distractions."
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"Done," Finn said. "What do you need?"
As Caden rattled off a list of resources, Finn found himself zoning out again. This whole "leader" thing was harder than he'd thought. How did people do this all day? He was starting to develop a newfound respect for politicians and CEOs. Well, maybe not politicians.
Drew, noticing Finn's glazed expression, smoothly took over. "Lyra," he said, "we should expand our territory. Scout along this side of the river and beyond. My lord," he added, turning to Finn, "what areas do you think we should prioritize?"
Finn blinked, grateful for the inclusion. He hadn't realized how obvious his mental checkout had been. "Uh, yeah. Good idea. Let's focus on... defensible positions? High ground, that kind of thing." He was basically quoting every strategy game he'd ever played, but hey, it sounded good.
Isolde perked up, his lanky frame straightening. "My lord, shall Eileen and I assist Lyra in mapping the new territories? We could identify strategic points as well."
"Good thinking," Finn nodded, feeling a bit more in control. He turned to Eileen, who had been quietly observing. "Eileen, keep doing your research thing. We might need medical knowledge if this turns ugly."
With that, Finn dismissed the council. As they filed out, he couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and anxiety. These beings, these creations of his, were so capable, so dedicated. And yet, they looked to him for leadership. Him, Finn O'Sullivan, former burger flipper and professional underachiever.
He turned to Gloria, who had been silently observing the meeting. "Alright, time to make with the magic. We've got an army to build."
Closing his eyes, Finn concentrated, that now-familiar rush of power flowing through him. It was like a surge of electricity, starting in his core and radiating outward. When he opened them again, 5,000 new creations stood before him, ready for orders. The sight still took his breath away, even after all this time.
"Drew, take your 2,000," Finn said, gesturing to a group. "Caden, 1,500 for weapon production. Lyra, 1,000 for exploration. Isolde, 300 for mapping and record-keeping. Eileen, 200 for medical research. The rest of you," he addressed the remaining creations, "split yourselves between resource gathering and camp maintenance."
As the new creations dispersed to their assigned tasks, Finn slumped back into his makeshift throne, suddenly exhausted. Creating life as easy as lifting a finger, but the day had taken toll on him. Gloria hovered nearby, her presence oddly comforting.
"Well," Finn sighed, "that was... something. How do you think I did?"
Gloria tilted her head, considering. "You did well, my lord. Your decisiveness is admirable."
Finn snorted. "Yeah, because nothing says 'great leader' like deciding to steal from the first neighbors we meet." He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling the weight of his decisions. "I mean, what if they're peaceful? What if we're the bad guys here?"
He looked at Gloria, really looked at her for the first time. She was beautiful, of course—he'd made her that way, well, every woman. But there was something more, a spark of intelligence behind those eyes that made him wonder.
"Gloria," he said slowly, "how do you really feel about all this? About... me?"
Gloria's face lit up with a smile that would have melted butter. "My lord, I—"
"No," Finn cut her off, his voice rising slightly. "Not what you think I want to hear. How do you actually feel?"
Gloria's smile faltered for a moment, then returned, softer and more genuine. "I think you're doing the best you can in an impossible situation," she said quietly. "You're young, inexperienced, and suddenly responsible for thousands of lives. It's overwhelming, and yet you're rising to the challenge. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, my lord."
Finn blinked, taken aback by her honesty. "I... wow. Thanks, Gloria. That's... that actually helps."
He stood up, suddenly feeling restless. "Listen, I want you to always be like this, okay? Honest, somewhat normal. Consider that an order."
Gloria's smile widened. "Of course, my lord. I'll do my best to keep you grounded."
Finn nodded, then stepped out of his shelter. He needed some air, some time to process everything that was happening. He found himself wandering to the edge of the river, staring out at the rushing water.
The constant flow of the river reminded Finn of the relentless passage of time. It felt like he'd been in this world for ages, but in reality, it had only been a few days. He squatted down, picking up a smooth stone and turning it over in his hands.
"What would Dad do?" he murmured, his throat tightening at the thought of his parents. They'd always had all the answers, always knew how to handle any crisis. Now, faced with the biggest challenge of his life, Finn felt their absence more keenly than ever.
He skipped the stone across the water, watching it bounce four times before sinking beneath the surface. Four days. That's how long he'd been here, playing at being a leader. But now, with the threat of other humans looming, the game was over.
Finn stood up, brushing off his hands. He couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity or nostalgia.
"Time to grow up, Finn," he said to himself, his voice barely audible over the rush of the river. "No more playing around."
He turned back towards the camp, his mind already racing with plans and strategies. He'd need to talk to Drew again, maybe set up some kind of early warning system. And those weapons Caden was working on? They needed to be prioritized.
As Finn walked, he noticed the subtle changes in his surroundings. The makeshift shelters were becoming more sophisticated, the paths between them were more defined. His creations were learning, adapting, improving. Maybe he could do the same.
He was so lost in thought that he almost didn't hear the shouts at first. But then the words penetrated his reverie, sending a chill down his spine.
"BEAR! BEAR!"
Finn's heart dropped to his stomach. He spun around and sprinted back to camp, his bare feet pounding against the earth. The camp was in chaos, creations running in one direction.
The bear.
And then he heard it—a bone-chilling roar that made his blood run cold.
As he reached the center of the camp, Finn skidded to a halt, his eyes widening in horror. The bear was massive, easily twice the size of any bear he'd ever seen on TV. But it wasn't just its size that was terrifying—the beast was covered in weird, glowing markings that pulsed with an otherworldly light.
Finn watched, frozen in shock, as his creations swarmed the bear. They were armed with nothing but primitive stone knives, but they attacked with a ferociousness that was both impressive and disturbing. Three creations had already fallen, their faces... Finn quickly looked away, bile rising in his throat.
The bear roared again, swiping with paws the size of dinner plates. More creations fell, but still they pressed on, stabbing at the beast with their makeshift weapons. It was like watching a bizarre, horrific dance—the bear lashing out, the creations dodging and weaving, always pressing forward.
Finn couldn't tear his eyes away. He wanted to help, to do something, but what could he do against a monster like that? He was just one guy, and not a particularly strong or brave one at that. This wasn't like the strategy games he used to play, where he could just click a button and send in reinforcements. This was real, and bloody, and terrifying.
Gloria appeared at his side, her face set in a grim expression. "My lord, we should get you to safety," she said urgently, tugging at his arm.
But Finn shook his head. He couldn't run, not now. These were his people, his responsibility. He had to see this through, even if all he could do was stand and watch.
The battle raged on, a brutal, primal struggle for survival. More creations fell, but slowly, gradually, they began to wear the bear down. Its movements became sluggish, its roars weaker. And still, the creations pressed their attack, relentless in their determination.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the bear collapsed. The creations swarmed over it, their stone knives flashing in the sunlight as they delivered the final blows.
As the dust settled, Finn surveyed the carnage. Dead and injured creations littered the ground, their bodies twisted in unnatural positions. The bear lay still, its weird markings now dark and lifeless.
Finn felt numb. He'd known, intellectually, that this world was dangerous. But seeing it up close, seeing his creations torn apart... it was something else entirely. This wasn't just about clothes and metal weapons anymore. This was about survival in a world that seemed determined to kill them.
He turned to Gloria, his voice hoarse. "Get... Get Drew. We need to add these fucking beasts into the plan so everything goes smoothly."
As Gloria hurried off to fetch Drew, Finn stood there, staring at the scene before him. The dead bear, the broken bodies of his creations, the blood-soaked earth. This wasn't a game anymore.
This is real.