The release felt natural. Randidly breathed and the land breathed with him. His Nether Core seemed to still, observing this sudden connection.

The Fourth Authority came into being inside of the Nether Core, or rather a force that had seeped from Randidly’s pores for a long time finally revealed itself in its true form. That power yawned and stretched, settling into the immensity of its existence within his person. Rays of silver light erupted from his body. His control over the Nether flows that animated the storm stumbled and fell slack as a crackling sort of charge built around Randidly’s body.

The storm hissed and spat, the rain on the island slowing as the light around Randidly accumulated. His eyes widened, sensing the coming display. He frantically tried to comb through the manifestation for any danger but found nothing but light and wondrous life within that silver haze. So he begrudgingly gave himself over to the process. The power had come into his hand, but he needed to release it now that it had begun to churn.

This Authority had two speeds, stop and go. And now it was going.

Randidly pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. His Penance hummed in pleasure, briefly hosting some of that holy silver power. With a second Authority active, his Nether Core found a better balance. Randidly’s soul opened up and pale light galloped out of him. He withdrew the last thread of restraint.

The Fourth Authority: Animation Nova.

A quicksilver atomic bomb detonated on his person, releasing a near-blinding radiance. The nova spread out from him in waves. The first portion painted everything in monochrome, a light so bright that it steamrolled all other colors into shades of itself. That got the attention of the island's inhabitants, which meant they were warily watching when the second wave blasted outward and crashed against their bodies.

Most shivered and stiffened, assuming defensive postures before the wave, but none could react fast enough to avoid the second wave. This one seemed to teleport each individual life to a gleaming wonderland of yellows and silvers, floating alone in the rejuvenating power.

Then the third wave came, an infinite tide of silver motes that swam through the bodies of all these individuals.

Just like that, the Nova expanded to encompass the whole island and then receded all at once, leaving most of the affected individuals stunned. Some of the trainees looked down at their hands, shocked that all their wounds had healed and their bodies were filled with vigor. In a dark corner of the island, Charlotte Wick began to sob.

Once she started, she couldn’t stop. Tears seeped through her squeezed shut eyes and then through her frantically denying fingers. Yet she also felt relief; a portion of that horrifying tightness that had choked her for the last year began to relax. The waves had gently snipped the calcified and slightly cantankerous scabs of her emotional wounds away, leaving her pained but finally ready to heal.

Randidly coughed several times as the Authority receded to back in his chest. He felt dizzy and weak. He pressed his knuckles into the ground and focused on his breathing as he reviewed what had just happened. The Fourth Authority’s pulses could be used in isolation if he wished. It was interesting to note, however, that this cost him a great deal of life energy to supply it to other beings.

Yggdrasil stretched its branches and roots into the island to sip some of the energy back, but Randidly told it to stay its branch. He savored the bone-deep wariness as he rolled himself back and looked up at the suddenly clear sky above the island. Truth be told, I have plenty of life energy. And there’s no need to push myself so tirelessly. There are… more important things.

He was just settling down to reminiscence about Helen and allow his life energy to creep back the old-fashioned way, but he realized he wasn’t alone. The Patron of the Sun and the Patron of Blooms stood at the far side of the volcano, waiting for permission to approach. Groaning, Randidly pushed himself back up into a sitting position and beckoned them closer. “Yes? Is something wrong with that burst I released?”

“We just wanted to confirm it,” The Patron of the Sun took large strides to cross the distance to Randidly, but he stopped almost five meters away. His eyes were complex as he looked at him. “You know, in retrospect, it was quite strange that I seized upon the idea of becoming one of your Patrons so quickly. You were an unproven commodity, despite your accomplishments. Yet now-”

“I missed this silver light,” The Patron of Blooms sighed. She sucked a deep breath in through her nose. “This… yes… this is exactly the flavor of the Patron of the Deep.”

“The last of the Origin Beasts,” The Patron of the Sun’s expression hardened. “A race of beings that Elhume had sworn he had laid down his hatred. And yet, of course, the Patron of the Deep died to birth Humanity.”

*****

The ringing of silver bells lingered in Randy’s ears. On their back, they could smell pine needs and cinnamon. Their eyes were slightly glazed, staring forward without seeing anything in particular. The dominant sensation was buzzing, but a pleasant invigorating buzz, like their entire body was coming back to life due to that strange silver light-

“Randy.”

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Randy didn’t need to ask about the source of the silver light; just by feeling it, they knew it had come from the strangely kind cloud. The same one that had guided them for the past year and gave them Takeyhands as a best friend. And now, through their strange connection, tiny glittering silver vibrations settled down into Randy’s hair and skin. The vibration carried them away from the present, to a place of warm light and-

“Randy!”

-endless warmth. Randy kept their eyes closed and simply lost themselves in the sensation. There was nothing else that mattered but being so swept up in-

“Randy!” This time the voice was close enough to Randy’s face that they blinked back to wakefulness. Then horror warped their features as Bethyl looked down at Randy with an exasperated expression. “Focus, girl! You know how important that it is you don’t let your mind wander. Aw, hell, this whole batch is probably ruined…”

Randy began to tremble as their eyes drifted down to the leeks laid out on the work table, that they had been working upon. Now they looked mushy and grey, perhaps valuable to feed livestock but useful for little else. Their leaves looked unhealthy and the stalks pale. Randy began to tremble, the horror of what they had done washing over them. Tears formed in the corners of their eyes. Because they were distracted by the stupid feeling-

They could feel it all collapsing around them. They were in the back of the store, noise bouncing off the walls until it was deafening. Voices shouted for more and workers hurried back and forth. There was too much movement, too much chaos. Everything felt hot and claustrophobic. The voices stabbed through their eardrums and attacked their brain. Randy knew that the fragile peace they had found over the last year was all going to start crumbling-

“Shit,” Bethyl muttered to herself, then she came down to her knees next to Randy and wrapped her arms around them. “Easy there. I wasn’t mad, take a breath. I just…. Haaaah. I’m here, Randy. All this, all we have now… is because of you. It’s alright if you make a few mistakes from time to time. I’m not going to let you go. Not ever. We have our home together now, right?”

The words and the reassuring pressure of Bethyl’s hug gradually helped Randy control the hyperventilations. The walls stopped stretching and the noise resolved into the normal shouts of orders and the harried steps of serving staff in their diner. The duo crouched and stood awkwardly in the back of the food establishment, where Randy was preparing the next batch of ingredients to be cooked with dinner.

For eleven months, they had lived a dream, building their own restaurant and recruiting other strange loners like themselves. Even now, it felt difficult to believe.

When Randy had calmed down, Bethyl reached up and played with their hair. “I’ve still got to manage things here for a while, but why don’t you take a break through the lunch rush? When I finish, how about we give you a haircut? It’s been looking a little ragged recently.”

Randy shook their head emphatically, earning a laugh from Bethyl. Durro, the ogre chef, leaned over and peeked his massive left head into the back room. “Everything okay back there?”

“Course Darro,” Bethyl patted Randy on the head and stood. “No, don’t give me those bleeding-heart eyes, you can’t hug Randy. She’s all mine; you know she gets skittish around strangers who smell like fry oil.”

“And whose fault is it that I smell like this?” Darro muttered as he leaned away. A fresh sizzle from the griddle indicated he had laid out more food onto the hot surface. “I’ve worked here for six months? How am I a stranger?”

With Bethyl returning to work in the front of the diner, Randy fretfully looked at the mushy leeks. Some small amount of panic remained, but they suspected that their anxiety wasn’t always entirely genuine. Sometimes a panic attack rose, just to make sure that Bethyl would stay and calm them.

Setting aside that disquieting thought, Randy rolled all the mushy leeks into the trash. Then they walked out the back and walked up the familiar path to the hill above the previously desolate portion of the badlands that the refugee group and the three wagons had stopped.

Randy paused halfway up and looked back. Eleven months had completely transformed the area.

The largest and most presentable of the buildings was B’s Crossing, the sprawling diner that now anchored this position on the map for all the refugee groups on Expira. A large, squat, clean-looking exterior was surrounded by a sea of shanty buildings, mostly small stalls and houses where other refugees had taken Randy’s cue and started food stalls of their own. Most of the food they served was supplied by B’s Crossing, which meant it was massaged gently by Randy’s ability and given the highest chance of tasting delicious.

Which meant they currently made quite a bit of money by staying here. So much so that they had to hire a desperate frogperson accountant to keep track of their assets. But it hadn’t started out that way.

Eleven months ago, after the largest of the wagons left the area, Bethyl had been forced by a mob to give up her wagon. In a way, Randy had liked the development; suddenly they and Bethyl were crowded together and sleeping in small caves, trying to avoid attention from unsavory characters. However, Bethyl had been in a horrible, constricting mood. She snapped and raged in equal measure, showering Randy with attention, sure, but all of it poisonous and sour.

Randy worked up their nerve and told Bethyl about the special cloud and Takeyhands. Needless to say, the older woman had been more bemused than negative at the idea that weather and a small animal urged Randy to set up a food stand and use their ability to refine the food. But Bethyl had been motivated by the fact the monkey had brought cuts of meat and fresh vegetables.

At the very least, Bethyl had sighed as they erected a small tent, they wouldn’t have to starve. So she set up the kitchen area and allowed Randy to down whatever magic they needed to the supplies. On the first day, B’s Crossing opened below the hill and served not a single customer. Afterward, they distributed the unsold food to some of the surrounding refugees, who hadn’t been motivated or determined enough to follow when the wagons left.

They didn’t sell anything for the next week, but only because the squatters crowded around the stand during the day, scaring away all of the small groups of refugees that passed through. Those squatters wanted a source of free food all for themselves and liked the look of Bethyl and Randy’s new enterprise.

The situation was eventually broken open on the eighth day by a Lizakh warrior who wandered through. His nose led him to the stand, where he was stopped by some of the squatters and told that if he knew what was good for them, he would turn around. The Lizakh warrior had laughed in their faces.

When push came to shove, he shattered one man’s arm and cut off another’s ankle.

Desperate, Bethyl offered him a job as a guard. And strangely enough, Kirkrik Rrshk said yes.