After spying on the World Walker, Goddess Tippy asked her brother, “Hey, do you think you could…?”

Rion sighed, magic pulsing from a flick of his wrist. In mere heartbeats, a replica of Luka’s carousel appeared in the divine realm. It rotated slowly, two dire-wolves and two dire-emus bouncing up and down in alternating sync. Rion took one of the wolves, Tippy one of the emus.

They rode a few times around, both completely silent.

“Well, that was fun,” Tippy said, stepping off.

“Indeed it was,” Rion added.

They stared silently at the magical machine, watching it slowly, slowly rotate, and the colorful lights flicker…

Tippy coughed, then looked away. “I’m glad,” she flatly said, “this invention is less dangerous than those slides. My blessing’s already saved two children and one twenty-something-year-old orc from drowning!”

A chuckle escaped Rion’s throat. “At least he’s creating happiness. Those burgers he’s flipping look divine.”

Together, they peered through the fabric of the heavens down at Luka. The World Walker stood among a gaggle of orcish peers, smashing ground beef into a heated metal sheet. In the backdrop, the carousel spun screeching children in circles.

The kids came in two kinds: first, the kind who chose to wait in line for their turn, and second, the ones who didn’t care for waiting. There were only four mounts to ride but plenty of places to stand. Kids hung off the rotating floor or ran backward, staying in place physically but dodging wooden wolves and emus.

The godly siblings watched as one kid tripped over his own foot and rolled off the spinning contraption. Blood pooled on his scraped knee, and soon, the adults converged, setting ground rules for riding the carousel. The kids, of course, listened, but everyone knew few would actually follow said rules.

Goddess Tippy sighed, flexing her long, slender fingers. “There. The carousel is also blessed. No more kids falling off and hurting themselves.”

God Rion chuckled. “You’re such a good divine power.” She rolled her eyes. “But speaking of ‘the divine,’ do you mind?”

Sighing, Tippy reached through the metaphysical heavens with an ethereal hand, snatching two dressed and steaming smashburgers when Luka and the red-meat-hungry orcs weren’t looking. Luka would notice soon enough, but who’d ever think a god stole a mortal’s meal? And more importantly, who’d be able to prove it?

The godly siblings laughed at the prospect, snacking on the Earthen food.

In between bites, Rion asked, “Mind filling me in on your plan, now? The memory patch worked for the moment, but I’m not sure—”

Tippy glared, cutting him off. “There is no ‘plan.’ I’m trying to remain as hands-off as possible for as long as possible.”

Rion looked between the burgers and his sister. “You literally just stole food from him. Is that hands-off?”

“And I also took his dead consciousness and placed it into a new body in a different world.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. What are your plans for getting him to your temple?”

Tippy went silent for a moment. “I think one of our brothers noticed him. I can’t push him toward my help without signaling the oddities in his… acquisition. But! I don’t believe I need to.”

Before the two gods, Tippy recreated a moment in time from just a few hours ago. Luka stood with Franky and Eve, discussing the dire-wolf Leo. In essence, Luka wanted Leo to have the ability to size-change—something that would require a trip to the nearest city.

A city that had a temple dedicated to Goddess Tippy.

Rion smiled. “This is great news!” The god then paused. “Wait. Which brother noticed him?”

Tippy slurred the name. “Neb.”

He groaned. “Literally anyone other than him would have been better.”

***

“This is so much easier than making pizza,” Luka muttered to himself, the scent of sizzling meat wafting through the air. “Needs toppings, though.”

Ren’s eyes lit up. The little chef stood beside the grill, taking notes. “What kind of toppings?” he asked, pen ready.

Luka chuckled at the scene. A few dozen steps away, the world’s first merry-go-round spun the village’s kids like no tomorrow. And yet, here Ren stood, more interested in the Earthly smashburger than the marvel of amusement entertainment.

“Lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion, tons of sauces—”

“I don’t like onion,” Franky sneered.

“—onion rings, fried onion, onion bacon jam, caramelized onion, pickled onion.” Luka forced himself not to smile as Franky’s frown stretched. “Just about any onion condiment you can imagine goes on burgers.”

“Did you say bay-kon?” Ren asked. “What’s that?”

“Smoked pork belly.”

Ren wrote it down.

Near the carousel, Mayor Tram and Judge Ben stood together, watching over the playing kids with a burger in their hands. They spoke quietly to themselves, occasionally yelling at one of the kids for doing something dangerous… at least until Luka waved to them.

“Alright, kiddos!” Tram yelled, her voice carrying. “Go to Mr. Luka and get a smashburger!”

The aroma of beef broke the orcish children from their fun, each leaping from the carousel and rushing over. The others took a bit more goading from Tram and Ben to leave the ride. Eventually, the tables were full, and each kid devoured a burger.

“Needs more seasoning!” Ren declared, receiving nods of agreement from a few of the kids.

“No, it doesn’t.” Luka crossed his arms. “Salt is all a good burger needs. Anything else and you're broaching into uncharted territory.”

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Ren’s eyes sparked, and he quickly jotted everything down.

“Hey, Luka,” Franky whispered, pointing down the street. “There’s Eve.”

He turned, finding a cascade of straightened black hair. Eve walked backward toward the courthouse, talking to a half-dozen villagers. She gestured with her hands, explaining the carousel’s movements to them as they openly gawked at the village’s newest… thing.

If everyone hates it, I’ll just get rid of it or move it, Luka told himself. Spinning, strobing lights aren’t the best on the eyes.

“Might want to throw some more balls of meat on the griddle,” Ben said, stepping around a duo of kids looming over a line of marching ants. “Looks like Eve’s done her job.”

Eve’s job—tasked by Tram, was to tell the whole village to come over for an impromptu lunch party to celebrate the carousel’s creation. But Luka didn’t think that was the real reason. No, he suspected the lunch party was a front for all the villagers to meet him. What better way was there to meet people than at a neighborhood barbeque?

Regardless, Luka was planning for extra mouths anyway. He had too much ground meat, after all. He balled another ten portions, dropping and smashing them onto the griddle.

“Can I help?”

Ben and Luka both turned to Ren, the little orc standing on his tippy toes to see the food. The adults shared a glance, the local judge shrugging.

“You’ll need a step stool,” Luka said, flexing the strands of magic in his eyes. They crisscrossed and rushed across the yard, snagging loose pebbles and decent-sized rocks. In seconds, a cube of stone was created and placed before the griddle.

Ren stepped up, and Luka handed the kid the spatula. Ren instantly flipped a patty.

“See how it’s still gray?” Luka asked. “You want to flip it after it turns brown and develops a crust.”

Ren nodded vigorously, flipping the patty back over. “How do I know it’s ready?”

“You can peel up an edge and peek under.”

Ren did just that.

“Good job. Just, uh, don’t burn yourself—” Luka cut himself off, a groan echoing through his mind. Movement caught his eye—a small butterfly, Tippy’s butterfly, landed on the heated edge of the grill. It didn’t care about the heat and instead sat there, staring at him.

“It can’t be that hot,” Ren firmly said, touching the griddle. Nothing happened. No burned fingerprints, quick-forming blisters, or even a smidgen of pain. “See?” Ren held up his unharmed fingers.

Luka ignored the kid in favor of the butterfly. It took off; its job was apparently done. Hesitantly, Luka touched the grill. Ren was right—it wasn’t hot. And yet, the meat sizzled with wicked hot grease.

“Something wrong?” Ben asked.

“I think… I think Goddess Tippy just blessed the grill…” Luka connected the dots. “And I think she stole two burgers from earlier! I blamed Leo and Sebby!”

A few steps away, both wolves gave him an “I told you so” look.

Judge Ben coughed. “The Goddess didn’t steal your food. And even if she did, you can’t prove it. Trust me, I studied the courts my whole life.”

Luka blinked at that. “You can sue a god?”

“Sue? I was thinking ‘arrest.’ But yeah, you can do both here.”

”H-has anyone ever won?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

Distantly, Luka heard laughter. He gritted his teeth and said, “Now I know she stole my burgers.”

Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll give you the best advice I can in this situation: get over it—she’s a goddess.”

Luka gave him a flat stare.

“Um, Mr. World Walker?” a middle-aged orc asked, stepping around the boys watching the ants. “Might I inquire about what you’re cooking?”

“So formal, Quinn,” Ben warmly said, “ease up. Luka’s not going to bite.”

The middle-aged orc, Quinn, gravely nodded. “Might I still ask… Luka?”

“This,” Luka held up a burger, “is smashed meat with cheese on a mayo-slathered and toasted bun. It’s from my home world, Earth, and is called a ‘smashburger.’ Inventive, I know.”

The small crowd Eve had gathered was suddenly behind Quinn. “Meat?” one asked.

“Yeah, beef.”

“Ohh, I like beef,” another purred.

“Is it seasoned? I’ve eaten too many unseasoned ribblelit legs,” a third asked.

“You love my cooking, and you know it!” a fourth, Clay, the ribblelit vendor, declared.

“With salt—” Luka couldn’t finish the word before Ren interrupted.

“And only salt!” he screeched.

The crowd didn’t look impressed.

“The mayonnaise has gra’mak’lish’lem in it,” Franky helpfully added from the side.

Luka felt the need to defend his creations. He held a burger out to Quinn. “Try it, please.”

Quinn didn’t need to be asked twice. He sunk his teeth in, and instantly, his eyes lit up. He ripped off another bite, moaning at the succulent, juicy patty and creamy, tangy mayo.

The floodgates opened, and the rest of the crowd begged for one of their own.

“Can I have seconds?” asked Quinn, his hands empty except for crumbs.

Luka hesitated, glancing at his supply of meat. “I don’t think I’ll have enough for everyone to have seconds.”

Quinn looked around. “There’s only a few of us.”

Ben patted his friend on the back. “The whole village is coming down. Did you think young Eve was just getting you lot? What’d make you so special?”

Quinn frowned and turned back to Luka. “Beef, you say? Hern owes me a favor. I’ll get more meat, enough for all of us three—no four, times over!”

Luka blinked. “Oh. That’d, uh, be very kind of you.”

“Can I get extra cheese on my seconds?” Clay asked.

“And mine with extra mayonnaise?” another asked.

“Get it yourself!” A voice bellowed from the nearby tree line. “Quit mooching!”

“Me?” the other villager asked. “But—”

“No arguing,” the voice said, appearing among the leaves. A tall dryad stood, body made of wood grain and clothes made of mossy vines. “I will purchase the cheese. Money is no issue as long I get the opportunity to ride the ‘cara-sell.’”

Luka frowned at her. She’s willing to pay? “Sure—you can ride. Everyone can—"

“How much for a ride!?” Clay asked. “I’ll pay three copper coins!”

“Four!” the woman asking about the cheese said.

“Five!” Clay instantly said, as if bidding.

“Everyone, everyone!” Luka yelled over the growing volume. “You can ride as much as you want for free. I’m not charging for—”

“Hogwash!” someone new shouted. It seemed Eve brough another group of villagers. “What are you trying to pull? How can that—” he pointed at the carousel, “not be a scam if it’s free!?”

Clearing his throat, Luka said, “Because money isn’t the goal, only happiness. And If I started charging, none of the kids would get to ride.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ren quietly muttered. “I have money.”

Luka ignored him. “But I can understand the distrust—that’s why the Mayor wanted everyone to come by today to meet me. I’m from a different world, and I don’t know any customs or social norms here. Would it be normal to pay a stranger to ride something they randomly built in the middle of town? I don’t know, you tell me.”

The man grumbled something inaudible.

“Look,” Luka continued, “if you want to pay to ride, then fine. But I don’t want money. I need materials for my magic. Brick, planks of wood, large stones, whatever. That will get you a ride, no money.”

Ben caught his eye and nodded to the watching children. “Oh! And kids don’t have to pay anything.”

“What about the food?” the dryad asked. “Do you require payment for the food?”

Luka thought about that. “Well, no—but since we’re having a community barbeque for today, if you want to bring food as payment to ride the carousel, I’ll accept that as well.”

The village critics discussed among themselves.

A thought occurred to Luka. “If the material you want to trade for a ride is too heavy, just leave it, and I’ll come by to get it later. No one hurt themselves, please.”

All the orcs in the crowd scoffed, even Franky, Tram, and Ben.

“What do you need materials for?” someone asked.

“Well,” Luka glanced at the carousel, “for more things like that.”