It took me a while to find an abandoned building. A large section of the city is destitute, with abandoned homes and shops crumbling under their own weight. The section of the city was made of the scrapes of crashed ships—dirt and pieces not worthy of being called scraps.

I find myself at the top of an old tower connected to a house. Someone was ambitious in constructing this, but like the town around us, either they or their goals crumbled. I squeezed my hand under a window and unlocked it from the inside. I made a new "mouth" and vomited the kid out my face hole and into the room.

He screams on the floor, covered in bits of slime. I don't know why he screamed as long as he did, as I saved his life, and he doesn't need to worry about the ooze as any on him promptly slithered off and returned to my body. Plus, it took a long time to find a decent room that was both empty and in only lousy condition. This one has a bed that I wouldn't touch, but it looks ok, at least.

"It's all good, we made it out saftely." I say, stepping into the room and returning to my regular form.

"You ate me!" The kids shout.

"No, I held you as we ran."

"In your stomach... I think."

"Technically, I am 90% stomach. I didn't digest you either. That shows you can trust me."

"Because you didn't eat me?"

"Good, I'm glad you get it," I say, sitting down on the floor so I can be at his eye level. The boy stares at me with his eyes wide and face pale. To ease his nerves, I reach out to shake his hand.

"You can call me Cid."

He is zeroed in on my hand. He is shaking but refuses to move. I shake my hand closer to his face to let him know it is safe. He is shaking more. I stay there for a minute until he raises his hand and grabs mine. With how much it is shaking, he could turn my hand into a milkshake, but the grip is firm.

"My name is Emanuel," the boy says in a weak tone.

"Is that short for anything?"

"It's just Emanuel," he responds with confusion.

"Ahh, classic."

There was a moment of silence. I assumed it was Emanuel gathering the courage to speak to me. Throughout my travels, I learned that how I look and function makes people uneasy. So, I took the time to gather my strength and look out the window at the city. One was to admire the history of the buildings, making out bits of ship names from the piece, guessing what part was what on the ship. The other was to make sure we weren't followed.

"Is yours short for something? Cid, I mean." Emanuel asks in a whisper.

"Yup, it's short for something," I respond.

"Is it Cidius?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.

"It's short for Celestial Ieternal Deity."

"Oh, so C-E-D. Shouldn't it be pronounced K-ed"

"Where did the E come from?"It's C-I-D"

"It's for eternal. E-T-E-R-N-A-L"

"No, it's spelled I-E-N-T-E-R-N-A-L"

"There is no I. It starts with E, like 'everyone.'"

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This is the day I learned the proper spelling of the word. I can't turn back, no. I have been going by that for too long, and the sunk cost fallacy is real.

."I am a god, so I choose how it's spelled." The perfect rebuttal.

"What an ego." He chuckled to himself before looking back into my eyes. As the seconds went by, I watched the corners of his mouth lower as it dawned on him how serious it was. "You think you're a god."

"I know I am."

"If you're a god, why didn't you fight that masked guy instead of running?"

"Oh, he would have killed me."

"Then you are not a god. Gods can't die."

I stretch my head right close to his face. In a steady tone, I speak. "Gods can die."

"How do you know?" He says, avoiding my gaze.

"Because I can."

"If gods can die, I will eat 100 toad eyes."

"Deal." We chuckled, though I meant every word of that deal, and he thinks I'm kidding. "What don't we stop beating around the bush, and you tell what's your deal with that man."

"I don't have to tell you anything." He stares at the floor.

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be breathing and sitting in this must attic. Also, rats eating your pant leg."

A rat was eating on the side of Emanuel's pants as if it was a five-star meal. He kicked the rat away while screaming. The then turned to me and noticed a rat swimming in my ooze. "You have a rat in you!"

"And that was his mistake. Now tell me what's going on."

The kid was silent for a few seconds before breaking and telling me everything. Emanuel sat down in the chair by the window, the sun setting across the horizon. He took a breath and told me his story.

I learned the rock we are on is called Bronxven. No one knows where the name came from, but it populated people's heads, like a fleeting whisper, and people ran with it. It's the size of an average moon and is a rare case, as anything round is rare in the cosmic seas. Broxven isn't fully round but split.

Emanuel's family owned a butchery and bug hunting business called Flores Carnes. Apparently, on this rock, there are massive bugs ranging in size from the size of a ball to the size of cattle. Their meat tastes like either bovine or plumb fish. His family hunted these creatures down and sold their meat at a local shop.

It started as a small business, but after generations of building its name, the Flores became prominent. They had goals of expanding their business. Emanuel was the oldest kid and made it his mission to take over the hunting business. The mountain of texts and the before-sunrise hunting trips were what pumped his blood. His knife work was the best among his cousins, as he could break down a bug barrel (apparently a 3-foot round shelled beetle) in less than a minute. He figured out a way to crystalize the silver water found in rivers around the rock, for which these bugs go crazy.

To expand here to other floating colonies is difficult. The Cosmic Sea is a series of countries and kingdoms with their own terrain and ecosystems. The only way to traverse to these planets is on the Star Sails. They are floating ships that harness the cosmic rays in the sails to power the thrusters. The vehicles come in many sizes, from personal, affordable vehicles for travel to enormous ships for cargo delivery. Though his family had a small fleet for travel, Bronxven was not nearly enough to continue traveling to other colonies on other rocks.

Their goal was to expand so that their family never had to worry about money and to focus on their second business, the Resur restoration project. Their goal was to build more sustainable and affordable housing, fund restorations of existing buildings and apartments so no one is living in horrible conditions, and create reliable public transit so no one needs a car to easily traverse the city. This is with the intent that most of the bill be on the foundation, not the people. Smart, as there is no point in helping people if it costs them their blood and cash. These were good people.

They contacted Ghem Industry to set up a distribution chain. They were the second largest freighter on Bronxven. The Flores family signed a tentative deal with them, requiring them to take an enormous loan out where their business was collateral. That's what Ghem wanted. Crane owned Ghem, and the owners of Resur Main Bank were the same banks Ghem suggested they took the loan out of. This is how Crane controls the town. He controls all the distribution in the town and the banks. The town's economy is in his hands. If your business grows and falls, it is all up to them.

They increased the interest rates, making it impossible for them to keep up with paying back the loan, balancing their business, and expanding. Then, over only a few short months, they lost everything. Their business belonged to Ghem, both the meat shops and the trade. All were renamed, erasing their names from the public.

That wasn't enough. Fearing retribution, Crane took out a hit on the Floreses. In the middle of the night, hiding under his parent's bed, Emanuel saw his family murdered in front of his eyes. They caught him, but before they could finish the dead, Emanuel escaped. Battered, alone, but alive. After days on the street, with the same knife he carved bugs into, he charged at Van with every intention of either ending Van's life or escaping the suffering he has been stuck with.

The story weighs heavy on my soul. As my eyes trembled, I could only stare, but nothing came out. My soul wept for this child. After careful thought and letting him take his time, I spoke.

I drop the chipper tone when I speak. "Forget revenge."