"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes," Alm snarled for what felt like the hundredth time. He was a good pace ahead of the rest of the group, and though it seemed like every step on Rigelian soil only brought him closer to death, he felt as if he could match blades with Duma himself, and live to tell the tale.

He had heard Celica...just then, he had spoken to her, and it was real. The way Rose stared at him, concern pooling in the corners of her eyes...she just didn't understand…

They had emerged from the arid climate of the south, but the route towards the capital had only grown more trying. Cavernous mountains walled in the path on both sides, and even though they were clearly ascending, they had no way of knowing just how high they were. Perhaps the thin air was having an effect on Alm...no, it was real. It had to be...

"Celica spoke to me. She is in Rigel, and she's headed for Duma Tower. There's more…" he said quickly, for Rose was itching to share her reservations. "She said someone named 'Bismuth' is with her."

"What?" Rose said, her cheeks pinker than normal. "You're su-"

"Yes, I am absolutely sure, now please stop asking!"

Alm came to a stop, allowing Rose to catch up. He put a hand on her shoulder, which was warm even in the Wyrmstym cold, and rubbed it apologetically. Rose smiled, nodding in the direction of Rigel Keep. It had only been a few days time, and yet it felt like their journey together had been a lifetime. An unspoken pact, where one would always trust the other, had been forged between them, one that not even different upbringings, cultures, and folkways would break.

It was ironic, then, that Carocol, who was also human, was more difficult to convince. He'd rolled his eyes when Alm had explained what he saw, and was now taking his time much to Alm's chagrin.

"We should've left him to rot in the desert," Alm had muttered earlier in the day, earning a reproachful look from Rose.

"Alm, while I understand your desire to take down that loathsome man and his master," Rose began in the present, "I fear our combined man (and gem)-power simply isn't enough to do that. Perhaps we can seek another ship to take us across the ocean and seek a parley…"

"You won't find... any friendly ports around here," Alm panted as they reached a steep part in the road. The rocks had become so numerous, and yet so loose and brittle, every step felt as if the rockfall would fall apart at any moment. "This...this is pirate territory."

"And besides," he said, taking a moment to catch his breath. "I'm not dragging her into this. We'll defeat the prince, then we will venture across the ocean.

"The boy is right," Garnet muttered. Alm found it amazing how, once upon a time, Garnet had been the strangest of the three gems he'd met, and yet now he often forgot she was there. "I see the best outcome if we continue towards the Keep and conquer it."

Alm nodded, and though he would've gladly sold his prized horse to see Celica again, he did have a world to save. A horrible thought crossed his mind; Celica, screaming in anguish as the world around her crumbled to dust.

Certainly, Celica wasn't foolish enough to challenge the tower all by her lonesome…

The craggy walls flanking them slowly shrunk lower and lower, until the horizon was visible. Below the orange line of the sunset, however, a thick wall of fog shrouded the rest of Rigel from view. Alm avoided glancing into this abyss, for his sense of peril was already mounting. It would not be long before another hazard would greet them.

The main path was suddenly impeded by a massive boulder. A trail of freshly carved grooves indicated that it had been purposely placed there, and not too long ago.

"Berkut has been here," Alm said, banging his fist on the boulder impatiently. A gust of wind ascended from the foggy gulch, so that he had to steel himself from being pushed backwards.

"We must find another way around…" Rose suggested.

"There is no other way. The main route to the Keep is sure to be well patrolled."

It struck Alm how brilliant Berkut's thinking had been, tricking Alm into crossing the less protected border near Zofia Harbor. Even though he had escaped captivity, Berkut had ensured Alm would take the dangerous route, only to force him into the Rigelian mainland in the case where the harsh conditions did not do him in.

"We're literally stuck between a rock and a hard place…" Garnet muttered, and despite the overwhelming sensations of anxiety and peril, it was a relief for both Rose and Alm to laugh.

"Does your future vision tell us if we'll find a big shovel or not?"

"All it tells me is that we will reach the capital."

"Hmph," Carocol grunted, observing the abyss emotionlessly. Even from afar, Alm could see the Yasha's muscles pulsing like that of a monkey's, as if he were preparing to jump. "Seeing the future isn't very helpful if you don't know how to get there."

"Is tha-"

But before Alm could finish, Carocol had jumped down to a small ledge a good ten feet below him. He landed with the grace of a dove in a tree branch, his eyes already scanning the next landing pad.

"Coming?" he shouted up. "It's easy!"

For someone not wearing heavy armor, perhaps, Alm thought, but he couldn't stop Garnet and Rose from jumping down to the same ledge. There was the frightening sound of the ledge caving under their combined weight, but before the ledge could collapse they had already made their next move. Garnet summoning her gauntlet and punching a hole in the thick rock in order to suspend herself. The other two found solace on a slightly larger ledge, barely in Alm's line of sight.

Seeing no choice but to follow, he dug in and slowly began to climb down. By the time he was level with the ledge where Carocol had landed, his friends were out of sight, hidden beneath the natural veil. He could hear their hurried voices, Carocol barking out instructions (which was refreshing, perhaps, since he had spent most of the journey brooding), although they were starting to grow quieter.

Just as Alm imagined giving them a piece of his mind for leaving him behind, there was a bloodcurdling crunch. His senses were muted, so that the only sensation was cold air pounding his back. Far away, he thought could hear someone call his name

As suddenly as he had begun to fall, he stopped. Something, or rather someone, had grabbed his wrist. Alm opened his eyes to see Garnet, her face drenched with sweat, concentrating every muscle in her body on keeping Alm from falling. The instant Alm attempted to steady himself against the mountain wall, however, there was a second horrible crunch, and for a split second they were both falling.

It was Rose's turn to catch them, her expression likewise concentrated on keeping her friends suspended. Alm dared to look down, but the earth's surface was too deeply shrouded in fog.

"Can't...hold...on…" Rose muttered, her strength beginning to fail her. Already, the platform Rose was standing on was beginning to whine and crumble under her weight; it would not hold if she were to pull them up anyway.

"Just let go!"

"Caro...col?"

"Jump down! You'll be safe!"

"You're out of your mind!" Garnet yelled. "I knew I should've at least tried to destroy that boulder!" She spoke again, this time in a softer voice.

"We know that boulder was too large. It took an entire army to move it."

"Just jump!"

The voice seemed distant, yet so clear. Alm would certainly not have the liberty of catching himself like a Yasha well-versed in mountain climbing might. Nonetheless, if they were going to fall, they may as well do it now instead of waiting for the peril.

Alm was the first to let go, Garnet screaming his name in horror as she faded from view. He closed his eyes, waiting for a sickening, final crunch. It came sooner than he thought, although it was merely the crunch of iron boots meeting cold soil. He allowed his knees to absorb the shock before rebounding and landing on his back. Carocol was standing over him, a sense of superiority written in his face.

With both Alm and Carocol's encouragement, both Rose and Garnet joined them in due time.

"How did you know how far up we were?"

"I didn't. I, like you, jumped at nothing, and landed here."

"Yeah...what exactly is here?" Rose said as she landed beside them. The condensation was too thick to see anywhere in the distance, although the sound of gently lapping water indicated they were close to the ocean once again. Then, out of nowhere, the stench of death overcame Alm, so that his eyes watered and bile jumped into his throat. Carocol and Rose buried their noses in their garments, retching at the odor, while Garnet merely adjusted her glasses.

"What is that smell?" Garnet asked, as if she were asking for the price of a bushel of apples.

"Dead fish," Carocol answered in a muffled voice. "But why…"

As if in response, the fog lifted slightly in the north, revealing a small row of fishermen's cottages. These were a far cry from the postcard cottages of Zofia Harbor; the cottages in this town were dilapidated beyond potential salvage. Chunks of soggy plywood hung from their nails like the tongues of dogs on a sweltering day, thick condensation forming on the windows as the fog snaked its way through visible cracks in the windows, walls, and ceilings. The streets, pristine in ancient times perhaps, were no easier to traverse than the mountain trail, the cobblestones jutting out of the ground like jagged teeth.

As this scene presented itself, so did a new horror. Grotesque shapes, skulking up and down the streets, only breaking away from their straight paths to avoid the loose stone. Even this motion seemed lethargic and practiced, however, as if they had done it for centuries without rest. An eerie moaning noise seemed to grow louder as more and more figures appeared, until it resembled the buzzing of a bee in one's ear.

At one point, one of the shadows moved into Alm's visible spectrum, revealing a woman that could easily have popped out of a children's tale about witches. Upon meeting his gaze, the woman took on a ghastly shade of white and suddenly collapsed on her hands and knees, crawling pitifully towards them.

"Oh your excellence, you've returned!"

The old crone lunged at Alm's feet with her lips puckered. Garnet grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away as her lips met the toe of his boot.

"My kind and, er...fair maiden," Alm began, and the woman looked up at him with watery eyes. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. We are but simple mercenaries, passing through on our way to the capital."

"But alas, you possess your father's features, his expression...and just now, you have shown his selflessness. There is no need to humble yourself, my liege. Long has Goldstarch waited for your return…"

Both the woman and Garnet jumped back as Alm suddenly exclaimed loudly.

"Goldstarch!? You mean to tell me…"

"But of course, your excellence. The village you see over yonder is Goldstarch, once the Pearl of Rigel," she recited dramatically, expecting Alm's compatriots to react as well.

"Alm, um...what is she talking about?" Rose asked.

"Goldstarch is as she said, once the greatest port city in all of Rigel! Strategically located halfway between the capitals of Zofia and Rigel, many trade routes converged here. That was, until a massive landslide completely isolated it…"

Alm could remember hearing the story from Mycen when he was a lad. Mycen had called him in from tending to the cows, something he rarely did, and explained what had happened. An earthquake had occurred, the first recorded in nearly a millennia, that shocked even the stable mountains of Rigel, generating a landslide that would kill over 100 people before cutting the village off from the rest of society. Many had thought the village lost, destroyed, its residents doomed...and yet here it was before him, decrepit, depressing, and somehow still populated.

Gazing around, he could see tall, sharp rock formations in the mist, a grim reminder of that horrible day.

"We have waited many years for your arrival…" the woman repeated. "Many years to show you that we are still very much alive and well in Goldstarch. But you must be tired from your journey, come...there is an inn where you and your vanguard can stay, although it hasn't been open for some time."

The mist was slowly beginning to vacate the village, meandering out across the sea like herds of fluffy white cattle, the ocean the shepherd. Now that the mist was gone, however, Alm could see the favor it had done the former "Pearl of Rigel." Litter and clumps of animal feces lined the cracks of the streets, which seemed to be older than even Sir Mycen with their imperfect design. The sea itself was a sickly green color with pockets of healthy blue in between, although closer inspection revealed rows upon rows of dead and decaying fish.

"Are there...any other towns around here?" Carocol asked hopefully. The woman retched, in turn making Rose cover her mouth.

"As the prince said, this place doesn't exist. Only way out or in is by boat."

Garnet sneezed, or at least the others thought she had, but when Alm looked back later she was clutching her abdomen uncomfortably, trying not to heave.

"This place reeks," she muttered. Indeed, the village reeked of rotten fish, the elixir of death. The woman smiled, leaning in so that she was only an inch from Alm's face.

"They thought I was mad I tell you, waiting for you to return," the woman rasped, and Alm tightened his nostrils, for her foul breath was far worse than the odor in the air.

"Come and see, for the prince has returned!"

At her call, the grotesque shadows they had seen before emerged from the still-retreating mist. Alm instinctively reached for his blade, for their sickly movements suggested they were the revenants that had been attacking cattle in certain parts of Zofia. He felt a rush of pity, however, when the first shadow to emerge was a young boy. His skin was not smooth and clear like that of a healthy child, but crusty and covered in unknown grime.

These shadows were not of the walking dead, but they may as well have been. The men regarded Alm with sunken eyes, not so sunken to mask their disbelief. The women, though slightly cleaner than the men (and far more plentiful, Alm noticed), were garbed only in bedraggled potato sacks and shoes, so that their bony limbs and skeletal abdomens were plainly visible.

"Lord Duma shall forsake us no more," the woman shrieked, raising Alm's hand with surprising force. The onlookers said nothing, staring at the new arrivals with empty expressions. They had been isolated from hope for so long, Alm thought, that perhaps they weren't ready to believe it. He stepped forward, trying not to cough as the awful stench invaded his open mouth.

"Residents of Goldstarch, though we cannot stay here very long, we assure you that we will notify the world that you are still here and in desperate need of assistance."

When nobody spoke, he cleared his throat and continued.

"We, sadly, have very little to offer in terms of rations, and so we shall continue without taxing you any further…"

"Nonsense!"

The woman grabbed him, and again he was taken aback by her strength.

"There are dangers, both mortal and undead, waiting beyond these peaks. Please, let me show you your quarters."

Alm was about to insist that they had another leg of their journey to complete by nightfall, but the baggage of traveling in the desert and Rigelian mountains all day collapsed on him all at once.

He looked back at Rose and Garnet. Rose seemed rather reluctant, but a yawn from Garnet was enough to indicate her thoughts on the matter. Carocol shook his head, but followed as the woman led them away from the circle of raggy residents.

The moon rose a couple of hours later, though the village of Goldstarch was dark and featureless. The occasional shadow emerged from its residence, always staring in the direction of the two-floor shack where the Crystal Deliverance was set up for the night, before continuing into the night.

Alm sat brooding at the windowsill, studying the fetid coastline. He felt many things; sadness, despair, and anger directed at Duma. How was it fair to punish these people for where they lived, simply because they had lost their usefulness? Duma had removed their only source of meat, ruined their soil, and hidden them from society beneath a constant mist, simply because they couldn't provide for the empire anymore…

Rose, perhaps, could sense Alm's frustrations, for she gave him a wide berth. Carocol had insisted upon walking to the sea by his lonesome, and Garnet had disappeared (which was common), leaving her quite lonely. She glanced down at Pearl's gem, which she had clutched tightly since she had been destabilized in the battle with Gilgamesh, as if to will her into being.

This Pearl had not been her first; had it been up to Blue and Yellow Diamond, she would never have been given another Pearl again. She had quite the adolescence, a luxurious one that, had Garnet or Bismuth ever discovered it, would likely never see her the same way again. To them, and every other gem that had participated in the Rebellion, she was the leader of the greatest gem uprising ever recorded. In reality, she was everything she was fighting to destroy.

Only Pearl and herself knew that gemkind hadn't been her impetus to strike back against Homeworld. It had been Earth's organic life, and specifically humans, that had triggered the paradigm shift in her. Perhaps it was a sense of comfort that gravitated her towards them. Even with kings to lord over them and these so-called "Gods" controlling their fate, there was a remarkable sense of freedom in their lives. They could be whatever they wanted, farmers, knights, mercenaries...It was something greater than purpose; it was choice. It was fulfillment.

But now, having sworn her services to Alm and humanity as a whole, she had nearly cost her most prized ally her gem. Bismuth's whereabouts were still unknown, and even though she was still alive, the fact that Celica was in danger likely didn't bode well. Garnet, whose fierce loyalty to Rose and the cause was only second to Pearl, was clearly unhappy with where they were staying.

All she had ever wanted to do was help humanity and protect the Earth...why did her friends have to suffer for it?

Alm nearly fell out of the windowsill as Rose's fist, the one containing Pearl's gem, busted a hole in the wall.

"Reform!" she shouted at the pale gemstone in her hand, remorse flowing through her the instant she said it. It had been some time since she'd thrown a fit like this, but it also had been a long time since Pearl had stayed in her gemstone for more than a couple of seconds after being destabilized. Alm approached her with the same care a hunter would show a rabid animal, the reaction she expected from the first human being to ever witness her impatient side.

"Rose...is everything alright?"

Something wet and hot streamed down Rose's cheek, and she wiped it away just as Alm reached her.

"Pearl would usually be back now, I...guess I got a little impatient."

Unsure of what else to say, Alm simply put a hand on Rose's shoulder, and reassured her that once Berkut and Gilgamesh were defeated, it would all be over.

Rose smiled as convincingly as she could, until he finally returned to the windowsill. But it was far too late for her to be reassured. Even now, she could feel white-hot anger bubbling in her stomach again, so she set Pearl down so as not to risk any further damage. It was a frightening thing, to know one's own strength and have no control over it…

In the midst of Rose's tantrum and Alm's stewing, Carocol was walking the path beside the sea, finding comfort in the hissing of water on the sand, the spray of salt on his face, and perhaps even the smell of dead fish. He wondered how anyone could live on the continental mainland, away from these glorious sensations, where they could be free from oppressive snowfall and droughts that resulted from divine intervention.

He came across several residents they had met upon arrival in town, each more scrawny and destitute than the last. But Carocol felt no sympathy for their plight. It was their choice, after all, to live under Duma's guidance. Here they lived on the sea, which could provide them anything they wanted, and yet they still insisted upon a life with hardship.

But it was not a depressing sight, as it surely was to Alm. If anything, their ragged clothing and vacancies filled him with confidence. Pride in the place he had come from, and would someday return to.

The last thing he wanted to do was rub that in, especially around Alm, whose heart was surely aching right now. But he felt the singing praise of victory regardless, and his reward was a sense of familiarity and the sensations of the sea.

But as a massive wave crashed upon the road before him, creating a puddle that reflected his image in the full moon's light, he was reminded that he looked very different from when he first departed. How would he explain that to his father, whose dedication to the middle road was only rivaled by his son? Would he accuse him of accepting a deal from Mila, rather than accepting death?

"Enjoying yourself?"

Garnet's voice came to him from below the path, and in the soft glow of the moonlit water he saw her form, admiring the silver waves by her lonesome.

"In a sense," Carocol answered shortly, turning and preparing to head back into the village. He always had the feeling Garnet was reading his mind.

"Come watch the stars with me."

Carocol huffed.

"You already have someone to watch it with."

"Not really. Ruby and Sapphire can feel each other, but it's not like I can talk to myself or hold my own hand."

Garnet put a hand in the sand and scooped up a small hole, making an imprint where she wanted Carocol to sit. The alternative was looping through town and walking the same path along the beach, and he'd already had his fair share of these depressing villagers. It would be the lesser of two evils to sit with her, listening to the melancholic whispers of wind and water.

He relented, and vaulted a pile of jagged rocks that had once been part of a long decrepit retaining wall, taking a seat next to Garnet. She smiled, putting her arms behind her head and laying back. Carocol merely sat with his legs crossed, tracing lines in the sand with his finger. He expected Garnet to say something first, but she did not.

"I made a mistake," he said finally.

"How's that?"

"Had I known this was here, well...I would've chanced simply climbing around the rock and back onto the main path."

"What's so bad about this place?"

Carocol guffawed, spreading his arms as if it were obvious.

"Perhaps things don't smell in the world you're from, but this place literally smells like its rotten to the core."

"Don't see why that makes it a bad place," Garnet said, her voice smooth as the sand beneath their feet. "Took me a little bit to get used to, but now I kind of enjoy it."

"How did you come to that?"

"Rose. Even when the going gets tough...even when something seems unassailable, she always finds a way to keep the Crystal Gems and I going. Giving up isn't just a concept in combat; if I were to have given up on staying here when we first arrived, I wouldn't have been able to see the sky tonight. Thank you, future vision.

Garnet smiled and adjusted her goggles.

"I forgot...you can see the future," Carocol muttered, as a strong wave blanketed his legs with water. "What will happen to this place?"

"As I see it, one of three things…"

"Hold on," Carocol interrupted. "There can only be one possibility. How can you be sure of anything if you don't know which vision is right?"

Garnet chuckled.

"I've been asking myself the same question ever since I came here. On Homeworld, it's easy to predict the future because nothing ever changes. Sure, new technology is developed and new planets are added to the empire, but every gem has a set purpose. A list of instructions they need to follow for their entire existence, without question. Unlike humans, gems live for hundreds of millenia, so you can imagine how hard it would be to disrupt a gem's routine.

"But humans...humans aren't predictable at all. Alm could tell the world that this village still exists, and they could come and try to dig them out, or they could simply choose not to believe him. Or Alm forgets to tell anyone. I don't think he would outright choose not to tell anyone; doesn't seem the type. Then again, maybe he is."

Garnet chuckled again.

"That's the fun part about Earth. It's a big guessing game."

Carocol focused on the stars again, specifically the bright pink one Rose had pointed out all those days ago, the Homeworld as they'd called it.

"We're not all that spontaneous. Especially people here, in the mainland. Most of them bend to the will of the gods."

"Some more than others," Garnet said. "Tell me about your island, Carocol."

"We don't obey any god," Carocol said. "As far as I'm concerned, we're independent. We don't participate in their politics, and we lead happy lives as a result."

"So your people are okay if people on the mainland are affected by the gods, as long as you aren't?"

It was Carocol's turn to chuckle.

"Spoken like that Alm boy."

"I'm not criticising you or your people. Just curious."

Carocol wasn't sure how to answer. Sure, perhaps deep down he did feel a bit of remorse for the people in Rigel, who had been starving for several seasons. But then again, they had brought it upon themselves by pledging loyalty to Duma's way of life. Hardship for the sake of strengthening oneself. It was a farce of epic proportions, even if the Rigelian army was supposedly the strongest in the land.

"What would your people do if the gods disappeared?"

"It's not a question of what we would do," Carocol began, "but what the people of the mainland would do. Perhaps they would learn to live like us, which would be nice, but this is merely hypothetical...it would never happen."

Garnet murmured her disagreement, but said nothing more. The waves were gradually growing larger, and Carocol's legs were getting cold, so he moved further up to where Garnet was.

"Is that something you've foreseen?" Carocol asked finally.

"It's a possibility."

Carocol supposed anything could be a possibility if someone thought long and hard about it.

"The people of the mainland aren't in a position to make that happen," Carocol said. He was confident this was true. Mainland Valentia was the lovechild of the twin gods, that much had been true in the minds of the island residents for centuries. That wouldn't change overnight.

"We, the Yasha, have existed for centuries without a divine hand to push us along, and the result is a benevolent, diplomatic society with no strife or turmoil. Our destinies are our own."

Garnet sat up, so that her head was level with Carocol's. The careless smile had been replaced with a strange frown. That odd feeling that she was reading his mind overcame him again.

"I've held back from telling you certain things," she said, as an odd twinkle flashed out from beneath her goggles. "Things about your island, and what's happened there while you've been gone."

"You can see the past as well?" Carocol asked incredulously.

"Yes, but again, not a remarkable ability. It requires me to have made physical contact with someone, allowing me to know their secrets and the fates of those close to them."

"Can you show me?"

"I...it wouldn't be right," she said, getting to her feet. "We should get back to Rose and Alm. We need to make a plan for our attack on the capital."

Garnet bounded over the remains of the retaining wall, but before she could disappear behind it Carocol made the jump onto the main walkway as well.

"If you know something about my people, you have to tell me."

A thick cloud obscured the moon at that moment, so that only Garnet's shadow was visible. It inhaled and heaved, as if a heavy load had suddenly been put on its shoulders. Finally, she turned and approached Carocol, keeping her head down the whole way to avoid his gaze. She kissed his forehead, and before he knew it he was standing on the island of his youth.

He could even tell exactly where he was; the main square of the island's capital. It was night now, and though the seasons did not differentiate themselves like they did on the mainland, the air was slightly warmer than it would be in Wyrmstym.

"You have a lot of nerve, mongrel, showing up so late."

The relief that Carocol felt at being home immediately vanished, as Gilgamesh suddenly entered the scene. He seemed not to have noticed Carocol, instead focusing on a shadow emerging from the dark Council Hall. The shadow stepped into the light of the great torch hanging above the village square, and Carocol's heart skipped a beat as his father's face was illuminated in the orange light. Even in the glow of the flame, his features were pale and sickly looking; Carocol had only seen him in this state once. That had been when his mother had passed away.

"Father, be wary of this man!" Carocol tried to shout, but found that no sound came out of his moving mouth.

"It will be done, quickly, at your hand as you have requested."

His father's voice was typically flat and emotionless, but there was something sinister in his word choice that made Carocol's hair stand on end.

"Your compliance is appreciated. Perhaps I was wrong to call your people obstinate and godless."

"My beliefs are not shaken by my decision," Carocol's father said with a smirk. "I am merely doing this to keep your kind out of our affairs."

Carocol smiled with satisfaction at his father's snide response, but Gilgamesh barely flinched.

"I have a feeling, someday, you will rue those words mongrel. At any rate, once the boy is delivered to me, I shall keep my end of the bargain. I will ensure your island is spared of the genesis to come."

The scene disappeared in a wave of color, forming another scene. Carocol recognized his home on the side of the hill overlooking the ocean, but that was not what concerned him. A stench more foul than Goldstarch's invaded his nostrils. He coughed and spun around, looking for the source of the odor, regretting that decision immediately.

Bodies, all belonging to peers and adults he had known his entire life, littered the island, gutted beyond recognition as if they were worthless minnows.

"Fa...father…" Carocol mouthed, imagining the fear his voice would certainly have conveyed. He felt himself moving automatically towards his childhood house, as if something were leading him there. For the first time in his life, he was dreading the feeling of opening the door to his house, the place where, ironically, he had always felt the safest.

He reached for the doorknob, nausea mounting with every second.

The sight that greeted him made him sway on the spot. His midsection hurt as if someone had both punched him in the gut and stabbed him in the heart at the same time.

There, in a pool of his own blood, before the fireplace where they had once talked about death, was his father. Three blades, one in each arm and a third in his abdomen, were stained crimson with dried blood. A fresh torrent emerged each time his father drew breath (he was alive somehow!), a horrible sound that was a cross of shuddering and gagging.

"Even now, lying in a bath of your filthy, heathen blood, you cannot manage a single emotion."

Carocol spun around to see Gilgamesh, three empty, golden portals surrounding his head. They disappeared as he stepped forward, examining his latest victim with savage pride.

"C...Ca…"

"Your son is dead, as I requested and you agreed to. And now, I have held up my end of the bargain. You and your kind shall not live to become a part of the world Duma and I will create."

Gilgamesh threw his head back, unleashing that horrible laugh he'd heard in the cave that fateful day. Hate far greater, far hotter, far thicker than Carocol had ever felt bubbled up in his veins. He had never wanted anything more than to wrap his arms around Gilgamesh's throat, strangle him, tear his flesh apart as a gargoyle or any other demon might do. Every muscle hurt, as he tried to force himself to move, but could not.

"Such a pity. Willing to sacrifice anything just for the sake of protecting your shallow lifestyle, but in the end it has cost you everything. With your last breath, know that your people, your son, your way of life, is no more, you coward."

Carocol was forced to watch as Gilgamesh raised his heavy, gold boot, and drove it into his father's skull. There was an awful finality to the crack of his father's skull beneath the boot, as the last of his life force left his eyes, and his corpse slumped to the ground.

Gilgamesh's cold, vicious laughter continued to echo in his ears, even as he was finally sucked out of the vision, and returned to a new, horrible reality.