Gwyndolin was laying lazily on the couch in the apartment he had started renting immediately after acquiring a legal identity. Fortunately, John had known somebody who had been able to create a convincing civilian identity for Gwyndolin. Finding someone who was able to turn his stolen money into money that was safe to use had been more difficult, but John had developed many contacts over his long career.
Gwyndolin had already used up most of his money by now and needed to find a more sustainable income than robbing the criminals of Miami. However, that was a problem for later.
Now a young man by the name of Glen Smith was the owner of a new apartment. The person who had created Gwyndolin's civilian identity had wanted to name him Glen Godfrey, but John had put a stop to that due to some superstitious beliefs about superheroes and alliterative civilian names.
As the days had gone by and the criminals of Miami had shown no more escalation than gradually increasing the power of their weapons, John had grown nervous. He agreed that the Cartel and the Syndicate were making preparations to confront Gwyndolin and John was starting to grow impatient.
Gwyndolin, however, was not.
He had lived a very long time and was capable of waiting for many years if necessary. He doubted it would come to that, mortals lived for a short time and did not necessarily have years to dedicate toward scheming. In the meantime, Gwyndolin had used the information he had gathered from the phones he had stolen—thanks to the aid of John's technology expert—to attack several more criminal strongholds.
He had also made efforts to correct an issue that had been bothering him, as well as worked on adapting himself to these people's way of speaking with John's assistance.
Hopefully, I can witness the results of those efforts now, Gwyndolin mused as he watched the television broadcasting the news in his living room.
This time instead of the MiamiNews the television was showing a show called TruthTV which was hosted by an overweight mortal man.
"Good morning, good folks of Miami, I'm your host Adam Axel Anderson. Our top story is the dangerous law-breaking vigilante most people currently know as Slither," said the rotund mortal, his tone full of disdain and animosity.
"Why do I say currently? Because apparently, this person isn't content with slithering around our beautiful city and shooting people with arrows without due process. They also don't like the name you chose for them, either."
From there, the television started displaying a video of Gwyndolin fighting Cartel members at the port. This had happened the day before after Gwyndolin had learned the criminals had been illegally transporting mortals in shipping containers to work at their brothels.
Gwyndolin watched himself as he ignored gunfire and methodically dispatched criminals with his archery and serpents. Towards the end of the video, one of the Cartel members attacked him with an alien laser gun, but Gwyndolin had seen it coming and conjured an illusion. The laser passed harmlessly through his fake image and a moment later the weapon was destroyed by a beam of blue magic.
After the battle had come to a conclusion, the young male civilian who had been recording emerged from their hiding spot and approached to proclaim his support.
"Holy shit! That was fucking wild, lady. I've been working here for months and I didn't have the slightest clue the port was being used for human trafficking," said the civilian man with genuine gratitude.
The camera focused on Gwyndolin's placid expression as he turned to the mortal speaking to him. Gwyndolin had actually been quite appreciative of the mortal's gratitude, but unfortunately, that was not reflected in his unchanging expression.
"I just wanted to thank you, 'cause that's not something I want layin' on my conscience. So thanks, Slither. You're good for this city."
"You are welcome," said the Gwyndolin in the video. This had been the first time he had tried to speak the native dialect with someone other than John. "If you are recording my image, then I would like to make two proclamations. Firstly, it would be my preference to be referred to as Gwyndolin. Secondly, despite my appearance, I am male."
Gwyndolin was hopeful that the video recording would allow for this to be the last time he needed to clarify that he was male.
According to John, Gwyndolin had been a superhero for a short enough time that a simple announcement would be enough to change what most people called him.
When Gwyndolin had first proclaimed himself a superhero, he had not proclaimed a title for a number of reasons.
Before he had died, Gwyndolin had been poisoned and then captured by Sulyvahn before eventually being given to a cannibal to be slowly devoured. Sulyvahn had visited him frequently while he was too weak to fight back in order to ceaselessly mock Gwyndolin for his weakness and his failures.
Sulyvahn had taken sadistic pleasure in humiliating a god of the old royalty.
By the time Gwyndolin had died, he had been so demoralized that he did not feel worthy of any kind of grandiose title.
He still had not completely come to terms with what happened, but Gwyndolin was feeling better now than when he first arrived in this world. A world that was simply a much kinder world than the one he had come from, and he was trying to focus on what he had gained instead of what he had lost.
.
There had been many political difficulties in his old world that had made it prudent for Gwyndolin to primarily refer to himself using a sobriquet, so this was a welcome change.
Maybe later there would come a time when Gwyndolin would prefer to again be known as the Dark Sun or the Nameless Moon, but for now, he was quite happy to simply be called Gwyndolin.
The video ended a few moments after his proclamation, as Gwyndolin had already teleported away.
The police had drastically reduced their response times to crimes that involved him, so he had begun to leave battlefields more quickly in order to avoid confronting the authorities. John had told him that it was best for superheroes to simply avoid the police if they were hostile.
"There you have it folks, this individual who is supposedly male would like to be called Gwyndolin. I've got to say, only a state like Florida could produce a half-reptilian cross-dresser as a superhero," said Anderson sneeringly. A still picture of Gwyndolin with his bow drawn and his serpents upright and hissing was displayed next to him.
As far as Gwyndolin knew, this was the clearest video the media had acquired of him. It was definitely the first they had gotten of him speaking.
"Listen, folks. You all know I'm a rational man who deals with facts and laws over feelings, so I'm not going to address this person's lifestyle choices, but this video is a perfect example of what I've been telling you!" Anderson slammed his fist into his desk and was growing increasingly agitated. "Since when does Miami have alien laser weapons?"
Gwyndolin half listened as the mortal ranted about supervillain escalation and the failure of law enforcement to control superpowered vigilantes. He found himself agreeing with some of the mortal's concerns, but Gwyndolin largely considered him to be naive.
It was indeed true that his presence resulted in the criminals of the city escalating the weapons they used, but that was not a compelling argument to not confront them.
The idea that superheroes were at fault for the inability of their authorities to control them was even more nonsensical to Gwyndolin. The local government was not powerful enough to control his actions, therefore it was impossible for them to have any true power over him.
Eventually, Anderson finished his rant and the show prepared to move on to their next story.
"That's all on that, folks. Next, we've got a story about a Florida man who tried to fist fight Superman while covered in pictures of green rocks. The man stated that he had a prophetic dream about Superman being cripplingly afraid of the things. I'm telling you, folks, superheroes are making people crazy!"
Gwyndolin turned off the television, seeing that nothing of importance was being said.
After yesterday's attack, the criminals were keeping a low profile as they prepared to confront him and David was busy training with his grandfather. As a result, Gwyndolin had a free day to himself, and he had plans on how to make use of it.
John had helped Gwyndolin a lot recently, but the greatest assistance he had provided was when he gave Gwyndolin a book that included commonly known magical information.
It was extremely fortunate that information on what the magical mortals referred to as the Sphere of the Gods was commonly known. Apparently, this was due to the efforts of a demigod sorcerer-king of Atlantis named Ahri'ahn, who had made considerable efforts to spread the knowledge.
Gwyndolin had wondered why the gods had permitted such knowledge to be known amongst the mortals, but after learning more about the matter, he had formed his own theories.
The Sphere of the Gods was a metaphysical reality that could only be accessed by divine entities. It was a fount of magic that flowed into the rest of reality and the source of many of the gods' esoteric abilities.
Most of this world's gods resided in a portion of the Sphere called the Skyland, where the various pantheons claimed their own areas of influence. The areas of influence that belonged to the Greeks and Egyptians were metaphysically closest to this reality, which made their gods slightly more influential, but the other pantheons could not be ignored.
What interested Gwyndolin the most, however, was that each individual god was also known to have a portion of the Skylands that belonged exclusively to themselves.
Ahri'ahn was a bit vague in describing what benefits such a place could provide, but Gwyndolin was able to read between the lines. The gods of this world were significantly more powerful than the gods of his old world, so it stands to reason that the Sphere of the Gods was a potent source of divine might.
Since learning that the most powerful superheroes of this world were not gods, Gwyndolin had felt more than a little disheartened by his comparative weakness.
Gwyndolin was a divine being who had lived for eons and had studied the most potent sorceries of his world, yet his power utterly paled in comparison to Superman.
Certainly, the hero was known to be vulnerable to magic, but what did that matter when he could defeat Gwyndolin before he could cast a spell?
What kind of world did he find himself in that a normal mortal could be given a ring created by beings who lived amongst the stars and instantly gain the power to challenge a god? It was a bitter feeling for Gwyndolin to realize that the power he had earned over a long and difficult life could be so easily surpassed.
What was the point in calling oneself a god when you lived in a world where mortals could gain such immense power?
Thankfully, it seemed that the Sphere of the Gods offered resources to Gwyndolin that could never be accessed by mortal magic or technologies. In the same way he had used sorceries to compensate for his weakness as a child, he intended to use the Sphere of the Gods to grow stronger now.
The fact that there was a portion of the Skylands reserved exclusively for Gwyndolin also offered an opportunity for him to safely ascertain the intentions of the other lunar gods.
Gwyndolin strengthened the wards around his home in order to make certain he wouldn't be disturbed, then placed himself in a comfortable position for mediation in his living room. He slowed his breathing, closed his eyes, and his serpents grew still as they laid themselves over one another.
He had felt a connection to an unknown metaphysical realm from the first moment he had arrived in this world, but he had avoided it out of fear of the unknown.
Now that knowledge had banished ignorance, Gwyndolin was eager to explore the magical realm that seemed responsible for the power of this world's gods.