So, here we are. We've reached the end of No Man Can Win Every Battle. The next story, which is called But No Man Should Fall Without A Struggle, will start posting next week.

Thank you all for coming with me so far on this journey. We've had about 290k words of story so far, and there's more to come. I never imagined the world would grow to this size, and even less did I think anyone would have the patience for it. You all amaze me. I bless each and every one of you for what you do for me with your reviews and support.

Epilogue

Ross was sitting on the rickety stool he'd crafted and milking the goat. It was something he did twice a day, every day, but it never got easier because the goats hated him. They kicked him when he approached from behind, they bit him when he came from the front, and they ate his clothes while he slept—no matter what obstacles he placed in the door to his hut.

The fine silk pajamas he'd been wearing when he arrived here were long gone, and now his clothes were fashioned of hides he would have liked to say came from successful hunts but couldn't. The creatures that lived on this planet were not as docile as the deer he'd hunted on earth, and he had no rifle. The truth was he'd found the dead creature—which he'd named a green fang because of its color and teeth like a vampire's—and skinned it himself with much difficulty. He'd not eaten the meat though, as that had been faintly green, like its skin. No matter how hungry he was, how sick of the roots and berries that were all he had, he wasn't eating meat that looked rotten.

The goat let out an angry bleat and turned to bite his arm, but Ross dodged back and said, "Stop it! You're going to be uncomfortable if I don't do this, and I want milk!"

What he wouldn't give for coffee, or steak, or even water that he did not take from the stream which had to be boiled before drinking—he'd only made the mistake of drinking it fresh in the beginning.

The goat turned away, and a mosquito came to buzz around his face. He hated the mosquitoes even more than he hated the goats. At least the goats were useful in that they provided a means—a revolting and stinking means—to deflect the bugs from biting him, and milk. All the mosquitoes did was find the tiniest patches of skin where the filth had dried and flaked in the sun and bite him.

He batted at it and, for perhaps the millionth time, cursed the child that had brought him here. If he had the Asset in front of him now and a gun in his hands, he would pour bullets into him until the clip was empty. If he only had his stone knife, he would find a way to carve the flesh from his bones. If he only had a stick, he would drive it through the boy's eye and into his brain. If he had no weapon, he would use his bare hands to choke the life out of him until he was bloated and blue.

The goat bleated again, and then he heard a voice speaking.

'You are disgusting.'

Ross' hands dropped, and he jumped to his feet, spinning around to find the source of the words. He could not find a direction, though, because it seemed to come from all sides.

"Who's there?" he asked.

'My name is Ego. I have come to help you.'

"Why can't I see you?"

'Look up.'

Ross raised his face and looked into the sky. There was a flicker of white light above him, different from the cast of the early morning sun. It grew as it came towards him until it was blazing, and he had to shade his eyes.

"Am I crazy?" he asked. "Have I finally lost my mind because of this place?"

'No. You cannot see me because I have no form. I have come to you to be given form. Will you accept me?'

"You want me? What for?"

'I felt your draw, your hatred, and I have heard your words and complaints. I know there is someone that brought you here and abandoned you. I know you want revenge. I believe we can work together. I am offering you a gift. I can go to any person in the universe to ask, but I chose you. You want to punish the one you call Asset.'

Ross snorted. "I do. He destroyed me, stole everything I worked for, and left me here—him and those damn Stones."

'The Stones are not the ones that are damned,' the voice scolded. 'They are pure. I want them back.'

Ross' hand lowered, and he stared into the light that burned his eyes. "You own the Stones?"

'The Stones were once part of me. I created them with my fall, in a moment of desperation and agony, but now I want them back. They are mine.'

"The Asset has them now," he said.

"I know. They have allowed him to possess them—a betrayal of what they are. The child you want to kill, you and I can make him pay together."

A wide smile spread across Ross' face. "The Asset will die?"

'When I have stopped him taking them, changed his path, yes, he can die. Will you accept me, give me form, come with me through time and become something new?'

"Hell, if it gets me off this planet, I'll do anything, and if the boy dies, that's even better."

'Good. Prepare yourself.'

Ross had heard those words once before, remembered the pain that followed, and he stiffened. The white light blazed down on him, surrounding him, and then seeped through his open mouth and eyes, filling him with warmth.

When the shock of it had faded, he said, "So that's it? You're in me."

'I am,' the voice replied in his mind. 'And you're going to take a backseat for a while. You cannot command my power to take us away from here. Do not worry, though, you will have control again soon. I need your name and face, at least at first. Our name will be known by all one day.'

"Our name?" Ross asked. "And what is our name?"

The voice whispered a laugh into his mind. 'Now that we are one… we are Nemesis.'

So… It was Ross! How many of you guessed it was going to be him? He's vile, of course, and Gryn Fylds was the best place for him, but he's too rich a character to abandon there. There were clues of what is coming in Story V here—did you pick them up? If you've guessed what's coming, let me know.

Until next time…

Jadey xxx