I finally break down camp for the day and head out onto the Turnpike. The bike makes this path so much more bearable. Having bypassed the tunnels due to fighting monsters deep into the forest, I quickly reach the main highway. A few cars zoom up and down Interstate 76. I decide to do something quite silly and head straight up the exit ramp.

The Mist really is a wonderful tool. Even as I bike up the shoulder of the highway towards the Ohio state line, no one can see me at all. I can at least dodge that part of the issue. Of course, cars sometimes pull over, meaning I can get hit at all times, but I cast illusions, not matter spells. Again, I need to read through the Egyptian spell-book. I continue biking at the highest gear, travelling as quickly as the bike will allow. For a thing I jerry-rigged together with butter and elbow grease, it's not half-bad. The cars don't pass me too quickly.

After a solid hour of biking, I take a break. By now, it's roughly noon, and very few cars are travelling Interstate 76. I pull out another Ribena from the Duat and take a nice drink. Perhaps I should have filled up something with some of the creek water, but I don't have a spare container. Thankfully, it's quite cool at this time of the year in Pennsylvania, so there's not the insane heat that would plague San Antonio or New Orleans in May. The wind blows cool, and I can bike more comfortably. Although, biking really isn't an ideal form of transportation on a highway. I estimate that it'll take a week before I can reach Pittsburgh, the next place I can try my crazy idea. I have to do something to make this go by faster, but I just don't know how.

I continue biking down the highway. Thankfully, the highway has reached a valley, allowing me to simply coast down the hill. It curves back up to a more forgiving hill than the ones I've seen before. The road, however, seems to not have been recently paved, and the freeze cycles haven't been kind to them either. The surface is jagged and several potholes have developed, especially near the shoulders. I dodge these obstacles as quickly as they come, but they still seriously slow me down.

Once I crossed the valley, I encounter more relatively flat terrain. The road is also much nicer here, allowing me to bike at high gear once more. There may be a small town in a few miles, but I don't think I'll arrive before sundown.

Another hour of biking later, I take another break. The Sun has begin setting already, and I can feel the air get cooler. Hopefully, Lord Apollo can speed that Aston up a bit more so the night won't be cold. I look into the distance.

There appears to be a large silver sedan coming down the road. The sedan is driving a bit too fast for even Interstate speeds. Its profile gets larger and larger until...no way. The car is on the wrong side of the road. It's on my side of the highway. There should be cops chasing after the guy and meeting in the middle, but there's no one. Then, it abruptly begins to slow down. That's when I see it. The car is a silver Toyota Avalon, and its left window has been smashed out. The driver looks comically large for even such a large car. Then, the car slows down to pull over on the shoulder, and stops just in front of me.

The driver steps out of the car and takes a good look at me with nonexistent, cloaked eyes. Something tells me this isn't human, so I look into the Duat. There, once again, is a shadowy haze, but this one is almost completely detached from it, like it's actually a shadow. Two hybrids in one day? I knew I must have caught up with the can.

"Oy, mate, what's a naw'ee lad like you doin' faffin' about on a mo'uh'way?" he says.

Unless Cockneys come from Pennsylvania, I know something isn't right.

"Who in the Duat are you?" I snap back.

Without even a snide word, the figure uncloaks. Again, a weird mix of features stand before me. The guy looks like a troll. Perhaps that's what he is, but something is off about this one. His hair is bright blond, as blond as a Dane, and his skin is just as fair. The guy is bulky and over seven feet tall, and his face is not quite human. He takes a good sniff of me. He's wearing an expensive Italian suit with black dress shoes. Overall, he seems like a normal guy, albeit a bit ugly and gigantic.

"I don't know what kind of demigod are you, but you smell quite exotic," he says. "I'll love to have something like you for lunch."

The monster speaks of cannibalism? A good look at his face reveals two normal human eyes. However, he still seems not quite human. His ears are pointed, and his nose is so... elvish. That's when it hits me.

"What elf managed to not get eaten by a Laestrygonian and create you, you mutt?" I wisecrack.

"Arthur Romanchuk, under better circumstance, you would be in the hall of Loki," he replies. "However, since you decided to ally yourself with the southern Pantheons, you'll have to do for lunch."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say.

I will my gloves into broadsword form for my left hand and a carving knife in my right. Straining to remember what runes look like and what they mean, I decide to carve the first one that comes to me. It comes out looking like a lowercase "p" with an extra bit sticking out. Suddenly, the blade begins to glow, and I feel something course through it. Then, the energy comes out as tendrils at the end of the blade.

"Nice elf magic, but I'm quite a bit more resistant to that," the giant replies. "It'll take more than the Rune of Thor to take me down."

Without another word, I charge at him. The monster, in all of its madness, doesn't even move. Before I'm in range, I stab the blade at him. The lightning casts out in bright blue tendrils and strike him in the chest. Sure enough, it does absolutely nothing.

"My turn!" he replies.

The giant charges hard at me with surprising swiftness for something with so much momentum. I sidestep to get out of the way, but he extends his giant right arm and swings into the air. Suddenly, his right hook grows to ten times its size and hits me square in the chest. I feel myself flying backwards and into the open sky.

Doing everything I can to slow down, I push my arms backwards. I do so another two or three times and feel a strong wind blowing. Defeated in my futile attempt, I punch straight down.

Suddenly, a massive updraft blows me way into the sky. In my panic, I punch upwards. A strong downdraft cancels out the punch before. Suddenly, I realize I'm not falling down or flying up. I'm floating. That can't mean what I think it means, right?

I trade out my carving knife for a Greek blade, and testing my theory, I picture lightning coming to my blade. The blade suddenly sparks to life, its hilt surrounded in a aura of lightning. I let loose a massive lightning bolt. Then, realizing I can control the air in much more subtle ways, I gracefully land in front of the monster wielding both blades. His eyes are wide with fear, and I now realize he has seen the whole display.

"No, it can't be," he begins. "That prophecy can't be happening, now can it? The one who can wield the thunder of two gods? The Duke of Ragnarok?"

Without asking any more question, I combine the two blades and will it into a more manageable shape. The blades takes the form of a single bronze, gold, and silver Norse broadsword with the Rune of Thor on one side and the Master Bolt, the symbol of Zeus, on the other. I slam the blade into the ground before me. A massive lightning bolt rips in front of the impact point towards the hybrid elf-giant. He seizes up when the electricity hits him. When the seizing stops, the monster doesn't fade. Half of the mass of the monster turns to gold dust, while what's left leaves the burned corpse of a much small creature, what I presume to be an elf. I look into the Duat and see a mortal soul where the shadow had been a moment before. It rises up before abruptly disappearing as though it was being reaped.

I had just killed my first mortal creature. The hybrid is not a monster, but partially human.

Not thinking about what implications that has in my afterlife, I swipe the keys (which is just the fob, as the car is keyless) off the ground where it fell out of the hybrid's pocket, open the trunk, dismantle the bike, and take the Toyota's driver seat (my dad taught me how to drive). I cast some magic to make myself look older, change the license plate, and create the illusion of a window, then follow the signs towards Pittsburgh in my new stolen ride.