"Teleport."

  I appeared in the garden next to the plaza in Grand Rapids. The smell of war was in the air.

  The streets were filled with Cloud soldiers. They were organized, drilling in formation, wearing the bamboo armor I had provided.

  I walked toward the center of the city where the Palace of the High Priest was and I climbed the gigantic steps, passing guards who bowed so low their masks scraped the stone.

  I pushed open the doors and stopped.

  The throne room was a cavern with a ceiling that was lost in shadows, but the back wall was dominated by a statue that froze my blood. It was a hundred feet tall—a beast with four heads, two wings, standing on stones that burned with fire. It looked like something from a nightmare I hadn't had yet.

  Lining the walls were paintings depicting men in colored masks executing people, burning cities, and generally having a great time.

  In the center of the room, a pit of fire roared, the heat hitting me in waves.

  I saw Qolius sitting on his throne at the far end.

  Before I announced myself, I stepped behind a massive stone pillar and activated [Root Sense], tuning it to the vibrations of the floor to catch the sound waves.

  Voices drifted over the roar of the fire.

  "...how much longer, High Priest?" a voice asked. It sounded angry. An acolyte. "We march under the banner of a heretic. A false god. He mocks the Voice."

  Qolius’s voice was smooth, like oil on water. "Patience, my son. We bow only as long as we must."

  "Why must we," the acolyte hissed. "He is just resistant. It will simply take more prayers."

  "He is immune," Qolius corrected. "But every immunity has a flaw. Every shield has a crack. I need time to dissect him. I need to study his soul and find the chant that shatters his mind."

  Qolius laughed softly. “When I find the key… we will feast on his soul.”

  The acolyte grunted. "I pray it is soon."

  He stormed off, his footsteps loud on the stone.

  I stood behind the pillar, a smile spreading across my face.

  "That’s what I get for sparing him," I whispered.

  "He's biding his time," Goros noted from the Gourd. "Waiting for you to slip. How delightful. A game of treachery."

  "I prefer it," I thought back. "If he was actually loyal, I'd be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now I know where the shoe is."

  I waited a moment, then stepped out from behind the pillar.

  "Lovely place, Qolius!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the statue. "Who’s your decorator? Satan?"

  Qolius jumped slightly, but his recovery was flawless. He stood up and bowed deeply, spreading his arms.

  "My Lord!" he exclaimed. "You honor us with your presence. The decor is... traditional. It reminds us of the fire that cleanses."

  "Very cozy," I said, walking up to the throne. "Are we ready?"

  "The Cloud is prepared," Qolius said. "We await your command to march on Black Hand."

  "Good."

  I turned and walked out. Qolius followed a step behind, the perfect image of a servile vassal.

  We reached the city gates.

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Bells.

  "Bring the rain," I said.

  Two hours later, it was pouring.

  The Eden Army arrived.

  I stood on the wall with Qolius.

  "Impressive," Qolius said smoothly. "Your forces are... robust."

  "They get the job done," I said. "But we have a logistics problem. Gaylord is hours away. We don't have enough trucks for everyone."

  "Do we walk?" I asked.

  Qolius chuckled.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  "Cloud does not walk to war, My Lord. We ride."

  He let out a piercing whistle.

  The fire pits scattered around the city and the camps flared up simultaneously. The flames solidified, twisted and hardened, taking shape.

  Thousands upon thousands of chariots made of fire manifested in the fields. They were drawn by horses made of smoke and ash.

  I watched as the cultists climbed onto them and didn't burn.

  "Fire Chariots," I said, genuinely impressed. "That is... handy."

  "A simple manifestation," Qolius said dismissively. "But effective."

  "I want them," I said. "For my army."

  Qolius paused. "My Lord?"

  "My men," I said. "They need rides too. Can you conjure enough for the First Division?"

  "Of course," Qolius said, bowing. "Whatever the Lord desires."

  He whistled again.

  Flames erupted around the Eden formation. My soldiers flinched, raising their bamboo shields, but the fire formed into chariots in front of them.

  "Get in," I ordered. "It's safe."

  Bells looked at the fire horse in front of him skeptically, but he climbed in.

  "We fly," Qolius said.

  A massive chariot, twice the size of the others and drawn by four winged pink fire beasts, descended from the sky and hovered in front of us.

  Qolius gestured for me to board.

  I hopped in while Qolius joined me, and his four masked minions took flight, beside us.

  "To Gaylord," I commanded.

  We took off.

  The view was spectacular.

  We soared over the ruined landscape of Michigan. Below us, a river of fire flowed down the highway. A million soldiers in burning chariots, scorching the asphalt as they moved north. The heat rising from the column distorted the air.

  "It’s beautiful, isn't it?" Qolius asked, standing next to me at the rail.

  "It's efficient," I said.

  We flew for three hours as the landscape changed from the flat plains of the south to the dense forests of the north.

  We reached a massive body of water. Houghton Lake.

  Qolius raised his hand.

  The column below slowed and stopped.

  "We rest here," Qolius announced.

  I frowned. "Why? It's barely noon. We have momentum and can hit Gaylord by nightfall."

  Now that I knew he was plotting against me, I was suspicious of everything. Was this an ambush? Was he stopping here to let Black Hand get into position?

  Qolius shook his head. "To march all the way to Gaylord in one day is foolish, My Lord. The Black Hand knows the terrain. If we arrive exhausted, at night, they will butcher us in the woods."

  He pointed at the map table in the center of the chariot.

  "We need reconnaissance," he said. "We need to probe their defenses and formulate a strategy. And we need rested soldiers."

  I looked at him. He sounded reasonable. Annoyingly reasonable.

  "He's right," Goros chimed in. "You treat war like a grocery run. 'Go here, get thing, come back.' That works for skirmishes. For a campaign? You need logistics and patience. Take notes."

  I sighed. "Fine. You're right. We camp."

  Qolius bowed. "Wise decision."

  He pointed to the forest surrounding the lake.

  "However," Qolius added, his voice lowering. "We must be vigilant. The Harvest Fleets roam these woods. They are scavengers. If they see an army this size, they will try to pick at us while we camp."

  I laughed.

  "Don't worry about the Fleets," I said, waving my hand. "I took care of them."

  Qolius turned towards me.

  "Took care of them?" he asked. "The Fleets are... elusive. They have no central base."

  "They had bases," I corrected. "Warehouses. Depots. Staging grounds. I destroyed them all. Every single one. Like cockroaches they will eventually be back but for now…"

  I looked him in the eye.

  "They won't be a problem, Qolius. I made sure of it."

  Qolius stared at me and I could see the gears turning behind the mask. He was recalculating.

  "I... see," Qolius said softly. "Most impressive."

  "Set up camp," I said.

  We landed and Cloud’s engineers went to work immediately. They used fire to clear the trees and hardened the ash into temporary shelters.

  I walked over to the Eden side.

  "Dominion."

  Bamboo stalks shot up, weaving into a fortress wall. Inside, barracks grew from the soil.

  I walked through the camp. My soldiers were settling in, looking wary of their fiery allies across the field.

  I found Bells sitting on a crate near the supply trucks. He was holding a bottle of beer with a handwritten label that said Steve's Brew.

  "You sure you should be drinking Wilds beer?" I asked. "That could be radiator fluid mixed with yeast."

  Bells shrugged, taking a swig. "If I go blind, I'll just eat a tomato. Perks of the job."

  He looked better. The time in Ann Arbor had done him good.

  "So," Bells said. "We're camping with the freaks."

  "For a week," I said.

  "A week?" Bells groaned. "Kaz, they chant in their sleep. It’s creepy."

  "It's necessary," I said. "We need to scout Black Hand. I want to know everything about them before we declare war."

  I pointed to the line separating our camps.

  "Keep your boys separated," I ordered. "Don't let them mingle. I don't want the division catching religion or whatever brain rot Qolius is spreading."

  "You got it," Bells said. "I'll set up a perimeter."

  "Good."

  I walked away, heading toward the edge of the camp.

  I needed space. I couldn't sleep in a tent next to a snoring soldier, and I certainly wasn't going to sleep in Qolius's fire camp.

  I found a quiet spot near the lake.

  "Grow."

  I wove a sphere of Heavenly Bamboo, suspended ten feet in the air by three thick stalks. It looked like a treehouse pod.

  I climbed up the vines and slipped inside.

  It was quiet as the thick walls muffled the sounds of the army.

  I sat down on the floor and closed my eyes.

  "When I wake," I thought as I drifted into cultivation. "The games will begin."