"Are you sure?" Horus asked on his end of the line.

"Certain," Wepwawet replied, his godphone in hand. "We just called Nyame, and he confirmed he never attended the gym on that day. In fact, he was considering cancelling his membership because he doesn't have time for it anymore."

"What kind of creep impersonates his dad, turns into a spider, and then photobombs boys in the shower?" Artemis shuddered. "I'm sure he sneaked into the girls' locker room too!"

"I see…" Wepwawet could almost taste the quiet fury in his cousin's tone. "I don't want to escalate this into a war, but Anansi has to pay for what he did. Letting that kind of behavior go unpunished will only encourage him and others to mess with us."

"So you're in?" Wepwawet asked.

"Yes. Send me the beast's coordinates and I'll wake it up with an aerial bombardment."

"Thanks. The bastard won't know what hit him." Wepwawet ended the call and turned to Artemis. "He'll do it."

"Perfect!" Artemis grinned at the map of the Wyld they were examining. The topography showed the pirate town of Port Peril, built by changeling corsairs near the western sea. The stronghold of Shadazar faced two small islands that served as secondary bases for their navy, and gold mines in the south where werescale slaves were forced to toil in terrible conditions. "Now we have a way of directing Firestinger without risking our people's lives."

"You're sure he has no ranged attacks and that he cannot swim?" Wepwawet asked for confirmation. The first stage of the plan involved waking up a nasty and very short-tempered Kaiju, and then directing him straight at Port Peril.

"Don't worry, Firestinger is a landbound Kaiju and a goddamn scorpion. All he will do once they evacuate the town is curse and thrash around for a while, maybe throw a boulder at the fleeing ships, then return to hibernation."

"In that case, the pirates will logically take to the sea where our anti-ship commandos can bust them," Wepwawet said as he traced lines on the map. "All the while, our troops will storm the southern mines and free the slaves in the confusion."

"I hope those greedy bastards load their ships with gold on their way out," Artemis said. "That way, they'll sink quicker once we attack them."

"I love it when you talk like that," Wepwawet said. He missed the times when they could plan B&C battles together in friendly games against other members of their respective Pantheons. "On top of that, your swimmers can recover the gold later. Their own greed will kill them and make your civ richer."

"I love it when prey corners itself…" Artemis sighed. "Anyway, I'm spent. Is Ganesha coming or not?"

"I received a message saying he had to solve a family dispute." Poor Ganesha, being a peaceful god of wisdom meant everyone looked to him as a mediator. "Wanna watch a movie before we head back to Elphion?"

"Sure!" Artemis checked Ogma's streaming service and quickly found one with a cover showing a gunslinger with some kind of demon looming behind his back. "Oh, oh! I've heard good things about Gunsoul!"

"Isn't that a porn movie?" Wepwawet asked after seeing the erotica notice in the corner of the key art.

"Nah, I've heard it was mislabelled. It's pure action from start to finish. Apparently it covers events that happened in a very distant alternate universe that Ogma recorded somehow, or so I've heard."

That sounded good. It had been a while since Wepwawet could enjoy a movie night with a friend, let alone relax without dealing with emergencies on Elphion or with his dad's schemes. He welcomed a break.

The two of them slouched on the sofa and paused their thoughts for a bit. Wepwawet was pleasantly surprised by the movie. It was a weird mix of western and supernatural martial arts, but it flew at such a breakneck pace that time passed swiftly. In fact, Wepwawet was so fascinated that it took him until the halfway point to notice something.

Artemis was close.

She was very, very close, with her head resting on his shoulder.

It was… it was pleasant, but also weird. Wepwawet and Artemis were comfortable around each other, but Ganesha was almost always between them on movie nights… In fact, other than their lasergame session, Wepwawet didn't recall any moment when it had just been the two of them before.

He knew they were only pretending to date, but if their mortals were to see them now they might start wondering…

I'm just imagining things, Wepwawet told himself. If Artemis was thinking the same, she didn't show any hint of it. Her eyes were glued to the TV. We're just close and drama-free friends. Anything more would probably be messy, and we have enough issues as it is in our class…

Still, Wepwawet thought he could do more for Artemis after all the help she gave him. Maybe he could use Neigebleue Castle to produce a new monster and offer it as a gift? She did always love her critters.

Thankfully, Gunsoul provided ample inspiration. It turned out to be a very brief movie—if not slightly rushed—but full of strange creatures like corpse-possessing centipedes, spirit cars, and gun demons. The latter immediately gave Wepwawet a genius idea.

"T'was nice, but the romance was only so-so," Artemis said once the movie concluded. "I loved the final fight, though."

"Same, but the Fleshmarket gauntlet had me on the edge of my seat," Wepwawet replied before stretching. "I should go oversee my mortals and prepare them for the operation. We can't mess this one up."

"Yeah, I should go too…" Artemis smirked at him. "Let's throw that spider off his web and feed him his own shit."

"It's a date."

Lourson put the helmet on Slimon and admired his handiwork.

The werebear had been surprised when the slime asked him to craft him a knight's outfit adapted to his unique morphology—a double challenge considering his friend had no limbs and dissolved most matter on contact with his corrosive goo—but the result was… passable, in his humble opinion. He had settled on creating a slitted-visor helmet that covered most of Slimon's spherical body, except for his face, and with two swords for horns. The helmet didn't melt on contact either, which was a success in itself.

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"So?" Slimon asked the congregation of Crafters who came to witness his 'knighting.' His golem, Igor, stood behind him like a dutiful squire. "How do I look?"

"You look so cute," Alpine said with a giggle. "So dashing!"

"I-I don't want to look cute, I want to look fearsome!"

"Remind me again why you wanted to dress up like this?" Lourson asked Slimon.

"I was asking myself the same question," Wintresse replied. She had been the third of Lord Wepwawet's fallen Champions to rise from the dead, and true to her practical personality she immediately returned to work afterwards. "We are supposed to craft more rune-cannons for our allies in the Wyld, and our deadline is short enough as it is."

"You are quite happy about it," Bernard noted. "You do understand these weapons will be used against your former countrymen?"

"Yes, hence my enthusiasm." Wintresse smiled from ear to ear. "I must admit, I find the knowledge that death is a temporary inconvenience for us quite freeing."

To follow their god's order to fortify the city, Verglane's key Crafters had relocated most of their industrial activities to Orestown in order to better oversee the construction. The city's ample metal resources and working foundry—which had survived the conflict—also allowed them to turn it into their main artillery production center now that they had reverse-engineered Valentine's rune-cannons.

Ironically, designing the rune-cannons had proved less difficult than the projectiles. Their Crafters had to develop highly complex interlocking sets of runes on the cannonballs that, when interacting with those carved on the artillery itself, caused a reaction that generated the energy required for launch. One simply couldn't work without the other, and the projectiles' rune designs were more complex in comparison. Early tests even suggested that Valentine probably created elemental variants of their cannonballs by using the main basic version as a framework.

Bernard wasn't working with them on that project—instead alternating between dealing with his increasingly needy dragon master and developing a 'secret weapon' in Castle Neigebleue on Lord Wepwawet's behalf—but Slimon had invited him to visit today for a reason he had yet to reveal, while another member of their usual crew was missing.

"Where is our dear cook?" Wintresse inquired. "I haven't seen Kale since the battle."

"He went to visit his good andvari ambassador friend," Alpine said, stifling her laughter at the 'friend' part. "'To arrange a trade deal between our nations,' he said."

"Ah, I see. He is aiming for the honey discount," Wintresse replied with a smirk. "We used that tactic all the time in Shadazar to obtain concessions. It worked so well we rarely had to kill the target afterwards."

The mention of honey caused Lourson to growl, since he had been working all morning on Slimon's 'armor' and had yet to eat.

The slime hopped in place in rising rage. "See, even the hominids are getting in on the fun!"

"Wait, I understand what's going on!" Alpine joined her hands together with a big, wide smile. "You want to impress Princess Treasure!"

"H-how could you know of my secret?!"

"You've been ogling her whenever she makes a public appearance," Lourson pointed out. "Everyone's seen it."

"I-I wasn't ogling her, I was admiring her bountiful and generous chest!" Simon's surface reddened like an overripe tomato. "Anyway! I have longed to admit my feelings to her, but nature, as a trade-off for my immense non-euclidean intellect, did not see fit to give me muscles."

"But you are a slime," Bernard reminded him. "I do not think you can grow organs, let alone muscles."

"Exactly! My original solution to this problem was thus very simple: to transfer my superior intellect into a powerful athletic body. I thus originally planned to install a glass container and buttons into Igor's head so I could assume complete control. My choice, his body."

Lourson suppressed a shudder at the wording. "That is the worst thing you have ever said."

"I did not consent to this either," the golem agreed.

"But I decided against it when I realized it would make it a threeso–" Slimon stopped midsentence and stared at his golem. "What did you say, Igor?"

"That I did not consent to a violation of my bodily autonomy, sir," the golem replied with a deep, metallic voice.

The entire crafter group stared at the golem in shock.

"Since when can you talk?!" Slimon inquired.

"Uh, I have always talked back, boss. The issue is that you never listened."

While Slimon and the rest of the group remained puzzled, Bernard quickly came up with an explanation. "Lord Wepwawet said he had cast a new Miracle that would help us understand each other. This must be the result. We simply could not comprehend his method of communication until now."

"Interesting," Wintresse said with a curious look. "I wonder if it was the same with the weremammoth. We should check when Lord Wepwawet brings him back."

"W-wait, wait, so all those times you were answering my queries with your name, you were actually challenging me intellectually?" Slimon inquired. "You weren't trying to reinforce my genius by contrasting it with a lesser intellect?"

"No, I was supportive… To a point." Igor stared down at his employer. "However, I must object to your current plan. I think you are overcomplicating everything and that you should simply confess your feelings to her."

"And be summarily rejected?! Never!" Slimon indignantly hopped in place. "No, what I will do is rescue her first! That way, she will have no choice but to fall for me!"

"Rescue–" Bernard choked in outrage. "Don't tell me you want to take her away from His Glorious Majesty's hoard?!"

Wintresse exploded in laughter. "I would say it is suicide, but it ought to be entertaining to watch."

"It is suicide!" Alpine protested. "Insupportable will eat him alive!"

"Not if he's distracted!" Slimon turned to Bernard. "Please, you must help me as a fellow trailblazer of science! Simply keep that oaf of a dragon occupied for one hour, two tops!"

Bernard didn't seem convinced at all. "I must politely decline."

"But Kale told me you helped Victoire escape half a dozen times!"

"Yes, because she wanted to leave, but Princess Treasure seems perfectly happy where she is." Bernard crossed his arms, an uneasy look forming on his face. "That, and I can't betray His Glorious Majesty's trust after he insisted so much that Lord Wepwawet revive me…"

A shiver traveled down Lourson's spine while Slimon wasted his time trying to convince Bernard to change his tune. A strange malaise filled the air, so subtle he barely noticed, yet awful enough to send his fur crawling. Wintresse and Alpine's heads had perked up too.

"Did you sense that?" Lourson asked Wintresse. As the best spellcaster in the room, she had to sense this better than the others.

"Yes. There is an anomaly in the flow of mana, like when…" Wintresse's jaw clenched. "The sky opened."

Lourson exchanged a worried glance and the other Crafters, who had overheard her, then rushed right out of the foundry with the others in tow. They immediately looked at the heavens above to find them clear and cloudless.

There was not a single bolt of mana or rift to see.

"False alarm?" Lourson inquired, though he doubted it.

"No. No, it's happening again, I am sure of it…" Wintresse's scowl deepened. "Just not here."

The same calamity that struck Verglane once would soon befall another foreign land.

Goreville knew something was wrong the moment he teleported into the Wyld.

He had crossed the northern island Altar connecting Lord Wepwawet's lands to that of Lady Artemis' with a shipment of cannons, weapons, and other tools to help their allies repel the invaders despoiling their land when he noticed the streaks of crimson coursing through the azure sky above the jungle. His eyes had immediately looked up and followed their light to the distant northeast, far beyond the horizon and the endless sea that seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see.

"What is this?" Bigger-Than-Yours, one of the werewolf's werescale hosts, asked.

"Death," Goreville replied. In his case, it had been rather literal. "A foretold disaster."

Goreville and the turtle island Altar were too close to the coast to fully observe it, but the edge of a great gaping maw in the fabric of the universe became visible above the ocean.

Another Titan Incursion was about to strike Elphion.

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