"It's actually kind of wild. Like, why am I even here?" said Ben. He'd insisted I stay and hang out, for at least a bit. Apparently after four years he was extremely starved for conversation with anyone from his home planet. "It makes sense for you. You're, like, an astronaut and you can build rockets and stuff. All the technology I know about was 10th to 14th century. What am I supposed to do, make them a water-wheel? They already have 'em! I don't know how to build an airplane or a refrigerator or make gunpowder.

"So you've spent those years basically playing what you thought was a game?" I asked, scooping another load of ice into Ben's drink. If his retinue was scandalized that he was taking ice from a goblin, they were circumspect enough to not protest, at least.

"I mean, I was pretty good at it. It's not like I was good at much back home. You were an astronaut, I was a college student."

"Well, I wasn't an astronaut yet. At least, not when you got here."

"I'm just glad I'm not the only one anymore."

I grinned. "Actually, you haven't been for a while. There's another goblin king down south who's actually a kid from Florida. Got here about the same time you did, if my math is right. Goes by the name Ringo."

"What? No way! Like that cartoon lizard movie?"

"I don't get that reference," I said.

"Yo, what's with this space dragon and people from Florida?"

I laughed. "No idea! You know, it's kind of funny, but I visited Cape Canaveral around that time. I actually got into a pretty bad accident on the way…"

I stopped, pit growing in my stomach. I'd gotten into an accident on my motorcycle when some idiot didn't stop at a red light and smashed into the car ahead of him, which pushed that car into the intersection, where I'd hit it full-on. I'd lost my legs in that crash. Spent years rehabilitating from it and learning to walk again and then pushing further to run and start flying again and applying to the corporate space programs. But it had set me back years filled with mind-numbing pain and physical therapy.

I'd woken up in the hospital. I never learned who the other people involved in the crash were. But there were fatalities…

"Bro, you look like you saw a ghost, what's up?"

System, Did you accidentally pull Ringo and Ben to Rava the day I crashed my motorcycle?

I didn't expect System to actually answer me, so I was surprised when it responded.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

<It was supposed to be you.>

I stood so fast two or three of the human soldiers drew their swords.

"I have to go," I said.

"Are you sure?" asked Ben. He sounded disappointed. "You gotta come back soon, my guy. I'm gonna go crazy if I have to go another few years without talking to someone from my millennium. Maybe bring that Ringo kid, I'd love to meet him."

"Maybe," I said. Armstrong had keyed in on my distress and was starting to position the goblins in case of an emergency. I signaled him down but stumbled out from under the shaded pavilion.

"Good luck with the moon," said Ben. "I'll keep my guys off your back while you get it fixed."

"I appreciate that," I said. I started to raise my hand for him to shake but stopped halfway. You ruined my life.

Or did I ruin his?

Was it his fault? How much of it was his drunk driving, and how much of it was System nudging physics? How much of it was the Midnighters warping System's influence so that it could pluck a champion from another world? Did some last-minute swerve on my part turn what was meant to be a fatal motorcycle crash into years of painful rehabilitation? Had my survival necessitated a second attempt that cost even more lives?

Ben saw the aborted gesture and smiled, glancing at his retinue. "Yeah, probably smarter not to. You know how these guys are with goblins. Take care, man. I'll see you around."

What conditions needed to be met for the stolen Midnighter magic to work? It was clear the person had to die for System to snatch their consciousness across the stars. And the idea that its first attempt lined up with a major motor vehicle accident, and then again on the day of my moon mission was simply too large a coincidence to ignore. The System had killed Ben and Ringo. It had killed Sanders and Davis. It had taken my legs. It had ruined my life. Had it been a conscious decision? Had it been compelled by the Midnight Queen? The queen who would launch a war just to keep a city from possibly interfering? What would the lives of four other-worlders weigh to her against her entire planet?

Where does the blame lie?

<I'm sorry, Chris.>

I left the pavilion. Ben's retinue tore it down and carted it all back to the city. A few dozen of my goblins were already cutting the boosters into pieces small enough to be carried by helicopters, after which we'd haul it back to Canaveral to be reused.

Dame Redfang watched with me from just outside the bivouac.

"We got the boosters," I said. "Your ransom is paid."

"Yes, it is," she acknowledged. "But it also seems that your words somehow moved the Prince. That there's to be no war, no further sorties for the knights, and that the Midnight queen is going to dismantle her war fleet and cart it through the streets of Habberport so that you may fly it south." Redfang shook her head. "Truly, these are strange times. And strange times make for strange bedfellows. I have volunteered to be a liaison to Tribe Apollo for the Prince."

My mind was still reeling from the revelation that my accident had not been an accident at all, such that I'm sure the surprise of Redfang's request barely registered on my face.

Who could say whether the actions of the Midnighters were justified? How much say did System have when it came to their magic? It wasn't even conscious, and maybe magic was some sort of outside influence hacking or reprogramming its dreams. It had bound itself by its own rules in order to slip its influence past the interference of the null devils on Raphina. It's possible that no party was fully to blame. Surely Ben had been driving his truck after too many drinks, System had caused collateral damage when it targeted me, and the Midnighters had desperately invoked a powerful force they didn't fully understand.

It didn't change what I had to do. There was naught but to press on. Raphina awaited, and the only obstacle that remained was a gulf of vacuum and a swarm of magic-devouring super-predators.

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