The Anti-Venom Saga

It’s your pal Cal again, and today is Christmas Day.

Since our battles against Anti-Venom, Pumyz and Carnage, we’ve all been very busy.

Holding a press conference to address the events of that day and answer the public’s questions, working to find any remnants of Carnage, preparing for the Christmas party, teaching the Tennebites and the Mitlans about Christmas, and that’s just for starters.

Yeah, we did that for the Mitlans too. They deserve some cheer in their lives after what happened to their planet.

Oddly enough, the Klyntar tracking system shows that one piece of Carnage doesn’t seem to be on Earth anymore, and Sander and Alex are trying to figure out where it is.

My guess is Magicca. If one of Dehak’s pals helped him get to Cetteville and into the School, they probably brought a piece back with them. As an insurance policy.

But if that’s the case, finding that piece of Carnage will also help us find Dehak.

There’s another development that concerns me too.

Every branch of the Peacemakers across the globe vanished the day of the battle. At the time we were having that barbecue, based on when the reports came in. Pillars of light were erupting around the globe. No one affiliated with Pax has been seen since then, except Michelle, and we don’t know where any of them are.

This means that we don’t have a way to investigate the Peacemakers, but I know what Pax is doing: laying low. Waiting for the heat to die down.

And probably waiting for an opportunity to free Michelle.

She’s still awaiting trial in San Francisco, and she’s being monitored at all times, in case Pax tries to bust her out.

So yes, she’s spending Christmas in the slammer. I arranged for a present to be delivered to her cell:

A poster of Venom, to remind her why she’s there. What she threw her career as a lawyer away for, and what it got her in the end.

Venom and Toxin are sharing a saferoom at the School, and our humanoid Klyntar hosts are helping Venom train their grandspawn.

They got a good laugh out of the poster thing.

And Leo and his hippies have had their school bus repaired by Miles, but they asked to stay at the School until New Year’s, and I couldn’t say no.

Season of giving and all that.

Even once they eventually leave, we’ll see them again.

So yes, we still have enemies out there, and loose ends to be wrapped up, but we’ve made a lot of new friends too, and it looks like things are going to be peaceful for at least the rest of the month.

There is an understanding.

Dehak’s golem hasn’t darkened Jeff’s door again, which Jeff is glad about, because now he has two more people whose connection to him puts them in danger.

Charlie and Laurie, that is.

And work is continuing on the Dehak Busters. For humans and fluffies, like Electra suggested.

I think Charlie will like ‘em. We’ve been seeing him a lot lately.

See, Jeff and Laurie, uh… didn’t waste a lot of time getting to the bedroom. She made it crystal clear what her intentions were, and he knew she didn’t want to take things slow.

Both of them had a rather long dry spell, for different reasons. They have a lot to get out of their systems, and they didn’t have a lot of opportunities to do so before they met.

When I stopped by Jeff’s house two days after the battle and heard the sounds coming from his open bedroom window with my superhuman senses, I arranged a Sound-Blocker for Jeff, no questions asked.

He felt kinda guilty about that. He and Electra had encountered a couple at a motel in Minnesota who couldn’t keep it down, so he was feeling like a hypocrite.

I told him that I completely understood that he was eager to… make up for lost time… but still, the neighbors were complaining and they don’t have my hearing.

I also arranged a supply of free condoms for Jeff--

Because otherwise Laurie would be fucking him out of house and home.

I wasn’t gonna put it like that, Niv, but yeah.

Before you ask, dear readers: no, not with our logo on the wrapper.

I know we put our logo on a lot of different things, but we’ve gotta draw the line somewhere.

I just picked a bunch of different kinds because I don’t know Jeff’s preference, and I wasn’t going to ask, I’ll let him figure it out.

But, er, yeah, us parents in the ChaotiX have been taking turns keeping Charlie occupied (at least, when he’s not at school, and school’s out for the holidays) so Jeff and Laurie can have some space while they’re… busy. The kid has met most of the team by now, and our families.

Sorcie, Tiff, Luna, Branca, Harley, Jackie and Gyll’s kids are all a bit older than Charlie, but that just makes them the cool kids from a couple grades up to him. They told Charlie that anyone who messes with him on the playground will answer to them.

They’ll make a fine squad when they’re old enough. We’ve already started calling them the Monster Party Junior.

My own kids are all a bit younger than Charlie, except Future Quin, who is significantly older, but Charlie still likes them, especially when I explained what the bracelets Young Quin, Roxie and Ronnie wear are for.

He kept asking me to take the bracelets off so they could show him their powers, but I gently explained that they’re too young to use their powers properly, and the bracelets are staying on until they’re old enough for me to train them, and they fully understand the responsibility that comes with their powers.

Young Quin has started preschool, and I can’t very well have him burning the place down because he doesn’t want to take a nap. I mean, we can fix that, but it still won’t be a good look for the Korkea family.

Charlie likes comic books, so he kinda understands. You know, as well as a kid his age can.

And hey, I don’t mind showing off my powers for the kiddies.

I’m careful around normos, relax. I stick to the less destructive powers, though I did show Charlie some of my power-ups, and he watches a lot of training sessions and sparring rounds at the School, from the safety of the viewing room.

It's nice to have him cheering me on when I’m sparring with Konba.

And I always enjoy giving the public a look at what it’s like to be in the ChaotiX. I don’t want us to be all reclusive and secretive and nebulous, looking down at the little people from an ivory tower. I want people to know the names and faces of the heroes who save their lives whenever that’s possible, but, like with Venom, I’m willing to respect team members’ wishes if they want to keep their identity a secret.

Venom and Toxin are considering unmasking, though. They know we won’t let our loved ones get killed, and our humanoid Klyntar hosts’ real names are already public knowledge, so our fluffy hosts see that unmasking doesn’t have to end poorly.

People in San Francisco already miss Venom, but they know where their Lethal Protector has gone, that Venom hasn’t left San Fran unprotected, and that the possibility of Venom returning always exists.

I mean, if they wear a blipper collar under the black slime, they can go to San Francisco whenever they want, but for now, they know they’re needed in Cetteville.

But we seem to have gone off topic yet again.

So, erm, as for Electra, she usually goes to hang out with Bulma when Jeff and Laurie are having an... appointment.

Bulma has spent a lot of time at Jeff and Electra’s house whenever Konba and Valerie are having a date, so they don’t mind returning the favor.

Whether Jeff and Laurie’s Christmas fling evolves into a serious relationship like Akira and Venny, or it turns out to just be a casual hookup over the holidays like Konba and Jack, it’s too soon to say, but from what I’ve heard, so far, it’s going… vigorously well.

Jeff told me in confidence that he doesn’t understand why Laurie’s ex-husband threw the marriage away by cheating with his secretary, because the secretary couldn’t have been as good at it as Laurie is.

He said, and I quote, “She fucks like she just got out of prison.” Which she hasn’t, for the record. I, uh, had the Cabal run a background check just to be sure she’s not Dehak in a magical disguise or something.

Well, Laurie HAS been divorced for several months, she’s been too busy raising Charlie by herself to be dating, and a battery-operated boyfriend can only do so much for her, so it's understandable that she’s a LITTLE pent-up…

Battery-operated... boyfriend? I’m… not familiar with that term. Is that a coy reference to Prometheus and Alpha, Niv? Because Alpha is married to Beta, and Prometheus is seeing Minerva. Or did you mean Omega, or Gamma? All of them have the necessary upgrades, right?

Fi, I meant-- I meant a vibrator, okay? And, y’know, Jeff hasn’t been seeing anyone ever since he first came to town, he missed his chance to date Rosa’s sister, and then he spent months on the road with Electra, so yeah, no wonder his balls have gotten so big lately. They must look like Angus’ by now. So Jeff and Laurie BOTH needed a good hard bone sesh.

You’re being particularly crass today, Niv.

Whatever, I’m like five imaginary eggnogs in, and six REAL ones. God, I love that being an option now.

So what should we do with all of this imaginary fruitcake?

Burn it, and then ask Cal why he even bothered to imagine it.

Because it’s not Christmas without a fruitcake no one wants to eat, Niv.

With Kirk’s dark past out in the open, along with his new status as a Klyntar host, he’s been a major topic of discussion amongst the public.

Karla needed some time to process it, but she didn’t dump him, is willing to give him a chance despite everything, and he’s still welcome at her parents’ house.

Andre and Roland said that Kirk is still invited to the cookout. Kirk tried hard to make up for calling Rocky the N-word when he was Schatten.

Jack, who only needed like five minutes to find Cetteville’s best gay bar after moving here, said that everyone at said gay bar wants to buy Kirk a drink. They know he doesn’t swing that way, but again, Kirk has tried hard to make up for the way he treated Jack as Schatten too, and they want to show their appreciation.

And Xavier was very grateful for the Hanukkah present Kirk got him. For the third time, Kirk tries hard to make up for his past. Need I say more?

All of aforementioned team members have spoken in support of Kirk, and he’s been touched by them coming to his defense as I did.

We’re a big weird family, we look out for each other.

Kirk doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but I completely understand how he feels.

Both he and I have experienced the same ordeal, and we’re thankful that Pax didn’t do the same to our other team members.

(But that threat still hangs over our heads. I still don’t know what Jack was so nervous about. He’ll probably tell us when he’s ready.)

So yes, it’s clear to the public that Kirk genuinely regrets his past, and is sincere about atoning for it. He’s been doing whatever he can to prove it, and he has made it clear that anyone in the groups the Nazis hated can always count on him and his Klyntar to protect them from the forces of evil.

Because of that, most people understand that Kirk didn’t choose to go through experiences no father should ever inflict upon his own child, so he can’t be held responsible for his actions as Schatten. He is another victim of Hans, not an accomplice, same as Alpha, who walked a very similar path as Kirk did, and is now beloved by everyone in New Quezon City.

And compared to the whole Schatten situation, the revelation that Kirk has a Klyntar was relatively minor. Some people respect what he’s trying to do, reinventing his former identity as something better.

Well, there are a few people on the very far right who hate Kirk now, saying that Projekt Schatten was “based”--

Because apparently, being a brainwashed pawn of an omnicidally insane scientist is the fucking DREAM for those assholes.

--they’ve been saying that we’re the ones who brainwashed Kirk with liberal propaganda, and they’ve been accusing the ChaotiX of being puppets of their favorite scapegoats… drumroll… the Jews.

Who were you expecting, the Inuit? The Navajo? The Roma?

I mean, my great-grandparents were Jewish, but I’ve said I don’t really practice any religion. And how ironic that is considering the world I live in.

As for the politics of it, well, I’m a superhero, not a politician, and my primary political concern is equality for fluffies, but I see that as being no different from equality for black people, or gay people, or any other people, and I can hardly say that I oppose those causes.

Is it my fault that left-leaning areas are quicker to criminalize fluffy abuse? Is it my fault that movements to grant oppressed minorities equal rights gain traction faster in blue states?

And if you point that out to those idiots and ask them to connect the dots, they’ll react like when you ask them what the Confederacy wanted to use those states’ rights for: by dodging the question entirely, because they’re fully aware how bad answering honestly will make them look. It was about slavery and they fucking KNOW it!

Okay, Niv, getting too real now. Seriously, don’t start an argument about politics at Christmas, that’s a massive cliché.

But, er, I’ve always been open-minded, and never a big fan of bigotry.

One of the things I hated most about dating Gilda-- besides her cheating on me, of course-- was all those nights I wasted sitting through dinner with her parents.

Between you and me, dear readers, I was baked the whole time, every time, because that was the only way I could live through another evening of those vapid WASP-y snobs loudly and obnoxiously complaining about… well, everyone who isn’t a vapid WASP-y snob.

If I hadn’t dumped her, they’d probably be my in-laws by now, and I’d be putting up with that shit all the time.

Even though I was baked, I couldn’t bring myself to laugh at their awful, awful jokes. I’ll refrain from repeating any of them for your sake. I try not to think about those jokes. Not even Dave at his worst would laugh at them. Even the Tennebites at their worst would be like “Dude, not cool.”

I’d usually slip the Diggorys’ maid some cash on my way out. I don’t think they pay their employees enough. Gotta do something about that.

And those dumbasses have more dollars than brain cells, so they never even figured out that I was stoned every time they saw me, not until well after I dumped Gilda for cheating on me.

I was clever about it. Instead of sparking a spliff up, I’d just chew one or two of Dave’s gummy bears on the way to their place, so they couldn’t smell it on me. All they smelled was Irish Spring.

If Gilda asked me what I was chewing, I just said “Gummy bear.” She didn’t even suspect that it was a weed gummy, despite my love of cannabis being no secret.

She really took after her mom and dad back then.

Gilda, uh, tried asking her parents for money when Scott divorced her for the exact same reason I dumped her and her gravy train had been derailed again, but by that time, her parents had met Scott Jr. and Barney, and you can probably guess how that went.

Not very well, obviously. Turns out that Gilda’s parents weren’t really thrilled about having a mixed-race grandson (or the circumstances in which their grandchildren were conceived), and Gilda’s dad had an aunt who was disowned for marrying a black man, so that’s apparently a family tradition.

The Diggory family’s motto is “Don’t touch the chocolate, or say bye-bye to your inheritance.”

And of course, by the time I had prodded Scott to find out about Gilda’s PornHub account (and her OnlyFans) and subsequently divorce her ass, I had made my debut as a superhero over a year before then, so Gilda’s parents were already unhappy that she had blown her shot with me.

Yeah, their opinion on me changed real quick after the Demonic Invasion. Jeff said it best, it’s like I dumped Gilda right before I won the lottery. Well, I won the superpower lottery, at any rate.

(Still, it’s not like I just tripped and landed in a big pile of superpowers. I had to work my ass off to get this far. I can copy powers from other X-Positives, but I don’t copy the knowledge of how to use those powers. And I still have to use my head to find the best ways to combine them.)

As dense and oblivious as Gilda’s parents are, they quickly noticed all of the merch of the ChaotiX popping up after the Demonic Invasion, and they were seeing their daughter’s deadbeat stoner ex-boyfriend everywhere they looked.

They saw me on the news, on talk shows, on T-shirts, on lunchboxes, on action figures, on those popsicles with the fucked up gumball eyes, and occasionally flying over their big fancy house with both middle fingers up…

And they were, at the very least, smart enough to realize how lucrative my new career was going to be for me, and the opportunities that their daughter had missed out on by cheating on the deadbeat stoner who turned out to be the strongest guy on the planet.

When they smell money, their IQ skyrockets, if only temporarily.

So that’s another reason why Gilda was in the sorry state she was in when me, Marley and Piccolo saw her at the supermarket that one time. Around the time François revealed his survival.

And that’s another reason why I started going easy on her after she sunk that low: because at that point, if I kept trying to make her pay, I’d be siding with her racist parents.

I prefer to make peace with my enemies whenever possible.

For the record, Judy still doesn’t really like Gilda a whole lot, but Jude tries to be civil.

So yeah, I don’t mind if you’re black or white or Asian or Hispanic or gay or straight or trans or cis or vampiric or lycanthropic or extraterrestrial or magical or robotic or a dinosaur person or a fluffy or a whatever else, because what matters to me more is character, the choices made, the things that tie us all together no matter what shape or color we are, the desire to be better.

And, y’know, I veer closer to Chaotic than Lawful, so I’m all for freedom for everyone to be what they want to be, and throwing off the yoke of oppression, and the underprivileged having the opportunity to live better lives, and all that good stuff, and I’ve defeated several megalomaniacal tyrants to prove it. I am the Slayer of False Gods, after all.

The team is very diverse, both mundanely and fantastically. And it gets more diverse all the time.

So I’m not trying to downplay the struggles that minority groups go through with condescending empty platitudes like “All Lives Matter”.

I’m just saying that the ChaotiX won’t refuse to save someone’s life just because they’re a Fill-In-The-Blank.

And if they can fight the battles we have to fight, they’re always welcome to join the cause. Otherwise, we will fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

As a wise man once said: I would unite with anybody to do right and with nobody to do wrong.

Point is, those people on the internet talking shit about Kirk are racist idiots, and if they think that the ChaotiX wanting to treat everyone with the same level of respect makes us Jewish puppets, then they can go ahead and keep thinking that, because they aren’t being taken seriously anyway.

Shyeah, ‘cause WE don’t have a President who encourages those idiots, unlike the readers, those poor bastards. Sucks to be YOU guys for the next four years, huh?

Getting too real again, Niv, but you’re not wrong.

I’d be happy to let those idiots take it up with me in person, though. So would Kirk, and he’s said as much.

If I really want to find out who they are and where they live, I could do so, but that would only feed into the image of me they’ve built up in their heads.

So instead, when I see one of them posting their bigoted nonsense online, I usually reply with a friendly invitation for them to come to the School and talk it out face-to-face with me and Kirk, with the whole thing on camera so there’s no funny business. If need be, I’ll add a timestamped photo of the two of us outside the School to prove it’s really me.

Just like when I see someone on FluffChan talking shit about me to his abuser buddies. We monitor the abuse board because it’s one of the biggest hotspots of fluffy abuser activity on the internet, and I occasionally use proxies to spam the board with pro-hugbox and pro-ChaotiX posts, simply because it pisses them off beyond belief, and I find that hilarious. Yes, Jeff was right about that!

To be fair, Vanessa frequently posted there under the alias of Fluffy Abby (short for Abuser), as we learned when we searched her phone after her initial arrest aboard the Snowflake.

Yeah. The woman who ordered my friends and family’s deaths was one of their most popular members, though she never said anything as Fluffy Abby that definitely tied her to her true identity or her criminal activities. Just nasty comments about me and my family that were even nastier in hindsight.

Oh, did I mention that I’m usually in Luminary Form Level Two when I take those photos? No? Well, I am. Hey, I’m currently the only person who can do that, what better way is there for me to prove my identity?

And Kirk’s usually in Shadow mode, but with his face exposed, and his eyes glowing red, but sometimes Shadow is fully masked and giving the camera a big, toothy smile.

For some inexplicable reason, none of those idiots ever want to take us up on our generous offer, and then their posts mysteriously disappear a few seconds later.

Now ain’t that just quacking crazy? Golly, maybe the Jews forced them to delete their posts with Jewish sorcery! Wait, I take that back, that sounds like something they would actually say. Seriously, they can’t even stub a toe without blaming the Jews.

Well, they need someone to blame all of their problems on.

And for people like that, blaming themselves is never an option.

Once the new year starts… things are gonna change again.

Jeremy Logan will be sworn in as President of the United States, and he’ll have the ChaotiX backing him up as he works to outlaw fluffy abuse nationwide.

We’ll be happy to work with the Secret Service to ensure Jeremy’s safety. He has been targeted by assassins before.

And the Nose was dumb enough to take a shot when the PREVIOUS President was visiting Cetteville. Couldn’t have picked a worse day for it.

Michael Wilson served a full two terms, didn’t he?

I think so, yeah. I dunno what he’s gonna be doing after he hands the reins over to Jeremy. Pretty sure he was a senator before he became President, maybe he’ll go back to doing that.

And Cetteville will be holding new mayoral elections, now that Jeremy’s going to DC with Mr. Fusspot.

I think I’ll be spending a lot of time there too.

But the ChaotiX are citizens of the world, we’re superheroes without borders, and it’s not just America’s interests that concern us. We aren’t some government attack dogs that go wherever some uppity military type tells us to go and kill whoever he tells us to kill.

We work with the government, not for the government, and if we have to choose between doing what’s legal or what’s right, we will choose the latter.

Even if what is right is standing against the government, and we hope it never has to come to that.

There needs to be balance. Between law and chaos, light and darkness, one cannot survive without the other. That’s what the Light of Peace and the Devourer will never understand.

Maybe we’ll move the ChaotiX’s headquarters somewhere more… international. The Cabal have a lot of big plans for the coming year, but if the Earth is destroyed, those plans will never come to pass.

Because there are bigger problems than mere politics, there are threats out there that can’t be beaten with bills or vetoes or sanctions or embargoes or impeachments. There are beings of such power and magnitude that they care as little about the difference between liberals and conservatives as the average human cares about the difference between black ants and red ants. Such beings care nothing for any of our laws or rights, only their own whims.

And if the Devourer and/or the Light of Peace breaks into reality, it won’t matter whose ass is in that big chair in the Oval Office.

That’s what the ChaotiX’s job can be boiled down to: making sure that the Earth and the universe aren’t destroyed or conquered by some asshole supervillain, so everyone else can keep living their lives, and they can do their jobs.

Protecting fluffies from abusers is a big part of that, despite what some people would say about our adventures. If the ChaotiX and the Cabal weren’t around, fluffies would live short, pointless lives that end with brutal, pointless deaths at the hands of abusers, and fluffykind would never be able to grow as a species.

And their survival is our survival. If, for example, Fluffycide had succeeded in the mission their name implied, Marley would never be born, and how many of my battles have I won thanks to him?

I know he didn’t have a big role in this whole affair, but still, Marley is a fruit of the Trinity’s efforts too. Turns out, Doc arranged for me to adopt Mar and Pic. I can’t really complain, he gave me one of the best days of my life.

It was the anniversary of my parents meeting at college, the day I decided to fluff my shit up on a whim. Andre’s dad introduced ‘em.

But yeah, we’re here to help the helpless, defend the defenseless, to solve the problems that ordinary folks can’t solve on their own. Let them handle the ordinary problems.

We can’t do everything for them, we’re not gods, but we’ll do what we can. They have to stand on their own two feet, or their own four hooves, but if they need support, we’re here for them.

No matter how strong or weak someone is, they deserve a say. I don’t want to live in a world where the weak live in fear of the strong. That’s a world where only the biggest bullies thrive. That’s the world my enemies want.

People across the globe know that the ChaotiX are the ones best equipped to deal with the Light of Peace, now that the horrifying truth about Father Lucian Pax and the Peacemakers has all come to… light.

And the public doesn’t even know about the Devourer yet. We’re trying to figure out the best way to explain it. Without causing riots.

If we say anything about the Stones of Octavo, if we tell the universe that the legend is real, the race to collect the whole set will have a lot of new runners. Greedy fools, lured by the promise of infinite power, willing to betray their closest friends to claim all of that power for themselves. We’ve seen that before. Look at how quickly Hans and Vanessa’s “relationship” deteriorated once he got a taste of Octavo power.

We’ll just keep that part to “we’re working on a way to defeat the big eldritch fuckers but we can’t say anything more specific than that for security reasons” until all eight Stones are accounted for and securely in Patrol custody.

Never let the enemy know your next move. That’s something I need to remember going forward.

We’re past the Point of No Return. It’s too late for me to go back on my decision and join Pax’s side or Dehak’s side, even if I wanted to do that.

I’m on mortalkind’s side until the very end. The Light, the Devourer, they’re both enemies to all living things. Everyone in the ChaotiX knows that.

So our hunt for the Stones of Octavo will continue in secret, because those are our best shot at getting rid of those two eldritch fuckers. Even though we haven’t worked out the finer details yet. Like how exactly we’re gonna use them to kill those two, without killing ourselves in the process.

But we still have time to figure it out.

Five Stones have emerged so far. Four are in Patrol custody: the orange one, the blue one, the red one and the purple one. Another is unaccounted for since the Liberation of Drakonia: the one that was inside the Lamp of Desire.

Which leaves three more Stones to reveal themselves, and one to return from wherever it went after Calward destroyed that fucking Lamp.

Probably a green one, a yellow one, and an indigo one, and the one that was inside the Lamp is most likely octarine. All of the wishes it granted involved octarine in one way or another. The flame on the lamp, the smoke pouring out, the big fucking pillar of light that erased the Tower of Tyranny and restored Dragonheart Palace…

Maybe I’ll actually be able to see what color that Stone is when it inevitably pops up again. No one ever actually got a good look at it, the power source was missing after the Lamp exploded and took a balcony with it.

We’ve assumed that the power source is a Stone, because, well, if you’ve read that Saga, you’ve seen the wishes that Lamp was used to grant, and a lot of them were stuff that can’t be done with just magic. Like bringing back the dead.

Speaking of Stones, we still haven’t recovered the Philosopher’s Stone, or the bust of Perenna that hid it. It’s a given that Dehak didn’t care about the bust, the face on it, or the story behind it. He wouldn’t waste time trying to find the hidden button, he probably just smashed it to pieces to get to the contents.

Victor is pretty angry, especially about the bust being destroyed. Perenna meant a lot to him. Sure, he could carve another one, but it’s the callousness of the deed that pisses him off. It’s the principle of the thing.

That’s Dehak for you. He doesn’t care about things like sentimentality when there’s power to be stolen. The words “sentimental value” make his brain short-circuit, like Gilda before she got a clue.

With the Philosopher’s Stone and Eli’s ghost in his clutches, I dread to think what Dehak plans to do.

Well, he’s already functionally immortal as long as his phylactery is intact, but he might want redundancies… and now he has a way to fund his evil schemes without resorting to robbing banks, or scamming old people, or selling NFTs, or some OTHER easily noticeable villainous way. Look at how long Eli kept HIS whole racket going. If he hadn’t invited Vic to the Club, that racket would still be ongoing.

But as the tale of Eli Kzhar’s downfall can tell us, it is all too easy to LOSE the Philosopher’s Stone, and the wealth and immortality it offers. And once you’ve become too dependent on that thing, you’re NOTHING without it.

And Dehak really should have learned his lesson after what happened with the Lamp of Desire. He quickly got addicted to using it.

Shit, it just occurred to me, even if Dehak doesn’t need any Elixir of Life for himself, he could still give it to his minions. He’d have immortal soldiers at his beck and call.

Immortal soldiers who have to take their medicine daily to stay immortal. Throw Vic at ‘em, he’ll beat ‘em sooner or later. You know, like how he beat Eli.

Getting the Philosopher’s Stone back is one of our goals for the war against the Octovirate. It’ll cripple their operations to cut off their cash flow, and prevent them from creating an army of immortal soldiers.

And this is now probably a three-way war, all things considered.

Dehak hates me, Pax hates me, Pax and Dehak probably hate each other like Crips and Bloods, and I hate both of them.

It’s a hate-boner triangle, like demons, angels and vampires in older times. Though that one is more of a square if we’re counting draaks too.

We need to be ready for the day that light and darkness go to war, and mortalkind is caught in the middle.

Because that day is coming.

I don’t know when. Could be a day from now, a week, a month, a year, a decade or more.

But it is coming, and we can’t prevent it. All we can do is delay it for as long as possible, so that when it does finally happen, we’ll be fully prepared, and maybe we’ll stand a chance.

I know that the Light isn’t the only one who exists across timelines. Worlds have fallen to them and the Devourer. The One Man Army has seen it happen.

We can’t let either of them win, and we can’t let their war go on any longer.

That vicious cycle has gone on long enough, and this timeline is where it stops.

And they aren’t our only multiversal foes.

Even outside this conflict, there are loose ends.

But we’ll wrap them up, one by one.

Right now, I’m at Cetteville’s graveyard, visiting the graves of my parents, Quinton and Ellen, my Grandpa Mika and Step-Grandma Akka, and my Uncle Felix.

We had our usual Christmas party at the School last night, everyone was invited, but today, the ChaotiX spends time at home with our families.

And if criminals know what’s good for them, they delay their plans to commit any crimes or abuse any fluffies until January, so we aren’t extra pissed off about being dragged away from our families to work on Christmas Day, because we will make the perpetrators regret it.

That’s the understanding.

Isabella, Morte and Kelly Faucheuse are buried nearby. I paid my respects to them earlier. While I never met them, I know that they meant as much to Pierre and Deston as the Docs mean to me, and I’m pretty much a member of the Faucheuse family.

I see why Pierre named the Foundation after Isabella. She would have loved fluffies as much as he does.

And now I have zero regrets whatsoever about decapitating Demon Bertrand and Stahlkörper Vanessa. They started it, but I ended it, and I avenged what they did to the man I see as my second father.

Now that I think about it, I think I saw Des and Sorcie here one time, a couple of years before I got my powers.

They were hurt by Vanessa and Bertie too.

Thinking about the Trinity of Terra’s exploits recontextualizes everything about my own adventures.

Even the small things, like my childhood teddy bear, and my first meeting with Pierre at Flufftopia.

Pierre did so much to meet me there that day. The Trinity laid the groundwork for everything the ChaotiX and the Cabal do. We couldn’t be what we are without the sacrifices they made.

And I’m determined to make those sacrifices worth it. I’m not just Pierre’s protégé, I’m the Trinity’s protégé, the fruit of their efforts.

They know the pain of loss as well as I do. We all have loved ones buried here. Victor always saw a lot of his sister in Isabella, and he saw Morte the same way he sees me, as a nephew.

I had a hunch that Vic’s “hardass tough guy who would rather be anywhere except watching fluffies play at the park” image was just an act from the beginning. Pretty sure I caught him smiling at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Apparently, he faked that urgent phone call because he couldn’t keep the act up for much longer. Pierre was playing along, because he was trying to play it cool too, and found it just as hard. He almost couldn’t stop himself from hugging me when we met at Flufftopia.

Aw, Doc…

I came here with the family earlier. It’s sort of a tradition of mine to come here every Christmas, but after my talk with Chaos in this very graveyard, the Christmas after the World Revolution, I stopped spending all day here, and started bringing the family.

But this time, I had to stay behind for something. I told the family to go home without me, even Marley, I asked them to wait until I get back to the apartment, and I promised not to take too long.

I just needed some time to be here by myself. The family understands. They know what I know now, or at least the adults and fluffies do.

And my headmates are giving me a moment to think in peace and quiet.

When I was here with the family, I was in street clothes, but now I’m in my battle suit, with the red, yellow and green lines just being red and green. For the season.

Snow covers my beloved city, courtesy of Yours Truly and Mallow, and it covers the graves here like a big cold white blanket.

I look down at the snow-capped graves of my loved ones, a somber expression on my face.

I know the truth about what happened to them now. That the people truly responsible for putting my loved ones in these graves are still alive, and they’re now working with one of the biggest enemies the ChaotiX have ever had.

I don’t know their names, or their faces, but I know their crimes.

The kidnapper, the gunman and the poisoner were pawns, the mob were pawns, and even Vanessa was a pawn in the end. Maybe Umbra was a pawn too. Maybe he was just someone to keep a throne warm until Dehak showed up, like I once theorized.

I thought that I had gained closure about my childhood tragedies back during the World Revolution, when I decapitated the demon who killed my parents in life. I got the one who poisoned Mika too. Split both of those motherfuckers in half.

And after my talk with Chaos the following Christmas, I thought that I could finally put an end to my tradition of spending Christmas Day standing at these graves in solitude, so I could spend the day with the family I started, like the people in these graves would want me to do.

But now I see that I still have work to do. I still have avenging to do. I have an obligation to the people buried here, and that obligation remains unfulfilled in its entirety.

Because my childhood tragedies weren’t orchestrated for no reason. Whoever was helping Vanessa and Umbra, whoever is helping Dehak now, they wanted to get to me. Everything they did was to make me vulnerable, so they could capture me and feed me to the Devourer, just like every other servant of the Devourer I’ve faced.

Now I see what the Rider was being all ominous about before I crushed his skull in Nevada. They’ve always been watching me from the shadows, just as Pax has always been watching me from the light.

If it wasn’t for Chaos and the Trinity of Terra, the Devourer would have succeeded long before I even got my powers. But the stronger I become, the more alluring a meal I must become too.

So I don’t think those servants are done trying. What they started all the way back when my uncle was killed by those mobsters hasn’t ended yet.

For the record, I’ve driven organized crime out of town by now. Mostly during the year between the Demonic Invasion and Quin being born. I did it for Felix, and I took my time with the mobsters who killed him.

Once word broke about that, most criminal syndicates chose to end all operations in Cetteville and left the state. Only Vanessa and her Abuse Syndicate were dumb enough to still take a swing.

Vanessa was using those mobsters, just as her own friends used her. She wanted to hurt Pierre in any way possible after their divorce, and he cares deeply about me and my family, so that’s how she wound up meeting her friends on the dark side, Doc thinks. Their interests happened to align for a while, but they cut her loose once better options came along.

So I need to talk to Umbra later. I need to know who those friends are, who told him about the Devourer and helped him strike a deal with them.

Plus, I want to see if he likes the Christmas present I gave him this morning. This year, it’s an actual Christmas dinner, not one of those disgusting canned ones. I got some of that wine Umbra liked for him too.

I’m not expecting Umby to cooperate today. He has been particularly stubborn since the battle, and I saw the security camera footage of his chat with the Rider, so I’ve guessed why he’s suddenly feeling so spiteful.

The footage has audio, because of course it would fucking have audio, we’re not fucking stupid, so I know Umbra is just being stubborn to reassure Dehak that he hasn’t given in to my ongoing attempts to redeem him yet, it’s not just about making my life harder like he told Freddy.

But I’m not giving up on my plan to redeem Umbra. I want to prove that he can be redeemed, not only because he’s letting his potential go to waste, but also because I don’t want to still be dealing with him when I’m sixty.

I made a deal with him when we put that Mark of Justice on him. If he can prove that he’s capable of changing for the better, we’ll find a way to give him back that human form power he had as Dehak’s Royal Mage.

He hasn’t accepted yet, but he’s thinking about it. And that alone is progress.

So it’s time to leave this graveyard behind, at least for now.

My own family must be missing me.

I should be spending the day with them.

When the festivities are over, it’s right back to work for the ChaotiX.

Right back to the war that looms on the horizon.

I turn around, walking away from the graves of my guardians, my mood rather melancholic as I look up at the sky.

“Merry Christmas to all… and to all a good fight.”

At Jeff’s house, he, Laurie, Konba and Valerie sit on the couch in the living room, watching Electra, Bulma, Ms.-Pac-Man and Dig-Dug play with Charlie and chatting over hot chocolate, the blond little boy and the fluffies all eager to show off the presents they got to each other.

Jeff’s in street clothes, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that’s almost as hideous as the one he owes his nickname to. It was a gift from Chaos, who gifted similar sweaters to everyone else affiliated with the ChaotiX, so Konba, Valerie and Laurie are wearing those too.

And Jeff has his Power Gloves balled up in his jeans back pocket, just in case he opens the door expecting carolers and finds a certain golem standing there instead. Jeff’s pair is black.

There’s a Christmas tree with all the decorations, but instead of a star or an angel on top, there appears to be a little red and green jester atop the tree.

There was an angel on top of the tree when Jeff and Electra were done decorating it, but then they turned around for five seconds, and when they looked back at the tree, the angel was gone, and there was the jester.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Jeff finally found the angel, which had been bound and gagged by lengths of string and a small strip of duct tape, and shoved into the corner of his sock drawer.

Jeff chose not to ask Chaos why he felt the need to go that far.

He knows that Chaos is always willing to go the extra mile for a quick gag.

And he had a hard time explaining it to Laurie when she arrived with Charlie, but Chaos is public knowledge by now, so they quickly understood.

Laurie knows Jeff’s story. She saw his broadcast, just like everyone else in Cetteville.

Chaos has introduced himself to the Davises, too. At the impromptu barbecue. He has a soft spot for children, just as he has a soft spot for fluffies and woollies, and Charlie certainly seems to find Chaos’ reality-bending antics amusing, which Chaos genuinely appreciates.

So there was a present from Chaos in rainbow-colored wrapping paper with Charlie’s name on the tag under the tree when the Davises arrived, the contents not determined until Charlie opened it, and guaranteed to be something he likes.

Occasionally, Jeff glances suspiciously up at the ornament atop the tree, wondering when the full size version is going to make an appearance.

(Around the time Jeff notices the snowman on his lawn, and how many carrots it has.)

Jeff invited Konba, Valerie and the Davises to spend the day here, and with help from Calvin, picked out some nice presents for all of them. He wasn’t sure what kids like these days, and he had no idea what to get for the daughter of the world’s richest man.

Selecting a present for Konba, on the other hand, was much easier. When buying gifts for Saingans, pretty much anything with meat or alcohol in it will suffice.

And Laurie was happy to accept the invitation. She and Charlie live in a small apartment, too small to adopt a fluffy, so Jeff is happy that Charlie is getting along with the fluffies.

Laurie’s ex-husband has been trying to weasel out of paying alimony and child support ever since the divorce, which is why she can’t just get a bigger place.

Jeff briefly thought of asking Calvin or Victor to go have a word with the deadbeat, but then he remembered rescuing Calvin from Pumyz, realized that a deadbeat who refuses to pay alimony is much less scary than Pumyz was, and bravely volunteered to talk to the deadbeat himself, impressing Laurie further.

He'll do so as soon as Victor has tracked the guy down. That gives Jeff time to psyche himself up, and he’s starting to wonder why he keeps volunteering to do crazy things.

He thinks Calvin is rubbing off on him.

And once Jeff has that talk with Laurie’s deadbeat ex, she’ll probably be doing some rubbing off for him, out of gratitude.

Wink-wink, nudge-nudge, say no more guvna.

But today, Jeff and Laurie will be keeping their clothes on, because innocent eyes are present.

And their current arrangement will continue, at least until New Year’s Day.

They’ll see where to go from there.

At Blueberry’s Forest, Pierre finds himself hosting his annual Christmas lunch in the Fonda cabin instead of his own.

Besides Victor, Amy the Ant-Woman, Amber, Susan, Xavier, Xidorn, the Fonda family, Scarface, Bella, Binky, Woodstock and Blueberry’s herd being in attendance, Leo and his hippies have driven out to the forest to spend Christmas with the Fondas and the Fluffy Cartel, Leo’s school bus parked next to the Mothership again.

It’s like a miniature Yuletime Woodstock festival. In the woods.

The Fluffy Cartel is outside, the Brownie Palace swimming in a babbling sea of colors, because Blueberry invited all of the other herds in the forest to the Brownie Palace for Christmas dinner, as part as a relatively brilliant scheme to foster cooperation between the herds.

He had Zip send invitations to the smarties of the other herds. Zip was trained by Bolt, and is the fastest fluffy in the forest by far, so he works as the Cartel’s Postmaster General.

Zip has his own hat, and saddlebags, so he can deliver messages and packages, but fluffy literacy is a work in progress, so he’s not delivering letters yet.

He's starting to hope that more fluffies develop superspeed, so he doesn’t have to do the rounds by himself. Bolt and Marley pitch in whenever Zip needs a break.

Fluffies can smell which herd a given fluffy is from, so there won’t be any confusion when the herds part ways later.

Fortunately, Pierre is more than rich enough to accommodate so many additional guests, even if his current place of residence is very rustic. He quickly calculated how much food everyone would need, accounted for people asking for seconds, and erred on the side of caution.

If there’s any food left over, Leo’s hippies and the other herds will all be free to take some home with them.

Inside the cabin, everyone is sitting at an extra-long table, and Pierre insisted that the hippies clean themselves up a bit before coming inside.

Pierre actually had to build a few Remote Bodies to prepare all of the food required by so many extra guests. He always kept the implant that lets him remotely control them with his mind after his old Remote Bodies were all destroyed.

He'll put off dismantling the new ones until after he’s done with the washing-up.

While he’s not very eager to start slipping back into bad habits, he doesn’t want to do that job with one pair of hands.

At the Sanctum, Deston and Annette host their own annual Christmas lunch for the magical community. It’s a mages-only event. Very traditional for the Archmage to host Christmas at the Sanctum.

There’s a massive table, magically reinforced to support the uncountable dishes, bearing high-calorie foods like turkeys and puddings and a butter sculpture of the Sanctum, and nary a vitamin to be found.

As usual, Deston and Annette are at the head of the table, François and Audrey on one side, Sorcière and Tiff on the other.

June’s in England, hosting her own Christmas party for the Baron clan in her house, but there’s little preventing the ChaotiX and their allies from dropping in on each other’s celebrations, wherever they may be.

Sorcière has just pulled a Christmas cracker with Merlin, who is standing on the table with Ridcully and You, and the crackers the wizards get have much more impressive things inside than a flimsy paper hat.

But Sorcière does find something wrapped in paper inside the cracker.

She unwraps it, revealing a corked vial of a deep purple fluid and holding it up.

“Grandpa, what’s this? Is this for me?”

Deston shakes his head.

“No, Sorcie. It’s for Merlin. Pierre and I have been talking, and we’ve come to a decision…”

He reaches a hand out to stroke Merlin’s star-spangled fluff.

“It’s time for Merlin here to start living up to his name. That vial? It contains the very same serum we used when we created Umbra, and we can use it on you.”

Merlin gasps.

“Su yu am sayin…”

Deston nods with a warm smile.

“Yes. You shall finally possess the gift of magic.”

At the Stahlberg house, Erwin finds himself receiving more guests than he can ever remember having in his house before.

Because Kirk has invited Karla over for Christmas dinner with Erwin, Argyrum, Asimov, Hershey, Knuckles, and the Shadow Klyntar, and the whole Lopez family followed in Karla’s wake, bringing plenty of tupperware containers full of food to spare Erwin from Pierre’s ordeal.

Erwin tried inventing an automatic turkey-cooking machine once, but when he tested it out, he gave himself food poisoning.

He may be a brilliant doctor of medicine, mechanics and robotics, but he’s no gourmet chef, and when he lived alone, most of his meals came out of the microwave.

So he’s truly grateful, not just for the food, but for the company.

He spent a lot of Christmases by himself in this house, having no one to eat with, or pull crackers with, or watch corny specials with.

He built Asimov because he couldn’t stand the deafening silence anymore.

And from there, Erwin found himself a very unusual family. Hershey is the most normal one living in this house, and she’s still a fluffy.

Well, fluffies are normal to anyone who was born after they were created.

This whole weird, wild, wonderful world is normal to anyone too young to remember the days before the Demonic Invasion.

But keep in mind: this was never the world outside your window.

Erwin was happy to give Kirk a place to live after Kirk was deprogrammed, to help him adjust to modern life after being on ice for decades.

Kirk was frozen in World War II. Who do you think got him that smartphone, and taught him how to use it?

When Argyrum cut ties with Hans following his betrayal, Erwin was just as happy to welcome them into his home, and teach them about Earth culture.

And Erwin has been overjoyed to see Kirk thrive in the modern age, to adopt a fluffy and find romance, to prove that he can live a normal life despite his powers, and the traumatic circumstances of his empowerment.

While Kirk is technically older, Erwin is more mature. They may be first cousins once removed, but Erwin sees Kirk as something more like a nephew, or even a son.

The feeling is mutual. Kirk sees Erwin as a much better father figure than Hans ever was.

Together, they will restore the Stahlberg family’s besmirched honor.

On a rooftop elsewhere in Cetteville, Venom and Toxin look down at the streets of their new city of residence.

“Su, how yu feew-in abowt dis?”

“Dis nu am a bad pwace tu stay. A gud sitty fow fwuffies, we haf huwd.”

“Yuh, San Fwan-siss-koh am nice, but Set-viw gut a wot mowe guin awn.”

Both symbiotic fluffies look up at Faucheuse Tower, the giant tree of the rooftop garden decorated with lights for the season, just like the Christmas tree down in the Plaza.

“An, uh, San Fwan-siss-koh nu gut aneefing wike DAT. But we shud pwob-ab-wee git back tu da Skoow. We nu wan Caw tu woh-wee.”

Venom turns to grin at Toxin.

“Yu wanna take da FUN way back?”

Toxin nods, grinning the same way.

“Suwe.”

“Den fowwoh ouw weed, an wemembew yu twain-in.”

Venom leaps off the roof, Toxin leaping after them.

thwip

thwip

Both symbiotic fluffies swing away on webs, black and red respectively.

At the Oldman Farm, Leslie, Keith, Lavender, Oak and Nardos put the finishing touches on the snowman the Oldmans built together.

Yes, there’s snow this far away from the city, and that’s still Calvin holding back.

All of the other Oldman fluffies are inside, with Helen, Jim, Klaus, Chris, Amy B, James, and Lilah, watching Christmas movies and making hot chocolate.

Leslie told them to go ahead and get started with that, these four will follow the others inside shortly.

The stallions tried to help roll the balls of snow, using their experience from Lavender, Daisy and Rose’s pregnancies.

But once those snowballs got too big, they couldn’t be rolled by ordinary fluffies anymore, and the humans had to take it from there.

It was still a valiant effort.

In San Francisco, Michelle Howard lies on the bed of her cell, wearing a jumpsuit, looking up at the ceiling with her hands behind her head, tapping her foot in irritation.

She’s trying not to look at the poster of Venom on one wall.

After she tried tearing it off the wall and ripping it to pieces, she woke up the next morning to find the poster intact and whole, and now permanently affixed to the wall.

So she hasn’t ripped it up again, and is just trying to delete the poster from her personal universe.

Michelle’s eyes drift towards the small barred window, sunlight shining in between the bars.

And that puts a smile on her face, because she knows who is watching her, from every photon in that sunbeam.

“Please get me out of this soon, Pax.”

In Philadelphia, Jack, Magnum, Nebula, Johnny and Lucas stand in front of the grave of Philly, Jack’s first fluffy, fresh flowers on the grave.

Despite Jack and his fluffies moving to Cetteville around a year ago with Max and Fireball, Jack makes a point to return to Philadelphia frequently, and certainly at Christmas, to pay his respects.

Philly was a gift from an ex-boyfriend, and that relationship was very toxic and abusive.

It’s something that Jack has never been able to discuss with his fellow ChaotiX members. None of his teammates know about the time he spent living in Boston, and if any of them do know, they probably understand why Jack doesn’t like talking about it.

But that is why Jack was so worried about Pax’s threat to expose the ChaotiX’s secrets, and his boast of knowing things about the team that even Calvin doesn’t know.

And Jack is still worried that the ChaotiX will learn the truth about his past.

How weak he thinks he really is, despite his amazing powers over time.

In the new year, Jack’s worst fears may very well come true.

Even on Tenneb Island, just off the coast of Cuba, things are looking festive, the black capsule houses decorated with lights, albeit dimmed down a bit, and a big black Christmas tree at the center of the capsule town.

They already sell black Christmas trees for vampires, before you ask. Vampires have very specific tastes in decorations.

It is on this island that the remaining Tennebites have lived in a town of capsule houses since the destruction of New Tenneb, guarded by what is left of the Tennebite military and the ChaotiX’s Gudniks.

This island has a lot of history. It was once the home of El Padrino, the ruthless drug lord who seemingly perished in a plane crash, and eventually became the headquarters of Hans’ final failed plot to create his perfect world of perfect machines, before falling into the ChaotiX’s custody and going unused until the destruction of New Tenneb and the sudden need to house the surviving refugees on the only planet that would take them in.

Since then, Scha, Duwen and Merlom have ruled this island together, trying to teach the Tennebites to leave their bigoted ways in the past before xenophobia costs them what little they have left.

Something that the ChaotiX have been very involved with, naturally.

Calvin showed up in a Santa costume on Christmas Eve, bringing gifts for the Tennebites as a show of goodwill, plenty of toys for the Tennebite tots. He had already done so for the Mitlans up in Cleveland.

And Victor was persuaded to tag along dressed as one of Santa’s elves, having cooked up a variety of Christmas dishes for the Tennebites to sample, and having made plenty of eggnog. Victor even made non-alcoholic eggnog for the younger Tennebites to try, as much as he prefers his drinks alcoholic.

Victor brought plenty of hot chocolate, too. Once the Tennebites were convinced to try chocolate, they finally understood why the rest of the universe went nuts for the stuff.

All but the oldest and stubbornest of the Tennebites accepted the gifts with gratitude. (If stubbornest isn’t a word, it should be.)

The youngest Tennebites were the most grateful, Captain Kerdon’s boys always being happy to see Calvin.

In one of those capsule houses, the Princes of Tenneb Island host their own Christmas lunch, having taken a crash course on Christmas traditions with the ChaotiX’s help.

They were invited to the Christmas party last night, as well as the Kelmu Force, just as Calvin promised.

When Duwen found himself under the mistletoe with Eira and the purpose of said mistletoe was explained to the princely brothers (along with Eira’s goal to kiss every adult humanoid at the party), he politely declined to kiss her, which she accepted with grace, settling for a handshake.

Eira could understand that even though Duwen is making an earnest effort to abandon his bigotry, sucking face with a non-Tennebite still feels like a step too far for him.

She’ll try again next year.

Scha spent the rest of the evening giving the mistletoe a wide berth, becoming the only person in history to be more scared of mistletoe than Balder.

Eventually, Merlom decided to take that one for the team as a diplomatic gesture, and to show his brothers that a peck on the lips from a non-Tennebite won’t kill them. (He wasn’t expecting Eira to practically stick her tongue down his throat, but it did reinforce the point he was trying to make.)

Zhala Jr. would have done the same thing for the same reason, but dinotites aren’t the best at kissing on account of not having lips.

Yes, he was invited too, with Rhez and Taka, and ZJ spent the whole evening asking questions and taking notes. Christmas isn’t really a thing on Primal Earth.

Nadia, Lorik and Peter were just as curious when they celebrated their first Christmas two years ago, and so was Ursula last year. It’s not really a thing on Magicca either.

Sure, most people off Earth don’t know that much about the reasons behind the season, but Christmas seems to appeal to a lot of them for various reasons.

Especially the Saingans, for whom a fight over dinner is hardly uncommon, and all of their holidays revolve around eating, drinking and fighting.

Scha, Duwen and Merlom share a table with Captain Kerdon, his wife, sons and the fluffy Kerdon begrudgingly allowed his sons to adopt, Captain Karann, the entire Kelmu Force, and even Minister Mersche.

They’re all wearing Santa hats, and there is black where one would usually expect red. Yes, they sell those for vampires too.

Mersche can’t taste anything on account of not having a tongue, but the ChaotiX has offered a regeneration treatment to any Tennebites who lost their tongues to overuse of tongueshield.

Who, again, are the oldest and most reluctant to adapt to Earth cuisine, but it’s that or starve to death these days. The staples of the Tennebite diet were lost with the destruction of New Tenneb.

But they can still smell food.

And they can’t help but admit that Earthling food smells pretty tasty. They want to see what the big deal about chocolate is for themselves.

Sometimes, all that is needed to make peace with an enemy is to break bread with them.

Or maybe break a Kit-Kat bar with them, if that works too.

In Fairy Hollow, the fluffy serving as the Forgotten One’s host smiles up at Gaius.

“Merry Christmas, Gaius.”

Gaius chuckles, his branches shaking slightly. His beloved fairies are resting in his leaves, and from a distance, he looks like a big talking Christmas tree with a face.

“Likewise, old friend.”

He witnessed the recent battle in Cetteville, giving his mysterious spiritual friend a running commentary.

When Calvin unleashed the Meteoric Slash, the Forgotten One had to ask Gaius to slow down and repeat that part, because he wasn’t sure his host’s ears were hearing it correctly.

But once the initial shock had passed, the Forgotten One was nothing but proud of Calvin, for taking that technique and pushing it further than its original use ever did.

It won’t be long until Calvin returns for the fourth lesson.

And then, he will have learned half of the ancient techniques that the Forgotten One never got a chance to pass down.

Yes, there’s eight of them in total.

It is a number of great cosmic significance.

On the magical side of the universe, Dehak stands in the new alchemical workshop with Senior Alchemist Eli Khzar, still currently the New Order’s only alchemist.

This workshop looks much like the one Eli had back at the Eternal Gentlemen’s Club in Massachusetts, but bigger, and without less decorations.

Most of the stuff Eli had in his workshop in the Club was just for the proper look, not because he actually needed it. Appearances have always mattered to him.

And he had figured out the bare minimum he needed to produce a dose of the Elixir of Life that delayed his death for so long ages ago. On more than one occasion, he had been deprived of his workshop and his reserves of Elixir and had to make do with what he had to buy himself enough time to work his way back up.

In the end, he couldn’t escape death forever. He fully understands that now.

And if Eli can be honest with himself, he considers his current situation an upgrade over the Club racket he maintained for so long.

He's not in Hell, he’s corporeal, and he doesn’t need to take his medicine anymore. He no longer has to sit through the same old stories he heard from his fellow Club members a thousand times, and the only real downside is that he doesn’t get to spend a lot of time outdoors.

But all of that is dependent on keeping his new employer happy. Dehak gave Eli everything he has now, and Dehak can take it away.

So, since the events earlier this month, Eli has been working around the clock to carry out the task he was given, not needing to stop for food or rest.

When he saw what Dehak had managed to procure, Eli knew how he did so, and how Victor must have reacted, so Eli is hoping to not cross paths with Victor again.

But Dehak promised that Eli has nothing to fear from Victor if he produces the results desired by the lich, and today, those results have arrived.

The Philosopher’s Stone stolen from Victor’s cabin is on a desk, next to two other things.

A stack of bars of lead, and a bottle of golden liquid.

Eli grabs a bar, placing it apart from the others. He’s wearing a thick pair of gloves and an apron over his white suit, both the gloves and the apron made from dragon hide, and he's still wearing the skull amulet that keeps him corporeal in the living world.

“I never forgot any of my formulas, you know.”

Then he grabs the bottle, carefully applying a few drops of the golden liquid to the lead bar.

“Just watch and wait, my good man.”

Eli and Dehak watch, as the lead bar absorbs the drops.

A change immediately spreads throughout the bar of lead, from the spot where the drops landed. The metal brightens and sparkles, going from dingy grey to glorious golden.

And when the change stops, the lead bar has seemingly been turned into a bar of purest solid gold.

Which is something else that magic cannot do by itself, on account of gold’s anti-magical properties.

When Eli taps the newly transmitted gold bar with the Philosopher’s Stone in a very specific way, the bar briefly glows blood red.

“And now, the transmutation has been rendered permanent. This gold will stay gold.”

“Let me see if your words ring true, Eli. If they do not, I suggest that you start begging for mercy now, because you won’t get a chance later, if I realize that you lied to me.”

Dehak picks the apparent gold bar up, closely examining it, feeling its weight in his hand, quickly biting it and checking the bite mark he leaves in it.

It’s certainly as soft as gold is supposed to be. Otherwise, Dehak would have chipped a rotten tooth on it, and no dentist in any world is qualified to treat a lich. They’d just give up and reach for a pair of pliers.

And it’s also as heavy as gold is supposed to be. To be certain, Dehak weighs it on a scale he grabs from a shelf, judging its weight against that of one of the lead bars still in the stack.

Sure enough, the gold bar is heavier than the lead bar, and Dehak knows a lot about the periodic elements, partially thanks to Huey Randolph, one of his recruits from Earth.

But there’s one more test that Dehak can do to confirm his suspicions.

He holds the gold bar up again, pointing at it with his free hand.

“Whys.”

Dehak’s spell fails to do anything to the bar of gold in his hand. It was meant to teleport the bar a few feet away.

This gold bar is also just as anti-magical as gold is supposed to be, and Dehak can only draw one conclusion:

That Eli was speaking nothing but the truth, that the bar of lead has, in fact, been transmuted into a bar of genuine gold, and that the Philosopher’s Stone has rendered that transmutation permanent.

So Dehak smiles in satisfaction.

“Yes, that will do. Good work, Eli.”

“But, er, now the hard part is turning that gold into something you can actually spend, unless paying in gold bars is common around here. I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t even aware that the magical side of the universe was a thing when I was alive.”

“Well, gold coins aren’t unheard of, but not every filthy peasant in Drakonia walks around with a pouch full of gold. Most of them are lucky to see two gold drakes during their pitifully short lives.”

“It’s going to be harder to spend this gold on Earth, you know. Paying in gold is a lot less common than in the older days.”

Dehak chuckles knowingly, thinking about his drive across America with the Rider, Varney, the Many and Shadow Calvin.

“Yes, you don’t have to tell me about that. I am well aware what currencies are in use on Earth, and how the government can track you by the transactions you make. I have heard of the one called Al Cap-Own, who committed many crimes, but could only be brought down for tax evasion.”

Eli sighs wistfully and nostalgically.

“I miss the old days. The more gold you had, the fewer questions you had to answer about where you got it. But these days, the government wants to know where every cent you have came from, what you spend it on, and where it is right now! It kept getting harder and harder to cover my tracks!”

Dehak pats his shoulder.

“In the coming world, Eli, things will be much simpler. And thanks to you, we’re another step closer to that world. We will find a way to spend the gold you create, don’t worry about that. Randolph will have his own facilities, and both of you will have plenty of helping hands, and the resources to create whatever we need to carry out our goals.”

He grins maliciously.

“Because the Philosopher’s Stone’s power pales in comparison to the power we shall possess.”

The door slams open, one of the New Order’s rank and file running in.

“Lord Dehak! We have a situation!”

Dehak turns to the minion, his grin melting like a snowman in July.

“A situation? Did someone get run over again? Did they drop Carnage’s jar, or has another adventurer stumbled their way in? Well? Out with it!”

“Worse than that, my Lord… see… that thing we were keeping in the lowest levels… that… slimy black version of him…”

The minion struggles to finish his sentence.

“…I’m afraid that it has escaped, my Lord.”

In a white void, Pax sits in his white armchair, wearing his white robe, steepling his fingers as he watches one of his white televisions.

His Peacemakers are safe and sound, with the sole exception of Michelle, but even she is still being watched by Pax, through every photon in her vicinity.

He doesn’t really need the televisions anymore, but he spent so long using them for Michelle’s benefit that it’s become a habit.

Pax hasn’t given up. He will return with his Peacemakers, when the time is right.

At the edge of the horizon…

Lies the Light That Burns the Sky.

And until then, Pax will let Calvin and the ChaotiX be Dehak’s problem.

Calvin is right, Pax doesn’t like Dehak any more than he likes Calvin.

He sees the conflict between him and Dehak as akin to a game of chess, a game that has been played in every timeline where the Light’s primary puppet crosses paths with Dehak.

And there have only been two outcomes to that game so far: the Light wins, or Dehak loses.

For even when a Dehak successfully calls the Devourer into his reality before the Light of Peace can shine upon that timeline, Dehak realizes too late that he will be devoured like everyone else in the end, that his victory is merely one of the Pyrrhic variety.

This time, there is a new factor to be considered:

The Stones of Octavo. In the timelines the Light has seen where Dehak learns of those Stones, he never successfully acquires any of them, let alone the whole set.

But the Dehak of Timeline-1989 not only knows of the Stones, he has even wielded the power of one, albeit not for long, and is plotting to get his hands on all eight.

This concerns Pax deeply. The Light always feared that a Dehak who has tasted the power of Octavo would do anything to taste that power again.

And a Dehak with the power of all eight Stones of Octavo may very well be a threat to all realities, in the right circumstances.

So Pax knows that he needs to prevent those circumstances from ever coming about.

Because they’re mutually exclusive with the circumstances Pax needs to achieve his ends.

And he too wants to collect those Stones, if only to keep them away from the ChaotiX.

Pax and Dehak have more in common than either of them are willing to admit.

They are both old men empowered by cosmic forces of light and darkness to serve as those forces’ main puppets on the Prime Material Plane.

Both of them shed the names they were born with when they realized their true purpose.

And both of them see themselves as entirely new people, not the weak humans they were born as.

How much of Warren remains in Pax?

How much of Destuonn remains in Dehak?

Only time will tell.

Pax looks at his feet, the jar containing his saved scrap of the Anti-Venom Klyntar resting on the blank white thing that serves as a floor here.

He picks it up, smiling at the blob of white slime in the jar.

“I’ll find a good host before long.”

Back on the Prime Material Plane, in Cetteville, inside the living room of the Korkea family’s apartment, Marley turns in the direction of the front door.

“Daddeh am back.”

Everyone save Calvin was waiting here, like he said: Judy, Young Quin, Future Quin, Roxie, Eira, Ronnie, Scott, Robert, Seth, Andre, Dave, Sandra, Harry, Delia, Andre’s parents, and their fluffies: Piccolo, Snowball, Caelum, Moe, Magic, Slayer, Wario, Dende, Ziggy, Frost, Mallow, and the Marleys of present and future.

There’s enough room for so many guests. Judy is a wizard, and this apartment has become a house of magic. It’s much bigger on the inside.

Everyone listens as Calvin unlocks the front door, heading through the hallway to the living room.

And when he walks in, he’s greeted by a room full of smiles.

In his cell beneath the School, Umbra reads the books he’s gotten for his previous two Christmases here.

He already ate that Christmas dinner he was gifted.

Right now, Umbra is the only one in the cells. Harvey is spending the day at the von Drachen house, with Cecil, Edward, Erdrick, Cid, Nadia, Lorik, Peter, Ursula, Aurelia and Alex the woolly.

Panthera and Nocturne are at the Sanctum. Since the Archmages of Earth and Magicca met, Deston usually invites Panthera.

For the last two years, Umbra has called this cell home. Ever since he was captured during the Liberation of Drakonia.

He’s sure it can’t have been that long, but he spends most of his time down here, and if it wasn’t for his captors keeping him updated, he’d lose track of time entirely.

The deal Calvin offered him is still on his mind. Calvin briefly visited this cell on his way home, reminding Umbra about the deal, and that it’s still on the table.

If Umbra proves that he can change for the better, not only will he be freed of his Mark of Justice, the ChaotiX will work on a way to restore his human form power.

Dehak initially granted him that power with the Lamp of Desire, and it was taken away by Marley, also using the Lamp.

Naturally, Umbra deeply misses it.

And he knows that Calvin has him cornered. Checkmated. Coming and going.

For Umbra to obtain what he needs to seek revenge, he has to no longer want revenge. Very Zen indeed.

Because changing for the better would require giving up on his schemes, and letting go of his burning need to punish the Faucheuse brothers and the ChaotiX for creating him and thwarting him respectively.

Umbra has spent most of his life working towards getting revenge on his creators. Vengeance is all he really knows.

But to decline the deal and continue his quest for vengeance would mean being denied the human body he wants so dearly. He will continue to be trapped in the fluffy body he was created with, which significantly limits his potential, and makes him easier to contain.

No matter what choice Umbra makes, Calvin wins.

And both of them know it.

In a distant timeline, Anti-Calvin hovers in a large bubble, which is floating down to the bottom of a very deep ocean trench.

This isn’t the first time he has visited this branch of reality. It’s a very odd one, with lots of interesting things to plunder.

Anti-Calvin is wearing his special Christmas hooded cloak: red, with white fur trimming. Only the glowing eyes of his mask can be seen in the shadow of his hood.

(They don’t exactly celebrate Christmas in this neck of the multiverse, but they celebrate a holiday that is more or less identical, except for a few superficial elements.)

And as Anti-Calvin’s bubble gets closer to the bottom of the trench, he can spot something glittering golden down there.

It’s only once Anti-Calvin reaches the bottom that he can clearly see what it is.

A massive pile of chunks of a metal that appears to be gold.

But that’s not gold, and it’s not chivalrium either. That is a metal unique to this branch of reality, with very unusual properties. It was originally discovered in Australia.

The pile that Anti-Calvin has found is the last known cache of that metal on this Earth.

On this Earth. A rocket made of the same metal is orbiting this Earth, its sole occupant probably being dead by now.

Wars have been fought over this metal, fought by teams of mercenaries who were inexplicably identical save for the colors of their clothes, and the designs of their fortresses.

And all along, both sides were unknowingly working for the same individual, who orchestrated a pointless conflict that went on for decades, for the pettiest of reasons.

That individual is dead now, and all of her hard work turned out to be for nothing. At the last second, she was betrayed by the one she thought would never betray her.

And all other reserves of that metal on the planet seem to have been depleted.

Whoever sunk this cache to the bottom of this trench clearly didn’t want anyone to use that metal ever again. Perhaps they were tempted to use it themselves, and feared what they would become.

But that is a story that has already come to an end, even though it took a while to get there. It is in moments like this that Anti-Calvin does his best work, the moments after the story has ended and the major players have moved on.

There is no real end to a story, just the part where the storyteller stops talking.

And once the prying eyes of the audience are looking elsewhere or elsewhen, it’s free game.

That’s how he acquired his mask, from a world with a terminal diagnosis. Once the boy in the green tunic plays his song and rewinds the clock, it doesn’t matter what happens in the timeline he leaves behind. Anything left in that walled city is free to loot, because it’s all going to be destroyed anyway, no one will miss it.

It's a strategy that has served Anti-Calvin well many times since he was abandoned in that timeline to die, and that strategy has lead him to the bottom of this trench.

Right now, anyone in this timeline who might possibly know about this cache of mysterious metal is thousands of miles away, celebrating a holiday much like Christmas, or dead, and not celebrating any kind of holiday at all.

By the time that they find out that the cache is gone, it will be too late.

When Anti-Calvin waves his hand, the chunks of metal float up, into his bubble.

“Let’s see what Anti-Doc can do with this.”

Even further out, at the Edge of Eternity, the Gilgamesh flies over the patchwork planet that is all that exists Out Here.

That planet is composed of pieces of countless destroyed Earths, populated only by the Things since the One Man Army stopped banishing multiversal criminals here.

As you should already be aware, this is the garbage dump of the omniverse. All sorts of stuff ends up here. Those pieces of Earths that have been destroyed, fragments of pruned timelines and unmade futures.

And the Things prowl across the patchwork planet, drawn to anything real, anything alive, like an ocean trying to warm itself around a candle.

Which, of course, has terrible consequences for the candle.

The big-brained Marley of Timeline-62, who owns the massive multiversal vessel he dubbed the Gilgamesh has scavenged many trinkets from the Edge of Eternity since he began exploring the multiverse with Zebediah, the friend he made in Timeline-1989.

Here, M-62 gained one of the things he needed to resurrect Emperor Adam Omega and Kushim, who, along with the three Gurus of Ad Laun Dyz, technically hail from Timeline-1989A.

But this time, M-62 and his friends are here for a much bigger score.

And from their current position in the command center of the Gilgamesh, M-62, Zebediah, Adam, Kushim and the Gurus can see their quarry from up ahead.

A floating continent, sealed inside a glowing bubble in the black sky, the closest thing to a sun or moon that the patchwork planet has.

When he sees it, Adam lets out a moan of longing.

“Eve… it’s been fourteen thousand years… but I’m finally going home.”

M-62 chuckles, wearing the helmet he uses to steer the ship with his thoughts. It’s strenuous, so he doesn’t do that all the time, just during excursions to the Edge of Eternity, when not even a single mistake can be afforded.

“Oh, Adam. You are most certainly mistaken, so much that I must correct you. We are not going to Ad Laun Dyz.”

He smiles a sinister, diabolical smile.

“Ad Laun Dyz is coming to us.”