“Man the towers!” Orevella stood between two massive black-stone pylons with twenty high-tier Wizards awaiting her orders. “File rank, Blue Saro group at the rear for detection. Orange Saro group at the head for offense. Form!”

  She used her floating gloves to emphasize her demands, sending box ranks of warriors to their positions.

  Alan stood upon his chariot, circling down from the sky with Ufanda flying at his side. The floating dress shimmered in the sunlight now that her Token status had grown with Alan’s godhood. Perfectly stitched and twice as speedy, she soared beside Alan to meet the Hutten Fie ranks.

  The chariot swooped to the ground beside Lady Orevella and turned ethereal as it flew away without him.

  “Mardonnus says that visions into Ojin have grown dark,” Alan warned. “Invasion is immanent.”

  “Indeed, Alan. Indeed. We have secured the portal pockets in all three realms, but they scatter randomly. Mazing efforts have been futile as a result. My guess? A side effect of merging.”

  The gloves rushed back to Orevella’s wheelchair and pushed her along so she could analyze the ranks.

  “The prince of Cerrain told a tidbit about our invader,” Alan said from beside her. “He has an insatiable eye for ultra-unique items spawned in Ojin. Does your realm have any we could somehow dangle in Jaeger’s face?”

  “Hm.” Orevella rubbed her chin. “Not without risking it falling into enemy hands, I’m afraid. Best to keep them hidden, I think. Why not dangle one of those frogs the Red Pact has been after?”

  “He knows they’re here for the taking. We need to surprise the prick. Pull his eye.”

  Ufanda swirled around them. “OooOo. We may have something from Hightower Brack stowed away in Token, Alan. A halberd with the ability to split the sky. Yes. OooOoh! It was used for extracting great batches of Saro and could feed an army in a jiff. I think it’d be quite useful to conquerors.”

  Alan looked to Lady Orevella, who nodded.

  “It could work, I suppose,” Orevella said.

  “What’s this weapon’s name?” Alan asked. “And who wields it?”

  “Cloudsplitter. Found and wielded by Jasper Siegfried the Third,” Ufanda said.

  “Fetch him and have him meet me by my throne room, please. We will have to carry out this operation carefully,” Alan warned.

  “It will be done—ooOoooO!” Ufanda flew away in a jiff.

  Alan turned to Orevella. “Do you fear the god-enders?”

  “Fear? No. But I would not take them lightly, Alan. Take out one god, watch the effects branch through a realm in a heartbeat. Gosfor and I have seen it in our earlier days, long ago. What’s worse, only the winds know what would happen in a situation like ours, with the realms all stitched together. We will have to tread carefully, Alan, and strike only when the moment is right.”

  “I say we stay in the background until we can identify the god-ender weapons. Send our troops to prioritize and converge once we have sight,” Alan said. “Only then will we have free rein to push the armies back.”

  “War often does not go as planned, good Alan.” Orevella patted his hand. “I for one will strike if I think the risk is worth it. I suggest you do the same. Our one advantage in this war is our home turf—our power.” She eyed him curiously. “Something you haven’t had much time to digest since you assumed the role.”

  “It’s true… But where would I find the time?”

  “A little hint—something you already know, I’m sure—but you are an amalgamation of your mortal self. Now that you’ve removed your emotional inhibitors, I see, you’ll have free rein to unleash your true strength.” She flashed a smile. “Meditate in these final hours. Learn of your potential. Leave the defensive strategies to us.”

  Alan clenched his jaw at that. The last thing he wanted to do was take a back seat during the most crucial planning phase. But Orevella was right. What if his power could drive an entire army back with the flip of a coin? That’d be something worth knowing.

  After a deep breath, he nodded at Orevella and summoned his chariot.

  While making quick rounds in Strangey Town and the Royal Horde, Alan broadcasted his orders throughout Token, using strategies to position his warriors and reinforce defenses around his towns. Perhaps letting emotional inhibitors free was a mistake at a time like this, because his anxiety was strangling. The frogs’ vision plagued his mind.

  He couldn’t let his alliance fall.

  As his gryphon throne room zoomed into view, he reached into his pouch, analyzing all of the new coins that’d spawned since he converted to godhood. His Vosh bubble used to only protect against projectiles, and could now manifest entire scenes within it. All of his minions, who were once stark warriors roaming Ojin alongside him, had grown into something different—Patrolgods empowered by Alan’s godly strength.

  What else can I use against the Red Pact?

  Feeling lost, he swung out his golden blade and swiped to release Durger on the mountaintop beside him.

  “Sir Alan.” Durger smiled wide with his arms out. His golden-outlined form was a welcome sight.

  “Woof!” Sir Ooman circled Alan’s legs.

  “Durger, my old friend.” Alan hugged him warmly.

  “You have returned from the rigidness of godhood. I sensed it in your actions.” Durger bear-hugged him tight. “We all feared the worst.”

  “It was a strange adjustment. I hope you can all forgive me.” Alan broke the hug.

  “Your noble sacrifice begs nothing of forgiveness. I am just glad you found your way back.”

  “Indeed, I feel like my old self again. Though now that I do, my heart breaks for Afarus.” Alan frowned.

  Durger nodded solemnly. “He very much enjoyed being in your presence. I heard him praying to his lost wife that mentoring you had become his after-afterlife’s work.”

  They both chuckled.

  “As a god, I thought I’d know for sure what happened to a soul after it perished from here. But I’m as clueless as I was when mortal.” Alan looked to the sky. “Hmph. I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this now—”

  “On the contrary, you need to mourn.” Durger lowered his head. “Take it from me. My failure to accept my pet as passed cost me my second life.”

  “But you found him in your third. Or second-and-a-half?” Alan scratched his head.

  “I did.” Durger crouched to pet the pup. “I lost a lot along the way. If you’re to find Afarus again, it will happen along the wheel of fate. Just don’t let his passing be in vain. Token needs you.”

  Alan rubbed his temple. “I wonder if I should shove those emotional inhibitors back in place for the war, Durger.”

  He shook his head. “You’re better this way.”

  “Lady Orevella seems to think so too.” Alan peered over the mountaintop, to the ranks of soldiers marching into position. “But I’m not sure I’m what’s needed to combat an army twenty times our size. I’ve already done my part as Merchant. I’ve brokered our worlds. I’ve stacked our realm with great defenders from my travels. What else can I do?”

  “I think your answers lie in the realm beyond mortality,” Durger said. “I found more about myself in the dark blade than I did while alive, Alan. Take that for what it’s worth. And just know… we will always be by your side.”

  Warmth spread like a hearth throughout Alan’s chest, empowering him and brightening the Token sun.

  I have to understand my powers… I have to learn how I can protect on a godly scale.

  He stared Durger in his hope-filled eyes. “Pull me out at the first sign of trouble.”

  “I will do my best.” He nodded.

  Alan walked to the cliff edge, taking in a deep breath while surveying the valleys beneath him. “All of this formed by the grace of Mother Balooma. She entrusted this realm to me, and I in turn molded it with my memories. Filled it with good people. It is precious.” He sat cross-legged and shut his eyes. “And Jaeger seeks to destroy it all.”

  Durger walked to his side, saying nothing.

  “He’ll throw temptation to make the most powerful of us falter. I must find a way to be one step ahead.”

  As he took a deep breath, a rush of energy pooled to his head, making his body feel as light as air. Compressed pressure consolidated in his mind, until a flash sent him back into ultimate consciousness—the plane where he became the Realm Merger.

  Blinking open his eyes to endless cosmos would always be jarring.

  He spun to his spheres soldered together, then again to the massive black orb shrouded in mystery—Ojin. Somewhere far beyond the enemy realms twinkled, but he dared not focus on them for fear of being found out.

  There was another purpose here. Meditation. Letting the flow of the universe course through him and understand the limits of his power. Invisible bolts of lightning zapped through him, coming from one direction. Ojin. It was the impending invasion, he knew. A deep threat.

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  Understanding his new arsenal would be critical in thwarting the enemy. He willed his coin pouch to float, and just by thinking, it flowed the coins to be spinning slowly in front of him. His Five Pearls. What had they evolved into?

  Ting!

  They whooshed around him with golden outlines. He understood that while their power was the same, his grasp on fresh memories made the encapsulated conjuring that much greater. He could encapsulate Mujungo’s lightning, high-level warriors from his weapon trances… and—

  It hit him—the frogs’ visions. He could use those to strike fear in the enemy army. He could mimic Jaeger’s forces and have them standing opposite his enemy as soon as they decided to invade. It would be a cheap trick, but one that could throw them off course.

  Feeling the map of Token in his mind, he concentrated hard on pinpointing his minions. He could connect with them just by thinking it, reminding him of the battle royale he put together in Hightower Brack—only the expanse was that much greater. Filtering Saro halfway around a world on a whim was something he could definitely use.

  Alan Right

  Affinity: God

  Title: Merger of Realms

  Discovered Ability:

  Patrol-possession: Use your godhood Saro to enhance or swap any of your Patrolgods within the realm of Token.

  Note: This ability also can be used to communicate specific commands or filter specific Saro into a Patrolgod.

  Alan thought about all his friends, cycling through them—Yogi, Hendra, Figro, Ufanda, Gardstrife. They all beamed with fervor, ready to defend the realm. He could sense each of their affinities and decided to mentally project a message of potential future swaps so they weren’t jarred if it happened.

  He then wondered what enhancements his trances would endure:

  Discovered Enhancement:

  Source Clairvoyance* (unique)—Inspect the origins of any item and understand its worth.

  Enhancement: Summon the origin spirit of the item’s original wielder to fight on your behalf for a short duration.

  Note: The spirit is a shadow of the memory.

  Note: The magnitude of this ability may deplete the wielder.

  Alan’s eyes widened at the enhancement. He’d have to use it sparingly, if at all, and tactically for it to matter. He’d take a page out of Jaeger’s book and find some kind of hand-me-down connection to make his generals falter.

  He took out his Soul Collector next, remembering its once-shadowy black form and how it morphed into a godly golden blade.

  Discovered Enhancement:

  Soul Collector:

  Saro* (altered): Colorless

  Ability: Store captured souls within the blade and evoke them to do thy bidding. Beware, the tolls of a trapped soul echo to their captor.

  Enhancement: Yellow Saro can be used to make evoked spirits indestructible for a short duration.

  Note: This enhanced ability can only be used once an Ojin moon cycle and applies to all evoked souls at once.

  Alan pushed the notifications away. “I’m glad I listened to Orevella and came here to review these skills rather than stumbling all over them in the heat of battle. What else—”

  “Sir—”

  A jolt shook him out of concentration.

  “Sir Alan!”

  “Woof!”

  With a bout of anxiety, Alan shut his eyes and zoomed back to the present, hopping to his feet in fear of the worst. A quake reverberated at his feet.

  “What is it, Durger?”

  “A rumbling. The first attempt at the combined spheres since Fatuk—”

  Fshh!

  Madam Mar whooshed around on a patch of dirt and crashed it right over the throne ledge. “I managed to shut them out with one of Nastaf’s Orange Saro explosives locked on the other side. But it will not keep them for long.”

  “Woof! Woof! Arf!” Sir Ooman jumped in place near the other ledge of the cliff, wagging his tail.

  “What is it, boy?” Durger furrowed his brow as they all came closer to look.

  Alan stepped up to the ledge to see thousands of Token citizens peering up to them. Merchants, forgers, cooks. People who sought something other than fighting, now looking up to their god.

  “Address them, Alan. Ease their fears,” Madam Mar suggested.

  “And what if I’m wrong?” Alan said.

  “Speak as if you aren’t, god Alan, because your words will make a difference, and without us? The universe is lost.”

  Alan narrowed his eyes, then lifted one arm, creating rock steps for him to descend close enough to see them.

  Boom!

  Another tower formed at his feet.

  Boom!

  Another.

  Nervous cheers came from the town below. They know what’s coming.

  Flint and Itsy came roaring to orbit Alan as he stood one hundred feet in the air over his people.

  “Aha, Alan. We are here ’til the end!” Flint pumped his fist. “And the end, I think, is far, far away!”

  Alan couldn’t help but smirk at his quirky friend, then took a breath to address his citizens, “Token. Strangey. Hutten Fie and the Royal Horde. We are all one force to stand against many,” his voice blared through the realms. “In the face of our conquerors, we hold the advantage. Because we defend our home!” His eyes sparked with golden lightning.

  All of his failures on Earth flashed through his mind. The nights wasted watching shows on his couch, the endless scolding from his family and Trish, the shit-talking from her friends… If they could see him now. He wished this moment would echo deep into the universe, to dispel the doubt of wasted potential.

  I may have failed on Earth. But I learned my lesson. My purpose has been realized.

  Shouts reached his ears from below and afar.

  The Fate Chasers swooped from the sky, echoing his sentiment.

  I’d give my life for Token.

  “We built this realm together, in our image. Refuge, fair trade, kinship. These are the cornerstones of Token we build upon. And we’ve only just begun. Don’t let Jaeger take it.”

  “Ya!” Warriors pumped their fists within ranks. Wizards atop their towers roared while hurling Saro blasts to the sky. Token had grown, and their sentiment empowered Alan, which in turn empowered the realm.

  Boom!

  Another quake shook the ground, begging Alan to turn to Madam Mar.

  “Another breach!” she shouted while switching between multiple portal windows. “I can’t hold them much longer.”

  Alan clenched his jaw and faced the crowd. “Do not fret, warriors. We will face this army strong, and I will lead it.”

  Although the declaration wasn’t the wisest in the face of god-ender weapons, it was the boldest. And that was what was needed now more than ever. Besides, if one of the weapons were to present itself, then the realms could swarm like white blood cells to destroy it.

  If I’m the noble sacrifice, so be it.

  Hopefully, in the face of my demise, the rest of the gods can combine efforts to keep Token afloat and take my place.

  Lady Orevella and Gosfor would no doubt honor my wishes.

  He leapt down toward the front of the towers, enjoying the winds rushing into his face.

  Crnch!

  He landed heroically among his people, leaving golden cracks in the ground that quickly refilled. Eight box ranks of two hundred warriors each stood at attention all around, and the towers erected on the outskirts of town gave him comfort. Wizard and Dreamcatcher barriers would be strong.

  He turned around to citizens bunching up behind him, crowding the town streets. One woman pushed to the forefront, with a pink nose and oversized robes.

  Neesha.

  Her eyes were glassy, lips pushed to the side, as if deciding whether or not to forgive Alan for the storm still lingering between them.

  He held out a hand for her to join him—to at least say goodbye.

  She shuffled up beyond the citizens, holding up her hand to tell the Knights she passed that it was alright.

  “I wish our story was less choppy, Alan.” She rested her hand in his.

  “That’s what makes it ours.” Alan smiled sadly at her.

  She looked to the ground while letting their arms idly swing.

  Boom!

  The ground quaked a third time, evoking gasps from Token citizens.

  “It did start with a stone across the head.” Alan smiled more warmly at Neesha, making her face light up with laughter. “I don’t know what’s so funny. You could’ve killed me, you know.”

  “Would’ve avoided a lot of heartache.” She tilted her head, considering.

  Although the banter between them was light, the undertone tightened his chest. Where Gregorian threw the first wrench in their potential relationship, Trish surely threw the second.

  “You’d still be running from that Yero’losh if not for me and Yogi.” Alan smirked, flipping out his Vosh coin to envelope the two of them into a projection of the swamp they’d met in.

  The dark-gray fog pulled away like curtains, revealing the oversized grass and murky swamp below the cliff.

  “In your dreams. I knew exactly what I was doing.” She folded her arms, eyeing the path she once ran down on the other side of the cliff.

  They were alone in this moment, away from the pensive crowd and determined warriors.

  “Admittedly, my journey may have been a little less fun had I watched you run by.” Alan’s godly golden eyes faded back to normal.

  “Less fun? You wouldn’t know your ass from your elbow if not for my tutelage!” She summoned her stones to cycle her before magically stuffing them back into her robes.

  “Oh is that so? Hm.” Alan faced forward, peering toward the Ojin sky. “The gardener of Cerrain turned Stone Chaser, turned master Healer of Token. I guess you may have a point.” He pulled her close.

  Their eyes scanned one another. So much anxiety and chemistry twisted together.

  “The last time the sky was falling, we missed our moment,” Alan said. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t learn my lesson.” He glanced at her lips and leaned in for a kiss.

  Her entire body relaxed to let him in. The tension dispelled when their lips touched for the first time. It was magic. From worlds apart, they finally came together to share all of their love and frustration, if not for a moment.

  Boom!

  The Token ground shook so hard, it reverberated within the Vosh bubble, begging them to break away.

  Alan retreated slowly, enjoying Neesha’s smile and closed eyes. He felt the same way—entranced, and regretful for not doing it sooner.

  Still wrapped in his arms, he kept her slightly dipped. “I’ll remember this moment wherever the universe takes me next.”

  “You’re not dying, Alan.” She gently traced a finger along his bottom lip. “Your realm needs you. I need you.”

  Boom!

  That last tremor turned Alan serious. “Keep our friends alive.”

  “Only if you do the same for yourself.” She adjusted his breastplate and slapped it twice. “Embrace godhood. We’re counting on you.”

  Alan clenched his jaw. “Ready?”

  “Hm.” She nodded.

  In a flash, he rewound the Vosh bubble back to a trembling Token. Extending his hand, he let Neesha run toward Flint and Itsy and then switched his consciousness to the realm map of Saro—pinpointing the source of the tremor.

  He flicked an orb of Blue Saro up toward his throne room, prickling Madam Mar.

  “I have coordinates of a budding portal near the border of Token and the Royal Horde,” he said.

  “I can’t hold it any longer, Alan. I’m sorry,” Mar’s voice reached his ears.

  “So it begins.” Alan tightened his fists, then held up Ara’s feather. “Defend the realms with your life!”

  “Hoo!” the soldiers roared from across the realm, giving Alan goosebumps.

  Kaw!

  Ara and her gold-armored gryphon fleet soared down, where Alan leapt high to meet them. The chariot faded ethereal to absorb him into his rightful position, and then they were off.

  His periphery blurred, as did the mountainous plain as they zoomed west to the boarder. Flint did his best to keep up on his sled with Itsy and Neesha, popping his staff over and over to create slipstreams.

  What would Jaeger throw at them first?

  As he approached the streak in the sky that stitched together the realms, he descended harshly toward a patch of Variant Saro budding in his vision. The portal.

  High-level warriors surrounded it in ranks, with Itsy’s brother, Roland, at the forefront. Alan sunk through his chariot and landed with a powerful bang before the budding portal.

  The warriors gasped.

  “Godly Alan, let us defend you!” a zealous Knight called.

  Alan looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be the leader this day. Is Gosfor hidden?”

  “Safe within the Iron Cellar,” Roland said.

  Alan drew his golden Soul Collector. “If a god-ender finds my heart, focus only on detaining it.”

  “It will be done, Alan.” Roland flipped his staff into the ready position as they faced the budding portal.

  “Hey, stupids!” Itsy marched in front of them all, brandishing an oversized leaf that she fastened into a whip. “Prepare for projectiles, storming forces, anything and everything that might come out of there. Protect crazy Alan at all costs!”

  “Hra! For the hand of Gosfor!” the warriors yelled.

  “By the nose hairs of Fulbane, they know we’re awaiting them, Alan. They must.” Flint gripped his staff tight.

  Alan swung out his golden souls, who all formed with their weapons in hand. “I’m counting on it.”