Ozzy turned to look at the Saint, a stream of unhelpful emotions clouding his thoughts as he stared down the man responsible for the suffering and temporary death of his friend. Going against even his own heavenly laws, for no greater reason than to gain a tool by which to manipulate him.

  “It is truly a pleasure to have you aboard Ozzy.” The saint extended a hand out towards Ozzy. His smile as brilliant and full of luster as the distant stars.

  Ozzy did not take the proffered hand.

  The Saint's smile faltered and winked out. “I had hoped we might approach things amicably, as friends even.” He began putting more effort into his smile but Ozzy could see right where it ended.

  “That ship sailed when he used my friend like some throw-away bargaining chip.” Ozzy spat, resisting the urge to literally spit on the floor at the man's feet.

  “It was an unfortunate necessity-” The Saint began.

  “It was dishonest.” Ozzy let the words out as a wave of contempt washed over him. “It was cruel, and it was manipulative.”

  “Like I said-” The saint began again, but Ozzy was having none of it.

  “You're a weasel-”

  “How dare you speak to the saint that way!” Ozzy didn't see the hand that struck him. In fact, he didn't see much of anything as his lights like the explosion of a galaxy of stars bloomed across his vision.

  Face struck hard wooden floor with a sickening crack. A second equally brilliant flash moved through Ozzy's vision is one of the bones in his face broke. Pain lancing across his features as a trail of blood made its way down his nose.

  Trying to get up Ozzy placed a hand underneath him. His senses of little use as blood flowed through his mouth and nose, his eyes doing their best to give him drunk vision without any of the pain dulling side effects as he swayed on all fours.

  A foot slammed into Ozzy’s ribs. A second series of cracks rang out, announcing the destruction of his ribs and collapse of his left lung.

  “Alright Marlon, that’s enough. I believe your lesson on respect has been thoroughly worked into our guest. Help him to his feet.” The Saint spoke loud enough for Ozzy to hear through the ringing of his ears, though even then they were lost on him. His mind preoccupied with one thing, and one thing only, rage.

  A hand descended to grip Ozzy by his hair, beginning to hoist him painfully to his feet. Ozzy reached up, latching onto Marlon’s wrist like a vice and pressing down.

  Ozzy wasn’t sure who this guy was or what tier he might be at. So he made sure he used enough juice to close the deal on any price. Mana surged into his palm, and perhaps sensing the incoming attack Marlon jerked back and yet only succeeded in pulling the rapidly growing ball of power closer to his body.

  “Marlon!!!” The Saint shouted, but even he would be too slow to stop the attack.

  BOOM

  The blast at its enhanced power level was nearly deafening. Its’ flash blinding his as his vision was stained black. Ozzy fell to the deck, his hand closing over the empty air where only a moment prior Marlon’s hand had been.

  There was a scream, Ozzy could only just barely hear it over the tinnitus raging in his ears and he knew it was Marlon. A series of heavy stomps announced themselves to Ozzy as he felt them through the floorboards and he rolled. Feeling a heavy thump as a boot landed right where his head had just been.

  Rolling away from an attacker was something Ozzy had once ever managed successfully once before and he wasn’t keen on attempting a second time. Slipping into furry form Ozzy activated powder strike and launched himself up into the air. His injuries made everything feel like it was on fire but the pain was quickly dulled by his abilities his vision and hearing returning to normal and allowing him to take actual stock of the situation.

  Marlon was on the move, chasing him down and leaving a trail of blood. The Saint was watching on with what seemed to be great interest while holding back the rest of his trains crew. Then there was Ozzy, just a rat sailing through the air, but not without intent.

  Ozzy was very purposefully flying directly towards one of the few things aboard the could even the odds. An enhancement emplacement, one that looked notably more powerful than the one aboard his swamp train.

  Landing in the emplacement field Ozzy felt as every nerve in his body reacted violently and painfully to an influx of mana so intense it made getting lit on fire cold in comparison. It was like he’d been magnetically rooted in place, the power of the emplacement forcing a direct and intimate connection with Ozzy’s very soul. He summoned his weapon.

  Ozzy’s revolver might have seemed lackluster compared to some of his new options. That was because it was. Who wanted to swing around a peashooter (arguably one that might be too massive for even an earthly giant like Kentucky Ballistics) when you could be shooting guns that were closer in power to anti-artillery? Definitely not Ozzy. The revolver did have its place though, you didn’t always need overwhelming force to stop a problem, and while it would certainly stop it and whatever was unlucky enough to be standing behind it you wouldn’t be left with much more than a corpse, or several.

  Which was why Ozzy was very deliberate with the summoning of the revolver and ammunition inside of it. Ammunition he was positive wouldn’t kill Marlon despite being empowered by the enhancement emplacement, well, mostly positive.

  Cocking the hammer of the revolver back Ozzy had the weapon up and ready to fire as for the second time during their brief altercation the Saint shouted out, “Marlon!!!”

  BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

  Six, heavily empowered and very hot rubber bullets slammed into Marlon. Ozzy had used a much lighter load of magical powder to keep them less than lethal but the brutal onslaught stopped Marlon’s momentum dead, staggered him, and sent him somersaulting backwards into a silent tangle of limbs.

  Not a sound escaped from the audience of crew and core users as everyone waited with bated breath for Marlon to do anything. Smoke trailed up lazily from the barrel of Ozzy’s revolver and he let the gun itself dissipate into motes of mana as he leaned against the side of the emplacement and waited.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The Saint was the first to move. Treading slowly over to the crumpled pile of Marlon. While Ozzy was sure he wouldn’t be able to harm the Saint he and the tier 4 core user both knew that he was more than capable of killing anyone else on board. Were the Saint to try and attack Ozzy it would only end in the failure of the Saint’s mission and unknown collateral damage for the Saint’s crew.

  Leaning down the Saint held a hand out over his subordinate, supplying the man with a healing spell that could probably have cured an entire earthly town of disease. Groaning rose up from the crumpled man, and he was shortly back to his feet and rearing to go, both hands now present. Marlon took a step forward, only for the Saint to lay a palm on the man’s shoulder, his meaning clear. Ozzy had won.

  “Any more fighting will be met with harsh punishment.” The Saint grit his teeth as he paused, his eyes going wide with anger as he listened to something no one else could hear. Finally continuing after several moments of silence. “Our guest is to be treated as my equal. Any who fail to do so will not answer to myself, but The Lady of Light.” He finished, glaring at Ozzy and pulling a red-faced Marlon back.

  “I tire of these theatrics. Come with me Ozzy, we will discuss business in private.” The Saint waited for no response, turning on his heel and walking gracefully towards the closest stairwell.

  For a moment Ozzy pondered ignoring the Saint’s request. He held some modicum of power standing on the emplacement and would immediately lose it if he stepped off. Not to mention his wounds would immediately flare up again as the period of weakness he’d get leaving the emplacement began. Truthfully, he didn’t have a choice, he’d made a deal back then with the Goddess of Light and even if they had gone and upped the schedule on him he was man of his word. He would at least listen to what the Goddess had to say, and then probably get manipulated by her and forced into servitude if she could manage it. The joys of being him.

  Slipping into his rat form Ozzy bounded off of the enhancement emplacement. The weakness he felt was offset slightly by the abilities healing powers but it still made him want to roll over and take a nap on the top deck. He wished he’d brought Frank along, the company of someone not out to get him would have been worth its weight in mana stones. He had been worried they’d have used the scraggly rat against him, hurting and killing the rat as a way to torment him if he didn’t acquiesce to their every demand, and had encouraged the rodent to stay back.

  In his rat form Ozzy quickly made his way to just behind the Saint. Following the slight man down and into the trains lowest floor. On the firelight districts swamps train the lowest floors were exclusively for storage and occasionally rooms. This train had their bottom floor set up more like a temple. The moment they entered the lower floor the smells of incense and perfume attacked his sensitive rat nose, making him slip back into human form despite his injuries only having mostly healed.

  They were surrounded by lights. Shining crystals were set in wall sconces. Braziers burned with white hot flames. Totems of an angelic woman gave off faint glows. There were candles set randomly about. Most impressive of all however, was a ceiling of stars. Set up on a ceiling of inky blackness were a sea of brilliant white dots, all of them bright enough to cast small specks of light onto the floor and Saint as he passed under them. It was a room that made Ozzy feel as though he’d entered a celebration of all things light and shining, and in a way, he supposed he had.

  Continuing on the Saint guided him to the only seating area available within the room of lights where he sat unceremoniously, gesturing for Ozzy to do the same.

  “You are in one of our most holy of spaces now.” The Saint said, his voice forgoing all of its earlier bluster and show, reducing down to a simple and dignified tone of reverence. “You may not care for me, but I ask that you respect my and my people’s place of worship.”

  Ozzy gave a single nod, not saying anything. Any words he had for the man would probably not have been deemed as respectful.

  It wasn’t much but back on earth Ozzy had at least believed in something. Whether it was some great spirit, God, or something else he wasn’t sure. He’d never gotten much into the weeds of religion despite going to more than few services growing up, his mom had been more than enough believer for both of them. It did mean at least he was willing to consider the sacred nature of this place, if not for him then at least for the people aboard this train.

  When Ozzy didn’t say anything, the Saint nodded in kind. “Thank you.” He spoke in a hushed tone, and rose from his seat, moving quickly as he hurried to leave Ozzy alone in the room.

  Raising a single eyebrow Ozzy gave the place a second look over. It was certainly impressive, though its religious nature and his own non-religious nature made him feel a little uncomfortable with being left alone inside.

  “I see you are not much of a believer.” A voice, pervasive and at the same time gentle reached into his mind, ripping him from consciousness and delivering him to another world.

  ***

  Ozzy awoke on a couch so white it hurt his eyes to look at. Everything around him was brilliant, shining like it was their only purpose in existence. Based on where he guessed himself to be know he supposed that wouldn’t be a totally incorrect assumption.

  “You might want these.” A bright and cheery voice spoke to him, and Ozzy turned to see a woman in a plain white toga with a single polished titanium clasp sitting across from him with a pair of sunglasses held out lazily in front of her.

  Ozzy took the sunglasses, wasting no time in putting them on and taking a deep breath as everything within the world of white was dulled to a manageable level.

  “I must say I’ve been anticipating meeting you since you first arrived on our little planet. You came into this world in such a bright flash, it was impossible for me not to take notice.” She said dreamily, staring off into the distance as if reliving the memory.

  “I wasn’t awake for the flash when I got here, but the one that took me from my world was definitely pretty bright.” Ozzy added, doing his best to partake in the small talk and falling only slightly short.

  The goddess smiled knowingly. “You are a man of clarity, and purpose. Light too travels in a straight line, moving with clear intent towards its destination.” The Goddess said, using a very strange metaphor to try and make Ozzy feel better about something he truly didn’t care about.

  “Right… do you just want to get into it then?” Ozzy asked awkwardly. He wasn’t at all interested in forming a relationship with this god. Small talk would get them nowhere, and if it had any chance of making him feel any sort of sympathy towards her and her cause he doubly wanted to avoid it.

  The Goddess of Light sighed, leaning back into her couch and letting her head loll back into the cushions. “You needn’t be so hostile Ozzy. I am far from being your enemy.”

  “No,” Ozzy agreed, “you’re just someone I can’t trust. Well and trust just happens to be kind of important to me.”

  “It was a necessary discomfort for our cause.” The Goddess defended, still not looking at him as she fiddled with a stray beam of light.

  “How was it necessary?” Ozzy asked. “You couldn’t have just come up and asked to talk?”

  “Your patron would have prevented me. I had to work through an intermediary.” She said.

  “And why couldn’t he have just talked to me?” Ozzy pressed.

  She sighed again, leaning back down to face him. “He was faced with a problem, risk you saying no, or make it so you couldn’t say no. The choice was simple for him, and you were always going to have your friend returned to you.” She said nonchalantly.

  “He wasn’t the only one who died because your Saint didn’t do his job.” Ozzy growled, anger beginning to well up within him once more as he thought of the dozen people that had lost their lives to the hydra’s poison breath attack.

  “For that I apologize, but we could not risk losing you. You are too valuable a player to ignore.” She said. “I do not expect you to fully understand my reasons, but I am certain you understand that Myreluck and its fate is greater than a single person.”

  Frowning Ozzy had to admit that he did believe that. Ideally, he wanted everyone to be happy, though he knew that was far from the way things worked. The path to take Myreluck from the dystopia it was today and set it on the course for something better would be bloody and full of tragedy.

  “I recognize that.” Ozzy said. “I still don’t appreciate the way you went about all of this though. Remulas and Fauga were both very kind and reasonable with me. They didn’t ransom up my friends just to force me to follow or meet them.”

  She nodded her acquiescence. “They are both kinder than one would expect.” She admitted. “Despite that, the Rat is out for himself, and Fauga is a child when it comes to understanding the wars we have been waging. Neither of them holds any true stake in this fight. If you want to actually do something good, you will need my help. You will need to follow me.”