The Gamer Chapter 1040 – By the Lakes 1 – Making their way (Patreon)
Content
“God, I’m busy these days,” John mumbled, first thing in the morning, immediately realizing what today was and where he had to go. “You all ready?” he asked into the room. He was, as the writhing of kissing and cuddling on the bed proved, the last person to wake up. A pair of lips, Nia’s judging by the skill and the particular anti-tingle involved, was tending to his morning wood.
A cool kiss on his cheek answered him. “Twenty minutes,” Undine whispered, before shifting her form around so she could sit on his face.
Twenty minutes of fucking, thirty minutes of breakfast and ten minutes of, for once, purely regular showering later, they were heading out of their apartment. They were scheduled to arrive in the Lake Alliance in the afternoon, so they had, in theory, more than enough time. It was a theory because flights were always susceptible to problems.
“We really need that private plane,” John complained, while they walked through the corridors. “Aclysia, how are you on the license?”
“I am ready to acquire it whenever I get the necessary free time to go through the practice hours,” the weaponized maid told him. Being the first servant of state and cleaning lady for the harem meant that she had fairly little free time, even with the need for sleep removed. Taking flight classes would take at least a couple of hours out of several days.
“Right and we need to set up all of the surrounding infrastructure as well,” John sighed. It wasn’t as if they could just buy a plane and that was that. Either they would have to deal with all of the regulations that went into flying beyond the permission of Aclysia sitting in the cockpit, or they would have to put together their own airports and operate the plane using Mobile Barriers. John tended towards the latter, because he really didn’t feel like dealing with a higher authority. As it stood, he didn’t have either option, only the public one.
‘Public’ in quotation marks, as the seats and privileges his money could buy him were not exactly attainable for the average person. Especially not after Scarlett made it so they were part of a registry of CEOs and other VIPs that got waved through the booking process with most of the usual barriers and annoyances removed.
There was one last stop before they left the Palace through the teleporters though. A door, not immediately different from the other ones along the hallways, except for the fact that it was slightly ajar. John gave it a little tap and the door swung inwards, then he walked inside.
Eliza’s apartment was in an even worse state than he was used to. Previously, the entirety of the room’s furniture had been piled up in front of the windows, which had their blackout curtains closed. Now that furniture was smashed and torn apart, save for a small spot of intact couch on which the goddess of genocide sat, legs pulled against her chest and head on her knees.
Slightly alarmed, John turned to the opposite wall and let out a sigh of relief when Eliza’s masterpiece was still intact. The collage of several dozen paintings of various sizes, placed next to and layered on top of each other, depicted the pretty little psycho’s history and memories in a way more intimate than a retelling could ever be. The arrangement and details of the pictures had changed since he last had seen it, adjusted with thick oil paint, but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. This was Eliza’s artwork for herself. John guessed that it was therapeutic for her to work on it. If she wanted to share it, that was her call. The Gamer just wanted to make sure Thana didn’t tear it apart.
Similarly, he couldn’t leave the goddess on her own while he was gone.
“Thana?” John asked. “Hello? You there?” While he did not receive an answer, she shifted slightly in her posture. “Aclysia told you we were heading out yesterday, are you ready?” The question was rhetorical. Thana had bothered to put on mundanely appropriate clothes, which was all the indication John needed she was willing to come along. Still, she refused to do as much as raise her head.
The Gamer scratched the back of his head. Either he could chastise her for ignoring him or he could be sweet to her and try to goad her out of her shell. With the state she was in, the latter felt like it would be more successful. He had given Thana plenty of the stick in the past, showing her that being part of humanity came with its own pleasures was the way forward. Tactical approach aside, her humanity came from melding with Eliza and pampering Eliza almost always had straightforward results.
Two firm steps and a couple other movements later, John had the goddess of genocide in a princess carry. ‘Not a way I would have ever thought anything in my life could be described,’ the Gamer chuckled to himself, while smiling at Thana. She returned his gaze with a slight blush. “Ready to talk to me now?”
“You can just leave me here,” Thana told him, even as he turned around with her. “I’ll wait until the parasite comes back.”
“What if I don’t want that?” John asked, causing the goddess to furrow her eyebrows. “I mean, I certainly want my Eliza back, don’t get me wrong there, but I don’t want you to crawl back into your shell either.”
“You just want to hasten the final melding,” the woman in his arms growled.
“And what is wrong with that?” the Gamer asked. “We both know you can’t go back, and where you are is causing both you and Eliza distress. In this case, what I want is also the best for you.” Parallel to his words, John kept close tabs on the updating Observe window. Thana’s once absolute hatred of him had diminished to a ‘mere’ -100. “I told you this before: I don’t get any pleasure out of watching you suffer or be depressed. I did what I had to do because what you were was impossible to unite with what I want from the world. You are not that any longer. As goddess of genocide, you failed.”
“I know that…” Thana sounded weak and tired, she even clawed into John’s shirt with one hand. Her relationship score jumped uncontrollably between -200 and 0; what she had been and what she was going to be constantly clashing. “The goddess of genocide is what I came into existence as though. What else can I be? Human?!” She cackled and wretched at the suggestion.
“Yourself,” John told her and shrugged, making her small body bounce in his arms. “You are a human goddess, like it or not, and you failed as the latter. Let go of your prejudice. You will find that being a human isn’t that bad.” Bowing down, he stopped with their faces only centimetres apart. Her purple eyes were beautiful, the iris fragmented like shattered glass. The golden dots and lines inside rotated slowly. “After all, we are the species that invented kisses and chocolate.”
“Why would I care for either of those?”
“Because you are a gorgeous sweet tooth,” John told her. He felt Thana’s blush return more than he saw it, the heat radiating from her face was intense. For a moment, her relationship score ticked into the positive. John would have gone with his instincts whether or not he knew of that number, leaning in the rest of the way to kiss the goddess.
Freezing up, Thana didn’t offer any reciprocation of the kiss. It was an innocent, inexperienced touching of two pairs of lips. All John could do was hold the pose for a couple of seconds and then pull back. Thana’s score remained in the low tens for several seconds, spiked at +100 for a split second, and then collapsed all the way back to -100.
John was somewhat prepared for Thana to force herself out of the princess carry and then kick him in the chest. He was way too slow to dodge, but the attempt alone made the hit shallow enough that Particle Skin could take the damage. Growling, Thana tried to follow up with a punch. Her arm was caught by the other goddess in the room.
“Know your place,” Nathalia warned.
“Wanna lose your fucking jaw again?!” Thana screamed and laughed erratically. “You’d be more useful with an open throat anyway, you convenience hole!” Silence suddenly filled the room as Thana’s cackling stopped with the slamming shut of her mouth. She glared at Nathalia for several seconds, then yanked her hand free and started stomping towards the door. “Just take me where you want to go,” she said in her normal, wolfish tone.
“Alright,” John agreed. He had gotten a pretty solid view of Eliza-esque behaviour there. Pushing the envelope any further would have only upset the goddess further. Regardless, he had to say one more thing. “Just to make this clear, unless it looks like I’m sure to die, you cannot fight on Lake Alliance territory.” Thana just rolled her eyes, while he turned to Nathalia. “That goes for you as well.”
“I’m not your patron god,” the dragoness protested.
“I don’t think the Overseers will allow that kind of technicality to fly,” the Gamer told her. “Better not to risk it… unless I would die otherwise. I’d rather deal with the aftermath than be dead.”
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The flight was pretty boring and smooth. They landed on Niagara Falls airport, took a tourist bus to the actual site, and once there killed a couple of hours looking around the place. Although mundane, John enjoyed the sights and typical tourist traps. It was nice to just have a couple of hours to relax, even if it was quite cold because of the season.
Eventually, the agreed time came and John stood on the agreed spot. On the dot, he was approached by a middle-aged man. Grey streaks ran through his thoroughly combed, medium-length hair. A stubby beard covered his square jaw and complimented the wrinkles on his face to give the well-built man the feeling of a grizzled police veteran. The suit he wore only complimented that feeling, black with a golden tie over a white shirt.
“I’m sorry, I honestly don’t know how to address you,” John greeted Emrik with a handshake.
“Representative will do, for these talks,” the older man responded, his grip firm and quick to retreat after the shake was completed. “If you would follow me,” he said and raised his hand. He vanished, John mimicked the gesture, and found himself in a different version of the same landscape.
A large complex fashioned primarily from grey and blue stone surrounded them. The architecture had a distinct style, which John would have described as typically Atlantean. While there was a lack of sea-animal iconography around, the amount of flowing water and smooth shapes used in the buildings left the same impression as presentations of the legendary sunken city often did.
John and his harem stood before a large pillar of smooth, red and black granite, its surface covered by a steady stream of water that bubbled from the top. The pillar fed into a system of narrow trenches, which separated herbal patches from the walls of the building that enclosed the circular courtyard. Blue tiles marked the borders of the broad walkways.
Between John and the apparent main entrance of the building, a large gate made from metal, stood two rows of uniformed soldiers. In unison, they saluted, then parted to leave the way open. Behind them stood a crowd of the Lake Alliance’s most influential people. While the majority of the gazes met John with either mild approval or neutrality, a couple were openly hostile.
Raising his hand, he gave the friendly smile and wave routine, while he proceeded towards the building. The gate opened with impeccable timing, allowing them to step into a crystal-decorated main hall. The ceiling was over twenty metres high. Strictly adhering to the design philosophy, the ‘stairs’ that rose along the walls had no steps. They were simply slanted paths, their surface porous like cooled down volcanic rock. With the waterfalls among the walls, that was pretty important to prevent everything from becoming a slipping hazard.
“Beautiful,” John said freely.
Emrik responded only after the doors had closed behind him, “I would give your regards to the architect, but he died during our attack on the Hudson Barrier.”
“Lakamun, I take it?” John asked. The demi-god had been the effective leader of the Lake Alliance and by far their most powerful combatant. Given the amount of volcanic materials used in this building and Lakamun’s volcanic powers, the connection was easily made. “I would be lying if I said that I regarded his death as a tragedy.”
“He led an attack and was killed on the battlefield,” Emrik responded.
“It is sad about his architectural talent though,” John sighed.
“The loss has hit many hard, which is the largest reason why people have animosity towards you,” Emrik stated plainly. “Many more don’t care though. It wasn’t as if Lakamun was an excessively popular figure with the common folk.” The representative waved and started walking. “If you would follow me, we planned to quarter you in the west wing.”
“Is it your best quarters?” John asked.
“No,” Emrik said. “They are the best in terms of noise isolation and impressive enough to pass as a friendly welcome.”
“Sounds like they have been wisely picked then.” John smiled.