Hector fred his aura to block a tentacle trying to wrap around his head. Much like he’d done with the dirty cops, the squid monster wanted to smash his skull in. Failing that, it wanted to twist his head off or suffocate him.

  A sword of cartoon proportions sliced the creature in half.

  “Nice one, Rod!”

  They had discovered their optimal strategy. Instead of wasting energy using his domain, Hector defended with his aura. While the monsters failed to kill him, Rodrick cut them down. It worked surprisingly well, cost very little energy from Hector, and earned them quite a bit of attention form the media.

  Rodrick loved his enhanced restoration rate. Not only were their brutal battles popur, Rod’s recent interview had him come clean about losing a sworn brother in battle. He made a heartfelt – if false – admission that he’d struggled with the grieving process. That he worried he’d lose one of his friends, but knew they couldn’t stop because of how many people were depending on them.

  The public ate it up. Especially when he said that it was nice working with a Xian since they were so durable. One of the police officers tasked with keeping others away from the war zone knocked on their door and asked them to sign a poster that had the two of them standing back to back with their arms crossed. Big letters up top procimed ‘Bait and Brute’. Hector was pretty sure he was the ‘bait’ to Rodrick’s ‘brute’.

  Confgration eventually warmed to Hector. Meaning he used Hector’s name, no longer directed scowls his direction, and once offered him what was left of a steak that none of the other Arahants wanted. It was progress. The Sage had very little to do with any of them. When Hector asked how he spent his time alone, the man answered simply ‘comprehending fire’.

  As the wave of squid died out, they gathered together along the beach to socialize while waiting in case any stragglers came ashore. Confgration flicked a spark onto a piece of driftwood and stared at it in absolute fascination while the other Arahant pnned for the upcoming Q&A in front of a live studio audience.

  Hector really did not want to talk about that. They’d rehearsed so many times. Everything about their public appearances was scripted. At least outside of the battles. “You know,” he broke into the marketing speak, “I always thought Arahants were mystics who meditated all day.”

  “We can’t all be like the Sage,” Machi said.

  Zelda sighed. “Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to gain an insight into fire for a decade and I’m still not as studious as the guy who already has it. I wish I knew what he was seeing in the fmes. Do you do anything to deepen your insight, Hector?”

  “Deepen my insight?” He’d never even realized such a thing was possible. Maybe it wasn’t for him. It was the insight of another man, after all. He’d inherited it, but his senses weren’t anywhere near precise enough to see the things that inspired Volithur in the first pce.

  “Sounds like a ‘no’,” Rodrick interpreted.

  “Anyway, are you ready to py your part at the Q&A, Hector?”

  “Yes, Vivian, I’m ready to die of shame.”

  “Don’t act like I’m hideous,” she snapped.

  “You’re not hideous. You’re too young and too shallow.”

  Vivian quirked an eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. Eighteen?”

  “Double that and add four.” Vivian pinched an inch of flesh from her forearm. “The physical form of an Arahant becomes closer to their ideal as they progress. And I don’t want to look old.”

  Hector blinked a couple of times. “What level are you?”

  “You can’t tell?”

  “It’s harder for Xian to see souls,” Rodrick said. “The answer is six. We’re all level six except for Confgration, who is at eleven.”

  “Anyway,” Zelda interrupted, “we need to hit our marks with the seat switching.”

  “Now that you know I’m not a child, make sure you don’t hold back,” Vivian added.

  They left the beach after an hour of inactivity. The current monster wave was over. There were different ways that miasma could enter a world. The most serious of these was the tearing of dimensional rents to admit rge quantities all at once. That was what Earth faced in Evelyn’s visions.

  A more common occurrence was what happened on this world. Miasma diffused through the dimensional membrane at a slow, steady rate. That typically caused single variety monster hordes, as they tended to follow the same tempte as their predecessors. The squid monster numbers steadily grew, then at a critical mass would begin looking for victims. Some Arahant mental manipution made the beach look like the best way to go, funneling the attacks to ground of their choosing.

  As they ate fried chicken, Zelda stressed over wardrobe and makeup. Hector insisted he would not be painting his face. Zelda insisted otherwise. In the end they compromised and Hector wore makeup…. The application was not so obvious as he’d feared, at least. A little bit of eye liner and some foundation to hide age lines. Zelda also took tweezers to his brow and even trimmed nose hairs. He eventually stopped the torture by decring he would refuse to join the Q&A if she did anything else. His threat must have been credible because she instantly capituted.

  The others cleaned up just as much, turning the house into chaos. The results, though, were something else. Machi, always strangely pretty for a man, had crossed over the line into pure androgyny. Zelda was a petite blonde fairy dream. Vivian looked like the girl next door from a teen movie who’d transformed herself into an absolute goddess for the prom scene. Rodrick looked like an utter specimen – shoulder pads and exquisite tailoring giving the visceral impression of a V taper physique through his clothing.

  Perhaps it was uncharitable, but Hector couldn’t help but compare himself to Rodrick. Them both being a certain type of man, they’d each spent time walking around the house without a shirt. Hector had the more ideal shoulder to hip ratio. Yet the script called for Rodrick to be the ‘good body’ guy, so Hector wore baggy shirts that hid everything except his muscur arms. A lifetime spent in the gym and out of the kitchen got him cast as the ‘sorta fit’ guy. He knew it shouldn’t bother him. It did.

  They rode to their destination on a bus, leaving Confgration behind to watch the beach. Their leader could handle as many squids as the ocean could throw at him if he decided to spend illusory energy freely instead of in his miserly fashion. The four other Arahants were the ones who needed to make the side trip to this world. Their reserves had been drawn down to dangerous levels, requiring them to either return to Maya for a time or visit a world where they could bedazzle a naive unempowered popution.

  “Does your world have motor carriages?” The question was from Zelda. They were acting already, even if only for the benefit of their driver and the attendant.

  “Yes. We just call them cars. My world is more aligned with the Jinn than anything.”

  “Most unempowered worlds have a heavy Jinn influence,” Rodrick said. “There are just so many of them on Terra. Not just on the pnet, either. They have people living in artificial moons in their sky.”

  “Are you educated in the operation of carriages?”

  “Yes, Zelda. I can drive a car. Every kid where I come from learns how when they turn sixteen.”

  “You should drive this one.”

  “That’s a terrible idea. I don’t know how to get to our destination and I’m not clear on the rules of the road here.” Hector struggled to know what was acting and what was honest when they interacted within view of the public. He wasn’t the artsy type. Nor was he comfortable with deception. He tended towards direct communication. Years of memories crammed into his head granted him the knowledge to hide behind politeness and societal convention, but that wasn’t the same as becoming a social chameleon.

  They reached their destination and entered a film studio from a rear entrance. Everyone took a bathroom break, sipped at the provided carbonated water, and let Zelda fuss over their appearance.

  Then it was time. The two dies went out onto the stage first, receiving loud cheers. Then Machi followed and Hector had to cover his ears out of concern for his ability to hear. He really wished that he could get started on his body enhancement. Rodrick went next to another round of cpping. And Hector waited.

  “Why am I going along with this?” No one was there to hear the question.

  On the stage the reporter Robert was asking about Hector. The Arahant were admitting that their friend was nervous about a live audience. Rod announced he’d handle the problem and jogged back to where Hector stood out of view.

  “This makes me look like an idiot,” he told his friend.

  “What do you care what these dummies think? You’re making me look like a solid bro.” Rodrick smacked Hector on the shoulder and dragged him onto the stage where the others were standing in front of a row of stools and waving to the happy audience.

  It was like clips Hector remembered of people seeing Elvis or the Beatles live. These people were going absolutely nuts. They grew even more intense when he joined them on stage. Hector ducked his head and waved awkwardly. Pretending to be awkward when he was naturally uncomfortable with the situation gave him a vivid fshback to the one and only time he went to css high in college. That was not a fond memory.

  Robert gestured for them to take their seats and the game they’d rehearsed so often began.

  In their pnning, the seats were numbered one through five, with one being closest to the reporter and five being furthest away. Zelda took seat two. Vivian took seat four. The pattern they followed throughout the entirety of the love triangle was for Machi to sit between the two dies. Not today.

  Hector plopped down in the center seat, giving his best impression of being clueless of the status quo he just disrupted in egregious fashion. The studio grew hushed at his action. Machi sat in seat one, right beside their host. Rodrick settled into seat five.

  Part one successfully completed.

  Zelda then leaned in Hector’s direction and reached over to squeeze his hand in a comforting fashion. She even whispered a couple of words of encouragement in case there were lip readers. It amounted to ‘you can do this’.

  Then, before Robert could begin moderating, Vivian abruptly stood, toppling her stool over. She managed to catch it before it could ctter to the ground. All eyes on her, she bullied Rodrick into switching spots with her.

  Their lineup was now Machi, Zelda, Hector, Rodrick, and Vivian on the end.

  Robert tilted his head in concern as he spoke into his microphone. “Are we all settled now?”

  Zelda managed to look positively adorable as she covered up her manufactured concern. “I think we’re ready to get started, Robert. I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re so happy to get a chance to interact with our supporters. We came to your world because a battle had to be fought, but we found such a welcoming people. This experience has been the highlight of my entire life. Thank you all for opening your world and your hearts to us.”

  “You know, Zelda,” Robert began, “it’s easy for us to think fondly of the people who saved our pnet. It’s no small thing all of you have done for us.”

  Then they opened the floor up to questions from members of the audience.