When Basil finished cooking the fried velociraptor bucket, the episode was reaching its midway point.
young Sergeant Chick asked as he held the dying warrior in his arms.
The writers couldnât show blood due to heavy censorship, so only water poured out of Lieutenant Salmonâs wound.
âWhat a wonderful device, this television,â Vasi slurred as she slouched on the sofa, holding a vodka bottle with one hand and scratching Platoâs back with the other. With her messy hair and many grams of alcohol in her system already, the witch was the perfect picture of a professional partygoer. âThe dialogue is corny as fuck.â
âNah, Cornmaster was destroyed two episodes ago,â Shellgirl replied in between beers. Bugsy and Kuikui were the only watchers too fascinated by the episodeâs big twist to drink. Plato purred on his cushion, and Rosemarineâ¦
Basil sighed and glanced at the roomâs open window. One of Rosemarineâs enormous eyes peeked through the frame.
âIâm so sorry,â Basil apologized as he tossed her a crispy velociraptor leg. âI wish I could enlarge the house further.â
âItâs okay, Mister,â Rosemarine replied cheerfully. Her forked tongue caught the piece of meat and swallowed it whole immediately. âI see it all from here!â
She was the only plant in the house to keep up with the series. The rest of House Garden didnât particularly enjoy watching a cartoon about meat lovers beating the ever-loving crap out of vegetables.
âHereâs our savior coming!â Vasi rejoiced as Basil arrived with the food: a salad for Shellgirl and the fried raptor bucket for everyone else. âGot any sauce?â
âCurry and barbecue.â Basil sat between Plato and Bugsy with a satisfied grin. âJust in time for the good part.â
Lieutenant Salmon coughed water.
Well-animated tears dripped from Sergeant Chickâs eyes.
Lieutenant Salmon said, so he wouldnât have to utter the cursed âkilledâ word.
Sergeant Chick closed his eyes in pain and took Lieutenant Salmonâs hand within his talon.
Lieutenant Salmon transformed into particles of protein light flowing into Sergeant Chickâs body.
Sergeant Chick wiped his tears as the lieutenant completely disappeared. The young soldier grunted with rage and sorrow, with lightning crackling in the background. His muscles expanded and his feathers turned a shade of gold. An epic bass rock music played as the sergeant roared to the skies.
Sergeant Chick shouted as loud as his lungs would allow, sending rocks flying with the sheer power of his voice.
âHeâs going Superbuff Musclemode!â Bugsy gasped. âI thought only Major Chicken could transform?!â
âCan Kui do that, too?â Kuikui asked, mesmerized by the scene. âKui must eat protein!â
Basil pointed at tonightâs dinner. The hungry velociraptor hungrily tried to commit cannibalism by seizing a fried wing, but fell into the bucket instead.
âHey, leave some for the others!â Plato immediately leaped from his cushion and tried to pull Kuikui out of the bucket. âYou stupid halfbreed bird!â
âNo racism under this roof, Plato,â Basil said as he unstored from his inventory. â
marathons are a moment of peace and tolerance.â
âPut that book away,â Vasi chided him. âDidnât we study enough today?â
Basil wasnât sure if he could call testing alien holographic games studying. After growing sick of listening to Wyrdeâs dragon suprematist rhetoric, the duo had tested the eighteen other hologames inherited from Steamslime.
Almost all of them were dating sims. The uncensored kind.
Basil had considered playing them to better understand the Unityâs culture, but set the games aside when the porn-level dialogue became too much for him. Some of the lines would haunt him for the rest of his days.
Basil shuddered at the mere thought of playing thoseâ¦those torture devices again. He had no idea Steamslime was so depraved.
There was a silver lining to the testing phase though; one of the games, , was a crafting simulator in the same vein as . Basil could learn a few recipes from it.
âItâs okay, theyâll spend ten minutes shit-talking each other and having flashbacks before fighting,â Basil replied. The fight in question was one of the cartoonâs best, so he would afford it his full attention once it began. âIâve got time to read.â
âYo, Partner, that makes me think.â Shellgirl chewed a cabbage leaf and swallowed it whole. âI gave Orcdad and Orcmom the thunderbird feathers and ankylosaurus hide. They said they would have your new Berserker cloth ready by tomorrow.â
Basil grinned ear to ear. Soon, he wouldnât have to fear the lightning ever again. He was even happier to notice a âTrimurtiâ chapter in his bookâs summary. Plato had chosen well.
Basil read, Each member of the Trimurti had their own section in the chapter, although Brahmaâs part was considerably smaller than the other two. Vishnu and Shiva had clearly eclipsed their partner in importance in India. Even his goddess-consort Saraswati enjoyed more pages dedicated to her.
Basil thought. Vishnuâs part was a lot more extensively detailed and his chapter included drawings. The god was represented in the book as a blue-skinned, regal humanoid with four arms. His hands held a golden disc, a lotus, a mace, and a conch shell of all things. The last part reminded Basil of Kalki.
He flipped to the next page without thinking too much of itâ¦and froze in shock.
The book included another picture of Vishnu, one that Basil found eerily familiar. The god was depicted as playing flute on the back of a many-headed serpent, with a half-bird humanoid guarding him. The memory of Kalki playing to an audience of monsters flashed in Basilâs mind.
Lord Quinoa taunted Sergeant Chick and Major Chicken.
Sergeant Chick replied.
Major Chicken declared with patriotic pride.
The cartoon faded into the background like a droning noise. Basil focused too much on the picture to pay attention to his surroundings. It had to be a coincidenceâ¦
Spurred on by an irresistible gut feeling, Basil all but devoured the information on Vishnu.
he read.
The book included the list of Vishnuâs avatars according to competing scriptures. Matsya, Rama, Krishnaâ¦and the very last of them.
âKalki,â Basil whispered.
âWhat did you say, Boss?â Bugsy asked. The centimagma glanced at his leader with concern. âAre you all right? You look pale.â
âIâmâ¦Iâm all right, Bugsy.â A lie. The more Basil read, the more uncertain he felt about the future.
.
Basil remembered Kalkiâs words. How he woke up feeling he was in the wrong place at the wrong time; how he was looking for his girlfriend Padma, even if he couldnât remember what she looked like; and how he smelled of lotus according to Platoâ¦
Basil summoned another item from his inventory. Kalkiâs conch shell gift materialized in his hand, as light as a feather and warm to the touch. Basil compared the Sanskrit symbols to those listed in the book.
They matched those in Vishnuâs chapter a little too well.
âFuck.â Basil stored both his book and shell in his inventory before bolting out of the sofa.
âWhere are you going, Partner?â Shellgirl asked. Vasi looked over her shoulder at Basil, clearly worried for his well-being. âYouâll miss the big fight!â
âI watched it at least five times already,â Basil replied as he hurriedly moved to the empty garage. Once inside, he summoned his campervan from the inventory, opened the front door, and immediately activated the military radio on the driverâs seat. The device thrummed upon activation.
âNeria, I need to talk to you.â Basil activated the emergency communication procedure as Officer Elissalde taught him. This particular signal was to be reserved only for extreme case situations. âI know itâs late, but it canât wait.â
Only static came out of the radio. Basil waited for seconds, then minutes. His frustration turned to worry.
Basil hadnât actually expected Neria to answer immediately, not so late into the evening. She had other duties to attend to. However, should have picked up the emergency call. The signal was to be rerouted to another radio officer in Bordeauxâs forces so the intel could travel up the chain of command.
Yet as nobody answered Basilâs call, he wondered if something happened in the city.
âNeria? Officer Elissalde? Is anybody there?â Basil grit his teeth as his questions were met with nothing more than static noise. âGoddammit, this is urgent! Worldshaking!â
âBasil, whatâs happening?â Basil looked over his shoulder to find Plato staring back at him. âIâve never heard you getting bored of a Major Chicken episode and youâre acting weird lately.â
Basil set aside the radio and gathered his breath. How should he put it?
âI think I know who Kalki is,â he explained. âAnd he might help us return the world to normal.â
âI knew the guy was more than he looked,â Plato replied with a nod. âSo, who is he?â
âAn Hindu god with Alzheimerâs and one of the Trimurti.â
Plato took in the news with surprising calm. He locked eyes with his owner, wagged his tail, and finally sighed in disappointment.
âI wonât lie,â he said, âwhen you said god, I expected a giant cat.â
âCanât confirm his identity yet, but there are far too many coincidences.â Basil considered his options and quickly reached a decision. âPack your things, weâll travel to Bordeaux at dawn to track him down.â
âWhat?â Plato jumped in place. âDidnât you want to scout the Apocalypse Forceâs dungeon tomorrow?â
âI know what I promised Vasi, but this canât wait,â Basil replied. Helping his new flatmate become stronger paled before the possibility of meeting a member of the Trimurti. Neither did he enjoy leaving the house behind, but the stakes were simply too great. âItâs too important and our friends in Bordeaux wonât answer my call.â
Plato tensed. âYou think something happened to the dog sisters?â
âMaybe.â A visit from an amnesiac god was never a banal occurrence. âWe need to check.â
âI can say goodbye to my peaceful autumn and quiet winter, can I?â Plato complained. âFine, Iâll inform the others.â
The house trembled as Rosemarine howled outside its walls. âMister, Mister!â
âWhat is it, Rosemarine?â Basil shouted back.
âLights, Mister!â Rosemarine replied joyfully. âBeautiful lights everywhere!â
Basil rushed outside the house with a terrible gut feeling and Plato at his heel. The new moon was almost invisible in the night sky and the cold wind carried the smell of burning wood. Basil found Rosemarine curled in the garden with the rest of the vegetables, all of them looking at the skies.
The west was ablaze.
Basil watched in horrified silence as the light of fires illuminated the horizon. Columns of smoke rose to the heavens above and obscured the stars. The wind carried warm ash all the way to the stream. The partyâs livestock screeched in fear in their coops and hutches.
âBeautiful,â Ghostie Pumpkin whispered. The rest of House Garden watched the scene with big, impressed eyes. Basil had to admit the sight was both beautiful and terrifying in equal measures. It appeared as if someone had lit candles as far as the eye could see.
âMister, are the trees evolving, too?â Rosemarine asked naïvely. âLike me?â
To Basilâs horror, her idea no longer sounded so mad. He had grown used to such weirdness by now.
âWhatâs going on?â Vasi and the rest of the party emerged from the house in confusion. The witch blinked at the sight of the burning horizon. âMy gods.â
âShould we evacuate, Partner?â Shellgirl asked with a worried tone. âFire and I donât mix.â
âNo need for that yet,â Basil replied. They would pump water from the stream if the fire reached the house. With Rosemarineâs size and Shellgirlâs own ice attacks, they shouldnât fear anything.
Something felt wrong about this scenario. The Barthes were a marshland ecosystem, wet and moist, full of streams and ponds. A fire shouldnât spread so quickly, especially without a thunderstorm.
âWhat an odd scentâ¦â Plato smelled the wind. âYo, dog, do you notice it, too?â
Basil inhaled sharply and grit his teeth upon recognizing the detestable smell of white phosphorus.
This fire was artificial.
âBugsy, use your Tremorsense,â Basil ordered. His halberd materialized in his hands. âDo you notice anything?â
âI hear explosions in the distance, east and west,â Bugsy replied, his antennae touching the ground. The centimagmaâs eyes widened in shock. âBoss, I sense something in the earth too and a droning noise coming toward us!â
âI hear it, too.â Plato hissed and unsheathed his sword. âHornets!â
Basil guessed with a frown. He he would regret letting one of their drones escape. A quick glance at the east side of the marshes confirmed the presence of fires in that direction as well.
âDid they mistake France for Vietnam?â Basil grunted. He didnât like the situation at all. The gearsmen had already wandered far too close to his home for his liking in the past. âEveryone, prepare for battle.â
âDo you have a plan?â Vasi asked him. âWe canât see them through the smoke.â
âPartner, my customers live on the other shore!â Shellgirl pointed at the fires in the east. âTheyâre in danger, too!â
âThey can take care of themselves,â Basil replied. Protecting their home was the teamâs priority; everyone else would wait. âWeâll split into two groups andââ
A buzzing noise echoed across the marshes, interrupting him. Basil looked up at the western fires and realized his plans would die in the cradle.
A swarm of a hundred Megabugs flew out of the smoke rising from the horizon. The flames below reflected on their green exoskeletons and flapping wings. Most of the bugs were unarmed, but a few carried small spheres with fuses. Basil felt a terrible chill travel down his spine when he recognized the items in question. After all, he had designed a few of them himself.
White phosphorus bombs.
âShoot them down!â Basil ordered his party. The swarm was flying straight in their direction. âShoot them down! Donât let them reach us!â
Shellgirl opened fire first with her ice pearls. Bugsy assisted her with his firebreath, Kuikui with lightning bolts, Vasi snapped her fingers to cast a fireball spell, and Plato used his Wind Slash technique. House Gardenâs Demon Tomato assisted with tiny fireballs unlikely to do any damage.
The volley of projectiles shot down insects from the skies; some were killed instantly, their explosive payload bursting into fiery blasts. But most of the swarm gained ground on the party.
âMister, I canât charge!â Rosemarine complained. A few shining particles appeared around her petals, but not enough to light them up. âNot enough sunshine!â
Argh, Rosemarineâs Perks had changed after her metamorphosis and Basil didnât have the time to check how they had been altered! He checked her status screen for the Seed Decoy upgrade in case he could exploit it.
: 60 SP, [Life], [Fire], [Wood]. Rosemarine can spawn a Fire Seed level 2 Monster from her body. Fire Seeds are weak creatures who can self-detonate on impact to inflict [Fire] damage. Rosemarine cannot use Fire Seed if she suffers from a Body Ailment.
If anything, Basil considered it a downgrade compared to her duplication power. âRosemarine, summon Fireseeds and throw them atââ
An explosion rocked the garden before he could finish his sentence.
The party gave their all, but most of the swarm managed to reach their position. The bugs flew above their heads and dropped their bombs. A white phosphorus blast sent Basil reeling backward. A flash of bright light blinded him for a few seconds and Rosemarineâs howl of pain echoed in his ears.
When Basil regained his eyesight, he wished he never did. For the scene unfolding before him was his worst nightmare made reality.
The house was on fire.
A bomb had blown up the roof to smithereens and set the upper floor on fire. Flames incinerated Vasiâs guest room and collapsed part of the facade the party had so lovingly crafted. The windows had shattered from the blast, their shards laying on the dry grass outside. White phosphorus dripped from the kitchenâs walls, ravaging stone and steel alike.
The sound of the framework collapsing paled before the screams of his livestock. One of the bombs had hit the rabbitsâ hutch, blasting half of its inhabitants to bloody pieces and setting fire to the rest. A horned hare ran to the water stream in desperate agony as white phosphorus burned his fur and flesh. The blast had also broken the coop open, letting the panicked hens run away.
Rosemarine too received a few projectiles. Her leaf-scales protected her from the brunt of the flames, but a few spots of fiery slime burned all across her back. House Garden desperately tried to water the melting greenhouse with tools Basil had left behind, to no avail. Flames were already spreading to the partyâs crops and turning them to ash.
For a few seconds, Basil simply couldnât move. He was paralyzed, a prisoner of his own body. He could only watch as Old Man Renéâs last memento, the holy ground entrusted to his care, the place he had called his home, burned before his eyes.
Basilâs hands tightened so hard on his halberdâs shaft that he felt blood dripping from his fingers. He looked up at the treacherous bugs above his head. The swarm stared back at him, its members diving down from the skies to finish him off. The ground shook beneath Basilâs feet and yet he felt no fear.
A fire hotter than white phosphorus burned inside his heart.
A blaze of unyielding rage!