Apocalypse Tamer

When Basil finished cooking the fried velociraptor bucket, the Major Chicken episode was reaching its midway point.

“Lieutenant Salmon, why?” young Sergeant Chick asked as he held the dying warrior in his arms. “Why did you save me? I thought you had betrayed the Meat Brigade?”

“I was only pretending to switch sides… so I could figure out Emperor Vegan’s master plan.” The Major Chicken writers couldn’t show blood due to heavy censorship, so only water poured out of Lieutenant Salmon’s wound. “No matter what Emperor Vegan pretends, Major Chicken was right… fish is still meat. Red or white, skin or scales… we’re all meat inside.”

“What a wonderful device, this television,” Vasi slurred as she slouched on the sofa, holding a vodka bottle with one hand and scratching Plato’s 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. “The dialogue is corny as fuck.”

“Nah, Cornmaster was destroyed two episodes ago,” Shellgirl replied in between beers. Bugsy and Kuikui were the only watchers too fascinated by the episode’s big twist to drink. Plato purred on his cushion, and Rosemarine…

Basil sighed and glanced at the room’s open window. One of Rosemarine’s enormous eyes peeked through the frame.

“I’m so sorry,” Basil apologized as he tossed her a crispy velociraptor leg. “I wish I could enlarge the house further.”

“It’s okay, Mister,” Rosemarine replied cheerfully. Her forked tongue caught the piece of meat and swallowed it whole immediately. “I see it all from here!”

She was the only plant in the house to keep up with the series. The rest of House Garden didn’t particularly enjoy watching a cartoon about meat lovers beating the ever-loving crap out of vegetables.

“Here’s our savior coming!” Vasi rejoiced as Basil arrived with the food: a salad for Shellgirl and the fried raptor bucket for everyone else. “Got any sauce?”

“Curry and barbecue.” Basil sat between Plato and Bugsy with a satisfied grin. “Just in time for the good part.”

“I tried to defeat Lord Quinoa and I… I failed.” Lieutenant Salmon coughed water. “You must take my protein energy and team up with Major Chicken to defeat Lord Quinoa. It’s the only way you’ll defeat this weedsucker, Chick.”

“But if I do that…” Well-animated tears dripped from Sergeant Chick’s eyes. “You will…”

“I’ll be destroyed,” Lieutenant Salmon said, so he wouldn’t have to utter the cursed ‘killed’ word. “But I’ll pay the price… so that you may live.”

Sergeant Chick closed his eyes in pain and took Lieutenant Salmon’s hand within his talon. “We’ll win… we’ll defeat the Vegan Empire, Lieutenant Salmon. I promise.”

“Don’t cry, soldier. I know… you can do it…” Lieutenant Salmon transformed into particles of protein light flowing into Sergeant Chick’s body. “Tell Major Chicken… that he was right.”

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.

“QUINOA!” Sergeant Chick shouted as loud as his lungs would allow, sending rocks flying with the sheer power of his voice.

“He’s going Superbuff Musclemode!” Bugsy gasped. “I thought only Major Chicken could transform?!”

“Can Kui do that too?” Kuikui asked, mesmerized by the scene. “Kui must eat protein!”

Basil pointed at tonight’s dinner. The hungry velociraptor hungrily tried to commit cannibalism by seizing a fried wing, but fell into the bucket instead.

“Hey, leave some for the others!” Plato immediately leaped from his cushion and tried to pull Kuikui out of the bucket. “You stupid halfbreed bird!”

“No racism under this roof, Plato,” Basil said as he unstored A Short Introduction to the Veda and Hindu Religions from his inventory. “Major Chicken marathons are a moment of peace and tolerance.”

“Put that book away,” Vasi chided him. “Didn’t we study enough today?”

Basil wasn’t sure if he could call testing alien holographic games studying. After growing sick of listening to Wyrde’s 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 Unity’s 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.

‘I want your eggs in me, master! I’m gonna hoard your seed, master!’ Basil shuddered at the mere thought of playing those… 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, Crafting Factory X, was a crafting simulator in the same vein as Wyrde’s Grimoire. Basil could learn a few recipes from it.

“It’s okay, they’ll spend ten minutes shit-talking each other and having flashbacks before fighting,” Basil replied. The fight in question was one of the cartoon’s best, so he would afford it his full attention once it began. “I’ve got time to read.”

“Yo, Partner, that makes me think.” Shellgirl chewed a cabbage leaf and swallowed it whole. “I gave Orcdad and Orcmom the thunderbird feathers and ankylosaurus hide. They said they would have your new Berserker cloth ready by tomorrow.”

Basil grinned ear to ear. Soon, he wouldn’t have to fear the lightning ever again. He was even happier to notice a ‘Trimurti’ chapter in his book’s summary. Plato had chosen well.

The Trimurti are a trinity of supreme deities central to Hindu religions, Basil read, embodying the universal cycle: Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiva the Destroyer. They are associated with the Tridevi, a trinity of goddess consorts. Each member of the Trimurti is said to periodically send avatars to Earth to preserve Dharma, or righteousness.

Each member of the Trimurti had their own section in the chapter, although Brahma’s 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.

So much for the creator of the universe, Basil thought. Vishnu’s 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 it… 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 Basil’s mind.

“Do you truly think your animal strength is a match for my vitamin-powered psychic powers?” Lord Quinoa taunted Sergeant Chick and Major Chicken. “Salmon thought the same, and look where it led him.”

“Don’t you dare utter his name, monster!” Sergeant Chick replied. “The lieutenant gave his life so that we may live! It’s something you vegetables will never understand!”

“This world will never bend to your master’s will, Quinoa!” Major Chicken declared with patriotic pride. “You cannot cancel meat!”

The Major Chicken 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 coincidence…

Spurred on by an irresistible gut feeling, Basil all but devoured the information on Vishnu.

Vishnu the Preserver is one of India’s most popular deities and outright considered the supreme god by a few sects, he read. The goddess Lakshimi is his eternal consort and partner in love. Vishnu is usually depicted as sleeping on the back of the serpent demigod Ananta Shesha or riding the great bird Garuda in battle. Whenever evil and chaos threaten the world, Vishnu reincarnates as a human avatar to restore order.

The book included the list of Vishnu’s avatars according to competing scriptures. Matsya, Rama, Krishna… and the very last of them.

“Kalki,” Basil whispered.

“What did you say, Boss?” Bugsy asked. The centimagma glanced at his leader with concern. “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m… I’m alright, Bugsy.” A lie. The more Basil read, the more uncertain he felt about the future.

The tenth avatar is the one yet to come. Lord Kalki will descend upon the world at the onset of its darkest age, the Kali Yuga; an era of strife, corruption, and unrighteousness. Helped by his consort Padmavati, Lakshimi’s avatar, he will rescue the pure of heart from danger, banish evil, and usher in the universe’s regeneration. As it happened before, so will it happen again.

Basil remembered Kalki’s 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 couldn’t remember what she looked like; and how he smelled of lotus according to Plato…

Basil summoned another item from his inventory. Kalki’s 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 Vishnu’s chapter a little too well.

“Fuck.” Basil stored both his book and shell in his inventory before bolting out of the sofa.

“Where are you going, Partner?” Shellgirl asked. Vasi looked over her shoulder at Basil, clearly worried for his well-being. “You’ll miss the big fight!”

“I watched it at least five times already,” 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 driver’s seat. The device thrummed upon activation.

“Neria, I need to talk to you.” Basil activated the emergency communication procedure as Officer Elissalde taught him. This particular signal was to be reserved only for extreme case situations. “I know it’s late, but it can’t wait.”

Only static came out of the radio. Basil waited for seconds, then minutes. His frustration turned to worry.

Basil hadn’t actually expected Neria to answer immediately, not so late into the evening. She had other duties to attend to. However, someone should have picked up the emergency call. The signal was to be rerouted to another radio officer in Bordeaux’s forces so the intel could travel up the chain of command.

Yet as nobody answered Basil’s call, he wondered if something happened in the city.

“Neria? Officer Elissalde? Is anybody there?” Basil grit his teeth as his questions were met with nothing more than static noise. “Goddammit, this is urgent! Worldshaking!”

“Basil, what’s happening?” Basil looked over his shoulder to find Plato staring back at him. “I’ve never heard you getting bored of a Major Chicken episode and you’re acting weird lately.”

Basil set aside the radio and gathered his breath. How should he put it?

“I think I know who Kalki is,” he explained. “And he might help us return the world to normal.”

“I knew the guy was more than he looked,” Plato replied with a nod. “So who is he?”

“A Hindu god with Alzheimer's and one of the Trimurti.”

Plato took in the news with surprising calm. He locked eyes with his owner, wagged his tail, and finally sighed in disappointment.

“I won’t lie,” he said, “when you said god I expected a giant cat.”

“Can’t confirm his identity yet, but there are far too many coincidences.” Basil considered his options and quickly reached a decision. “Pack your things, we’ll travel to Bordeaux at dawn to track him down.”

“What?” Plato jumped in place. “Didn’t you want to scout the Apocalypse Force’s dungeon tomorrow?”

“I know what I promised Vasi, but this can’t wait,” 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. “It’s too important and our friends in Bordeaux won’t answer my call.”

Plato tensed. “You think something happened to the dog sisters?”

“Maybe.” A visit from an amnesiac god was never a banal occurrence. “We need to check.”

“I can say goodbye to my peaceful autumn and quiet winter, can I?” Plato complained. “Fine, I’ll inform the others.”

The house trembled as Rosemarine howled outside its walls. “Mister, Mister!”

“What is it, Rosemarine?” Basil shouted back.

“Lights, Mister!” Rosemarine replied joyfully. “Beautiful lights everywhere!”

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 party’s livestock screeched in fear in their coops and hutches.

“Beautiful,” 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.

“Mister, are the trees evolving too?” Rosemarine asked naïvely. “Like me?”

To Basil’s horror, her idea no longer sounded so mad. He had grown used to such weirdness by now.

“What’s going on?” Vasi and the rest of the party emerged from the house in confusion. The witch blinked at the sight of the burning horizon. “My gods.”

“Should we evacuate, Partner?” Shellgirl asked with a worried tone. “Fire and I don’t mix.”

“No need for that yet,” Basil replied. They would pump water from the stream if the fire reached the house. With Rosemarine’s size and Shellgirl’s own ice attacks, they shouldn’t fear anything.

Something felt wrong about this scenario. The Barthes were a marshland ecosystem, wet and moist, full of streams and ponds. A fire shouldn’t spread so quickly, especially without a thunderstorm.

“What an odd scent…” Plato smelled the wind. “Yo, dog, do you notice it too?”

Basil inhaled sharply and grit his teeth upon recognizing the detestable smell of white phosphorus.

This fire was artificial.

“Bugsy, use your Tremorsense,” Basil ordered. His halberd materialized in his hands. “Do you notice anything?”

“I hear explosions in the distance, east and west,” Bugsy replied, his antennae touching the ground. The centimagma’s eyes widened in shock. “Boss, I sense something in the earth too and a droning noise coming towards us!”

“I hear it too.” Plato hissed and unsheathed his sword. “Hornets!”

The Apocalypse Force, Basil guessed with a frown. He knew 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. Are they trying to smoke us out of hiding?

“Did they mistake France for Vietnam?” Basil grunted. He didn’t like the situation at all. The gearsmen had already wandered far too close to his home for his liking in the past. “Everyone, prepare for battle.”

“Do you have a plan?” Vasi asked him. “We can’t see them through the smoke.”

“Partner, my customers live on the other shore!” Shellgirl pointed at the fires in the east. “They’re in danger too!”

“They can take care of themselves,” Basil replied. Protecting their home was the team’s priority, everyone else would wait. “We’ll split into two groups and—”

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.

“Shoot them down!” Basil ordered his party. The swarm was flying straight in their direction. “Shoot them down! Don’t let them reach us!”

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 Garden’s 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.

“Mister, I can’t charge!” Rosemarine complained. A few shining particles appeared around her petals, but not enough to light them up. “Not enough sunshine!”

Argh, Rosemarine’s Perks had changed after her metamorphosis and Basil didn’t 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.

Fireseed: 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 Fireseed if she suffers from a Body Ailment.

If anything, Basil considered it a downgrade compared to her duplication power. “Rosemarine, summon Fireseeds and throw them at—”

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 Rosemarine’s 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 Vasi’s 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 kitchen’s 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 rabbits’ 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 party’s crops and turning them to ash.

For a few seconds, Basil simply couldn’t move. He was paralyzed, a prisoner of his own body. He could only watch as Old Man René’s last memento, the holy ground entrusted to his care, the place he had called his home, burned before his eyes.

Basil’s hands tightened so hard on his halberd’s 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 Basil’s feet and yet he felt no fear.

A fire hotter than white phosphorus burned inside his heart.

A blaze of unyielding rage!