“Fucking hell,” Isaac groaned.

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself, kid.”

  Isaac’s eyes snapped wide open at the familiar voice. Crimson flowers were the first thing to register in his vision. Then came the realization that he was lying among them for some reason. Worse, his head threatened to burst from the sudden whiplash.

  “The hell just happened?” he muttered, propping himself up with one hand while the other went to his brow.

  A light chuckle sounded nearby, drawing his attention to Rakin. The Overlord lounged in his usual comfortable armchair, grinning as their eyes met.

  “You, my friend, just experienced your first assassination attempt. Congrats and welcome to the club. We hold biweekly meetings at your local church.”

  Isaac rolled his eyes and dragged himself into the empty armchair that just appeared in front of the Overlord. Once he settled in, he let out a sigh and looked up.

  “Explain.”

  Rakin’s grin widened. “I warned you, kid. Taking that Scar and awakening Genesis has consequences. This is just the beginning.”

  Isaac frowned. “That can’t be right. Not yet. The second round hasn’t even begun. Why would a human attack me because of my Genesis? Doesn’t make any sense.”

  Rakin arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t it? A few sweet words from a Patron. A little nudge here and there—and bam.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis. “You got a drone ready to do anything for a scrap of glory or a reward they will never receive.”

  “No,” Isaac muttered, shaking his head. “Most of the Earth knows what the other Pioneers and I did. Humanity would have lost without us. Why risk the next rounds for—“

  A burst of laughter from Rakin cut him off.

  There was no amusement in it.

  “Don’t be naive, child. Not after the life you’ve lived,” Rakin spoke at last, his grin gone. “The world is full of fools who will believe whatever suits them. Your part in Earth’s victory won’t change that. Nothing will.”

  Isaac swallowed. He knew the Overlord was right. Really, anybody who had spent more than a few years among other humans understood that somewhere out there existed individuals who functioned outside any standards.

  And yet, after the success of the first round, where everyone had worked so well together, he let himself hope. Hope that, for once in history, all of humanity could work toward the same goal.

  Survival.

  He really should have known better. Success made him blind and naive to the point of stupidity. If only his past self could see him now. The guy who had distrusted almost everyone, reduced to an overly sentimental fool.

  What a joke.

  Better to realize it now than later, he thought, rubbing his brow. “Right… So this will be my new normal?”

  Rakin’s lips twitched into a pleased smile as he shrugged. “To a degree. I wouldn’t expect constant attempts on your life from fellow humans, but they will happen. You’re aware now, so that helps at least. Other than that, the real fun starts with the second round.”

  Isaac nodded, not even bothering to get angry at how casually the Overlord described his future problems. At the end of the day, accepting the Mystical Scar was his choice. Now he had to deal with it.

  No biggie.

  He cleared his throat, pushing that matter out of his head for now. Lesson learned, even if its source was questionable at best.

  “How did I even get here?” he asked. “I remember the stinging, the guy falling and then… well, nothing.”

  Rakin chuckled. “That ‘stinging’ as you call it, was a highly lethal poison spreading through your body. You blacked out, so I brought you here. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “My regeneration?”

  “As if,” the Overlord scoffed. “The poison your would-be assassin used was specifically designed to counter high-level regeneration by targeting its physical source—the heart, in most cases. And since you technically don’t have one anymore…”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “I lived,” Isaac finished in a low mutter. “Huh. Saved by the thing that almost killed me. Guess whoever sent the assassin didn’t know my Genesis Core had consumed my heart.”

  “They will now,” Rakin warned. “Or at least they will suspect something. Next time, you might not be this lucky.”

  “Next time, I won’t let them touch me,” Isaac swore.

  That got him a bloodthirsty grin. “Good. Now watch carefully.”

  With a wave of the Overlord’s hand, a large holographic screen appeared next to them. Another flick of his finger made a video play.

  “Remember this?”

  Isaac scrunched his brow, gaze on the figure moving on the screen.

  It was a man with short, dark blue hair that looked almost black. His face was unremarkable, the kind you could pass on the street without a second glance. His clothes, likewise, didn’t scream unique. Black pants, and a dark shirt with a deep blue coat thrown over it.

  What wasn’t ordinary was the weapon in his hands.

  A bow, roughly two-thirds the size of an adult human. It shared the shape of a traditional compound bow, but the material was unlike anything Isaac had ever seen. Violets and deep blues flowed through its frame, bound by veins of silver. The reinforced edges and front made it look heavy, yet the man wielded it effortlessly.

  The holographic recording looped, and once more showed the guy drawing back three glowing white strings. A massive arrow of pure yellowish energy materialized in his grasp.

  The man then opened his mouth, yelling something, and let the arrow fly.

  Isaac turned to Rakin after another loop. “Who’s this?”

  “So you don’t remember,” the Overlord said, freezing the image with another flick of his hand. “Allow me to introduce you to the fourth and final living Pioneer of Earth. Chris Ewing. He was the guy who made the Worldeater eat dirt before you dove into its mouth.”

  Isaac blinked.

  Oh.

  Now that he thought about it, he did remember someone yelling at him to jump. The yellowish arrow came next. The rest was history. Between the chaos of the invasion and awakening his Genesis, he had forgotten about this.

  Final Pioneer, he thought, glancing between the screen and Rakin. Two of us died then.

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t do anything without reason. Why show me this?”

  Rakin nodded, the screen vanishing. “You see, our friend Chris here was recruited by a certain organization early on. Beyonders, they call themselves. It’s made of individuals who live and thrive within the Broken Realm. Very dangerous fellows.”

  For a moment, Isaac’s mind froze. Before this, he had believed the Broken Realm was a death sentence for anyone foolish enough to enter it. Now, though?

  “How?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

  Rakin waved the question away. “Unimportant. Just know that I, and by extension you, are now tentatively allied to them. And before you ask, I did this to help you, kid. Depending on how the next few days go, they may be your only chance to survive and win the second round.”

  The flare of anger Isaac felt at being denied answers suddenly vanished, replaced by a cold, sinking realization.

  “All the other Overlords are trying to manipulate the second round to get me killed,” he stated.

  “Pretty much,” Rakin said. “Not all of them are making moves yet, but they will. Add a few other major players to the mix, and yes, it’s a problem. Thankfully, not all is lost yet. I still have plenty of influence, and there are limits to what the Overseer will tolerate before interfering. And trust me, nobody should want that.”

  Isaac nodded absently, though he still didn’t fully understand where exactly the Overseer stood in the hierarchy. Had to be high, if even the Overlords feared it.

  One of those days, he would get all the answers he wanted.

  A sigh slipped past his lips.

  “How do I contact this Chris guy? I get the feeling he doesn’t accept messages.”

  “He doesn’t,” Rakin confirmed. “He should contact you once the second round begins. How? They didn’t tell me. Annoying bastards…”

  Isaac ignored the Overlord’s mumbling and tried to process everything he had just learned. One thing was clear. He hated how much of this was out of his control. Again, he couldn’t really complain. He brought it all upon himself with his choices.

  Those Beyonders, though… there was potential there. Much to learn if what Rakin had said was true. It was the only reason why he wasn’t mad at the Overlord for setting him up with those people.

  At least I won’t be bored.

  He chuckled, the noise finally interrupting Rakin’s rant. The alien cleared his throat and looked at Isaac as if he hadn’t just spent a couple of minutes monologuing about how irritating the Beyonder liaison was.

  “Anyway… Your time here is running out, so before you leave, two things, kid. First, don’t mention Beyonders to anyone yet. They are your Ace. Don’t waste it. Second, the Dimensional Tear you found. For obvious reasons, don’t destroy it. Just keep it under control.”

  Isaac nodded, expecting as much. “Anything else?”

  Rakin shook his head as he stood up. “No. I will contact you after the next round starts. Until then, survive.”

  Isaac also rose to his feet. What he didn’t expect was the scaly hand Rakin extended toward him. He glanced at it, then back at the alien. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, he took it.

  “I know I’m not someone you should trust,” Rakin said, their hands still in a firm handshake. “Whether because I’m an annoying asshole or because of my role in your world’s fall. Yet… I want you to understand that everything I do now is meant to help you. The moment you took and awakened that Scar, you stopped being a pawn for others to move. Even for me, though it may not seem that way right now. I just hope that one day, you will accept the true partnership I’m offering you.”

  Isaac narrowed his eyes. “We will see about that.”

  Rakin grinned and let go of his hand.

  “Good answer.”