"Yes, yes, me," Rakin grumbled, rolling his silver eyes. "Stop wasting our precious time and get up. We have much to discuss."

Isaac narrowed his eyes but rose to his feet. He didn't go anywhere, though, standing his ground.

The alien sighed and waved his hand. "So stubborn… Typical of bloods…" he mumbled.

In an instant, the world around Isaac shifted. One moment, he was standing in a field of crimson grass, and the next, he was seated in a plush armchair directly across from Rakin. He blinked, but when he tried to jump out of his seat, he found that his body refused to listen to him.

Not good, he thought.

"Calm down, little Host, I just wanna talk," the alien said, offering him a lazy grin. "Is it really too much to ask for?"

"I was fine just standing," Isaac grunted.

Rakin shook his head lightly. "As I said, stubborn to the point of stupidity… Relax, child, and I will let you move. Deal?"

Reluctantly, Isaac nodded. It had been a while since he felt so powerless, and he didn't like it one bit. His Root of Blood was nowhere to be seen, and the familiar hum of the Symphony hadn't even stirred after he was manhandled. Just like the last time, he was weak again—a base human.

Still, the alien at least kept his word. A moment later, control returned to his limbs. He tensed but didn't jump out of his seat. There was nothing he could do here anyway. The man before him had him at his mercy.

"See?" Rakin's voice pulled him back to reality. "That wasn't so bad." The alien leaned back, one leg crossing over the other. "Now, I'm well aware my previous introduction wasn't up to standard. Let me rectify that before we get down to business." He tipped his head lightly. "As you know, my name is Rakin, but the title given to me is a bit more recognizable. Overlord Chaos, at your service, little Host."

Isaac's eyes widened. He had been pulling his hair out, trying to figure out just who this guy was. And now he finally had confirmation for one of his theories. This was one of the beings responsible for the entire mess now happening on Earth. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to thank the bastard or punch him in the face.

The rational part of him voted for the latter. Especially after so many deaths those beings caused—Tyler included. But… another part of him, the one that awoke in the chaos and enjoyed almost every second of this new life, told him to just shake the being's hand and be done with it.

Isaac silenced both and refocused on the creature before him.

"You're my Sire," he said flatly. "Whatever the hell that even means."

Rakin smiled. "Nothing sinister, I assure you. Simply put, when the initialization on Earth began, you received a very tiny piece of my Virus strain." He raised a single hand. "And before you ask, no, that doesn't mean I can snap my fingers and turn you into a mindless minion. There are some benefits, I won't lie about that, but that's not a subject for today. Just know that I'm a potential ally, not an enemy."

I will be the judge of that, Isaac thought, frowning. You and your friends are the ones who reshaped an apocalypse into a death game between different planets.

"Why am I here again?" he asked instead. "If you're as important as you sound, why waste your time meeting some random guy from Earth?"

Rakin's smile shifted into a grin. "Didn't I say it already? I want to talk!" At Isaac's deadpan stare, the alien sighed. "Tough crowd. You really ought to lighten up, kid. Be more like that friend of yours. What was his name… Joseph? No. Jack? Nah." He snapped his fingers. "James! That's it. Be more like him."

This time, it was Isaac's turn to roll his eyes. "I think I will pass," he drawled.

Rakin just shrugged. "Oh well. I tried. Maybe next time… In any case, you're here because I'm offering you a chance to prove yourself. Isn't that wonderful?"

Isaac furrowed his brow. "Prove myself? Why would I have to do that?"

"Oh, don't be daft, kid. You're smarter than that… Or did you already forget what my old pal Fisk told you all during the transmission?"

He blinked, his mind flashing back to that short but very informative event. The Overlord Broadcast said a lot back then, often leaving him with more questions than answers. But the thing Rakin was talking about…

His eyes widened a bit.

Oh…

The alien before him chuckled. "I see you get it now… The universe is watching you all, looking for promising individuals to support. And lucky you—you made it onto my list."

Isaac swallowed. "But why me? I bet there are hundreds, hell, thousands of individuals out there that are doing as good, if not better."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Rakin gave him a crooked grin. "Why you? My dear little Host, you're a survivor of a planet that underwent the Breakout stage. And a Pioneer at that. You think I wouldn't at least check in on you?" He gave a dismissive wave. "Sure, you're not the only name on my list, but I would be a fool if I just left you alone."

I see, Isaac thought, even as a spark of anger ignited within him at the mention of the Breakout stage. He pushed it down, forcing himself to look the alien in the eye.

"Why do it?" he asked. "Why make it all into some bloody death game? Why not just integrate us normally and train us to stand against this Broken Strain? Why cause so much needless death?"

Maybe he was stupid to ask all that when he was at the mercy of the Overlord, but he needed to know. There had to be a point to all of this madness.

Rakin's grin faded. "Hmph. Of course you would ask that," he muttered. "You want the big hard truth? Very well, I will give you just that."

The alien stood up and turned toward the horizon of the endless crimson plains. For a brief moment, it seemed like he wouldn't say anything, but then, his voice—low, steady, and cold—cut through the silence.

"For a lot of Hosts, the Virus Wars are entertainment. A show to watch during work. A fresh arena to gamble on. A business." He looked over his shoulder at Isaac. "But it also serves another purpose."

He faced him fully. "Some Hosts tend to forget what we are up against. What's waiting beyond the line. And every Integration cycle is a necessary reminder. A lesson. A refresher course, if you will. Can't have anyone lazing around after all, hmm?"

The anger boiling inside Isaac spiked, and he had to actively fight the urge to stand up and punch the alien. And by the look on Rakin's face—that smug little smirk—the bastard knew it.

"Sure,"—the Overlord continued, shrugging—"we could have done things differently. Taken you in, trained you, guided you. Just like you suggested. But that's slower. Less effective. And quite frankly? Boring." His sharp grin returned. "Virus Wars force every new world to adapt or die. You grow stronger faster. You learn the cost of failure firsthand. And you taste the power of the Broken Strain on your own skin. All of that with barely any outside help. "

Isaac narrowed his eyes. "So all those deaths are worth it?" he hissed. "You want soldiers, but you send us to die before we can even become them?"

Rakin chuckled. "Quality over quantity, my young friend. It's the universal truth. Why have a billion bumbling idiots when I can have half that of Hosts determined to survive and grow stronger?"

He stepped closer, grabbing Isaac's chin in a firm grip. "And don't pretend to pity the dead. I know exactly what you are, child. You enjoy the slaughter. You live for the blood singing in your veins. You thrive in this new order." His silver gaze bored into Isaac's. "And aside from your little team… you don't give a damn about anyone else. So why lie to yourself?"

Isaac remained frozen even after Rakin let him go. The words stung because there was some truth in them. He didn't care for the masses, never did. But he also wasn't completely indifferent to all the suffering caused by the Integration anymore. He just dealt with all that much better than most. The situation in the goblin village proved that well enough.

"So as you see," the alien spoke again, pulling him out of his head. "This is the truth. It's brutal. Ugly. But you asked for it. Hate us or love us. Doesn't really matter anyway. All you should be worried about is growing stronger, surviving, and winning the wars to come."

Isaac clenched his fists, took a slow breath, and let it out, his anger draining away. As much as he hated to admit it, Rakin was right. Nothing he did here would change the system. The Virus Wars were coming, whether he liked it or not.

"So what now?" he asked, suddenly feeling tired.

The Overlord returned to his seat and smiled. "Now, I present you with your chance to prove yourself to me. You succeed and I just might become your future Patron."

"And if I fail?"

Rakin's smile turned nasty. "Then apparently you weren't worth my time, and I will cross you off the list. Good luck finding a Patron after that."

Isaac scowled. "You would stop others from helping me?"

Rakin shrugged. "I dislike people who waste my time. And let's just say being who I am has its perks. Which includes providing those I support with gifts many can only dream of."

Isaac rolled his eyes at the unsubtle manipulation. For a moment, he wondered if other Overlords were just as blunt and obnoxious. Though, on second thought, he really didn't want to know. At least not yet. Handling one all-powerful being was more than enough.

He sighed. "All right, I will bite. How do I prove myself?"

"I knew you would see things my way," Rakin said, grinning again. "You bearers of blood are all alike at the core. Now, let's get down to the business!"

Bearers of blood, huh? Isaac filed the phrase away for later. It was the first time anyone had called his Origin that.

"My first task for you is simple enough," Rakin continued. "All you have to do is slay a certain beast I will point out to you. Do that, and I will give you something that will help reawaken your Origin. Fair?"

Isaac nodded. "I guess. Any rules? Do I have to do it alone? Where will I find this beast?"

"In order,"—Rakin said, raising a finger with each point—"there are no rules. As long as the monster dies, you pass. Bring your team, burn down the world, I don't care. And as for finding it…" he snapped his fingers, and in a flash, an old pocket compass appeared in his hand. "Once you wake up, you will see this little trinket beside you. It will show you the way."

"And that's it?" Isaac asked just to make sure.

The Overlord shrugged. "That's it. I don't bother with needless complications. Kill the beast, and you get my tentative support. Fail, and you won't see me again. And we both know you don't want that. Not with all the questions you have. Alas… those will have to wait."

With that, Rakin stood up, his armchair vanishing. "Our allocated time is up. I wish you luck, little Host. You bearers of blood are always interesting to watch… Oh, and before I forget. I have a small gift for you. Consider it an incentive to give me a good show."

Isaac also rose to his feet just as his own chair vanished. He arched an eyebrow at the alien.

"Gift?"

Rakin chuckled, waggling a finger. "Nothing that will make you more powerful. Just think about it as a quality-of-life update. Trust me, you will like it. Everyone does."

What?

Isaac was about to ask what the Overlord meant by that, but the world around him went dark before a word could leave his mouth. Before sleep claimed him once again, Rakin's voice echoed around him for one final time.

"Impress me, Isaac Walker… or become another forgotten face in the crowd."

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