Suddenly, I can breathe again. I gasp, pulling air into my lungs faster than I can let it out. Oh gods, this feels so good! The bitter taste of salt mixed with the city, of wet dog and old food—I live for this. I turn to Ghelly, who jerks to consciousness a moment later. I laugh and hug him close as he coughs out his first few breaths of reality. Before I know it, he's returning the hug, gripping me tight. Ow! Ribs! And...ugh, everything. Everything hurts. But what's new?

Ghelly leans back on his hands, tossing his dark locks out of his face. "Son of a bitch," he gasps out with a smile. I couldn't have said it better myself. For a moment, we both sit there and listen to our labored breathing, and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Ghelly turns his attention to it and frowns. "We were in there for a week, but that clock says it's only been a few hours." He's about to ask Donyoku about it, until he sees the Baku is asleep, snoring softly.

I look down at the heart of Zargoth in my hands and grab a bag from one of Donyoku's dressers, slipping the heart inside. At least this wasn't all for nothing. I put an arm around Ghelly and turn him around.

"Let the Baku sleep, mate. He must be exhausted." I lead Ghelly out the door and lock it behind us, entering the street. "And a word of advice," I say, looking down at him. "Don't try to wrap your head around the Dream Realm. Sometimes you're in there for a month and it's only been a day. Sometimes you're there for an hour, and when you come out, all your friends have aged to dust." I snap my mouth shut to keep from saying anymore. Ghelly slips out from under my arm and looks down at the ground. Way to make it heavy, Namonai. I slap him on the back and he stumbles—I will never get tired of that. "But, you had some questions, right?"

"Yeah. So, um," Ghelly scratches the back of his head, "I'm still confused about some stuff. Like, what do you I call you?"

We skirt around a bickering old couple, rejoining on the other side of them. "You can call me Namonai."

"But what about the memory I saw? They were calling you something else." I sigh and straighten my mask. Kids, always so curious. I should give Ghelly to Esilea for a day, she likes kids. Okay, that sounded wrong.

"I was born as the god Hosuseri, son to Ninigi and Sakuya, brother to Hoderi and Hoori. But that's not who I am anymore. I've made a new name for myself." Literally. I look to Ghelly. "Next."

"Okay." Ghelly looks underwhelmed by my answer. "Why do you wear the mask?" he asks. I scratch my chin, thinking.

"Well, I mean, why does anyone do anything, really?"

"Namonai..."

"Fine." I hate being responsible and sticking to my word. It's so tedious. "I was burned at birth. Under this mask," I gesture with my hand to the mask I wear that marks me as an agent of Inari to the outside world, "I look like the child of an overripe tomato and a rotten egg yolk, if said child was burnt to shit and then dehydrated for a month by sea salt."

I look at Ghelly out of the corner of my eye to see him making a very revolted face. "That's sick!" he says. He leans forward and I pick up my pace, speaking before he can open his mouth.

"No, you can't see it."

"Alright, fine," he pouts. "Then," he rounds his shoulders as we pass some of Marazan's goons, "what's the deal with Donyoku? That shadow guy called him a 'Conductor'." I keep my eyes on the beast people until we're a safe distance. The Jungle is home, yeah, but more of a...filthy, crime-ridden, dangerous home that I half-hate. I still love it, though. Mostly.

"Conductors are creatures, many of them being Baku, that facilitate safe travel for others between different locations and planes of existence in the cosmos." Ghelly nods with a blank look on his face. "Half bodyguard, half tour guide." His face lights up with understanding. "They're the natural enemies of interdimensional parasites like Mutovinatum, and they hate each other's guts. The best Conductors are chosen to guard various gateways and portals around the cosmos.

"They work closely with Godkillers. And Godkillers," I continue even while Ghelly tries to interject. Sometimes, kid, you just have to listen. "Are mortals who were imbued with the ability to never age, as well as superhuman strength, endurance, and the like. They also, most of the time, get a free pass out of the Underworld should they be killed while in service. They never age, but they're not invincible.

"Immortals created them as a way to deal with rivalries and eliminate potential, galaxy-ending wars. They work similar to demi-gods from ancient literature. Besides Immortals and extranormal entities, they're the only ones capable of killing Immortals without breaching a universal contract laid down by Father Time and Mother Earth. It's still not easy, though—it takes a while and there's a lot of paperwork. And before you ask," we pass the Eyreie Orphanarium, "most Godkillers are assholes. Don't associate with them."

Ghelly nods, slowly digesting the new information. "So...Immortals create Godkillers from regular people." He taps the pommel of his sword, thinking for a moment. "Then...can someone be born a Godkiller?"

I nod. "It's rare, but it can happen. They're more powerful than normal Godkillers, often having access to powerful magic or abilities. Most of the time, they're quickly snatched up or killed by Immortals before they become a real threat." Ghelly lets out a long sigh, stretching his shoulders as we draw closer to the Burnt Rice Tavern. The sun has started its descent, but it's not yet evening.

"And why did we go in the Dream Realm in the first place?"

I hug the bag with Zargoth's heart in it closer to my torso. "A real bitch named Marinette had a discussion with Naiomi. Apparently, we were hired to get an eternal power source which will probably be used to power some kind of drill. The power source turned out to be the dragon's heart. That's why I went, anyway." I turn to him as we reach the threshold. "But I suspect you came with me because of my irresistible personality."

"You wish," Ghelly says with snort. I frown and keep my hand on the door.

"Maybe. But, this stays between us, clear? No more questions, and don't talk about any of this with the others. Including Naiomi. Got it?" He nods. "Good." I swing the tavern door open.

"Namonai!" I smile underneath my mask. Ah, the hero's welcome. I open my arms wide to receive the praise. "Where in the seven hells have you been?" My smile drops at Naiomi's words. Of course this is the thanks I get. (they obviously don't appreciate you)

I shake the dark thought out of my head and bow to the empty bar. "Just getting what you asked for, your royal bitchiness." I come out of the bow to see a very disheveled Naiomi walking gingerly down the stairs. Her hair's a rat's nest. She tries to straighten it with her brush while she attempts to fix the straps of her dress, all without missing a single step. A large, anthropomorphic wolf in baggy pants held up by a piece of rope leaves her room and brushes past her. He gives me a large grin and slams the tavern door shut behind him.

Naiomi (that bitch) clears her throat. "Hopefully the power source is—"

"No, no. We're on this now," I say quietly.