Overlooking a great, horrific chasm is Love, armed with nothing but her bow, Worldloss, and her centuries of experience with this place that so few have walked. Standing upon a complex parabola, she carefully observes the movement in the insane canyon below.

All below her are equations, impossible creatures, and sentient somethings that could not exist in any other realm; at least, in her knowledge of things, which would best be described as wide, but misty. With a calm expression she surveys the land down under, seemingly-limitless abysses of chaos and confusion, swirling about like a great blender of possibility. The realms of the physical and the spirit, the brutish and the noble, the living and the inanimate, the yes and the no, all meet here in this space, meshing out of their defined orders.

Love spots at the edge of her vision a necromancer being placed into an enormous oven by the element Oxygen, among the most pretentious of the gaseous nobility. Guarding nearby is the concept of readiness, the internet, and something not yet invented, called a man bun. She slides down the ridge, steps across a faint field of flowery quips, and then hops out of the carriage. In the most impossible way she can, she approaches the three under the gaze of more armies of nonsense.

“Cheerio, chaps,” Love begins, quickly adjusting to their probable style of speaking.

“Day,” the man bun says.

“Save tha’ queen,” the concept of readiness says with a bow.

“An’ you, gov’na. Whatcha’ bakin’?” she asks.

“Some squibble that thought it good t’have himself a lil’ chuckle on th’ entry mount. We’ll show ‘em. Almost knocked ‘is block off but we thought’a cook ‘em ‘stead. ‘E’ll make a fine puddy. That right?” Internet asks Oxygen.

“Wot?” Oxygen says, too busy looking at the gigantic temperature knob to pay attention.

“Tha’ squibble.”

“Aye, wot uf’em?”

“ ’E’ll be a puddy?”

“Oh! Aye, a fine puddy,” Oxygen agrees with a half-existent nod. Love crosses her arms and hums.

“Not’sa sure about that, gov’,” she interjects.

“Eh?” Oxygen grunts.

“I could get y’somethin’ better I reckon.”

“Eh?”

“Swear on me mum,” Love says, swearing distinctively upon her maternal figure. Oxygen looks over to the man-bun, and looks back.

“What’a might that be?” Oxygen asks, skeptically crossing its protons. Love smiles, nods, and begins shuffling through her many layers of clothing. She was never much of one for wearing armor; simply not enough compartments and pockets for her.

She pulls out a stuffed bear, and displays it clearly like a legendary artifact.

“This’n?” she asks.

“Smells like oldness,” Readiness comments.

“I prefer the term ‘ancienticity’,” she replies with her usual calm tone. Readiness looks over to Oxygen.

“Ancienticity is pretty good f’a puddy, aye?”

“Aye, ‘spose so, but not enough to feed th’whol’uv’us. Wot els’a got?” Oxygen says, taking the bear and signaling the man bun to stop heating up the oven. Love searches her belongings again, and pulls out a card.

“So wot? Sa’bloody card,” Internet says.

“Yes, but it’s an ace, and the suit is spades,” Love says with a diplomatic tone. Readiness gasps.

“Ohh! The rarest o’em all. Eh, Oxy?”

“Yeh that’ll be tasty. One more thing like that n’it’ll be gold, lass,” the leader of the three says as it takes the card and places the bear on top of it. Love searches about her person some more, and a look of slight concern crosses her features. She pulls out a magic gem, glowing with a wintery radiance.

“Crysta’ of th’ Cold World? Pretty big stuff with them’s elite magi-” Love is cut off over the sounds of disgust and displeasure from the three somethings surrounding her.

“Gross. Yeh got somethin’ else?” Oxygen says with a displeased scowl. Love goes through again, and pulls out an enchanted knife.

“Shiv of the s-”

“Humans, I tell ya’ three, c’n eva’ follo’ through wit’ter ‘romsies,” Readiness says with an indignant nod. Oxygen shrugs.

“True. Ya’ got anythin’a else? Ya’ know, of value?” it asks, pushing its face against Love’s. Meeo, under the impression she has one last try, pulls out her ace in the hole.

“My bow, WorldLoss.”

“Ehhh, I ‘unno, la-”

“Oh, it’s very dear to me. It was given to me by Reinen’s king before we lost him and its people all funneled into all the Western Kingdoms. It was him that taught me that items are only tools that a person shouldn’t miss, because a newer, better tool is always on the way to help you with newer, bigger problems. After I gave him my old bow, he gave me this one, and it’s served me faithfully for thousands of years. However, if you really want it, I would gladly gi-”

“A SENSICAL CREATURE IN OUR REALM, EH?” booms a voice from far away. The four look aside to see a great, nonsensical shadow-figure, spiraling over them. Love sighs, and enters a fletching stance.

“Oh, why hello there,” Love greets, bow readied, but lowered to appear less threatening.

“AHH, LOVE! MY MOST PRIZED PREY! FOR WHAT REASON HAVE YOU STUMBLED INTO THIS LAND? ANOTHER OF YOUR LAUGHABLE TEA PARTIES, NO DOUBT!”

“Mmm, actually no, not this time. I’m here to get this necromancer out of this oven here. Once I’ve gotten it I will leave promptly, if you’d allow me, m’lord,” Love says with a polite nod of the head. The tall figure, now flushing the colors of Fall through its body, laughs cruelly.

“IT’S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I’VE TASTED THE FLESH OF A HUMAN. I’D GLADLY RELEASE THE NECROMANCER WERE YOU TO BE COOKED IN ITS STEAD!”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible. I need to bring it back personally and make sure it doesn’t escape.”

“THEN I’LL JUST TAKE YOU NOW, THEN!”

“Oh, you’re so bothersome, you anomaly. Isn’t there any way we could figure this out with civility?”

“... IT IS POSSIBLE, BUT ONLY IF YOU RECONSIDER MY OFFER TO BECOME MY BRI-”

Love winces. “I certainly will not reconsider, you something or other.”

“VERY WELL! THAT’S LORD SOMETHING TO YOU! IF I SHANT HAVE MY ONLY HUMAN COUNTER PART, THEN NONE SHOULD EXIST! MEET DEATH!” the towering enigma screams as it raises its great arms forward.

Love begins firing off arrows at “Lord Something” while casting a spell under her breath. Something is able to nullify most of the bolts, but is struck in the forehead with one, knocking him forward three inches, due to the nonsensical physical attributes of the realm. Just as Something grasps for Love, she finishes her spell.

“Hal Coy,” she says with a light smile, releasing her gravity spell. As she expected, the spell has the opposite effect, and rather than creating a condensing space that pulls in all around it, it instead repulses. The three whatever-you-call-thems, the oven, and Lord Something are all forced away as Love leaps through the air and latches onto the flying oven. Politely knocking, the oven opens for her to free the necromancer. The moment an escape is offered, the necromancer leaps up from its hot prison, only to have a string tied around its metallic pinkie finger by Love with practiced speed. She knows well that these sorts of things will only work until she can get it outside of Everlock, then things will be back to normal.

With a tiny hop, she flies through the air with fairy-like grace, trailing along the necromancer, who is flapping in the air like paper. Almost to the entry mount, with the other side of Everlock lazily standing guard, Love hums with a sort of elation rare for her, basking in the victory of yet another successful incursion into the realm of the impossible. However, Lord Something has different plans.

With a snap of his tall, dark fingers, Love is overcome with a distinctively unprogressive feeling, as if she weren’t even moving. She looks down to her feet, and notes they’re still going, but when she looks up to Everlock she sees she’s not getting any nearer, almost like there is distance being created as she tries to reach the door. Only a second passes and now Love feels as though she is not only not going to where she intends, but backwards! With a quick clasp, Lord Something catches the back-wards moving Love and her necromancer in his great hand.

“LOOKS LIKE I WIN. LAST CHANCE! THE ONLY PEOPLE I’VE SEEN LIVE COMFORTABLY HERE ARE YOU AND THAT CHAOS PERSON, AND I SURE AS PURGATORY AM NOT INTERESTED IN HIM. THERE IS NO BEING IN ANY DIMENSION AS WHIMSICAL AS YOU, AS LOVELY AS YOU. WILL YOU NOT RECONSIDER?” Lord Something says, body changing between seasons. Love turns her head to the side.

“I feel that would be inappropriate. I ... Pardon, good something, did you say Chaos?” she says with a look of surprise.

Lord Something squints his leaves in surprise. “YES, HE GOES FOR WALKS AROUND THE INSANITY GARDENS AT LEAST ONCE A DAY NOW- THE PEST. HE USES A SPECIALLY-ENCHANTED DOOR LIKE YOUR OWN TO COME HERE TO RUN AROUND AND LOOK FOR THINGS HE FINDS INTERESTING. I SUPPOSE IT WAS A LIE SAYING YOU ARE THE MOST WHIMSICAL, AS HE CAN BE ANYTHING HE WANTS WHEN HE’S INSANE ENOUGH, BUT YOU A-”

“I suppose that is true,” she interrupts, “Well, I think you should put me down now.”

“ON THE CONTRARY, THIS IS THE LAST TIME YOU WILL EVER BE PICKED UP! SAY YOUR PRAYERS TO YOUR OMNIVERSE GOD. YOU AND YOUR NECROMANCER ARE DEAD!” Lord Something says, a great wildfire raging across his visage. The Lord of the Anomalies opens his jaws large enough to accommodate a house, and dangles Love by the leg over his abyssal throat. The necromancer flips up and clings to her, doing its best not to lose its grip and fall into Lord Something’s gaping maw. Love stares into the Lord’s jaws, seeing the great, impossible horror inside. With only a second of consideration, she snaps her fingers in realization.

“Oh um, before you eat us,” she says with pillow softness. Lord Something pulls her and the necromancer away.

“YES?”

“When would you say Chaos is around??”

“USUALLY ONCE A DAY OR SO, AS I SAID. HE TENDS TO HANG ABOUT UNTIL HE SPOTS ME. HE’S QUITE THE NASTY ONE, APPARENTLY UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT I HAVE SOME MAGIC TREASURE DOWN MY GUT OR SOMETHING. WHAT A PRUDE, AM I RIGHT?”

“Oh, that so?”

“RIGHT, BUT HE HAS TROUBLE NOW BECAUSE I FOUND OUT HE WOULD LOCATE ME BY LAUGHING. AS I AM THE LORD OF NONSENSE, I’VE FOUND THAT MY LAUGHING FUN TENDS TO PASS THE TIME MUCH FASTER THAN USUAL, SO ANY TIME I CHUCKLE HE’S WAY CLOSER THAN BEFORE. I LAUGH A LOT, YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. BEST TIME, TOO, AS HE JUST GETS FASTER AND FASTER ON IT. SO UNTIL HE STOPS COMING AROUND I’M TRYING TO KEEP MYSELF FROM JOKES,” Lord Something explains. Love’s expression sharpens to almost normal-person levels of seriousness, and then back to her usual whimsy. “Time flies when having fun” she remembers.

“Oh my, ‘time flies when you’re having fun,’ I suppose. So what kind of laugh? Could you show me?”

“OF COURSE NOT! HA! FOOLISH HUMAN! THAT WOULD BRING HIM RIGHT HERE!”

“I really am curious. Couldn’t you just laugh a little?”

“HAHAHA! FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! I WILL DO NO SUCH THING! HA! JUST THE THOUGHT OF ...-” Lord Something stops his speech, realizing that Love has played off of his pompous attitude to cause him to laugh, at the thought of being tricked into laughing. Lord Something looks around to ensure the High Overlord is nowhere to be seen.

“Whatever is the matter?” Love asks with an honest, wide-eyed gaze as she spots a very blacker-than-pitch figure soaring down in the sky above. She realizes that a few “HA!”s was all that was needed to save her from Lord Something, and perhaps doom her at the hand of the great Overlord.

“QUIET, YOU KNOW WELL WHAT THE MATTER IS. YOU TREATCHEROUS LITTLE SQUIBBLE, I’LL SHOW YOU THE PRICE OF DEFYING ME!”

“Really?” Love asks, watching the black figure soar down through the square-shaped clouds.

“I’M GOING TO EAT YOU. I WOULD CONSIDER THAT PRETTY PRICY.”

“Oh, bother, you really shouldn’t.”

“OH? WHY’S THAT?” Love looses a rare scoff from between her lips hearing his response.

“You’re going to be so busy running, I don’t think I would sit well in you,” Love says, giving him a lovely smile. Lord Something looks at her with bewilderment, but then, at the edge of his hearing, he picks up something that sounds like the maniacal, violent laughter of a certain Ultimate High Overlord.

“CABBAGES!” Something yells as he trembles in shock.

“On the bright side, it’s fine exercise!” Love chipperly says as Lord Something decides to get his revenge and rush away all at the same time.

Lord Something, displaying a violent thunder storm, leans into a quick stride and bolts across the lands as Chaos descends like a falling star over his target. Lord something widens his jaws, looking up to take guesses at Chaos’ falling trajectory; as it’s commonly held that Chaos kills a good many people in fights just by landing on them. With a quick gulp, Lord Something tosses Meeo and the necromancer into his abyssal maw, sending them to a realm of nothingness. Freed from Something’s hands, Love quickly fires a bolt into the side of his throat as they descend, but it bounces right back, glancing her in the left side. With enough time for one more before they enter his quasi-dimensional stomach, she fires one the opposite-ways, right toward her chest, and this time it does exactly what she wants. With a quick grasp, Love catches the great arrow and hangs tight, the necromancer in turn hanging on to her by the thread.

Outside, the sky-bound figure speaks. Though he is soft and calmly-spoken, his voice is powerful enough for the entire realm to hear by the authority he carries alone.

“Going somewhere, are we?” the commanding voice sounds off the moment before its owner falls right in front of Lord Something, much in the style of a meteor impacting a planet. As the assailant is intentionally using weight-reduction magic, it serves him precisely as he intended, giving all the attributes of heavy weight in the true world. Lord Something scowls and coughs while Love hangs inside of his throat.

“YOU ... BEGONE! I’LL DESTROY YOU EASILY!” the whatever lord threatens, stamping his foot forward threateningly. The challenger, the High Overlord himself, immediately takes this to mean that Lord Something is afraid, and is bluffing to deter him; he takes offence to this.

"Oh my. Could it be you are implying I can be frightened by the likes of you? How utterly laughable. Now, surrender your treasure or die- this is my command!” Chaos orders, reaching inside of his jaws to pull out what seems to be a fishing rod, his weapon of choice in negative space. Lord Something cringes at the sight of the completely-normal fishing stick, as great and mighty as an enchanted blade in the real realms.

“I’M WARNING YOU! I HAVE POWER BEYOND YOUR WILDEST-”

“I have no interest in your childish prostrations. Should you remain uncompliant, I will silence you early,” Chaos interrupts, brandishing his fishing pole, promptly shutting up the master of uncertainty. Lord Something turns and dashes away, failing wildly. “Hmm, I rather expected you to respond that way, so be it,” the Overlord says as he pulls from his person an apple with a bit of scribbling on it. Lord Something stops in his tracks, looking behind himself just enough to spot the red, devilish gleam of an ultimate weapon in negative space: an apple, autographed by an orange which never existed. Of course, anything existent interacted on by something non-existent is generally considered pretty scary anywhere, but in even more so in negative space.

Lord Something mutters senselessly. “YOU, HOW DID YOU?”

“I did a tad of non-research and this suddenly came to me. I must say, it was far more difficult than I imagined finding a non-existent sentient orange; why, if you had asked me last week I would have denied the existence of such things, but then again I was still partially correct, as they do not. Now, I believe it would be in your best interests were to kindly surrender your treasure to me. I will allow you ten seconds before I start peeling this,” Chaos says with a wide, victorious grin. Lord something trembles at the thought of absolute half-oblivion, and after a second of thought, realizes he is actually in a perfect position to deceive his hunter.

Inside Lord Something’s mouth trench, Love and the necromancer observe the throat around them widening just a bit, and are then promptly shot out from his mouth.

“VERY WELL, OVERLORD. HERE ARE MY TREASURES!” Lord Something says, raising his hands in surrender. Love and the necromancer behold the sharp, tall visage of Chaos, his antennae perking high. The One and Forever True Overlord looks over the two, and hums inquisitively as they look at him in turn.

He is a tall, human-like creature, but with a blacker-than-pitch, light absorbing body, not a single feature or shade to be found amidst his beastly physique; more of a silhouette than anything. There is an exception; however. His eyes and jaws are of a fierce, glowing white, shining in any darkness. His perfect black and white body is like an impressionistic representation of calligraphy- if calligraphy were alive and evil, that is. There is something about him simultaneously terrifying, but beautiful. Love can’t quite place it, but she always feels a great mix of disgust and longing when she looks upon him: the greatest and most wanted target in all the realms.

“These two are treasures? They are alive…. I was not expecting them to be alive,” Chaos says with a light smile.

“YES, WELL THERE YOU HAVE IT. GOODBYE,” Lord Something says as he promptly walks away, doing his best to look calm while still getting as much distance between Chaos and himself as he can. The overlord smiles, and puts away the apple and fishing pole into his throat for safe-keeping.

“So be it. Good day,” Chaos says with a polite nod as he steps up to his treasure.

“Why, hello there,” Love says, keeping the necromancer from moving its arms and attacking by giving it a tight hug that proves to be awkward for both of them. Chaos tilts his head a bit to the side and squints an eye in humor.

“Hello there, treasures. Should you be unaware of the recent events, it turns out that your previous master has surrendered you both to me. As I am now your dark master, you may call me ‘Overlord’, ‘sir’, ‘Greatest and Chiefest of Calamities’, one of my other titles, whom you may ask Title Minion to retrieve the entire list for you, or just ‘Roy’; I will allow you to speak to me frankly and honestly, as long as it is done with respect and courtesy. Do you understand?” Chaos says, standing over the two on the ground. Love thinks a moment, and nods.

“Why yes, I do, but I’m curious; why would you want us to call you ‘Roy’? It’s not even a title, is it?” Love asks. Chaos offers his hand, and Love take it, promptly pulling the two of them to their feet.

“In all honesty I do not know, however it rolls off the tongue well. A natural feeling, if you will,” he says with a grin.

“Oh, I understand. We all have names we like, I suppose. I once went through a phase in which I went by the name Yeuwlwic; you can imagine that people had trouble adjusting,” Love says.

Chaos nods in full understanding. “Indeed.”

“But there is a slight problem with your ownership over us,” Love says as the necromancer does its very best to break the small string the two of them are connected by.

“Truly?”

“Yes, you see ... I have a very important errand to run which would include me disposing of this necromancer here. If you would be so kind to let me go for just a bit, I would gladly return once I’ve finished my business.”

Chaos’ features instantly darken in realization. “Oh, one of my treasures is a necromancer? The one you are tied to?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose it does look pretty object ... ish. Very well, I trust you, my minion-treasure, mind you are not a Treasure Minion; that is a rank that must be earned. For now you are simply my minion, who also happens to be a treasure, rather than one of my minions that looks after my treasures. Do not keep me long! I understand many seem to look at me as someone with horrible memory problems, but I cannot remember that ever being a matter, and thusly they must be wrong. So be on your way and remember to look out for any of those Royal Knights of the High Kingdom of Reinen; they’re a nasty bunch, and their name sounds foolish as well.”

Love smiles. “Oh, certainly. Thank you so much for your understanding, my overlord. I think it’s worth saying though, I think they usually just go by ‘The Royal Knights’ now, considering Reinen’s been abandoned for a long while now, at least thirty years considering The Sphere’s magic field’s been gone for around that time.”

“That so? Quite knowledgeable, minion treasure. I must say I underestimated your knowledge of their world. Just how old are you, if I may ask?”

“Now sir, you must understand it’s considered rude to ask a lady your age. Please allow me to be mysterious.”

His antennae perk up in shock. “Oh, I was unaware that you were a female treasure. My apologies.”

“No need, you as my overlord may insist that I tell you, and I will do so gladly if you so demand,” Love says with a wide, humoring smile and half-curtsey.

He holds up his hand in gentile fashion. “No, that will be quite unnecessary, though I do appreciate your willing loyalty. All aside, I do have further business today, so I will be on my way,” Chaos says as he points up to a door high up on a rainbow cloud. “The way to my tower is through that door. Can you go there without problem?”

“Yes, and I will do so soon. Thank you, my overlord.”

“Excellent. Goodbye, my two minions. May your souls ever be controlled within their proper bounds,” Chaos says with a nod before he steps up and gives Love a warm embrace. Love, now quite wide eyed being hugged by the arch-nemesis of the knights, hums gently in surprise.

“T-thank you, may your strength last as long as your life,” she says as Chaos releases her. At that, the High Overlord turns and leaps up at least a hundred meters up to the cloud holding his door; he then gives one final wave, and enters his door.

Love puffs out air, as if to laugh.

With the necromancer securely tied about her pinkie, she turn’s Everlock’s great brass knob.