John followed a maid down to the dining room.
The maid opened the dining room door for him and watched him squeeze himself through with a wrinkled scowl.
Jean's dining room could easily be described in a single word. Opulent.
It has large glass chandeliers studded with diamonds and a curvy mahogany dining table with plush chairs.
And one Frankenstein of two chairs with their arms removed and wooden boards running across them.
"Sorry about the chair. I couldn't find any in your size in the house. And we both know why I couldn't order them." Said, Jean
Amazane wasn't exactly functioning in the current war-torn state of the world. And all the retail stores had been burnt to hell.
John nodded. He was glad that he even had a chair to sit on. Even in his own home, he didn't have chairs. He always just ate while sitting on the couch.
"It's no problem." Said John
Jean smiled.
"WELL THEN SIT! EAT!" He screamed as loudly as possible.
Usually, John would be a bit agitated with people screaming. But when it's about food... He enjoyed it a bit.
John sat on his plywood and chair mix and surveyed the food before him. There was a massive plate filled with steak and potatoes for him. And three smaller plates filled with a chopped-up assortment of meats next to his for his dragons.
"YIP!"
"YIP!"
"YIP!"
John's dragons jumped from his back and onto the dining table.
They greedily stuck their faces into the food.
John did the same.
"Jesus. When they call you people pigs, I didn't think they meant it literally." Said, Jean
John's face shot up from his plate. He looked at Jean for a moment. He pushed his plate forward a couple of inches to make space for his massive hand. Then he reached over and grabbed the spoon that had been placed on the table.
He took it in his hands. And flicked it into Jean's face.
Jean held his bruised forehead while looking at John with a look of hurt.
Without saying a word, John pulled his plate back to himself and stuck his face in it.
Like a vacuum, he sucked the food into his mass.
Not much else happened during the meal. Or at least. Not much else that John noticed happened.
With a grunt, John pulled himself from his chair.
"Jean. Where do you want us to sleep?" Asked John
"The maids will show you to your bedrooms." Said, Jean
John nodded.
"Okay."
"SOMEONE SHOW THE BIG ONE TO HIS BED ROOM!" Yelled Jean
A maid hustled over to him.
She quickly led him up to the third floor of the mansion. John's room had a large fluffy bed that didn't sink nearly as much as it should for John's weight.
He didn't even hesitate to fall into bed the moment it was revealed to him.
His dragons fell with him.
And then he fell asleep.
...…
...
…
.
Hand's.
He held it in his hands. What it was?
He didn't know. But he held it. His hands held it, and they were steadfast.
Hand's. They were in his hands.
"Why do I hold these things?" The man asked himself.
"Because they are yours" he answered.
"I don't want to hold them." Said the man
"I DON'T WANT TO HOLD THEM!" The man screamed
"THEY'RE YOUR'S!" The man screamed back
He didn't want them. They hurt him. He just wanted the unoxygenated efficiency.
Efficiency. Isn't life ineffectient? Why do we need it?
"Just let it go."
Sloth.
Oh…
The man realized something.
He was named John.
" let it slip."
"I..... I don't want to."
Without even a moment of warning, a flare of green light filled the scene.
The envelope swells once more.
....
Assassination. I never thought I'd be an assassin. I always thought I'd end up an accountant. Or an engineer. Something like that. But an assassin. Never in my wildest dreams.
Nathanial stood above the dead body of a man who was bald with a crown tattooed onto his skull. He had an empty look in his eyes as he looked up into the sky.
The empty look made sense, after all. He was dead.
It wasn't even that hard to do, too. All Nathanial had to do was find a woman that he was implanting. And take her hostage. Then, his need to feel like the hero came into play. He came into Nathanial's carefully prepared death trap and got torn to shreds.
If he hadn't tried to implant in so many women, maybe it would be different. But regardless. He was dead now. He could repent in the place down under.
Nathanial looked down at his pale white fingers. He had thought that he was invincible. That his new system made him some kind of god.
Then, a man grew an eye from his double chin and burnt a hole in his chest. It was madness.
This world was madness. Nothing made sense anymore. And Nathanial wasn't sure if it would make sense ever again.
I need to find him.
That man needed to die. Any source of madness. And a threat to his power. They all needed to die. He would kill them like he killed the man below him.
He'd find John's weakness. And he'd use it to the most overt extreme.
Nathanial left the warehouse that he had rigged with a myriad of traps. He disarmed the traps as he went.
He walked out into the empty streets and plopped his butt down into a Ferrari that was parked there.
He reached down for the car's wires and moved them in a certain way to get the engine going. Then he stuck his foot onto the accelerator.
First, he would report that he'd completed the mission. Then he would try to find John. That's if he wasn't in prison, after all. He did burn that town down with his laser chin.
Either way. Nathanial would find him. And Nathanial would make him dead.