Finn jolted awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. For a split second, the ghost of his cramped apartment lingered—that familiar smell of stale grease and broken dreams. Then reality crashed in as sunlight filtered through the leaves above, and he remembered everything.
"Right," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Magical naked teleportation. Because that's totally normal."
As he slowly sat up, a sharp report rang out from his spine, a loud pop that made him grimace in pain. The 'bed' he had been laying on was little more than a sorry pile of twigs and leaves, which left his old floor mattress feeling as soft as memory foam by comparison. There was some small solace in the fact that he wasn't entirely naked anymore; however, his current attire - a sort of makeshift loincloth constructed from leaves and vines that had quickly been woven together - looked like something one might have expected from a kindergarten student's first ever attempt at an arts and crafts project.
"My Lord."
The voice made him jump. There she was. Green-eyes. Straight-backed and serious as ever. Four others stood behind her in standard guard positions, their eyes upon him with an intensity that made him check if his leaf-shorts were slipping down.
"Morning," he managed, attempting to sound leaderly, but probably coming off somewhere between 'confused' and 'constipated'. "Any exciting developments in the thrilling world of watching me sleep?"
"No threats detected," she reported, expression unchanging. "We maintained constant vigilance as ordered."
"Cool, cool. Great job with the. vigilance thing." He stood, stretching out muscles that felt like they'd been tied in knots.
Around him, his other creations were busily occupied with their various tasks and activities. Some of them were gathering materials from their surroundings, and others were exerting their efforts in trying to create simple tools from rocks and sticks. Their determination would have been an inspiration to many onlookers, had it not been somewhat unnerving - it was like watching a group of supermodels trying very seriously to reinvent the whole stone age.
"Alright, hit me with the morning report," Finn said, immediately regretting his word choice as everyone turned to stare at him. "I mean, tell me what you found."
The green-eyed woman stepped forward. "We located a river three miles east. Clean water, abundant fish. However." She paused, and Finn's stomach clenched. "We lost six people to predator attacks. Bears and wolves."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. "Lost? As in."
"Dead, my Lord. We retrieved their bodies for your disposal."
Finn's breakfast-if you could call a handful of berries breakfast-threatened to make a reappearance. "I'm sorry," he said softly, guilt gnawing at him. Then, louder, "We need to be smarter about this. Set up patrols, warning systems. No more casualties."
The woman inclined her head slightly, her face as impassive and stubborn as a brick wall. And Finn wondered if she felt anything at all for her dead friends, whether it was just another thing to accept and check off on some mental to-do list for her.
As he listened to the rest of the reports, he began to see a pattern. This was rich, dangerous land—totally untouched by the hands of humans. Not a road, not a building, not even ancient ruins. Just wilderness, beautiful and deadly.
"Okay, here's the plan," Finn announced, running fingers through his tangled hair. "We're moving to that river. We need water, and I need to not smell like a gym locker. Plus, it'll be easier to defend."
His creations nodded in perfect sync - which, honestly, wasn't helping with the whole creepy factor.
"Gather anything useful," he went on. "And maybe see about making better clothes? I'm getting tired of looking like a discount Tarzan."
As they set to work, Finn closed his eyes and reached for that strange power inside him. Two hundred more creations appeared, ready to serve. The rush of power left him dizzy—like chugging an energy drink while riding a roller coaster.
By the time the clock struck midday, they were ready to set out on their journey. Finn took his position at the head of his motley army, trying not to think too deeply about just how surreal and bizarre this whole thing was. It was almost impossible to believe that here he was, a former tech support guy who had spent his days fixing computer problems, now standing as the leader of an army of superhuman creatures, wearing nothing but leaf-patterned shorts. Life, it appeared, had a very strange and peculiar sense of humor.
The trek to the river near killed him. While his creations moved tirelessly, Finn panted and stumbled like an asthmatic sloth. When they finally reached their destination, the sight of clear, flowing water almost made him cry.
"Set up camp," he ordered between breaths. "Build shelters, set up defenses. I don't want any more surprise visits from the local wildlife."
His fantastic creations scurried about with an efficiency that was hardly credible, expertly turning the formerly tranquil riverbank into a busy, noisy camp in the space of only a few hours. As the night's darkness slowly closed in over the scene, Finn sat easily beside the newly built fire pit, watching his strange and wonderful family as they worked with such evident industry.
These creatures he had so carefully made were, in every respect, incredible. They were tireless, possessed of an incredible strength, and entirely dedicated to their work and him. Amazingly, they needed neither food nor sleep to sustain them. They were resistant to disease, which is to say they were virtually flawless in nearly every imaginable aspect -- except for one glaring failing: they lacked all the charming personality of a telephone pole.
Reclining comfortably on his brand-new bed, which was only slightly superior to the older model he had previously used, Finn gazed upward at the magnificent stars. They shone brilliantly in the night sky above him, appearing more luminous than he had ever witnessed before, their brilliance unspoiled by the pervasive glow of city lights that often dimmed their beauty.
For the first time since his parents died, he felt something like hope. Here, he wasn't just another burnout working dead-end jobs. He was something more. A leader? A creator? A very confused teenager with an army of superpowered beings at his command?
Whatever he was, it beat explaining musical toasters to old ladies at midnight.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. They needed better shelters, weapons, maybe even some kind of government. But for now, Finn let himself drift off to sleep, the river's song mixing with the soft sounds of his creations at work.
His last thought before sleep took him was simple: "Really need to work on their people skills. And maybe pants. Definitely pants."