Working out the particulars, such as making the church people provide the materials for the armor and what type of work I could get Mike and Isabella to do, didn’t really take that long. I didn’t actually need the growing crowd of religious folk for that long anyways but Sandra would love the company and my plans just kept getting bigger. I was on the hook for twenty more sets of armor after seven more days but that didn’t bother me. Staying busy didn’t bother me.

  Boris was more than happy to watch and participate after I eagerly shook his hand but his wife Lannie glared at me like I had just screwed them over even though they were the ones who approached me with the offer. She stomped inside, I assume, to get my wife to set me straight but I laughed on the inside. If anything, my wife is more stubborn than me, but she’s always on my side. I wished the horse-faced grump luck.

  She’d need it.

  Sandra had a way of turning those kinds of people back in on themselves until they argued their way onto being on your team instead of their own.

  Besides, the key phrase ‘till this craziness is over’ is open-ended enough that this crowd of suckers will be my gophers just long enough for me to get sick of them. At a glance, Isabella’s healing ability is the most valuable magical ability that they have between them; however, Mike could turn out to be an essential asset for two reasons. One, his ability to spot structural weaknesses would help me refine my end products post Alchemical creation, and second, having another man on the patrol with Elvis and myself would up our chances of getting home safely. I was certain I could get him up to snuff. His telekinetic capabilities made him a potential powerhouse.

  Using myself, Boris, Mike, and Isabella as mannequins for armor sizes since us four covered most people’s body size. I was average size, Boris was wide and muscular, Mike sat a lower weight being a bit skinnier than me, and Isabella functioned as a petite model. I made Boris my first test dummy as I fine-tuned the first set of three and then shooed him away to go keep watch at the front of the house while I worked on the rest.

  Elvis graciously decided to do all of the scavenging for the first sets of armor on his own and using that I managed to craft twelve basic suits of armor total. He chugged along gathering torn apart cars and car tires, street signs, piles of jean pants, metal jungle gyms, and oak furniture as base material while I worked on carefully crafting full suits of armor. The cotton from the jean pants served as the base layer to prevent rashes and also as the material for straps and buckles. The rubber was strategically placed to provide more protection against blunt trauma while I did my best to use the right amount of metal as a protective coating.

  Not everyone has super strength so making heavy armor for everyone isn’t the best choice. I did happily concede to updating existing armor for those with supernatural strength, anything to build up community good will while making myself beyond indispensable. Slapping extra plates of metal on top of existing armor isn’t really much to ask and would provide an easy way to just make the suits more durable. To be fair, I’d never really made armor before, so my first fifty suits or so should be uncomfortable as shit. What I would give to have some medieval armorer expert giving me tips so make my stuff miles better.

  Testing the armor out on Boris and Isabella took the longest as I had to keep adjusting the thickness of the outer steel layer and rebalancing and THEN readjusting the straps so that stuff fit properly. All in all, my crafting took three hours as I purposely worked at a leisurely pace, refusing to let my total energy levels get below sixty percent. And that was after fixing any weaknesses Mike pointed out in my stone fence with his ‘Discerning Eye’ ability. Having such a glaring strategic weakness on my property is something I just couldn’t bear to have at my back while I worked.

  Elvis just loved watching me work, going so far as to interrupt me with new ideas as to what new weapons or armor I could make for him. He tried to get Mike to theorize what sort of wonders we could create if we could get ahold of some cool people with awesome powers and synergize their talents with my own. But Mike wasn’t having it. He spent those three hours going back and forth between the inside of the house and watching the front with Boris to checking up on me when he got impatient.

  Sandra kept us all to task but never lost her focus on me. My beautiful wife quietly coasted by at least once an hour to deposit sandwiches or fried potatoes to keep my energy levels up. One time, she had us all drooling with one of her signature ‘poor dishes’, a thick potato and garlic stew. Sadly, she used up the last of the half and half creamer but I ate the filling lunch with the relish it deserved. I made a mental note to scavenge as much food as possible and do my best to find a way to come up with an Alchemical solution to refrigeration.

  “Boss! Boss!” Heavy thumps and Elvis’ shouting interrupted my work. “You gotta see this!”

  I turned to look down the street only to cover my eyes. Bright flashes of light, brighter than the sun, flickered as if a toddler were playing with the world’s biggest flashlight.

  “GOOD MORNING! IS THIS THE PLACE!? ALLLOOOO!”

  Squinting behind my fingers, mostly covering my eyes, I made out a strange figure casually walking down the street in tattered clothes. A very tall, beanpole of a black man with short dreadlocks jogged down the street. Most of him was covered in blood that steamed as it dried up and fell off.

  One second after his greeting, a raccoon crossed with a snake darted out from behind a rusting car. I watched, stunned, as the mutant beast snarled and tore at the man’s ankle but he didn’t even slow down. Instead, he blinded it with a pulsing flash of light that emitted from his finger, reached down, grabbed the fucker by the scruff of its neck, then tossed it into the air where he punted it to kingdom come. He caught another jumping out of a tree at him and three it twenty yards into a rusting car.

  Chunks of viscera splattered across the street. One bony chunk rolled into the gutter and Elvis watched until the gore came to a stop. He kept staring until the bloody bit stopped wiggling.

  “You wanna talk to this guy?”

  I held up a finger, thinking real fast. “Be nice, Elvis, but gimme just a minute. Just keep him busy.”

  Light. I saw this new guy use light. The fucker also shrugged off fangs and teeth that could chew through flesh and bone the way I tear tissue paper. His skin was essentially armor and not only that, but he’s strong enough to grenade slap living things out of existence. Most worrisome of all, he can emit flashes of light to distract or blind opponents. I don’t have an answer to the last problem.

  Remembering a junk pile, I quickly flipped through box after box and overturned bags until I found a small canvas bag full of sunglasses. “Yes!” I cheered quietly, grabbing them and returning to my Alchemy circle.

  Two minutes later, I walked up next to Elvis holding four items, two of which I handed him.

  “Early Christmas again,” I joked, putting my new pair of sunglasses on and facing the stranger. His big, white smile was at odds with his serial killer vibe. Then again, with all that’s going on, any of us could look like a freaking serial killer at any point in time. The wildlife was only getting more aggressive, and the only reason I could get any work done is because Elvis was actively patrolling the area. That and my own house was a living meat grinder masquerading as a tiny rainforest. I was more than a little freaked out when the rose bushes on the side of the house tangled up and ate a two-headed dog like a trapdoor spider with an attitude problem.

  Mr. Dark and Good Looking held his hands up with a huge smile. “I was brought heya! And heya, I am!”

  It took me a second to parse the thick African accent. Don’t ask me which country in Africa, cause there are many, but his enthusiasm is what caught me off guard.

  “Sorry, what?” Stuttering didn’t help my case but he didn’t care.

  Bringing his hands down, he held up one and slowly reached for his pocket. The dark stranger gingerly pulled out a small but brightly glowing translucent orb roughly in the shape of a walnut. “Don’t ask me details because you would not believe me but I have been given a vision!” He gently shook that ball of solid light. “This heya is a gift for your wife, long may she reign.”

  Elvis slowly turned to me with wide eyes, motioning to me, wondering if he should squish the man in front of us.

  I glanced meaningfully down at Elvis’ new pair of sunglasses and he put them on. My grip on my ax loosened as I twirled it, the weapon weighing next to nothing for my supernaturally enhanced strength.

  “Then I’m not asking,” I grunted, letting my ax twirl until the haft landed on my shoulder like a baseball bat. “I’m telling you that I’m going to need more details if you’re talking about my wife out of the blue while holding shiny things. I might get the wrong idea.”

  The bauble in his hand glowed with an intense white-yellow light, like he was holding a replica of the sun.

  No longer having to squint in the bright late morning sun, Elvis stepped forward with a growl.

  “Please! Please! Only peace, my friends. Please do not mis-undah-stand.” He slowly and carefully knelt down in front of Elvis and placed the glowing orb on the crumbling asphalt. “My name is Paul Mulenga and this is a gift, I am your man. I am here to help protect the queen, long may she reign.”

  “Stop fucking saying that.” I growled, scowling at the weirdness of the situation. Not that it was really any crazier than the world going to shit. “You’re lucky you ran into me first. Sandra would’ve blasted you into the next town by now.”

  “It’s surprisingly warm. And soft? No, not soft, that’s the wrong word. Smooth.”

  Elvis handed me the flawless orb. I hadn’t even noticed him picking it up. “Like a ball of sunshine,” he noted, “it feels like the first real day of summer.” His thick brow furrowed and his voice became a bit strange as he held it between his thumb and finger. “This . . . this is not meant for me.”

  “Of course not, large man. As I said, this is for your friend’s wife, long may she reign.”

  I glared at the newcomer and back to the miniature sun in Elvis’ hand. “I’m sorry, sir, again. We’re going to need a much better explanation before Elvis here hurls that thing into the river. That doesn’t look like something we want sitting around. It’s either valuable or dangerous or both.”

  “No! No! Please!” Paul looked aghast, clutching his chest. “Oh please, don’t do that.” He pointed at the sky. “Yoruba and Anansi had a great argument about the small meteor-” he said nodding at the glowing rock, “before Nyambe led me to it. Raguel pointed me here while the others bickered. Please, I will not fight against the commands of the Divine. I am just a humble medical technician looking for a healthy sized wife when all this started. Please, take this so that their attention is no longer upon me.”

  “Elvis, if he doesn’t tell us what IT is in five seconds, I want you to throw it into space.”

  “All I know is that it is a ‘sunstone’ and that it should be planted. Please.” Paul gestured at the blindingly bright rock. “I have been told that this will serve you well but not why or how. That is for you to figure out.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Oh come on,” I said, scowling at him. “You have to know something more. Nobody just walks up to random strangers and gives out gifts. What’s your angle?”

  Lanne stepped down from the front porch to stand next to Boris. “I heard an Angel’s name in there somewhere but the rest . . .”

  “Don’t worry ’bout it, lass — it don’t matther.” He put his hand on Lannie’s fist that was clenched around her mace. That glowing weapon was made of conjured hard light.

  “But Mansfield said-”

  Lannie’s eyes went wide as Boris crushed her mace with his bare hand. "Fergit what he said. He’s said loads’a tings we do an’ don’t agree wid. But him an’ Earl said this lot’re friends, an’ should be treated like it. I don’t see ’em trowin’ a punch now, d’ye?"

  “I mean no harm.” Paul said again. “I’m here-” He looked at me. “And I am your man. If there is work to be done, you can count on me. You need anyting, I’m heya.”

  Elvis sighed, pointing at me with his thumb. “I mean, I work for him and get food, shelter, and my needs met. But I have to listen to orders. Pretty good deal if you ask me.”

  At that moment, my wife walked out of the house with a pitcher of lemonade. “Sorry we don’t have any ice but it’s cold enough. Good thing we had those packets in the back of the pantry or it would be just water.”

  “Babe.” I said, trying to get her attention and out of hostess mode.

  “But it should taste good, I put a little extra sugar and lemon juice extract to make the flavor pop-”

  “BABE.”

  Paul stepped forward. “My queen! For you!”

  Sandra froze for a split second, her eyes darting from the sunstone and our latest visitor. I was puzzled at her almost stumbling towards the stone before she gracefully regained her stride. I forcefully stepped between Paul and my wife, snatching the sunstone from Elvis. Our latest newcomer took a big step back. Sandra casually flitted around me, handing him a glass of lemonade before making sure that the rest of us had one.

  “Nobody can get mad while holding lemonade. It’s bad manners.” My wife put one hand on her hip and pointed at all of us with the almost empty pitcher. Her tone was stern but I did catch that curious look of hers flitting back to the sunstone. Our house behind her vibrated as the plants covering it exuded a hungry air. Every single person, including myself, began taking sips of the deliciously sour drink. It didn’t help that some furry hateful thing was currently getting eaten on the right side of my house, screaming primal bloody murder.

  Lannie and Boris almost spit out their drink and Elvis turned whiter than bone.

  Paul looked at me, almost turning green, an impressive feat given how dark his skin was. “On second thought, you can give it to her. I’ll stay ova’ heya’.”

  Elvis stepped forward and clapped his big trashcan lid hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Just uh, finish your drink, hand the nice lady the glass back, and then move away from the hungry house.” My home seemed to rustle with agreement.

  Truth be told. I kinda wanted to go with them. But I had a shiny rock to figure out.

  Unfortunately for me, that’s when the sky opened up. Thunder cracked ahead of a rising wind that quickly gained strength. Within five minutes, the daylight vanished beneath storm clouds, and the rain began to fall—first in steady sheets, then in driving torrents. Trees bent and bowed in rolling waves as the wind howled louder with each gust. Inside, my wife and the group from the nearby church crowded into the living room, dining room, and kitchen. Meanwhile, Paul, Elvis, and I remained on the porch, silently watching the downpour sweep across the ruined street.

  “It’s days like this that I do not miss home.”

  Paul’s thick accent and soft voice made it hard for me to make out what he was saying as the wind picked up and died down at random intervals.

  “Huh?” I said, squinting as lightning struck in the distance. For a moment, it was as bright as day. Thunder boomed so loud that all other sound seemed to cease for several moments after.

  “The rain. We get much more of it during the spring but we have a long dry season. It is always green heya’.”

  “Shit! Rain!” My thoughts ran faster than my mouth as usual but the ongoing thunder gave me time to put the words together. “Elvis! Go down the street, three or four houses down. Get the rain barrels in the side yards. If you see any more of them, bring them over too.”

  “Got it.”

  “You are sending him out in dis?!”

  I turned to the stranger. “Yup. Like he said, Elvis works for me now. He follows orders and gets food, water, shelter, and Alchemically made weapons and armor. This relationship is on a trial basis right now but the half-giant has been super useful so far.”

  Paul nodded sagely. “You are generous. Would more hands to work be useful to you?”

  I let out a slow, deep breath. “Many hands make light work but I don’t know you. Him,” I pointed at Elvis’ bulk hustling away in the rain, “I at least saved his life. He owes me and it’s a good working relationship so far.”

  Thinking for a second, I drummed my fingers on the railing of the front porch. “You know what, go ahead and show me your status screen.”

  Without complaint or hesitation, Paul sent me his information. My eyes widened as I read.

  I looked him dead in the eye, holding the sunstone in my fist. “You know that you just gave me the thing that gives you a serious boost, right?”

  He gave his own tired sigh. “It helps me, but it was not meant for me.”

  With that out of the way and not much else to discuss, Paul joined me in my work, gathering and setting up the rain barrels that Elvis retrieved. Using my Terrastria, I molded the thin metal of the gutters so I could put the new piece shaped like a ‘Y’ that would feed more than one rain barrel. He could easily lift rain barrels that were full of water which was still just plain odd to see someone casually use super strength. We worked like dogs for an hour, gathering rain barrels and anything that could be used to hold large amounts of water.

  “Uh, it’s melting. And those chairs are melting too.”

  I whipped around, confused at what the hell he was talking about. I held up the sunstone to see that Paul’s finger was sunken into the side of one of the barrels. I squinted as he took his other hand and slowly scooped a handful of plastic out of the top lip of the barrel.

  “Shit!” He was right. The plastic was melting in the rain. Not only that, but the plastic lawn chairs in the neighbor’s yard were melting like taffy in the hot sun, softening to the point that they collapsed into puddles of green playdoh. The old white paint on the side of my house was streaked as the rain turned it into a washed out oil painting.

  “That doesn’t make any sense!” I sputtered, trying and failing to catch the brown plastic of the rain barrel. It ran through my fingers as more and more rain touched it. I looked at my boots. They weren’t melting.

  Paul’s whipcord thin build became apparent as his shirt melted off but his jeans did not. “My shoes! They’re gone!?”

  Looking down, I saw that my clothes and boots were not streaking as the rain ran off of them before falling into pieces the way that Paul’s clothes and shoes were. Most of his apparel had already dissolved into puddles at our feet. “What in the hell?”

  I heard screams come from the inside of my house. Fear shot through me. I pushed Paul out of my way, sprinting indoors. I crashed through the front door expecting to see violence. Instead, I saw thin streams of water pouring down through the cracks and small holes in the roof.

  “What’s going on?” Sandra screamed. “Why is it raining inside?” I could see holes in my wife’s shirt. Thinking quickly, I pulled my camo jacket off and put it on her.

  Boris held a cast iron pot over his head. “Metal isn’t dissolving!”

  His wife Lannie held our cherry wood cutting board underneath one of the rain drips. “But wood is fine, ya?”

  “I can work with that!” I yelled, sprinting out of the back of the house to the shed. “Shit! Shit!” Cursing didn’t do me any good. My shed was collapsing on itself. The asphalt shingles were curling in on themselves and the plywood was dissolving right in front of my eyes. I didn’t hear Mike at all as the rain dampened the sounds of his footsteps. He stood next to me for a moment, just watching rain melt the evidence of our modern world away.

  “Well, at least it’s not just your home.” He said, pointing out past my stone fence that stood victorious in the rain. The bastard was right. All of the suburban homes were slowly caving in. The roofs were melting. Vinyl siding was melting. The rubber seats on the kid’s swing a few doors over were melting. Mike held out his hands like a cup catching some of the rain.

  I let out a futile growl, shaking the water out of my eyes as I stalked angrily towards the dissolving shed. Tossing aside the crumbling and melting roof and walls, I opened up my toolbox to check. I picked up two hammers, one with a wooden handle and one with a rubber coated handle. Thinking twice, I just hauled the entire toolbox out into the rain and set it on my ritual table. Mike caught on to what I was doing and helped me lay out the tools.

  “Look, the hammer with the wooden handle isn’t melting at all but the rubber handle one is.” Mike said, wiping off the red goo that was rapidly thinning and running off the hammer. “Your screwdriver handles are slowly melting too.”

  “And those are made of plastic or some kind of hardened epoxy.” I said with a sigh. “Those drywall plastic screws, the small ones, have already completely dissolved.”

  Lightning cracked across the sky, giving the illusion of daylight again. Thunder shook the air just a second later.

  “Can you make roofing materials, tiles or long sheets of metal or stone?” Mike asked, putting the tools that survived the rain back into the toolbox. “Come to think of it, all the gear you fixed or altered with your Alchemy, none of that is melting.” He pointed down. “Your boots, which have synthetic rubber and plastic, are just. fine.”

  “What’s your shirt made of?”

  “Cotton.” Mike answered, tugging at the sleeve. He pulled his hand back from his neck. “That weird slick fabric the tag is made of melted off though.” He wiped his fingers on his jeans.

  “Speaking of melting,” I said, pointing at my roof. We both waited for another lightning flash. “See? That’s odd. I noticed it during that last lightning flash. The shingles melted away, and so did the plywood, but most of my roof, the structural decking part, that’s actual wood. I think it’s because my house is really old, almost a hundred years or so. It shouldn’t be as much work to patch that up compared to the newer roofs.”

  “You’re about to be the biggest construction job in town.”

  More skyshaking booms of thunder seemed to herald their agreement.