Order and Chaos

keep everything under wraps. Tell no one that Malcolm Vindictus is dead. In fact, tell them that he's healthier than ever and that you've received news that he will single-handedly dismember everyone, yes, both the enemy and his own army, if they don't win this.

The first thing that came to mind was covering up Malcolm's death; the only ones who knew of it were me and the gods. And while the gods could be expected to gloat, we didn't need to convince the enemy. We just needed to make them doubt the word of their own gods, which was something they were often inclined to do anyways. It was almost impossible to keep following the gods if you actually listened to what they said, after all.

But there was a problem. No matter how clever the excuse I concocted, Malcolm Invictus was a man who loved battle and bloodshed. There was no way he'd stay off the battlefield. If I didn't have him show up, the whole ruse would soon fall apart.

Put on your Malcom Vindictus disguise

Unless someone else took his place. Malcolm had a very convenient habit of addressing the army while wearing his highly imposing and face-concealing battle armor, so in theory, someone could acquire an identical suit of armor and take his place. Not permanently, just long enough to avoid the total collapse of our forces while we regrouped.

The main problem with this plan was that Malcolm Vindictus was not the sort of man to run from a fight, ever, and running from this fight was clearly the best course of action. So it was either get killed while impersonating him, in which case he'd probably kill you again in the afterlife, or have the whole charade fall apart as soon as someone starts asking questions. And the risks for the poor sap who was revealed as a fraud, well, they were enough that I was convinced I didn't want to be that poor sap.

Other thing that screws you: Gods, like people, can continue to haunt reality in weird ways after their deaths.

My train of thought was interrupted when I spotted the swarm of locusts in the distance. And the fire raining from the sky. And the frogs hopping all over the camp.

Of course we weren't going to get off easy. Even if the living gods didn't hold much of a grudge against us, the dead ones could have cast all manner of curses and plagues in their dying breaths. And most of those curses would be directed at us.

Whatever cover-up I was going to conduct of Malcolm's death would have to wait. There were more immediate issues to deal with, and I was essentially the top-ranking officer now, which meant I had to deal with them.

And I was completely unprepared for it. Desperate, I said a prayer to the only force that might be able to offer guidance against the gods themselves: Malcolm Vindictus.

I was very surprised to get such a quick answer back.

Malcolm Vindictus has headed to the divine planes to conquer the gods themselves, but by golly you better not get complacent because he's in the next reality over.

See! "Meeting his maker" can be a reverse euphemism!

"I can't believe I left a weakling like you in charge," he said. I couldn't actually see him glaring at me from under the helmet, but I could certainly feel it.

I was about to squeamishly offer an apology, but then I realized how inappropriate that was given who I was talking to. So I did the unthinkable and yelled right back at him.

"You got us into this mess! You went and took everyone higher up the command chain than me! How dare you show your, er, helmet here again after what you did!"

He was only marginally impressed. Better than I'd hoped, really.

"You don't realize how many of them I took down first. When we started, there were thirty thousand gods; now they number a mere dozen."

"And that means there's twenty-nine thousand, nine hundred and eighty-eight dead gods cursing us. All at once. And I have to clean up your mess! Though I suppose that's nothing new. You couldn't even handle basic enforcement on economic policy."

"I did not manifest all the way over here for a lover's quarrel, Commun. I came to warn you."

"If it's about the rain of fire, you're a little late."

"That is the least of your worries. I have crossed over from the other side - an easier task than it sounds after killing all five hundred gods in charge of maintaining the boundary between life and death - because the end of the world is coming."

I stared at him.

"The what."

"The gods agreed more than a century ago that they wanted to end this world. But they couldn't agree on how. So as a compromise, all the gods of fate worked together to guide one man's destiny so that he would declare war on the gods themselves, killing most of them so the survivors would have an easier time coming to a consensus."

I blinked.

"You mean to tell me, the gods planned this, and they're still sending thousands of curses our way?"

"Of course they did. Each of them expected to be one of the survivors."

"Naturally."

"In any case, I can hardly complain; they've rewarded me for my role in their plan with an eternal battle in the afterlife. And it is glorious. But I so dislike leaving unfinished business in this world, so I will be needing your help."

I watched a chunk of fire land not three feet away.

"We, er, might be a little busy at the moment."

"I'll keep it short. Kill the rest of the gods, save this world while you're at it, and whatever you do, don't let that bastard Milton take my throne."

"He was conceived legitimately, though."

"I thought I told you to look into annulling that marriage."

"It turns out you can't do that after one of the spouses has died."

"Whatever. The point is, that's what I need you to do. Now I'm heading back to face the greatest warriors of all time. Don't mess it up or I'll see to it that you suffer."

He vanished, and I knew it was no idle threat. Malcolm Vindictus was not about to let a little thing like death stop him from getting what he wanted.

I also knew that I was completely incapable of managing the army or the kingdom without him. I was an economist, for Vindictus' sake!

oh yeah why don't we just make malcolm's daughter the leader. where is she?

That said, he did have an heir that he didn't despise. Maybe I could hand this unpleasant job over to her, assuming we survived the various plagues the dead gods were sending our way.

Speaking of which, what exactly was I going to do about those?