“I think you should get that fixed” Eroth always had to get in the last word.

  —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  But it was true. He did need to get his arm fixed. But the healers were about a 15-minute walk from the slayer center. Thankfully, it was the middle of summer, and basic clothes would do. He might get some looks, but it was best to repair his arm now. The longer it festered, the harder it was to cure.

  Leaving the center, he was greeted with the bustling cityscape. This particular section was on the better side of town. Various trams rolled along tracks, their energy coming from green-lit tubes above. Each of those pipes carried the lifeblood of the city. Liquified divine essence powering a variety of contraptions. The trams ran universal engines and didn’t care what type of fuel was used. For now, green means it blended nature and life deities. The offal leaving the exhaust smelled like the forest. An occasional petal or other bits of plant matter fall out of the pipes. Nature gods were usually the first to form and were easy to capture. The bulk were more pacifist than outright killers. Additionally, it kept the region smelling fresh and clean. Its lingering magic keeps the flowerbeds and other greenery alive.

  It just made Jax want to move so badly. Back home, they had to use the cheap stuff. Tubes of sickly yellow or congealed black were pumped into their district. The yellow came from those aligned with pestilence, while black was from death gods. The fumes were not outright harmful, but you didn't want to be sucking them down, either. The oily residue clung to the walls, giving it a dirtied appearance. Not to mention the pungent stench that lingered in the air, it wasn’t uncommon to see folks walking around in masks, doing whatever they could to avoid the lingering clouds of muck.

  As he walked along the sidewalk, he glanced up at the sky. Unlike the previous realm, it was impossible to see the sun at night. So much essence was used up that a translucent smog enveloped the metropolis. It was a perpetual smog that clung to the sides of buildings. Only the richest could afford to live above the cloudline. Waking up each morning to see that beautiful sunrise. The rest of the scum forced to live in the shadows of their towering structures.

  But it was still the best they had. Before the last god was slain, War was common, Diseases ran rampant, and life was in a constant state of struggle. The school had taught them all that gods were fickle and greedy creatures. Sending off their followers to die in their honor and setting off major plagues when not adequately worshiped. Others are just absolute brats who created famines for fun. Some only used their powers to slip into the pants of mortals, tricking them into sex. Not to mention, their champions rarely had the proper ideals to lead a country. Gods would collude to overthrow others, only for that coalition to devolve into petty infighting. It was a nasty cycle that mortals had to bear the brunt of.

  After slaying that death god, he found the texts to be valid. For all the suffering living in the city's slums, at least he was free, and at least he could forge his path. If he wanted to help a divine offshoot, he could, but it was never required. Those various entities were constantly monitored. If they ever got too strong, they were executed on the spot. The world was done with deities, and no fledgling gods were kept out.

  Crossing the street, he noticed a new set of bulletins were set up. Fancy lights caught the eyes as the slayer mascot held out a can of tomatoes.

  “Nothing beats a god like a full stomach!” It said on the billboard.

  They must have paid a ton of money to get Iris up there. She was a high-tier slayer that dominated any room she entered. Jax had caught a glimpse of her at one point. Her hair defied gravity as it floated behind her. A feeling of static crept across the skin in her presence. She was usually called in for the heaviest of targets. An absolute monster when it came to wiping out the divine.

  Stolen story; please report.

  She even carried cameras on her power suit, recording her various fights and quests for all to see. Sure, they were highly edited to keep them exciting…, but nobody wanted to watch the stakeout sessions, which was a good way to boost her numbers.

  He kept walking and heard another ad on the radio. It was another slayer clearly reading off a script of some kind. Not a single bit of emotion carried through his voice.

  “Tired of paying for fluff you don’t need. Well, stop in for some savings at Clothes for Less. No brands, Just Clothes — Sponsored by Just Greg”

  Of course, it was fucking Greg. That man had the luckiest kill in decades. He was only on a Tier A mission and fought a false god. That stupid thing had stumbled upon an ancient power source from an extinct alien race. He never even opened up the device or spent any time trying to figure out how it worked. Instead, he gave his body a basic form of immortality and some muscle. Unable to be killed, he slowly conquered the surrounding regions and became a god king. Thankfully, even the most basic power armor could smash through the reinforced muscle. Greg didn’t kill him outright. Instead, it just broke every bone in the man’s body.

  Upon returning with the source, they realized just how powerful it was. It now sat in the high districts, powering up their various holograms and other recreational activities. He didn’t know how it worked, but it didn’t matter. The city came in to buy the device, and Greg was awarded handsomely. The good thing was he wasn’t an ass about it. Like Jax, he was just trying to move up in the world, and he did.

  With all those credits, he could buy top-of-the-line equipment and join the best squads in town. Realizing his foolish luck, he called himself Just Greg. A way to show that he didn’t really have an ego like the rest. He always encouraged those he met to call him Greg. To keep that image, he appeared in public with his weapons. He was just a man in a t-shirt (Sponsored by Clothes for Less).

  Ignoring the rest of the ads, Jax continued on his way. This particular section catered to the various slayers. Weapon shops had pieces of god-gear on display–their prices conveniently missing. Some were surgeons who specialized in adjusting divine aesthetics. They could remove unwanted characteristics without touching the benefits for a substantial fee. Jax knew of some water-breathing upgrades that typically added gills. But honestly, who wanted gills? Other powers could ignite the eyes, while cool tended to scare those nearby. Of course, they also made basic adjustments. Nose jobs, shin jobs, and every other type imaginable.

  But that wasn’t what Jax needed. He was looking for a true healer. Somebody who could fix his missing arm. They were pretty rare and very powerful. Most were former slayers, specifically targeting light, nature, and other recovery-type deities. Even with them seemingly benevolent, they could be quite a force when enraged. Hell, Iris had battled a God of Life and Death at one point. One of her squadmates had their protections broken, and with the gentlest touch, the unthinkable happened.

  A rapid rise of tumors and other growth rippled through their body. His power armor bent and snapped as the bulbous flesh grew within. Tendrils of twisted skin erupted from the cracks and swung at his former teammates. Each one forms a different weapon. The first was a club-like appendage and covered jagged teeth. The second had a sharp, bony tip that quickly skewered through defenses. The last was a tube-like thing that sprayed bile and other unsavory fluids on the combatants.

  But he didn’t die. He cried out in pain as his form continued to morph. His head pulled back, the undulating flesh pushing it upwards onto a gorey spike. Higher and higher, it rose as various eyestalks appeared on the base column. He kept begging his teammates to kill him, but their weapons did little good. Each cut only led to more growth. Only when Iris stepped in and ignited the man with her power did his suffering end.

  It was a brutal battle as the thing never killed. Instead, it just warped the squad into agony-filled flesh beasts. By the end of the fight, only Iris and two others remained. They brought back the surviving members, but nothing was to be done. The city humanely ended their suffering before immortalizing their sacrifice at the slayer center.

  But those who could stomach the horror of life gods were granted potent powers. Those same skills to distort flesh could be used to repair. It wasn’t cheap, but it would be necessary if he wanted to continue. After a few more minutes of walking, he finally saw one of the local healer stalls.

  “Helio’s Holistic Healrium”

  “What kind of name is that?” Jax muttered

  But it looked cheap, and that was that. Stepping inside, he could only hope that Helio could help him.