No Need To Say This Is A Part 2 Of This Other Comic

Kaufmo funeral

Pomni's words at Kaufmo's funeral

HAPPY 23RD BIRTHDAY DIPPER AND MABEL PINES (31 August, 1999)

hi fun fact i like unicorn wars LMFAO. posted this on my twitter earlier but teehee

What if: The Ancients were baked alongside the Beast?

(Read from left to right)

Bonus:

That's must hurt

this scene had no business being this unnerving what the actual fUCK

Bye Sweet Carole is a hand-animated horror game inspired by classic Disney movies.

Wishlist Bye Sweet Carole on Steam

what if optimus was a human teacher?

Well here is an interesting concept I am 100% going to go crazy with. This is a long one though so I'm going to break this up with a read more and a warning that this isn't going to go the way you might think.

Not So Normal Teacher

The Archivist in Optimus was bored.

Megatron had been quiet for over a year and not a spark had a thing to do until the Decepticons made a move. He had already reorganized the Autobot database three times and he couldn't exactly go wandering off with how much energon he used. He was stuck at base handling communications and mission assignment, and Primus, even the Matrix was antsy. He wanted something to do, anything really. And so after months of sitting around being driven half mad by lack of stimuli, he came up with an idea.

The Archivist in him wanted to teach, to preserve history, and to collect data. What better way to do all of that than by taking up a position as an educator? It was rather outlandish considering he was a Prime and from another world, but there was a school in the nearby human settlement hiring. He had no need for human currency nor was it particularly wise to go sign up as a teacher when the Decepticons could resurge at any moment. However he reasoned that if nothing else he would gain greater insight into human capability through his endeavors.

Ratchet was against his idea from the get-go but allowed Optimus to go through with it after he gave his reasoning and pointed out that he would actually use less energon if he kept his frame at base and worked elsewhere. Thus with Ratchet's begrudging assent, Optimus made himself a whole forged identity for his human holoform, plopped his real frame down in his berth, and got to work.

Orion Pax turned up to the interview looking his best, but despite his efforts there were still a few little things that set him apart. He was indeed professional in wearing a simple turtleneck sweater and jeans with a belt. However that was not what made the interviewer a little concerned, no it was fact that Optimus's hair looked like the American flag with the mixed red white and blue alongside the little markings on his face just under his eyes along with scars that had also transferred over. There was also the fact that his eyes were a little too bright, his movements a tad too stiff, and the way his voice seemed nearly melodic in nature.

However since Orion Pax managed to answer the interview questions perfectly, had a clean record, and was the embodiment of politeness and patience, he was accepted in short order. Thus Optimus got himself a job at Jasper Nevada Memorial High School as history teacher.

Orion Pax befriended the entirety of the teaching staff by the end of week one with his kind disposition, patience, and wisdom beyond his years. He assisted the math teacher in grading papers and even taught him a thing or two with all the patience in the world when the teacher began to struggle. He aided the English teacher by bringing her a cup of coffee and pointing out a small error in her class prep work. He helped the gym teacher get the court set up for the lesson that day and helped him organize the various equipment in record time. He stopped the science teacher from accidentally creating a deadly gas when the teacher passed out from exhaustion halfway through an experiment, leaving Pax to carefully clean up and then grade the teacher's papers for him. Then to top it all off, he assisted the music and arts teacher in her efforts to decorate her classroom for the school year.

The staff loved him, especially the school cleaners since Pax would always stay up late to help them clean despite their protests. He was the perfect co-worker, and quickly found himself as the most loved teacher once the school year started. His students were skeptical of the teacher who looked like he crawled out some sort of cosplaying event and had an American flag for hair, but they swiftly warmed up to him due to his manner of teaching.

Optimus hadn't actually done any real research on human methods of teaching, instead relying on his own experience. In a school as out of the way as Jasper Nevada High School, the regulations were not as strict and so long as students passed their exams, he was allowed to teach as he wished. He did have to adapt a few of his methods to account for human biological limits, but he quickly garnered the students interest with how he went about his teaching.

Using a holoprojector he adjusted to look more like a human one, Optimus, or rather Pax gave the children a more interactive experience. He was passionate as he showed them history in simulations and introduced them to old battles in complicated holographic maps. His classroom was covered in star charts and old documents, studies, and artwork. Every student was urged to find something historical that interested them and dive into it with all their passion and enthusiasm. No students were left unheeded and all their issues were accounted for. The social students were grouped together and given specific historical figures to study in a manner similar to what the archivists of Cybertron did. The less social were given special homework, being required to study a specific event and bring in all they had gathered.

Students with disabilities such as dyslexia and other reading or information processing impediments were personally tutored and grouped. Those who had issues reading were given a partner who would do the reading while they took notes and sectioned out data. Those who had trouble paying attention to certain subjects were given work in areas that had their interest. A child who found warfare to be of interest would be given to mission to look into the Art of War and compile an alternate battle plan for the assault on Rome. A child who preferred the more domestic texts was to come up with a whole biography that was time period accurate for a fictional character living in their chosen era.

Every student had their education specialized to suit them best alongside the general education Orion had them listen to.

Orion was not harsh, he didn't give homework in the manner of other teachers and instead gave the students one big project to complete over the year and smaller personal research projects to complete once a month. A good archivist doesn't rush his research, no, instead time and dedication is given to ensure everything is correct and proper. He did everything in his power to instill this into his students, never putting stern deadlines on anything and instead focusing on fostering interest and a desire for truth.

He wanted his students to love history, not despise it. He wanted them to learn from the mistakes of their ancestors and move forward. And most importantly he made sure to remind them to not be angry at the past and instead see it as an example of another time. For his efforts his students loved him.

It certainly helped that he tended to tell his students altered stories of Cybertron's history, changing bits and pieces to make it seem like a legitimate but long dead human civilization. His students were enraptured with his tales and the battles he made come to life with his projector. Even other teachers would come to listen if they had free time. However to keep his students on task, he only told them stories when the completed their other class's homework before his, thus leading to other teachers finding more success in their lessons too.

After particularly good performances from his students, he would quietly teach them pieces of his culture. He told himself it was just because it was something for them to do, but deep down he knew the real reason why he did this. He didn't want everything of his people to be lost if he were to lose the war. He didn't want everything his people did to be forgotten and washed away by the tests of time. If he was to fail... he wanted something to remain with his students.

Thus he taught them everything he could. He told the other teachers that it was from an ancient culture long forgotten that he was personally studying and come up with some forged documents to prove it. Then his students were introduced to the Ancient Cybertronian language and received extra credit for every work they submitted written in it. He altered the manner in which the glyphs could be processed and spoken while still keeping it as true as possible so that his students could speak it and read it. Then he offered them even more extra credit if they spoke the language in class.

It brought him no end of joy when one Rafael Esquivel made it his mission in life to learn and speak Ancient Cybertronian. If he wasn't long used to having to remain on task even while under increadible stress he would have devoted a great deal of his time to ensuring the boy understood everything perfectly. However he abstained and kept his focus, teaching all his students equally and making sure they were still learning their own history. If Rafael came to him after school to learn more, Optimus never rejected him and taught him happily, more than a little pleased when the boy's glyphs came out as perfectly as they could considering his biology when he spoke.

He also showed his students old dances from all across Cybertron. He altered them as much as he could and gave students different dances based on personality. Students got extra credit if they could perform a dance perfectly by the end of the school year. He never really expected any of them to do it, but by Primus he was surprised when Miko Nakadai turned up guns blazing and performed three different dances from different castes as perfectly as she could considering her biological restraints. She was a terrible study, but evidently her interest in dancing was increadible. Optimus may or may not have taught her a few more dances a little later just to see if she could do it, only to be shocked beyond words when she could indeed do it.

Lastly he introduced his students to Cybertronian art which had a heavy reliance on story telling. It was an end of the year project since his students managed to burn through the curriculum in less than six months and get mostly through the next year's work before the Principle asked Pax to slow down and teach them something else for a while. Optimus thought slowing his student's growth was ridiculous, but he complied and taught them how to engrave and paint in the manner of Cybertronians. It was shortly after he began teaching this that he was yet again surprised to find Jack Darby of all his students to be the one to perform best.

The boy was an excellent engraver, to the point where if Optimus were the kind of mech he might have even let Jack engrave his outer plating. He could get the glyphs nearly perfect every time and had a gift for painting that surpassed more than a few artists from Cybertron during the golden age. It shocked and awed Optimus more than he cared to admit, and much like with his two other exemplary students, he may have slid Jack over a printed copy of some other examples of Cybertronian art from the Autobot database.

He was a proud teacher, and a fragging good one too by any standard. But that was not all, he also cared deeply for his students and got to know all of them. Bonds were a serious thing on Cybertron, especially the ones found between mentor and student. Optimus took the time to understand every student he taught, to learn their likes, their dislikes, and what their situations were. By the end of his first year teaching he already saw his students as his little archivists. He stayed out of their personal lives as much as he could considering his place, but when needed he would answer a call for help.

A student who came in hurt would find their cast covered in loving little glyphs that spoke of wishes and prayers from Cybertron. A student who had a mental illness would be given plenty of small gifts and attention to help them look on the bright side. Students with body image problems were welcomed with love, always receiving a compliment when they entered. Every student was seen to and cared for, especially in the odd case where they came to him for help.

He said he wouldn't get involved, but he was a Prime, he couldn't leave anyone in need of aid. During the singular instance where a student called him in tears at the end of the school day weeping because of their abusive parent, Optimus didn't even hesitate. His holoform was reabsorbed and his real frame moved out. He transformed and drove as fast as he could until he reached the student's residence, at which point he remade his holoform, called authorities, and may or may not have busted down the door to get his student out of there before they could be hurt further.

Not a spark touched one of his little archivists. And while he did get a fine for trespassing and property damage, Optimus had no regrets. It certainly made him feel like his actions were justified when he found a small bundle of flowers on his desk a few days later from the student he saved.

The team slowly began to get a little worried for him when he began gushing about his students around base and keeping their little gifts. When questioned he had nothing but praise for his students and in the end the team just let him be. Optimus still did the work that was needed of him around base, so why argue with him when he was far happier than any of the team had seen him in centuries. Ratchet did warn Optimus not to get attached, but by that point it was far too late if the small pile of thank you gifts and other assorted thing piled on Optimus's workstation was any indicator.

His students didn't know, but he adored their gifts. Gifts were special on Cybertron, and so for every gift he received, he returned. His little archivists were in his own mind, the best. As such when Megatron made his reappearance two years later just as his first batch of students were graduating, Optimus was actually angry.

How dare the fragger turn up and put his little archivists in danger!? It was unforgivable, especially when because of Megatron's actions, three of his students turned up at base and Optimus had to try not to sputter. Jack, Miko, and Rafael, his three most invested students when it came to Cybertronian culture. What started as a harmless little subject quickly had the children connecting the dots when it came to the team.

They thought what Mr. Pax was teaching them was rooted from Cybertronian influence, perhaps from him unearthing something from Cybertron long ago. They didn't know that Optimus was the one teaching them and still turning up to classes part time every other day after Megatron returned. How was he supposed to not get attached even more when he lived two lives, one as Mr. Pax the history teacher and one as Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots, both of which interacted with the children?

Optimus: Jack, have you turned in your school work for the week yet?

Jack: No... I've been having some trouble with glyphs.

Optimus: Oh? What are you learning?

Jack: My history teacher Mr. Pax has been teaching up about a long dead civilization that seems to have been influenced by you bots. He's been teaching us the language they used.

Ratchet: *glaring at Optimus* Oh really? I would love to hear more about it.

Miko: Yeah! The glyphs are boring, but Mr. Pax also taught us dances! See, look! *proceeds to perform a dance from central Iacon*

Bulkhead: Wait, isn't that a dance used by the-

Optimus: *holding a servo over Bulkhead's mouth* The ancient civilization I assume?

Miko: Yep! Its super fun!

Rafael: Mr. Pax also taught us how to speak the old language. I think I am fairly proficient. *proceeds to speak fluent ancient cybertronian*

Arcee: What the frag!?

Ratchet: I do believe we need to have a talk Optimus.

GUNS !!!

Ford, are you aware your brother has 10 guns hidden around the shack?

Stanley: Shh, don't let Poindexter overhear ya! He's gonna kill me if he finds out-

Stanford: *Walking into the room, preoccupied with a demonic owl chick of some sort that's currently sleeping in his hair.* Ah, Stan, I see you're answering another ask from our blog. What's this one about?

Stanley: N-nothin'! *Switches to another internet tab quick.* Nothin' at all, don't worry about it, it's a question for me. Totally boring.

Stanford: Oh, really? *Raises brow.* Then why did the question start with 'Ford'? You know, my name?

Stanley: Uh...

*Stan glances around and starts to sweat bullets. How best to distract Ford? Then Stan grins. He knows just the trick.*

Stanley: Ya know... a more important question to ask, is... is the Patterson-Gimlin film legit?

Stanford: *A very intense, serious expression carves through his face. It's the face of a man with a strong opinion and just the right amount of ire to defend it, perhaps fueled by years of arguments over this very same exact question; a look akin to what someone on Twitter pulls right before they decide compassion and humanity is overrated, and being right is more important as they begin to rage-smash their keyboard.* Stan, I'm glad you asked. Because I think you're smart enough - and spent enough years as a conman - to know the difference between something real and something faked. The Patterson film is real, and I, Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines, the world's greatest paranormal scientist and cryptozoologist, will die on this hill.

Stanley: Yes, exactly! *Stan looks relieved that the distraction worked.* Of course I agree. I mean, why wouldn't I? You tell 'em, Ford! Tell the world how legit the Patterson film is. Preferably in a different room than this one with your, uh... *Stan looks at the demonic owl chick sleeping in Ford's hair.* Whatever that is.

Stanford: *Smugly petting said demonic owl chick.* Hm, a better idea would be to utilize our ask blog to educate the populace on supernatural concepts such as this. I always wanted a platform to extend my knowledge to the world. I mean, teaching math to a whale was impressive enough, but imagine the paranormal knowledge I could spread with the power of the internet! *He chuckles.* Bill Nye and Neil DeGrasse Tyson better watch out, because a new popular scientist in media is in town. Stan, for the sake of knowledge, I'm going to need you to let me borrow our blog laptop for the afternoon.

Stanley: *Sweating bullets again.* W-what!? Not right now, Ford! You can have it later when I'm done with this one question. Just... gimme a little bit longer-

Stanford: Science cannot wait, Stanley. Hand it over.

Stanley: Alright, fine! Just lemme type somethin' quick and- h-hey!

Stanford: *Ford takes the laptop away from Stan and starts walking off with it.* Great, you already have the ask blog up. Time to...

*Ford sees the question about the ten guns in the Shack. He pauses.*

Stanley: Ford! Ford, I can explain... just let me... just hand the laptop back over and we can forget-

Stanford: *His voice cold.* Ten guns, Stan? Ten of them?

Stanley: It's... it's not what you think!

Stanford: Stan, you do know Dipper and Mabel live here in the summers, right? And you're telling me that you have ten guns around the Shack?

Stanley: Ford, just... *His expression turns defiant and mad.* Yeah, you know what? I've got ten guns! What of it!? Go ahead and judge me, Poindexter! You've always been good at that, haven't ya!?

Stanford: *Eyes narrowing.* Oh, I'm judging you, all right. Stan, I'm sorry, but I have no choice other than to host an emergency family meeting. We need to discuss this with Dipper and Mabel immediately. They must know about this. And then we can rectify this dangerous matter.

Stanley: Ford, really, it's fine, we don't need-

Stanford: *His voice ringing through the whole Shack.* Family meeting! Family meeting!

Three hours later...

*Stan, Ford, Dipper, Mabel are in the living room of the Shack at the dining table, where they usually host their family meetings. Stan looks more pissed than he has all day, Dipper looks nervous and confused, Mabel looks excited, and Ford is standing up by a chalkboard on wheels, multiple rules written on it, and he looks quite pleased.*

Stanford: Now, one final time, let's repeat the Pines family gun rules before this meeting comes to an end.

Stanley: Sweet Moses, Ford, isn't this overkill?

Mabel: Don't listen to Grunkle Stan! I am 1000% on board with all of these rules. *She pets the demonic owl chick that was sleeping in Ford's hair earlier and gives it a cheese flavored chip to eat.* Nice job, Grunkle Ford!

Dipper: I think Grunkle Stan has a point, though. Grunkle Ford, no offense, but-

Stanford: No buts! Now, repeat the rules, everyone!

Dipper, Mabel, and Stanley: *Stan and Dipper looking both annoyed, and Mabel looking very amused, they repeat the rules aloud in unison.*

Rule one, whenever a cryptid, government agent, evil being, or any kind of potential enemy of the Pines family comes to the door, carry a gun.

Rule two, everyone living in the Shack shall keep a gun or similar weapon by their bed at night in the case of a nighttime supernatural emergency.

Rule three, do not be afraid to brandish a gun whenever anyone asks too many questions about Stan's criminal past, Ford's research and/or interdimensional criminal past, or threatens to hurt Dipper or Mabel, either their feelings or physically.

Rule four, all members of the Pines family and their employees must be trained to use at least three different kinds of weapons.

Rule five, there must never be less than thirty guns hidden in the Shack at all times, preferably two per room and three per bedroom. Ten is not enough, no matter what Stan claims.

Rule six, when in doubt, Ford has the last say on anything related to weaponry and defense related matters in the Shack. Or else.

Stanford: Very good. Does anyone have any objections? Wait. *He chuckles deeply.* No, of course you don't, because these rules are forged from hard-earned lessons from the three decades I spent in the Multiverse, and they make perfect logical, ethical sense and are foolproof from accidents. Don't worry, I'll make sure all of these guns are kept in protective, cheap plastic cases.

Dipper: And here I thought living in the Shack every summer was crazy enough already. *He sighs and lets his head drop to the table.* Seriously, this is dumb.

Mabel: Grunkle Ford, why are you so badass and cool!? Grunkle Stan never let us use any guns last summer!

Stanley: Gee, I wonder why? *He sighs, then goes back to typing on Stan and Ford's shared laptop they use to answer blog questions.* Thanks, asker, for askin' about the ten guns I had around the Shack. I'll have you know that all of this is your fault.

Luke mother like daughter.

Zoe unlocked the Accidental In.

Episode 49 Part 1 First < Intermission > Next Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4, Season 5 Ep 41, Ep 42, Ep 43, Ep 44 Ep 45, Ep 46, Ep 47, Ep 48, Intermission

Bonus:

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Crowns (fragment)

Now that you know Crowns and their characters, I can show you one of my favourite fragments. As a follower, Narinder persists in trying to regain power and, well… Lamb was predicted by most of them.

About Crowns: part 1 part 2

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Vol. 3, chapter 1: "Crowns"

Narinder was lying on the ground, as they expected. He wasn't breathing. Lamb glanced at the Crowns, but these were motionless. Their eyes stared blindly into space as if in fact they were just sculptures. Then Lamb looked over the followers. Someone was clearly wanting vomiting when he noticed the dead body.

Lamb raised a hand to their forehead and rubbed the space between their eyes. Then they sharply looked up.

"Everyone... get out," they growled at the followers, and they obediently began to gather.

"Shall we... take the body, leader?" one of the marauders asked hesitantly.

"I don't see a body here to take somewhere," said the Lamb coldly. "I see a follower sleeping on the grass."

"But..."

A look in the Lamb's eyes told the overzealous one: that any moment - and he and the new follower would switch places. He hurried away from this place. Lamb, having made sure that they were all obediently far from there, turned an angry glare at the Crowns.

"What were you not supposed to do?!" he exclaimed mentally, and this was redirected to the Crowns as a very loud scream by Red Crown. The artifacts of power twitched. If they had lips, they probably would have grimaced.

"We were supposed to stop him from reaching for us," Yellow Crown announced almost aggressively.

"You weren't supposed to kill him!"

"We didn't kill him," she replied. After a while it added. "He died himself. After a while."

Lamb was rubbed at the bridge of its nose again. "Cause of death?" they asked to Red Crown.

“It seems like a large electric charge has burned his internal organs."

"Blue, do you know anything about large electric charges?"

"I didn't do anything!" Blue Crown defended himself almost desperately. His domain was the broadly understood arts, including magic and science.

"Yeah... because you are too much of a coward and you are afraid of Narinder, even in this flawed form," Yellow sneered contemptuously. "It's not him, Lamb."

Lamb directed their gaze to the Green Crown. Their domain was chaos and wild forces of nature. This one tried to look as innocent as possible. Lamb's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

They was still silent. The rest of the Crowns glanced at it curiously.

"Okay! Maybe I exaggerated", Green finally grunted. "But he was already putting his dirty hands on me! I reacted instinctively... You could have hidden us," they said accusingly to Lamb. "Or at least apply a protection spell."

"No. He had to learn a lesson. Though I hadn't planned that his lesson would bring him to Limbo so soon." Lamb sighed deeply, then bent over the body. "Stupid cat... He could at least try to pretend that he is not planning this..."

"By the way, Lamb..." Yellow Crown's voice sounded sweet. "Why don't you just give him a moment... Let him sit in the world below, I'm sure the rest of the family are very happy about this unexpected visit and..."

"Narinder doesn't go to Hell for the gods..." Lamb announced coldly, focusing. "After his death, he lands in Limbo, chained, with chains I created for him out of faith and suffering of the followers of particular domains."

The Crowns were amazed. They exchanged slightly nervous and partly surprised or even terrified glances. Only Purple didn't look surprised, but only sighed heavily.

"You created... chains?" Yellow repeated.

"Yes. And Limbo inside the Limbo. You know... such a Limbo through which souls cannot pass on the way to hell..."

"Wait... you have created a place where Narinder is genuinely all alone and in addition chained with chains through which flows the suffering of all beings in all domains?"

They looked at them. They raised an eyebrow as if saying "what, am I indistinctly speaking?" For the first time, something strange appeared in Crown's eyes - something like fear, and in part even respect. If the Yellow Crown had a mouth, she would have whistled in awe. Blue seemed to be incredulous.

"It's... so cruel," he said. "I don't think even Heket would do something like this..."

"Right," said Yellow. And then she became a little worried. "But maybe..."

"Get him out of there!" Green Crown almost demanded. They seemed nervous. "If I had known I'd send him there... Even he doesn't deserve something like that! In fact, even if he touched me and picked me up, I would just refuse to cooperate. I didn't know he was landing in Limbo! Bring him back!"

"And you think what am I trying to do!" snapped Lamb. "You're distracting me! Shut up now!"

They closed their eyes, placing a hand on the dead cat's chest. Then they lifted it slightly, opening eyes. A light appeared in them, as well as between his hooves on the tips of his fingers and the dead cat's chest. The light in his eyes, however, soon turned red, and blood began to trickle from them down his cheeks, dripping onto the ground, as always with stronger spells and rituals. Narinder's body shuddered and lifted slightly into the air. Then it hit the ground violently - and the cat took a sharp breath, as if he were a shipwrecked man who had just been successfully resuscitated. He jumped up with fear in his eyes.

For a moment he looked genuinely terrified. He clearly didn't know where he was, his hands clenched into fists as if they were handcuffed. After a moment he saw the Lamb, his stern expression. The light in their eyes dimmed, and the cat saw an angry glare. Narinder glanced sideways at the Crowns. He swallowed.

"Oh-oh…" he said, then dropped to the grass. "Can I ask you for one more lightning..."

"Oh no!" growled Lamb, getting up. They grabbed his robe, pulling him to his feet. Narinder was surprised - he hadn't thought Lamb was so strong before. It mean, he knew they had great power, but he didn't think that physically, without using spells, they could lift him almost effortlessly. "What was that, Nari?"

The cat shrugged. "You can't be angry I tried," he grumbled. "You told me yourself where the crowns are. You haven't hidden them since then. I had to try. But those damn hats don't seem to like me," he growled.

"Are you surprised?" Lamb snorted. "You ordered the killing of their owners, and before that you mutilated them."

"Well... yes, but now they are no longer associated with them..."

He looked at Crowns. He had a strange feeling that they were making fun of him. Lamb, who was still hearing what the Crowns said and how they acted, narrowed their eyes.

"Yeah, you entertain them," they snorted. "And now you're coming with me."

With those words, they moved forward. The cat didn't move, standing there staring with undisguised hatred at the Crowns. Lamb waved their hand in the air and snapped their finger - and Narinder suddenly felt as if someone had kicked him. He was surprised, but after a moment's hesitation he followed the cult leader, growling curses under his breath.

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Tom 3, rozdział 1: "Korony"

Na ziemi, jak się spodziewało, leżał Narinder. Nie oddychał. Jego ciemnoszare futro wyglądało na nieruszone, oczy były zamknięte, wszystkie trzy. Jagnię rzuciło spojrzenie na Korony, ale te były nieruchome. Ich oczy patrzyły ślepo w przestrzeń, jakby faktycznie były tylko rzeźbami. Potem Jagnię potoczyło wzrokiem po wyznawcach. Komuś wyraźnie zbierało się na wymioty, gdy dostrzegł martwe ciało.

Jagnię uniosło dłoń do czoła i pomasowało przestrzeń między oczami. Potem gwałtownie podniosło głowę.

- Wszyscy... wynocha - warknęło na wyznawców, a ci posłusznie zaczęli się zbierać.

- Czy... mamy uprzątnąć ciało, liderze? - zapytał niepewnie jeden z maruderów.

- Ja nie widzę tutaj ciała do uprzątnięcia - stwierdziło chłodno Jagnię. - Widzę tu wyznawcę, który śpi na trawie.

- Ale...

Spojrzenie w oczy Jagnięcia powiedziało nadgorliwcowi, że lada moment, a on i nowy wyznawca zamienią się miejscami. Pospiesznie oddalił się z tego miejsca. Jagnię natomiast, upewniwszy się, że wszyscy posłusznie znaleźli się daleko od tego miejsca, zwróciło wściekłe spojrzenie na Korony.

- Czego miałyście nie robić?! - zawołał w myślach, a to zostało przekierowane do Koron jako bardzo głośny krzyk przez Czerwoną Koronę. Artefakty mocy drgnęły. Gdyby miały usta, pewnie by się skrzywiły.

- Miałyśmy nie pozwolić mu sięgnąć po nas - oznajmiła niemal zaczepnie Żółta Korona.

- Miałyście go nie zabijać!

- Nie zabiłyśmy - odparła. Po chwili dorzuciła. - Sam umarł. Po chwili.

Jagnię znów pomasowało nasadę nosa.

- Przyczyna zgonu? - rzuciło do Czerwonej Korony.

- Zdaje się, że spory ładunek elektryczny spalił mu wewnętrzne narządy.

- Niebieski, wiesz coś może o potężnych ładunkach elektrycznych?

- Nic nie zrobiłem! - broniła się niemal rozpaczliwie Niebieska Korona. Jej domeną była szeroko pojęta sztuka, w tym magia i nauka.

- Ta... bo jesteś zbyt wielkim tchórzem i boisz się Narindera, nawet w tej ułomnej postaci - prychnęła pogardliwie Żółta. - To nie on, Jagnię.

Jagnię skierowało spojrzenie na Zieloną Koronę. Jej domeną był chaos i dzikie siły natury. Starała się teraz wyglądać możliwie najniewinniej. Zmrużyło oczy.

- Słucham?

Nadal milczała. Pozostałe Korony zerkały w jej stronę zaciekawione.

- No, dobra! Może przesadziłom - burknęła wreszcie. - Ale już kładł na mnie te swoje brudne łapy! Zareagowałom instynktownie... Mogłeś nas ukryć - rzuciła oskarżycielsko do Jagnięcia. - Albo chociaż nałożyć zaklęcie ochronne.

- Nie. Musiał dostać nauczkę. Choć nie planowałom, że tak szybko jego nauczka sprowadzi go do Limbo. - Jagnię westchnęło głęboko, a potem pochyliło się nad ciałem. - Durny kot... Mógł chociaż spróbować udawać, że tego nie planuje...

- Swoją drogą, Jagnię... - głos Żółtej Korony zabrzmiał słodyczą. - Może daj mu jeszcze chwilę... Niech sobie posiedzi na dole, jestem pewna, że pozostała część rodziny bardzo się cieszy z tej nieoczekiwanej wizyty i...

- Narinder nie trafia do piekła dla bogów... - oznajmiło chłodno Jagnię, skupiając się. - Po śmierci ląduje w Limbo, zakuty w łańcuchy, które dla niego stworzyłem z wiary i cierpienia wyznawców poszczególnych domen.

Korony zdumiały się. Wymieniły lekko nerwowe, a po części zdziwione lub nawet przerażone spojrzenia. Jedynie Fioletowa nie wyglądała na zdziwioną, a jedynie ciężko westchnęła.

- Stworzyłeś... łańcuchy? - powtórzyła Żółta.

- Tak. I Limbo wewnątrz Limba. Wiecie... takie Limbo, przez które nie przechodzą dusze w drodze do piekła...

- Zaraz... stworzyłeś miejsce, w którym autentycznie Narinder jest całkiem sam i w dodatku skuty łańcuchami, przez które przepływa cierpienie wszystkich istot we wszystkich domenach?

Popatrzyło na nie. Uniosło brew, jakby mówiło "a co, niewyraźnie mówię?". Po raz pierwszy w oczach Koron pojawiło się coś dziwnego - coś jakby lęk, a po części nawet szacunek. Gdyby Żółta Korona miała usta, zagwizdałaby z podziwiem. Niebieska zdawała się niedowierzać.

- To... takie okrutne - oznajmiła. - Chyba nawet Heket nie zdobyłaby się na coś takiego...

- Prawda - zgodziła się Żółta. A potem lekko zaniepokoiła się. - To może jednak...

- Wyciągnij go stamtąd! - niemal zażądała Zielona Korona. Wydawała się nerwowa. - Gdybym wiedziało, że tam go poślę... Nawet on nie zasługuje na coś takiego! W gruncie rzeczy, nawet jakby mnie dotknął i podniósł, po prostu odmówiłobym współpracy. Nie wiedziałom, że ląduje w Limbo! Wezwij go!

- A co ja próbuję zrobić! - warknęło Jagnię. - Rozpraszacie mnie! Zamknijcie się wreszcie!

Zamknął oczy, kładąc dłoń na piersi martwego kota. A potem uniósł ją lekko, otwierając ślepia. Pojawiło się w nich światło, podobnie jak między jego kopytkami na końcu palców a piersią zmarłego. Światło w oczach jednak zaraz zasnuło się czerwienią, a krew zaczęła ciurkać z nich po policzkach, kapiąc na ziemię, jak zawsze w przypadku silniejszych zaklęć i rytuałów. Ciało Narindera zadrżało i delikatnie uniosło się w powietrze. Potem gwałtownie uderzyło o ziemię - a kot wziął gwałtowny wdech, jakby był rozbitkiem, na którym właśnie przeprowadzono udane sztuczne oddychanie. Poderwał się ze strachem w oczach.

Przez chwilę wyglądał na autentycznie przerażonego. Wyraźnie nie wiedział, gdzie jest, unosząc zaciśnięte dłonie w pięści, jakby trzymał je skute. Po chwili dostrzegł Jagnię, jego surową minę. Światło w oczach przygasło i kot zauważył wściekłe spojrzenie. Narinder zerknął w bok na korony. Przełknął ślinę.

- O-oł... - rzucił, a potem opadł na trawę. - Poproszę jeszcze raz piorunem.

- O nie! - warknęło Jagnię, podnosząc się. Szarpnęło go za szatę, stawiając na nogi. Narinder zdumiał się - dotąd nie przypuszczał, że jest takie silne. Znaczy, wiedział, że ma wielką moc, ale nie sądził, że fizycznie, bez używania zaklęć, jest w stanie go podźwignąć niemal bez wysiłku. - Co to było, Nari?

Kot wzruszył ramionami.

- Nie możesz mieć żalu, że próbowałem - burknął. - Sam mi powiedziałeś, gdzie są korony. Nie schowałeś ich od tamtego czasu. Musiałem spróbować. Ale te przeklęte czapki chyba mnie nie lubią - warknął.

- A dziwisz się? - prychnęło Jagnię. - Zleciłeś zabicie ich właścicieli, a wcześniej ich okaleczyłeś.

- No... niby tak, ale teraz już nie są z nimi związane...

Zerknął na Korony. Miał dziwne wrażenie, że się z niego nabijają. Jagnię, które nadal słyszało to, co mówiły i jak się zachowywały Korony, zmrużyło oczy.

- Tak, mocno je bawisz - prychnęło. - A teraz idziesz ze mną.

Po tych słowach ruszyło przed siebie. Kot nie drgnął, stojąc w miejscu i patrząc z nieskrywaną nienawiścią na Korony. Jagnię machnęło dłonią w powietrzu i pstryknęło palcem - i Narinder poczuł nagle, jakby ktoś go kopnął. Zdumiał się, ale po chwili wahania ruszył za liderem kultu, powarkując pod nosem przekleństwa.