#shadow ranch cake

[nancytoomanyquestions]

Look what I made!!

[moonlitnitely]

The only thing I thought of when this vanilla extract thing came out of hand

[i-shouldnt-steal]

I’m making a cake but the recipe neglects to tell me how long to put it in the oven. Time to Shadow Ranch it by baking it in small increments. Fingers crossed I don’t burn my house down.🤞

[hetalia-club]

Hetalia Stardew Mod Summary Hot Link

Characters (Will be updated as it's posted) America Canada

Mod Details (Note all of this only exist inside my head unfortunately)- All Characters are Romanceable. They have no rival love interest and they will not lose their personality or hobbies after marriage so you don’t feel like you ruined their lives or stole them away from anyone. They will for the most part carry on as usual just with a bit more favor towards you New Events: Firework Festival- Takes place on Summer 4. This event is only attended by The Hetalia characters living in Cindersnap Forest. You Enter Cindersnap Forest at 10PM-12PM on Summer 4 to Trigger the Event. Brew Fest- A mock Octoberfest held at the Café where they all drink coffee instead of beer Enter Cindersnap Forest on Fall 6 at 9AM-3PM to trigger the event. Must be downloaded alongside the: More Crops Mod and Even More Crops Mod to get required ingredients for recipes & Stardew expanded for the space upgrade. The town of Cindersnap can function as your main source of shopping & Conversation Much like how Ridgeside Village & Stardew Valley operate. The characters do converse with the Main Stardew folk but for the most part do their own things. New Buildings: Houses with secret rooms, locked doors and Easter eggs. Maybe you click on a globe in someone’s house and it says “It’s a circle, that’s the earth”.

Cindersnap Coffee House: This is a Café/Bakery that is directly contributed to by each member of the Cindersnap Forest dwellers. Their Role with the bakery will be listed within their bio if they have one. Here you can buy coffees, Latte’s, Matcha, Mochas, and espresso shots along with few new Items like: Croissants, Tiramisu, Pretzel, Apple Pie, Cannoli, Blueberry Scone, Custard, Sugar Pie, Bee Sting Cake, Red Bean,  Buns and Cheesecake that are nods to the Hetalia character’s origins and their recipes can only be obtained from befriending a certain character. The Café/bakery is Owned and Operated by multiple characters.

Brew House- At 7pm all the Characters of Cindersnap disappear into the back room of the Coffee House. Where a Speak Easy is hidden and they will stay there hanging out until 11 and then will all go home. You can only get an invite by getting at least 6 hearts with everyone in town and then you will get an anonymous letter giving you the password saying you have passed the vibe check. Inside you can buy Alcohol from Romano who works the bar because the Coffee House does not have their liquor license and they have to operate this underground.

The Ranch-ery- Owned and Operated by Alfred & Matthew. Matthew runs the counter on Thursdays & Tuesdays and the store will operate as a Nursery and sell only trees, fruit trees and berry, herb bushes (See More crops+ mod) You can buy singular fruit here but the prices are steep you are better off just buying the sapling itself. Alfred operates on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Open from 9am-5pm Monday-Saturday and the shop will operate as a Ranch selling full grown cows, milk, milk buckets, hay, and heaters. The store is closed on Sunday.

Mystic Brews- An oddities shop located inside the wizards tower ran by a shadow creature that you can only gain access to only after befriending England, It focuses on gems, mushrooms, potions and some very rare items like the magic wand for a hefty sum. Seeds n’ Such- a general store with all your seasonal seed needs operated by China. Not much to say about it it’s a pretty straight forward shop.

Paella Stand- in the summer/spring Spain comes to town from Calico dessert to run his street food cart he will live here in town for these two seasons but he doesn’t like the cold so he will go back to Calico in the fall/winter. He sells churros, paella and spiced hot chocolate. All these foods give major speed and energy boosts but the catch is you can’t buy it with money and similar to the trader in Calico to have to trade him for gems.

[clueingforcooks]

Making the Shadow Ranch cake.

[just-a-madrigal]

You are worth more to me than 10,000 treasures put together

Secret of Shadow Ranch

Nancy Drew Embroideries

Frances’ favorite flowers and the flowers on her favorites:

- Sunflower crackers

- Poppy on her beaded bag

- Harrison’s Yellow mentioned in Meryl’s journal

- Lily on her favorite stationary

- Tulip from the marzipan design on the cake

- Daisy from the stitch on her favorite shawl

This piece is now one of my favorites. I tried a technique known as “needlepainting” for the first time, and I love the results! I like how this almost looks like it could be a piece of decor found in Shadow Ranch, maybe even something Frances stitched herself. I worked on it while camping in New Mexico, so it’s even got authentic dust and everything! The process for these is so meditative and I get to dwell on and think about different aspects of the game while I work, and this allowed me to dive deep into the love story between Dirk and Frances. How glorious to love and know someone so deeply, I think this storyline is one of the most compelling and even believable (in some ways! Looking at you, that one post about all of these puzzles for loved ones ending in near death experiences) in any of the games. Love you Dirk and Frances, and love you especially Bob 🐎

[nitrozem]

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ♥♥♥

Thanks for the ask!

Kinda wanna talk about Marisol AKA "Sunny"

1.) She's practically her Dad's little shadow, she likes helping him on the ranch and going fishing with him. So she's always liked being outdoors and taking care of animals

2.) They have one goat named Pedro and he's Sunny's favorite animal friend. She wishes she could bring him into the house but her mom wouldn't be happy lol

3.) She hates going to school. She keeps to herself and sometimes kids pick on her for being the weird kid from some rural area. She tries not to let it bother her, but sometimes she comes home crying, running to her Dad. (Then he makes her some honey cake to help her feel better)

4.) She wants to learn how to ride a horse but is kind of too afraid to try at the moment

5.) When she goes to collect eggs from the coop with her dad, they will count each egg in spanish like a fun little game.

[puzzles-are-fun]

Why so many eggs?

I'm replaying The Secret of Shadow Ranch (it's my favourite ND game and I've been replaying the older games recently).

I'm on day 3 and wondering why Nancy has to gather 6 eggs every single day of the game. The only food that (that there is any dialogue about) requires eggs is the birthday cake Nancy makes for Tex on Day 2, which only uses up two eggs.

Does everybody on the ranch always eat eggs for breakfast every day? Why does Shorty need six eggs every day?

[science-lings]

Prompt idea! One of the Links birthday! (Could be Time or Wild, both of them got confusing ages)

None of the Links were known for doing things halfway. In fights, they worked like a well-oiled machine, with impeccable skill and attention. None of them ever had to worry about their backs being exposed because there was always someone there to protect them.

Even when setting up camp, they all had their jobs that tended to change enough to keep everyone happy. Except for cooking, Wild was the only one trusted to do that. Though he usually employed the use of another hero's help to assist him with preparations. Perhaps someday a few of them would learn enough to cook something on their own.

This is all to say that the moment whispers of Time's birthday reached them all, it was destined to be quite the event. Behind the old man's back, plans were concocted. Though, they could only convince Time to go patrol with one of them so many times before getting suspicious and they ran out of paper from Warriors' diary after a few days of passing notes.

Still, they managed. Warriors and Wind were in charge of the whole affair, seeing as they were the ones who knew the date of Time's birthday in the first place. They took the job incredibly seriously, making sure that everyone was involved in some way.

Finally, the day had come and the plan spurred into motion. First, Four faked being sick, ensuring that they'd have a late start to the day, giving Wild enough time to make them a hearty breakfast. Full on pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, Wild even made a fresh wildberry syrup and whipped cream made of Lon Lon milk that he saved special from their last visit to the ranch.

Most of the day passed normally, all the monsters they ran into were easily disposed of, then the fun really started.

After a rivetingly pathetic performance by Four, they decided to set up camp nice and early, they were too far to make it to the closest town anyway.

Warriors went with Legend and Hyrule to distract Time for long enough that preparations could be completed, and several 'accidents' were planned to waste plenty of time. Wild started on the cake while Sky frantically finished his wood carving present that he'd only been able to work on at night.

Four and Wind furiously cut up little pieces of ribbon to stuff into both the smithies and Sky's gust bellows, hoping to create an explosion of confetti when the time came. They were also figuring out how to rig some deku nuts into decorative smoke bombs.

Until it was time to make the frosting, Twilight was sent to watch the other group from the shadows, to make sure they didn't come back too soon.

When Wolfie caught a whiff of warm vanilla, he headed back to the campsite quietly, satisfied that the other Links would be occupied with Hyrule stuck high up in a tree.

Twilight, being the perfect equilibrium of strength and stamina, was the perfect person to whip up the frosting. He wasn't bothered by the vigorous whisking for minutes at a time or by the powdered sugar dusting his tunic and wolf pelt.

They all helped decorate the cake, Wild with the swirling frosting and the rest covering it in berries, intermittently popping one in their mouths as there seemed to be more than enough to do so.

When it came to the final touches, Wild paused.

"Have we ever figured out how old he is?" Piping tip pointing at the top left of the cake, getting ready to frost the message.

"No..." Twilight muttered after a moment of thought, "You could probably just go with 'Happy Birthday', his age doesn't matter."

"I have a better idea, but you guys can't look until he gets here." Wild smiled mischievously. It made Twilight and Sky share a nervous look but ultimately figured what Wild had in mind wouldn't be too bad. At worst it would be a joke that wouldn't land.

"Get ready to bring them back, I think we're ready," Wild announced after a couple minutes of focused silence.

After a long few minutes of waiting for Wolfie to return with the other half of the group, the whole time being spent keeping Wind away from reading what had been written on the cake, the only thing that managed the feat was letting the kid hold one of the gust bellows turned confetti poppers.

Finally, the time had come, the sound of footsteps neared and the anticipation for the moment heightened considerably. All their planning and scheming had come to this. Their passive conversation had stopped as they prepared for the rest of the group to exit the treeline.

With a pop and a melodic whoosh, the air was suddenly filled with shimmering flecks and sparkling smoke as well as the congratulatory voices of eight heroes.

Time only recovered from the shock for a moment before he read the writing on his meticulously decorated cake, and he laughed. The same loud dad-laugh that he did when pranked one of the others, mostly Warriors. He had to lean over for a moment to catch his breath after the fit, prompting the others to see what the cook had written on it.

'Happy 69th Birthday Gramps'

Well, at least Time seemed to like it.

Send me prompts?

[victorluvsalice]

Welcome back to the Chill Valicer Save, where we have hit Summer Thursday! And, as promised at the end of the last update, the gang spent this day out and about again, this time taking their Van Liddleton Snacks stand out to the OTHER major desert world in this game. How did that go for them? Let's find out –

-->Started the day around 2 AM, with Smiler jamming on their guitar and Victor and Alice snoozing in bed despite being at full energy (because, you know, their awesome bed is awesome). After stealing some sacred candles from Victor’s inventory to put around the séance table in the séance room (one behind each chair – it’s an idea that I came up with while working on the last Chill Valicer Save update here. Doesn't it look fucking awesome? :D), I woke Victor and Alice up and started deciding on tasks for everyone –

Victor of course had to Repairio one of the wind turbines (because at least one is always broken), then Transportalated himself down to Toothy’s pen to feed it once I noticed the cowplant had its cake tongue out. Once that was sorted, it was time for breakfast – leftover banana split waffles, om nom – and a trip to the bathroom! All in his underwear, because for some reason Victor is allergic to dressing himself half the time. XD

Alice had to use the bathroom first, then got sent outside to take out a twisted tendril, clean up various dog poops, and put away Shadow’s chewed-up bird ball (which – she put in the box with Smiler’s herbalism ingredients, for some reason O.o). Hey, her werewolf instincts were demanding she go outside anyway! Alice then got her own waffles out of the greenhouse minifridge (pumpkin spice in her case) – and took them into the bathroom so she could talk to Victor while she ate. *facepalm* Guys, I love that you two are comfortable enough to do that, but – really? At least I made sure Victor remembered to wash his hands mid-conversation!

And Smiler had it easiest – after a quick break to play with Shadow (who had seemed spooked about something and thus needed some cheering up), they just played guitar until they maxed out their Guitar skill! :D So now they are the best at guitar and can play avant-garde songs. We’ll have to figure out what one of those sounds like later. XD

-->With everyone more or less settled into their morning routine, I took a moment to save (under a new save branch – like to do that every so often, just in case), cleared some of the alien fruits out of their inventories (I got just over $11,000 from just the quill fruits! O.O), then made a few purchases – specifically a jewelry-making bench and a nectar-making tub! Because I bought Horse Ranch and Crystal Creations and I’m determined to use activities from them, damn it. XD I had Smiler head out and start smashing up grapes to make grape nectar (they took a few tumbles, but ultimately found the process rewarding enough they developed a Like for it) while Victor and Alice finished up their conversation in the bathroom (because you can't rush things in there). Victor then took a moment to Scruberoo the grill (while I put some nearly-spoiled food that was sitting out there on the back porch in the fridge), then I forced him to put on actual clothes before sending him to go tend his greenhouse. XD Alice ran off to watch a movie while I wasn’t looking, but her attempts at entertainment were stymied by a creepy doll appearing in front of the TV – fortunately, Alice knows very well how to deal with creepy dolls and just kicked it apart. I then had her clean up all the plates around the place (including the one she’d left in the bathroom – sink slots officially have a dark side) –

[to-drew-list]

need help brainstorming a nancy drew games tattoo!! my faves are shadow ranch, icicle creek, danger on deception island, last train, danger by design. something simple, no words… kind of subtle! i like the idea of the picture agate or the tulip from the shadow ranch cake but i want more ideas!!

anyone have thoughts

[acesknights]

Final Prayer

- oc x canon [Warlock x Phillip Graves]

Word Count : 782 Summary: Warlock spending his final moments questioning the idea of there possibly being a 'higher being' tags: Character death,religous topics

Note: babies first time uploading a drabble onto tumblr instead of ao3 so i have completely zero clue what i am doing, possibly out of character too but i wrote this at 3am with a lack of sleep.

Warlock didn't consider himself to be religious at all.

Religion is one of those topics that really only get brought up in dire situations, in life or death situations, or even sat on your grandparents porch on a warm summer evening. It's always one of those things that aren't really thought about in a day to day life until you're sat down with another person and either one of you brings it up.

"Shadow 0-1, this is Warlock - how copy?"

Being religious means that you spend your life believing and hoping that a higher and greater being exists and is watching over you. A being that knows each sin one has committed and each good deed one has done.

"Warlock this is Shadow 0-1, hear you loud an' clear" 

He never considered himself religious, he was brought up in a Catholic household yet never really took in the lessons all those Sundays at church had tried to tell him. 

Religion was a topic he never delved upon in life. He'd witnessed his own fair share of soldiers cry out for their mother's or even start praying before having any remaining will of life get drained from them moments later. 

Religion is one of those topics that really only get brought up in dire situations. 

"Sir- you ever consider yourself religious..?" 

Yet here he was, layed down on a patch of discoloured and drought-induced grass, his ghillie suit caked in a mixture of dried up mud and his own blood. 

"I'd like to consider m'self religious warlock" 

Adrian was said to never consider himself religious.

Yet in that moment he had caught himself starting to shakily place one of his hands onto his heart, its pace unsteady - ready to finally go to rest in the confines of its bone and muscle cage. 

And prayed. 

Prayed to make it out of this one. 

Prayed to be able to see his loved ones face just one more time. 

"And you? You consider yourself religious at all hun?" 

'Hun' 

By holy god would he miss hearing those three lettered words of endearment. 

"warlock?.." 

How long has he been like this? Laying on the grass, a gaping hole in his side, a hole that housed the bullet from the enemy. 

Lucky shot

Time felt slow, too slow. Painstakingly and unbearably slow. 

Was a higher being taking pity on his poor mortal life? Was a god watching over him? 

For once Adrian hoped so.

Hope

"Adrian?.. Speak to me dammit!" 

"phil, sir- 'm not making it" 

A small chuckle had left his soft lips, a chuckle he never thought he'd have to hear. Something he didn't think anyone would have to hear at all. Did bleeding out always take this long? 

He'd never consider himself to be the type of person to get down on their knees at an alter and pray away all their sins, ask for forgiveness from the lord or even pray for others. Yet here he was, tears pricking up in the corner of his eyes, rethinking his entire life and his actions in the last few moments of his rather short and uneventful life.

"not enough time.. For assistance.. Just want to... hear you talk a little bit more"

Talk, he can talk, talk to his dying lover who promised they'd end up retired, sat on the old wooden porch on Phillips Country ranch in the southern parts of texas. Perhaps with a dog, a German shepherd would've been nice. Perhaps even a few grey hairs starting to show up in either of their hair.

Oh would he have loved to see that ranch Phillip promised him the night before that he'd take him to. The same night they were sitting in his office, sharing a small bottle of brandy.. or was it whiskey?

"You did good dear, proud of ya - i'll take you to that ranch another' time hm?" 

Everything sounded muffled for him now, his vision fading in an uneven and unfamiliar pattern. Shaky breaths leaving his lips as he weakly nodded. 

Our Father, who art in heaven,

Breath in

hallowed be thy name;

thy kingdom come;

Fade out

thy will be done;

on earth as it is in heaven.

Fade in

Give us this day our daily bread.

Breath out

And forgive us our trespasses,

Breath in

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

... 

Breath out. 

Warlock didn't consider himself to be religious at all. The thought of religion only crossed his mind once more as he lay on his grass covered deathbed. Small,sharp,breaths filling his ears as he finally accepted the fact that this higher being is granting him the time to forever lay and rest.

[bowtix]

snack headcannons for Sonic characters

Now this right here is why I love my followers

Sonic - Chili dogs or Chips (( I could possibly see him eating cool ranch Doritos specifically ))

Tails - Mints or Peppermints or Candy Canes (( he’ll eat them in his free time when no one is around ))

Knuckles - Grapes or Mangos (( I HC that mangos grow on angel island and would be farmed for food sources ))

Amy - Cheesecake or Any type of sweet (( I just imagine she really loves sweets ))

Shadow - Coffee Beans or types of espresso (( he’s a coffee man after all ))

Rouge - Red Velvet Cake (( a pretty cake for a pretty sonic character ))

Omega - Mortal oil (( can’t have food let him have mortal oil ))

Eggman - A bitter coffee or bitter tasting foods (( it’s for his evil plans later, even villains need something to wake them up ))

Blaze - Cheesecake aswell (( Amy got her into cheesecake ))

Sliver - Old tires or rubber (( but Fr he’d prob like vanilla ice cream ))

Espio - Bitter Coffee

Charmy - Hot chocolate or chocolate in general

Cream - Chocolate or ice cream

Vector - Prob something a DJ would eat (( I have no clue what DJ’s eat btw lol ))

Jet & The Babylon Rouges - Various snacks

Vanilla - Sweet tasting coffee

Metal Sonic - oil (( just oil ))

(( if I missed a character, you can add your own HCS about them ))

[3xm-draconic]

DOVAHJOJO: a bizarre adventure.

Saturnalia Sorrows.

Jotunn Jostjarna or "Jojo" is a young boy living on his family's farm in Cheydinhal, Cyrodiil. Tonight will be the last Saturnalia he will spend with his family.

On the outskirts of Cheydinhal city sat a little farm, Jostjarna Ranch. The cozy little farmhouse sat beside a tiny pond with a field of grazing cows on the other end, inside the farmer, his wife and their young son were all waking up to the morning of Satinalia.

“Happy Saturnalia Mama, Papa!” the young boy chipped as he excitedly hugged his parents goodmorning, “good morning and happy saturnalia to you too, Jojo” the boy’s father said mirthfully. 

“Would you like to come with me to pick up some ingredients for tonight’s feast?”, “yes mama” Jojo hopped excitedly down the stairs and into his winter boots.

 Cheydinhal was beautiful this time of year, the whole city was decorated in cheerful red and blue hues, candles lit up the streets and the scent of baked goods filled the air. 

Snow was piled high all throughout the city and children took to making snow-soldiers, snow-aedra, sledding and throwing snowball fights. “Mama can I go play with the other children?”, “of course, just come back when we call you” his mother smiled and as she watched her son gleefully run off to play.

 “Hi guys, is it ok if I play with you?”, “ew no!” a girl shrieked, “why should we let an elf like you play with us?” a boy snickered, “yhea, go find another snooty Altmer to play with!” another boy laughed.

Jojo held back tears as the bullies ran away laughing at him.

“I-I’ll play with you” a scrawny boy with bright red hair said, he was hiding shadows and was dressed in fine clothes “what’s your name?”, “Jotunn Jostjarna but people call me Jotti or Jojo for short” he grinned. “What’s your name?”, “Cicerolli Zeppli but I like being called Cicero for short” the boy said.

The duo made a snow-soldier with a bucket for a helmet, pebbles for eyes and a carrot for a nose, “carrots are my favorite food” Cicero hummed “and sweetrolls”.

“You should try my Mama’s carrot cake sweetrolls they are fantastic!” Jotti beamed.

Jotti heard his mother calling for him.

“Oh I gotta go, but here take this, consider it a saturnalia gift” Jotti said as he wrapped his patchwork blue scarf around Cicero’s neack, “this…f-for me?” Cicero said in tears “thank you”.

Jotti and his mother returned home to feast, they dined on roasted venison, vegetable soup and holiday treats like birch cookies and sweet nogg. “Are you ready to open your presents?” his mother turned to him and laughed a little as she saw her son had a mustache of sweet nogg on his upper lip, “I am mama, WAIT you should open my presents to you first!” he excitedly hopped about.

“We can wait to open ours, you go ahead and open yours” Jotti’s father chuckled.

The gift from his mother was a ring that regenerated his magicka and the gift from his father was a strange dagger “whoa dad what is this made of?” Jotti eyed the blade amazed, “skyforged steel, I saw a vendor selling it, he had come from my homeland of skyrim”.

“Papa, do you think I’ll ever get to visit skyrim?” Jotti’s big blue eyes sparkled with joy, “perhaps one day” his father smiled and rustled his son’s deep brown hair.

A loud banging at their door took their attention away from the night's festivities. 

“Oh? I wonder who that could be?” Jotti’s mother pondered as she got up to open the door, “Jojo…head into the kitchen and be quiet” his father said as he reached for his sword which rested on the fireplace mantle.

Just as Jotti had reached the back door he heard an awful sound, his mother screamed and his father shouted for him to run, Jotti did as he was told and booked it out the door.

He looked behind him and saw strange elves like his mother dressed in black and gold robes or in golden armor.

“Go! Kill the hybrid abomination!” one of them, a cruel looking woman ordered, “yes head justicar Elenwen” her men replied as they chased after Jotti.

Jotti ran, he ran like the freezing wind.

He ran into the forest and dove into a frigid river to escape them, his half nord blood gave him some resistance to the cold.

Jotti kept running even after he thought he had lost them.

Eventually he grew weak, he could not run forever.

Jotti collapsed in the snow…

Jotti awoke later in a temple, the priestess, a kind argonian woman, told him he was found by the guard and that he was in the city of Bravil.

Jotti stayed at the temple until he had recovered, while recovering he learned that the empire was being invaded.

The people who had killed his family were the Aldmeri Dominion, the Thalmor.

Jotti left the temple and now lives on the streets…but fate smiles kindly on him.

[spookyspaghettisundae]

I Got Plans for Tonight

In the hot and dusty winds of the desert, dead fields surrounded the ranch. Where the setting sun cast its dying rays, shadows danced inside the decrepit remains of a chapel.

Old rusting husks of cars lined the dirt road and circuit before the ranch’s house. It sometimes felt like they multiplied in number on some days, thinning out on others. Today, it felt like half of Nevada’s old wrecks had gathered here to attend court. A graveyard of cars to celebrate a strange king.

Unlike the myriads of metal carcasses, picked clean for spare parts, one single vehicle stood out, intact, parked near the porch. The Way King’s beaten-up old pickup truck rested there, cooling in the shade, caked as always with layers of dust.

Sand and stone crunched underneath the wheels of Michael’s van as he pulled up into the circuit, riding the gentle curve until he parked his chariot next to his King’s truck.

He remained sitting still for several moments, surveying the quiet ranch. He peeled a stick of chewing gum from its wrapper, then popped it in his mouth. Artificial strawberry flavor exploded against his taste buds, and he slapped the outside of his door twice before exiting the vehicle.

Halfway to the ranch house entrance, he paused. Stared into the distance. The recent grave on the dead fields no longer looked fresh, even though the shovel used to dig it still stood staked in the dirt like a simple headstone.

Where Klemens and Michael had buried one of the Way King’s victims alive.

“How does that make you feel?” Klemens asked.

The gaunt silhouette of his master stood in the shadows of the porch, rubbing his hands with a rag.

Michael had not heard the old man emerge from his house.

“Pleased?” asked Klemens again. As Michael dithered to answer, Klemens’ words kept cascading out. The German refugee’s accent surfaced more with every word. “I always wondered how you feel about your handiwork, my boy.”

Michael paused from chewing his gum, shielded his eyes against the blinding light of the red sun, and smiled.

“Would it surprise you to hear that I don’t take pleasure in taking lives?”

The motion of rubbing wizened hands against a greasy rag froze.

“No,” said the Way King. “It is common for men to do work as a means to the end. Lucky is a man who finds joy in his work, but not all men are so lucky.”

Michael turned fully to face his king, and bowed his head in reverence.

“What about you, my King?”

The silhouette shook his head.

“I take pride in some of the things I accomplish, but I do not cherish every difficult decision I make.”

Michael gestured to the dust on the road, and the metal husks behind him, and the recent grave.

“How did it get this way, my King? Is this the world you envisioned when you took to its throne?”

The floorboards thumped as Klemens descended from the porch. Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he neared.

Brows furrowed amidst a roadmap of wrinkles, and the Way King’s eyes glistened with sorrow.

“We envision many things to be better than they turn out to be. When I did what I did, I was not afforded the luxury of youth, or idealism. I always knew there would be a cost.”

Michael shook his head this time. “Forgive me for asking, but did you choose this squalor for yourself?”

Klemens stared him in the eyes. A burning gaze.

Magnetic.

Powerful.

“I was inspired by the great Jesus Christ,” said Klemens. “Now, please, do not misunderstand. I do not see myself as he, or as some kind of saint. But the principle of one man shouldering the burden for all the others, for suffering for all of them to alleviate their suffering—it made sense to me at the time.”

Michael flinched at the thought.

Not one for religious beliefs, he nevertheless felt a brief pang of regret. Some part of Michael liked Klemens. And he here he stood now, having done almost everything he needed to do to become his personal Judas Iscariot.

Chewing the gum a few more times as he chewed on an answer, he masked his regret by playing with fire.

Risking to expose his true intentions, hoping to bury his true feelings underneath a philosophical rebellion.

“I don’t know if the world needs another martyr. And I wonder if the way the world is going is because when you bleed, the world bleeds. You fathered this world, and I’m starting to think it has… inherited your suffering. As above, so below.”

Klemens stood frozen still, like a statue. Half a head shorter than Michael, old, and with what felt like only years left till his end, the Way King nevertheless exuded a majestic and overwhelming presence.

He smiled. Michael felt compelled to mirror it.

Klemens said, “I am very grateful for what this great country has done for me. I decided to change very little, and only weed out the… criminals who escaped justice. Do you feel I have steered you wrong in killing some Nazi-Schweine to bring about a new world?”

Michael shook his head again.

“No. The people you had us execute… I don’t question your judgment.”

“But you question my judgment over the world I dreamt up?”

A pit formed in his stomach. Michael paused from chewing, licked his lips, and pointed down the dirt road again.

“I think your dreams are distorted, my king. Blinded by faith, blinded by… I don’t know. Just look at all the potholes on your HIGHWAY, look at… look at all the trash and all the filth piling up. The plastic and metal refuse, and the human garbage we snatch up and dispose of to power our rituals. How many people go missing, never to be found again—not for sake of searching, but… because people are hopeless? Nobody cares anymore. Everything is ruled by the almighty dollar, and all dreams go to die in the growing poverty of this country.” Michael took a deep breath, and Klemens did nothing to interrupt him. “Like your homeland in the past, America has committed its own genocides, and I have seen a future in which there are more to come. If this is the world of your dreams, my king, then we need to do something about your dreams.”

Klemens listened with the patience of a saint. Even allowing for several beats and breaths to be taken after Michael had concluded his torrent of disapproval.

Michael shuddered.

Did he know? Did he know of the betrayal he plotted? Could he sense it? But there was no such thing in the stories of such kings.

Klemens smiled again, sending more shivers down Michael’s spine.

“You are not wrong, my boy. Even ascended as I have, I am but a man. You may think me blasphemous to compare myself to the savior, but it is a limited comparison. I am no savior. I am only a man. We are all but men in this vast cosmos, and no matter how desperately we try to shape the world into a better place, we are all prone to mistakes. Prone to… delusions.”

One of those wizened old hands—with dirt under the fingernails, and stains of grease from endlessly working on the clockwork heart of THE HIGHWAY—clapped down on Michael’s shoulder.

“I am not much more longer for this world, my boy. One among you will take my place, and bring about a world I couldn’t even dream of.”

A fat lump of nothing formed in Michael’s throat. He swallowed, accidentally swallowing the tiny lump of chewing gum with it.

He shook his head. Placed a palm on Klemens’ hand.

“I said it before and I will offer it again—I can extend your life like I have for others,” Michael said. “Just say the word and—”

“No,” said the Way King with the gravity of the moon. Thunder clapped from the cloudless sky. It continued to rumble in Michael’s heart for the next few seconds. “You are not wrong about the state of this world. That is why we need Agent Parker and that book. With her on our side, one of you will use the jade book to change the world for the better.”

Tears welled in the corners of Michael’s eyes.

He had been working so long to undermine and usurp the Way King that he never thought to consider Klemens might invite someone to ascendence—to take his place without conflict.

Michael had sacrificed so much. So many.

People he cared about. All in the way of his necromancy, all for the purpose of shaping a new world. A world of his dreams.

The tears tasted salty when they met his lips.

Klemens smiled again; that eerie knowing smile. A callused thumb wiped a tear from Michael’s cheek.

“I believe Jericho would be suited to dream up a world we cannot even imagine. And he would need someone of your wisdom, patience, knowledge, and visions, to guide him,” Klemens said.

Michael swallowed again and the pit returned to grip his stomach.

And twist. Mercilessly twist it.

“Jericho?” Michael’s face contorted with unmasked disbelief as he repeated that name. That damned name. “Jericho?”

“I have given this a lot of thought,” Klemens said. “If I am to abdicate, I would want to pass on the torch to someone of radical thought, of someone who is not afraid to let the past burn down when fire takes, to guide people around him to safety, and build a new future upon the ashes.”

The pit kept twisting, churning, until Michael almost felt sick to his stomach.

Jericho?

Jericho Kane?!

Was he out of his fucking mind? That fuck-up?

Almost as if he had heard his thoughts, Klemens continued. An almost musical tone mingled with his words, as if the very thought amused him. “He is unwise, still, and impulsive. He will need all the advice and help he can get, but my belief is firm, he would make a good king. He has seen many hardships that shaped the way he is. For him, a crown would be no greater burden than the ones he already shoulders, but a new opportunity. Trading one weight for another, and understanding the depth, the gravity of his decisions. Unlike men like us—men with visions—he has no delusions about himself or the world. He could make the next one… a better one. Such is my belief.”

Michael burned. Invisible hellfire scorched his body, searing the sweat away from his pores. A silent fury smoldered, deep within, but he knew better than to give in.

He never gave in to such impulses.

He took a long, deep breath. He exhaled, venting some of that anger.

Then he remembered: Jericho was trapped in the House of Change, together with that insipid woman, Karma. They would lose their minds.

And Michael… well, his puzzle pieces were all locking into their proper place.

He took another long, deep breath. As he exhaled, he vented the rest of all that sudden anger.

And the fire was gone.

In its place, a cold and calculating void remained. Where the shadows roiled.

Michael smiled. A genuine smile, smiling to himself—knowing his plans would come to fruition soon, his visions a reality awaiting eager hands to shape it—

And he lied.

“You are… you… it’s strange, a truly strange choice I never would have considered. But you are right. Jericho might just be the right choice to continue where you left off.” He stared at the metal husks of the cars, and the dirt road. As he let the smile fade from his mien, he added, “I will do my best to guide him to where he needs to be. To where the world needs to be.”

Klemens returned that smile and patted Michael on the shoulder—like a father, proud of his obedient son.

Michael spoke again, “This is a most fortuitous time for us to speak about this, because I have very good news, my king. Why I came here…”

Klemens’ weary brows lifted. His bleary blue eyes sparkled with expectation.

“Yes, you guessed right,” Michael said. “I have finally located Agent Parker again. She is currently at the Molly Stark Hospital in Ohio. Shall I arrange for us to deliver her here?”

Klemens swiveled with an energy that defied his age.

He slapped the rag against his own palm and shook his head as he met Michael’s gaze anew.

“No. I will summon her here myself.”

Michael nodded and dug around in his pocket to retrieve a tiny red plastic bead.

It looked like something broken off a cheap toy or piece of children’s jewelry, but it thrummed with power. It teemed with the wrath of eleven ghosts, bound to it by Michael’s magick.

They silently screeched in anticipation, dreaming hate-filled dreams of release.

Yearning to find her.

To find Agent Parker. To her, they reached out to, pin-pointing her precise location.

The tiny red bead dropped from Michael’s fingers into Klemens’ palm. It weighed almost nothing, yet it disobeyed the laws of gravity. It did not bounce in Klemens’ hand.

As if it bore the weight of a boulder.

The old man’s fingers closed around it. He stared at his own fist in disbelief.

Kicking up a dust cloud in the distance, a black Lincoln town car neared, trailing down the endless alley of vehicle carcasses.

Both Klemens and Michael only paid it a passing glance.

The Way King said, “I will use THE HIGHWAY to bring her and her companions here immediately. The time for letting others do my work for me is over. This is such an important moment that I must do it with my own two hands.”

Michael smiled.

He had foreseen this event.

In visions, he had seen Klemens in the backrooms of his ranch house, deep inside the labyrinthine heart of THE HIGHWAY, where intricate meshes of copper and steel and brass parts made up the living walls. Where occult machines hissed and ticked away as they clicked and churned in their indecipherably complex operations. Shifting and changing the network of roads with each pull of a lever, each pressing of a switch, shortening paths, and elongating others, all in perfect mathematical balance.

Aided by his automaton homunculus Fritz, Klemens toiled away in that vision, hovering over strange clockwork mechanisms, operating his Magnum Opus in a final ritual, with the homunculus clone of Parker sat upon his throne in the center, to channel the summoning with complete precision, and deliver the real Agent Parker to his doorstep.

That very vision… it still stuck as clearly in his mind now as it had a year prior.

Michael had been counting the days, wondering when everybody would finally conspire to turn his visions into a reality.

The Lincoln had almost reached the circuit. They glimpsed FBI Director Collins as the man behind the steering wheel.

“Will you need me here?” Michael asked.

Klemens cocked a brow.

“Things should go peacefully. But you are kindly invited to stay and witness this incredible moment. I would have thought that you of all people would have wanted to bear witness. We are standing on the precipice to a new world, after all.”

Michael feigned a sigh. He shed another genuine smile, knowing his plans were all falling into place. All visions coming true.

At least the ones he desired.

“Unfortunately, I got plans for tonight. Many people seek the counsel of the Oracle of New York, and the personal sacrifice it takes to power such sorcery is endless toil, I’m afraid.” Staring Klemens in the eyes, he added, “Besides, I’ve all seen it already, if you catch my drift.”

Klemens emitted a raspy chuckle. He clapped Michael on the back.

Gravel crunched under wheels where the Lincoln rolled up to them. Collins cut the engine and emerged from the vehicle.

Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Even with his jacket off, he looked miserably hot in the rest of his suit.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “I’m sorry to say, we’ve learned nothing about the whereabouts of the House agents.”

The Way King replied, “No matter, Anthony. I had almost forgotten about those pests.”

Collins adjusted his glasses and cast a skeptical glance in Michael’s direction.

“Why, then, did you summon me here?” asked the FBI director.

Michael answered. “I could use your help on something. An extracurricular task, really. The good news is, we can forget about the House of Change. In a vision, I saw them die. We—”

Collins groaned. “Ah, great—thank you for letting me waste all those resources on unnecessary legwork.”

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Michael said. The FBI director squinted at him, clearly in disapproval over hearing him refer to him by first name. “It was a very recent vision. If I had seen it any sooner, I would have let you know.”

“There’s this invention called the telephone, and I’m easy to reach by it thanks to another marvel of technology called a pager. But I guess you sometimes forget about basic technology when you have the occult on your mind 24-7.”

Michael nodded and said, “Again, I apologize. If it’s any consolation to you, we now know where Parker is, and our king will summon her here personally. Our work is almost done.”

Collins squinted at him again.

Klemens patted Michael on the back one last time.

“If you hurry with your plans for the night, you might make it back in time. It would otherwise be a shame if you are all absent for my first meeting with the elusive Agent Parker.”

Michael nodded and cast another radiant smile towards Klemens.

All good things come to those who wait.

To Collins Michael said, “Then we’ll have to step on the gas. Come on, we’ll take my van.”

Without as much as a farewell, Klemens shuffled off towards the ranch house and Collins followed Michael to the side of the van, where someone with serious artistic talent had airbrushed on a glorious image of a wizard on the moon, whose fingertips projected a ball of lightning to engulf the planet Earth.

Looking over his shoulder to assure they were out of earshot, Michael intercepted Collins’ questions by saying, “We’re headed to the Castle on the Cumberland.”

Collins stopped dead in his tracks.

“Come again?”

“Supermax. Kentucky State Penitentiary. There’s someone there we need to visit, and you being able to pull some strings would make things a lot easier for us.”

Collins frowned. “You know, if you keep stretching my strings thin, they’ll eventually snap.”

Michael smiled again. Felt another pang of anger creeping up on him.

He exhaled sharply. Vented it again.

He stepped up to the FBI director, whose posture turned as rigid as a statue in response. Gingerly, Michael straightened Collins’ collar.

“Now’s hardly the time to turn uncooperative, Anthony,” he said, letting his name drawl out with subtle shades of contempt. “Unlike Klemens, I will never blackmail you for your… past deeds. When I have that tome, and I use it, I will not just remake the world. I will make all your troubles go away. They will all be buried in the past.”

Anthony Collins’ frown twisted into a grimace and he averted his eyes in shame.

Michael wiped some specks of dust from the man’s shoulder and then opened up the van’s sliding door for him.

The stench of methamphetamines billowed out from the vehicle’s bowels.

“Step into my office. It’s a long ride from Vegas to Kentucky.”

Collins hesitated. Thumbed over his shoulder to the Lincoln. His grimace shifted, cycling between different shades of grief, regret, and defeat.

“Hold on. I’ll get my stuff.”

Michael leaned against the airbrushed wizard on the van’s sliding side door. He crossed his arms as he waited, smiling to himself.

Jericho witnessed all this through a television set. The grainy image showed enough for him to understand it all.

Even so, he slapped the top of the device in growing anger and despair.

“Why are you showing me this? Huh?”

Karma banged against the tall black door, rattling at it as it refused to open, still shouting for someone to let them out of their strange prison within the House of Change.

The room around them offered no response. Mirrors made up every wall from floor to ceiling, reflecting them in a vast infinity of reflections.

Jericho’s face was red with rage, veins popping, spraying spittle at the yellowed screen. He helplessly watched as Collins joined Michael in the wizard van. They drove from the Way King’s ranch, riding into the sunset.

“Why the fuck are you showing me this? Do you want me to do something about it? Stop it? I can’t do anything in here! Let me out! Let me the fuck out! What the fuck do you want?”

Where he smashed the television set, sparks and shattered glass scattered across the marbled floor.