"You're here again," rumbled Usumgallu, adjusting his monocle with the kind of poise that screamed 'ancient knowledge and weekly spa days.' His golden eyes flicked over me like I was a mildly interesting scroll he'd seen once in a dream. "Welcome back, Owner. What is it this time?"
Beside me, Heim had gone eerily still. His complexion faded from sun-kissed bronze to 'I-just-saw-my-childhood-fear' pale. I gave him a side glance. Great. Another god-malfunction. I resisted the urge to check if he'd short-circuited.
Focus, Carl.
I cleared my throat and addressed the god-librarian-dragon-whatever. "Yeah, I was hoping to pull up some files on Stragglers. And maybe—if it's not too much—on War Beasts too."
Usumgallu arched a scaled brow. "Stragglers? As in… survivors of the Ruined Worlds?"
I nodded. "Yep. The apocalyptic creatures. That bunch."
