Trevor suspected his hand in many things, including helping Trevor return from a parallel Earth and, before that, cluing humanity in on the existence of the runes; strange pillars that shut off alien reinforcements and provided a means to return the invaders to their home worlds.

Indeed, it seemed to Trevor that his benefactor had gone to great lengths to overcome several obstacles-apparently unfair ones-placed in humanity’s path by Voggoth.

Still, just last year the Old Man had happily suggested that Trevor and The Empire appeared certain to win on this Earth; one of many parallel Earths where each of the major species faced an onslaught. Things changed drastically since then. The Old Man rarely visited and did little more than bark encouragement at Trevor before dismissing him.

Unlike times past, the sight of the Old Man did not encourage Trevor or fill him with questions. Instead, he found himself annoyed at having been called away for what would certainly be pointless dialogue while a score of his soldiers lay dying on the airfield.

“Hey, Trevor! About time we had a little powwow, dontchya think?”

The Old Man’s seemingly jovial tone came as a surprise. Trevor approached between the rows of neglected seats while the Rottweilers remained behind guarding the door.

“What do you want now?”

In years past he would have craved a chance to pick the Old Man’s brain, despite being told on numerous occasions not to ask questions. Then, in the years since his return from that alternate Earth, Trevor had found comfort with the old-timer because he might be-whatever his true nature-the only entity in the universe that could understand Trevor’s plight.

“Now is that a way to go talkin’ to your ol’ pal? C’mon now, Trevvy, let’s sit down and you can tell me all ‘bout your plans to finish up the job you got here.”