text: <He has returned,> a voice said in the blackness. <Why has he returned?>
  
  <I thought he was exterminated,> a second voice remarked. <Did the measures fail?>
  
  <They are old,> the third voice grumbled. <No doubt they have weakened over the years.>
  
  The blackness faded, and I looked up.
  
  There was a bronze sky over me. I could see it, but it felt as if it were pressing down directly over my head. I had to bend my knees to avoid being crushed. When I looked down I saw the shadows of three old men standing over me, though I could not see the figures themselves anywhere.
  
  <Unacceptable,> the first voice spat. <We spent far too many resources for the measures to ever fail. I told you all it was not enough. I told everyone it was not enough!>
  
  <You did,> the second voice admitted grudgingly. <Which was why we spent all we deemed we could afford.>
  
  <And now everyone is gone,> the third voice cautioned. <We crippled his kind too early. We still needed them just a little longer.>
  
  <It was worth it!> the first voice snapped, and the weight over me suddenly doubled. <At least we kept this much! Better to lose all of those worlds than let them always have their way! Otherwise we would have lost everything in truth!>
  
  My feet sank into the rusty ground. My back bent under the weight of the bronze sky.
  
  <At least the measures have not failed completely>, the second voice pointed out. <If they had failed for good he would not be in this space.>
  
  <It will be enough eventually,> the third voice pointed out. <Look at his mind. Whole Earthborn were always the problem. This one is broken inside.>
  
  <He still has all of the warning signs of a rebel king,> the first voice spat. <He gathers others to himself. Shelters the weak of other races. Shields those he has no business shielding. Such foolishness is always a concern. We cannot let his kind end another golden age!>
  
  <I still say he will break himself,> the third voice insisted. He is alone. <Those he gathers are weak as well. He cannot protect them all forever. One day he will try, and then fail, and then die. Was that not what brought his people down to begin with?>
  
  <But what if he does not fail?> the first voice hissed. <What if this time it works?>
  
  <Then we will descend upon him and stop him for good,> the third voice declared. <But not before.>
  
  <Agreed,> the second voice muttered. <Paying such costs at this time is unnecessary. Especially given his number of enemies.>
  
  <Fine,> the first voice grumbled. <But know that seeing him crawl this high is disgusting.>
  
  <Relax>, the second one hissed. <This is as far as he goes.>
  
  <The one he seeks has been already been promised to another, the most jealous of them all. As soon as the Earthborn gets in the way of his claim, the thing will tear him apart far more thoroughly than we could on our own,> the third voice said with a grave nod.
  
  <Stell,> I realized. <They are talking about Stell.>
  
  "Promised?" I growled out, fighting against the pressure.
  
  <Can he hear us?> the first voice whispered.
  
  <Does it matter?> the second one asked with a shrug.
  
  "Did you," I growled as my back strained. "Promise Stell… to Cavus?" My teeth clenched so hard they scratched at my gums. "Did you promise her… to that… thing?"
  
  <Oh look,> the second voice chuckled. <An Earthborn thinks he can look down on something else.>
  
  <Don't be too hard on the vermin,> the third one said pityingly. <It's not like they are capable of realizing just how much is above their own heads.>
  
  <True,> the first one said. <Their skies are too low…>
  
  <Their heavens are too heavy…> the second droned.
  
  <And the gods they've angered are all too great,> the last one declared in a solemn and angry voice.
  
  <Wrong,> a quiet voice said inside of me. <They are all wrong.>
  
  Realization dawned on me.
  
  The heaviness was not over my head.
  
  It was inside my chest.
  
  The same old voice I had been hearing all along.
  
  <You can't do it.>
  
  <You're too broken.>
  
  I growled, grabbing hold of that heaviness with my mind. As I did so, my own hands latched into the bronze sky above my back, my fingers stabbing cracks into the false expanse.
  
  "Let me say it again!" I shouted. The three frightened old men hissed and sucked in their breath.
  
  "This is not my sky!" My fingers dug in deeper. My voice grew louder.
  
  "These are not my heavens!" The bronze-cast weight shuddered as my voice echoed off of it. The cracks from my fingers widened into spidery webs.
  
  "And you are not my gods!" My voice came out in a roar. The false heaven groaned as it became an earthquake over my head.
  
  My mind and arms flexed in unison as I lifted, and *pushed*.