My God Is a Clumsy Disaster

Chapter 7: The Collector's Interest

The silence that followed the stranger’s arrival was heavier than the concrete slab that had nearly crushed them. Vax stood like a statue carved from shadows and aircraft-grade steel, the sword in their hand pulsing with a rhythmic, steady light that made Kenji’s own flickering mustard-colored aura feel like a dying candle in a gale.

"I asked you a question, kid," Vax repeated, the sword tilting just enough to catch the light. "I don’t like repeating myself. It’s bad for my blood pressure. So, what’s the story?"

Kenji didn't stand up. He couldn't. His legs felt like lead weights, and his heart was performing a frantic, irregular tap-dance against his ribs. He gripped the heavy-duty flashlight—his only weapon, if you could even call it that—and stared up at the stranger.

"It’s not a story," Kenji rasped, his voice sounding like dry gravel. "It’s a disaster. We’re just trying to get across the river. We didn't know this was a nesting ground."

Vax took a step forward, the sound of their boots muffled by the thick, calcified dust of the cavern. "A disaster, huh? That’s an understatement. You’re dragging around a divinity that creates inflatable circus gear while the sky is literally falling. That’s not a disaster. That’s a comedy show."

Ares-Minus, who had been trying his best to look like a piece of structural debris, finally stood up, dusting off his toga with trembling hands. "Hey, watch the 'comedy' comment! My 'clown manifestation' saved our lives, thank you very much. And for your information, it was a high-level, spatial-displacement tactical anchor."

Vax turned their head toward the god, their visor reflecting the scene like a dark, distorted mirror. "A tactical anchor? Buddy, you’re about as tactical as a wet paper towel. You’re a minor inconvenience with a pulse. And right now, that makes you a liability."

"Liability?" Kenji scoffed, his anger starting to override his terror. "We’re the ones who survived the subway mob, the mall scavengers, and that bird-thing that tried to turn us into roadkill. I’d say we’re doing pretty well for a 'liability'."

Vax chuckled, a low, rasping sound that didn't reach their eyes. "You’ve got a mouth on you. I like that. It’s refreshing. Most people just beg for their lives or scream until I lose my patience. But you? You’re just annoyed."

"I’m exhausted," Kenji corrected, slowly pushing himself up to his feet. He felt lightheaded, his energy reserves completely drained. "If you’re going to kill us, get on with it. Otherwise, back off and let us get out of here."

Vax stepped closer, the sword’s glow illuminating the jagged scars on their armor. "Kill you? Why would I kill you? You’re the most interesting thing to wander into this sector in months. A godling with the combat prowess of a toddler, and a kid who thinks a flashlight is a weapon. You’re perfect."

"Perfect for what?" Kenji asked, his skin crawling.

"For my collection," Vax said, waving the sword in a casual arc. "I don't just harvest cores, kid. I collect curiosities. And you two? You’re the weirdest curiosity I’ve seen since the collapse started. I think I’ll keep you. Like a pair of… let’s call them 'pets'."

Ares-Minus puffed out his chest, trying to look offended. "We are not pets! I am a divine entity! I have rights! I have, uh, celestial stature!"

Vax didn't even look at the god. They kept their gaze locked on Kenji. "You want to survive? You want to see tomorrow morning? You follow me. I have a base. It’s got walls, it’s got food, and it’s a hell of a lot safer than wandering around in the dark where the swarm can smell your fear."

Kenji looked at the god, then back at the stranger. The logic was cold, hard, and undeniable. He had no food, no map, no power, and they were surrounded by things that wanted to eat them. If Vax wanted to help—or even if it was just a trap—it was still better than dying on a concrete floor in the middle of a monster’s nest.

"What’s the catch?" Kenji asked, his tone flat.

"The catch is you do what I say," Vax said, spinning the sword around and sheathing it across their back with a metallic clack. "You don’t ask questions, you don’t wander off, and you definitely don’t try any more 'clown' magic unless I tell you to. Can you handle that?"

"I’m not a clown," Ares-Minus muttered under his breath.

"Whatever," Kenji sighed, slumping his shoulders. "Fine. We’re in. Lead the way."

"Smart choice," Vax said, turning on their heel and walking toward the cavern exit. "Follow me, and try not to trip over your own feet. The path out of here is treacherous, and I really don't feel like dragging your corpses up the ramp."

Kenji walked behind Vax, his muscles burning with every step. Ares-Minus scrambled to keep pace, his toga snagging on every piece of debris in his path.

"Are you sure about this, Kenji?" the god whispered, leaning in close. "That guy gives me the creeps. He feels... sharp. Like, 'if I sneeze, he might cut my head off' sharp."

"You think I don't know that?" Kenji hissed back. "He’s a nightmare. But look at where we are. We’re tapped out. I can’t manifest anything else, and you’re running on fumes. We don't have a choice."

"I suppose," the god sighed. "But if this 'base' is just another death trap, I’m going to be very disappointed. I was promised safety, not a collar."

"We’ll see," Kenji muttered.

The hike out of the overpass was a blur of shadows and sharp, jagged concrete. Vax moved with unnatural efficiency, leaping over crevices that Kenji had to carefully navigate and slipping through tight passages that left them scraping their skin against rusted rebar.

As they finally emerged into the open, the cityscape of Tokyo lay before them. It wasn't the city Kenji remembered. It was a skeletal, haunting wreck. Skyscrapers stood like broken teeth against the fractured, violet-hued sky, and the streets were choked with the remains of an civilization that had simply stopped.

"Over there," Vax said, pointing to a massive, reinforced building that looked like an old government office complex. It was surrounded by a wall of shipping containers and electrified scrap metal. "That’s home. Don’t look so gloomy. It’s got real plumbing."

Kenji looked at the structure. It seemed too quiet. Too clean. There wasn't a single scavenger or shadow-beast in sight.

"Is it always this empty?" Kenji asked, his eyes scanning the perimeter.

"I keep it clean," Vax replied, their voice devoid of emotion. "Things that try to get in usually regret it. Consider yourself lucky."

They reached the perimeter, and a massive gate of reinforced iron groaned open, sliding on rollers that sounded like grinding teeth. Vax stepped inside, gesturing for them to follow.

"Welcome to the Menagerie," Vax said, their voice dripping with a mocking sweetness.

Kenji stepped through the gate. As soon as they were inside, the heavy iron groaned shut behind them with a finality that made his blood run cold. He looked up, and his heart skipped a beat.

The courtyard was filled with more than just supplies. There were rows of iron cages, some of them occupied by shadows of creatures that looked like they belonged in a nightmare, and others that held people—survivors who looked gaunt, hollow, and utterly broken.

"Nice place, right?" Vax asked, turning to face them with a cruel, thin smile. "I told you I was a collector."

Ares-Minus turned pale, his mustard aura fading to a sickly, transparent gray. "Kenji. I think we made a very, very big mistake."

Kenji gripped his flashlight, the plastic casing digging into his palm. He looked at the rows of cages, then back at Vax.

"You didn't need us for our protection," Kenji said, his voice steadying despite his fear. "You needed us for the collection."

Vax laughed, a sound like glass shattering in

a dark room. "Bingo. Now, let’s see which cage is going to be your new home."