Actively seek out Caitlyn?
What a joke.
Setting aside everything else—and whether this might be a trap set by Kaisa—if he went looking for Caitlyn, there'd be no good outcome.
If it's a trap, he'd be walking right into it.
If it's not, and he's just panicking over four defeated ex-foes to the point of running to his women for help?
Why?
Just because his divine power is currently on delay?
Heh.
Men—especially male gods, and Lake was among the top tier of male gods—couldn't afford to lose face. If he got scared and ran to his women over four measly pests, what would that make him? A man can lose anything, but never his pride.
Even if he died.
If that day ever came, he'd face it head-on, not cower behind his women.
So!
He absolutely wouldn't go looking for Caitlyn. Besides, in six months, his divine power should catch up anyway.
Karthus, you wait. Last time, I spared you because your rendition of "Conquer" wasn't half bad. But now? You're digging your own grave.
Lake sneered inwardly.
"Agatha!"
"Here."
"Search for any traces of foreign entities in this world without alerting Caitlyn. I want to know which four losers who want to die again have shown up here."
"Yes."
This wasn't Valoran anymore. In Valoran, the underworld belonged to Karthus, and divine rules kept Lake from barging in to kill them again. But here? Let's see how cozy you can get in this universe's underworld.
Karthus's underworld didn't have a "drop the soap" vibe.
But here?
This underworld didn't just have soap—it had pitchforks and all sorts of nasty toys.
Michaela, standing nearby, asked curiously, "If your divine power hasn't returned and someone's hunting you, why not go to your wives?"
Lake glanced at her, "Simple. I don't want to."
Michaela: "That casual?"
Lake nodded, "Of course. Let me share a bit of godly common sense: for gods, 'want' is the source of all action. It explains every divine behavior that seems bizarre to mortals. We do it because we want to, that's it. And you don't think these four bugs chasing me can just waltz in like I did, do you?"
"They can't?"
"Heh."
If it were living defeated foes from Valoran's surface, Lake might be a bit worried. But ones from the death dimension?
No physical bodies—how much trouble could they cause?
Lake smirked, gave Agatha an order, then turned to educate Michaela, "Every universe has its own death dimension. Karthus, the Death Singer, is the god who controls Valoran's death dimension. A universe might not have gods, but it'll always have an afterlife."
The authority over death was actually the most supreme.
After all, where there's life and death, there's the power of death. That's why Lake hadn't killed Karthus back then.
There was only one way to kill him: let Val—er, let Valoran return to oblivion. No life, no death—Karthus's authority would vanish, and killing him would be easy.
But...
Though Lake's reputation in Valoran was pretty notorious, he was only dubbed the "God of Weirdos," not something like "God of Evil." Why? Because he treated Valoran like a deluxe playground.
What's the most important thing in a game?
Fun.
How do you have fun?
Obviously, playing with others is the most fun. A deserted playground might feel great for a moment, but after a while?
A silent amusement park—no screams on the roller coaster, no shouts on the pendulum ride.
Short bursts are fine, but over time, it gets dull.
Even if Lake's antics in Valoran could stack up from the continent to the Sun Star, he was still Lake—chaotic neutral at worst, not evil.
So.
That's why the Death Singer had no fear. In Valoran's ten-thousand-plus years, ever since Lake forced Karthus to sing "Conquer," the guy had latched onto him like a rabid dog.
For example.
Lake would kill a demigod, but six months later, that demigod would reappear as a death demigod, forcing Lake to kill them again.
Over and over.
It's a big reason why Lake learned to temper himself after becoming a god. Killing was fun, but killing the same demigod for centuries got old...
Now it was happening again.
Karthus had taken action, proving some gods held grudges across universes. Even after all this, he still wouldn't let go.
But...
This world had its own afterlife.
And this universe's death authority was held by a goddess from an immigrant spaceship.
In Valoran, you could use your authority to grant your reapers bodies. But here, Karthus? What's your plan?
Lake sipped his bourbon, watching the account balance on the screen tick upward, his curiosity burning.
Michaela glanced at the ever-changing money figures, then at Lake, a bit dazed.
Just as she thought Lake might explain, she shrugged, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and headed to the couch.
Now it was Lake's turn to be puzzled, "You're not going to ask what I'm doing?"
Michaela didn't look back, "You said it yourself—fun, right? You're a god. Whatever you do is normal."
With that.
She popped the soda with a "pfft" and turned on the massive, wall-mounted TV.
The screen lit up.
A charming, glamorous New York TV reporter smiled at the camera, "One day ago, Victor Von Doom suddenly announced he'd fully fund Dr. Reed Richards' research, which NASA rejected three months prior. Last night, he and Dr. Richards' team boarded..."
Lake, enjoying his growing pile of cash, didn't recognize Victor Von Doom at first. But when he heard Reed Richards, he snapped to attention.
The Fantastic Four?
The four pests that flew over from Valoran?
Lake felt like he'd caught onto something.
Outside Earth.
Space.
Victor Industries Space Research Station.
Beep!
Beep!
Beep!
Reed Richards, preparing for the incoming cosmic cloud as planned, froze when the computer blared an alert.