Chapter 68 – Employment Contracts and Eldritch Maids

The wall exploded.

Not cracked. Not crumbled. Exploded. Like someone had replaced the concrete with tissue paper and then introduced it to a freight train traveling at Mach 3.

Chunks of debris flew inward, freezing mid-air before they could hit anything important. Ice coated every surface instantly, spreading from the entry point in crystalline patterns that cracked and reformed with each passing second.

Three figures stepped through the smoke.

Thalia came first, floating six inches off the ground. Her human disguise was gone, shed like an uncomfortable coat. She was pure cosmic horror now, edges blurring between physical and not, her hair moving like it existed in multiple dimensions simultaneously. The temperature around her was cold enough to hurt.

Esdeath walked in behind her, ice sword drawn and radiating enough killing intent to stop a heartbeat. Her military uniform was pristine despite the battle, every button gleaming. Her eyes scanned the room with tactical precision, marking targets and calculating threat levels.

Loki teleported directly to the ceiling, hanging upside down like gravity was a suggestion. She was grinning, manic energy radiating off her in visible waves. Her eyes were pure chaos, flickering through colors that didn’t exist in normal light spectrums.

The kill-auras were intense.

Like standing in front of three different apocalypses and trying to decide which one would end you first. The air itself felt heavy, compressed under the weight of their combined fury.

I was still in the chair.

The massage cycle had just hit my lower back and I wasn’t about to waste that. Also, standing seemed dangerous. Not because of the Harem, but because my spine had forgotten how to support weight after experiencing true ergonomic bliss.

Elizabeth stood between me and them.

Her ceremonial dagger was raised, hands steady despite the obvious power differential. She was a human with a fancy knife facing down three entities that could rewrite reality. Her odds were terrible. Her commitment was absolute.

Thalia’s voice came out wrong, layered with harmonics that made your teeth hurt.

“UNHAND HIM, WORM!”

The words carried physical force, pushing against the air like a shockwave. Elizabeth’s robes whipped backward. The tablet fell from my lap, clattering to the floor.

“I will not yield.”

Elizabeth’s voice didn’t waver, which was impressive considering she was probably three seconds from being erased from existence.

“He is my god. I will defend him with my final breath.”

“Your final breath is approaching rapidly.”

Esdeath’s tone was Arctic, colder than Thalia’s actual ice.

“Step aside or be removed. Those are your options.”

Loki dropped from the ceiling, landing in a crouch that shouldn’t have worked with physics. She tilted her head, studying Elizabeth like a bug under a microscope.

“She’s brave, Kai! I mean, stupid, but brave! Can we keep her, Kai?”

“You cannot keep what belongs to us.”

Thalia moved forward, each step leaving frost patterns on the floor.

“Kai is ours. Our beloved. Our darling. Our everything. You have stolen him. You have hidden him. You will suffer for this transgression.”

The temperature dropped another twenty degrees.

My coffee cup developed a layer of ice thick enough to see through. The massage rollers in the chair started making concerning grinding noises as their mechanisms froze.

That did it.

The massage was sacred. You didn’t interrupt someone’s massage. That was a universal rule, transcending culture and dimension.

I stood up from the throne.

Every joint protested. My back made sounds that suggested I’d violated some kind of spinal warranty. But I was upright, which was the important part.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP.”

The words came out wrong.

Too loud. Too layered. Like someone had taken my voice and run it through a cosmic amplifier then added reverb that echoed across dimensional barriers. The air vibrated with the command, reality itself bending to accommodate the sound.

The entire room froze.

Literally in some cases. Thalia’s ice stopped spreading mid-pattern. Esdeath’s sword paused mid-swing. Loki’s chaos energy crystallized into static geometric shapes that hung suspended in the air.

Elizabeth dropped to her knees, head bowed.

Even the dust particles stopped moving, hanging motionless like the universe had hit pause.

I hadn’t meant to do that.

The Voice of God thing was supposed to be metaphorical. A cult title. Not an actual reality-warping power that made people freeze like someone had unplugged their brains.

Note to self: Don’t yell when annoyed. Apparently that had consequences now.​

“Okay, new rule. Nobody talks until I’m done talking.”

My voice was back to normal, which was a relief. The cosmic amplification thing was unsettling.

I pointed at the chair.

“This chair is amazing. Actually amazing. Like, life-changing furniture. We’re taking it with us.”

Thalia blinked, her cosmic horror form flickering with confusion.

The killing intent in the room shifted from murderous to bewildered.

“Beloved, I don’t understand.”

“The chair, Thalia. It has seventeen different massage settings and memory foam that actually remembers. We’re not leaving it behind.”

Esdeath lowered her sword slightly, her tactical assessment clearly not prepared for furniture discussion.

“You were kidnapped. We came to rescue you.”

“I know. I appreciate that. Very thoughtful. But look at this chair.”

I gestured at the throne like I was presenting evidence in court.

“Ergonomic support. Perfect lumbar adjustment. Zero-gravity mode. This is engineering excellence. This is what peak comfort looks like.”

Loki started laughing, the sound breaking through the frozen tension.

“He’s serious, guys! He’s actually serious! Kai got kidnapped and he’s mad about leaving the furniture, Kai!”

“I’m not mad. I’m being practical.”

I looked at Elizabeth, who was still kneeling, probably expecting divine judgment or death or both.

“You made the coffee?”

She nodded, not looking up.

“And you adjusted the lumbar support? The temperature? All of it?”

Another nod, smaller this time. Her hands were shaking.

“Brother Marcus roasted the beans. Sister Jennifer programmed the HVAC systems. Brother Chen designed the throne’s specifications. I merely coordinated their devotion.”

“That’s called project management. That’s a skill.”

I walked over to her, my legs remembering how to function.

“Stand up.”

She rose slowly, eyes still downcast. Waiting for punishment. For rejection. For whatever cosmic entities did to mortals who overstepped.

“You’re hired.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Head Housekeeper. You clearly know how to run logistics. You organized a kidnapping, fortified a warehouse, and made the best coffee I’ve ever had. Those are marketable skills.”

“I… My Lord, I don’t…”

“Pack the chair. We’re leaving. Also, do you have more of that coffee? The blend name was terrible but the taste was perfect.”

Thalia made a sound like a kettle trying not to explode.

“Darling, you’re hiring your kidnapper?”

“She’s not a kidnapper anymore. She’s staff. There’s a difference.”

“She took you against your will!”

“She relocated me to optimal comfort conditions. That’s basically hospitality work.”

Esdeath sheathed her sword with deliberate slowness, processing information her military training hadn’t prepared her for.

“You aren’t being tortured.”

“The opposite actually. I got a massage and premium coffee and the best nap of my life.”

“We destroyed half the city.”

“That seems excessive but I appreciate the effort.”

Loki was still laughing, now hanging from a light fixture that definitely couldn’t support her weight.

“This is the best resolution, Kai! Anti-climax of the century! We spent twenty minutes laying siege and he just hires the problem away, Kai!”

Elizabeth looked like her brain was rebooting.

“You’re not angry? You don’t wish to smite us?”

“Why would I smite you? You made good coffee. That’s the opposite of smiting behavior.”

I turned to Thalia, who was slowly returning to her more human form. The cosmic horror aesthetic was fading, replaced by her usual dangerous-but-hot appearance.

“Can you help carry the chair? It’s probably heavy.”

“I can manipulate reality itself and you want me to move furniture.”

“Yes.”

She stared at me for a long moment. Something shifted in her expression, the murderous rage transforming into something softer. Still possessive. Still intense. But less homicidal.

“You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told.”

“Fine. I’ll move your chair. But tonight you’re visiting my cell. We’re discussing your priorities.”

“My priorities are correct and I’ll defend them.”

Esdeath dismissed her ice legion with a gesture, the soldiers dissolving into mist.

“I’m adding this to your file. Under ‘Incident Resolution Through Aggressive Employment Offers.'”

“That’s a long category name.”

“It’s a specific situation.”

Elizabeth was crying now, silent tears running down her face. Not sad crying. The overwhelmed kind. The kind where your brain couldn’t process what was happening so your tear ducts just started leaking.

“My Lord, I don’t deserve this mercy.”

“It’s not mercy. It’s logistics. I need someone who understands climate control and coffee preparation. You’re qualified.”

I looked around the destroyed warehouse, at the cult members peeking through the rubble, at the three entities who’d demolished a building to rescue me from comfort.

“Okay, new plan. Elizabeth, get your people to load the chair. Carefully. If it gets scratched I’m docking your pay. Thalia, you’re on temperature regulation so nothing freezes during transport. Esdeath, you handle security so nobody arrests us for the property damage. Loki, you’re on distraction duty. Make the cops forget which building exploded.”

Loki saluted, grinning.

“Aye aye, Kai! Best mission ever, Kai!”

Twenty minutes later we were walking back to the facility.

Elizabeth carried the throne on her back with strength that definitely wasn’t normal human capacity. Probably cult magic or divine blessing or whatever let tiny women lift ridiculous weight. She was beaming despite the load, face bright with fanatic joy.

The other cult members followed at a respectful distance, carrying furniture and equipment like the world’s weirdest moving company.

Thalia walked beside me, one hand possessively wrapped around my arm.

“You’re too kind to them.”

“I’m practical.”

“You hired your kidnapper.”

“I hired a good project manager who happened to kidnap me. Different framing.”

She squeezed my arm, cold seeping through the fabric.

“I’m still jealous.”

“Of what?”

“She got you for six hours. Uninterrupted. That’s more time than I’ve had in weeks.”

“You can visit the chair. I’ll share custody.”

“I don’t want chair custody. I want you custody.”

“Same thing basically. Where I am, the chair is.”

Esdeath walked ahead, already on her phone filing reports that would probably give Miller another panic attack. Loki was behind us, turning street signs into balloon animals and giggling at her own jokes.

Somewhere above, I felt eyes watching.

Dad was up there, probably eating popcorn or whatever. Satisfied that his manipulation had worked out exactly as planned. That I’d gained a devoted follower and integrated the Worship aspect into my completely unwanted divine portfolio.

I’d deal with that later.

Right now I was tired, caffeinated, and accompanied by the best chair in existence being carried by my newly hired housekeeper who used to run a cult.

Just another day in my increasingly weird life.​

Elizabeth adjusted the throne’s weight, still smiling.

“My Lord, where shall I install your throne once we reach the facility?”

“My office. We’re replacing the standard furniture.”

“It shall be done.”

Thalia’s grip tightened.

“Our cell would be better. Climate controlled. Private. Perfect for your comfort.”

“Your cell is literally a prison cell.”

“A very nice prison cell.”

This was going to be a long walk back.