Max walked along the shores of the island of Okkara, his boots leaving impressions in the pristine white sand.
It had not been easy to find this island. After he, along with Nur and Ghost, set out to locate it, the search proved far more challenging than anticipated.
The island, it seemed, was indeed sentient, a being that called itself Okkara, created unknowingly by the Celestials when they arrived in their First Host a million years ago. It was here that they had experimented on early humans, shaping evolution and planting seeds that would bloom across millennia.
The island could teleport across the world's oceans, vanishing and reappearing thousands of miles away in an instant. Max had only managed to finally find it and land upon it while it was in the Atlantic, ending their search after six months of pursuit.
Yes, six months.
The island had been able to shield itself from even his construct satellites and surveillance drones, something Jade took very personally and complained about extensively.
Okkara could be considered a mutant in a way. It was here that the latent X-gene had been implanted into the Homo erectus living on Earth a million years ago. At least, that was what Okkara claimed, and Max had no reason to doubt a sentient landmass that had existed for that long.
He continued along the beautiful beach, the sun warm on his face and the sound of waves peaceful and rhythmic. Nearby, closer to the ocean, Firehair walked barefoot through the surf, her red hair flowing in the sea breeze as she smiled and played with the water.
Max watched her with a smile, his heart swelling with affection.
It had been nearly a decade since his arrival in this universe. So far, it had been great. What was there not to enjoy? He was one of the strongest beings around, could travel the universe anywhere he wanted, had made great friends, including one who was like a brother to him in Odin, and had found love with an amazing woman.
And yet, a part of him still deeply missed his mother and father, along with others from his life before. Before he had been killed by an avalanche in his original world.
The beach reminded him of a time when he was a child, when he and his family went on vacation to Hawaii, one of many fond memories he carried like treasures in his heart.
Then there was also the impending doom he knew was coming for him.
He did not know when it would happen, but he knew with terrible certainty that one day he would be thrown backward in time. The thought unsettled him more and more now, a constant weight pressing on his chest. He did not want to lose Firehair or his new friends. He would rather live out his life with her here on Earth, growing old together, even if old age would take centuries to claim them.
Every day now, he felt fear. Yes, fear. Of it happening. It was even starting to affect him physically. He could feel Parallax's tendrils slithering into him from the void, feeding on his anxiety, just like when he had fought Kang all those years ago.
There were so many unknowns Max could not figure out. When would it happen? How? Why? Could he prevent it, or was it inevitable?
Firehair looked at him, smiling, her expression inviting as she gestured for him to join her in the water. Then her face changed as she saw his own expression, the worry he could not quite hide.
Max quickly schooled his features into a small smile, but it was too late.
She flew over to him immediately, concern etched across her beautiful face.
"What is it?" she asked, touching his arm gently.
"It's nothing," Max said, trying to deflect.
"It did not seem like nothing," she pressed, her eyes searching his.
Max continued to walk along the beach, and Firehair walked beside him, step by step, patient but worried.
"I am not blind, Max," she said softly. "I know something has been bothering you. For weeks now. You hide it well, but I can see it. I can feel it."
Max was quiet for a long moment, then said, "It's nothing. Really. Just… thinking too much." He looked at her and forced a brighter smile. "Let's go back home."
Firehair looked at him, then slowly nodded, clearly not believing him but willing to give him space.
They both lifted into the air, flying toward a large mountain in the distance that overlooked the entire beach and the vast green forest beyond.
It was there, on the slopes of that mountain, that Max had made a construct home, designed in the shape of a modern house mixed with elements of a fantasy castle. Clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows combined with stone towers and archways. It was their home now.
They landed on the wide balcony that offered sweeping views of the ocean and forest below.
After finding Okkara and befriending it, Max had asked if they could stay there and make it a home. The Sanctuary was starting to get a bit crowded as Agamotto took on more students, and he was constantly expanding the place, building new wings and training chambers.
Okkara was more than happy to have them. The island was lonely, Max could tell. A million years of solitary existence had taken its toll. The sentient landmass got along with everyone, but especially with Nur, as Okkara found Nur's possession of the X-gene fascinating and wanted to study how the gene had evolved over millennia.
Firehair turned to face him as he sat down in a chair, her expression serious now.
"Now talk," she commanded. She crossed her arms. "Even the others have noticed something is wrong." Then her expression shifted slightly, almost playful. "Fan Fei thinks you have another woman in your life."
Max looked at her incredulously. "What?" He stood up quickly. "Is she trying to have me killed?"
Firehair smiled. She was joking, of course. Then her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Unless there is?"
"Red, no other being in the universe compares to you," Max said, taking her hands in his.
She smiled, the tension easing.
"I mean, leave the harem of women to Odin," Max added with a smirk.
Firehair laughed, the sound music to his ears. Then she fell silent for a moment, her expression becoming serious again. "If you truly love me and trust me, then why not tell me what's wrong? I can tell you are keeping secrets. I can feel them weighing on you."
Max sighed, looking out at the ocean. "Fine. There is something."
Firehair looked at him expectantly, waiting.
Max then told her everything about the Elders and how all the evidence pointed to him being one of them, as well as other evidence suggesting that he would, at some point, be thrown back in time.
"How can you be so sure it will happen?" Firehair asked gently.
"I just told you."
Firehair considered this. "Maybe you are one and you don't remember. You did tell me how you woke up years ago without remembering anything before a certain point, how your earliest clear memory was waking up with the ring."
Max paused. He could not tell her the whole truth, that he was from another universe entirely, that he had died and been reborn here. That secret had to stay buried.
"Maybe we should find one of them," Firehair suggested. "Find an Elder and ask them directly. Put your worries to rest." She paused, her eyes glowing faintly. "Even the Phoenix agrees. It says the answers you seek exist, but you must be willing to look for them."
Max thought about it. Maybe it was a good idea, confronting the unknown rather than letting it haunt him.
But Firehair, seeing Max's indecisiveness and hesitation, changed tactics. "Or maybe don't think about it. Maybe it won't even happen like you think." She stepped closer, placing her hand on his chest. "Like Fan Fei says, live in the present. Don't let fear of the future steal the joy of now."
Max smiled and nodded. He stood and pulled her close. "You're right."
"I usually am," she said with a grin.
They kissed, slow and deep, the world falling away around them.
"Grænlaðr!" Odin's voice boomed across the mountainside.
Max and Firehair broke the kiss, turning to see Odin and Ghost approaching. Odin strode forward with mock indignation while Ghost followed with an amused expression.
"I claimed this mountain!" Odin declared dramatically. "Grænlaðr, you dare take it for yourself?"
"I'm sorry, I don't see your name on it," Max replied, gesturing around. "But do you know what I do see? My house."
"But I claimed it!" Odin insisted.
"He's right, Odin," Firehair said, barely suppressing a laugh. "I don't see your name anywhere."
Odin sighed dramatically, gesturing to the vista. "It's the best place on the island. The view, the elevation, the strategic position—"
"Sadly, yes," Ghost agreed, walking up beside them. "I agree it would have been perfect. There are good grazing plains nearby for Tasi too."
"Don't worry, Ghost," Max said warmly. "You can live on it. I'll build you a home right over there." He pointed to a nearby slope with an equally beautiful view.
"Aha! Good!" Odin said, grinning. "Now what I want is—"
"Not for you," Max interrupted.
Odin growled in mock anger, lightning crackling around him, as they all laughed.
This was nice, Max thought, putting his arm around Firehair as the four of them stood on the balcony, overlooking the island paradise.
He set the fear of the unknown future aside, for now at least.
.
.
.
Earth-1610
The building exploded in green fire as Spider-Man was thrown down into the streets below.
His black-and-red suit tore from the heat, the fabric scorching and melting as he plummeted through the air. He tumbled end over end, unable to control his fall, arms flailing uselessly as gravity took hold. He crashed through a fire escape with a sickening crunch of metal, bounced off a car roof that crumpled under the impact, and finally slammed into the pavement hard enough to crater the asphalt.
The entire city of New York was burning. Screams echoed from every direction, mixing with explosions that lit up the smoke-filled sky. A giant red dragon breathed flames across entire city blocks, its roar shaking buildings to their foundations. Fire hydrants burst, spraying water that instantly turned to steam. People ran in every direction, many already on fire, their screams cut short.
Apocalypse flew above it all, under attack by the X-Men as he systematically took them down one by one. Storm's lightning struck him. He absorbed it and redirected it back. Colossus charged. Apocalypse turned his metallic body into rust. Iceman tried to freeze him. Apocalypse shattered him like glass.
Spider-Man tried to get up, his head ringing, vision blurred, every bone in his body screaming in agony.
But his assailant, the monster with the flaming green skull for a head, leapt from his glider directly onto him, driving him back down into the crater.
The Goblin began punching him. Again. And again. And again.
"Peter. Peter. Oh, Peter," he laughed maniacally, each word punctuated by another bone-breaking strike. Then he grabbed Spider-Man's mask and ripped it off, revealing the face beneath.
Miles Morales.
The Goblin stopped, the flames flickering uncertainly. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice shifting from manic glee to genuine anger. He stood and hauled Miles up by the throat, lifting him off the ground. "Where is Peter Parker? Who are you?"
"I am Spider-Man, bitch," Miles choked out, activating his venom strike as electric energy crackled across his body and surged into the Goblin.
But it did not work.
"Where is Peter Parker?" the Goblin demanded again, shaking Miles violently.
"He's gone," Miles gasped.
The Goblin did not respond. For a long moment, he simply stared at Miles with those empty, flaming eye sockets.
Then he set Miles on fire.
Green hellfire engulfed the young hero completely. Miles did not even have time to scream before he was reduced to ashes that scattered on the wind.
"Well, you escaped me this time, Peter," the Goblin said to the drifting remains. "But I'll find you next time."
The Goblin was suddenly shaken by a collision above him, two massive energies clashing with such force that the shockwaves flattened buildings.
High in the sky, two cosmic beings battled.
Jean Grey and Raven Darkhölme. Phoenix and Dark Phoenix.
Both women were wreathed in the flaming silhouette of the Phoenix. Jean burned with brilliant red-gold fire, while Raven was surrounded by twisted black flames. They clashed in the skies above Manhattan, reality itself bending around them.
Jean fired a blast of pure Phoenix Force. Raven countered with her own. They grappled midair, each trying to overwhelm the other's power.
The Goblin flew up toward the battle, eager to join.
Raven swatted him away with a casual gesture, sending him tumbling through the air like a fly.
"Hey! I'm trying to help you, bitch!" the Goblin shouted angrily.
"This is my battle, Hellspawn!" Raven snarled, never taking her eyes off Jean. She struck Jean down with a concentrated blast of dark Phoenix fire, and the X-Man fell unconscious, plummeting toward the burning city below.
Raven descended after her, dark flames building to catastrophic levels. She unleashed the full power of the Dark Phoenix Force in a single, devastating strike.
Jean's body burned. The Phoenix Force itself was torn from her and scattered. Jean Grey ceased to exist.
"It's done," Raven said, hovering above the ashes.
The Goblin flew over, clapping mockingly. "Congratulations. You defeated an already weakened host. I wonder what will happen when you truly fight an equal."
Raven turned to him, her eyes blazing with dark fire. "I have no equals."
Just then, the Black Skull's voice echoed in all their minds through their mental link. "Are you done? I have destroyed the Triskelion, along with the Iron Inquisitor and the Berserker. The Ultimates, along with Captain America, are dead."
"Yes," Raven and the Goblin said together. "We're done."
"We are finished as well," Apocalypse's voice joined in, followed by Sadurang's confirmation.
"Give me a moment," Uranos said.
They all looked up into the sky to see Uranos striking down Thor. The Mad Eternal now held two Stormbreakers in his hands, one from this universe's Thor and one taken from their first battle ever. He raised both axes and brought them down simultaneously on Thor's chest, the enchanted weapons cutting through Asgardian flesh like paper.
Thor, God of Thunder, fell from the sky, dead before he hit the ground.
"Now I'm finished," Uranos said with satisfaction.
"Let us meet at the rendezvous point," the Black Skull commanded.
All eight of them converged on Central Park, or what remained of it. The once-green oasis was now a scorched wasteland.
The Black Skull arrived first. Then Apocalypse, covered in the blood of X-Men. Sadurang followed, his robes mending themselves after attacks from Strange and the other sorcerers. Berserker came next, laughing and covered in gore. The Iron Inquisitor arrived with his armor dented but still functional. Raven appeared, still wreathed in dark Phoenix flames. Then came the Goblin. Finally, Uranos descended, carrying his twin Stormbreakers.
"Well," the Black Skull said as they assembled. "Where is Doom?"
Sadurang pointed toward the Baxter Building in the distance.
There, towering above the skyline, was a massive orange construct resembling Galactus. No, not resembling. It was Galactus. The Galactus from the universe Doom originated from, where all enemies Doom had defeated were turned into constructs and absorbed into the Starheart. That much they all knew.
The construct raised its massive hand, energy building to apocalyptic levels. Then it struck down at the Baxter Building with enough force to level the entire city and more.
The defenses around the building, every form of shield and all of Reed Richards' genius, shattered like glass.
Doom's voice echoed in their minds, commanding and absolute. "Leave. Doom will follow later. There are still loose ends to tie up here."
The Black Skull looked annoyed but did not argue. "Fine. But don't take too long."
Sadurang opened a portal, red energy swirling into a gateway.
One by one, the Masters of Evil stepped through, leaving Earth-1610 burning behind them.
==========
The Maker watched as Doom entered the Baxter Building, his enhanced vision tracking the orange-glowing figure through multiple feeds simultaneously.
He then looked to the other screens, watching as the eight others left through the red portal, abandoning this universe.
Fascinating, he thought.
Invaders from the multiverse.
Yes, Reed had come to understand it, the multiverse, infinite realities branching endlessly. He had even glimpsed others from time to time through his dimensional viewers. He had seen worlds where his life went more perfectly. One where he was raised by a loving father instead of a distant, abusive one. One where Sue never left him, where their relationship remained strong. One where his friends did not betray him.
His plans needed to change now. He would face no resistance, since most of the heroes were dead. The opposition he had been carefully maneuvering around for years was simply gone.
He studied the feeds and saw the bodies scattered across the city. Captain America. Iron Man. The X-Men. All of the Ultimates, and more.
I need to kill this Doom they have left behind, Reed thought clinically, already calculating probabilities and strategies.
He shifted to another feed and watched dispassionately as Doom killed Ben, Susan, and Johnny, his former friends and family. They fell one by one. Sue was the last to fall.
Reed felt nothing. He had given up his humanity long ago, stretched it so thin that emotions no longer existed. That was the price of perfection.
Another feed showed Doom killing his counterpart, Victor Van Damme, this universe's version of him.
"A weakling," Reed heard Doom's voice say from behind him.
Reed did not turn or startle. He had known Doom was there. "I agree. Not like the others I have seen in the multiverse. Some of you are brilliant. Terrifying. That one was mediocre."
Doom laughed, a sound both amused and contemptuous. The orange, avarice-filled glow around him lessened slightly as they faced each other.
Reed attacked immediately.
Weapons deployed from all around the room. Hidden panels opened, automated systems activated. He triggered the building's defenses simultaneously. Beams of pure entropy energy struck at Doom from a dozen angles, designed to accelerate decay and unmake matter at the atomic level.
Doom raised shields around himself, orange constructs forming instantly. The entropy beams struck the barriers and dissipated.
Reed's grotesque use of his powers became immediately apparent. His body stretched and contorted in ways that violated human anatomy. Limbs extended to impossible lengths in irregular patterns. His torso flattened to slip between energy beams. His neck elongated so his head could strike from an unexpected angle.
He dodged Doom's counterattacks with fluid, inhuman grace, his elastic form bending around orange constructs that would have impaled a normal person. Then he went on the offensive, stretching his arms to impossible lengths and wrapping them around Doom, trying to pull him down, trying to reach the Starheart embedded in his chest.
His fingers elongated into sharp points, stabbing toward the orange crystal that was the source of Doom's power.
But Doom was faster.
An orange construct orb materialized around Reed instantly, perfectly spherical, trapping him inside. Reed's stretched limbs snapped back toward his body as the sphere compressed, limiting his movement.
"Impressive," Doom said, his voice carrying genuine respect. "You're the most powerful one I have faced so far."
With a wave of his hand, Doom turned toward the array of screens. The monitors rearranged themselves, displaying the plans the Maker had been pursuing. He studied them closely. Plans to conquer Europe. Resurrection of heroes. An ever-expanding city.
"And I am even more impressed by your plans," Doom said.
He laughed.
While Doom was distracted, Reed acted.
He stretched his body to microscopic levels, his molecules separating and slipping between the atomic structure of the construct orb like water through a sieve. He reformed on the other side and immediately grabbed a massive weapon from a hidden compartment, a reality disruptor he had been saving.
He fired.
The blast hurled Doom back several feet.
"I am impressed as well," Reed said, his voice flat and analytical. A hologram appeared before him, displaying the full emotional spectrum in a radiant arc of color. He reached out and touched the violet light with one elongated finger. "I too looked into the elusive spectrum. I thought it was too much of a hassle, too unpredictable, too dangerous."
He looked at Doom.
"But now, seeing you, I am even more certain I was right not to touch it."
"You mock Doom?" the armored figure said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.
"I have seen many versions of you, Victor," Reed continued, his stretched face showing something close to contempt. "But none have been as pathetic as Van Damme. And I think you come close."
Doom's orange aura grew brighter, more intense, avarice radiating from him like heat.
"You are now a slave to the orange spectrum, whatever it is," Reed said. "You have given yourself to it. Just like Van Damme. He became a thing, absorbing people and technology, consuming everything he touched. No principles. No vision. Just hunger. You are the same. A failure to the convictions all Dooms have."
"FAILURE?!" Doom's voice thundered, shaking the walls.
"DOOM DID NOT FAIL! DOOM CONQUERED!" The entire building trembled with his rage.
"Damme was consumed by his transformation, yes," Doom admitted, his voice regaining control. He reached into a portal and pulled out the crumpled mask of Victor Van Damme, this universe's pathetic version, and crushed it in his hands, reducing it to dust. "He became a slave to his own power. Pathetic."
Doom's eyes blazed with orange fire. "But Doom does not submit. Doom conquers. I looked upon Avarice itself, the endless hunger that has consumed countless beings across the multiverse, and I made it kneel."
He gestured, and the orange light in his chest pulsed, as did the ring on his finger. "Through sorcery, through will, through Doom's genius, I bound the orange light. I mastered it. Where so many others became slaves, Doom became a god. Every enemy defeated serves Doom eternally. Every victory compounds infinitely. I did not fall to a lesser power, Richards. I elevated it."
Reed was suddenly surrounded by orange constructs, an army of heroes and beings Doom had defeated. Heroes from dozens of universes. Cosmic beings. Gods. All reforged as Doom's eternal servants.
"You mistake mastery for corruption," Doom continued, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "I am not a lesser Doom. I am the Doom who succeeded where all others failed or fell."
"I conquered want itself!"
Doom roared and attacked, constructs surging forward.
Reed attacked as well, stretching his body to its absolute limits, his form expanding and contracting in impossible ways. He wrapped around Victor like a python, saying, "I win, Victor," as his elongated fingers reached for the Starheart embedded in Doom's chest.
"Doom bows to no one," Victor said coldly. "Especially not to you, Richards."
He unleashed his power. Orange energy exploded outward with catastrophic force. Reed was thrown back, his stretched body snapping violently toward normal. Doom followed with a massive blast, and the constructs around Reed held him down. Johnny. Ben. Susan. They pinned his elastic form in place as the attack warped around him.
Reed was consumed, his body being converted into a construct.
Doom laughed as silence filled the room.
He raised his hand to create a new construct servant from Reed's remains, adding another to his army.
Nothing happened.
The orange light flickered. No construct formed.
Doom stared at the place where Reed had fallen, his expression darkening with anger.
Reed was not dead.
Someone had taken him. Stolen his victory. Denied him his prize.
With an angry swirl of his cape, Doom opened a portal and stepped through it. His mind set on finding who took Richards from him.
.
.
.
The Hell Lords were all gathered, watching their champions jump from universe to universe, killing Avengers, destroying hope, and spreading despair.
Mephisto looked around and saw the other eight assembled in the infernal council chamber.
There was the large armored variant of himself, the one who had brought them all together, whom he called Twelve.
The fat one, whose bulk seemed to fill half the chamber, his many chins wobbling with each breath.
The female, beautiful and terrible in equal measure, her beauty a trap hiding endless cruelty.
The thin, skeletal one, little more than bone wrapped in stretched skin.
The serpent, massive and scaled, coiled around the perimeter of the chamber.
The dragon, who had only recently woken from slumber.
The bearded one with the eye patch, whom Mephisto considered the strangest of them all.
And finally, the child, who appeared no older than ten, yet whose eyes held eons of malice. Mephisto found him the most unnerving of all.
"Our champions perform admirably," Twelve said, gesturing to the viewing orbs that showed entire universes burning.
"Then why do we wait?" the serpent hissed. "Let us begin. Let us all taste supreme power."
The female, the fat one, the dragon, the bearded one, and the thin skeletal one all voiced their agreement, eager to begin the final phase.
"They are not ready," the child said.
Everyone turned to look at him.
He gestured, and the orbs shifted, showing different scenes. The Avengers fighting off dimensional invasions. The brutal battle with Zgreb the Celestial. Victories snatched from impossible odds.
"Our champions are equal in power to them," the child continued. "They need to be stronger." His young face twisted with frustration. "Our target grows stronger as well. Every battle makes him more formidable. We cannot afford to strike without certainty of victory."
The fat one shifted his bulk, causing the chamber floor to groan. "I share your concerns about our champions." He looked directly at Twelve. "This Doom will betray us. I have dealt with versions of him many times. He is no ally to any Mephisto, no matter which version."
Twelve laughed. "I know."
"He defeated Galactus," the child added, his voice grave. "That is no ordinary feat."
"A weakened Galactus," Twelve corrected. "The weakest in the multiverse. Do not concern yourselves with Doom. I know his plans. When the time comes, I will dispose of him, just as you all intend to dispose of the other champions once they have served their purpose."
"The Lantern can be defeated," Twelve continued calmly. "Doom will be able to subdue him. I am sure of it."
Mephisto spoke up, his smile widening. "Perhaps we will not need the Lantern at all."
Twelve looked at him sharply. "Of course we do. He is the key to the Quarry."
"Yes, I know," Mephisto said, his smile becoming something truly demonic. With a motion of his hand, he changed the scene in the viewing orb.
The image shifted to show Max and Firehair passionately kissing as they fell onto a bed. Max was on top of her, their bodies intertwined, lost in each other.
"Oh, how romantic," the female Hell Lord said mockingly, leaning forward with interest.
"Bah!" the child said in disgust, turning away.
Mephisto's smile widened further, his teeth fully bared in near glee. "I have been thinking about the key to the Quarry. Yes, the Lantern is needed. But perhaps we could use something else." His eyes gleamed with malicious triumph. "Something I believe will come soon enough. And it would be far easier to retrieve and use than the Lantern himself."
The female was the first to understand. Her gaze lingered on Max and Firehair, comprehension dawning. She began to laugh.
"Oh!" she cackled. "You devious bastard!"
The fat one's eyes widened as he began wheezing with laughter. "Oh! Oh, that is brilliant!"
"Yessss… yesssss!" the serpent hissed.
The dragon's rumbling laughter shook the chamber. "Ha! Magnificent!"
The thin one's skeletal grin widened. "Clever. Very clever."
The bearded one still had not grasped it. He looked confused.
The child, despite his earlier disgust, began to giggle, a deeply unsettling sound. "Oh, this will be delightful!"
"Ah, I understand!" Twelve said at last.
Their combined laughter echoed through the infernal chamber, a sound that promised suffering and despair.
In the viewing orb, Max and Firehair remained oblivious, lost in each other, unaware of the doom being planned for them.
.
.
.
Reed opened his eyes.
He was surprised.
He was certain he was dead.
He was never wrong about things like that. He had examined every possibility of survival in those final moments, calculated every variable, every quantum probability, every conceivable escape route. His death had been a certainty. The mathematics were absolute.
And this was not any scenario he had predicted.
He looked around and saw that he was lying in a desert. The sky above him was evening, the sun setting in brilliant oranges and purples over an endless sea of sand dunes.
He stood. His suit's systems activated automatically, running diagnostics and scanning his surroundings.
He began calculating where he was, and more importantly, when he was. The star alignments in the sky were wrong. Not just slightly off, but dramatically different from any configuration he had observed in his lifetime.
A display projected from his suit's holographic interface identified his location.
The Sahara Desert.
Then it displayed the year, extrapolated from stellar positions, atmospheric composition, and geological markers.
Approximately 5,500 years ago.
Additional data confirmed something even more troubling.
He was not in his own universe anymore.
.
.
Changed the lore of the island of Okkara a bit.