(a tattooed brow raises at the hand, but higgs never looked a gift horse in the mouth. he takes it, leather-and-gold glove leaving tezcatlipoca with a little more residue than he had on his exit from the ground.

once they've hauled his ass out, he leans back into his tired sit to pant at the tree canopy high above. and fuck him, he's seen plenty of trees—trees and shrubs and underbrush—but none like this. it's monumental, a support pillar for the goddamn sky.

he whistles a low whistle, checking tezcatlipoca out again with a more discerning eye.) Sure, if you like being raptured. I had a whole plan, but that don't make me so unique. Everybody else did, too. (they're not his problem anymore.

so, who is? what is?)

Game over... huh. Not the way I expected this all to go down. I was supposed to lose. Now what?