Honor the Lost

Tycondrius sipped on the hot coffee, swirling the liquid around in his mouth. 

The poison granted it a distinct flavor... but not one that was particularly pleasant. 

"So uh... how... f*cked are we, LT?" Krysaos asked. 

Tycon felt his jaw drop. He was so surprised, he nearly gasped aloud. 

It seemed that Krysaos had realized that the coffee was poisoned. Though mundane poisons were ineffective against gods and Gold-Rank snakes, it was nice to see the improvement in the Captain's general awareness. 

Or perhaps the man had noticed that everyone in the small diner exuded killing intent towards them? 

While still laudable... the fact was almost insultingly obvious. 

"I mean... overall," Krysaos clarified. 

"Overall?" Tycon frowned, "Ah. Concerning recent events in the Tree God's Forest... we have reached 'end of the Realm as we know it' levels of... f*cked-- so to speak."

Krysaos loosed a slow whistle in response...