Looking out the window revealed worlds he had never imagine. On the run from one mechanized destroyer after another, iron works of horror from another age, Shamash had never expected to see allies. All around they were there. Dragons, jaws agape, blazing past them with a mighty roar as they went to face the enemy. Give them a chance to escape. At his side in this flight, astride a dragon of their own - named Ember, in fact - was Tyr. The one-handed Norse god of justice who had a penchant for whiskey and black women. Shamash didn't know how they had come to be here, but here they were. Wait. No. He knew. Guarded by the pilots of those monstrosities who called themselves Po-Po. They were preparing to sacrifice both deities to the great and powerful Judge Ronald Thompson. Terrible creatures, those judges, with five mouths - each one letting slip a peal of flame born in hell when they roared their dominion over all creation. Shamash couldn't help but let loose a war whoop, and raise the saw high above his head.

( The dragons would end this once and for all. )