Billy “Fast-Hands” Legume was not a man who enjoyed being made a fool of, but as he stood in the dusty town square, his hand hovering uncertainly over his holstered pistol, he couldn’t help but feel that someone somewhere was laughing at him. Under the town clock, on the far side of the square, the werewolf stretched in readiness, its haunches sinking low to the ground. Billy licked his parched lips. Now he had a chance to look at it, the creature struck him as strangely vulnerable, its soft brown eyes holding a spark of the compassion he imagined could one day blossom into something like love. Suddenly, the werewolf rose into the air, surrounded by the faint blue glow of quantum repulsor fields.
‘What the?’ Billy mumbled.
‘A minor setback, nothing more,’ said his manservant Bearsonly, brushing a speck of dust from his jacket. ‘We shall deal with the beast.’
Before they could do anything, however, the ground before them was torn asunder and a thunderous noise, like to the report of one thousand thousand cannons, announced the long-foretold rising of Kgathrhyxl, Lord of the Maelstrom.