Even with the knowledge at Aforgomon's disposal, the exact time during which it invaded Thalios' dream escaped it.  Several minutes after its emergence into the waking world, the Great One became too aware of the difference in the very air.  It could not help but feel as if something was different, akin to a doctor reentering his office to find that a mischievous colleague rearranged all of his personal effects.  When it came, the conclusion did not ultimately rattle Aforgomon.  Metaphorically speaking, it existed solely within the greater scheme of things, and in this significant realm a single month mattered not at all.  What could a few weeks take away from the span of a being perhaps as infinite as the cosmos itself?

Thanks to some divine telepathy, Aforgomon was able to give meaning to its eternal, toothy smirk.  Sympathetic in spirit, the shambler relished the gratitude of Thalios nearly as much as it delighted in the idea of a debt.  Debt demands service, service elicits covenant, and covenant requires oath.  Nothing struck Aforgomon as more fitting than a god of nightmares taking an oath to a sojourner of dreams.

Olympus, home of the gods, seemed oddly devoid.  Only minor godlings moved about it now.  Aforgomon materialized in front of the first one that piqued its interest.  Walking to the tune of the steady [i]clunk[/i] of his armor, Crater, a descendant of the Ganymede, cupbearer to Zeus, traversed the distance between storeroom and dining hall.  Not all Olympians chose to sup on nectar all the time, and whenever a special request was made, this metal-shelled servant would respond.  More than a simple cupbearer, however, Crater held faith with the ideas of classic adventure and heroism, fighting with gusto alongside any greater god that allowed him to accompany them into battle.  Before this [url=http://orig15.deviantart.net/e801/f/2012/257/f/2/character_study_07_by_tahra-d5emt72.jpg]individual[/url] the Great One appeared, only a head and the upper-left half of its body poking from a ripple of light.  Amazed but not terrified by the sight, Crater ceased his brisk walk, and upon the steel handle of his jug his gloved fingers tightened.  [i]It craves my insight,[/i] the servant knight knew. [i]Wants to know where the others have gone.[/i]  “Er, invites appeared earlier today for a number of the Merged.  A casual picnic in Asgard.  Childish, perhaps, but no less comfortable for it.  I'm sure even you would be welcome?”  Crater winced, hoping that Aforgomon wouldn't take offense.  Fortunately, the phantom vanished before it could, and the cupbearer let out his breath in a long, slow stream from the slit in his helmet.  “Whew.”

[center]-=-=-[/center]

'Welcome' embodied a concept that did not really concern Aforgomon.  On what basis might some being brand it unwelcome?  Security?  Other entities flitted across the planes more subtly and with more malice than the shambler, but they aroused no such scrutiny.  If only the other gods could rouse themselves to realize the greater purpose that Aforgomon served for posterity.

In Asgard, not too far from the tree under which the young, carefree gods picnicked, the light warped and ripped apart.  Aforgomon arrived in only the most cursory respect, manifest little more than a bright and vague outline.  Even to the Merged, it would be difficult to spy.  In this barely-present form, the Great One walked quietly and serenely among them, younger and yet somehow older than the others whose lesser heights might have made them seem like children by comparison if only there were eyes to see.  Thalios' announcement only interested Aforgomon until it realized that by the 'old gods', Thalios meant the previous Olympians.  In that, the shambler had no stake.  Come what may, its quest would persevere.