The tower of the gods

He shifted his glasses as he looked upon the vast expanse of the caldisla ocean.

“Marvelous.” he muttered, and he took it all in.

How long had it been since he'd seen the realm? Since he'd been awake?

He'd been lost in a nigh-eternal dream ever since that awful day, but now he was awake, his body had apparently been enshrined in the vast tower behind him, it's sheer girth stretched for miles on end and it pierced the heavens.

His black attire was laced with bits of jewelry he didn't recognize, including tiny incense pots hanging from gold chains wrapped about his black robes.

He had been asleep for a very, very long time, but he wasn't sure how long.

He'd been certain the world, and mankind, had come to its tragic conclusion, but it seemed that now humanity, or some race that had become their heir, lived on.

He alone might have survived the great disaster.

He thought no more of it as he eagerly awaited the keepers of this tower, the tower itself was bereft of people, though he'd not bothered to explore it, but torches had been lit and were still burning, so surely someone must have been there recently.

He'd awoken on an altar carved with images he didn't immediately recognize, strange symbols and pictures depicting a bizarre race.

Still, as he waited there, stretching and yawning, soon a boat, a small one with a hooded figure rowing did approach across the misty waters, the waves tossing the boat about unceremoniously as he came to moor, staring up at his awoken guest in surprise before hastily tying the boat off and rushing to him.

The figure's hood was ridiculously long, coming to stoop well over his face, and the figure looked him over, coming in close and sniffing loudly.

“How...curious.” the figure muttered. “we did not expect that you would...ever awaken.” the figure wore many prayer beads and rosaries around his arms, the robe he wore was tattered and brown, but fitted with symbols that were holy in nature.

The character bowed and muttered prayers of “Alimahka, alimahka.”
after listening to the prayers for a bit, the figure introduced himself.

“I am charon, keeper of the tower and the ocean of time. You….you are...a human? Tell me true! Are you of the race of gods that left us so many years ago?”

“Gods….” he muttered as he glanced back at the tower.

“Yes….your kind, the blessed gods….who brought us out of our state as mere creatures and blessed us with the same intellect and allowed us to share your form, here..behold!”

Charon threw back his hood to reveal a canine head, the ears of a pittbull mastiff and the short snout, attached to a firm neck that practically bristled with muscles under glossy black fur.

His hands, while human, were themselves covered in fur, something he'd not noticed because the hands were hidden beneath the sleeves, though the prayer beads and rosaries hung free like moss from a tree branch, clattering and clacking.

“It is good to see that the one god who remained in this world did not abandon us!! oh the emperor shall be pleased!! Alimahkaaaa...” he prayed once more and with a sigh, the human introduced himself.

“My name is….Victor.”

“the divine victor….I shall remember this name!! oh his majesty will be pleased!! our prayers to the gods have been answered, their chosen representative on gaia has awoken to guide us into a new future!!”

Victor considered that for a moment, then with a smile, he patted charon on the shoulder and moved to enter the tower.

“Tell me about the world...everything. I wish to know what has changed since mankind allowed global warming to take its toll.”

he stared once more out to the ocean, the ruins of caldisla, he assumed, surely beneath her emerald waves and he smiled, a contented smile, a reminder that he alone had survived because he alone had accessed the magic font in a vain effort to save the world with its power.

He alone had become immortal thanks to this.

He was the last human in the world.