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There was no disputing that The Dragon had a few tricks up his black, leather motorcycle jacket sleeve; it seemed only a matter of hours before a brand-new flag was flying from a tall, shiny pole outside the Kaos Army headquarters. It was black. The logo General Warlock had designed was simple black and white, with a slim white border around the logo's edge. It reminded Anar a bit of a Jolly Rodger pirate's flag and he rather liked it.

He admired it proudly, flapping in the mild desert breeze while he walked around his new favourite finds: one was a World War II jeep, a bit rusted and rather the worse for wear, but still fully functioning and easy to drive, he'd spent some time throwing it around the desert, kicking up dust and feeling the hot suns beating down on him as it had no roof.

The other was a massive great hulking slab of a machine with riveted hatches and extra plates all over the place, and wheels almost as tall as he was if you counted the ears, and he always counted the ears. It had a raised enamel badge in the shape of a 'T' on the front and TITAN PHASE emblazoned on the rear. Unlike the Jeep which Anar had snagged himself from the dead Earth they had visited, along with Jerry cans of fuel to run it with, this motorised beast had been gifted to them by their boss from a world too alien for them to visit in person. As with everything they had encountered thus far it had no user manual, no instructions, absolutely no warranty, and they had to work it all out by themselves through trial and error. Under its hood, among various alien writings, was a line of familiar Earth English - Quantum Engine: do not disassemble. Authorised technicians only.

DANGER OF DEATH.

So, that was lovely. What a thoughtful gift!

Luckily Anar knew a solar panel when he saw one, and as there was no fuel cap and no charging port it was safe to assume it ran on sunlight... somehow. It was fun to drive, you sat up high on soft comfy seats and with a suspension so good you could barely tell that there weren't actually any roads out here on this funny planet, whereas the jeep was janky and squeaky, with nothing to stop your arse feeling every pebble it ran over. They were parked together side by side by the double doors; past and future, both with their pros and cons.

He missed his Ferrari. As much as it had been a passive aggressive argumentative car, it had made him feel good whizzing around in it. Throw on a pair of shades and he could be a movie star or a millionaire playboy. Neither of the options in front of him quite had that edge.

This world was still in the horse and cart stage and that immediately made him think of Destroyer the Nightmare, who he had last seen after they'd broke Jez Huttgart out of the detention centre in Hell together. Yesterday. 'Blimey, time is a weird thing', he thought, 'it almost feels like a lifetime ago.' A funny queasy feeling set in his stomach. Thinking about time just reminded him that he had literally lost fifteen years of it. He was closer to death, to checking out of the land of the living, and yet he had barely even begun to actually live. It was all so unfair. So unjust. So typical of Hell! He closed his stinging eyes and bellowed out into the emptiness, "Destroyer!"

"Settle down," came the brusque reply.

Anar turned to the familiar large, black equine creature and buried his face into the silken mane. His shoulders shook, but just for a moment.

"Are you quite all right, master Warlock?"

There was a muffled sob before Anar took hold of himself and straightened himself out again, "yes, I'm fine," he lied, sniffing and blinking rapidly. "It's good to see you again."

Large eyes scanned him with interest.

"I know. I look different. No horns, no wings, no tail. I look older too. I am aware," he shrugged and flapped his arms wretchedly, gazing to the sandy ground.

"Actually, I was thinking how you looked so much more as I remembered you. It was that old horned and winged self that seemed different. Now I'm about to say something that may be rather obvious, and I do not wish to provoke a sarcastic response, but I fear that is what I am going to get; you're not on your home world master Warlock."

Anar kicked at a pebble, "I know. My returning papers for the Abyssal Gate were altered and I'm here on the Black Planet. I'm..." he took a breath, forming the words deliberately, "General Warlock now. Of the Kaos Army. Look-" he nodded to the flag with a semblance of a smile, "I designed that. That's our flag. I still don't know quite what we're about but, well, it's an adventure isn't it?"

The Nightmare pushed his velvet muzzle to the aardvark's chest fondly. "You've always been General Warlock, master, and I'm proud to be your companion and steed. Even when you left me and went through that difficult phase in the Underworld - wearing lots of black and being grumpy, I was still your steadfast friend." He accepted a pat on his flank. "Where are the green fellows?" he raised his head again to look about.

"Oh ... Rap and Rave, yeah I left them with The dragon interviewing cooks for the kitchen. I told them as long as they can make a good bacon sandwich I'm happy to sign them off, but knowing our luck we'll probably get Swedish Chef from The Muppets serving up sweet and sour gerbil." He chuckled at his own joke but knew it could well be truth. "I was worried you'd not be able to find me here for a hot minute, being so far from home. If I can call you then I should be able to reach Guen..."

With another holler his Astral cat pattered out to him from his particular plane of existence and stretched out his lithe feline body while yawning widely. Giving the boring, surrounding landscape a disgusted sneer he set to washing his ears busily as Anar scratched at his chest. Unlike Destroyer, Guen couldn't communicate using speech, but he didn't have to; his looks and yowls said all he needed to: feed me or let me sleep. He turned his dark and starry body around three times before curling up in front of his master purring loudly. Big soppy kitty was all an act. This was a ferocious animal that had devoured a high-level minion without so much as chewing. Rap was marginally afraid of him, after years of being bowled over in a tiny kitchen by the massive cat when he'd wanted saucers of milk.

Anar felt much better now that both his animal friends were able to come to him with ease. It reminded him of the very beginning of his magical journey, when it had seemed exciting and thrilling to have natural magic running in his veins, and the realisation that he was in for Bad Times hadn't sunk in yet.

"The Dragon told me there are other magic users here," he stated conversationally, "I wonder if that means other magical animals too? Maybe a new one will find me, and you'll have another friend to hang out with?"

Destroyer swished his long thick tail, "I'd like to find another Nightmare. They can't all be dead. I refuse to believe I'm the last of my kind."

Guen contributed to all this by sleeping, soundly, as felines are so fond of doing. He most likely did not want to find another Astral panther as that would mean competition for attention and food!

"I do have the issue of giving you a stable," Anar frowned. "And some grass. We don't have either at the moment. I'll have to sort that out, along with the million other things on my 'to-do' list that's as long as my arm. One thing's for sure, I shan't be bored here! It's uniforms we're having a meeting about next, though I get the feeling Rap is going to dominate in that particular meeting. I want a fancy jacket if I'm in charge..." A thought struck him. "hey, Des, what kind of uniform did your old General Warlock have? Like... it wasn't actual armor or anything, was it? Maybe one of those men dresses... tunic, that's the word."

The big black horse gave him a bemused expression. As far as Destroyer was concerned, Anar and his distant ancestor of the same name were the same person, and questions like these often led to confusion.

He took a patient breath, "what did I used to wear, Destroyer?"

"Hmmm.... That bad rat Nisgarant had you garbed in flowing crimson cloth under your armor plating to represent the blood that you spilled. I never saw that for myself though, as you were not a true Warlock then and I had not found you. I have vivid recollections of you in blue robes to complement the colour of your magic."

"Blue for magic. Red for blood. Hmmm. Probably not practical for a military uniform but we'll see. I mean, not doing what we're supposed to do is probably going to be our whole thing..."

"You never did what you were supposed to do, that's what started the whole Warlock troubles!" Destroyer brayed with amusement, waking Guen up who immediately pricked his ears, hoping for food.

"Come on you, let's see if we can get you something from the kitchen now we've got a cook. Rap is going to be so happy to see you again," he said to his cat while it yelled a loud meow that could probably be heard the other side of the compound.

"Des, I've had a thought. I know, I know, a dangerous thing, very funny... do you have enough of my magic left to go back to uncle Mortimer for me, and let him know I'm ok?"

"Ok for now," the Nightmare snorted, "if I leave you, anything could happen! A Warlock needs a Nightmare by their side for protection, and a journey like that will take so much..."

"Go on, please," he pushed gently, "Whenever and wherever he is, I just need him to know I got out of Hell in one piece. Mostly. I'll try to call you back when things have settled down here and you've got a nice place to sleep and hang out. Just imagine - me in full fancy uniform riding on your back to go see the elves or something, yeah?"

A dinner-plate sized hoof stamped, "that's more like it!" he said with a shake of his mane, "just like old times!"

"Just like old times," Anar agreed with only a slight roll of his eyes, "right. Off you pop then! Come on you, you're coming with me..." he tilted his head and Guen padded inside with him to the kitchen as the Nightmare faded away with a lingering whinny.

The great panther was beside himself to see his old pal and milk-giver Rap again, and the small, meek raptor hit the deck with a 'thump!' as his green lizard legs were promptly taken out from under him.

"Oh, cripes, the cat's back," he wailed as a pink rough tongue licked at his cheek, leaving kitty dribble.

"MROW!" Guen said, swishing his tail.

"He's missed you," Anar grinned.

"Has he now?" Rap was helped to his feet by Rave, who attempted to shoo the beast unsuccessfully, earning himself a swipe in the process.

"No-one's missed him..."

"You're just jealous you don't have a magical cat," the aardvark General humphed, approaching the serving counter to request some milk and tuna from the brand-new catering staff. "Anyway, you know Guen, he'll spend most of his time as a plushie toy while his spirit is in the Astral plane. Though it is fun to let him loose when you least expect it..."

"I'll let you loose when you least expect it!"

"Rave, that doesn't even make any sense. Finish your lunch and get yourselves back to the War Room."

"Bloody hell, he's only been in the job a day and he's bossing us about already. I'm going AWOL if he keeps this up."

Rap looked concerned, "don't do that, dear, you'll misalign your chakras. You remember what happened last time?"

"That wasn't going AWOL! I had a bloody stroke! It's a miracle I'm still here. Should have had proper medical care and all I got was a bit of pretty rock thrust in my palm and an incense stick jabbed up me nose while you tried to summon Cthulhu..."

"It was an ancient Tibetan healing chant."

"I was expecting tentacles any minute!"

"War room! Now!" Anar barked, leaving his cat to eat in peace. "And you didn't have a real stroke, Rave, you had _sun_stroke. After drinking all the White Lightning and passing out on the dorm balcony back at College..."