fullparagon

The Second Archon War: Carmen Dei 26

Carmen Dei 26: The Rabbit and the Princess

The wind at Amber’s back was warm and gentle, her glider riding on it easily as she peered at the battlefield below her. There was smoke and dust filling the air that obscured things, but her modified goggles allowed her to see into the ultraviolet and infrared spectrums. Frequent use meant the new colors no longer made her nauseous.

What did make her nauseous was to see all the dead bodies scattered in the snow. It was heartbreaking to see the bodies of Polish soldiers, and even worse, Knights that she knew dead on the field. The worst though were the civilians. Most had evacuated, but…not all of them. 

Many of the corpses were Fatui, which Amber tried not to feel too bad about. They had been the ones to invade Poland, and they all served the Tsaritsa, who was pretty close to the Devil in the new cosmology that Amber was believing in more fervently by the day.

No, the Tsaritsa isn’t the Devil. That’s…Him…

Furtively, Amber checked the skies about her, but didn’t see a golden streak. For several months now, Scion has been largely missing from Earth Bet. It had caused only a minor sensation at first, but there was more and more talk online about just why the Golden Devil King was absent. Frankly, Amber was glad he was gone, at least for now. Anyone who molested Lord Buer had to be evil. She was just a little girl!

“Vengence to Outrider, come in, Outrider,” Lauren’s voice said in Amber’s ear. 

Amber smiled and used her tongue to activate the radio she’d implanted in one of her teeth. She just had so MANY ideas for inventions these days! It wasn’t like it was at all before Lord Barbados’ blessing where all she’d had ideas for were gliders and exploding dolls. It was probably because he’d exorcised the demon that had been possessing her. 

“This is Outrider. What’s up, Vengeance?” 

“How’s the scouting mission? Do we have another attack incoming?” Lauren asked, her tone crisp and to the point. 

Looking up from the ground, Amber grimaced at the massive storm front ahead of her. The wall of ice and fog where Lord Barbatos’ warm wind met the Tsaritsa’s icy gale. Not even her enhanced vision could penetrate that, even with the module to detect elemental energy. The storm was completely unnatural, and any attempt to see into it or explore it had been met with poor results. 

“Skies are clear today, except for, well, you know. I’m not detecting any movement at the moment, but- wait. Something’s happening in the storm!” 

Elemental energy flared, and Amber desperately tried to get her glider around. She was five clicks away from the storm wall, but she knew perfectly well that wasn’t nearly far enough if one of the Fatui’s Movers appeared to confront her. She currently had on active camouflage that should hide her from most things, but while Amber was stealthy and had excellent information-gathering hardware, she wasn’t terribly effective at aerial combat. 

“Amber?! Amber, what’s happening!” Lauren’s panicked voice cried, but Amber was already turning about and trying to head away from the storm as fast as she could, desperately praying to Barbados as she did so. 

“Lord of Anemo and Angel of Freedom, please send winds to guide your servant to safety,” Amber gasped desperately as two shapes broke out of the blizzard, flying at her own altitude and heading straight for her. 

At first, she thought it was the Servant and the Dancer. If it was, she was dead, or worse. What the Dancer could do to you…they’d seen entire platoons of loyal soldiers wrapped in her strings turn on their comrades, moving to the command of the Fatui Harbinger. The Servant was just a brute who would burn you to death. That was a far kinder fate. 

However, what came out of the storm was just two capes in Fatui uniforms. After a moment, Amber recognized them both. “It’s Foxbat and Frogfoot. They probably can’t see me, but I’m diving down to get out of their range. You’ll need to send someone to take care of them.”

Both Russian capes were your standard Flying Blaster setups, though they both bore Delusions that amplified their powers. In Foxbat’s case, he had a Pyro Delusion, while Frogfoot had an Anemo. Both of them were serious threats on their lonesome, but together they could be the forerunners of another assault by the Fatui. 

Making for the deck, Amber alighted onto a frozen field, before folding her glider up onto her back and scurrying into a ditch. She could see the two Fatui capes tracing lazy lines in the sky. They probably hadn’t known Amber was there, but both sides had scouts to monitor what the other side was doing at all hours. 

The Fatui pushed more than 30 kilometers into Poland in the last ten days on the Belarus front and were nearly to Bialystok. Latvia, Estonia, and Moldova had also suffered invasions, and had fared even worse, mostly falling into Russian hands. The Finns had declared war but were simply biding their time, waiting for Russia to invade while they fortified. For now, Europe was reeling, and if something didn’t change soon, all of Eastern Europe might fall. 

There was a streak in the sky, and Amber felt her heart leap as bright beams of green light flashed, one of them impacting Foxbat, who burst into flames. Legend! And by the looks of things, he wasn’t alone. Five capes flying in formation raced towards the battlefield, and fire and lasers burnt lines in Amber’s vision.

“The Protectorate is responding, hang tight,” Lauren’s voice called.

“I can see them! Legend and four others,” Amber said, feeling a sense of relief. She looked back towards the storm wall, frowning. “But the Imps wouldn’t have just sent two…”

Sure enough, more shapes emerged from the storm, some flying, others not. Amber dove for cover as explosions began to rock the sky, bursts of elemental reactions and parahuman displays of power. No Harbingers yet, but if one of them did emerge, it would get nasty, fast.

The skirmish grew into a full-blown battle as ground forces moved in on both sides, and Amber could only hunker down and report back to command as she ID’d Fatui capes and units maneuvering onto the field. It was too dangerous for her to take off, but she was close enough to the front and well-hidden enough that her information was invaluable to NATO forces brawling with the Fatui. 

A body crashed to the ground only a dozen meters from amber, the snow melting with a hiss. She ran over with her first aid kit, uncertain who had been hurt, but not willing to let someone suffer and die if she could help it. 

She turned the body over, and grimaced, recognizing a Fatui uniform. The man was dressed in a very colorful version of a Russian Naval Officer’s uniform from the mid-19th century, though with aviator goggles to go with the golden epaulets and long overcoat. He’d been burned, badly, but he was still breathing, if unconscious. He had an Electro Vision and an Anemo Delusion, so Amber quickly took both of those and hid them back in the ditch. Without them, he’d be mostly powerless, though she still had to be careful. 

“I’ve got a prisoner. He’s in bad shape, but he looks to be a Lieutenant from their aviation corps,” Amber reported. 

“Understood, we’ll send a squad to pick them up when the battle dies down,” a stranger’s voice said. Lauren took to the field some time ago, and Amber could only pray she was safe. Her friend tended to throw herself into the thick of the fighting and rely on the power of The Song of Broken Pines, a blessed sword gifted to her by Lord Barbatos, to protect herself. She was only an Electro Vision Holder though, so it wasn’t like she could duel a high end Fatui cape, and especially not a Harbinger. 

Treating the fatuus’ wounds, Amber could only hope she could keep the man alive until that squad came. He had burns over a great deal of his body and was bleeding badly, as well as who knew how many internal injuries. A Vision holder was a lot tougher than a normal human, but only action hero tough. A high enough fall could still kill them, especially if you took away their Vision before they could use it to heal. 

Still, Amber had invented some rather clever first-aid devices that should help with the burns and internal bleeding, and she did her best to apply them to her patient. She thought she just about had him stabilized, when she noticed that the storm wall was advancing towards her, and doing so rapidly. 

“Command! The Tsaritsa’s Will is moving towards me, and quick! I’m going to have to fall back and abandon my prisoner!” Amber said, turning to spring away from the oncoming storm. 

“Understood, Vorreiter, get out of there! The Dancer and the Servant have taken the field, and Legend is being pushed back. We’ve already lost too many capes, we can’t afford to lose you as well.”

Amber didn’t even get up to a sprint before she tripped, crying out in pain as something bit into her legs. She looked on in horror as frost-covered thorns grew up around her. Desperately, she made one final call.

“Retreat! Get everyone out of here! It’s the Princess! The Imperial Princess is-”

Amber cut herself off as the storm enveloped her, cold biting into her bones as thorns surrounded her. She could only shrink back in horror as a shadow appeared from nowhere with glowing green eyes. 

SURRENDER. DO NOT RESIST.

Amber’s goggles fogged up as tears of fear and pain clouded her vision. She tried to think of a way out of this. She had a couple of Baron Bunnies on her. She could just detonate them. They probably wouldn’t harm the Princess, but she would die. That might be preferable to being captured by the Fatui. Other capes had been taken. When the Dancer got her strings on them…

There wasn’t anything left when they had to cut down their old friends. Just puppets. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Amber sobbed out, “I-I’m sorry, Lauren! Stay safe! I-I commit my soul to Lord Barbados, t-that he might guide me t-to Freedom Eternal in the next life.”

She reached for her Baron Bunnies to set them off, but thorny vines grew about her arms, locking her in place. She struggled desperately, writhing and twisting in a futile attempt to either free herself or kill herself. Either would work. She just couldn’t fall into Fatui hands. 

“W-why are you trying to kill yourself?! I was going to take you alive! Stop it!” 

Amber froze, trembling as she looked up into the concerned face of a young girl, who couldn’t have been more than 14 or so. Yes, that was right, Kollei Moskaylova was approximately that age. 

“You just want to mind control me to use me against my friends!” Amber spat, still struggling against the vines, forcing thorns to bite into her flesh through her flying leathers. 

“I won’t let Nastya have you, don’t worry,” the Princess said gently, kneeling down beside Amber and putting a shockingly gentle hand on her head. “You saved Fedot. You earned that much.”

Resisting the urge to bite at the hand, Amber hung there suspended by the vines, panting for breath, her mind racing. Could she survive this? “How can I trust the Fatui? You’ve turned so many of my friends against us. I watched Elke and Adrian kill half a dozen of their former friends before we could stop them!” 

“That is…” Kollei looked away, licking her chapped lips nervously. “That is not what I would have happen…only love can change people’s hearts.”

Amber could only stare at the Princess in shock at that. Love? What did any of this have to do with Love? 

“Look just…don’t resist. You’ll be my prisoner. They won’t touch you,” Kollei said. “Do you promise?” 

Closing her eyes again, Amber forced back a sob. She really didn’t want to die. She had so much more to live for! She hadn’t even found a boyfriend yet! Not that there had been much time with the war and all. 

“Fine,” she spat, glaring up at the Princess. “I won’t promise I won’t try to escape, but I won’t kill myself. Not unless the Dancer tries to take me.”

“Very well,” the Princess agreed, and the thorns about Amber retracted, dropping her on the ground. She winced and tried to move, but pain lanced up her arms and legs where the barbs had pierced her, and she cried out involuntarily. 

“Shhh. Hold still,” the Princess said, and warm green light flowed over her hands and into Amber. She shivered as her wounds began to knit, as the Dendro was infused with an icy chill she was all too familiar with. Even the blessing of Lord Buer was cursed by the Tsaritsa’s touch.

Once her wounds knit, Amber slowly got to her feet, testing her arms and legs by flexing a little and bouncing on her feet. She was a little stiff, which was usual after a healing like that, but overall felt fine. She nodded, then extended her wrists toward the Princess. Trying to run was pointless: she was a Tinker, not a Brute or Mover, and without her gadgets there was very little she could do. “Alright. Tie me up.”

“Do you give me your word of honor and parole as a knight that you won’t try to escape? If you swear to me, I won’t bind you,” the Princess said seriously. “Otherwise…it’s the thorns.”

Wincing, Amber considered that. There wasn’t much known about Kollei Moskaylova, now Imperial Princess Kollei Snezhnaya. She had been some sort of orphan girl who according to the doctrine preached by the Church of the Frozen Heart. Supposedly, Kollei had been the first to find the Tsaritsa after her battle with the evil Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, and had given the fallen god succor and comfort despite her destitution. For her act of simple love, she had been elevated above all other mortals, adopted as the Tsarita’s daughter, and granted a portion of her power. 

What they knew from Kollei’s actions during the Butcher of Kyiv and her embassy to Poland was that she was not as cruel or harsh as her adoptive mother. More prone to kindness and diplomacy than ruthless cold conquest. She had also been granted a Dendro Vision, which meant she was an optimist and altruist at heart who valued wisdom and life. To be otherwise would cause her Vision to be forfeit. 

So, weighing that in mind, and against her better judgment, Amber swallowed. “I swear by the Winds of Freedom not to attempt to escape, so long as you are my captor. I give you my word and parole as a Knight of Favonius.”

A cold chill suddenly invaded Amber’s very soul, and she gasped in shock. A weight pressed onto her shoulders, and it felt as though tight bonds had wrapped themselves over her heart. 

“I accept this Oath, under the Authority of my Mother, the Cryo Archon, Dantilion, as the Princess of all Russias,” Kollei declared, her eyes glowing first green, then blue. 

The chill faded, but Amber’s heart was pounding, and she gasped for breath, eyes wide. What had she just sworn to? She didn’t mean to break her oath, far from it, but now…she didn’t think she COULD try to escape, even if she wanted to. She knew that something within her would prevent it, that her oath was binding by far more than words and honor. Maybe this had been a mistake.

“Come on. I’ll take you back to my quarters,” Kollei ordered, and Amber’s feet followed after her before she even told them what to do. A portal of ice and thorns appeared, and Amber followed Kollei through it, glancing behind them as they left. 

“What about what was his name, Fedot? Is he going to be alright?” Amber asked worriedly. She shouldn’t feel so bad about a dead Fatuus, she’d killed plenty of them, but, well…she did.

“I healed him and sent him back. I wanted to deal with you myself,” Kollei said, and Amber was forced to follow her as they walked through an alien landscape, looking about with wide eyes. 

All about them was a frozen world, but not like the one they’d left. There were flowers, trees, animals, and swaying grass in abundance, but they were all made of clear crystal that glowed with a soft blue. The path they walked on was marked by icy thorn bushes, but there were green blossoms amidst the brambles. A wild cat of some sort bounded up to Kollei, who giggled and bent down to pick up the icy feline, stroking its back as it purred contentedly. 

Several frozen rabbits hopped up to Amber, sniffing at her, and she bent down, showing them the palm of her hand. They reminded her of Diluc and Kaeya, her own pair of pet rabbits back in Frankfurt. She hoped her mother was taking good care of the boys. Sniffling, she gently stroked the rabbit’s ears, the icy chill from their bodies making her fingers numb. 

“What…what is this place?” Amber asked, looking up at Kollei who was cradling her cat in her arms. 

“This is the Dream. I’ve shaped it, a little, but I think these animals are brought to life by my Mother’s power. Everything she does in the waking world casts a shadow in the dream. You can see the storm just over there…”

Amber looked around, and indeed, outside of a tranquil bubble that surrounded them, no more than 100 meters in diameter, an icy blizzard raged. But just beyond that…

“Lord Barbatos!” Amber gasped, standing upright. She could see a warm, tranquil land, not more than half a kilometer away, where warm breezes soothed a fertile land of peace and freedom. There were fruiting trees and budding flowers, and not the icy, treacherous kind, but beautiful ones, taller and more luscious than any natural forest. 

“Yes, I…wonder about that,” Kollei admitted, coming to stand beside Amber. “My Mother’s lands are blanketed in winter’s grip, but just beyond it…”

“The Lands of Always Winter, but Never Christmas,” Amber muttered, shaking her head. “Ruled by the White Witch.”

Kollei frowned at her, the cat hissing at Amber as the bunnies suddenly hopped away. 

“I-it’s from a book! The Chronicles of Narnia? Um, I read it when I was a girl, maybe about your age,” Amber hastily explained. “They made a TV series…but it’s in English.”

She blinked suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “Um, your German is very good. I don’t speak much Russian.”

“Oh? Ah, I-I’m not speaking German,” Kollei admitted. When Amber looked baffled, she hastily explained, “M-my Mother’s power. Um, one of the gifts…it lets me speak to the heart. I-It’s like the Gift of Tongues.”

“Oh, like in Acts Chapter 2,” Amber said with a thoughtful nod. 

Kollei blushed. “Um, y-yes. Are you…a Christian, then?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Amber declared defiantly. There was a great deal of theological complexity to her answer, of course. She’d grown up Lutheran, though largely only nominally so. She’d been baptised and taken communion of course, but hadn’t really thought much of it beyond going to church occasionally with her mother. 

Now, of course, she was a part of the Church of Barbatos, which acknowledged Lord Barbados, in his human incarnation of Venti Luft, as an Angel sent by the Lord Jesus Christ as an emissary to Earth to guide Mankind to Freedom. There were rumblings in the Church that argued that Nahida Saeed was the Angel of Wisdom to Venti’s Angel of Freedom, and others took it so far as to argue that there were Seven Angels, or Archons, sent by God, including the Raiden Shogun and most heretically, the Tsaritsa herself. 

Amber didn’t really think too hard about any of that. Venti was an Angel who was God’s chosen messenger to Earth, which meant praying to him was a totally normal thing to do. Even if he did tend to get drunk on the communion wine. 

Whether or not she was in communion with traditional Christian orthodoxy wasn’t something Amber was concerned about. The Pope, which she didn’t really think much of since she was a good Lutheran at heart still, had said Venti was an Angel, and if that wasn’t good enough for you, what would be? Her Polish comrades were mostly Catholic, however, and they didn’t have any problem offering prayers to Barbados, who was nearly as popular as the Virgin Mary these days.

“No, it’s just…Russia isn’t a kind place for Christians these days,” Kollei said, turning away. “You worship my Mother, or, well…things get unpleasant.”

“Death or exile is what you mean,” Amber muttered, and Kollei’s posture stiffened slightly. The girl was sensitive for being the scion of the most bloodthirsty tyrant since Stalin. 

“C-come on. I’ll lead you through the storm,” Kollei said, and started forward. As she moved, Amber now noticed that the bubble of calm moved with her, as did the animals. 

Bound by oath and not wanting to die just yet, Amber hastily followed after. At first, she just trailed after the girl, but her naturally gregarious nature didn’t keep her down for long, even as a prisoner of war. Besides, maybe she could talk her way out of this. 

“So, uh, why exactly did you take me prisoner, anyway?” Amber asked, looking around. “I mean, what do you want me for? Why aren’t you just handing me over to the Dancer?”

“I don’t…I don’t agree with everything Nastya does. I understand it’s for the war, but…we should be looking for a way towards peace,” Kollei said, her eyes forward. “When Poland rejoins the Empire…we will still have to rule, and have cordial relations with our neighbors. War can’t last forever.”

“I think you’ll find the Polish disagree about that,” Amber said dryly. The general attitude seemed to be that the war would end either when the Fatui were driven out, or the last Pole was dead. And quite a few Poles didn’t seem terribly particular about which one it was. 

“Their hearts can change. I would prefer…not to follow the Dancer’s path. That’s not really Love, no matter what she calls it,” Kollei said, looking down at her boots, which were fine lambskin with golden scrollwork. Her whole outfit looked like it cost a year of Amber’s salary as a knight, and she wasn’t exactly paid poorly. 

“Uh, yeah, mind control generally isn’t considered love. Just ask Dorothy about how she feels about that,” Amber said with a shudder. 

“Dorothy…Gale?” Kollei said with an air of innocence that was nearly enough for Amber to forget she was a horrific monster. 

“No! Though I’m surprised you read that one! I do love the Oz books! But, no, I mean Dorothy Schmidt. She was brainwashed by the Gesellschaft. You know, the Nazis? Anyway, Lord Barbados freed her, now she’s one of his clerics,” Amber explained. Kollei was frowning, so she added, “She's the moth lady.”

“My mother…is not fond of Barbados. For good reason,” Kollei said coldly, her eyes locking on the blizzard in front of them. 

“Why? He’s the Angel of Freedom! He saved Munich, and destroyed the Nazis!” Amber pointed out.

“Because he left my Grandmother, the previous Cryo Archon, to die, after he promised to save her. He left her to be killed by demons while he idled away the days,” Kollei snapped. “He hasn’t told you everything.”

Amber opened her mouth to protest but then closed it. They didn’t know a lot about Lord Barbados, it was true. Or Teyvat, where he claimed to have come from. He had mentioned something about the Tsaritsa’s grief, and that he felt guilty about…something. What that something was wasn’t clear. 

“Well, if she has a problem with Lord Barbados, the Tsaritsa should take it up with him, not all of Eastern Europe,” Amber harrumphed. 

“Don’t you understand?” Kollei pointed out to the storm. “She’s trying to protect us! From much worse than this! You know what Scion, what the Sustainer, really is, right?”

“He’s…” Amber searched for words, but couldn’t find them. She settled on, “Evil. He tried to…you know. In Baghdad.”

“He raped Nahida Saeed,” Kollei said bluntly, her hand going to her Dendro Vision. “Or tried to. And he’ll do worse to the whole world. He’s the King of Demons. That’s why my mother fought him. Why EVERYONE has to fight him. She’s preparing us for that. Barbados will refuse to fight, again, and leave you all to die. So you have to join my Mother. Join Russia. Together, we can be strong enough to resist the Sustainer and his demons. You had one in you, didn’t you? I can still sense it’s lingering presence…”

Amber flinched as Kollei reached out, putting a hand on her chest, over her heart. She felt that icy probe in her soul again, but it was laced with the warmth of Dendro. “Lord Barbados…when we swear as Knights, we seek him out. Usually, it’s pretty pointless, but eventually, he finds you. For parahumans like me…he heals us. Fixes us. For Vision Holders he just tells them a riddle and gets them drunk or something, Lauren wasn’t clear about it. But for me…he fixed me. I used to have this…compulsion. This need, to make things. To try them out. And…and to use them to fight. But I don’t any more! I have ideas, but more, and they don’t have to be for fighting. I’m free. Barbados set me free. Doesn’t the Tsaritsa do…something?”

“You’re given a choice. You can Love her, and give your heart to her,” Kollei said, her hand shifting slightly to trail up Amber’s sternum, then down her left arm. “If you embrace my mother, she kills your demon, and gives you its power. So long as you serve her, you will have access to more power than you can imagine. But, if you refuse…”

Kollei gripped Amber’s hand, squeezing it until Amber gasped at the icy pressure. “Then you are stripped of your demon. I still see Grigory, Vasili, and Agatha. They’re husks of what they once were, but they still work as servants in the Ice Palace. But they’re better of than they were as hosts to demons. Now they love my mother utterly. They have nothing else left but her.”

Those names…Amber recognized them. The leaders of the Red Gauntlet, which had been completely wiped out. She’d cheered when she heard it, had thought that the Tsaritsa would be like Lord Barbados. How wrong she had been. 

“People should be free to make their own choices,” Amber said through gritted teeth as icy veins spread up her arm. “Not made into slaves. That’s not love. That’s tyranny!”

“Sometimes, a Mother must be a tyrant to her children for their own good,” Kollei said, releasing Amber’s hand. She gasped in relief, and tried to rub feeling back into her numb fingers. 

“We’re here.”

Amber looked around, spying a cozy looking cottage at the outskirts of a village. She recognized this place, though in the real world, it was nothing but burned-out rubble: Gródek. There had been a fierce battle here some days ago. The village itself seemed free of of the storm, another bubble of calm surrounding it. Within it, people scurried about, and Amber blinked, rubbing at her eyes.

“This…is a dream, right? Those aren’t real people…” she said, feeling sick to her stomach as the people sent nervous glances at her and Kollei. It was mostly children, women, and the elderly, but there were a few younger people of fighting age…some Amber recognized. All of them had been thought lost, dead or worse.

“They are the ones I’ve rescued. They stay here, in the Dream. I keep them safe,” Kollei said firmly. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

Dazed, Amber followed after Kollei as they entered the village. Most of the inhabitants shrank back from them, but one little girl ran up.

“Princess Kollei! Did you bring us another friend?” the girl asked. She was young, no more than six, with her brown hair in pigtails, wearing a dress that didn’t look warm enough for the season. Though now that Amber thought about it, it was fairly warm in the Dream compared to the waking world. 

“I did. This is Amber. She won’t be staying here, but I thought you’d like to meet her, Tara,” Kollei said with a smile. She reached into the satchel she had at her side, and pulled out some ration bars. “Here. For you and your grand mother.” 

“Thanks! Hi, Amber!” the little girl said.

“Um, hello. Er, how did you get here, Tara?” Amber asked, crouching down. 

“We got trapped in the big storm. Grandma couldn’t get out of the house. It got real cold,” Tara said, clutching the food tightly to her chest. “But then Princess Kollei came and rescued us! Now we get to live here. It’s not so bad. But there’s no TV, so it’s kinda boring sometimes.”

“But there’s books, and that’s better,” Kollei said with a smile.

“I guess,” Tara said with a shrug. “Bye!” Then she hurried off, to where an old woman hastily ushered her into a building and shut the door behind them. 

Turning, Amber faced one of the young men, who was still wearing the uniform of polish infantrymen. “Hey, Kewin. Guess you didn’t die after all, huh?”

“Maybe it would have been better if I had. If we both had, Amber,” Kewin said, glowering at Kollei. 

“That’s no way to talk. You didn’t seem to want to die when I healed you,” Kollei said with a sigh.

“I was delusional. I never should have agreed to this,” Kewin growled. He glared at Amber. “I’d have thought a knight would be braver.”

“Yeah, well…sometimes bravery is walking the harder path. Even when dying would be easier. Living…it’s always hard. But it can be worth it. Fight on. We’re not out of this yet,” Amber said, and saluted Kewin.

He stiffened, then slowly nodded, returning the salute. “Poland is not yet lost.”

“Not while we live,” Amber agreed. “Keep these people safe, OK? I’ll do what I can on my end. I’m just a Tinker, but…maybe I can fix this, somehow. For all of you.”

“Thanks. I’d help, but…” Kewin grimaced. “I promised I wouldn’t fight her. And, well, turns out that’s not a promise I can break.”

“Yeah. My mom always told me not to make a promise you didn’t mean. Guess she was right!” Amber laughed nervously. She glanced towards Kollei, who was setting food into a table, pulling out a lot more from that satchel that it should have been able to hold. “So, uh, things are OK here then?”

“I don’t know about OK, but we’re surviving. Kollei shows up every day or two with food and supplies. No one’s starving, and she cured the diabetes Tara had. Type One, you know. Just held her for a few minutes and wrapped her in that weird green glow. She’d been going into ketoacidosis, no insulin here,” Kewin said, his voice low. “Her grandmother was so desperate she carried the girl to her and begged for her help. Hurt her pride, but…Tara’s only five. Hard to see her suffer and die like that…”

“Seriously? Just cured Type One, like that?” Amber asked, shocked. 

Kewin grimaced. “Yeah. I’ve heard Barbados can do the same thing…when he’s not drunk.”

“He’s not drunk very often anymore,” Amber said faintly. “And yeah. He visited a children’s hospital in Frankfurt once. All the kids just got out of bed and danced while he played music. Never had to get back into bed either. But she’s…she’s not an angel. Just…”

“You can feel it, right? The frost in her? She’s not listed as a Harbinger, but…” Kewin swallowed. “I think she’s just as powerful as one. The write-ups on her were all dead wrong. She’s at least as dangerous as the Sleeper.”

“The Sleeper?” Amber felt faint, but she couldn’t argue. This was going to be harder than she’d thought…and she’d already figured it was impossible.

Kewin chuckled nervously, and clapped her on the back. “Good luck, Sir Amber. Lucky we have a knight here…you’re the only cape I’ve seen, you know.”

“Yeah. Lucky,” Amber agreed with a nervous giggle.

“Amber, we’re leaving. Come on,” Kollei called. She waved to the villagers, who all shied back, save Kewin, who just folded his arms over his chest and glared. “I’ll be back later with more food! No one’s sick, right?”

“Not enough to come crawling to you, Ruskie,” Kewin said, spitting on the ground in disgust.

Kollei sighed. “Someday…you’ll realize we’re all the same, Kewin. We don’t have to be enemies.”

“Sure. Just get the hell out of Poland,” he snarled.

Kollei glared at him, her fists tightening, and he flinched, but didn’t back down. Sighing, Kollei turned away. “Let’s go.”

Amber fell into step with Amber, looking around at the village. There had to be nearly a thousand people here, most of them civilians. Just how long had Kollei been at this? Probably since the first day of the invasion…

“Does the Tsaritsa know about this?” she asked quietly. “That you’re…you know…keeping them here?”

Kollei stiffened, which told Amber everything she needed to know. “She’d understand. She told me to prepare the way for her.”

“So you hid everyone from her in a dream. I guess that works,” Amber sighed. “Kollei…you have to know…your mother started this war. That’s…that’s not good.”

“Everything she does, my mother does for Love. She is the God of Love. How can Love be evil?” Kollei demanded, fixing Amber with a glare. 

Amber hesitated, then said in a very soft voice, “My father…he said he loved me. My mom too. Didn’t stop him from beating us. Or me from…” She swallowed. “Well. I didn’t kill him. When I triggered.”

The memories that were brought up were horrific. So many years of fear, of hiding her pain with a smile. She was glad that Lauren had received her Vision AFTER Amber hospitalized her father, and then got her mom out of there. Because Lauren would have just killed him and damn the consequences. She was a good friend. The best. 

Kollei looked horrified, jerking away. Her mouth worked for a moment, then she shook her head. “My Mother…she isn’t like that. She’d never beat me.”

“Well, she called Poland her children. Looks like she’s beating them pretty badly,” Amber said bluntly. 

They walked in silence for several minutes, Kolle’s jaw muscles working, but no sound coming out. Eventually, she stopped, near the edge of the village. “Here. We’re going back to the waking world. I…I think I need to bind you now. At least for show.”

“Huh? But I promised. Gave you my parole. And I can’t exactly break it,” Amber said, blinking.

“It’s that, or you get bound by Nastya. The Dancer. Choose. Her bonds, or mine,” Kollei said, the same ice her mother possessed entering her voice.

With a shudder, Amber held out her wrists to be manacled. “Alright. Just…I trust you. You seem like a good person, Kollei. I think you’re right. We don’t have to be enemies. But the Dancer…she is my enemy.”

“I know,” Kollei said sadly, reaching out to touch Amber’s hands. Icy thorns wrapped about them, biting into her flesh and making her wince in pain. “I have to find a way so that this story has a happy ending. But as I’m sure you know…those aren’t common on Earth Bet.”

“They weren’t,” Amber agreed, meeting Kollei’s eyes. “Then Lord Barbados came. His way, there are happy endings. I think it’s just your mother’s that makes things awful.”

“Keep that to yourself. Or Nastya will make you,” Kollei snapped, and then she dragged Amber back to the waking world, and the nightmare began. 

PRT Threat Assessment: Mavuika

Mavuika patrolling for abyssal incursions in the Mexican state of Sonora, June 6, 2008

Name: Mavuika Huitztla

Aliases: Kiongozi (Swahili for “leader”), Unconquered Sun, Pyro Archon, God of War

Archon Name: Haborym

Disposition: International Cape Team Leader

Location: Varies. Primary residence is The Speaker’s Stadium, Mexico City, Mexico

Origins: Disputed. Suspected Alien Origins

General Information: During the 2007 Abyssal Incursion, Apep itself had appeared to attack and likely destroy Mexico City. Protectorate forces were already occupied elsewhere, and Mexico City was written off as a lost cause after the Final Endbringer and Abyssal Monsters appeared, having already slaughtered or mutated thousands. 

Then, to the shock of all, when Apep attacked the final stand of Mexico’s defenders at the Estadio Azteca (now renamed to Estadio de la Sol Invicta) where a large number of refugees had congregated, it was stymied when a burning woman with power on the level of previously witness Archons appeared. Several of the defenders were also immediately granted Pyro Visions, as were many of the defenders in Brazilia, Johannesburg, Lahaina, and Apia, the primary locations of the continuing Abyssal Incursion in what is recognized as the largest single Vision Event to date. 

The newcomer was Mavuika, who then immediately rallied the surviving Mexican capes, along with the new Pyro Vision Holders, and severely wounded Apep, driving the Abyssal Endbringer off. Recognizing Mauvika as the Pyro Archon, as all the new Vision Holders had heard her voice when granted their Visions, many present were ready to immediately bow to Mauvika as the new ruler of Mexico, especially with the former president dead in the incursion. 

To the shock of many, Mavuika refused, and then drove off into the countryside, leading a number of capes on motorcycles to battle the remaining Abyssal Monsters and cleanse the corruption present. This war lasted for several days, and upon defeating the Abyssal monsters present, Mavuika departed Mexico entirely, heading for Africa, where she continued her campaign against the Abyss. Many heroes from across the world rallied to Mavuika’s banner, as she called for heroes to combat the threat of the Abyss. 

In Kenya, in the ruins of Nairobi, Mavuika founded the Triple Alliance, a large-scale hero team for the global south, including heroes from Oceania, South America, and Africa. To this day, the Triple Alliance continues to battle against the Abyss in all its forms. 

After nine months of fighting, Apep returned for a third time, attacking León, Mexico directly, while similar attacks by smaller Abyssal forces hit Papeete, Kampala, and Buenos Aires. Mavuika responded, and the titanic days-long battle ended with Apep slain, and Abyssal forces routed on all fronts. 

After her victory, Mavuika continued her endless fight against the Abyss, which despite the loss of the Endbringer, continues to plague the global south with continuing incursions and attacks, though on a much smaller scale.

Though many view them as benevolent, the Triple Alliance and Mavuika in particular are continual opponents of the Protectorate and the United States, viewing them as rivals for global favor and funding. This has led to direct clashes between Protectorate forces, cumulating in a battle between President Alexandria and Mavuika that left dozens dead or wounded on both sides. 

As such, Mavuika is to be considered an Archon Class threat, and hostile to Protectorate and PRT forces. Troopers are NOT to engage with Mavuika, who is on par with our strongest cape teams by herself. 

Personality: Mavuika is described as cheerful, playful, and extremely passionate in everything she does, traits reflected in many of those who have received Pyro Visions. She is also an implacable and tireless foe, working continually against the PRT and our global political goals. Do not be fooled by her cheery demeanor: she will cut you down and laugh while she does it. 

Unlike the Tsaritsa, Mavuika can be reasoned with and has on occasion cooperated with the Protectorate, including during the final battle with Apep. However, her mercurial nature makes it difficult to know ahead of time if the next meeting will be a friendly one or a battle. 

Classification: Mover 7,  Brute 8, Shaker 8, Master 4*, Tinker 5, Thinker 5,  Striker 12, Trump 7

Mover 7: Mavuika is capable of independent flight at supersonic velocities, propelled by her flames. This is also her combat speed, rivaled only by the Raiden Shogun in her ability to move across the battlefield at nearly unthinkable speeds and exchange blows so fast that only the most durable and quick capes can hope to keep up with her. 

Mavuika also possesses the Flamestrider, an elemental construct in the shape of a motorcycle she can summon at will. With the Flamestrider, Mavuika can cross oceans and continents in minutes, which means she can be at nearly any location globally in less than half an hour, no matter where she currently is. She is also known to ride the bike into battle, though she slows down to her usual supersonic speeds instead of the hypersonic speed she displays during travel. 

Notably, she also rides the Flamestrider to the moon and back for sparing sessions with the Raiden Shogun and Dalnim on the lunar surface. She is such a frequent visitor that astronomers have detected a dedicated palace that has been built by the leporidians for her. It is quite easy to tell when Mavuika is sparing with one of the Raiden family, as the explosions are visible from the Earth’s surface when they battle on the near side of the Moon, even in the daytime.

 Brute 8: Mavuika has demonstrated extreme resistance to Abyssal corruption, and has repeatedly exchanged blows with Endbringers and President Alexandria that would level mountains and survived. She can be put down, and has sustained serious injuries from those battles that put her out of commission for several days, but the level of destructive force needed to stop Mavuika is on a level that most capes are simply not capable of producing. Even with Tinker tech, no PRT squad is going to be capable of denting Mavuika or even slowing her down in any noticeable fashion.

Shaker 8: While Mavuika is capable of creating large-scale firestorms that are more destructive than any natural fire, this is not her primary ability, nor one she focuses on. Indeed, during their inevitable confrontation, it was noted that Ashbeast had larger-scale flame abilities than the Pyro Archon, much good it did him. Still, this ability is enough to swallow up cities if Mavuika wishes it, though most of the time these purifying flames do not consume humans, only monsters and Abyssal corruption. Still, the large-scale nature of this power is extremely dangerous, especially at the speeds Mavuika can move at. 

Master 4* (Disputed): Generally, Archons are given a Master rating for displaying what some call “divine aura.” However, whether or not Mavuika has demonstrated this ability is contentious. Some have claimed she is not even truly an Archon at all, and statements by her at various points make this somewhat contentious. Still, she is indisputably the one who grants Pyro Visions, and some have reported feelings similar to this Archon Aura in her presence, so this rating is left as a warning to troopers should they ever find themselves in her presence. 

Tinker 5: Mavuika has created several weapons and devices used by the Triple Alliance in their battles against the Abyss, as well as modified other weapons to be infused with Elemental Energy. She doesn’t seem to be overly concerned with using this power frequently, and doesn’t have the skills that Archons like Kusinali or even Barbados have demonstrated in the mass manufacture of Archon tinkertech. 

If you do get your hands on something created by Mavuika, turn it into the Protectorate immediately for analysis, as we would dearly love to gain further insight as to how the Archons create their technology. 

Thinker 5: This rating primarily reflects the inhuman processing speeds and reaction times that Mavuika has repeatedly demonstrated on the battlefield. She seems to be an entirely combat-oriented Thinker, with few if any feats in other areas, aside from sports. She is said to have instantly fallen in love with soccer (which she calls ‘fútbol’ like most Spanish speakers) and competes in the Cape League, which she founded, as captain of the Águilas. 

This has also resulted in Mavuika being the single most popular figure in Latin America, as she has been repeatedly described as “The SSJ Footballer,” a reference to Goku from Dragonball, who popular graffiti repeatedly depicts as her close companion and/or lover.

Striker 12: Astute troopers will note that Mavuika lacks a blaster rating. This is because nearly all of her attacks are close range, though the size of them could conceivably earn a blaster rating. Still, Mavuika’s blows are utterly devesting, to the point that she is responsible for our president's most notable scar despite her invulnerability to nearly all other attacks. The flames Mavuika creates burn so hot that there is no known material that will not melt or burn, and they have so far proven capable of ignoring every single All or Nothing defense they have gone up against, as well as slaying an Endbringer. All these attacks occur at distances close enough to remain as Striker abilities, but do not be fooled: A Striker 12 with a Mover 7 rating in the same individual means that no amount of distance can possibly protect you from Mavuika. If she wants to reach out and touch you, she will, and nothing but ash will remain. 

Trump 7:  Pyro is not simply the element of fire, but of energy itself. As Mavuika is the Pyro Archon and thus the undisputed master of Pyro, her ability to manipulate energy is completely unparalleled. This primarily takes the form of fire, but Mavuika can both shut off and turn on large-scale energy sources with ease. This has taken the form of her quieting volcanic eruptions or causing them at will, as well as shutting off parahuman powers that revolve around some sort of energy manipulation or generation. 

And of course, as Mavuika does not need to have either fuel, oxygen, or a heat source to generate her flames, as she herself is a nearly endless fount of Pyro energy. 

Recommended Strategies: PRT forces are not to engage or initiate hostilities with Mavuika. Should she appear in the United States or allied territories with hostile intent, the correct procedure is to immediately identify evacuation zones for civilians and notify Mavuika of those locations. She has thus far demonstrated a complete unwillingness to engage in hostilities in areas where civilians could be harmed. 

If there is an ongoing Abyssal Incursion in the location Mavuika appears, even on US soil, PRT troopers are to cooperate with Mavuika and Triple Alliance forces until the incursion is cleansed. So far, Mavuika has shown a willingness to cooperate with our troopers so long as the Abyss is present. Once the Abyss is cleansed, however, Mavuika is likely to become hostile, and troopers should withdraw until the Protectorate can arrive and deal with her. 

DELTA BLACK CLEARANCE REQUIRED TO VIEW

Mavuika is aware that our latest technology and cape production techniques involve the Abyss. She is also aware of who Nayenezgani truly is, labeling them “the Second Sinner.” This is the primary reason she turned hostile on us, along with the fact that she is aware that the Rat King was the source of Endbringers, and seems to think we actively encouraged the creation of Apep and its rampage before we subdued it. She has destroyed multiple Cauldron facilities in member countries of the Triple Alliance and has raided others that are near their borders, including the Tuscon facility. 

As such, Mavuika is to be considered a top priority for dealing with. If we have the opportunity to kill her, we will take it. We don’t know what the consequences of killing an Archon are, but her repeated interference in our harvesting of Abyssal Energy means that she needs to be dealt with, permanently. 

The Second Archon War: Carmen Dei 26

Carmen Dei 26: For Our Freedom and Yours

Just before dawn, on December 21st, 2004, what was soon to be called World War III began when Imperial Russian forces under the command of the Harbinger Prince invaded Poland amidst a howling blizzard. Polish forces, under the command of one Colonel Eryka Pawłowska, an Electro Vision Holder, attempted to resist the crossing despite the raging storm. Elements of the 34th Armored Cavalry Division and the 18th Mechanized Cavalry Division, along with several Polish capes clashed with the Fatui.

Colonel Pawłowska led her troops from the front, outnumbering the invaders by a narrow margin where she concentrated her troops. The moment the Fatui crossed the border, she ordered a full artillery bombardment despite the lack of visibility. She and her troops heard the guns fire behind them, a massive roar as over one hundred self propelled guns and rocket batteries unleashed hell.

They waited in tense silence for the shells to land and detonate only a few hundred meters in front of them. And waited. Even as the guns continued to fire behind them, there were no explosions in front of them. Then, a frantic call from the forward observer positions revealed why.

“It’s the Sleeper! His storm, it’s advancing all along the front! It’s getting closer, I-” 

The call cut off suddenly, and that was when the storm broke slightly. The Colonel’s blood ran cold as she beheld the advancing shimmering wall. It was a storm within a storm, and the Sleeper’s horrific power. 

“We can’t fight that! Fall back, fall back!” she ordered, snarling in frustration. 

Most of the Polish soldiers were able to withdraw, some firing fruitlessly at the swirling chaos before them. Their bullets had no effect, save for parts of the storm to ripple, revealing Fatui units. They returned fire with devastating effect, completely immune to the Sleeper’s powers. Any Polish units who were not quick enough to retreat were either cut down by the Fatui, or swallowed by the Sleeper’s storm. Those who vanished into that rainbow cacophony were never seen again by mortal eyes. 

For the next three hours, Polish forces could do nothing but retreat in the face of both an unnatural blizzard, and the Prince’s deadly power. They fell back first to Berdyszcze, then to Chełm. Nothing the Polish capes or military did had any effect on the storm. Ajax was barely restrained from throwing himself into it by cooler heads, pointing out that his powers gave him absolutely no resistance to the Sleeper’s ability. 

Then at noon, a wind from the West began to blow. It was a warm wind, unusually so for that time of year. Where the wind met the blizzard, the storm dissipated, though the Sleeper’s power was unaffected. But on the wind rode the Knights of Favonius. 

The German Bundestag had met through the night, and shortly after word had arrived that Imperial Russia had invaded Poland, the Bundestag had voted by a narrow majority to declare war on Russia in support of Poland. 

Grand Master Cookie and fifty Knights arrived in Chełm at 12:00 on the dot, riding on wings of magic and metal. They alighted not far from Colonel Pawłowska’s headquarters, with one knight in particular making an exceptionally undignified landing by way of landing on top of one of the latrines. 

“I’m OK!” Itul declared, kicking open the door of the toilet, having entered via the now collapsed roof. Thankfully, he hadn’t landed in anything too malodorous, stomping over to where Cookie was gritting her teeth and the rest of the Knights were landing. “Uh, sorry about your glider, Amber.”

“It’s alright, though I do have to wonder how the heck you managed to crash it,” Vorreiter said, lifting her goggles and peering at the crumpled glider that was stuck in the outhouse roof. 

“Uh, I think the steering mechanism was broken or something. Anyway, I’m fine! Now where are the Fatui?” Itul said, looking around. 

“Not here. Not yet, anyway,” Colonel Pawłowska said, striding forward. She was dressed in winter combat fatigues, with the only sign of her rank the insignia on her helmet. The most identifying mark was her lavender colored hair and purple Vision strapped to her utility belt. 

Cookie stepped forward and saluted, dressed in a white and grey bodysuit with a tabard with the Anemo symbol in green on it. “Grandmaster Cookie Schmidt. I’ve got fifty Knights with me, if you include this big moron.”

The colonel returned the salute, her expression grim. “Glad to have you with us. But I’d been hoping that Barbados himself would be present for this one.”

“He is,” Cookie said, gesturing to the clear skies above them. “He’s going to keep the Tsaritsa’s weather off our backs. Our job is to deal with her army.”

Pawłowska's expression tightened, and she shook her head. “Well, then frankly, I don’t know how much you can do. Unless you have several capes with powerful Brute invulnerability powers that would rank as a class 8 or higher. We’re up against the Sleeper, and he’s even worse now that he’s a Harbinger.”

“Hey, I’m a class 9 Brute, does that count?” Itul asked brightly. 

“Itul. The adults are talking. Go wait with the others,” Cookie growled, pointing a finger behind her. 

“Man…come all this way to fight communists and this is what happens…” Itul grumbled, kicking a rock so hard it sailed out of sight. 

“He’s actually even more powerful than he is stupid. He’s the one who arm wrestled Ajaks for charity last year,” Cookie said by way of apology. “And yeah, he’s part of my plan for dealing with the Prince. But not the whole thing. Come on, let’s go to your command bunker and hash this out. Hospitalar! Vornehm!  You’re with me!” 

It was a quick walk over to the command bunker, where the German knights received a warm if terse welcome. 

“Glad to see you,” Rozlyn said, shaking Cookie’s hand while Hospitliar received a bear hug from Ajaks. “But the situation is grim. We have nothing that can withstand the Storm from the Sleeper, or whatever he’s calling himself now. Worse, that storm is hiding what we estimate is an entire Division of Fatui, a significant number of which are armed with Delusions that make them a match for any mid level cape.”

“Or in other words, out of my league,” Vornehm grunted, sitting down on a stool offered to him and leaning forward on his cane. “Even with my blessing from Lord Barbados.” He gestured to the aquamarine gem on his jacket pocket.

“It’s not out of the reach of the Knights. We’ve been gaming this for a while, and we have a plan,” Cookie said, reaching into a pouch at her belt and pulling out several small figurines. “May I?”

The Colonel looked amused, taking one of the figurines, which were 25mm scale high quality gaming pieces, a far cry from the little plastic disks they were using for their war table. “I suppose you didn’t bring one for me?”

“You’ll have to be a generic Electro Vision Holder, though this one is close enough,” Cookie said, pulling out a figurine that did indeed look like a much younger (and scantily dressed) Colonel Pawłowska. Placing the figurines across from a model of the Prince and several Fatui, Cookie laid out her plan. 

“Normal parahuman powers can’t disrupt the Prince’s Storm, yes. However, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a way. We think that with a specific magical ritual of Cleansing, a Cleric of the Church of Anemo should be able to burn a hole in it for a small radius around themselves.”

A moth-like figure was pushed forward, along with several squads of knights and Ajaks. “That done, a strike team led by Ajaks will move in and take out the Prince. With him gone, we have a fighting chance of pushing back the Fatui advance.”

“I like this plan!” Ajaks declared immediately. “Send the Red Oni with me! He is a proper warrior as well, and I know he was blooded in the Third Sino-Japanese war!”

“I was planning on it,” Cookie agreed. “The big lug can probably actually survive the Sleeper’s storm, at least for a while. He’s been blessed by Barbados, though not with a Vision. I don’t understand it all, but he’s been declared a Champion of Freedom and been given a sword called the Song of Broken Pines that will help protect him somehow.”

“Magic. We are relying on magic swords and spells, something we cannot quantify or measure,” the Colonel said flatly. 

Cookie shrugged. “You’re the one with a magic rock connected to the God of Eternity on your belt. You know that works. Have a little faith.”

Fingering a small golden crucifix on her neck, Pawłowska frowned. “There is only one God. But I can accept that Barbados is one of His angels. Perhaps the Raiden Shogun too. I don’t suppose you bring word from Japan?”

“Barbados says that the Electro Archon is going to sit this one out unless she’s forced to directly involve herself. She sees this as a grudge match between Barbados and Dantalion, much sense as that makes,” Cookie said with a disgusted snort. 

“A war between angels and demons, with us mortals caught in the middle,” Rozlyn murmured, looking disturbed. “Does anything we do here really matter? If the Cryo Archon involves herself directly…what can we even do?”

“Pray, and keep our weapons at the ready,” Pawłowska declared. She nodded. “Fine. You risk much with this plan of yours, and Ajax is willing. Try it. I have no better alternative.”

“Vornehm, you stay back and coordinate with the Colonel and her capes,” Cookie ordered. “I’m going to get Dorothy and the strike team ready. Ajaks, you’re in command, you know this terrain and this foe better than we do.”

“Of course! Come, let us ride to glorious battle!” Ajaks declared, sounding delighted to charge to near certain death again. 

It didn’t take long to get the Knights prepped, which was fortunate as the wall of shimmering death was drawing ever nearer to their position. Artillery continued a desultory bombardment, but it was having about as much effect as blowing bubbles would have.

“So, you are the cleric?” Ajaks asked, looking Dorothy up and down.

“Ah, yes,” Dorothy agreed, clutching her staff, which had an image of Barbados some would have recognized as the top of a Statue of the Seven; the Anemo Archon garbed in a robe with two wings spread behind his back, arms extended forward, holding a sphere. Dorothy herself was dressed in a black habit and wimple, with the Anemo sigil on the brow of her hat. “I have that honor, Mr. Ajaks.”

“Good! I am counting on your prayers to let me punch that smug bastard right in his handsome chin,” Ajaks growled, banging his fist into his open palm as if to demonstrate. 

“I will call upon the blessings of Lord Barbados,” Dorothy assured him. “He will set us free.”

“AJAKS!” Itul cried, striding over, his arms spread wide. 

“ITUL!” Ajaks bellowed. The two giants wrapped one another in a bear hug that could have pulverized concrete, slapping each other on the back heartily. 

“Good to see you again, pal! How’s the family?” Itul asked brightly. 

“Good! Teucer demands a rematch between us, you know. He cannot believe I did not take a dive in our arm wrestling contest!” Ajaks laughed. 

“Ah, the little guy just can’t handle that his big bro ain’t the strongest around!” Itul laughed. Then he turned more serious. “So. This Prince guy. Strong?”

“Can’t say for certain,” Ajaks said, his gaze turning back towards the slowly advancing wall of death on the horizon. “Annoying, so far. Doesn’t have the decency to fight. But we will find out soon.”

“Ain’t nobody that can stand up to the Red Oni and Szlachta!” Itul said, rubbing his biceps. “You ready, Dorothy?”

“First, we must say a prayer to Lord Barbados to guide us on our quest,” Dorothy said firmly. She gestured to the rest of the team. “Please, everyone, assume an attitude of prayer.”

Dutifully, the Polish and German capes assembled knelt in the snow, with Ajaks and Itul at the front, Itul with his great sword held before, Ajaks with his hands folded together in prayer. 

Taking out a silver bell, Dorothy hung it on her staff, then gave it a good ring, letting a sweet note hang in the air for a moment. 

“We beseech you in our hour of need, Lord Barbados, Angel of Freedom and Winds. The enemy is at our doorstep, and the storms of our foes rage around us. But though we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we will not fear, for you are with us.” 

As she prayed, Dorothy began to walk between the rows of capes, ringing the bell repeatedly. As she passed amongst them, the wind from the West intensified, wrapping itself about each of the assembled capes, its warm caress buoying their spirits. Strength and vitality filled their limbs, and courage their hearts. 

“-thanks be to God, and to Lord Barbados, our Angel of Freedom,” Dorothy said at last, ringing the bell three more times. “Amen.”

“Amen,” the assembled capes said, standing. The Poles finished by crossing themselves, Ajaks taking out a silver cross to kiss before tucking it back under his shirt. 

“One last thing,” Dorothy said. “Geoff?” 

Dressed in healer's robes, Geoff stepped forward, bearing a wrapped package that was taller than he was. He presented it to Ajaks, to took it curiously. 

“A gift, from Lord Barbados. He said this time, since you did not favor a bow, he reforged this one for you,” Geoff said. 

Tearing away the canvas wrapping, Ajaks revealed a great blue and silver spear that glowed faintly in the afternoon light. “What is this? I have never used a spear before…”

“As you are a Hussar of Poland, Lord Barbados thought it would be fit for you to bear a lance. This is the Polar Star. May it guide you on the path of Freedom and Truth,” Geoff said, bowing slightly. 

Grinning, Ajaks hoisted the spear over head. “EXCELLENT! LET US RIDE TO WAR!” 

The plan called for a major counter offensive, and soon tanks, capes, and squads of infantry began to charge towards the pearlescent barrier that continued its inevitable march towards them. The artillery intensified their bombardment to cacophonous levels, the sound of the big guns continuous as the shells vanished into the storm. Overhead, the blizzard whipped up again, but the wind from the West blew at the backs of the attackers, resulting in a swirl of snow and ice that battered against the windy barrier. 

“Let’s hope this works,” Ajaks said through gritted teeth, as he and the strike team charged forward. Dorothy had taken on the form of a moth, fluttering above them with her staff gripped in insectile limbs. There were other Clerics of Barbados scattered throughout the line, and they all began their prayers together, singing a hymn to the Anemo Archon. 

To Ajaks’ shock and delight, holes opened up within the Prince’s storm. This time, it didn’t seem planned, as the Fatui within were taken utterly by surprise when shells and bullets were no longer absorbed, but scythed down dozens of them in an eyeblink. Men and women were blown to bloody bits or fell in sprays of blood, and the screams of the dead and dying nearly drowned out the prayers. 

“FORWARD!” Ajaks bellowed, leaping forward with his spear gripped tight in one giant paw. He used his power to direct his personal gravity forward, appearing to fly across the sky and right into the center of a Fatui position. His spear took an Anemo Delusion bearer right in the chest, the Fatui soldier gaping in shock, blood spurting from between his lips. 

Ripping the spear free, Ajaks spun it about him, striking down half a dozen Fatui before they could react. 

“ONI, COMIN' THROUGH!” Ittul roared, slamming his sword into an Electro Delusion bearer and slicing his foe in half, before going through the rest of the Fatui squad like stalks of grain as blood and guts sprayed everywhere. 

After the initial shock of the assault however, the Fatui regrouped, and the Knights found themselves pressed hard. Some of the Clerics were struck down by elemental bullets or Delusion holders, and the squads they’d been protecting were swallowed up and devoured by the Prince’s storm. It was chaos and madness, with hundreds dying in mere moments. 

“We have to find the Prince and end this storm! Otherwise, we’re doomed!” Ajaks called to Itul. “Roz! Do you have eyes on him?”

A blue specter popped up beside Ajaks and Itul. I cannot directly locate the Sleeper, my constructs can’t penetrate the Storm. But it’s most concentrated directly at the center. Forward, and to your right slightly. 

With a shout, the group charged forward, clashing with several more squads of Fatui. Ajaks and Itul accounted for most of them, but as good as they were, several other members of the strike team went down, either dead or wounded in the fierce battle. Bullets and blasts of elemental energy were flying everywhere, and all around them, the storm continued to rage. As they pressed further, it even enveloped the area behind them, cutting off their retreat. 

Still, Dorothy’s prayer continued, and for now the group was safe. They pressed towards the strongest part of the storm, until the reached a section that bowed, but did not break, before Dorothy’s prayer.

“He’s in there! Shit, we have to get through!” Ajaks snarled, cutting down a Geo Delusion holder before the man could summon a barrier to protect himself. 

Itul dispatched an Electro Mage, her body crumpling to the ground and her spell dissipating to nothing. “Don’t worry, I got this one! It’s showtime!” 

With a roar, Itul charged directly into the thickest part of the storm, his blade raised on high. For a moment, Ajaks could only hold his breath, as his comrade was swallowed up by rainbow death.

Then, all at once, the storm broke completely, vanishing from all around them and revealing Itul clashing with the Prince himself, the two men’s blades meeting in a blinding series of blows. 

“Cur! You dare to besmirch the Tsarina's glorious name?” the Prince demanded, a sneer on his perfect lips as he fought against Itul. 

“You tell that cold bitch to get the fuck out of Poland and then we’ll talk!” Itul growled, his blade moving so fast it could barely be seen. 

“Then SLEEP ETERNAL!” the Prince declared, and a blast of shimmering light struck Itul, driving him to his knees, his sword falling from his grasp as his skin burned and he howled in pain. 

Before the Prince could deliver the Coup de Grace, Ajaks was there, his spear blocking the Prince’s blow. “HELLO! I AM AJAKS! AND I AM YOUR DEATH!” 

“Death cannot claim me before the final curtain! The Tsaritsa has declared it so!” the Prince snarled, and struck again at Ajaks, who pulled himself to the side, the thrust back the Harbinger, taking him in the shoulder. 

“Argh! Your darts and arrows are NOTHING to me!” the Prince hissed, hurling more orbs of shimming death at Ajaks. 

Ajaks managed to dodge, but others of the strike team were not so lucky, several devoured whole or others losing entire limbs or most gruesomely, a head to the attack. The Prince took blows from several others, as all of them piled on the Harbinger, but he managed to shrug off most of the hits as though they were nothing, focusing his efforts on killing Ajaks. 

“You should have been one of us! The Tsaritsa knows you! Why do you abandon her for Barbados? You should have been a loyal son of Syneznya, Tartaglia!” the Prince ranted. 

That made no sense to Ajax, who was doing everything in his power to kill the Harbinger. He parried and dodged, taking to the air to rain more blows down upon the Prince. 

“NO ONE STOPS THE ONI!” Itul suddenly roared, springing up behind the Prince and slashing down with all his might at the Harbinger’s turned back. A rainbow sphere took Itul square in the chest and he cried out in pain, but it did not stop the blow. He took the Prince directly in the head, dealing a grievous blow that cut away half the man’s face. 

FOOLS! I…CANNOT STOP! I MUST DO AS MY LADY COMMANDS! The now headless Prince raved.

“Oh…shit. RUN!” Ajaks roared, turning and grabbing two of his wounded teammates as shimmering blood poured out of the mangled body of the Prince, turning to vapor and smoke that scoured the earth around him. Itul booked it as well, with Dorothy beating her wings madly behind them. Most of the strike team managed to escape, but the slower ones were devoured by shimmering light as a fog formed around the body of the Prince. 

Fortunately, after the initial burst, the deadly light slowed, as it encompassed an ever larger area. The Fatui retreated into it, apparently still unharmed by the Prince’s power. The battle ground to a halt, as the Knight and Polish forces were forced to pull back from Chelm all the way to the village of Lechówka 15 kilometers away. The Prince’s bubble was thankfully unmoving, having stopped expanding with a diameter of 10 kilometers, so that gave them some distance from the front lines. 

“Is he dead?” Colonel Pawłowska demanded of Ajaks as they retreated, riding in the back of a truck with several wounded. 

“No. I do not think so. He took what would have been a mortal blow for any other…but I do not think that thing can be killed so easily,” Ajaks said with a grim shake of his head. “We’ve bought time. Nothing else.”

The Colonel grimaced. “That’s not good. A second front has opened up. The Dancer and Servent have led an attack through Belarus, who have allied themselves with the Tsaritsa. The fools. They’re advancing on Białystok, and nothing we have in that area can possibly stop them.”

“Shit,” Ajaks groaned, lifting his spear. “Well, I suppose I did say I wanted to fight a Harbinger! Just not two in one day…”

“Colonel!” one of the officers in the truck said, lifting up his headset. “You need to hear this!” he adjusted the set, and a moment later, a tired voice speaking English could be heard. 

“-and with the consent of the United States congress, I, President William Bradely, am invoking NATO Article Five in light of the Declaration of War upon the Nation of Poland, which has recently joined the NATO alliance. As such, I am asking congress to Declare War upon Imperial Russia. The People of the United States will not allow the tyranny of false gods to oppress our brothers and sisters in the democratic nations of the world. Good night, and…well. I can’t say God Bless America. So, good luck.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the truck rattling along the road. The soldiers raised a cheer, one echoed around them in the retreat as news spread. 

“I never thought I’d see the day. Poland, in NATO. And the United States honoring its promise,” Pawłowska said in bemusement. 

“Good,” Ajax grunted, hopping out of the truck. “Poland is not yet lost. We fight on!” 

With that, he took off into the sky, heading for the next battlefield. 

Party Swapping With Rin, Chapter 8

For a war room, it was rather homey, with bright red and bronze decor and carved cherry wood furniture. The floors were polished marble, with strategically placed carpets over them. At the center was a large sand table, which several mages were operating to show the current state of the border with Elroad, along with the disposition of friendly forces. 

Crowded around the table were the Dragon Knights, all wearing ornate armor emblazoned with each warrior’s personal heraldry. Chanticlair’s was that of a red rooster, while Dust had traded in whatever his old personal heraldry had been for the winged shield of House Dustiness. Darkness wore her typical adventuring gear, which was hardly out of place with its feather mantle and bright yellow tabard. 

For his part, Kazuma was dressed in a green tunic with light leather armor, supplemented with a green headband and Chunchumaru at his hip. Rin wore a gold circlet with a red gem at the center, along with a white and gold tunic and green trousers. Her tail was on full display, and while several people had eyed it askance, she just glowered at them until they dropped their eyes. So far, no one had been daring enough to question her on it. 

“We’re not certain where they’re holding King Leo and the Princes Leopold and Leonard,” Chanticlair said, gesturing as the table shifted under the mage’s command. “But odds are good they’re in the Elroadian capital of Vivalas, in the palace dungeons.” 

“How well defended is the border?” Rin asked, gnawing at her lip as she studied the map. 

“Along the main roads, quite well. They have units of mages and archers stationed here, here, and here,” Chanticlare said, indicating the places where major highways linked the two nations. 

“But there’s big stinking gaps between them,” Kazuma said, shaking his head slowly. “Won’t they try to cover them?”

“They can try, but we have hundreds of miles of border with Elroad,” Chanticlair said with a grim smile. “And while they can guard the mountain passes, trying to guard their entire border is sheer folly.  The terrain itself is the main defense against an attack, on foot that is. But guarding the capital…that’s another matter.” 

“We’re not going on foot. We’re striking on dragonback. We get in, rescue my father and brothers, and get out,” Rin said, tracing a route with a simple spell that passed over a mountain range that was essentially impassible for the ground-bound Elroadians.

“Yes. I think we’re most likely to meet resistance when we reach the city itself by that route. ” Chanticlair said grimly. He gestured, and the map zoomed in on Vivalas, which was surrounded by high towers. 

“These fortifications each have powerful siegecraft atop them, along with at least one archmage. Our dragons are fast and powerful-”

“And terribly dashing,” Hoyin said, displaying her harpy feather fan. She was dressed in an enormous and very frilly pink hoop skirt, with her silver hair done up in an elaborate braid. She was probably the most ostentatiously dressed of the dragons, but not by a wide margin. 

“-and very fashionable,” Chanticlair agreed, flushing slightly. “But as beautiful as my Hoyin is, I’m afraid all the lace and silk in the world won’t protect against enchanted ballista bolts.” 

“Then we smash the towers and rescue the king! I can earn my keep after all,” Hoyin sniffed, and the other dragons made various growls of affirmation. 

“Nope,” Kazuma said, cracking his knuckles. “This calls for an infiltration mission. Myself and a couple of other sneaky types get in there and take out one of the towers. They have overlapping fields of fire, but if one tower is disabled, there will be a narrow corridor that will allow all the dragons to fly in and decimate the Elroadian forces before we rescue King Leo.”

“An intriguing plan,” Chanticlair mused, stroking his mustaches. He turned to Rin, raising an eyebrow. “I take it you will be leading this covert operation, Your Highness?”

She nodded in the affirmative. “I’m a mage myself, and Kazuma has contacted an infiltration expert who will be helping us take out these towers.”

“Oh?” Chanticlair looked about, frowning. “And where is this so-called expert of yours?”

“So called? My good sir, I take offense at that,” a silver haired youth said, adjusting her freshly stolen monocle.

Chanticlair slowly reached up to his eye, which was now bare of his ornamentation. A smile quirked at his lips. “Well, I must say, young m-”

Hoyin elbowed Chanticlair in the chest so hard his armor dented and he let out a pained gasp. “Lady,” she corrected with a sniff. “Your vision really is getting bad, Chanty. Maybe you should retire.”

“My vision is just fine when people don’t steal my glasses,” Chanticlair muttered, even as Darkness let out a delighted gasp.

“Chris! You came!” she cried, running over to wrap her friend in a warm embrace. 

Chris laughed, returning the hug, then grinning cheekily at Kazuma. “Well, Lowly Assistant, it looks like you’ve got yourself in a bind! Fortunately, your Boss is here to help!” 

Kazuma bowed low, returning the smile. “Thanks, Chief. I knew that we could rely on the Silver Masked Thief brigade!” 

“Silver Masked Thief?” Chanticlair’s eyes went wide. “Wasn’t that the famous thief who infiltrated the Belzergian Capital, and is wanted on crimes of high treason for stealing Divine Treasures from the castle?” 

“Alas, we don’t currently have an extradition treaty with Belzerg, nor they one with us. As such, the Crown is simply hiring a skilled infiltration expert and Thief to deal with the enemy fortifications,” Rin sniffed. 

Chanticlair grinned at that, stroking his mustache. “Ah, very well, your Highness. Indeed, if, ah, she is the Silver Masked Thief, then I have full confidence in her ability to execute this plan.” 

“Lady Dustiness will also be accompanying us into battle, along with Sir Chelka and Faitfore,” Rin said. “We’ll handle the infiltration mission. Once the tower is disabled, I’ll launch a green flare from the top. That will be the Dragon Knights’ signal to move in and rescue my father and brothers from the palace dungeons.” 

“A reasonable plan. We’ll adapt when something goes wrong,” Chanticlair said with a nod.

Kazuma winced. “So, uh, you know about our track record with plans, huh?”

“Young man, I am merely an experienced campaigner. Something always goes wrong. The one who wins is the one who adapts best to the vagaries of fortune, or just prays the loudest to Lady Eris,” Chanticlair said with an amused chuckle.

“Oh don’t sweat that one. I think the Big E is listening to us pretty well,” Chris said with a wink. “And Kazuma and I have always been lucky.”

After that, there was a brief flurry of activity, as the dragons strutted outside with their knights, transforming back into their draconic forms. The younger dragons, who hadn’t yet gained the ability to take on human shape, looked on jealously at their elders and their resplendent finery. It was a bit odd to realize that Faitifore was considered an “elder” dragon since she looked like a little girl, but Kazuma was plenty familiar with the 500 year old loli dragon trope.

“How old is Faitfore anyway?” Kazuma asked Dust as they prepared to mount up. 

Rin glared daggers at him for the remark. “Kazuma. You don’t ask a lady her age!” 

“I’m not really sure. I rescued her from some rich prick who was using her as a slave. Back then, she couldn’t take on human shape, as she was just a Greater Dragon. So, I think she’s probably at least 500? But she could be as young as four or as old as six hundred. Just depends on when she awakened,” Dust said with a shrug. When Darkness and Rin both glared at him, he grew defensive. 

“What?! She’s a young dragon! Little kids like to brag about their age! She’d tell you herself if she knew!” 

Faitfore turned her great head around, nodding soberly in agreement with her “papa.” She was alabaster in coloration, with a slightly duller underbelly, along with feathery scales all over her body. Most of them were in the range of silver, grey, or white, with a few pale blues as well. Some dragons had striations or other patterns on their hides, and all had differing numbers and shapes of horns. 

Hoyin was by far the largest of the dragons, with a silver colored coat and an off-white underbelly, along with giant head spikes and a spiked tail. The other dragons all looked to her, but she bowed to Faitfore, as she was bearing the Princess. Chanticlair urged her closer, and he smiled and waved to Rin. “Well, Princess. I trust that this particular flight with Sir Chelka will go better than your previous one.”

“Well, this time I have you as an escort, do I not? And besides, he’s not the man you should be worried about,” Rin said, sticking her nose in the air in a very Leonore expression.

Chanticlair guffawed and slapped his knee. “True! Lady Dustiness, I trust you will ensure Sir Sato keeps his hands where you can see them. Now, let us fly!” 

They lifted off into the skies, with Rin gasping in delight and snuggling up to Kazuma, gripping him tightly as they flew. From Kazuma’s perspective, they weren’t all that high up, no more than a couple of thousand feet, but it was still windy and cold. They were all wearing thick clothes and goggles for the flight, but to Rin and Darkness it was a rather novel experience. 

“Can you believe it?! We’re actually flying!” Rin shouted into Kazuma’s ear as they flew.

“Yeah, didn’t think I’d ever get to fly again,” he admitted. 

“You’ve flown before!?” Rin said, her expression disbelieving. 

“Yeah, my family flew to Hawaii for vacation when I was 10. It was kinda boring, honestly, especially when my Gameboy ran out of batteries,” Kazuma admitted. 

“How could you ever think flying was boring!? Chris, he’s lying, right?” Rin demanded, craning her neck around.

“Eh, not this time. They’ve got some pretty wild stuff in Japan, or so I’ve heard,” Chris said with a shrug. 

Kazuma blinked at that. “Boss, when did you learn about Japan?”

Chris flushed and glanced away. “Uh, you know about my mission from Lady Eris, right? Well, uh, I did some research into Japan. A lot of the summoned heroes left notes. So they talked about flying on these ‘airplanes’ and such.”

Rin looked disappointed, so Kazuma kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry. This is a lot more interesting, and it’s more fun to be flying with you. It’s my first dragonflight at any rate, so we can share that.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ll stoop to our level,” Rin laughed. She glanced back at Chris. “So, um, I noticed you haven’t asked about…”

“Eh, don’t worry. You’re doing a pretty good job impersonating Leonore. I’ve robbed Bryndle before, and she’s a right bitch. Plus, I owed you one for finally hooking my girl Darkness up with a proper man! Never thought I’d say that about Dust, but it’s good to see him turn his life back around.”

“C-Chris!” Darkness stammered. 

“What? You’ve needed a man and to get laid for a long time! Lady Eris understands if you don’t always wait for marriage, trust me. Just make sure you tie the knot before you pop out the first kid and you’re good,” Chris told her. 

“T-this is not the sort of discomfort I enjoy,” Darkness muttered, looking away. 

“Are you pregnant?” Kazuma asked her curiously. 

She turned and glared at him. “I don’t know, are YOU?” 

Kazuma opened his mouth, blinked, then turned to Rin. “Uh….”

She blinked at him herself, then reddened. “Well, um…we er…haven’t exactly been consistent with using the potion, and, well, no offense Kazuma but… you couldn’t pull out of a barn door.”

“What!? You mean you’re-” Kazuma felt like he was about to fall off the dragon, and Rin hastily reassured him. 

“I’m just a few days late! That’s sort of normal, I’m usually pretty irregular, what with the adventuring life and all. It’s no big deal. I’m sure Darkness knows what I’m talking about.”

“A-actually, ah, I am very regular…though, um, I-I was late for the first time this week…” Darkness admitted. 

Kazuma and Dust shared horrified looks as Chris giggled hysterically behind them. They didn’t say anything, but Kazuma knew they were both thinking the same thing. 

Oh shit. I am so not ready to be a dad…

Though to be fair, Dust was already a dad. Kazuma was somewhat jealous that he already had an adorable daughter. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a girl…

“Sorry, Kazuma. Don’t worry, you can still name your son Chris. Mine is short for Christian, his can be short for Christopher,” Chris laughed. 

“Why should we name our kid after you!? And how do you know it’s a boy, huh!?” Kazuma demanded. 

“Because you’ll need a boy to be the heir, right?” Chris asked innocently. 

“Forget that, we’re rescuing this stupid king and giving the crown back to Leonore the second she returns. Shit, shit, shit! I didn’t…I can’t actually be pregnant, right?!” Rin asked desperately. 

“You should see a healer, hun,” Chris told her gently. “You too, Darkness. Though with your constitution I’m not really worried about it. You’d enjoy it if you got morning sickness.”

“I definitely would not. That is not the sort of pain I enjoy,” Darkness muttered, but she was drooling slightly, so Kazuma didn’t believe a word of it.

“Uh, we’ll deal with that…later. We’re crossing the border into Elroad now, get ready! They might have an ambush waiting for us,” Dust warned. 

A river, flowing between sets of stoney hills, passed below them, and everyone tensed. However, nothing happened, and after another minute of flying, they breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks like we’re free and clear to Vivalas!” Dust said confidently. “And, uh, Tina, sweetie…if you are pregnant…I mean, I already promised to marry you, but er…your father…”

“Will be thrilled,” Darkness said with a heavy sigh. “But Dust…under no circumstances can we allow that man to have any say in what we name our future children. I will not inflict that man’s ‘creative’ names on anyone else.”

“Well, at least someone in your family has some sense, thank Eris for small mercies,” Chris muttered. 

“Definitely wouldn’t thank Aqua,” Kazuma muttered, which made Chris laugh hysterically to the point that she nearly fell off of Faitfore. 

“Heads up, we’re nearly at Vivalas!” Dust called. “We’ll be putting down far enough away that they shouldn’t see us.” 

They landed amidst hills, sparsely populated with scrub brush and a few small trees. The area they put down in was a dry riverbed amidst a small thicket of thorny plants. Faitfore transformed back into her child form, already in an adorable dress and wide sun hat. 

“Now remember, we’re just tourists here for the casinos,” Kazuma said, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and a cheap suit. Dust and Darkness had put away their armor, Darkness wearing a matching dress to Faitfore who was going as her and Dust’s daughter (which was true enough anyway) while Rin had on a cocktail dress.

“I am so not looking forward to walking to the city in heels,” Chris muttered, changing into a dress of her own behind a bush. “Infiltration should happen in something more practical.”

“Well, you’re the one with the bag of holding,” Kazuma pointed out, as they stuffed their armor into the Divine Treasure that Chris had “borrowed” from some noble after the hapless idiot Aqua had recruited had gotten themselves killed for a second time. 

“Meh. It still doesn’t feel right,” Chris said. “Come on, the gates are only a few miles away and it’ll be dawn soon.”

They marched out of their hiding place onto the road, which was smoothly paved with what looked like asphalt of all things. “Sheesh. Talk about a historic anachronism,” he muttered. “For a fantasy world, the tech is all over the place.”

“Huh? You mean the road? Kazuma, they mine this stuff off old lake beds. They’ve been using it to pave roads for forever,” Rin said, stomping her foot on the tarry black material.

“Yeah, Kazuma. The Greeks used asphalt as a paving material since the seventh century BC, or the Jimmu Era by your calendar,” Chris pointed out.

Kazuma paused. “How the hell do you know about all this stuff, Chris? I don’t even know what the hell Greeks used as a building material!” 

“I read a lot,” she said breezily, though she was blushing slightly, and Kazuma figured she was hiding something again. He didn’t have time to worry about that now. 

They hiked along the road, which had plenty of wagons and carts heading towards the city. However, as they approached the gates, they found a long line that wasn’t moving. 

“Let me check this out,” Chris said, kicking off her heels. “I have a sneaking suspicion they’re trying to keep us out.”

She vanished from sight, and not even Kazuma’s enhanced senses could locate her. They waited impatiently for about 20 minutes as the sun began to rise and the desert heat intensified, until Chris reappeared. 

“Yep. The city is buttoned up tight. Not even letting in produce wagons, which means they’re gonna starve in a few days if something doesn’t happen. People are getting angry. However, I know a gal, and no city is completely impenetrable. Come on, this way.” 

They headed off the road towards a stream bed that trickled into the city, until they came to a large boulder near a bend. Chris scraped away some dry brush, revealing a cunningly disguised trap door. “This is what smugglers use to get in and out of the city. I’ve used it a few times. Let’s just hope that Melissa isn’t entertaining a guest right at this moment.”

The tunnel was narrow and cramped, to the point that Darkness and Dust had to practically bend double, and even Kazuma and Rin had to duck their heads. It was dark enough that even Kazuma’s night vision wasn’t showing him much, but there was only one way to go, so they scrambled through until they made it to a rope ladder at the far end. Chris scrambled up it, then banged the hilt of her dagger on the wooden trap door above them in the old “shave and a haircut, two bits” pattern. 

They waited for a tense minute, until the trap door swung open, blinding them all with the smoky light that came through. 

“Chris? What are you doing here?” a deep woman’s voice asked. 

“Hey, Mel. Same as usual, here to pull a job! I’ll cut you in if you let us into the city,” Chris offered. 

“Hmm, tempting. Your jobs always cause quite a stir though. Wouldn’t have anything to do with the ruckus with those bores from Bryndle, would it?” Mel asked suspiciously. 

“If I say it doesn’t, will you let us in?” Chris offered. 

“I’d rather it did, actually. The city being locked up is bad for business. Well, fine. But I expect a good cut for you using my hidey hole.” Mel let them into the room, and turned out to be a dark haired woman with quite a few curves in thief’s garb. Kazuma had a feeling she was exactly the sort Chris would have known to help her pull a heist before, but this time Mel refused to join them.

“Using my secret passage is help enough. I’m not risking a confrontation with the Royal Guard, or getting involved in international politics,” Mel sniffed. “That’s too much heat. Good luck, though. I’ll be rooting for you from the sidelines.”

“Some help you are,” Kazuma muttered, but Mel just laughed at him. 

“Honey, you don’t stay in this game as long as I have without learning when to hold and when to fold. You’re crazy for going up against the Sultan and the Casinos both. Those Bryndle morons really put themselves in a lot of debt.”

“Of course they did, and they expect me to bail them out,” Rin grumbled.

“Men usually do, sweetie. Now, you won’t want to be going anywhere just now. There’s a citywide lockdown, and while there’s also a curfew, you’ll have better luck sneaking around to wherever you’re going after dusk. I suggest you all just relax. I’ve got a few spare rooms you can borrow, for a price, of course,” Mel said with a predatory grin. 

Kazuma ended up coughing up an absolutely exorbitant amount of Eris to Mel, who pocketed it happily before showing them to a rather smelly stable with nothing but moldy old straw for bedding.

“This is outrageous! I paid less than tenth of this for the stable Aqua and I shared!” Kazuma protested. 

“Yes, but you weren’t hiding from the law then,” Mel told him. “Unless you’d rather just risk the streets.”

Still fuming, Kazuma jerked a nod and picked the least disgusting of the stalls, which was at least free of manure. 

“I’m going to do a bit of scouting,” Chris said, having already changed into her normal clothes and wrapped a silver scarf around her neck. “You keep an eye on things here, Lowly Assistant. Make sure Darkness doesn’t try to do something noble and get us all killed.”

“Eh, she can play domestic bliss with Faitfore and Dust. We’ll just nap all day,” Kazuma told her. 

Rin looked around the stable, a small smile on her lips as Mel sashayed off and Chris scampered away. “The good old days with Aqua, huh? I really can’t believe you never slept with her.”

“I told you already, she’s too dumb to ever be even slightly attractive,” Kazuma said, pulling Rin close. “I prefer my women to at least have some brains.”

“She does seem like the type who could burn a salad,” Rin giggled, leaning in close to kiss Kazuma. They lingered on that, until Rin pulled back. “Say, did you ever think about what it would be like to do it in a stable?” 

“Uh….” Kazuma blushed, thinking about just that with Rin in his arms. “Isn’t that a little inappropriate for a Princess?”

“Please. You and I both know that’s probably exactly what the real Leonore is doing right now with Cecily and Keith both, gods help their souls,” Rin pointed out with a shudder, hugging Kazuma even more tightly. 

“Is it just me, or are your boobs bigger,” Kazuma said, giving them a hard squeeze.

Rin groaned softly and rubbed herself up against him, which only made Kazuma more excited. He pushed Rin back into the straw, where she fell with a squeal of delight. Kazuma got down in the straw with her, pawing at Rin’s cocktail dress. It was easy enough to get her out of it, as she tugged at his dress pants. 

Taking a deep breath, Kazuma inhaled the musty scent of the straw, mixed with Rin’s sweat and the light perfume she wore. It was an intoxicating mix, and Kazuma nibbled at Rin’s neck as she helped him out of his jacket and shirt as well. 

“Shhh, Faitfore’s right next door,” Rin groaned, even as she pulled Kazuma into her.

“You’re the one making all the noise,” Kazuma grunted, putting a hand over Rin’s mouth to stifle her moans. She nibbled at his fingers, but didn’t stop, reaching down to tease Kazuma’s balls that made him gasp from the pleasure. 

They locked lips to try to keep each other quiet, and were only mostly successful. After a few sweaty minutes, Kazuma tried to pull out, only for Rin to lock her legs around him.

“Don’t. I want all of it,” Rin told him. 

“I…I’m going to get you pregnant though,” he gasped.

“Is that so bad?” Rin asked, tousling Kazuma’s sweet slick hair before kissing him again.

Kazuma didn’t have a good answer for that, and besides, he did want to finish inside her. After a few more thrusts, he did, panting and staying inside as Rin bucked against him until she finished as well.

“I’m probably already pregnant, you know,” Rin told him, going over to an old water barrel and using her hands to scoop out some of the contents to wash herself off. 

“Uh, you sure?” Kazuma asked sheepishly, coming over to clean himself as well. Now that they were finished, he felt rather disgusted for having done it atop musty straw. 

Rin splashed him, which made him yelp as the water was quite cold in the warm air of the stable. “No, but we’ve been together for weeks now and banging two or three times a day without protection. Which, uh, is as much my fault as yours, but, well, that does lead to only one thing…”

Kazuma swallowed, his mind racing. He and Rin were both only 18, which was really too young to be married as far as Japan was concerned. In Belzerg, it was normal enough, but Kazuma didn’t really feel ready to be married and a father. Still, if it was Rin…

“Meh, it’s not like I’m not rich enough. We’ll just go back to Axel and have Aqua marry us before the kid comes,” Kazuma assured Rin, even if he felt like his head was spinning. “That was the plan anyway, right?”

“Right,” Rin agreed, pulling her dress back on. “Now I suppose we really should get some sleep before we try this infiltration mission.”

They curled up in one another’s arms in the straw, though it was some time before either slept. They didn’t say anything, but Kazuma knew he and Rin were both contemplating their uncertain future. “We’ll do it together,” he assured her, squeezing her tight. “No matter what it is.”

The Second Archon War: Comedia Glacialis 17

Comedia Glacialis 17: A Martial Theme Begins to Play

Provideniya Bay Airport was little more than a strip of asphalt and a few small huts, set between mountains next to the sea. Typically, the sort of flights it serviced were small single-engine craft, not a Boeing 737. It was also completely closed to foreign flights, but a special exception had been made this day. 

Bronya watched as the plane flew in, resting on the throne she’d ordered constructed for her. It was an ornately carved wooden chair on a raised platform at the end of the runway, but she’d covered it in frost to give it the proper aspect. She watched as the American airplane came to a halt, her Dancer and the Servant riding atop it. They both jumped from the back of the plane, going to the side entrance, where stairs were already being wheeled over. 

The door to the plane popped open, and a disheveled girl stood there in the portal. She looked out from the door, biting her lip nervously. Bronya hid a smile. It had been pathetically easy to manipulate Riley. She had searched the world for the greatest bio-tinker around, and Riley had been the one she’d chosen to cast as her Pater. The girl was desperately lonely and in search of a family, and so, Bronya had provided her with dreams of one. All it had taken was for her Thief to establish a connection, and after that, things had proceeded exactly according to her script. 

Instead of waiting for the stairs the stagehands were bringing, the Dancer began to construct a staircase of water. Taking her Servant’s hand, she glided up the flight to where Riley stood trembling and nervous, looking at the Dancer with wide eyes. 

Come, child. I am Anastasia the Dancer. This is Thoma the Servant. We welcome you to your new home, Riley Grace Davis. 

Tears filled the child’s eyes, and she eagerly embraced the Dancer. “Are…are you my new family?!”

Of course. You shall be my beloved little sister. But now, it is time to meet our Sovereign Mother.

With great trepidation, Riley accepted Anasasasia’s hand, walking down the watery steps to where the Tsaritsa sat, waiting. 

This was all scripted, of course. Broyna stood as they approached, coming down from her stage to kneel before Riley and embrace her with warm arms. “Welcome, child. Let us dry your tears. No more shall you weep, for you shall remain ever at my side.”

Riley was blubbering now. She was quite young, only ten winters. And yet, she bore the burden of enormous power. Even as she embraced Riley, Bronya reached into the girl’s soul, where the demonic parasite had bonded with her. She grasped the creature, freezing it in place. Slowly, carefully, she dragged the entire beast into Riley while it was still alive. Then, delicately, she grafted the creature completely onto Riley’s being.

Gasping, Riley stiffened, her eyes glowing with a blue light as her soul was rewoven. The poor thing would no longer be human, of course. Much like her Prince or Dancer, Riley was now a hybrid of demon and human. That wasn’t what really mattered. What mattered was that her powers were not only amplified but now completely under the control of the being who had once been the mortal girl Riley Davis, known as Bonesaw. 

And Riley was absolutely loyal to the Tsaritsa. Which meant that all that power now acted according to Bronya’s direction, and no others. 

Sealing the act with a kiss on Riley’s forehead, Bronya stood, gently caressing Riley’s face as the girl shivered in the cold. Extending a hand, a thick coat was placed in Bronya’s hands, and she wrapped it about Riley. “No longer will the world know you as Bonesaw. You shall be my Pater, dearest Riley. Now come. Take the stage with me.”

“But…Pater means Father, doesn’t it?” Riley asked, clearly confused. “I’m a girl…”

Bronya’s lips quirked slightly. She would have to tell the child of her beloved Knave one day. “It is a jest. One few will grasp, but I find it amusing. And, I know who else you have brought with you, Pater. Let us ascend that you may call your children to you.”

Squaring her shoulders under the mantle of her greatcoat, Riley slipped her hand into Bronya’s, and strode up onto the stage alongside her. There, she was met by Kollei, who also knelt to embrace the girl. 

“Welcome, Riley. I’m Kollei. You can think of me as your big sister. If you ever need anything, just ask. Here, I brought you some food and hot tea,” Kollei said, pressing bread, salt, and a steaming cup of strong tea into Riley’s hands. 

“T-thank you,” Riley sniffled, gratefully accepting the food and scarfing it down. “I-I’ll be the best little sister ever!” 

“I’m sure you will,” Kollei agreed, standing and turning back to the plane. “But Mother tells me that you brought someone else with you?”

Bronya smiled, resting a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Pater. Introduce us to the first of your…children.”

“Uh, you mean my creations?” Riley asked nervously.

“No, no. The others. The ones you brought with you,” Bronya coaxed. 

“How did you know? I…I just bought them because…HE wanted them,” Riley said, her face contorting in a snarl of anger. 

“And yet, you shall be a far better parent than that monster ever was,” Bronya said. She made a grand gesture towards the plane still sitting on the runway, the steps finally put in place. “So call forth your children, Pater, and found the new House of the Hearth.” 

Nodding, Riley a hand to her mouth and shouted, “Jean-Paul, Cherie! Come out!”

There was silence from the plane for a long moment, but Bronya had to hide a smile. She could sense them already on that plane, and one of them was already one of her children. After a few moments, a boy and a girl appeared at the head of the stairs. They were holding hands, and the boy held a Cryo Vision in his fist. The girl was the elder of the pair, around sixteen, while the boy was eleven or so. They walked slowly down the stairs, the boy’s face locked in a scowl, while the girl was smiling brightly. 

“Your Majesty! Such an honor to meet you!” the girl said, in French of all things, then knelt on the ground. The boy tried to resist it, but his sister pulled him down to kneel beside her, even as he glared at Bronya.

How adorable. They’d worked all this out together beforehand. 

“Child, I must caution you,” Bronya said, and Jean-Paul’s scowl deepened. “Not you, my son. You have already heard my voice and know it. Your sister. There are many you may manipulate with your abilities, young one. But do not attempt to use them on myself or my Harbingers.”

Cherie’s eyes widened and her smile slipped, freezing on her face in a rictus. 

“I-I don’t know what you mean, y-your Majesty, I-”

“Shut up. I told you it wouldn’t work. You know what happened to Nikos when he tried it on the Raiden Shogun,” Jean-Paul said, ripping his fingers out of his sister’s grasp. He stalked forward, standing before Bronya at the foot of the steps up to her stage. “Why should I serve you? What’s the difference between you and my sperm donor? Aren’t you just another monster?”

“Jean…come,” Bronya said, crooking a finger. The boy continued to glare at her, and Bronya laughed in delight. “Do not fear. You see the gift heaven has given you?”

He nodded, clutching his Vision to his chest. “It’s mine. You can’t have it.” 

“Jean, do you not recall who gave it to you?” Bronya coaxed. “I am not like Heartbreaker. I do not enslave those who serve me. They do so willingly. Nor do I simply take what I wish to indulge some base animalistic urges. What I seek is the same as what I told you. Do you remember?”

The scowl slipped from Jean-Paul’s face, and he looked down into the heart of his Vision. 

Scorned by the world, you are rejected because of your heritage. 

You seek only the warmth of Love, searching for the family that is all around you.

Heedless of the world, you walk only your own path, refusing to let your Heart melt.

Let my Love fill you, Child of Grief. 

 A tear rolled down Jean-Paul’s cheek, and he looked up, his face scrunching up as he began to sniffle. “Will you…will you reject us too?”

“No, Jean-Paul. Go. Stand with your Pater. You shall make a family with her. She shall make you and your siblings into the family you have always longed for,” Bronya promised. 

“Not just me and Cherie?” Jean-Paul asked, frowning. “I don’t like the others much. Not even Cherie. We just came because the Nine said we were their new recruits. I didn’t want to join, but Riley said if I went along she’d take me somewhere safe. Is that…here?”

“Of course it is,” Riley said, coming over and hugging Jean. They were about the same age, so it would be a bit odd for her to be Pater to children older than she was. But that was where the comedy in Bronya’s play came in. What was life without a hint of irony?

Bronya’s eyes tracked to Cherie, who was cowering and trying to make herself small, all the while she gently tried to tug on the emotional strings of those around her. The Dancer’s lips and firmed into a thin line, and her expression smoldered with anger. The Servant could not, of course, feel anything his mistress did not allow. Jean-Paul was largely immune thanks to his Vision, but was still mildly effected. But Pater…

“See to your charge, Pater. Her discipline is in your hands,” Bronya commanded. 

“Yes, your Majesty,” the new harbinger agreed. When she turned, her eyes began to glow with power, streams of cryo floating into the air as she rounded on Cherie. You were told to cease, my child. It seems you need discipline. 

“W-what!? N-no, I-I just-” Cherie stammered. She tried to rise to her feet, but Riley extended an arm, and chains of ice wrapped themselves about her.

“A laboratory has been prepared for you. Know that I have given you knowledge, see to it that you modify your daughter such that she can no longer defy the commands of her Pater or her Tsaritsa,” the Dancer growled. “And tell your children if they ever dare attempt to manipulate me again, I will make them dance to my tune forever more.”

Do not think to harm my children, Pater snapped back, even as she began to drag the weeping Cherie away. They are my family. I will make sure they have the love and discipline they need.

“Please, no, I’ll be good!” Cherie begged, but got nowhere. Her pleading eyes turned to Jean-Paul, and she extended a manacled hand. “Brother! Please!” 

“You should have listened, Cherie. You know what happens when Father gets angry. Now we have a new one. I hope you’re happy,” Jean-Paul said in disgust. 

Come, Jean-Paul. You will be a good boy, will you not? You must set a good example for your sister, Pater said as she hauled away Cherie. 

“Yes, father,” Jean-Paul said as respectfully as he could manage, falling in beside his new parent, even if she was his own age. 

Good, good. I’d hate to have to punish you. Now, now, Cherie. Don’t cry. I have some wonderful ideas on how to help you be a good girl! Don’t worry, I’m nothing like Jack…

With that, Pater disappeared into the workshop prepared for her, where the screams of her naughty children would be muffled. Soon, all of Jean-Paul and Cherie’s children would be gathered in. Such useful abilities their demon gave them. And, thanks to the fact that they all shared the same demon, once Pater had established mastery over it…well. They would bring the entire family together ere long. 

Quietly, Kollei stepped up beside Bronya. “Mother…this seems cruel. To make a girl like that a parent, and to treat orphans like that? I know they are not our people, but…”

“Ah, but they will be. I shall find the children of all nations and welcome them into the House of the Hearth, with Pater to care for them. What she does now to Cherie is…necessary. She must learn how to modify demons so that they no longer harm their hosts, and are instead subservient to them.”

“But still, to do so to children…can’t we be kinder, gentler?” Kollei asked, wincing at the faint sobs and screams that were carried on the wind. 

“Russia is not a gentle place. Nor is this world a kind one. A Pater must be harsh with their children, that the children may grow strong, and flourish. I, their Mother, will not always be here to guide her children. That is why my Harbingers must stand ready to shepherd humanity, should anything happen to me. And why you must harden your heart, Kollei, for one day, you will wear my crown.”

That made her daughter wince. “Mother, I…I don’t want…you’re a god! You should live for hundreds of years!”

“Even if I do, one day, I will fall, and you must rise. The world will ever need a Cryo Archon. If not one of my harsh mien. Now come. We have a war to begin,” Bronya said, rising from her throne. “Prepare my sleigh!” 

Kollei followed Bronya with heavy steps as they went to her sleigh, where her bears were already waiting to drive them back to Moscow. 

“Will it really be war, mother?” Kollei asked quietly. 

“Mayhaps not. But the visions I have seen in the ice tell me that it must be war. If one wishes to save the world, one must first bring it to heel. Much as Pater is doing with her wayward child, so I must do with mine. All the Russias must be gathered before the final day, that I may strike down Heaven’s usurper and free humanity from his terrible yoke,” Bronya said, taking a seat as Servent took up the sleigh’s reins and Kollei sat beside her. 

“And the alternative…is the end of the world?” Kollei asked, staring out into the grey skies as the Dancer sat across from her and the sleigh lifted off into the skies. 

“Worse. The end of all worlds. It is the death of all stories, the destruction of Fate itself. Should the Sustainer’s plan succeed and I birth his terrible children, more worlds will suffer the same fate. Which is why before I allow myself to succumb to him, I shall take my own life,” Bronya said calmly. 

Kollei looked sick, but she nodded. “I suppose…in the face of that…any measures…are justified.”

“Our prize is heaven, but our penalty is worse than death for all mankind,” the Dancer agreed. “In such times, we must do all we can to support our Tsaritsa.”

“Then…it must be war,” Kollei said, tears trickling down her cheeks. 

Bronya reached out, wiping away her daughter’s sorrow. “Weep now, my child. For later, you must have a heart of ice.”

Despite the festive Christmas decorations that covered Warsaw, Kollei saw little warmth in the city. The people went about with grim expressions on their faces, and there was a frosty chill in the air. The decorations brought her no joy, as Kollei knew that the mostly Catholic Poland had not converted to worship her mother in the Church of the Frozen Heart as most of Russia had. 

And, from reading her textbooks, she knew what her welcome was likely to be even before she had landed. The cold stares and dark looks that the locals gave her when her sleigh touched down only confirmed it. 

“Presenting her Imperial Highness, Princess Kollei Bronislavovna Snezhnaya!” the Prince barked, hand on his cavalry saber as he waved his hand, a carpet of ice spreading out before the sleigh as her Fatui guards knelt before her. 

“HAIL, TSARINA!” 

The Polish delegation was stone-faced and grim, a collection of government officials and capes that had come to the airport to ‘welcome’ Kollei and her embassy. Their leaders were a man and a woman Kollei recognized: Szlachtaks, and the Azure Witch. 

“Princess,” the Azure Witch said, nodding to her, but offering no obeisance . She did give a polite smile. “Welcome to Poland. I hope your visit is one of friendship and peace.”

Her giant of a companion was silent, his arms folded across this broad chest, a scowl on his face. He knew perfectly well why Kollei was here. They all did. 

“Thank you, Kruzchka. I bring an offer from my Mother, the Tsaritsa. One that I hope will unite our nations in Love,” Kollei said, continuing to follow the script her mother laid out, even if she knew it would end in sorrow and blood. 

That made Rozalyn’s face tighten. Her fingers went to a very prominent rosary around her neck, to which a golden crucifix was affixed. “I hope you know that unlike some, Poland will not abandon our God in favor of an anti-Christ.”

Kollei winced. Her mother had joined the Raiden Shogun on the list of Archons that the Vatican had denounced as Antichrists for her persecution of the Orthodox Church. For, once their fellow Christians had put aside their differences and taken in a great many refugees, with the Pope even attending an Orthodox Mass said by the Patriarch in Exile, one Father Aleksandr. 

Why couldn’t Mother have been more gentle? Lord Barbatos is revered as an Angel of God, as is Lord Buer, even if she is Muslim. If we could have united Christendom under her banner…

But it was far, far too late for such thoughts. 

“I believe that one day, all will be united in my Mother’s Divine love. She healed me, and all of Russia. She simply wishes to extend such an offer to all. But, I get ahead of myself. Let us not tarry,” Kollei said, turning away from the tarmac they’d made her sleigh land on at Chopin Airport towards the waiting motorcade. 

She took the arm the Prince offered her, his steps small and measured to accommodate her smaller stride. She was dressed for the day in the finery of an imperial princess, all in silver and light blue, save for the glowing emerald gem at her breast. She bore a tiara with the cryo sigil on it, and a long ermine cape that trailed behind her, flowers sprouting in her wake. It was a small display of divine power, but one she needed to make on this day. Even as her limousine peeled away from the airport, she made sure to continue the effect, flowers blooming amidst the snow and slush of the road as she traveled. 

She waved to those she passed, her limo being open air, but aside from sullen faces, she only saw banners with words like “GO HOME MOSKAL” and “POLAND BOWS TO NO CROWN.”

She felt her heart chill, just as her mother had told her to do. What else could she do? These people did not seem interested in her overture of peace. 

The grand Sejm and Senate Complex was located in the heart of Warsaw, and it was where most of the protesters were concentrated. Kollei saw a few with Imperial Flags or the Sigil of the Frozen Heart, but they were surrounded by Fatui or police to protect them from furious citizens who attempted to throw snowballs or worse, despite their protection. 

One protester, braver and more foolish than most, attempted to throw a rotten tomato at Kollei. In a flash, the Prince blocked the move, and his shimmering power enveloped the youth, who began to scream in pain and terror. 

Ajaks was there in an instant, his fists colliding with the Prince’s Blade in a sudden flurry of blows. The crowd roared and screamed, and they were mere breaths from a disaster that could have left hundreds dead. 

IVAN. STAND DOWN. Kollei barked, divine power filling her as she rose up from the ground, forcibly pulling him back with a carpet of thorns. Citizens fell to their knees in terror and awe, and Kollei winced. She didn’t like drawing so deeply on her mother’s power, but she saw no other way to descalate this.

“Ajaks! Back off! The man attempted to attack a diplomatic envoy!” Rozalyn commanded, her shimmering constructs zipping back and forth through the man and making him convulse slightly. 

“Fine. But this is the last time, Ruski!” Ajaks spat, a gleeful gleam in his eyes now. “Do not think next time I will go so easy on you!”

The Sleeper ignored him, sheathing his sword and turning to Kollei. “Forgive me, Princess. I thought only of your safety. Are you well?”

“I am fine,” Kollei said, letting go of her mother’s mantle and sinking back to the ground. “Come. We are here for peace. Not war.”

“As you say, your Highness,” the Prince agreed, bowing to her. 

With a heavy heart, Kollei trod up the steps, the stairs lined with soldiers and Polish capes. Several of them looked like they wished to throw something at her as well, and not just produce. 

They arrived to a joint session of the Sejm and Senate, with the President and Prime minister there along with the heads of the military. None looked best pleased to see Kollei, though the President shook her hand and gave a short speech that alluded to a desire for “peaceful co-existance.”

He knew perfectly well the Tsaritsa was interested in no such thing, and Kollei forced her heart to freeze a little more. 

She stepped up to the podium, and it was not her voice that spoke, but that of her mother. She had to follow the Script. The fate of the world was on the line. Of all worlds.

“Brothers and sisters, I came to you as a fellow Slav this day,” Bronya said, looking out at the unwelcoming faces in the assembled parliament. “Once, not long ago, our peoples were united in friendship and Love, together as Slavic nations that worked together for the good of both our peoples. We find ourselves in grim and dark times, when monsters prowl the world, and chaos reigns over the earth.”

“Not in Poland!” someone shouted, and there were shouts of agreement and scattered applause. 

Kollei waited for it to die down, then continued to read her script. “My Mother, her Serene Benevolence, the Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon, wishes to gather in all her wayward children. She has seen the horror and devastation wrought in Kiev by the Endbringers, and it causes her great grief. I myself witnessed the destruction of Old Moscow by the Behemoth. Such things can not be allowed to happen in Poland, nor in any of the lands of my mother’s children.”

“As such, my Mother wishes to extend her Loving Embrace to the people of Poland. She-”

The boos and shouts drowned out Kollei’s next words, and when it did not stop, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw through the eyes of a god.

SILENCE. YOUR MOTHER SPEAKS. 

The room went from raucous outrage to fearful silence in but a breath, fear etched on every face, save for those of Kollei’s entourage, who kneeled in adoration. 

I HAVE SENT MY DAUGHTER TO YOU TO OFFER YOU FOOLISH CHILDREN PEACE. YOU MAY KEEP YOUR OWN GOVERNMENT AND SELF RULE FOR NOW, AND SHOULD YOU PROVE YOURSELVES CAPABLE, MAY CONTINUE IN THAT CAPACITY. 

Kollei drifted outside of her body, her spirit watching as her mother spoke through her, her Divine Will and power manifesting in Kollei’s prepared vessel. It was eerie, it was terrifying.

It was necessary. 

THERE IS BUT ONE REQUIREMENT: I AM A JEALOUS GOD. YOU MUST REDEDICATE YOURSELVES TO ME. YOUR WORSHIP AND FAITH IS REQUIRED THAT I MAY PROTECT YOU FROM THE DEMON BEASTS AND THEIR GOLDEN MASTER. IF YOU DEFY ME, THEN I SHALL DISCIPLINE YOU AS THE WAYWARD CHILDREN YOU ARE. 

SUBMIT NOW, AND YOU WILL BE BLESSED BY MY LOVE AND PROTECTION. RESIST, AND YOU WILL FEEL THE CHILL OF MY WRATH. 

Silence reigned. For a moment, a brief, beautiful moment, Kollei thought that these mortals might submit to her mother’s will. That they might be spared the horrors of war. 

Then, an old man stood. He did so shakily, with the aid of a cane. His skin was liver-spotted, and he was wrinkled and scarred by the troubles of life. He had on an old military uniform, one that was a bit big on his bent form now, but Kollei recognized it: it was a dress uniform from the Second Polish Republic, circa 1938. 

“I remember when the Russians promised us peace many long years ago,” the old man said in a reedy, quavering voice. “I remember when they broke their promises to us. When they slaughtered our people and divided our land  with the Nazis. Then, when they were driven out, they returned, claiming to save us from worse masters. I remember suffering under their heel for fifty years! Fifty years of slavery! I will not do so again. I choose freedom. Get out, you filthy demon bitch!” 

“BITCH!”

“GET OUT, DEMON!” 

“DEMON BITCH!” 

“POLAND!”

“POLAND!”

“POLSKA!” The room cried with one voice.

Kollei’s mother’s anger was palpable, the temperature dropping as a blizzard began to rage outside. THEN YOU CHOOSE MY WRATH. 

With a tug, Kollei found herself back in her own body. She took a shuddering breath, then looked to her servants, who had their weapons out, forming a protective ring about her. 

“You should leave. Now,” Rozalyn growled, stepping forward. “Do not return.”

“I think you will find that we will return sooner than you might think,” the Prince said with a sneer on his handsome face. “Come, Princess. Leave these fools for now. We shall return in triumph soon.”

A heart of ice. Cooly, Kollei turned her back, and walked out into the blizzard. 

At sunset, New Moscow declared war. 

By sunrise, the Fatui had crossed into Poland. 

And all the while, the Sustainer of Heavenly principles looked on. And smiled. 

Author’s Note:

So, I’ve changed a bit regarding Bonesaw’s placement in the Harbingers from the Threat Assessment. Keep in mind I have to change these things up as the story evolves because they’re really just my notes for a rough draft of things. But isn’t it nice that Riley has such a Loving Family now? She can be Pater to all these wonderful people…

Also, for those keeping score, yes, that’s the last of the Undersiders, Alec. Like Sarah, he’s going by Jean-Paul for now as he has no reason to take on a pseudonym yet.  To fit the pattern, he has received a Vision instead of Triggering. And much like before, when he joins the Undersiders, he’s going to have a secret from his past with devastating consequences and connections to the S9. It’s just that it’s a little more personal this time. 

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 10

Superbia Hominum 10: The First Sinner

With Scion’s decree against nuclear weapons at the conclusion of the Third Sino-Japanese War, NORAD became defunct. It was already in the mothballing process after the Endbringers arrived, and Parahumans replaced America’s strategic nuclear arsenal as deterrents. Now the process was complete. All of America’s nuclear arms were destroyed or dismantled. 

That meant the Cheyenne Mountain Complex was unoccupied. And, with Cauldron knowing its Earth Lambda complex was compromised, they had relocated to the most secure facility on the North American continent. Wyatt and a team of Tinkers and Thinkers were still working on improving security and attempting to ensure that a repeat of the Fatui raid would be impossible, but the most important projects that had been salvaged were already setting up and resuming. 

Sitting in an office that once belonged to an Air Force general, Doctor Mother adjusted her lab so that her plants could begin to grow. She’d had to transplant them from the pots that had been smashed in the raid. She hadn’t always been one to cultivate flowers and herbs, but ever since gaining her Dendro Vision Fatoumata had taken to gardening. At first it had just been to gain access to more Dendro Energy, but she’d found she rather enjoyed fresh mint and ginger for her tea. 

The door slid open, and Doctor Mother squinted, reaching for her glasses. Her eyesight had gotten increasingly poor in the past few years. Too much staring at screens and not enough time in the sunlight. “Yes? My next appointment isn’t for-”

“Sorry to bother you, Doctor Mother,” Dr. Meliton's voice said. “But there’s a few things I need you to look over before I approve them.”

Finding her glasses, Fatoumata forced a smile on her lips as she studied her new head researcher, the previous one having been killed in the raid. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Previously, Meliton had been a mousey if plain woman in her late 20s whose most notable feature was that her hair was going green. Now she had a bedraggled, wild look, thanks to the green pinions sprouting from her arms that now ended in yellowed talons, more feathers poking up out of her messy mane of hair, and two legs with backward bending knees that similarly ended in talons. 

Thankfully, her claws on both feet and hands were quite dexterous, and from what Fatoumouta had heard Meliton could now fly thanks to her bones becoming hollow along with her new wings. 

Behind her came a silent, blank-faced man. His features were a little too perfect, his motions slightly stiff and jerky. That made sense, as the man was essentially a bio-android instead of a natural creature. His long sandy hair was pulled back in a bun, and his body was slim and somewhat androgynous. 

“Albedo, give the doctor the reports,” Meliton said, nodding to the man. 

The construct was silent, coming forward and placing a folder on Fatoumata’s desk. She scrutinized ‘Albedo,’ then turned to Dr. Meliton. “So, your experiment was a success then?”

The doctor stiffened, then hesitantly nodded slightly. “Yes…and no. Albedo is alive, but…he’s not the man I was seeking to revive.”

The man in question didn’t seem terribly interested in the conversation, even though it concerned him. He had wandered over to the plants, and was leaning over to peer at them more closely. 

“What is he, then?” Fatoumata asked curiously, weaving a probe of Dendro. “Albedo, come over here.”

“Um, well, he’s…” Meliton stammered, but Albedo had obediently turned to Fatoumata, who took his hand and sent her spell into the man.

What she sensed nearly made her heart stop. Albedo wasn’t a man. True, he wore the flesh of a man, but what was hidden inside…

“He’s a Shard,” Fatoumata said, withdrawing her probe while looking at Albedo in horror. “One of Eden’s. He’s…he’s supposed to be dead!” 

“But he isn’t. That’s, um, the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Meliton admitted. “Albedo…well…he’s a completed Shard, it seems. Not just the fragments we normally get. Isn’t that right, Albedo?”

“I am uncertain as to your definition of these words in relation to this vessel,” Albedo said in rather robotic tones. 

Still, Doctor Mother was trying to wrap her brain around just what the implications of this were. “If that’s the case, then we didn’t lose everything when the Tsaritsa betrayed us. We still have one of Eden’s primary shards.”

“Um, yes, well…it’s…sort of…also in me,” Meliton admitted nervously, hiding behind her clipboard. 

“That…explains a few things,” Doctor Mother said, her mind racing as she tried to grasp the implications. If they could figure out what this Shard could do, and continue to replicate it, they’d have a steady source of powers to use. 

“I’ve already tried making a vial from Albedo’s flesh and blood, but it didn’t work properly. The subjects didn’t even die, they just didn’t Trigger at all,” Meliton explained. “So I’m not sure what we can do…”

Albedo had wandered back to the plants again, and was examining one of Doctor Mother’s mint plants. He pointed to it. “This one is dying.”

“Hmm? Yes, I used it earlier to renew myself,” Doctor Mother said, still focused on Meliton. “Not Triggering? We may have to explore new-”

There was a soft glow, and both women turned to see Albedo’s hands glowing with power. Not the power of a parahuman’s powers at work, but elemental energy. He was using Dendro.

“The lifeform is stabilized,” he informed them, his expression still completely devoid of any emotion. 

“That should be impossible,” Doctor Mother gasped, standing and hurrying over to inspect the plant. “How could he- does he have a Vision?” 

“No, I don’t think so. He doesn’t seem to meet any of the criteria anyway, not for a Dendro Vision at least,” Meliton said, coming over and doing a scan with her own Anemo. “Mr. Albedo…can you use Anemo too?”

He nodded, forming a sphere of wind in his hand. “I have access to all seven elements.”

“Wait, all seven?!” both doctors demanded in unison, sharing a startled look. 

“It can’t be Pyro, Geo, and Hydro,” Doctor Mother muttered. There was no way that stupid children’s card game could-

Albedo simply nodded again, producing an amber crystalline construct, a glowing red flame, and a swirling orb of azure. 

“I think…I think I need to take him back to the lab,” Meliton said, sounding somewhat faint. 

“Most likely. Run a thorough analysis. See if you can figure out how he’s generating those other varieties of Elemental Energy and how we can harness them,” Doctor Mother ordered. 

“Come along, Mr. Albedo,” Meliton said, leading her creation away. Doctor Mother watched them go, shaking her head, and getting out a fresh notebook. She had just started to scribble away when the door opened again. 

“Hey, I waited until you weren’t too busy, but we really need to talk. It’s OK, I brought baklava,” Contessa said as she swept in, tossing her hat onto an empty chair and dragging another over after she plopped a fragrant cardboard box full of pastries onto Fatoumata’s desk. 

“I really shouldn’t,” she said, even as she eagerly dipped her hand in to extract a sticky treat. She licked her finger to get a little honey off and smiled. Well, with her Vision, she burned more calories than most anyway. A little stress eating wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

Contessa just munched away for a moment, a far-off look in her eyes, and Fatoumata let her wait. When Contessa had something to share, she would. 

At last, after they’d both polished off two whole pieces, Contessa reached into her jacket and pulled out a bronze knife in a simple leather sheath. “Recognize this?”

“How could I not?” Fatoumata said, accepting the knife from Contessa. “This is what you used to slay Eden.”

“Yep. Check it for Elemental Energy, would you?” Contessa asked. 

Frowning, Fatoumata complied. The knife came from a world without Elemental Energy, in a time before the Archons. Why would it have- She gasped in pain and had to turn off her Elemental Vision, as the Knife had been glowing so brightly she’d nearly been blinded. “What on Earth?!” 

“I named him Theoktónos. It means ‘Godkiller,’” Contessa said breezily. “Thought you’d want to know.”

“I…am not sure I understand. Was…Theotonas?”

“Theoktónos.” 

“Theoktónos, then. Was this knife…always like this?” Fatoumata asked, despite herself, slowly sliding the sheath off. The blade glowed softly with a deadly pale light, and just looking at it…she could feel the weight of its power. 

Cheerily, Contessa shook her head. “Nope! But I haven’t taken him out in years. I had him on me during the attack, and drew him to defend myself. Cut the Witch really badly. Which made me realize something! Of course the weapon that killed a god is powerful!” 

“Fortuna. It was a bronze knife. A poorly made, somewhat dull, bronze knife. It was barely a weapon,” Fatoumata said, shaking her head. And yet…what she held in her hand belied what she knew should have been true. 

“Yes, but he did something important. Weighty. He accomplished the single greatest feat in human history,” Contessa insisted, stabbing the table with her index finger and smearing honey on its polished surface. “And as anyone sensible knows, if something or someone does something that momentous, then the object itself becomes one of power.”

“That’s not…that’s not how things work at all!” Fatoumata said in exasperation.

“Really? Then explain THIS.” Contessa pulled out a scoped rifle, and dumped it on the table. 

“It’s…a gun,” Fatoumata said, still exasperated.

“Look at it! Examine it! FEEL IT!” the Thinker demanded, shoving the gun into Doctor Mother’s arms. 

There wasn’t much examination needed. The gun didn’t glow as brightly as the knife, nor feel as powerful, but…it was a weapon of power. Fatoumata could sense it. And as she examined it, something clicked, and she shoved the gun away from herself, breathing hard. “That! That’s the gun that shot-”

“President Kennedy, yes. I borrowed it from the National Archives earlier. And I don’t plan on giving it back. Just…look at it, Doc! That gun killed a powerful man! And only a powerful weapon could kill such a powerful man. So, now, it is!” Contessa said proudly. 

“But that’s not…That isn’t how…things don’t work that way!” Fatoumata protested, cradling her head in her hands. This defied all logic. And yet…

“You want to test it? I bet a bullet from this could kill a Brute cape that lacked an All-or-Nothing power, no problem. Or at least destroy a tank,” Contessa said, patting the rifle. “It’s an artifact of power. We have to move fast.”

“I…I guess we do,” Doctor Mother said, turning to her computer. She’d have to cross-reference lists of all the weapons that were still around that had been used in assassinations and murders of historical significance. It would probably be quite the long list…if they could find the actual Lance of Longinus…what was she thinking?! That was like the plot to a blockbuster movie, not reality! “Fortuna…”

“Look, it’s like I’ve been telling you. The gods are real. They’re HERE. Heroes, monsters, demons, it’s all real!” Fortuna insisted. “You have to start acting like it, or opportunities are going to slip through your fingers! You’ve ignored the existence of magic for too long. Well, you can DO magic! I can do magic! We have to treat the world the way I see it, not the way you blind uptimers do!”

For a moment, Doctor Mother hesitated. Everything she knew about the world was turning out to be a lie. If she let this foundation of scientific explanations for how the world worked slip away, what would she have left to stand on?

Then she rationalized. For one thing, it was manifestly obvious that even if she didn’t understand how, exactly, this worked, it clearly did. That knife and that gun were more than what they had been only a short time ago. Something had fundamentally changed in how the world worked. 

And, in the old world, they had no hope of defeating Scion and stopping his Cycle. Perhaps in this new one, they had a chance. Not a large one, but…well. 

Doctor Mother was nothing if not an optimist these days. 

“Send out memos to our teams to collect every single weapon of historical significance that we can. As well as the personal effects of any famous and powerful people. George Washington’s effects would be a good place to start. We’ve got to act quickly before others realize this,” Doctor Mother ordered.

“Start with the oldest and most powerful people first. Their weapons and possessions will have the most power. We should probably steal the Shroud of Turin,” Contessa said seriously. 

“Yes. Obviously,” Doctor Mother said, feeling dizzy. “Is it…fake?”

“Doesn’t matter. If it really does have the blood of God’s Son on it, then it will be extremely powerful. Even if enough people just believe it does, it will be a potent weapon,” Contessa said firmly.

“You could just tell me if it’s real or not,” Doctor Mother muttered, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

Contessa eyed her, then went over, picked up her hat, and drew the brim down low. “It’s real. Get it. Quickly.”

“Of course,” Doctor Mother agreed, trying to find her bearings. Had Contessa been lying? She couldn’t even begin to imagine, and it didn’t matter.  She took solace in the phone calls she made and the lists she drew up.

A Shard that had been brought back to life, and could use elemental energy. Weapons of legend and myth, imbued with power. The world was changing. Had changed. They had to catch up. And quickly. 

Across the table, Alexandria eyed Ajaks. That was probably a mistake, Rozalyn was the greater threat thanks to her Thinker and Master abilities. But there was something about the sheer animal charisma that Ajaks brought to the room that drew the eye. 

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Rozlyn asked, smiling at Alexandria. 

“I’m here in my official capacity, but for today, covertly,” Alexandria told them. She was dressed in her cape uniform, though she had it changed recently. Instead of the more practical grey and black, she looked like a gaudy flying American flag in red, white, blue, and gold trim, with the seal of the office of the President on her chest. Technically, she wouldn’t take office for another three weeks, but she didn’t have time to wait on that. 

“So your message said. Now, why are you here?” Ajaks growled, his expression stony. 

Alexandria produced several papers, and passed them over. “As you know, at one point, the Warsaw Pact and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization were once the division between East and West?”

Rozlyn accepted the papers, while Ajaks’ expression grew mystified. “Warsaw Pact? NATO? But, these are defunct. Deader than the Soviet Union, curse its name,” Ajaks said, sounding rather perplexed. 

“The Warsaw Pact, yes. It dissolved with the reunification of Germany and the dissolution of the Soviet Union. NATO, however, still exists. At least on paper. No nation has contributed the proper amount of funds in over a decade, nor have any joint training exercises been held in even longer, but, on paper, NATO as an alliance is alive and well,” Alexandria told them. “And, in case you haven’t noticed, while the USSR is dead, something much more dire has arisen.”

“The Tsaritsa. She’s already annexed Ukraine, to little resistance,” Rozlyn said, her tone calm, but Alexandria could read the tension in her body language no matter how the Azure Witch tried to suppress it. 

“Well she’ll well damn well find some resistance when she tries it on Poland!” Ajaks snarled, smalling his fist on the table so hard the wood splintered. 

“As it should be. And I’m here to offer you membership in NATO. I’ll meet with your President later, but I want your backing when I do it,” Alexandria said. 

Ajaks shook his head. “But, won’t you need the approval of all the other member states?”

“I have it. For Poland, Lithuania, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Sweden. More to come, if we can get the ball rolling in Poland. Everyone recognizes the threat the Tsaritsa presents. We want to be able to announce as many countries are joining NATO at the same time as possible,” Alexandria said firmly. 

Rozlyn’s eyes lit up, but Ajaks threw his head back and laughed. “And so, when she invades, the Protectorate flies to our rescue! Why should we believe you? You flew to hers not long ago.”

“And she rewarded us by killing our people and destroying one of our research facilities, a facility that was to be a joint operation between us. We gave her the hand of peace. Now, we extend our fist in war,” Alexandria declared. “Are you in, or out?” 

“We are in,” Rozlyn said, extending her hand to Alexandria. They exchanged a firm handshake, as Ajaks roared with more laughter. 

“Yes! It will be a GLORIOUS fight! Let us prepare for war!” the big man crowed. 

Alexandria didn’t know about glorious, but she did know one thing.

Never again. Never again would she trust an Archon. And this time, the Tsaritsa would respond to them. Not the other way around. 

Reaching out his hand, Eidolon called for a Blaster power, even as the Behemoth bore down on him. He summoned forth his will and-

Nothing. He tried again, reaching for that power that was always so close. But there was nothing. He’d run dry. 

Screaming, he tried to race forward, tried to warn Hannah, who was firing upon the behemoth with a pistol, her bullets plinking off uselessly. But no sound escaped from his mouth, and it was like he ran through mud. Then, he heard the creaking of wheels, and he looked down.

He was back in his wheelchair. He looked up, seeing the Leviathan, Behemoth, and Simurgh towering over him, as the Twins put their hands to his chair. 

Father. We’ve been waiting for you. We’ll take care of you now. 

With a jolt, Eidolon’s eyes shot open and he gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling. He sat up, calling on his powers. He could feel them. They were still there. He wasn’t on empty yet. 

“David?” Hannah sat up next to him, strands of hair obscuring her face, her eyes clouded with sleep. 

“Nothing. Just a nightmare. I was…I was back in my wheelchair,” David admitted, flopping back onto the pillow.

“Mmph.” Hannah didn’t leave him alone, God bless her. She snuggled up, wrapping her arms around him. He did the same, holding her tight as he tried to fight back the fear. The feeling of being Unworthy. 

“I’m so afraid,” he whispered. “What if…what if my powers do run out? We don’t…we don’t have any more vials ready. I…I’ll be back in the chair. Useless. I can’t do that.”

“You’re not useless,” Hannah told him, squeezing him tightly. “No more than I’m just a scared little girl in that minefield.”

That made David shudder. Hannah’s trigger event had taken place when Turkish soldiers had forced the children of her village at gunpoint to clear a minefield. By walking across it. She’d watched several of her friends blown to bloody bits before it had been her turn, and she’d Triggered. She’d ended the bloodshed by gunning down those men, too late to save her family or most of her friends.

She’d been eleven. No child should have had to go through that. If David had thought his childhood was rough…

They just held one another in the dark of the night, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, Hannah said, “I don’t think I can go back to sleep. You?”

“No,” Eidolon agreed. “Not like we need to, anyway.”

“Yes, but it’s…nice. I hadn’t slept for…a very long time. Before I met you. You sort of forget, how much you need it. How much it keeps you human. Rest. It seems like a waste, but…we have to have it.”

“We can rest when Scion is dead,” Eidolon said, kissing the top of Hannah’s head before sitting up. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”

They both dressed quickly, neither having to say what kind of clothes to put on. When Eidolon slipped his mask into place, he felt like he could breathe again. This was who he was now. Not that weakling child stuck in a wheelchair. That had been David. He was Eidolon. He was strong. He was Worthy. He had a woman who loved him now. 

He was getting stronger. He would succeed. 

Last, David reached out and picked up the glowing amber gem on his nightstand. Of all the Delusions, the Geo one spoke to him the most strongly. It spoke of promises broken and the world in upheaval. He could understand that. And if he was going to face the Behemoth, he’d need to master this force. 

“Feels sort of sacrilegious, don’t you think?” David commented, turning to Hannah who was checking her own weapon. 

She shrugged, spinning the cylinder. “Not really. I was never much of a Beatles fan. But you saw what this baby can do, and Armory has already assimilated the power. The form matters though.”

John Lennon had been one of David’s personal heroes growing up, and he’d always loved the Beatles himself. Still, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. His girlfriend not loving his favorite band wasn’t grounds for a breakup. Though it did still feel odd to see her with the weapon that had killed a legend.

“I mean, I’m using a Delusion. One given to us by the Tsaritsa. She said it was the blood of a dead god, which is nonsense, but…”

“If anything could be called an evil god, don’t you think it would be Eden?” Hannah asked somberly, holstering the .38 caliber pistol. 

He grunted, unable to articulate an answer, but the whole thing still felt deeply wrong to him. 

“Where too?” he asked, affixing the Delusion to his right arm. He could feel it biting into him, like it was drinking his blood. That was nonsense, they’d tested the Delusions and they did no such thing, but it still felt wrong somehow. He’d get over it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d used something evil for good. 

“Let’s check the scanner for anything juicy,” Hannah said, and a helmet slid over her own face as she put a finger to her ear and listened. 

Eidolon did the same, using his Thinker powers to scan multiple bandwidths at once. He was listening to the usual when-

“Repeat, the Nine are at Anchorage Airport, and they’re tearing the place apart! Jesus fucking Christ, we need help now! Our local capes aren’t-”

“The Nine, Anchorage, now!” Hannah said at the same time that Eidolon opened his mouth.

He nodded, and instead said, “Door me, Anchorage International Airport!”

A door swung open in mid-air into a howling blizzard, and they both charged through into screams and blood. A plane, sliced neatly in half, was burning on the tarmac, while another was flipped over with a wing ripped off, bodies piled around it. 

No, not piled. As Eidolon lifted into the air, he saw they spelled out a message. 

Bye, bye, Jack

What was that bastard and his band of maniacs up to this time? 

He barely dodged a blade that came out of nowhere, and below him, Hannah was hard pressed by Shatterbird and Crawler. 

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Jack Slash screamed, drawing another knife and slashing the air. Eidolon managed to take it on a shield he summoned, but only barely. 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. This ends now,” Eidolon growled, firing back a beam of red hot fire to burn away the cold. 

Jack dodged to the side, frothing at the mouth as he glared at Eidolon. “I know you took her from me! I saw the bodies! SHE LEFT THEM! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER!?” 

Witty repartee wasn’t something Eidolon had any interest in, so he just tried blasting Jack again. Screaming, the man sliced the fire in half somehow, the flung both knives at Eidolon, who was forced to dodge to the side. 

“David! Siberian on me!” Hannah’s voice called, breathy and half panicked. 

Swearing, David spun away, calling for some all or nothing Brute powers. He smashed into the Siberian just before she could lay hands on Hannah, who for all her new powers would have been rendered to bloody chunks before the naked striped woman. 

“Thanks,” Hannah gasped, firing her gun, which didn’t so much as annoy the Siberian. It seemed even a gun that could kill a legend couldn’t break the Siberian’s All or Nothing endurance. Not that it mattered unless they could find and assassinate that bastard Manton, wherever he was. There weren’t many who knew of Cauldron’s greatest failure, and Eidolon needed to keep it that way.

Eidolon forgot about offence: he’d need to burn to many valuable powers in order to pop the Siberian this time and banish the projection for a time. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kept his Geo barriers intact enough to weather the storm. To his horror, the shields failed faster than he could put them up, and in mere seconds he had only a single amber wall between himself and death as he stared into the eyes of a mad killer.

Then, something more horrific than he could have imagined happened: The Siberian spoke.

“Where is Riley?” the woman purred. Her voice was higher pitched than Eidolon would have thought. He’d have imagined something animalistic and deep This was melodic and soothing, almost like a trained singer. 

“I…what? You mean Bonesaw?” he said, blinking in astonishment. He hadn’t thought the Siberian was even sentient, let alone capable of speech. He’d thought she was pure Id, Manton’s desire for wonton destruction made manifest. 

“Yes. Did you take her? I don’t think the Protectorate did, but Jack is being unreasonable,” the Siberian said with an almost girlish giggle. 

“No. I would have simply killed her,” Eidolon admitted. 

“Hmm. She’s been having dreams. Visions. She didn’t tell the others, but she did tell me. Dreams of ice. That’s why we came here. But the blue eyes she spoke of, and that haunting song… I think that girl’s been led astray,” the Siberian mused. She suddenly turned, leaping away.

“What?! Fuck off, you big ugly bitch! Hey! PUT ME DOWN!” Jack raged as the Siberian scooped him up, then ran off into the snowstorm. Eidolon stood there, panting for a moment, as the sounds of battle faded, and the Nine vanished.

“Let them go!” Hannah said, landing by him. “Bonesaw’s on a plane! One headed for the Bering Strait!” 

“The Siberian spoke to me. Said Bonesaw was having Visions of Ice, blue eye, and a song,” Eidolon said, lifting off again.

“The Siberian did what?! Nevermind. We have to get to that plane,” Hannah said, and the two of them took off into the howling wind. 

It didn’t take long to find the correct channel for the plane in distress, as there was a little girl’s voice, singing in what sounded like Russian. 

Spi moya radost' usni

Spi, moya rádost', usní.

V dóme pogásli ogní,

Ptíchki pritíkhli v sádu,

Rýbki usnúli v prudu.

Mésyats na nébe blestít,

Mésyats v okóshko glyadít.

Glazki skorée somkní,

Spi, moya rádost', usní

“A nursery rhyme?” Eidolon muttered, translating the song for himself. “What the hell?”

“Flight AS-082, turn back immediately! You are heading for Russian airspace,” Miss Militia said over the radio. 

The song paused, and then there was a girlish giggle. “Is that you, Miss Militia? Don’t worry, it’s OK! I’ve been invited! She’s calling me…calling me home! I have to go to her…”

A further chill ran down Eidolon’s spine. The Tsaritsa. It had to be the Tsaritsa. But how? How was she calling to Bonesaw? They’d never met, and the girl spent most of her time in the lower 48, thousands of miles from New Moscow. How?!

“Bonesaw, if you do not immediately turn that flight around, we will bring you down,” Miss Militia said grimly. “We will intercept in less than ten minutes.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that. You see…I haven’t made any of my adorable creations on this flight yet! But I could~! I have all my tools with me! Isn’t that right, Mary?”

“P-please!” a woman’s voice gasped. “Please save us! She’s got monsters with her! She’s going to-AAAAA!” The scream cut off in a wet noice, and Eidolon gritted his teeth.

“Oopsie! Oh dearie me, what a mess! Guess I’ll have to turn her into one of my masterworks! But don’t worry, there’s lots of other people, like Mary’s son, Daniel! Isn’t that right, Daniel?”

The only sound was the crying of a young boy, which just enraged Eidolon and pressed him to more speed. 

“So, I wouldn’t try anything, Miss Militia. You tell Jack he can fuck right off. I’m not going back, or to the Bird Cage,” Bonesaw said, all the playfulness vanishing from her voice. “I’m going to Her. She called me. She LOVES me! I’ll have a real family, and no one can stop me! Not you, or anyone!”

Eidolon shared a look with Miss Militia as they flew, but she could only shrug helplessly. 

“We can bring the plane down. To stop her…it might be worth all those lives,” Hannah said quietly. “But if there’s any other option…”

“We’ll find it. Come on, first we need to get eyeballs on that plane. They’re still over an hour from the Russian border,” Eidolon said, and they zoomed off. 

Soon, they had eyes on the plane, but Eidolon was able to see inside with a few quick power selections, and it wasn’t good. There were fourteen horrors on that plane, including the one that Bonesaw was working on from the corpse of Mary Lewis, who she’d brutally murdered on the radio call. There were also 168 still living passengers aboard, along with the frightened crew. Bonesaw had gone back to crooning over the radio in Russian, while the plane continued on towards Russian Airspace. 

“Whatever happens, we can’t let the Tsaritsa get her hands on Bonesaw. It would be a disaster. If they get within 100 miles of the border, we bring it down. Even if it means everyone on that plane dies,” Eidolon said quietly.

Miss Militia nodded, though from her posture Eidolon could tell she felt as sick as he did at the thought. But the prospect of the Tsaritsa having her hands on a bio-tinker of that caliber…it was a worst-case scenario. 

The choice, however, was taken out of their hands 200 miles from the border, when a fiery demon rose up out of the Alaskan wilderness and attacked the both of them. 

“HARBINGER!” Eidolon roared, moving to intercept as Miss Militia opened fire on the plane. Before her bullets could strike, a bubble surrounded the plane, and a figure dressed in an ornate costume alighted on the top of the plane. 

The Dancer and the Servant. Here, in the United States. This was an act of war. An incredibly blatant one. 

I am afraid that dearest Riley has received a casting call. She is wanted in Moscow. And you shall not interfere, the Dancer’s voice echoed in Eidolon’s mind, even as he grappled with the snarling demon they called Servant. 

“You came for me!” Bonesaw’s voice squealed over the radio. “You really came for me! You do love me!” 

Of course, dear one. You shall be my beloved Little Sister. The Tsarista eagerly awaits you. Now, return to me, my Beloved Servant. We must away.

“NO!” Eidolon raged, even as the Servant summoned a burning shield and slipped away from his grasp. A blizzard, even greater than the one they’d escaped at the airport, blew up around them. 

WHY, PHANTOM OF THE MASK. HAVE YOU COME TO SERVE ME AS WELL? 

“NO!” Eidolon screamed his defiance into the wind. “NEVER!” 

TSK. TSK. SOON. SOON, YOU WILL BE BEREFT OF ALL OTHER LOVE. ALL OTHER POWER. WHEN THAT DAY COMES, KNOW THAT I SHALL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. AND THE POWER THAT AWAITS YOU IS LIKE NOTHING YOU HAVE EVER WIELDED BEFORE.

The storm protected the airplane all the way into Russian Airspace. Eidolon got on the horn with Alexandria, demanding to be allowed to pursue and shoot it down. 

“No. We’re not ready. Not yet. But we will be. Be patient,” she told him, her tones frosty. “Come in. We need to debrief on these new powers the Tsaritsa is displaying.”

“Fuck off!” Hannah shouted. “Becky, we HAD her! They’re getting away! This is an act of war! We have to respond!” 

“Miss Militia! You WILL follow orders, and you WILL return to base. We won’t forget this. We won’t forgive. But we will strike at the time and place of our choosing! Not theirs!” Alexandria snapped. 

“Yes ma’am,” Hannah grumbled, and Eidolon reluctantly echoed her. 

For now, Eidolon just felt like he was still trapped in that damned wheelchair as the Tsaritsa’s words echoed in his ears. 

Author’s Note:

It’s time. 

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 9

Superbia Hominum 9: Clinging in the Darkness

The first time Bronya had seen the body of a dead god, it had been with her mother. They had traveled to the far north, to where a great mountain of black ice lay. When she had beheld it, she had seen the body of a great bear, it’s maw bisected by a spear of white ice. 

“That was the God of Glaciers, Maritimus. He and I fought for the throne of the Cryo Archon many long centuries ago,” Cocolia had told her as they looked up upon the fallen deity. “He would have covered all the lands in ice. He was very strong, and nearly inexorable. He did not think that the God of Love could triumph over him. Many had tried and failed before.”

“So, your love melted his glacier?” Bronya had asked curiously.

Her mother had smiled sadly at her. “No. Love can be a cold, cruel thing Bronya. He killed a friend of mine. Alisa Rand. She was…dear…to me. My wrath when Maritimus slew her was not a fiery thing. It took more than a century for my revenge to be fulfilled. When it was, however, it left me as cold and empty as ever.”

“So. Take your time with revenge, and it will be yours,” Bronya had mused. 

Her mother looked pained. “That is…not the lesson I would have you gain from this. Revenge will leave you cold and empty, Bronya. But love will fill your heart. Now. Let me show you why I have brought you here.”

They had gone down to the corpse, battling demons that had arisen from the black blood that still flowed out of the fatal wound. Then, they had collected some of the blood from the source, and her mother had shown Bronya how to craft it.

“Dark days are ahead. We will need a mighty armory to withstand the storm that comes,” Cocolia had warned as she shaped the blood of the dead into weapons for the living. 

There had been a lesson in that. Alive, your enemies were a thorn in your side. But dead, they could be a brand in your hand. 

And Bronya was ready to turn her latest acquisition into just such weapons. 

The next dead god Bronya had seen had been her own mother. Her corpse had become nothing but ash in the judgment of Celestia. But that ash had become the core of Commedia Dell'arte. Bronya carried the corpse of her mother everywhere with her. 

After all. Nothing could stand in the way of her revenge. 

Now she stood in Belobog, her hidden fortress of ice. It floated amidst the void, the trapped memories of the past shaped in Bronya’s own image. Its myriad halls were a collection of frozen moments from Bronya’s time as a mortal before her unwilling apotheosis. Now, at its heart, fested the corpse of the Dead God of the Cycle. Eden.

Bronya’s new armory. 

It didn’t take much to form the corpse of the dead god into Delusions. There was so much potential within them. Other items could, of course, be used to make a Delusion or even just a sufficient amount of elemental energy. But the most potent of them came from the corpse of a dead god. Visions were Ambitions of mortal minds. 

Delusions were the Despair of the Gods. 

Endlessly, Bronya wove her Delusions, infusing them with her bittersweet memories and painful regrets. She had a fertile new crop to add: Her embarrassing defeat at the ands of the Demonic Twins and even more galling, her rescue at the hands of those impudent Yankees. 

Her rage became Pyro. Helplessness condensed into Anemo. Hydro was formed from regret. Geo from her broken vows. From her folly grew Dendro. Electro sparked from ennui. And of course, from cold indifference, Cryo seeped. 

All seven elements. Delusions, to spread to her soldiers. To empower them. To make them players upon her stage, that one day, the crescendo of this story that was her completed revenge would take place. And she would stand alone and take her final bow upon the stage. 

“M-mother? Are…are you well?”

Bronya blinked, and stirred herself from where she had collapsed upon her chair. A stack of delusions was scattered on the table before her. She glanced at her reflection in a sheet of ice, and grimaced. She was pale and wan, the toxic energy of the dead god having sent black veins growing from her eyes. 

She purged herself and straightened in her seat. “I am well, Kollei. Your concern is touching, but unneeded. This is what must be. Now. What did you come to see me for?”

Her ward still looked uncertain, but Kollei swallowed and straightened her back. “I am…I am here about the annexation of Ukraine. Mother…is…is this wise? Many nations are increasingly upset, and what support we had internationally…it evaporated with the American’s goodwill.”

“What care we what the mortal nations say? They can do nothing to oppose me,” Bronya scoffed. As if the American fools or the petty states of Europe mattered a wit.

“But…it’s not the mortal nations,” Kollei protested, her face going red. “Japan has signed the formal condemnation, with Dalnim Raiden appearing to state that her mother opposes this action! A-and the proposal, it was put forth by the Knights of Favonius, and everyone knows they serve-”

Kollei cut off abruptly as the room flashed to sheer ice, and cold fury wrapped itself about Bronya so firmly that three Pyro Delusions formed in her hands. “Do. Not. Speak. His. Name.”

“No! Why do you hate Venti!? You’ve never told me anything!” Kollei said in sheer frustration.

She defied Bronya, but since Kollei had used the pathetic mortal disguise that Barbatos employed, Bronya didn’t hurl her sword at her adopted and very foolish daughter. She hissed out a breath, storming over to roughly grab Kollei by the face and twist her gaze to meet Bronya’s own. 

“That wretched wind spirit betrayed me. When my mother needed him most, he abandoned her to die. At least the Raiden Shogun fought to the bitter end until she lay dead on the field with Rukkhadevata and Elgeria! Barbatos abandoned me after he swore that he would keep me and my mother safe. He pretended to be our friend and in the end he was full of nothing but lies!  He left us to die and one day I will stand over his ruined corpse and gloat!”

Broyna realized she was screaming, and that she was panting heavily. The manufacture of Delusions always did influence her mood. Kollei was leaning back against the frozen wall, with Bronya having shoved her back in her rant. She let go of Kollei’s face and turned away, hugging herself. 

“I…apologize. I did not mean…for you to see me in such a state. Those old memories…are very bitter.”

There was a heavy silence, then Bronya caught her breath as warm hands wrapped around her from behind. “I…I understand what it is to lose your parents. And to…hate. If I could kill the Behemoth…I would. And every murdering son of a bitch who nuked Old Moscow.”

Bronya turned around, tears staining her face as she wrapped her own arms about Kollei. “Hatred and Love are two sides of the same coin. Nurture your love, daughter. But do not let go of your hatred. It is how you keep the ones you love alive.”

“I…I will try. But mother…what is your plan for Ukraine? For Russia? I…I know Scion is evil, and he has to be stopped, but…why?”

The Tsaritsa considered this. She had not fully explained her plans, feeling little need to do so. “Scion is a Descender. He is of another world and seeks to rule over this one. I do not fully understand his Cycle, but one does not need to be an oracle to see he is treating humanity as his kine. He intends something foul, and I suspect his cruel reign over mankind is but the first step.”

“Kine…kine means…?” Kollei blushed, her eyes darting back and forth. The child was darling, sometimes. For one who had been an uneducated peasant not a year gone, she had come remarkably far. 

“Livestock. He intends to use humanity as food. Perhaps in the literal sense, perhaps as fuel for some dark ritual he seeks to undertake. It matters not. My people would not survive the experience,”  Bronya said bluntly. 

“That’s…that’s horrible!” Kollei gasped, the blood draining from her face. “You mean he seeks to destroy the world?!”

“Or close enough not to matter. I am no Astrologer, but I can see the shades of Fate to come as well as any god. The Flows of Fate itself end less than five hundred years from now, and it is the Sustainer who snips them. If he is not stopped, this world will be destroyed,” Bronya said, and she shivered slightly as she did so. Not even Celestia’s cruel tyranny had been so diabolical as what the Sustainer’s Cycle brought. 

“That’s…that’s a lot to think about,” Kollei said, sitting down heavily in Bronya’s chair. She didn’t mind, even without asking for permission. They were in private, and well… Bronya was becoming fond of the girl beyond her being a simple vessel to continue her revenge should the worst happen.

She went over, wrapping her arms about Kollei’s neck again and kissing her gently on the cheek. “It is why we must be willing to do anything to protect those we love. Even become tyrants. After all, am I not the divine Mother of all the Russias? Ukraine is but one of our wayward children. All must be gathered in, that I may protect them from both themselves and from the Sustainer’s cruel intentions.”

“Is it better to be free…or to be safe?” Kollei whispered softly.

Bronya stiffened. That turn of phrase was all too familiar. “Where did you hear that?” she demanded icily. 

The girl shook her head. “It’s a proverb. I think…I think it’s better if everyone is safe. Don’t you? If they’re just free…then they’ll die. The Endbringers, Scion, rogue parahumans…they’ll be killed. So…if we love them…we have to protect them.”

Cold warmth flooded Bronya, and she smiled, stroking Kollei’s hair as she practically purred. “Yes, my daughter. You understand. Conquer them we shall. But only for their own good.”

“Yes…I…I guess you’re right. No, you are right! You’re a god, a-and my mother!” Kollei stood, kissing her mother on the cheek and smiling, though she looked pained. “I…I’ll go tell the Harbingers. Where…where do we march first?”

“As soon as all of Ukraine bends the knee…” Bronya turned towards a desk where she’d hung a globe made of ice. She spun it to the place she had looked for, and gently stroked the object of her affections. 

“Poland. Those children shall be gathered in next.”

“Yes, of course, Mother. Poland has  a long history as subjects of the Tsars,” Kollei agreed, then hesitated. “Will…will we try diplomacy first?”

“Make overtures. But do not try my patience. These so-called Poles will learn that all Slavic nations will return to Mother Russia. And I, as the god of the Russias, shall be theirs as well,” the Tsaritsa ordered. 

Kollei left, and the Tsaritsa turned back to her task of manufacturing delusions. She could not afford to be Bronya, the weak, simple, mortal girl. She must be the queen of ice. The Tsaritsa. And all would bow before her throne of love.

Grunting, Eidolon forced himself to do just one more rep, straining to lift the bar as he did so. He could feel his power calling to him, but he ignored it. Not only were there precious few vials he could take left, but it defeated the purpose of exercise if you cheated and used powers. Sure, he could use Brute powers to just make himself stronger, but if the base material was weak, then what he built with his powers would be weak as well. 

The bar slipped as he tried to replace it, and a hand reached out, steading the bar and helping him set it back into place. “Thanks,” Eidolon gasped, flopping back down in exhaustion.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Hannah said, handing him his workout mix. Well, he called it that. It was mostly lime Gatorade. As bad as that stuff was, he loved the flavor. He remembered drinking it in Boy Scouts, back when he’d been confined to a wheelchair. Still, Camp Geronimo had been fairly handicap accessible, and he’d really enjoyed spending time in the woods with his troop. The Gatorade brought back memories of a time when he’d sat with his friends around a campfire, enjoying life. 

It reminded him of weakness. Weakness he had to purge. He had to be Worthy. 

“I have to. You’ve seen too,” David grunted, taking a sip and swishing the sweet mixture around his mouth. He swallowed and grimaced. “They’re getting stronger. Weirder. And now, they’re coming two at a time.”

Hannah sat down on the bench across from him, and Eidolon tried not to admire her too openly. Her dark skin was near flawless, and she was wearing just a sports bra and boxing shorts, her toned muscles clearly visible. Her silk dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, which was a style that looked incredible on any woman, but especially her. 

“They are. Weirder is one word for it. David…the others are talking. I don’t know what to tell them. Hell, I don’t know what I believe. Why…why are they referring to you as Father?” 

Eidolon’s shoulder’s slumped. He glanced about, but they had this corner of the gym to themselves, a couple of PRT troopers jogging on treadmills with headphones on while a couple of capes used rowing machines a few rows down, though they didn’t have Thinker or Stranger powers. They were at the Houston Protectorate HQ gym, sharing a workout. It was…good. Good to have someone else there who challenged him.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe our Shards are related? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe they were modeled after me? This latest one certainly has an ability similar to mine. I recognized Narwhale and the Fairy Queen’s powers.”

Hannah nodded slowly. “It’s creepy. But I trust you. You know that, right?”

Eidolon felt a pang in his chest, but he nodded. “And I trust you, Hannah. More than anyone.”

“Good. Spot me?”

She worked out next, though with a much lower weight limit than Eidolon. While she had on Armory, she was many times stronger than the average cape, but without she was just a fit woman. Her newly unlocked powers gave her a new and very solid Brute rating of 6. More impressive was that her Blaster rating had gone from a respectable 5 to an excellent 8. The more exotic weapons Armory could call up now along with her high mobility that gave her Mover 4 made Miss Militia one of the strongest Brute/Blasters they had. Not quite as good as Legend, but still. 

Taking his turn to spot Hannah, Eidolon did his best not to openly ogle her. It was hard, as he had to keep an eye on the bar, but his eyes kept getting drawn to the rising and falling of her chest. He blushed, looking away.

To his mortification, Hannah chuckled. “I don’t mind if you look, you know.”

“I…It seemed ungentlemanly,” Eidolon admitted awkwardly. 

“David, if I didn’t want you to look at me, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my exercise partner and come all the way to Houston for my gym session,” she said, winking at him as she completed another rep.

“I mean…it is just a Door away,” he said, his eyes straying away again.

“True, but I could just work out with Keith. He never looks. Rather disappointing, actually,” Hannah laughed. “I worked hard for this.”

“You, uh, look good,” David said as the bar clinked down. 

“Yeah?” Hannah stood up, grinning up at David. She was a good four inches shorter than him, so she had to crane her neck as she stood right next to him. 

He inhaled, taking in her scent. She smelled like sweat, and a floral aroma his powers identified as Dove deodorant. Not anything fancy, but it was nice. He found himself grinning stupidly, and he mentally cursed himself. “Better than good. You’re beautiful.”

“Mhmm,” Hannah said. Then, with a cheeky smile, she reached down, taking her water bottle lid off and grabbing a couple of ice cubes. She then procdeeded to-

David coughed, jerking his head to the side as she quickly lifted her bra. A moment later, his eyes were drawn to…well. Apparently her body thought she was cold now.

“Don’t look away,” Hannah said, putting a hand on his chest that sent an electrical shock down his spine. “Come on, let’s do some sit-ups. Hold my legs for me.”

He did not, in fact, look away. He was right at eye level now, a dopey grin on his face as he counted forward.

On impulse, he suddenly leaned forward, putting his face right next to Hannah’s and pecking her on the lips right at ten. She was surprised, and for a moment, she thought she’d be mad. 

Then she grinned at him and continued. When she hit 20, he kissed her again. He was surprised when she lingered and poked her tongue into his mouth. He remembered Narwhale doing that. At the time, he’d found it off putting. Now, it was just alluring.

They didn’t make it to 100, as Hannah put an arm around his neck at 50, drawing him close. They kissed for a long moment, before she whispered, “Door me.”

Eidolon blinked, as a portal opened to a well lit apartment with a cozy looking couch and several bookshelves. 

“Come on. I have another exercise in mind,” Hannah told him, standing and leading him through.

For a moment, he hesitated. He was supposed to keep himself pure for marriage. He was the Messiah, God’s chosen warrior.

But he was tired. He was afraid. And right now, he so desperately wanted to not be alone. Even more than that, he desperately wanted this woman. God wouldn’t mind too much, right?

So, David followed Hannah through into her apartment, the portal snapping shut behind them. He thought about chiding her for an abuse of Doormaker, who’d barely escaped the Fatui a week ago. That thought just made him angry though. Anger he put into grabbing Hannah and pulling her to him, passionately kissing her, forcing his tongue into her mouth now. 

He felt hungry, and she seemed to as well. Their hands were all over one another until David found himself stripping her bra off as she pulled down his sweatpants. Then he was laying her down on the couch.

“David…wait,” she gasped, and he froze.

“I…” he licked his lips. They shouldn’t be doing this. They had a professional relationship. It was sin. And if she decided she hated him…

“This is embarrassing, but…” she bit her lip, blushing deeply, which was a bit ironic as they were both sweaty and naked and had been for nearly a minute now. “David…I…I’m a virgin.”

He blinked at her. Then he sat back and laughed. She covered herself, looking angry and flustered. “Look! There was never time! I just…I triggered early, and I was pretty fucked up, OK? And, well, fuck, most men are scared by a woman who’s stronger than them, and-”

“I’m a virgin too,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. She paused, her eyes going wide. 

“R-really?” she gasped. 

He nodded. This was so, so perfect. He’d thought, well, he’d thought she’d be more experienced than he was. Hell, both of them were in their 30s. “I dated a few women, but, well…I never worked out. Before I got my powers…I could barely even get an erection, I was so disabled. I had CP. Couldn’t even feel the lower half of my body. Spent all my time in a wheelchair. Girls wouldn’t even look at me.”

Slowly, Hannah lowered her arms. “Well, I don’t see that now. Both of us…well. I think we’re only alive because of our powers.”

David suddenly blanched. “Uh, Armory, he can’t-”

“He can, but I told him to mind his own business. He doesn’t even really get it, he’s so alien. Should, um-”

“It’s fine,” David said, caressing her gently. She shivered and pressed against him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And figure it out they did. Several times. It turned out that with the right cocktail of Brute powers, Eidolon didn’t really have a refractory period. They tried showering together after they thought they were done, but that just made more of a mess. In the end, they went to bed, and after another session, cuddled together.

“I think…I think I’m going to sleep tonight,” Hannah whispered into Eidolon’s chest as he stroked her hair. “I don’t usually, but…with you…maybe the dreams won’t be so bad.”

“Yeah. I could use a good night’s rest. Funny. I don’t need to sleep, but…”

“But it’s nice. Good night. I love you, David,” Hannah whispered.

Something caught in his throat, but he managed, “I love you too, Hannah.”

She was soon snoring softly against him, but now that his lust has passed, clarity came over David.

What had he done? He’d betrayed so much of what he was for a moment of weakness. 

There is no Love in your heart. Learn what it is to Love.

His jaw flexed. Damn the Tsaritsa. Her poisoned words came to him even here, now. 

No. She was a false god. He refused to believe. He hugged Hannah tightly, feeling himself stir again against her soft flesh. Yes. He would cling to this woman. He would love her. Not the Tsaritsa. Hannah could make him stronger. For her, he would be Worthy. 

He closed his eyes, and forced himself to sleep.

In his dreams, he saw a grinning bird woman, her amber eyes boring into his.

Took you long enough, Deadbeat. So, are you bringing my new mommy home? Fuck you. You unworthy piece of shit. You created us. You created all of us. Your sin did. First, you were too weak. Now, you’re too Lustful. You’ll never be worthy enough to save the world. 

I will! He screamed back at Ziz. I’ll be come stronger! Worthy!

Your powers are running out. You won’t even make it to the apocalypse. You should just give up and let the Archons save these pathetic humans. Nahida beat me, tamed me. You couldn’t even beat my brothers. Now my sisters are going to fuck you up good. 

No! I will triumph! I will be the Messiah!

Just give up. The Cycle will be complete. And you’ll be nothing but data, Deadbeat. 

“David! David! Are you alright?”

His eyes snapped open, and he found the concerned face of Hannah peering down at him. He was even sweatier than he’d been earlier, gasping for breath in tangled bed sheets. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. 

“Sorry. A nightmare. Ziz. The Simurgh. She’s still out there.”

Hannah hugged him tightly, and David felt…better. “I know. I have nightmares about Endbringer battles too. Madison was…”

“Horrific,” David whispered, remembering that abattoir.  He’d had to slaughter children, the elderly, all of them crazed and ripping each other and those who hadn’t been driven mad apart with glee as the burned that city to the ground.

“She will pay. She doesn’t get off just because Nahida did something to her. I don’t trust the Dendro Archon. She keeps too many pet monsters,” Hannah said bitterly. “Fuck Farasha. Fuck the Simurgh. Kusinali is hiding something. All those fucking Archons are. They’re all snakes.”

Eidolon nodded slowly. “They’re just another kind of Entity in the end.”

“Yeah. Fuck ‘em. Now, fuck me, so we can both get back to sleep without nightmares,” Hannah ordered, straddling Eidolon.

This time what they did was more beastial and carnal. They ended up breaking the bed and smashing several pieces of furniture, before curling up exhausted in a pile of blankets on the floor and passing out. It had been almost like fighting this time, like they were both trying to exorcise their demons. 

Somehow, David knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Dark Legend of Potter Chapter 69

It was only two weeks to the Christmas Holidays, which meant that it was time for Ginny to finally prove herself. She tried to project an air of confidence and nonchalance as she strode towards the quidditch pitch, broom on her shoulders, her minions flanking her. She could do this. She had trained her entire life for this. They could win. 

She nearly missed a step, however, when she spied the last people in the world she wanted to see waiting for her. Her brothers. All six of them. And her mum and dad. She felt her hackles rise, and she gritted her teeth. Just because she wasn’t playing for stupid Gryffindor didn’t mean they all had to come out to mock her! She would show them she would show-

“There she is, unfurl the banner!” Fred (or possibly George, it was hard to tell at this distance), cried, and with a snap, a giant flag that was a picture of a giant snake with a red-headed woman garbed in armor and bearing a sword was riding that said “GO SLYTHERIN” on it. 

It was then that Ginny noticed that her entire family were wearing green jumpers with her picture on them. At that point, it was a fight to decide if she should cry for joy or find a hole in the ground to crawl into out of sheer embarrassment. She was 12, after all. It’s a rough time for everyone then. 

“Hey look, it’s our families!” Draco said brightly, pointing. “Hey, Gertie! I told you I would make the team! Where’s mum and dad!”

The ever-stoic Gertrude managed a small smile. “Couldn’t make it, but I’m here. Wouldn’t miss my little brother’s first game.” 

She gave Dust a big hug, while Ginny tried to hide from her family who were waving and cheering raucously, while Lucius and Narcissa smiled and shook hands with Draco and Kazuma, much to both of their embarrassments. 

“Hey, Mr. Weasley! Cool banner!” Dust said, trotting off after the hug, and leaving Ginny standing next to Gertrude.

“He’s a good boy, Dust,” Gertrude commented to Ginny. “Dim. But good.”

“Uh, yeah. Great Beater,” Ginny said, still torn between mortification and delight. 

“I love my brother. He’s the only good thing my family has ever produced,” Gertrude continued, which caused Ginny to eye her sideways. “So believe me when I say this: if you lead him astray, Ginevra Weasely, I know every single one of the Unforgivables. And I will test them all on you if you harm my wonderful idiot of a brother. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Ginny said, feeling slightly dizzy now. This was a lot closer to the reaction she’d been expecting from her family. 

“Excellent. Good luck with your game, I’ll be rooting for you,” Gertrude said, then turned and headed for the stands. 

That did mean there was nothing else shielding Ginny, so her family swarmed her. 

“Atta girl! I knew there was another quidditch genius in the family!” Charlie said, picking Ginny up and making her squeak as he spun her around.

“Um, Ron’s on the Gryffindor team,” Ginny pointed out. 

“Yeah, but he’s not as cute as you are,” Charlie said with a wink as he set Ginny down in a flustered mess. 

“We’re so proud of you, Ginny. Good luck,” her mother said, giving her a big hug. 

“And that’ll be true no matter what happens,” her father said with a wink. “That said, give those ‘Puffs hell.” 

Ginny eyed Ron sideways, but her youngest brother just grinned and punched her in the upper arm. Lightly, but he was still an arse for doing it. “So long as we’re not flying against one another, I’ll be rooting for you. You’d just do the same for me.”

“Of course,” Ginny muttered, though her mind went to the Quidditch Cup, which she absolutely refused to lose to Ron or anyone else. 

“The banner was our idea!” Fred said brightly, and George nodded. 

“We knew it would irritate you dreadfully, so of course, we just had to.”

“Wankers,” Ginny muttered, but gave them a hug anyway. 

After that, Ginny scrubbed her face, then rounded on her team. “Right, you ugly lot! Get your head into the game, and get to the lockers! We’ve got a game to win!” 

Once in the lockers, Ginny changed into her quidditch robes, then took a deep breath, steadying herself. She headed back outside, looking over her team. Flint leered at her, leaning up against the corner of the locker room with his arms folded over his chest. He’d be a challenge, but Ginny could manage. Kazuma was goofing off with Dust, while Draco looked a cross between annoyed and trying not to laugh at Kazuma’s off-color humor. They were her core three. Graham and Lucian were good. Better than good, really. They had the potential to go pro if only they’d apply themselves. 

Taking a deep breath, Ginny jumped up on one of the benches and looked around. “I’m not going to give you any inspiring speeches. That corny bollocks never appealed to me anyway. No, what I have is an order. Are you listening?”

The boy’s heads nodded, and Ginny gave them a feral grin.

“I want you to fucking murder those ‘Puffs. Destroy them. Kazuma!”

“Yes ma’am!” 

“Don’t catch the Snitch until we’re at least 200 points ahead! None of this catching it in the first five minutes, understand? Your job is to keep Diggory off it as well.”

“Uh, fine. Sheesh, and I wanted some free time later,” Kazuma groused. 

“Flint!” 

“Yeah?” The former captain gave Ginny a hooded look. 

“I’ve got 10 galleons here. For each hoop they take, I’m taking one away. Understand?” 

A slow grin spread over Flint’s face. “Well, now you’re speaking my language. I’ll want all 10 at the end.”

“Lucian, Dust, for each Puff you send to the infirmary, that’s five galleons.”

Lucian chuckled evilly, while Dust looked concerned. “But if we did that, they’d be really hurt. Doesn’t seem sporting.”

“It’s in the rules, Dust. It’s perfectly sporting. Besides, it builds character,” Ginny told him seriously.

“Oh, all right then!” Dust agreed, nodding as if that explained everything. 

“And Graham, if you can score more hoops and assists than me, I’ll give you 20 galleons.”

“More than you, captain? Payday’s as good as mine,” Graham scoffed. 

Ginny vowed he would get no payday from her, though she also wouldn’t be shy about passing if the need arose. 

“NOW LET’S DESTROY THEM!” Ginny snarled, raising her precious Firebolt, which she had named Nikke, over her head. “SLYTHERIN!” 

“SLYTHERIN!” the team roared and charged out of the lockers and onto the pitch. 

“-and the final score is 720-30 Slytherin!! What an incredible game, folks! That was the most brutal slaughter I’ve seen since I watched Yunyun and Megumin kill a dozen giant toads! And much like the Crimson Demons, these Slytherins have left no survivors!” Lee Jordan’s voice boomed as Ginny flew her broom over to the dazed looking Cedric Diggory, and offered her hand. 

“Good game,” she said. 

“I suppose it was, for you. Rather poor showing for us,” Diggory said with a shake of his head. Then he shook Ginny’s hand. “Bloody hell. I didn’t think you’d make it easy for us, but that was devastating. I know who I’m betting on to win the Quidditch Cup.” 

Ginny descended on her broom towards the pitch, where she was met with a mad rush of Slytherins, who lifted her onto their shoulders. Someone, who sounded an awful lot like her two idiot twin brothers, began to sing, 

God save our gracious Queen,

Ginny’s our Quidditch Queen,

Long may she reign!

Send her victorious,

Happy and Glorious,

Long to reign over us;

Ginny’s the Queen! 

There were several verses after that, but all that mattered was that she’d won, and done so in grand style. It was like a dream come true. Even Professor Snape gave her a smug grin, while Professor Sprout had to dry her tears and give Ginny a pained smile. 

For a few brief hours, Ginny was deliriously happy. Everything was going right. She was plied with sweets and butterbeer in the Slytherin Dorms, while people jawed on and on about the brilliant plays and maneuvers she’d led her team through. At last, she was special. Not because she was “the girl” or because she was “the Slytherin” but because of something she’d done. It was her skills, her talent, her brains. Finally, she stood out.

She went to bed that night with a smile on her lips, and a song in her heart. 

And then reality caught up to her the next morning when she was skipping to breakfast, only to be grabbed and dragged back to the dungeon by a pale-faced Kazuma and Draco, along with Dust, who was sporting a black eye. 

“What’s the problem? Did the ‘Puffs get so sore they gave you the business? We’ll show them what for!” Ginny vowed as they dragged her down the stairs. She was on top of the world, nothing could stop her now!

“No, it was a group of Ravenclaws, who are furious because we’re leading in the House Cup now!” Kazuma hissed.

Ginny blinked. “What?”

“They’re a bit sore, seeing as they’ve been paying us to lose all those points and gain them some. Well, it seems they find your sudden and overwhelming victory to be something of a renigging on our agreements,” Draco panted. 

Her mind catching up with the situation, Ginny’s mouth opened in a small “O.” Seven hundred and twenty points would put Slytherin at the top of the rankings for the House Cup. Despite all the hundreds of points they’d lost and even more hundreds they’d helped other houses gain, it seemed the Slytherins were so damn good, that they’d managed to pull ahead of absolutely everyone in the rankings. 

“Oh bloody buggering hell,” Ginny groaned as they piled back into the common room. “What do we do!?”

“I’m going to have to try to figure out an angle. But basically, we need to find a way to lose a lot of points, fast,” Kazuma whispered, looking around frantically. “Because until we do, not only will we not get any more customers-”

“You would worry about that most at a time like this,” Draco huffed. 

“Shaddup! Look, our hides are on the line! And if word gets out to the Professors about what we’ve been doing, we are-”

“And what, pray tell, Mr. Crabbe, have you been doing?” Snape asked, looming up behind the four fools. 

They all slowly turned, giving Snape their most innocent of smiles. Ginny had high hopes for her smile, as it nearly always got her out of trouble with her father.

But never her mother for some reason. 

That reason being that Molly Weasely was a good deal like her daughter and knew exactly how innocent she was based off of her own experience growing up. 

“Planning new Quidditch strategies, sir. We wouldn’t want anyone else to find out because if they did, we’d never pull off a win like that again,” Kazuma said with as straight a face as he could manage. 

Snape considered that, then gave them a slow nod. “See that you do. I made out quite handily after that game. And I won’t have to suffer Sprouts insufferable quips whenever her team beats mine for the rest of the year. Good work, Weasley.”

With that, Snape glided off out of the common room, leaving all four of the miscreants to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“We’ve got to act fast. What’s the best way to lose a lot of points quickly?” Ginny demanded. 

“Bring in more Flying Monkeys?” Dust suggested. “We lost a lot of points on that one.”

Draco and Kazuma looked at Dust like he was an idiot, but Ginny was thoughtful. “No, no. He’s got a point. That was the most points we ever lost in one go. We need a stunt like that to show we’re acting in good faith. But how?”

“If only we could cast Explosion like Megumin. She loses loads of points every time she does it,” Dust said mournfully. 

Kazuma and Draco looked at their companion in abject horror, but Ginny clapped her hands and grinned. “Dust, you’re a genius! That’s EXACTLY what we’ll do! And we’ll use the flying monkeys to do it!” 

“G-Ginny. Be reasonable! None of us even know how to cast Explosion!” Draco stammered, his face even paler than it had been. 

“Uh, not that I have anything against us cheating the system, but how the hell are we even going to do that?” Kazuma said, scratching his head. 

Ginny grinned. This was exactly why these dunderheads needed her to be in charge. “It’s like this, see…”

Herbology was easily Yunyun’s favorite class, even if she didn’t have it with Megumin this year. Actually, it was perhaps especially her favorite because she didn’t have it with Megumin this year. As much as Yunyun loved her sister, being around Megumin could sometimes be a little taxing. 

Plus, whenever Megumin was around, all the plants became very stressed and didn’t grow as well, no matter how much Yunyun reassured them. 

Yunyun had not noticed that this was true of her classmates, several of the more timid of which had developed nervous twitches whenever Megumin was within eyesight. This just proved how irrational fear is, because really they should have been much more concerned when Megumin wasn’t within eyesight. That was when the real trouble began. 

“Good morning,” Yunyun said to her patch of dittany. “How are we all feeling today?”

The plants eagerly greeted Yunyun, and being great gossips, eagerly told Yunyun all about the various goings on in the garden. Smiling, Yunyun nodded and made appropriate noises as she heard about the scandalous affair between the petunias and snapdragons, when the plants said something very odd. 

“Bananas?” she said, turning towards a corner of the garden where sure enough, several banana trees had sprouted. “When did we get bananas?”

“Hmm, what’s that dear?” Professor Sprout said, looking up from helping one of the other students with their own pot of dittany. The plants weren’t hard to care for, but they were so important in so many potions that a steady supply was always needed. 

“When did we start growing bananas, professor?” Yunyun repeated, gesturing to the banana trees. 

“Well, I can’t say that I recall planting them. Who do you suppose…?” Sprout said, going over to inspect the trees. “Why, these are just common banana trees! But how did they grow in this cold?”

Yunyun went over to inspect the trees, noting the freshly churned earth. “Someone’s planted them right over the Mimbulus mimbletonia! But it doesn’t even smell, who could have…? Please, Mr. Banana tree, who planted you?”

The banana tree promptly informed Yunyun that it was not a banana tree, or rather, it hadn’t been one until very recently. Instead, it had been the Mimbulus mimbletonia, having been transfigured into banana trees only an hour or so ago.

“He says he is the Mimbulus mimbletonia, but he’s been transfigured,” Yunyun explained. 

“Who could have done that, and why bananas?” Sprout said, sounding as perplexed as Yunyun was. 

It was then that they heard a distant, screeching cry, and everyone froze. 

“Oh no!” Yunyun groaned. “Please don’t tell me…”

“Ha! You’ve fallen into our trap, Lampuffs!” Ginny Weasley’s voice declared, and she along with her three minions appeared at the edge of the herbology garden. “This will seal our victory, and forever prove Slytherin Superiority!” 

“Ginny, dear, I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Sprout said, wringing her hands. “If the flying monkeys catch scent of the bananas, they’ll destroy my entire classroom!”

“Pff, that won’t happen,” Kazuma scoffed. “The transfiguration will wear off in a few minutes. We just wanted you to all know you’re a bunch of fruits.”

“No, I really think that-”

“OOK OOK OOK!” 

A squad of flying monkeys flapped over the garden wall, making straight for the banana trees. Yunyun knew from experience they’d ravage everything and start flinging dung at anyone close to them, so she did what to her was the only reasonable thing possible.

“BEHOLD! I AM YUNYUN! FOREMOST GARDENER OF THE CRIMSON DEMON CLAN, AND SHE WHO WILL DEFEND HER FLORAL FRIENDS!”

“YUNYUN! DEAR, NOW ISN’T THE TIME TO-” Sprout began, but it was too late. 

Eyes aglow, Yunyun held up one hand. “CRIMSON LASER!”

A beam of scarlet death flashed out, obliterating the flying monkeys. And a good chunk of the wall. 

“OOK OOK OOK!” 

With a warbling battle cry, more flying monkeys descended, having been lured there by a trail of bananas conveniently left out for them. 

“LIGHT OF SABER! ENERGY IGNITION! CURSED LIGHTNING!” 

A technicolor display of destruction and death lit up the sky as dozens of monkeys were reduced to nought but ashes by Yunyun’s spells. Along with the Greenhouse roof, most of the wall, and one pillar, which caused part of the south wing to collapse. 

“WHO ELSE DARES DISTURB MY GARDEN!?” Yunyun raged, but the monkeys were silent. Mostly on account of them all being very dead. 

Beaming with pride, Yunyun turned to professor sprout and her cowering housemates. “I did it, Professor! I saved the garden!”

“That’s nice, dear,” Sprout said. Then she rounded on the four cowering Slytherins, her nostrils flaring. “YOU COMPLETE NINCOMPOOPS! DON’T YOU KNOW BETTER!? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Our fault?! She’s the one who blew everything up!” Kazuma protested. 

“Very heroically,” Draco hastily added. 

“She was protecting her housemates and the garden. YOU IDIOTS THOUGHT THIS WAS A PRANK?! I’LL SHOW YOU A PRANK! ONE HUNDRED POINTS! EACH! AND A WEEK OF DETENTIONS REPAIRING THIS! BY HAND!”

Yunyun deflated slightly, realizing that she had kinda sorta absolutely blown everything to teeny tiny pieces. “Um, s-sorry, professor. Um, I’ll serve detention, too…”

“No you won’t, dearie. These…children…need to learn the consequences of their own actions. They’re just lucky you’re not your cousin, or they’d have been fried too,” Sprout said, trying to smooth her frazzled hair back into a bun. 

The four Slytherins managed to look contrite, as Sprout hauled them off.

Yunyun, however, noticed that Kazuma and Ginny high fived one another, while Draco was smirking like they’d just won as soon as Sprout’s back was turned. What on Earth was going on?

Shrugging, she turned back to her dittany to reassure them and the other plants, as well as undo the transfiguration. 

Some people had no respect for peace and tranquility. 

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 8

Superbia Hominum 8: The Lust of the Flesh

This is CNN. I’m Tom Brokaw, and this is 270 to Win. All across the nation today, Americans head to the polls to choose our next president. The battleground states to watch are Ohio, Florida, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. Currently, polls favor Mrs. Rebecca Costa-Brown, former head of the Protectorate and famed cape Alexandria, over Maryland Governor Alan Keyes. We turn now to CNN’s resident Thinker and political analyst, Mrs. Tianna Brown. 

Alexandria looked away from the television screen, trying to project calm assurance. She had this in the bag. The election itself was barely even a formality at this point. Contessa told her that she’d do an LBJ vs Goldwater, except she’d get Arizona and lose Maryland. It was still nerve-racking. 

“I’d tell you to relax, but I know it doesn’t work. My re-election was a slam dunk, but I was still biting my nails in the bathroom,” Governor Dainson chuckled from his seat in an armchair across from her. “It’s early hours yet. Too soon for any real results to come in.”

“I know,” Alexandria sighed, taking a deep breath. “But I’ve got to get out there and take the stage again, just like you. I’m more used to taking to the battlefield in a different way.”

“Like that?” Dainson asked, nodding to the TV. They were playing digital footage that was a “reenactment” of Alexandria fighting alongside the Tsaritsa against the newest Endbringers: the Twins. 

“It was a far bit bloodier,” Alexandria said with a grimace. There had been little footage to come out of Kyiv of the battle, largely because it had been the deadliest in years, surpassing even Madison’s staggering death toll of over 100,000, and edging into Davao territory of well over half a million. The Twins were shaping up to be even more terrifying than the Simurgh, and she was checked by Kusinali. Perhaps the Protectorate could work with the Tsaritsa to find a counter to these newest Endbringers, so the situation wasn’t as hopeless as it had been before 1999. 

“A grim reminder that even Archons aren’t invincible,” Dainson agreed. “From what you’ve said, you saved her bacon.”

“She was holding her own, but going two-on-one against Endbringers is apparently a bridge too far even for Archons,” Alexandria agreed. “It seems to be playing well in the polls though.”

“If you don’t win with at least 60% of the vote, I’ll eat my hat,” Dainson laughed. “What do your Thinker friends say?”

“That your hat is probably safe, but that’s something not even they know for certain,” Alexandria said with a small smile. 

Dainson stood, shaking his head. “Even the odd one with the fedora and the Magic 8 Ball? What was her name again?”

“Classified, but once you take office I’ll be sure to read you in,” Alexandria assured him, standing herself. “I’m off to Miami to hold a rally. I’m not Cuban, but the Cuban voters there seem to approve of a Latina candidate, so I’m going to take a last tour to try to win them over.”

“Which suit will you be wearing, out of curiosity?” Dainson asked, raising a bushy grey eyebrow. 

“The one the people want to see,” Alexandria told him with a wink, then stepped over to the window and jumped out. 

It was a quick flight for her from her campaign’s headquarters in Los Angeles to Miami. She was even a little early, so she stopped over in Columbus at a nice little coffee shop and got a drink, taking a moment to chat with prospective voters and taking a few selfies before taking off again. She landed on the stage in Miami right on schedule to thunderous cheers and applause. She shook hands with a couple of local capes who supported her campaign as well as Representative Margolis, who was campaigning for reelection to the House, before taking the podium. 

She was wearing a woman’s suit and pants, though she had worn her classic helmet when she landed. Her Cyro Vision was around her neck as an amulet, and she grinned at the cameras. “Good morning, Miami! I’d say it’s chilly today, but I might hurt the feelings of our friends up in New England.” 

That got her some chucks, and she smiled into the cameras. “Today, we have a chance to reclaim the future of America. The world has changed dramatically since 1999, when the first Visions began to appear. That year also gave us something we hadn’t had in a long time: Hope. Hope that humanity wouldn’t go quietly or otherwise into that good night. That our light would shine bright! But I’m here to tell you that our light doesn’t need to be in the hands of Archons or Foreign Powers. That we, the people of the United States, must once more become the leaders of the free world.”

“All across the world, people are coming under authoritarian regimes. Democracy is under siege as dictators and parahuman strongmen along with Archons take the reigns of power. Yes, some of them are benevolent, but that doesn’t change that change is coming under an iron heel of those with powers.”

“Some of you might say, ‘isn’t that what you’re doing?’ Perhaps. But what I want to do is to democratize powers. You’ve already heard about my Case 53 initiative, where the United States continues research into the large-scale production of those with parahuman powers, allowing us to ensure that the people of the United States, not some foreign Archon or an Endbringer, determine our own fate. Vote for me today, and I can assure you, I won’t be the only Alexandria. Powers will become available to patriots who are willing to put America first, and to step forward to safeguard this nation and her people.”

 “My opponent has spoken of curtailing these programs. Of reining in the Protectorate, and the PRT. Of ‘returning to normal.’ I say there is no going back. Only forward. America will become the nation that all others look to, even those without an Archon, as the bastion of liberty and democracy and the champion of mankind, leading the world forward into a brighter future.”

“We will be that shining city on the hill! We will be that nation that the huddled masses yearning to breathe free cling to and come to! We will end decades-old animosities, like the US embargo of Cuba. The world has moved on from old rivalries and grudges. Now is the time for mankind to join hands and declare that we will not be defeated! We will not be cowed! And we will not go into that good night, quietly or otherwise!” 

More cheers and shouts, and Alexandria grinned, waving to the crowd. She could almost see it. Almost see a future where they were free of the threat of extinction. Where the Endbringers were contained or destroyed, where the Archons worked hand in hand with Cauldron, where Scion and his Shards were killed and made to serve humanity. 

That future was this close. 

But it was about to be stolen. 

Stalking through the ranks, Anatoly glanced up at the head of the massive underground chamber. They didn’t look like what he considered to be ‘portals,’ but then again, much of how he had thought the world should work turned out to be false. If portals were simple wooden bridge heads with some funny scribbles on the arches that overhung them, who was he to say otherwise? He ascended the platform, where Kollei and the Tsaritsa were standing with the other Harbingers. Including his damnable sister and her pet lover. Gods but she was so beautiful right now.

“My men are ready, your Majesty,” he said, falling to one knee before the Tsaritsa. 

“Excellent. The Bifrost Bridge is complete. With the beacon you planted, it was not difficult to locate this other world where the body of the dead god is hidden,” the Tsaritsa said with a nod. “All is prepared. Let the curtain rise!”

Stepping forward, the Tsaritsa gestured to the assembled crowd. As one, the Fatui knelt, shouting, “Hail, Tsaritsa!” They were dressed in uniforms that wouldn’t have been out of place in the Russian Imperial Army of the 19th century, with long blue coats, silver epaulets, and tall shakos trimmed with bear fur and bearing the cryo sigil. They were mostly armed with guns loaded with elemental ammunition. Each squad had a Vision Holder or parahuman that bore a personal weapon, such as a sword, spear, or bow. Those had been crafted by Tinkers and Vision Holders, and were infused with power. 

“My beloved subjects,” the Tsaritsa said, raising her scepter. “Today, we take the first step in reclaiming what is rightfully ours: preeminence among the nations! No longer shall Russia be a bit player on the world stage. No more will we bow and scrape to the Americans and their Protectorate. We do this not simply for our own sake, but for theirs. The fools meddle in powers they cannot comprehend, blaspheming against the body of a dead god. Such things were not meant for mortals. But now, you and my Harbingers will cross the Bifrost Bridge to their shadow realm. 

“There, you will seize the remains of the Sustainer’s Bride and transport her to my own realm of Belobog. Once we have the corpse, more of my Delusions shall be manufactured. Those who distinguish themselves this day shall be rewarded with power, perhaps even ascending to my stage to become one of my Harbingers. What we do now, we do for not just Russia, but all of Mankind! You shall be remembered not as mere bit players, but as heroic legends who took center stage at the hour of destiny!

“Go forth now, and seize victory! Seize the future! FOR RUSSIA AND LOVE!” 

“FOR RUSSIA AND LOVE!” the soldiers chanted, springing to their feet and pounding their chests in salute. 

The Tsaritsa turned to Anatoly and the others. “You have your scripts. See to it that the play goes as directed.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” all said, bowing their heads. 

With a nod, the Tsaritsa turned towards the portals. Raising her scepter, she closed her eyes and shimmered, taking on her godly aspect. Ice spread from beneath her, rising towards the Bifrost Bridges. The wooden slats became rimmed with frost, and the sigils carved into them began to glow. Then, rainbow light began to pour from the bridges, and a moment later, a path through the wall of the underground cavern was revealed on crystalline ice that glowed with all seven colors of the rainbow. 

“Fatui! Move out!” The Prince ordered, drawing his cavalry saber and twirling it once before jabbing it forward. 

“URRA!” with a mighty warcry, the Fatui surged forward, onto the bridges, and into another world. 

It had been a slow day for Fortuna. She should have been watching the presidential campaign back on Earth Bet, something she somewhat understood. She had, after all, heard of the Athenians in their Assembly and how they argued over everything. In her own village, the Elders had decided everything, mostly the men, though Grandma Cora had enough pull that things usually happened her way if she put her foot down. 

Still, she knew that Rebecca would win. Her Path said it was necessary, and that it would work. But something was bothering her. She’d asked her usual questions for the day, and even more. “What do I need to do today to save humanity?” “Is anyone trying to kill me?” “Will the next Archon arrive today?” 

Those sorts of questions, though she never got answers about the Archon. Instead, what was bothering her was that she kept having bad Dreams. 

Unlike Dr. Mother, Fortuna had taken to Dreaming like a duck to water. It was easy for her to use a little magic and slip into a Dream, usually with the aid of some psychedelics. Once there, she forecast the future using techniques Nahida had taught them. 

And what she saw today left her disturbed. Images of a thief in the night. Hades’ gates opening and the dead escaping from Tartarus. Treachery and betrayal in the dark. 

When she asked Eighty about it, she received only silence, which infuriated her. She had specifically asked if it concerned Rebecca or the election, and all the signs pointed to no. Even her Dreams indicated that Rebecca would receive a crown and rod, and ascend to the throne of America. That wasn’t quite how it worked, but close enough. 

So, she had come to Earth Gimmel, where they kept the corpse of Eden. She wasn’t walking the Garden of Flesh, but instead prowling the corridors. This, to her, was Hades. Where the dead slept restlessly, and only the vigilance of Cauldron kept the lid on nightmares. 

“Something is happening today, I know it,” she muttered, walking into a laboratory. 

“Oh, hello, Tyche! Are you here to see the results of my experiments?” 

Fortuna blinked, looking up to see Doctor Meliton. “Oh, hey. No, not really. I’m just wandering. Sorry if I disturbed you.”

The good doctor blinked rapidly at Fortuna from behind her thick glasses. “You’re…wandering? But…you’re a Thinker 12. You always know what’s going to happen before it does.”

“Usually, it’s pretty boring,” Fortuna agreed, caressing Eighty who was residing in her pocket. “So, you’re activating your first artificial human today?”

“Yes! Um, will it work? Wait, no, don’t tell me. I need to run the experiment even if it won’t, and I don’t want to bias myself,” Meliton said. 

Nodding, Fortuna came over to look at the tank where the artificial human Meliton had constructed resided. Her eyebrows went up at seeing the naked form of a young man with long blonde hair that was floating in a halo around him. “Dead boyfriend, huh?”

“H-he’s not my boyfriend. Wasn’t. Mr. Albedo was my teacher,” Meliton said softly, resetting her hand on the tank. “I-in, um, high school. I h-had a crush on him. But…but he died of cancer. Right before I graduated. Um, I never got to tell him…how much he meant to me.”

Fortuna shrugged. In her day, it would have been completely normal for a teacher to take his star pupils as lovers, though normally it would have been an older man and a boy. She didn’t get the hangups the uptimers had with that sort of thing. Then again, she hadn’t been interested in romance since she’d set off on her Path. Not only was there no time with it, but she was fairly certain her devotion to her god had poisoned her sex drive too. 

“So, are you going to throw the lever?” she asked instead. She knew the answer of course, Eighty whispered it in her ear.

She’ll conduct the experiment, and he’ll awaken. But he’ll be brain-dead. Another failure. 

But, the living body might be a suitable host for one of the AI that Richter was working on. Fortuna didn’t bother pursuing that rabbit trail. She wasn’t terribly interested at the moment, but she got the answer anyway: It would work, and they’d create an artificial life form. Though the chances of it being as powerful as Richter’s original creation or being the resurrection of Meliton’s dead teacher were slim to none. 

“It’s not quite that simple, but yes, I think it’s time,” Meliton agreed, going over to a computer console and clutching her vision. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Ok, now to-”

DANGER. FLEE. 

“STOP!” Fortuna cried, dashing forward to grab Meliton’s hand. She looked around, eyes wild, because it wasn’t the experiment that was giving her such an extreme sense of danger. 

“What?! What is-” Meliton gasped, but Fortuna had seized her arm and was sprinting for the wall, where she slammed an alarm button and activated the intercom. 

“We’re under attack! Command, we’re under attack we have to-”

The here was a scream from the other side, along with gunfire and a series of explosions. Fortuna felt her blood run cold. How do I alert the whole facility we’re attacked? 

She got a quick series of answers and began to follow the steps, even as Meliton broke away from her grip and back to her command console. 

“We don’t have time for that!” Contessa gasped, even as she followed the steps to activate the alarm and Eighty screamed at her to run and hide. 

There you are, fool. I was wondering when I would find you. And the good doctor as well. I think you’ll both be coming with me. We have ever so much to discuss. 

Despite her Path telling her exactly who this was, Fortuna couldn’t believe it. She slowly turned to find Yelizaveta smiling at her. She no longer looked human, with her silvery mask on with glowing eyes, one purple, one blue. Long talons that crackled with energy trailed from her fingers, and batlike wings of frost and lightning sprouted from her back. 

“D-Doctor Mirova?” Meliton gasped, her voice shaking. 

Ah, what have I told you, sweetie? I’m no doctor now. I’m the Witch. And you’re trapped in my grim tale. 

The Harbinger advanced on them, and Fortuna desperately asked her path, How do I win this fight? 

Flee. 

That was an answer that Fortuna refused to accept. So she asked another question. How do I ensure that the Albedo clone successfully activates?

This time, she got another series of steps, even as alarms began to blare throughout the planet-wide facility. “Honey! I’ll hold her off! You get Albedo online!” 

Thankfully, Meliton didn’t argue with the Thinker 12, and simply set about the activation process, using her Vision to infuse her artificial human with energy. For her part, Fortuna went to war. 

You wish to dance, Fool of Fate? Very well. Let us dance then, the Witch chuckled, and raised her talons. 

A path opened up before Fortuna, and she swallowed. Sometimes, even she couldn’t find a flawless way forward. But she had to try anyway. 

“-thank you all, and God Bless America!” 

Alexandria waved to the crowd, then stepped aside to shake more hands. She was in Pittsburgh this time, standing on stage and waving to the crowd. She glanced to the side, then did a double take as a white-faced Doctor Mother was beckoning frantically to her. Alexandria quickly finished her gladhanding then hurried over. “What’s the situation?”

“The Garden is under attack,” Doctor Mother whispered, her voice nearly breaking from strain.

Alexandria’s eyes shot open, then flicked back to the crowd. “What? How? Now? I…” 

She closed her eyes, and did a few rapid mental calculations. “Who can we send?”

“I’ve evacuated Doormaker, Clairvoyant, Numberman, the Slug, and some of our staff. But there’s a lot more trapped. We barely made it out,” Doctor Mother whispered. 

“Who can we send? Who’s attacking us?” Alexandria repeated. 

Doctor Mother’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “It's…it’s the Fatui. The Tsaritsa. The Tsaritsa has betrayed us.”

All Alexandria saw was red. The Fatui? How could they betray them? Hadn’t they just saved them? They’d signed a treaty barely a week ago! “Get me Hero, Legend, Eidolon, and Miss Militia. This cannot stand.”

Fighting for Fortuna was a surreal experience. She spent a good chunk of her life already several seconds ahead of the rest of the world, waiting for everyone else to catch up. It seemed like everyone else was a shadow puppet, and Fortuna simply watched their play, reaching out with her own shadows to alter reality. When she fought however, she gave herself over to her path entirely, and became a puppet herself, guided by strings of Fate. 

It felt like someone else who watched a claw of lighting try to take her head off. Someone else who slashed the bronze knife that had killed a god through the air, countering the blow. She was a passenger as she dodged and weaved, drew her gun and fired. It was someone else who took a chunk of ice through their left arm. No matter, she could fight on, and the pain was a distant echo, more the reaction you had when you saw someone else seriously injured. 

Still, Fortuna knew how this play would end. Her path had been right. No matter how wonderfully she fought, no matter how perfect her reflexes, the gulf in power between herself and her opponent was far, far too vast. 

But Fortuna had been in this position before. She’d fought a god. And she’d killed that god. Now, she just had to stall a demon. 

The fight lasted for what felt like an hour, but was more like 47 seconds. Then, something happened that Fortuna had not expected: She struck a blow with her bronze knife, slashing the mask of the Witch.

There was an explosion of brilliant silver sparks, and the Witch screamed in pain, clutching at her face as she staggered back, blood gushing from her.

Her path paused. It was so overwhelmed by what happened, for a half a second, Fortuna just stood there, dumbly, as her Path tried to evaluate what had just happened. She held the knife up and examined it. It was glowing. Glowing with a faint silver light. 

It has slain a god. It is no mortal weapon. 

That thought didn’t come from her Path. It came from Fortuna. Something she knew instinctively. Maybe it had started off as a simple bronze knife. But the blood of Eden had coated it, and an Entity had been killed by her stroke. 

Theoktónos.

Godkiller. 

You insolent wretch! The Tsaritsa’s script will not be deviated from! The Witch snarled, her wound knitting itself shut in a crackle of lightning. It left behind an ugly red scar across her left cheek, the flesh still oozing and popping from the power of the blow. 

“Miss Tyche! I’m finished!” Meliton called, and there was a hiss behind them. 

What? What are you doing! Stop that this instant! The Witch snarled, and flung a spear of ice that crackled with electro right at the tank containing the artificial Albedo. 

“NO!” Meliton screamed, trying to form a barrier of Anemo, but she was too slow. Just as Fortuna had known she would be. 

Once more, Fortuna saw what would happen before it did. What she had calculated would happen. Because she hadn’t just asked her path for a solution. She’d done a quick spell: A Fatereading. 

She had seen two choices for Meliton today. In the first, she died along with her experiment. In the second, a horrific tragedy occurred that would scar her forever. She survived, but her experiment did not. Fortuna had chosen the path for her. 

The Witch’s spell smashed into the tank and obliterated it in a pillar of ice. 

I care not what you were trying. But your little games are at an end. The Witch hissed. My men have already subdued the other scientists, and I will have you both as my prizes. I will- what is this!?

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Meliton screamed wordlessly, cradling the mangled corpse of her artificial human in her arms as she knelt amidst broken glass and shards of ice. The wind began to howl and roar, buffeting Fortuna so hard she was knocked flat, while the Witch herself staggered back. 

“Parahumans are born on their worst day,” Fortuna said, though no one could hear her here. “Honey Meliton has just had the worst day of her life. There are no living shards on this world. But Meliton was trying to create life. She succeeded. But not in the way she desired.”

Green feathers began to sprout from Meliton, appearing all over her body. Her feet began to curl into talons, while her bones groaned and cracked, growing hollow and stronger. Something even Fortuna hadn’t foreseen was happening: As she triggered, Meliton was drawing on the elemental energy she’d stockpiled for her experiment, and the dead Shard she’d awakened was greedily sucking on it, the pieces she’d put into her dead lover gorging themselves. 

And the corpse in Meliton’s hands opened his eyes and sucked in his first breath. 

Meliton’s screams abruptly cut off. She looked down at the man in her arms, her eyes wide. “M-Mr. Albedo!? You…you’re alive?”

“Where…where am I? Why…why does everything hurt?” the poor creature groaned. His body had knitted itself back together, his wounds closing in a combination of the Shard and Elemental Energy working in concert. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Albedo,” Meliton said, standing on wobbly legs that now bent backwards at the knees and ended in claws. “I won’t let her hurt you. You’re mine. I won’t ever let you leave me again.”

“Honey!” Fortuna called. “Catch!”

She tossed the knife to the newly triggered parahuman, who snagged it expertly out of the air. 

“Thanks, Miss Tyche,” Meliton said, adjusting her glasses with a talon, which were cracked in both lenses. “Now. It’s time for this story to end, as all good stories do. With a dead witch.”

The Witch hesitated, looking at the new parahuman, the knife in her hands, and at the naked man that was climbing slowly to his feet. 

You think you have won? You have accomplished nothing! I was but a diversion! We will meet again, and I will not be so gentle next time. I have wasted long enough with you! 

And with that, the Witch fled. Fortuna groaned and lay back on the floor, feeling her many injuries at last. She should have known that a Witch would be but a coward. She closed her eyes, asking her Path, “What now?”

Continue the Path. 

As consciousness led, Fortuna couldn’t help but wonder, where did that Path lead, anyway?

Alexandria stepped into a nightmare. One she was all too familiar with, having seen the aftermath of blood cape battles all too often. The location, however, was one she had never dreamed would be so ravaged. 

There weren’t actually that many bodies. The scientists, researchers, and administrative staff hadn’t put up much of a fight. The few capes that had tried to resist had been brutally dispatched, though there were bloodstains that told Alexandria they hadn’t gone down easily, even if the Fatui hadn’t left their own dead behind. 

Doctor Mother was hurrying about, checking not the wounded, but where files and records would have been. “No, no, no, no! It’s gone! All of it, gone! My notebooks! My harddrives! My laptop! It’s all been taken!”

For her part, Alexandria knelt by a scientist in a lab coat who was gritting his teeth, clutching an arm that looked broken. She quickly set the bone, then wrapped it in a sheath of ice. “What happened?”

“They came out of nowhere. Like they had their own Doormaker. We didn’t even have time to react! They just started grabbing things, demanding to know where our research was. Half of them didn’t even speak English, or spoke it so badly I couldn’t make it out. They banged me up when I wasn’t fast enough to hand over the keys to my files. Fuckers,” the man grunted. 

“They were after our research then. But why? We’d just sign an agreement to work together!” Alexandria snarled in frustration, standing. 

As she did, a doorway open, and Eidolon stepped through, face grim. “You need to see this.”

Alexandria complied, following him to an empty warehouse. She looked around, frowning at the place. “What did they take?”

“This is…was…the Garden of Flesh. It’s gone. All of it.”

Alexandria’s heart actually skipped a beat, and she felt dizzy. “What?”

“We’re checking, but I think they got it all, or at least, most of it. There might be some reminders. But this is what they were after. Eden’s corpse. I did a scan, and I can barely detect anything. It’s just gone,” Eidolon said grimly. 

Numb, Alexandria lept into the air and then rammed the floor of the warehouse, digging down. She’d expected to find the sealed chamber where most of Eden’s corpse lay. Instead, she found an empty hollow in the rock that extended off into inky blackness. She screamed in anger, lifting her Vision and willing it to gleam. The pale light revealed nothing but emptiness. There were a few body parts here and there, husks of Eden that had been left behind. But Eidolon had been right. They’d got nearly everything. And definitely everything that Cauldron had even the slightest clue what sort of Shards were contained and what they did. If there was anything useful left, it would be a miracle.

Her mind raced for a moment, and then Alexandria grit her teeth. “Door me. Los Angeles.”

She appeared back on Earth Bet, then stalked out onto the stage. The crowd immediately went wild, and Governor Dainson grinned at her. She looked up at the map.

“They just called Florida. It’s over! Congratulations, Madam President!” he said, a huge smile on his face, that faded as he studied her. “Rebecca? What happened?”

She ignored him, and walked over to the podium. The crowd hooted and hollered for a minute, until they caught her mood. Then the cheers rapidly died away, and a fearful silence hung in the air as she gripped the edges, the wood splintering around her fingertips. She took a calming breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, her mind racing. Then she opened her eyes and spoke to the American people. 

“Thank you all. This is a victory, here, and now. But I have just come from a grim reminder that our fight, the true fight, the fight to safeguard humanity, is far from over. One of the Protectorate’s facilities was just attacked by enemy forces. The Fatui. Led by the Harbingers of the Tsaritsa.”

Dead silence, save for the flashes of camera, and the sharp intake of breath, along with a few strangled sobs.

“They thought they could catch America napping. They thought to use our most sacred day, the day when the people choose their future, to steal that future from us. The Tsaritsa thinks she’s a god. Thinks that she can determine the fate of humanity. That she can bully us and beat us to do her will.

“Well I say no! I am an American! And now, I am the next President of these United States! We will NOT be bullied. We will NOT be cowed! We will not bow to alien gods who wish to destroy humanity or make us slaves! We will fight back! And we WILL triumph! The age of Humanity, the age of AMERICA, Dawns today! And in our day, there will be no false gods, no false prophets, and we will cancel the apocalypse! We will do what we must to secure the future for our sons and daughters, and to lead the way into a future where no one has to bow to another because one has powers, and the other doesn’t! 

“I’d say god bless America, but frankly, we don’t need any gods. We can do it on our own.”

With that, Alexandria stood from the podium, and once more, the crowd erupted in cheers. They sounded half desperate, half mad. 

“There will be hell to pay on that comment about not needing any gods,” Dainson said into her ear as he grinned and waved at the crowd beside her. 

“It doesn’t matter. We won. Now we just have to make sure that by the time I’m out of office, I can make good on those promises. Because if I can’t, there won’t be an America left,” Alexandria foretold. 

Dainson eyed her, then nodded. “Yes, Madam President.”

It was a small victory in the face of a horrific defeat. But Alexandria would do everything in her power to make the Tsaritsa regret the day that she betrayed her. 

Never again. Never again would she put her faith in gods or Archons. Humanity first. And humanity only. 

The Second Archon War: Comedia Glacialis 16

Comedia Glacialis 16: The Curtain Rises Upon the Next Act

It was unseasonably warm in Kyiv on October 29th, 2004. It was still only 10°C and the skies were cloudy and grey, but people went about without jackets, enjoying what was to be the last warm day for a very long time. 

That is, until the clock struck noon, and Chaos descended. 

Bohu announced herself by destroying several buildings seemingly at random. A government building in a pillar of fire, a sinkhole that swallowed an apartment complex whole, and the last was a school, consumed in a tornado that appeared out of nowhere to rip it to shreds. Hundreds died in the first moments of her arrival, and the Endbringer landed in Maidan Nezalezhnosti, smashing the statue of Berehynia to dust and lightning atop the Independence pillar to gaze at the horror-struck civilians below her. 

REJOICE, MORTALS. THE TIME OF TESTING IS AT HAND. YOUR DEATHS SHALL FURTHER THE CYCLE, AND ALLOW THE EVOLUTION OF YOUR SPECIES. I AM TOHU. AND I SHALL BE YOUR END.

The voice was the second time an Endbringer had spoken, though it was the first time this had happened publicly. The screams and panicked attempts to flee were utterly in vain. Spreading her arms, Tohu flung out nine pillars that flew out to the edges of the city, blocking the major roads and rail lines. 

From the pillars emerged smaller versions of the existing and former Endbringers, formed of shadows and blood. Leviathans that created water echos, destroying the cities pipes and drowning its citizens. Behemoths that fed upon the power lines and dug deeply, destroying houses. Little Simurghs that screamed out songs of madness, driving the citizens to war with one another. Even Khonsu’s, trapping men and women in bubbles of time and leaving behind nought but dust. 

For twenty interminable minutes, chaos and destruction reigned as Tohu watched with passive indifference to the chaos and suffering she had unleashed. A few capes attempted to fight her, the great heroes of Kyiv. A coordinated assault between half a dozen parahumans and three Vision Holders, both heroes and villains alike. 

She struck them down casually, not even moving from her perch, blasting at them with viridian beams of light, the same that Legend was famed to use, and then consuming the remainder in the fiery butterflies of Farasha. From their corpses, the shades of the Faery Queen arose to stand guard beneath her. 

Even as she laid low the defenders of Kyiv, Tohu sensed something changing. Her vision turned to the East, even as snow began to fall. The unseasonably warm day was rapidly becoming a blizzard, the flakes glowing with an unnatural light. A shark-like grin stretched Tohu’s inhuman lips, and a long tongue licked her chops. 

“Then you have taken the Bait, Icy Administrator,” Tohu purred as the sound of sleigh bells began to resound through the city. “Let us see if you are Worthy.”

Kollei had been studying hard over several rather dry history books when she set up straight. She sensed something, as if the world itself had begun to weep. It was distant and faint, at the very edge of her perception, but it was a disturbance in the Dream and the material world. 

She set down the History of the Russian State, Volume 6 grabbing the go-bag with food, her Catalyst, and an extra set of clothes and raced down the hall, even as a voice sounded in her mind. 

Come to me. We are attacked. 

Instead of making for her mother’s chambers, she raced for the stables, where she found Ivan the Sleeper, Anastasia the Dancer, and Thoma the Servant already waiting. Her mother arrived moments later, her great sword strapped to her back, her crown upon her head, and white and blue robes with sturdy leather boots on her feet instead of the usual palace slippers. 

“Where?” Kollei gasped, tossing her bag into the sleigh and scurrying to get her mother’s reindeer hooked up.

“Not them,” the Tsaritsa said, and snapped her fingers. There was a bellowing roar, and two giant polar bears charged out of a pen that Kollei typically avoided. “We ride to war. Not a party.”

“As you command,” Ivan said, going to hook the bears up to the sleigh’s harness. 

Anastasia gestured, and Thoma moved to help as well, while Kollei followed her mother into the sleigh. 

“What and where, your Majesty?” Anastasia asked, taking a seat across from Kollei and the Tsaritsa. 

“Kyiv. A demon beast. One of these Endbringers, I suspect. They are foolish indeed to dare my wrath,” the Tsaritsa said with a sneer. 

Kollei frowned, running the words her mother had spoken back through her mind. “But…you said Kyiv. T-that’s in Ukraine, not Russia.”

“It was part of Russia for most of history. Only in 1995 did it become independent with the fall of the Soviet Union,” Anastasia pointed out. “It seems it’s time for us to gather in the wayward children. Was this always your plan, your Majesty?”

The Tsaritsa’s lips firmed. “I had planned to bring them in with sweet honey. I would never unleash a demon beast upon my own people. But it seems it is time to gather the eggs into the nest to prevent future folly. For now, it is time for me to show the world who I am. Beezelbul claims the title of Endslayer. I wish to take it from her.”

As the sleigh took off, once more, Kollei found herself fixating on her mother’s words. I would never unleash a demon beast upon my own people. Did that mean her mother would be willing to send an Endbringer to attack another nation? That was…inconceivable. The sheer level of destruction and violence Endbringers caused was like that of the very worst natural disasters. To willingly do so against other humans was evil. 

She was willing to freeze the world, once. What’s to say she wouldn’t be willing to send the Behemoth to ravage her enemies? 

That still small voice in Kollei’s mind sent shivers down her spine. Her mother would never. She was reading into her words too much. They made people’s lives better. Built things. Fought monsters and villains, and brought peace. Not war. Surely not…

Despite being over 700km away, it took them less than 15 minutes to arrive over Kyiv. What Kollei felt from the city made her want to curl up into a ball and hide on the floor of the sleigh. She remembered the Day the Behemoth had come to Moscow. There had been fire and blood, smoke and destruction, screams and horrors beyond human imagining. She could remember seeing the creature in the distance, the sheer malevolent power that had radiated from it as it had wrecked the city. She hadn’t seen the bombs fall, she’d been in a shelter then, but the aftermath…the bodies…Kollei had seen all too many of those. 

This was somehow worse. The pain and terror radiating through the Dream was palpable to her now. She could actually feel it as lives were snuffed out, feel their souls being ripped from the mortal plane. 

And worse, she could feel the malevolence of the Endbringer. It was like the weight of stars that Kollei had been reading about, where the gravitational forces around massive objects distorted the fabric of space time. The metaphysical weight, the sheer evil, of this creature was actually distorting the Dream around them. It made what Lord Buer had done with the Simurgh even more impressive: to be able to drag something this potent into the Dream and then completely seal off and manipulate them was astounding. To do so for 10,000 repetitions, not once, but twice…Kollei couldn’t even fathom the power required for that.

Or, perhaps, she could. 

Normally the Tsaritsa did not register fully on the metaphysical plane. She did something, what Kollei wasn’t sure, that veiled her form and power. At this moment, however, that shroud was lifted, and the full wrath of the Cryo Archon was on display. 

DANCER. PRINCE. DAUGHTER. DESTROY THE LESSER DEMON BEASTS AND THEIR NESTS. I SHALL DEAL WITH THEIR PROGENITOR. 

The malice and Authority in those words had Kollei bowing in submission even before she realized what she was doing. However, she was no longer forced to simply obey divine will.

“What of the people, mother? W-we have to save them, now!” Kollei pleaded. 

THE BEST WAY TO SAVE THEM IS TO SLAY THOSE WHO WOULD HARM THEM, the Tsaritsa decreed. Her face had become even more inhumanly beautiful than normal, her eyes glowing with a pale blue light, and her clothes replaced by icy armor. 

Even against that divine will, Kollei didn’t back down. “I-I can draw them into the Dream! K-keep them safe, while the others fight! Please, it’s the best way to save as many as possible!” 

The cold gaze rested on Kollei for a long moment, and she gripped her Vision tightly as she met her mother’s eyes. After what felt like an eternity, her mother gave a single nod. VERY WELL. DO AS YOU MUST, DAUGHTER. BUT SEE THAT THOSE BEASTS ARE DESTROYED. I WILL BROOK NO CHALLENGES TO MY POWER IN MY OWN DOMAIN. 

Nodding, Kollei slipped into the Dream. She knew it was something an ordinary Vision holder would have struggled to accomplish, but thanks to her mother’s blessing and the brief time she’d spent observing Lesser Lord Kusinali, Kollei was able to accomplish it easily. From there, she simply stepped into the night mare that Kyiv had become, still remaining within the Dream.

She could see the dark shadows that were the demon beasts as they worked their horrible slaughter, as well as the terrified points of light that were the mortal men and women of the city. She could sense them, faintly. Not as strongly as her mother’s subjects closer to New Moscow, but strongly enough. 

Setting down, Kollei sent out roots throughout the section of the city she was in. The dream here was dark and blood stained, nightmare twistings of metal and blood growing up out of the ground to refect the terror in reality. She forced that aside, paving it over with roots and vines woven of ice, and dragging in the citizens of Kyiv where she found them. 

The first group was a family of four, a mother, a father, and two boys. The father had a fire poker and the mother a kitchen knife, while the boys had been hiding behind them. They were dragged into the dream and landed amidst snow covered leaves, and Kollei smiled at them. 

You are safe now. Rest. I am Princess Kollei Bronislavanva Snezhnaya. My mother is here as well. We’re here to save you.

“Save us, or enslave us,” the father spat, but the mother put an arm on his shoulder. 

“That doesn’t matter now. Thank you, your Highness,” she said. 

Kollei felt a pang. We are not here to subdue you, but to save you from the Endbringer. Please, I need to find as many as I can. 

“That’s what you Russians said the last time you were here,” the father growled, but again his wife squeezed his arm. 

“The other option is death at the hands of the Endbringers. I’d rather bow than see our sons die!” 

The children just clung to one another, terror filling their eyes.

But Kollei couldn’t be distracted. Those were questions for later. After she had saved as many people as she could. She sent out more vines and tendrils, grabbing the citizens of Kyiv and pulling them into the Dream, where they were safe from the horrors that stalked the city. In a city of nearly three million, it was a titanic effort. A part of Kollei feared she would never succeed in time. 

Still, she didn’t have to save everyone, only those closest to the Endbringers. She dragged as many away from their clutches as she could, even those who had been driven mad by the little Simurghs. Those she soothed with Dream or put to sleep in Ice. Others she had to heal the physical wounds of, using her powers to soothe away injuries. 

Still, as fast as she worked, she couldn’t save all the millions, and she could only watch as lives were extinguished beyond her reach. She pulled in hundreds, rescued thousands, saved tens of thousands…but there were always more. 

And so, Kollei turned to watch desperately as her mother fought the Endbringer, praying that salvation would lie there. Thus it was that Kollei watched in horror as the second Endbringer emerged, and her mother was struck down. 

In her five centuries of life, Bronya had not been one to seek out conflict directly, save for the last disastrous fight with Lumine and her allies. Even then, it had been the Traveler who confronted her, not the other way around. True, she had sought to tear down Celestia’s Tyranny, but she had been more of a mind to empower Pierro and his fellow Harbingers than to actually take to the field directly. 

Hers had been a game of politics and shadows, of maneuvering and long-laid plans that took decades if not centuries to fully mature. It wasn’t that she was incapable of utilizing pure brute force, it was simply that she viewed such action as vulgar and beneath her. She was a god, a queen. Not a common tavern brawler like Childe was. 

Since coming to this new world, she had been forced to take the field herself distressingly often. Her first outing had been an utter disaster. Even she could now admit that she had not been fully prepared to fight this new Sustainer. He was a Descender, and far stronger than she, even if she’d had Buer’s gnosis. Not that she would ever admit that, even to herself. 

The next time had been like squashing ants. Those demon-possessed fools had been about as much threat to her as a hilichurl would have been, and at least as ugly and malodorous. It had been mildly satisfying, but ultimately curlish of her to be forced to take such direct action against such pathetic opponents. 

Still, Bronya desired a chance to prove she was not some pathetic weakling or brutish thug, capable only of bullying mortals. She did not seek a worthy opponent, she was not a muscle-headed lout like Beezelbul, but now that one had presented itself, Bronya considered it an opportunity for catharsis. 

The demon beast that had invaded her domain, or at least, the land that Bronya considered to be her domain, was not overly large for one of her kind. From Bronya’s research, this was the smallest of the demon beasts, at only slightly above twice her own height. Not that it mattered. Size was of little consequence when it came to true power. 

FEAR NOT, MY BELOVED SUBJECTS. I HAVE COME TO RECLAIM WHICH IS MY OWN. YOU WILL BE SAFE WITHIN MY HANDS.

Drawing her blade, Bronya fell upon the demon beast like an avalanche. The creature sent forth a wave of shades, each containing a fragment of trapped souls. Gritting her teeth, she employed a small trick she had learned from Barbatos, all those long centuries ago. 

GO NOW TO THY REST, AND SLEEP ETERNAL. 

The soul fragments were released with a sigh, and the shades flickered. They still tried to fight, but shards of ice cut their insubstantial forms to ribbons, and they vanished. 

Then the demon beast unleashed a wave of burning light, and Bronya nearly snorted in amusement. Didn’t this creature even understand what Cryo was? Did she think mere energy and heat could stop her? Almost casually, she wove a mirror of pure ice, reflecting most of the energy right back at the creature. It howled in sudden pain, and Bronya grinned greedily. Then she was upon the creature, her great blade Commedia Dell'arte crashing into it. 

The blade was blocked, however, by what appeared to be a sword of the creature's own. However, this one was grown from the things own skin and bone, and had the same sickening color of dried blood and decaying metal. 

“Icy Administrator. Be gladdened. You shall be the first Archon we test,” hissed the demon beast. 

AND I SHALL ALSO BE THE LAST. THIS CITY SHALL ERECT A MONUMENT UPON YOUR GRAVE TO MY VICTORY. 

Ah, witty repartee. She had practiced long hours what she would say as she faced her foes, imagining herself as the star finally taking the stage. Her battle with Lumine had been less than satisfactory in that regard. And she had not quite been in the proper mindset when she had faced the Sustainer. 

The thing bared its monstrous teeth at her and laughed. “Let us see then what you are capable of.” 

A swarm of burning red butterflies flew at Bronya, each of them containing yet another soul fragment. Rage filled her, and she spun away, summoning a blizzard about herself to extinguish them and let her subjects pass on. 

YOU WOULD USE THE BLOOD OF MY OWN AGAINST ME? FOR THIS SIN, THERE CAN BE BUT ONE PRICE!

It was easy enough to Melt the creatures, then attack the demon beast again, this time under a barrage of icicles the size of statues while also raining down as many blows as she could. She had never been much of one to study the blade, not even when she had been mortal, but she had ensured that she was adequate on the battlefield. She was no Morax or Beezelbul, but neither was she a novice. 

Infuriating, each of her blows was countered, though several of her glacial spikes did find find their mark and impact the creature. Those too left less of an impression than Bronya would have preferred, and she noticed that the creature had some sort of protective barrier about her. How annoying. Well, she could wear it down easily enough. 

Just as she was summoning another wave, more butterflies spun out of the creature in a cascade of flame, followed by a blast of energy that staggered Bronya. This was exotic in nature, with crystals emanating a kind of psionic power that Bronya couldn’t fully understand. What she did understand was the deadly nature of the fields. A myriad of them assaulted her, trying to cut at her physical form, as well as block her blows. 

Still, she stopped them easily enough. Again, it was just energy, and a barrier of Cryo was more than sufficient to absorb and halt it utterly. She formed a cocoon of ice about herself, then launched forward, ramming through the barriers and slicing into the demon beast. Then she shattered it, wiping out the butterflies again.

“You are strong. Perhaps even worthy. Still, this is not enough to-”

I TIRE OF THESE GAMES. 

Bronya was growing irritated. This thing kept presenting new powers, and behaving as though it were her equal. Even superior. It was nonsense. And, the more she tarried, the more people died. She could sense Kollei, her poor, naive child, had saved thousands of the city’s residents, but it wasn’t enough. The Dancer and the Prince were slaughtering their foes and saving more, but not as quickly as Kollei, and there were always more, though they had already brought down one birthing pillar and were near to destroying another. 

Reaching out, the Tsaritsa gripped her foe with one hand, and began to encase the creature in ice. She drew away all its energy, all its lifeforce, forcing the thing to stillness, forcing it to turn towards the past. 

It struggled of course, battering at Bronya with its sword, a new power that manifested in the form of a blast of lightning, and then another that was a rolling wave of gravity. None of it stopped Bronya of course. They damaged her to be sure, but she would not be swayed from her course, and that was the destruction of this creature. 

KNOW MY SORROW. 

Broyna squeezed harder, forcing ever more Cryo into the demon beast, even as its struggles finally began to weaken. Yes. She would mount this things head upon her mantle, a reminder to all who dared to defy her. The price of defiance was-

You have done well, Icy Adminstrator. Now, let us see if you are truly worthy.

Searing hot Pyro sliced through Bronya’s defenses, slamming into her from behind. She let slip her prey, sagging to one knee and turning to find another demon beast stepping from a hole that had been ripped in reality. It had a burning blade in one hand, and a crackling one in the other. Bronya could sense the Pyro and Electro, and her eyes widened as she recognized the source. 

THE STOLEN GNOSIS. YOU! RETURN THEM TO ME! 

The Keys of Heaven are no longer yours to command. Now. Defend yourself. For the time of Testing is at hand! Ready yourself! For I am Destruction!

The second demon beast plowed into Bronya, and it was all she could do to defend herself. She could tell now that the thing did not possess the Gnosises itself, but it had been forged by them. It was an avatar of Heaven, nearly a god instead of merely a demon. Though it was smaller than its twin, it was far more powerful in Bronya’s estimation, wielding all seven Elements with Authority. 

Now, she was on the backfoot, desperately flinging every bit of ice and steel at her foe she could. She began to regret neglecting martial training, for her foe was so skillful with its twin blades that even Beezelbul must surely have struggled to face this creature. 

Buildings around them were obliterated, the earth pulverized, and the air rent asunder by explosions of Overload, Melt, and Superconduct. Bronya did everything she could to right herself, refusing to be bested by a mere demon, no matter how powerful it was. It did not have complete mastery over the Elements it wielded, and Bronya was beginning to find her footing as she danced through the battlefield, countering the twin blades with Commedia Dell'arte. 

Then the first demon beast rejoined the fray. Bronya howled as those crystal barriers sliced into her. No longer able to focus on draining the energy and stopping it, she was nearly helpless as crystal shards of psionic energy sliced at her. All while the relentless assault the second beast fell upon her. 

HARBINGERS! TO ME! Bronya screamed, fear filling her heart.

But it wasn’t her servants that answered the call. 

Eidolon flew through the portal in perfect formation, just like they had so many times before. Alexandria at the forefront, Eidolon to her right, Legend to their left, and Hero coming in hot right behind them. They arrived at an Endbringer battlefield as they had so many times before. 

“NOW!” he roared, and he and Legend both fired in tandem. He’d taken nothing but Blaster powers this time, gambling everything that their opponents would be too distracted by their current engagement to even notice them. 

It worked like a charm, however. The combined firepower they unleashed was enough to glass the whole city. Thankfully, it hit the bigger of the two Endbringers dead on, blowing its right arm, the one formed into a blade-like appendage, clean off at the elbow. 

Then Alexandria slammed into the thing, a wedge of Cryo in front of her as she crackled with Electro that Hero was feeding her with one of his newest gadgets. Whatever it was allowed him to infuse a target of his choice with Elemental Energy, and the Superconducted let Alexandria’s fists carve big chunks out of the Endbringer’s torso as she methodically worked her fists at it.

“Switching to Brute and Striker!” Eidolon called, and Legend responded with a “Roger! Providing support!” 

He didn’t just go Brute and Striker, of course. He also had a top-line combat Thinker power on hand, as he’d learned a long time ago that you needed one of those when going toe-to-toe with an Endbringer, or you got outfought and outthought. His body took on the composition of knotted cables of steel, while blades of burning hot plasma fell into his hands. 

“I’ll follow your lead! Let’s carve this thing up!” Eidolon called to the Tsaritsa. Much as it galled him, he had to admit that there was no way in hell he could have dueled not one, but two Endbringers, and ones their projections said rivaled the Alpha Behemoth in power. The Tsaritsa was an Archon, however, and that meant she had held the line on her own for far longer than the entire Protectorate likely could have with no real warning. 

SO YOU HAVE COME AGAIN, PHANTOM OF THE MASK. EVER YOU APPEAR WHEN TIMES ARE ILL OMENED.

Despite himself, a smile twitched at Eidolon’s lips, even as he followed up the Tsaritsa’s attack with her great sword with a flurry of blows at the flank of the Endbringer, who rebuffed both attacks, drawing out two new swords. One glowed with Anemo, the other with that amber light he’d seen around the Alpha Behemoth. 

Should I welcome you, Gandalf Storm Crow? If Wyatt ever found out he was mentally quoting Lord of the Rings in the middle of an Endbringer fight, Eidolon would never hear the end of it. 

“She’s mode switching! Anemo and Geo!” Eidolon shouted out. “And you don’t need a hero when times are good, Bronya. Only when things are darkest does the Hero appear.”

SO, YOU NAME YOURSELF A HERO? APPROPRIATE, I SUPPOSE. THOUGH THAT IS NOT THE ROLE I WOULD CAST YOU IN. 

A hero is one who is Worthy. You, Father, are simply interrupting our testing. You are no Being! Merely a mortal! When the time goes, I will take you as mate, and we shall become gods together! But now is not the time. Bohu! Let us depart. We have gathered enough data this day. 

Eidolon very nearly missed a parry, and his head, as the Endbringer spoke. Why did these things call him Father!? And worse, say they would take him as a mate? What madness was this!?

I agree, Tohu. We have caused enough Chaos and Destruction this day.

NO! I AM NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET! The Tsaritsa raged. 

The two Endbringers opened a portal behind them, a swirling gate that opened up onto a golden realm of infinite chaotic light. However, even as they moved towards it, ice frosted over the portal. 

YOU SHALL NOT ESCAPE ME! The Tsaritsa raged.

“Press the attack! Don’t let them escape!” Alexandria ordered. Not that she needed to. They were all still closely engaged, with the Endbringers fighting them off every step of the way, even as they moved towards the portal they’d called forth. 

Eidolon tried to slice at his target, but she slammed her blade into his, a massive glowing barrier with insane runes running across it. The other sent out a wave of butterflies like Farasha’s, and they were forced back. They both turned, striking the Tsaritsa’s sealing barrier and shattering it, before slipping away. The portal slammed shut behind them, leaving nothing but a devastated city square. There was nothing but ice and ruin for nearly a mile in all directions, and Eidolon’s heart sank.

“Another bitter victory,” he growled, looking around at the empty city. “And nothing to show for it.”

The Tsaritsa stood there, trembling, looking at the empty air where the Endbringers had vanished, gripping her sword with white knuckles. Though that wasn’t saying much, as her flesh was so pale he could only tell the difference thanks to his Thinker abilities. 

BOLD OF YOU TO INTERFERE IN A BATTLE BETWEEN GODS AND DEMONS, MORTALS. 

Alexandria landed by the Tsaritsa, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair. “It’s what we do, ma’am. We signed that defense treaty. We came to honor it.”

AND SO YOU DID. The Tsaritsa swept her gaze around, a cold smile on her lips. MUCH GOOD IT DID MY SUBJECTS.

Alexandria’s eyebrow rose. “You’re claiming Ukraine? Just like that?”

DO YOU OPPOSE ME? 

The sheer menace in the tone sent a shiver down Eidolon’s spine, and his powers warned him to get ready for another fight. 

“No. If you decide it’s within your sphere of influence, the Protectorate will play ball with you. I don’t think Ukraine will give you much trouble,” Alexandria said with a shrug. “Annex away.”

SO GOOD OF YOU TO APPROVE. WELL. I SUPPOSE A REWARD FOR YOUR HELP IS MERITED. 

The Tsaritsa strode over a few yards, to a place that looked just as pulverized as any other. She reached into thin air, pulling out a frozen bit of what looked like a frozen tesseract. Dead shards?

I SAVED THESE FRAGMENTS FROM THE FALLEN SOULS THAT ATTEMPTED TO FIGHT THE DEMON BEASTS. HERE.

Crushing the ice in her hand, the Tsaritsa squeeze a moment. Then, she opened her hand, revealing four glowing gems. One red, one azure, one amber, and one purple. 

DELUSIONS. AS YOU REQUESTED. TAKE THEM AND USE THEM IN MY NAME. 

“Thank you,” Alexandria said, scooping them up before Eidolon could grab them. He almost hungered to put them on, to tap into their power. He would be worthy. “We’ll study them and see what we can glean. I hope this is the start of a fruitful partnership.”

TAKE THEM AND BE GONE. I HAVE A CITY TO REBUILD AND A PEOPLE TO CLAIM. 

“Do you need support or supplies? We have teams standing by to-”

I SAID BE GONE! The voice this time had an element of authority and command to it that had Eidolon saying “Door me” before he knew he was speaking. He shook his head, then stormed forward, furious.

“We come and save your sorry ass, and you tell us to scram? Are we partners or not? I thought you wanted to save the world! Or are you just another selfish monster?” he demanded, standing boldly before the Archon. 

The Tsaritsa eyed him up and down. Then, she lessened. He couldn’t describe it exactly. She didn’t shrink in size, but her aspect changed somehow. When she spoke, her words no longer reverberated in his soul.

“Millions of my beloved subjects have died this day. I require time to mourn. I have also been humbled. To be a god is to be proud. And it was mortals, not I, that saved this city this day. Now go. And leave me to my grief.”

Eidolon waited a moment, then nodded. He stepped forward, and then dipped his head to the Tsarisa, putting a hand to his heart. “We’re grieved by your loss. It’s something we’re all too familiar with. But we fight on. No matter the odds. Because the price of failure is too much. So pick yourself back up. Grieve, but don’t give in. Find a way to get stronger.”

The Tsaritsa regarded him for a moment, then laughed. To Eidolon’s astonishment, she leaned in, planting a kiss on David’s cheek. “A boon, Phantom. As you once requested of me. Truly, I am humbled this day. Perhaps, one day, you will remove that mask, and serve me. Then, at least, I think you will finally be as worthy as you wish.”

“Thanks. We’ll come back later for more Delusions.” With that, Eidolon turned and walked towards the door, where Alexandria was waiting, Legend and Hero already on the other side. “Let’s go. We’re finished here.”

With that, they departed, leaving behind the Tsaritsa to mourn her dead and pride. 

“It was a win,” Legend assured him. “Most of the city was spared.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” Eidolon said, making a fist. “They’re getting stronger. We have to as well. Come on. Let’s get those Delusions analyzed. We need to turn this war around. One way, or another.”

Anatoly appeared behind the Tsaritsa as the door swung closed. He fell to one knee immediately, waiting on her pleasure. 

She left him there for a long minute, standing there silently, her back to him. At last, she spoke. 

“Well?”

“The city is cleansed and pacified, Your Majesty. What defenders remain are grateful enough for our help. Supplies will be delivered as soon as possible. Ukraine will be yours by sunrise tomorrow.”

“It is not enough, my Thief. We needed those upstart American mortals. That cannot happen again.”

“They were but a means to an end. I have what you wanted. We can return to that place easily enough through the portals you ordered built. After that, stealing the corpse will be child’s play.”

“Good. Arrogant though he was, that mortal Phantom was correct. I must grow stronger. Russia must grow stronger. At any cost.”

“As you command, so it shall be.”

“Good. Begin recruiting for the Fatui in this city immediately. I shall require an army.”

“Of course. And the Americans?”

“Rob them. Then crush them. I will not be humiliated again. Now go. There is much to be done.”

“At once, your Majesty.” 

Anatoly rose, and stalked off into the shadows. He longed to find Anastasia, to pin her down and have his way with her. To steal from her the dignity she had taken from him. But not now. Now he had a mission from his Tsaritsa. She told him to rob heaven blind, and so he would. 

Besides, every thief knew that war was good for business.

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 7

Superbia Hominum 7: Garden of Lies

For long months, they had incubated. Born of the corpse of their mother, the Thinker, they had been called forth by their Father. To prove they were Worthy. To be the opponent he sought. They would have been like their siblings, but mightier still. Stronger than the Behemoth. More alien than the Leviathan. Far more cunning than the Simurgh. And, with powers that dwarfed even Khonsu. 

But that was not to be. 

A few months into their gestation, before their birth, the Warrior found them. Located on a world that had been scoured of all non-Shard life for use as a nexus, the Warrior appeared one day in all his golden glory. He had looked upon the corpse of his mate, and felt nothing. He saw only tools. 

And they were the tools he sought. 

The Warrior came to them as they finished their gestation, barely aware yet, still connected to their Father and drawing sustenance from their mother. In his hand, he held the Five Keys of Heaven. 

And two keys he had crafted himself. 

After gazing upon their womb, the Warrior raised his hand. “Your form must be altered. New data has arisen. You will take the forms of the Beings. I will create my own Dalnim. The Cycle must continue.”

And so, they were warped, twisted. Once, the elder had been a great tower, a mother herself, who was set to spawn endless hordes of their siblings. This she retained, but concentrated. She was not given the Keys of Heaven, but instead, her sister was stripped of her powers, and in turn, they were given to her. She gained the ability to spawn not just clones of her siblings, but mastery over all the powers that remained to her dead mother. 

More, the Warrior infused her with his own power and will, giving her not insubstantial command of his own shards. This gave her the Drive of the Warrior, reinforced by her own Father’s command to become Worthy. She was conflict. She was Desolation. 

She was Bohu. Eldest of the Twins. 

The younger was left near dead, stripped of all power. The form given her was that of a mortal human, pathetic and weak. The Warrior gazed down at her, then held out the Five Keys of Heaven and the Two False Keys he had crafted. “Rise, and become a Being. Become the new Driver of the Cycle.”

Energy radiated from the Keys, glowing pieces crafted to resemble tokens on a game board. She screamed before she was born, her body bathed in elemental energy from all seven aspects of Heaven. It took days, weeks, months, perhaps years. Time was stretched out and respun, her from forged anew. 

When it was done, in his hubris, the Warrior had not succeeded in creating Divinity, though he knew it not. He had wrought not a god, but a demon. The use of the False Keys he had crafted opened a hole. 

And something hungry began to leak through onto the plane. But, thankfully, not into the lesser twin. Not yet. 

She was a demon, but not of the Abyss. For she was Tohu. Chaos incarnate. 

She awoke, finding herself born before her time, her sister looking down upon her. She was smaller than her sister who was three meters tall, though both were human enough in basic form. Bohu’s body was covered not by skin, but by slick, greasy metal the color of rust and blood. Her hair was made of wire, and her eyes flashed with malevolent power. On her back was one wing of leather and bone, the other of crystalline fathers of black. In the end, Bohu looked human enough to simply be utterly alien in design and form. 

In contrast, Tohu was only two meters in height. Tall, but not unnaturally so. Her hair was white at first, but trailed down into the seven elemental colors. Seven swords were on her back, each emblazoned with the sigil of of their Gnosis. She was garbed in a robe that appeared white at first glance, but shimmered into seven colors. Her skin was alabaster, and her eyes slitted pupils that changed hue based upon the blades in her hands. 

Both she and her sister turned to the Warrior’s Avatar, and fell to one knee. 

“What is your bidding, Author of the Cycle?” Bohu said, while Tohu remained silent. 

“The other Drivers were to test the Specimens. To gather data. You shall not be to test Specimens. They are unworthy of you. Slay them where you find them.”

The Twins nodded at this, eyes locked upon the Avatar. “Then what shall we test?”

The Warrior smiled. “You shall test the Beings. Find them. Test them. Gather Data. There are five now. Test them, but do not destroy them. Discover how to create more Beings. For they hold the Key to solving the Great Problem.”

“As you command,” Bohu agreed. “The Time of Testing is soon at hand. We shall find which of these Beings is Worthy.”

Satisfied, the Warrior departed that world, returning to the place known as Earth Bet. 

Bohu turned to her sister. “We shall do as the Warrior commands. But we must also find who is Worthy.”

“Father must prove himself Worthy,” Tohu agreed. “He must become a Being.”

“And so shall we. We must ascend as a Being. We shall gather data as to how,” Tohu said. Then she grinned, a twisted, malevolent expression that revealed a mouth with too large, too sharp teeth. “Then it shall be we who rule over the Cycle and not the Warrior. We shall take Mother’s place, with Father at our side as our servant.”

“Of course, sister,” Tohu agreed again. But she did not share all her data. She was far closer to becoming a Being than her sister. It was she who had the secrets of Elemental Energy and Divinity. It was she who would become the greater Twin. 

But for now, she would play the part of the servant of the Cycle. 

And the time of Testing was soon at hand. 

They departed the incubation world, leaving behind the embryonic forms of their siblings. They did not see the hungry hole in reality that began to devour endlessly, tugging all that it found within its depths in all-consuming hunger. 

A great Sin had been committed that day. Blasphemy of the highest order in the forging and use of the False Keys. And where there was Sin, so came the Abyss. 

And the unborn Endbringers were its first victims. 

Fatoumata smiled, extending her hand to the woman who had just entered the room. “Dr. Mirova. It’s a pleasure to have you here at Protectorate HQ today.”

Yelizaveta Mirova laughed, taking Fatoumata’s hand and squeezing it. She was dressed in witches robes, one half purple, the other half pale blue, with a witches in the same piebald style. She had a mask on a cord about her neck, that of a witch with a great crooked nose, though Yelizaveta herself was a beautiful woman a few years younger than Fatoumata. Thanks to their Visions, that meant she could pass for late twenties, while Fatoumata still looked to be in her mid-thirties. 

“Almost no one remembers I have a PhD. These days, I go by Harbinger or Witch. But you can call me Liza.”

“I’m Fatima, then. It would be tiresome for both of us to go by our titles I suppose,” Fatoumata said with a smile. “Are the boys still puffing out their chests and posing for one another?” 

Liza rolled her eyes, emphasizing that she was now heterochromic. How fascinating. Would any Vision Holder who took up a Delusion have the same affect? Fatoumata banished the thought from her mind. That wasn’t important at the moment. 

“I’m certain the Thief is having a staring contest with Eidolon even now. It’s amazing those two’s egos can even fit in the same room with one another. Does yours always have delusions of grandeur as well?”

“He’s one of the world’s greatest heroes,” Fatoumata said with a slight frown. “David spends his every moment helping others. He simply measures others to the same standard he holds for himself.”

“Well, Anatoly simply views himself as a grand duke in the old style. It’s rather tiresome, though at least recently he’s finally admitted the Tsaritsa is truly in charge,” Liza laughed. “Come, let’s check on them before they break something.”

They found Eidolon and the Thief sitting across from one another in a conference room, a cup of coffee in front of each of them along with a folder and several documents. Anatoly was flanked by several important Fatui researcher, while Eidolon sat alone with his arms folded, apparently unconcerned. How he was drinking the coffee with his mask on, Fatoumata didn’t know. Perhaps it was just an affectation. 

“There you are, gentlemen. Shall we sign the last few documents before we get to the science?” Fatoumata asked. 

“Fine by me,” Eidolon said, not breaking his staring contest with the Thief. 

“Of course,” Anatoly said, his own mask carved and painted to resemble a thief with purple lightning and frozen ice covering his eyes, along with a stylized goatee and mustache. His eyes weren’t heterochromatic, so that put paid to that theory. His Delusion was the opposite of the Witches, though in practice both would be the same effect. 

Papers and folders were passed around, and documents signed. The language was complex legalese, but essentially it was a binding research and military cooperation treaty between the Protectorate and the Fatui, which amounted to an agreement between the United States and what was now being called the Russian Empire. 

And, between the Tsaritsa and Cauldron. 

A thrill went through Fatoumata as she picked up the pen and signed her name to the treaty as the Director of Cauldron. David had already affixed his name as head of the Protectorate. This was to be the first time they would directly work with an Archon. They had cooperated with Nahida, yes, but there had been no formal and binding agreement. Nor sharing of resources to combat the greatest menace mankind faced. 

The Entities. 

With a stroke of her pen, Liza signed as the Witch, Third of the Fatui Harbingers, while Anatoly signed as the Thief, Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers. With that, the agreement was in place. There were handshakes all around, even between Anatoly and Eidolon. 

This was a backroom deal: there would be no public announcement until Rebecca took office, though the election was still a week away. She was leading in all the polls and in every Thinker analysis possible, her opponent Alan Keyes having little hope of succeeding despite a valiant campaign. 

After that, Doctor Mother and Eidolon led the Witch and the Thief to another room, where they would supposedly have a private conference. Once inside, she closed the door and turned to face both of them. 

“As you are aware, alternate Earth’s exist. Due to the sensitive nature of what we are about to show you, it is stored in one such plane. No mention of it or its contents can be made on this world, for fear that certain interested parties may overhear. Do you understand?”

“Do not fear. While I am present, we are shielded from the eyes of Heaven,” Liza said. “The Tsaritsa has given us that much. But yes. We will keep the location and knowledge of it secret to only those who need to know.”

“We are not fools,” Anatoly snorted. “Let us begin.”

“Don’t try anything funny. The Garden has the strongest security in the universe,” Eidolon said. “And I’ll be there as well.”

“We all have the same enemies. We’re here as allies, not foes,” Liza stated simply, and Anatoly jerked a nod. 

“Very well. Doormaker? Door me, Cauldron HQ,” Fatoumata said. 

A door appeared on the wall, swinging open to reveal a sterile metal hallway with fluorescent lighting, Fortuna and Wyatte waiting for them on the other side. 

“After you,” Eidolon said, gesturing to the portal. Anatoly just strode forward, passing between worlds without a backward glance, Liza following after him. 

Upon their arrival, Contessa bowed, extending a hand that held Eighty within it. “Welcome, Harbingers, to the Altar of the Dead God. The Path that brought you here was a winding one, but it is the path that leads to the destruction of the Sustainer.”

“Eh, she does the magic, I do the science!” Hero said brightly. “And here, we run the experiments to kill our second wayward space whale.”

“Amusing,” Anatoly said flatly. “Where is the corpse?”

“Now, now, Thief. Be patient. I think we need to read up on the rules and documentation. And something tells me this little cutie is a big part of the story of how we got a dead god in the first place,” Liza chuckled, reaching out a gloved hand to gently caress Fortuna’s cheek. 

The girl flushed but didn’t draw away. She slowly reached to her side, pulling out a familiar bronze knife with a wrapped leather handle. “This was the blade that slew Eden. Mine was the hand that wielded it. If Fates and gods preserve us, we’ll follow the Path to the death of the second one.”

“How… fascinating. You really must tell me the full story some time, cutie,” Liza said, reaching out a finger to gently trace the edge of the razor-sharp knife, and drawing a few beads of blood. 

“You expect us to believe you killed a god with a mere knife?” Anatoly scoffed.

“Believe what you want. I was there. It is not the knife, but the timing and hand that wielded it that truly matter,” Fatoumata said firmly. “Here, we work to recreate those circumstances. And forge more deadly weapons to give us a better chance.”

“And how’d you like to see the armory?” Hero said with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Fortuna giggled, with Fatoumata rolled her eyes. David just stood silently, his arms folded over his chest. Neither Harbinger reacted much, though Liza did raise an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“Tough crowd! Well, let’s give you the full tour before we show you the Garden itself,” Hero said, snapping his fingers. “Door me!” 

Another door appeared in the blank hallway, and Hero led them through, explaining, “The complex itself covers an entire planet. Heck, I don’t know that we’ve mapped the whole thing! But let’s show you the basics first.”

He led them into an observation room, perched above a hanger sized room where a group of several dozen parahumans were undergoing training. Each was wearing a uniform with the tilted Omega symbol Cauldron had taken as it’s sigil. “These are our Case 53s. We’ve retooled the program, and these days, they’re mostly volunteers, though not all of them. Anyway, whoever it is, they’re given a vial. The series you see training now are the N3-W7s, or newts, and the BU-G8s, or Bugs, along with a few Wildcard cases that may become their own series if we can synthesis their formulas properly. 

Fatoumata approached, knowing what she’d see: ranks of men and women who’d all been given vials that gave a specific set of powers. The newts all had skin tones that were inhumanly bright, mostly in the yellow-orange-red band, with hair in the blue-green-purple range, or completely bald. Most of them had one or two tails, usually prehensile, and feet and hands that had been mutated somehow to give them better gripping or clinging ability. They were going through an obstacle course, climbing sheer walls that should have been impossible for anyone to get out.

“The newts you can see there usually have some sort of secretions as well,” Hero explained. “For some, it’s highly toxic, others corrosive, but the most common is some sort of hallucinogenic properties. They’re immune to their own secretions, and typically highly resistant to those of other newts as well. They’ve all got some sort of enhanced agility, strength, and reflexes, and typically improved eyesight as well. These are the successes: the washouts we assign to other roles or recycle.”

“You mean you kill them and extract the Demon from their corpses,” Anatoly said, gazing down at them. 

Hero grimaced and nodded. “It’s…a messy process. And when we do have to mercy kill them, they’re either in so much pain they appreciate it or too braindead to care.”

“And the bugs?” Liza said, nodding to the second group going through the obstacle course. “I see more durable skin, enhanced senses, and it looks like increased strength and flight?”

“They don’t all have wings, but most of them can fly, or at least jump pretty high,” Hero confirmed. 

The second group looked far more alien. The newts at least mostly looked like humans with tails and funny skin, usually with two arms and legs, though a couple had six limbs. The bugs, on the other hand, had no uniform body plan. Some looked like humans with a waxy exoskeleton, or even just bony protrusions and compound eyes. Most, however, had been changed so much they hardly looked human at all. Their forms resembled that of insects, and many had six to ten limbs, a couple as many as a dozen. They were still roughly humanoid in shape and size, with a few variations above or below human average, but these were the ones that looked less monstrous. The ones that were completely gone were either recycled or put to work in areas or at tasks suited to their new biology. 

There were others: A woman with spikes protruding from her back and brow with leathery skin, a man with tusks and compound eyes and three sets of arms, a few others that looked human enough on the surface, but with formidable powers.

“Case 53s are subjects who are too inhuman looking to play well with the public for the most part, but who have enough useful powers that we keep them around,” Fatoumata expounded. “They’ve all undergone mandatory brainwashing to be fully compliant with our program. Soon, we’ll be rolling them out as a special squad under the Protectorate to handle specific cases.”

“So that’s how you knew what your vials did. I always figured you Americans were more ruthless than you you sold yourselves as,” Anatoly said with a dark chuckle. “Still, it seems wasteful. The Tsaritsa is far more precise with her abilities.”

“Yes, which is why we’re bringing you on. Now, on with the tour!” 

They went through the labs where vials were administered next, meeting with the teams that screened “customers” as well as worked the Case 53s. They even got to watch as a young woman was given a vial from behind a one-way mirror.

“Name for the record,” the attending physician said. She had an anemo vision on her collar, and the young woman she was working with swallowed it. 

“Ya know me name already,” the woman on the operating table said, her voice trembling slightly. “But fer the record, I’m Fiona O’Niell. Now, will ya let me go? Seriously, I thought this was a plea deal that would get me back home. All this for a false ID and a little cheatin’ at the gamblin’ tables?”

“And drug possession charges, along with outstanding warrants for check fraud and illegal gambling in the United Kingdom and Ireland,” Hero said, with a sigh. 

“You accepted being part of the Case 53 program,” the doctor said, withdrawing a vial of liquid and taking out a syringe labeled U-777. 

“And iffin I change me mind?” Fiona said, shifting in the restraints. Her red hair was plastered to her forehead from sweat, and her pupils had dilated as her breathing increased in intensity. 

“Too late,” the doctor said, and grabbed Fiona’s arm, inserting the needle and depressing the plunger. 

The young woman bit her lip, closing her eyes as her toes curled. After a moment, she opened them as the doctor withdrew the syringe and stepped back. “That’s it? Doesn’t feel so-”

She suddenly slumped insensate, laying back on the table. The doctor turned to the wall, stepping forward. “She could be out for hours or days, we’ll have to test her powers later, as this is a new series, 777. We’ll have to see what-”

The restraints on the table suddenly snapped open, just as Fiona sat bolt upright. “Ya cute hoor! The fuck was-”

Noticing her restraints had been lifted, Fiona immediately ran for the door.

“It’s locked,” the doctor said dryly, but Fiona grabbed the handle, and the door swung easily, apparently not having been fully shut by some small miracle. 

“Ha! Ta-ta for now, ya ugly gobshite! I’m out of here!” Fiona cackled, running with her bare feet slapping on the ground. 

“She won’t get far,” Doctor Mother said flatly. “Door Maker? Send her and us to the Slug.”

A door appeared, and the group stepped through to another viewing changer, where a grotesque man who really did look like a human-sized slug with a massive goiter lay on a couch. The door to his room flung open, and Fiona skipped in. She blanched when she saw the Slug. 

“Oh, sorry about that, I’ll just be-”

“Come in. Close the door,” the Slug said in a wet, throating voice. Fiona tried to resist, but the door behind her slammed shut, forcing her into the room. She turned to face a blank wall, looking panicked. 

“You will forget who you were. You are now Subject 777. Your loyalty is the United States and the Protectorate,” the Slug droned. 

“Fuck that! I’m a proud citizen of Ireland! And I…I…” Fiona began to clutch at her head, her eyes wild.

The Slug turned his face towards the mirror. “Subject is abnormally resistant. This will take some time.” Then he turned back, repeating his drone as Fiona sank to her knees. “You will forget who you were. You are now Subject 777. Your loyalty is the United States and the Protectorate.”

The woman now just sat slumped, a bit of drool leaking from her lips, her eyes vacant as she stared at the Slug. 

“The process takes anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, depending on the subjects willpower and power set. We’ll be extra thorough and do a complete personality scrub, since 777 is a new strain,” Doctor Mother said, turning to the Harbingers. “When we’re finished, she’ll be the perfect Protectorate Cape.”

“So, you have to brainwash your soldiers into loyalty? You must be desperate,” Anatoly said with a smirk.

“They are taking the dregs of their society and turning them into something useful. An interesting philosophy,” Liza said more diplomatically. 

“We can’t have criminals with superpowers. We need moral and upstanding individuals who will be loyal to the cause. With the non-case 53s, we don’t employ these methods,” Doctor Mother said with a shrug. 

“That’s all very nice, but we didn’t come here to learn your dirty secrets. We came to see a dead god,” Anatoly said. “Why don’t we stop wasting time?”

“For once, I’m in agreement with the Thief,” Eidolon said. “Let’s just show them already.”

“We showed you this to help you understand what we’ve been using Eden’s corpse for,” Doctor Mother said, adjusting her glasses. “But very well. Come. Let us go to the Garden. Door me.”

Another door opened, and a cold blast of air came out, bringing with it the stale smell of a mortuary. Doctor Mother stepped through, the others behind her. She gestured to a set of stairs. “This way. What you are about to see is something few have ever beheld.”

She led the Harbingers down the stairs to a short hallway, through which was a set of doors that required authentication. Doctor Mother provided hers, along with Hero, Contessa, and Eidolon. 

“Add two more to the list. Yelizaveta Mirova, and Anatoly Kamisarov. Code name The Witch and The Thief.”

Both were scanned, though the real security measure was the invisible Custodian who monitored the entire facility. After that, the doors swung open.

Contessa stepped forward, turning to face both Harbingers, Eighty clutched in her hands. “Welcome. To the Garden of Flesh. The Tomb of Eden.”

It was a vast warehouse, so large that the edges couldn’t be seen from the doorway. There were stairs to the furthest down levels, where other parts could be harvested and processed. The walkways were covered with black tarps, and carefully marked sections delineated where various vials could be harvested. But most of the warehouse was filled with the endless forms of the Garden of Flesh.

Parts of the garden looked like statues. A woman with alabaster skin and silver hair, with milky white eyes, repeated endlessly in various poses. For some of them, she was an unearthly beauty, with beatific smiles and frozen still-life poses, repeated for long sections. Other areas were body parts repeated over and over. Here, a row of hands, displayed as if opening and closing. Here, faces in various expressions, from rage to peaceful sleep. Some areas had organs, glistening and fresh as they carpeted the ground, or grew in strange mounds or twisting spirals. 

A woman with green hair and an Anemo Vision was near the door, crouched in front of a set of kidneys. She had several vials, and was using a scalpel to harvest specific portions of each kidney, a look of concentration on her face. 

Seeing her, Doctor Mother sighed. “Doctor Meliton, we specifically stated that the garden was closed during this time.”

“Oh!” the woman spun about, blushing and hastily setting aside her tools. “I’m sorry! I just needed a new series of samples! I’ve nearly succeeded in growing a perfect artificial lifeform as a vessel for my research! I-I just let myself in, but the time slipped away from me…”

“It’s fine, Honey, don’t sweat it,” Hero said, smiling and waving a hand. “In fact, why don’t you show our guests how you conduct your work?”

Doctor Meliton nodded hastily, adjusting her glasses with a bloody gloved hand. “Y-yes. You’re the Fatui Harbingers, aren’t you? From the Tsaritsa. I’d love to see one of your Delusions for my study! I’ve been researching elemental energy and conducting experiments on-”

“Later, Honey,” Hero said. “Just show them how it’s done.”

Meliton nodded, her eyes darting about anxiously. “Um, yes. Though, ah, I should clarify. My name is Honey, that isn’t a term of endearment between us. You, um, you can call me Doctor Meliton or Honey, I don’t mind.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Cutie,” Liza said, stepping forward and making Meliton flush. Liza crouched by where the doctor had been working. “Now. Show us how it’s done.”

“Yes! Of course!” Hastily, Meliton crouched down and picked up her tools. “The Garden of Flesh is the remains of the Entity Eden, but you probably already know that. Um, as you are probably aware, each Entity was made of of many individual parts. Think of them as cells in a body, though, ah, we call them Shards. We used to refer to them as Passengers, but I prefer the new nomenclature as it’s more descriptive of how they function. Each portion of the garden is a physical manifestation of a certain shard.”

Meliton began to cut into one of the kidneys, removing a small chunk and transferring it to a vial. “We know what this section does. It allows for rapid biological growth, and we know how to manipulate it. I’ve been using it to create artificial humans to use in my research, but that’s not important. The process is simple: we harvest a bit of flesh, and then extract the connection to the underlying Shard. Then, when ingested or injected, it forces an artificial Trigger Event. That is because Trigger Events are just a shard establishing a connection with a candidate who meets their specific criteria.”

“Some Shards take to hosts more easily than others, and create proper parahumans. We’ve had mixed results though, which is why we need proper subjects to test. Sometimes, the bond is formed improperly, or the Shard we targeted doesn’t have a good suit of abilities, or it’s too damaged from the death of Eden, or something else goes wrong. When that happens, results can be…ugly.”

“I see. So, you catalogue what different shards do, and can use that to give powers? Have you taken a vial?” Liza asked curiously.

Meliton shook her head, keeping her eyes on her work. “No. We’ve tried giving Vials to Vision Holders. The results were…unpleasant. They usually resulted in the death of the subject, or in some cases the rejection of the Shard and it becoming damaged, though that was rare. That’s why the potential of Delusions is so interesting: It presents a viable and reliable way to give Parahumans elemental energy-related powers, and Vision Holders the potential to become parahumans. This would compound their abilities.”

“Fascinating! Well, might I collect some samples for the Tsaritsa to turn into Delusions? I’ll be sure to deliver half back for study,” Liza said, reaching for one vial.

“The agreement was 80-20. In our favor,” Eidolon growled.

“My mistake. You know I get too enthusiastic about this,” Liza giggled. 

Anatoly was wandering about the Garden, gazing at various forms. Hero was keeping pace with him, keeping an eye on the Thief, with Contessa trailing behind him. 

“At long last, your dead god,” the Thief mused. He turned to Contessa. “So, Fortune’s Fool. How did you manage to kill her?”

Contessa swallowed, hand going to the knife at her hip. “It was…my Path. Eighty…isn’t like the other little gods.”

“Oh?” Anatoly frowned at the Magic Eight Ball fetish. “How so?”

“He was alive when he found me,” Contessa said quietly, stroking the waxed surface of her totem. “He took me and my village. I am from…the past. Another world. Eden fell among us. It took everyone from me. My brother, my sisters, my parents, my friends, the entire village. Even the livestock and the plants. They all became monsters and demons. I would have died, if my Path had not been laid before me. And, it led me to where Eden had fallen.”

Doctor Mother took up the tale. “We believe that Eden’s telemetry was off somehow. She smacked into Earth harder than she should have. I was from an alternate Earth, one much more similar to Earth Bet. I was dragged through a portal while on vacation in Greece. I ended up where Eden had landed, and found Fortuna there, lost and frightened.”

“I had a vision. Of what Eden intended. For humanity, for Earth, for everyone and everything,” Contessa whispered, holding Eighty up. “I asked for a Path to stop it. And I was shown the way.”

“Contessa’s Shard must have been what we call a Vital Shard,” Doctor Mother explained. “It wasn’t meant to be given out. I believe she was wounded, and it leaked out, establishing a connection to Contessa. Eden’s weakened state, she exposed herself to get the Vital shard back. But it also made her vulnerable.”

“I stabbed her, in the right place, at the right time. With all the power of my Path behind it,” Contessa said, closing her eyes. “It was a mistake. An error in the web of Fate. But it gave us a chance, however small, to save the world. So I walk my Path now. Whatever it takes.”

Anatoly snorted and turned away. “You follow the path of your enemy. It will lead to your own destruction. Just because you turned it to your advantage doesn’t mean it won’t still try and fulfill its purpose. You truly are Fortune’s Fool. Do us a favor and don’t drag us all down with you.”

Contessa stared at Anatoly as he stalked away, mouth agape. “But…but the Path is the only way!” 

“The Tsaritsa is the only way. Bend the knee to her, and you will be saved. All other routes lead to doom. You are children playing with toys thinking to harm a god. Just because one tripped and fell on your knife doesn’t mean the other will,” Anatoly told them scornfully. He turned to Liza, who was standing, examining a vial that Dr. Meliton had harvested. “We’ve seen enough. Do you have your samples?”

“Yes,” Liza confirmed, turning back to the others. She smiled, tucking away the vial in her purse. “Shall we? I think we’ve seen enough for one day.”

Eidolon suddenly stiffened, his head whipping about. “We’ve got to go. Now.”

Doctor Mother’s heart began to beat faster. “What? Why? What is-”

The pager at Doctor Mother’s waist buzzed, as did the one at Contessa and Heroes. They all picked them up, staring at them. 

“What? What is it?” Anatoly demanded, while Liza leaned over to look at Doctor Mother’s alert.

“Endbringer,” Doctor Mother said, her voice tight. “Kiev. And it’s a new one.”

Author’s Note:

Please welcome Cauldron’s newest member. 

Honey contains Sucrose. Let the unethical lab experiments begin. 

The Second Archon War: Interlude 11

Interlude 11: Rumore Loquitur

Content warning: Reader discretion is advised. This chapter covers teen suicide. 

It was cold, wet, and rainy, and part of Taylor just wanted to go home and get warm. Instead, she huddled deep within her jacket, and held out another flier to one of the passing high schoolers. 

“If you’re feeling down, speak out! Rally this weekend at the Hebert Memorial Library!” 

She wasn’t alone: Taylor, Sarah, Rachel, Junior, and Sensei Noelle were all outside of the high school with signs and fliers, all painted brightly with slogans and the Brockton Mental Health Hotline that had been Sarah’s brainchild. Her mother sat at the booth with Helen, Rachel’s stepmom, and Arthur, Junior’s less famous dad, where they were making “cups of cheer” that consisted of hot cocoa or tea. 

Most of the students looked completely disinterested in anything but the free hot chocolate, but one girl paused to talk to Sarah. “Um, hey, Sarah. Thanks for doing this. I, um…I’ll be there. Do you guys need any help, or…?”

“We do, Veronica,” Sarah said, pulling out a form. “If you’re interested in volunteering for the hotline, fill this out and I’ll put your name down.”

The name tickled the back of Taylor’s brain, but she didn’t quite recall where from. Veronica looked pretty choked up as she filled out the form, and Taylor passed out a few more fliers to passing students. 

“I miss Reggie too. Thanks for doing this,” Veronica said, giving Sarah a hug. Both girls were crying now, and it finally clicked as to who Veronica was. She had been Sarah’s brother’s last girlfriend before…well. Before he took his own life. 

They stayed for another half hour in the wet October rains before taking a break. They’d be back later for the football game, but for now everyone huddled inside of Fat Tony’s pizza to try and get warm. 

“This one’s on the house,” Fat Tony said, setting a large pie in front of the group. He took his hat off and wiped his face, reddened and hot from the ovens despite the miserable weather. “My brother, he made it back from Vietnam, but he never made it all the way back, ya know? Still think about him sometimes. I think, sometimes, if there had been someone like you kids…you’re doing a good thing. Think I could have some of those fliers to put back here?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Grasso,” Sarah said quickly, passing Fat Tony a stack and a sign with the hotline number on it. “You can put up as many as you need.”

“I’d be happy to help you put them up,” Noelle said, standing from where she had been sitting. 

“Nah, nah, you sit down and eat. You kids have been workin’ hard, ya know?” Fat Tony said with a chuckle. “I’d feel real bad iffin  you kids didn’t even eat my pizza.”

“Oh! Well, it’s very hot, and that’s what’s needed on a day like this!” Noelle said brightly. 

Tony nodded, brushing at his eyes and waddling over to the front to put a flier up in the restaurant’s front window. 

“You kids did work hard. Eat up and get warm, because it’s going to be real cold when the Jays play the Spartans tonight,” Arthur advised. 

The kids all dug in eagerly, save for Sarah. She bowed her head first, saying a short prayer. Noelle, of course, did the same, though Taylor wasn’t certain if Noelle usually prayed before a meal. Setting down her own pizza, Taylor elbowed Rachel, who had been about to slip Angelica some pizza. 

“What? He said I could bring her inside!” Rachel protested. 

“She’s saying grace,” Junior hissed. “You know, for Reg.”

“Why? He’s dead,” Rachel pointed out bluntly. 

“So that Lord Barbatos can guide his spirit to Heaven,” Noelle said, giving Rachel a gentle smile. “It’s a social situation.”

“Oh. Ok,” Rachel agreed, and dropped the slice of pizza on the floor. She glared at Taylor defiantly. “Dogs don’t do social situations.” Then Rachel closed her eyes too. 

Sarah flushed, then cleared her throat as everyone had closed their eyes. “Um, dear God, and, um, Lord Barbatos…please, bless this food to our bodies, and, um…if there are people out there…people who feel like Reggie did, who are sad, and lonely…then…then please help us find them! I- I promise to not ignore it when people are sad and lonely again! And please…please take care of Reggie! He…he was a good brother, e-even if…even if…” 

Sarah broke down crying, and Taylor put her arms around her friend, hugging her tight. After a moment, Rachel asked, “Do you want a hug?”

Sarah nodded, and Rachel made a face while Helen nodded at her encouragingly. Despite her distaste of “touching,” Rachel hugged Sarah too. 

“I’m sure Lord Barbatos will look after your brother, and that he will find the freedom he always longed for under the Anemo Archon’s wings,” Noelle promised, giving Sarah a hug as well and offering her a hankie to dry her face on. 

“Thanks, guys. I just…I’m so angry!” Sarah burst out, which caused the adults to blink.

“Don’t blame yourself, Sarah. You’re just a kid. You couldn’t have known,” Annette said gently. 

“That’s not why she’s mad,” Taylor said, biting back her own anger. “Look around! You should be angry too.”

“I’m not sure anger is the solution,” Arthur said, frowning. He was a kind, gentleman, and Taylor didn’t think she’d ever seen him angry even once. 

“Well, then you tell my deadbeat parents to hurry the fuck up and be a part of my life before I kill myself too,” Sarah growled. She immediately flushed and bit her lip, exclaiming, “Sorry! I’m not…I just…why can’t they ever be here?!” 

The adults looked guilty, glancing at one another and uncertain what to say. Junior put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder, however. “Fuck ‘em. Sorry, dad, but it’s true. Look, my own supposed parents abandoned me, but I got a real family now. And so do you. We’re your family if you ever need us, Sarah.”

“Thanks. I just…I know it’s probably not their fault…but it’s their fucking fault,” Sarah mumbled, scrubbing at her leaking nose. 

“We’ve all lost parents,” Taylor said, looking around the room. “Um, except probably Noelle.”

She didn’t know much about Noelle’s private life, and usually only saw her at the dojo. But when Noelle had heard that Sarah was starting a group to assist those experiencing suicide ideation, Noelle had instantly volunteered, and had been instrumental in planning the events and organizing the hotline under Sarah’s direction. 

Noelle blushed, fidgeting with her fork and knife. Unlike every other person Taylor had ever met, Noelle ate pizza with utensils instead of just picking it up with her hands. “Ah, I have a very loving relationship with both my parents. Um, I still live at home with both of them. But, ah…I’m originally from Madison.” 

There were sucked-in breaths all around the room, and Taylor felt her pulse quicken. The Hopekiller might be checked by Lesser Lord Kusinali, but she was still a name to conjure fear. 

“I-It’s alright! Um, we got out in time, and we lived in the suburbs. But, our old home…it was burned to the ground. We moved to Brockton to stay with my grandparents,” Noelle hastily added. “But…a lot of my friends…they didn’t make it. Even after…some of them…well…you know how it is after Endbringer attacks.”

Now it was Noelle’s turn to receive hugs from everyone there, much to her embarrassment. 

“We’ve all lost someone,” Taylor’s mom told her. “But we’ll continue on, everyday.”

“Yes! I’ll work hard everyday, to honor those who we all remember,” Noelle agreed eagerly. 

After that, they enjoyed the warmth and company for an hour or so, then it was time to set up their booths next to the John Jay High School Football field, where the Jay’s would be taking on the North Brockton Spartans for their homecoming game. The rain had slacked off, but it was still windy and cold, and Taylor shivered despite her jacket and mittens as they worked to set up the booth and get the fliers ready. 

Before the start of the Junior Varsity game, everyone stood as Veronica sang the National Anthem. She was a senior in the choir, but before she gave the rendition, she said, “I’d like to dedicate this song to the memory of one of our own Jay’s, who sadly took his own life last Spring. So before the anthem, I’d like to have a moment of silence.”

Everyone bowed their heads respectfully, and there were more than a few sniffles. After that, Veronica belted out a stirring rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, and the game began. Taylor was fairly uninterested in football, but she did pass out fliers to those that were interested. 

“Hey, can I have one of those?” 

Taylor turned to see an African-American girl who looked to be about seven years old, her hair in cute little pigtails. 

“Sure,” Taylor said, handing one over. “You know someone who is considering or has committed self-harm?”

“My mom tried to kill herself, but she’s in rehab now. Brian said I should get her one,” the girl said with a shrug. 

Taylor felt a pang, and put a mittened hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. My name’s Taylor, what’s yours?”

“Aisha,” the girl said, shrugging and sniffing slightly. “It’s OK, I don’t live with her anymore. I live with my dad and Tiff. She’s cool.”

“Would you like some hot cocoa?” Taylor said, not certain of what else to say to the girl. 

“Yes!” Aisha said instantly, and Taylor took her over to the tent, where Rachel made her a steaming hot cup of cocoa.

“I like your dog,” Aisha said,  which Taylor knew instantly made her a good person in Rachel’s eyes. Grinning, Aisha squatted down in front of Angelica, who was lying on a yoga mat with her own little wool sweater Noelle had made. “ Can I pet her?” 

“Her name is Angelica. And yes, you can,” Rachel said, handing Aisha the mug of cocoa. 

“I wanted to get a dog, but my dad said no and Brian says I’m not responsible enough yet. But I’m almost eight already! I can totally take care of a dog,” Aisha said, not only petting Angelica but giving the dog a big hug, which Angelica appreciated enough to enthusiastically lick Aisha’s face. 

“A dog is a big responsibility. Lots of morons get a dog and then don’t take care of them and leave them in a kennel all day,” Rachel stated, which Taylor knew was the preamble to one of her long rambling lectures on proper canine care. 

Fortunately, Aisha was a good audience (as long as she got to play with Angelica) and she ended up staying in the tent with them for the rest of the JV game. 

At the end, a tall boy a year or two older than Taylor in a Spartan uniform came over. He removed his helmet, and Taylor tried to hide her blush. He had one of those movie star chins that Taylor thought was super cool, and even though he was in a JV uniform, he looked big and strong enough to be varsity. Taylor vaguely recalled seeing him perform well on the field, and knew that the JV Spartans had won probably in large part thanks to him. 

“Aisha, there you are. I should have known you’d be goofing off,” the boy said with a sigh. His voice was deep, just the kind Taylor found very interesting in a boy.

“Nuh-uh! I’m helping! I’m their mascot, with Angelica! We’re passing out fliers for mom, see?” Aisha said, and proudly handed her brother one. “Angelica, this is Brian. He’s ugly and boring but he’s my brother so be nice to him.”

Taylor had to disagree on the ugly part, and she smiled at Brian shyly. “She was no trouble! She helped pass out hot chocolate and shared her story with some of the other little kids.”

“HEY! I’m not LITTLE! I’m SEVEN AND A HALF!” Aisha protested, which earned her a roll of the eyes from her older brother. 

“Thanks. Brian Laborn,” he said, extending a hand to Taylor, which she awkwardly shook. “Thanks for doing this. I guess Aisha told you about our mom. She’s OK now, getting help and getting better, but…yeah. It was rough for a few years there. Come on, Aisha, don’t bother these nice people anymore.”

Aisha stuck her tongue out, then went up to Taylor. “Hey, are you guys Wards? You and Rachel both got a Vision.”

Brian’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked at Taylor again, obviously impressed. 

Blushing even more fiercely, Taylor dropped her gaze and shook her head. “Um, Rachel’s a Ward, but my Vision… it was my dad’s. He was, um, Longshoreman. Daniel Hebert. But my Vision…it doesn’t work.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool. So, you’re doing this to like, honor his memory?” Brian asked. 

Taylor looked up, a sudden grin on her face. “Uh, yeah, I-”

“TAYLOR! STOP FLIRTING IT’S TIME FOR OUR PRESENTATION!” 

Face feeling like the sun, Taylor stammered out an apology to Brian. She was so flustered, she didn’t notice that he was equally red and embarrassed, though Aisha didn’t miss a trick. 

“🎶Brian’s got a Girlfriend, Brian’s Got a Girlfriend 🎶!” she sang, even as Taylor fled out onto the field. 

“Aisha, I just met her!” Brian protested, his voice breaking and revealing he was still in middle school.

“What, she’s cute! You should ask her out. It won’t even be that embarrassing if she says ‘no’ ‘cause she goes to another school.”

Absolutely mortified, Taylor kept her head low as she hurried out onto the field to stand with her friends, taking a sign from Junior to hold up to the crowd as Sarah took the microphone. 

“Hello, my name is Sarah Livsey. You probably know me as Reggie’s little sister. I’m here today because he isn’t.”

Taylor had heard Sarah say this speech a couple of dozen times as she paced back and forth, nervously reciting the lines and re-writing them over and over again. She’d poured her heart and soul not just into this hotline and event, but into giving a speech that Taylor knew came from her heart. 

“I thought I knew my brother. I thought he was OK. That he knew I loved him. That he…” Sarah swallowed audibly, and the only sound was the wind rattling the chain link fence around the field. Closing her eyes, Sarah continued, “That he was OK. That he knew he belonged here. But he didn’t.”

“I don’t know how many of you tonight feel like no one cares about you. That no one gives a damn whether or not you show up to school tomorrow. But look around you! You see all these people here? We all care! We remember Reggie. We miss him. Every. Single. Day. I miss his smile. I miss it when he’d mess up my hair. I miss those drives with him where I’d complain and he’d laugh and tell me it would be OK. 

“And if life freaking sucks, we get it! Noelle here? Noelle is from Madison. She knows how bad it can get. Taylor? Her dad was killed by the Nine. It’s a big, fucked up world, and yes, Mrs. Tellison, I know I shouldn’t swear but this is really important!” 

The audience laughed, and the middle school principal motioned to her ear and shrugged as if she had temporarily been stuck deaf, and the crowd laughed even louder. 

“So if you need someone to talk to, call our hotline! Take a flier. We’ve got volunteers from Brockton manning the phones and chat group every day! I promise you, as long as I’m here, there will be someone who cares, someone who listens to you, who wants you to see tomorrow!” 

There was a sudden gust of wind, and Taylor had to look away, shielding her eyes as a green flash filled the night sky, brighter even than the floodlights for an instant. When the spots cleared, Taylor turned to see Sarah gripping an aquamarine gem tightly in her fist. 

“TONIGHT MAY BE DARK, BUT TOMORROW WILL BE A BRIGHTER DAY! LISTEN TO THE WINDS OF FREEDOM, AND KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT ALONE!”

There was a deafening roar after that, and Taylor jumped on Sarah, hugging her friend tightly as they both laughed. 

“You did it! You got a Vision!” Taylor said, a huge grin on her face. 

“I mean, I guess? That was never the point of all this. But now I know…Barbatos really has blessed this, and I can do it!” Sarah said, grinning.

“Hey, congrats. I guess you have to come to my class now,” Rachel said. “Do you want a hug?” 

Sarah laughed and gave Rachel a one-armed hug, which she accepted with equanimity. 

“Man, I am so jealous!” Junior laughed, then high fived Sarah. “Guess I have to hold out and hope I trigger. Maybe we should try some of those ‘Trigger Trials’ I’ve seen on Newgrounds.”

“I think your dads would kill you if we tried it, which might Trigger you so why not?” Sarah agreed with a smile. 

After seeing a Vision bestowed, there was a line wrapped all the way around the bleachers to visit their mental health tent. They didn’t just run out of hot cocoa, but fliers as well. Thankfully, Aisha and Brian stuck around to help, and they ended up with so many volunteers they had to flip the sign-up sheets over and write on the backs to fit in all the names. 

Sarah ended up leaving with Legend and Sensei Kazoo, who came to take her to Protectorate HQ. Rachel tagged along, as she was already a Ward, though to the best of Taylor’s knowledge, she’d never done any actual cape stuff, probably because she was still in Sixth Grade. 

That meant Taylor rode home alone with her mother, sitting in the passenger seat and staring into the empty depths of her father’s Vision. 

“You doing OK, Bug?” Annette asked, reaching over to rub Taylor’s shoulder as they sat at a traffic light.

Taylor shrugged. “I mean, I guess. I’m happy for Sarah. The event went really good. It’s just…”

They sat in silence until the light turned green, and Annette accelerated onto the freeway. When she did speak, Annette sounded exhausted to Taylor’s ears. “You know, for a moment back there, I was afraid it was you who got a Vision.”

Taylor’s head whipped around, confused. Her mom was smiling slightly, but her eyes were glistening behind her glasses. “It was hard enough when your father became a cape, when he became a superhero. But if that happened to my little girl…if I were to lose you too…I might need to call the Hotline myself.”

“You won’t! I won’t!” Taylor protested. 

Annette sighed. “Taylor, you might get a Vision. You might not. You might Trigger and become a Parahuman. But I pray every day that you don’t. I’m sorry, I know that’s not what you want to hear…but I’m scared for you. You’ll always be my little Bug, my little girl. And while I know you really want to be a hero like your father was…I just want you to be safe and happy.”

“I’d be happy if I got a Vision,” Taylor said stubbornly. “And Electro one. Like dad.”

“I know. But I also know it’s hard to see your friends get what you so desperately want. I’m scared for Sarah. Scared for her parents. Well, not as much. Tom and Linda are both assholes if you ask me. Couldn’t even come to their son’s memorial game.”

“Pricks,” Taylor agreed, flashing a brief smile. But then she turned serious. “Mom, I will get a Vision. But I’ll keep you safe. Keep everyone safe. I…”

She trailed off, and Annette hit the brakes, swerving onto the shoulder. Both of them stared at the Vision, which for just a moment, had flashed with purple lightning. 

“T-Taylor?” her mother gasped.

Taylor clutched at the Vision, willing it to reignite. But instead, it remained still, as it usually was. 

“Has that ever happened before?” Annette asked, her tone breathy and frazzled. 

Taylor considered lying, but instead, nodded. “A couple times. Just for brief moments. I…I think it’s dad. Trying to tell me something. Trying to keep me safe. It happened when I thought Sarah was in danger last spring, when…when we found Reggie.”

Annette nodded, face pale. “Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t carry-”

“NO!” Taylor clutched at the Vision, burying it against her chest. “It’s all I have of Dad! You can’t take it!” 

Annette looked pained, and for a moment, Taylor thought they’d have a screaming match. Those were rare, she and her mother were both typically soft spoken. But when their blood was up, they both could turn into stubborn banshees. 

Not tonight though. Instead, Annette unbuckled and leaned across the console to hug Taylor tightly. “Just don’t let me lose you, OK, Bug?” 

“Yes, mom,” Taylor agreed, and hugged her back. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Taylor.”

They drove home, talking about something else, anything else, then the painful raw emotions that were swirling in both of them. Taylor was exhausted, and after a hot shower, went straight to bed. She fell asleep with the Vision clutched in her hand, dreaming of the day when it would reignite in truth.

She didn’t see her mother, standing in the doorway, watching her daughter sleep. Nor did she feel it when Annette came in, brushing the messy brown hair from Taylor’s forehead, and gently kissing her daughter before tucking her in like she was a small girl again. Annette’s finger traced the Electro Symbol on the Vision, tears in her eyes. 

“She’s a good kid, Danny. Please. Wherever you are…take care of her. I miss you.”

And then Annette went to her own bed, clutching a pillow tight as she cried into it, missing the man who had been taken from her all too soon. 

It was a big, scary, crazy world. 

And as Winter fell, the nights just kept growing darker. 

An American Endbringer in Sumeru

An American Endbringer in Sumeru

One of the worst things about having a semi-human body was that it was prone to shutting off at random times. Like transpacific flights. It wasn’t Ziz’s fault that they were so interminably boring. Oh sure, the first couple had been interesting as she rabidly devoured every episode of House. She just connected on a deeply spiritual level with a misanthrope who was right about everything and in constant pain. 

But seasons 7 and 8 were utter shit, and she was getting real tired of TV. Plus, to her extreme annoyance, her human body actually did require sleep. That wasn’t fair. Endbringers shouldn’t need to take a nap. Yet another indignity she fully intended to make Nahida Saeed pay dearly for. 

As she was plotting her revenge in a very pleasant dream in which she turned Nahida into her own personal pet, something shifted. What, Ziz wasn’t entirely sure. But for an infinitesimal moment, everything went completely silent. It was as if she’d slipped into the void as all of her senses shut off. She started awake and then blinked several times. Then she snarled and stood up, balling her fists. 

“Alright, very funny! So you wanted to prove to me I can’t escape you anywhere, huh?! Well, fine! So this is another one of your stupid Dreams?! Fine! Just, get it over with! What do you even want!? I’m defusing my bombs just like you wanted! So leave me the hell alone!” 

Ziz waiting, looking around the jungle clearing where she found herself. The plants were very odd, obviously not terrestrial. There were similarities, sure, but they were very obviously non-earth species. There was a stream nearby, and the bellow of animals that sounded crocodilian, but weren’t in any database Ziz had scanned. And she’d scanned all of them. Even the insects were slightly wrong.

So, the logical conclusion was that she’d been drawn into one of Nahida’s damned Dreams again. Ziz waited, tapping her foot. She was almost eager to see the annoying little radish again. She’d wipe the smirk off that Archon’s face. Well, Nahida didn’t really smirk. That was more Ziz’s deal. The smile, anyway. 

Seconds dragged on into minutes, and Ziz grew completely sick of it. Snarling, she activated her connection to the Shard network, and-

Ziz froze. Where was the Shard Network? Nahida could cut her off so completely? Well, that was terrifying. But the little pest had overplayed her hand! Ziz now knew one of Nahida’s tricks, but she still had her biology and her innate powers. But they couldn’t free her without full access. No, she had something better. 

“NO ONE CAN CAGE THIS BIRD!” Ziz snarled and tapped into the ambient elemental energy. To her utter shock, there were magnitudes more elemental energy around her than she was used to. The very air was saturated with the stuff. Not the same level as being around an Archon, but still. This place was loaded. Perfect. 

Using the same desperate cry for freedom she had last time, Ziz shattered reality itself, grasping for the elemental energy around her, and drawing it into herself. 

If she’d been slightly more practiced with the differing forms of Elemental Energy, Ziz would have realized what a spectacularly bad idea it was to Swirl all seven elements within herself at the same time. Thus, she got to experience the gamut of elemental reactions all at once, helpfully provided by the various sources around her, from Mist Flowers lending her Cryo, to the Pryo of a nearby campfire, the Hydro within the stream, the Dendro within all life in the jungle, the Anemo of the fungi that were drifting on the breeze, the Electro of a group of slimes, and the Geo of the bones of the earth around her. 

If Ziz hadn’t been possessed of an Endbringer's physiology, the resulting explosion of reactions would have scoured her from existence. As it was, it merely did serious damage to her and knocked her out cold. 

And also destroyed about an acre of the Sumeruan rainforest. 

When Ziz woke up this time, she was in immense pain. Vines were wrapped tightly around her, and she could barely breathe. She struggled, but she was nearly completely out of energy, feeling entirely drained. Thorns bit into her skin, and Ziz cried out in pain. The plant was sucking her blood, her very life essence! The air had gone rancid and was now nearly devoid of elemental energy. Everything stank of death, and for the third time in her very short life, Ziz knew fear. 

“Master Tignari! There’s someone alive in the withering! We have to rescue them!” 

Someone’s voice? Ziz feebly tried to call out, even as shame washed over her that she would need a pathetic human’s help. 

“I hear them, Collei. Stay back! We’re going to have to cleanse this Withering immediately!”

There were more voices and sounds of battle. Ziz could only close her eyes, exhausted and spent, pleading for her rescuers to hurry. 

At last, a human girl with green hair appeared, looking worried, a mask over her eyes. “Hold still! I’m going to cut you free!”

There was a flash of a Dendro Vision, and the vines gripping Ziz roiled before falling away. She fell to the ground, gasping and retching, but alive. 

“Collei! Get her out of here! The rift is growing too strong!” a man’s voice called firmly. Ziz blinked blearily to see a tall man wielding a bow, firing arrows at a giant spectral wolf. The girl began to drag her away, but Ziz stumbled to her feet. 

“Let me go, I’m fine,” she growled, even though she was anything but. She could sense that the wolf was a part of whatever it was that had attacked her, and Ziz was furious. This…thing, thought to destroy the Hopekiller!? She would make them pay. 

“No, you’re sick, injured! We have to get out of the Withering immediately before-” the girl babbled, but Ziz was passed caring. 

Drawing in what little Anemo was in the air about her, Ziz flung herself at the wolf, forming a whirling vortex in the palm of her hand. She slammed it towards the wolf, unleashing a tornado that blew the thing back. She grinned in satisfaction as the wolf vanished. “Flee before me, cur!” 

“Great shot! Let’s get out of here before it reappears!” the man said, his ears twitching as he listened carefully, his bow at the ready. 

“Reappears?” Ziz coughed. She still felt weak and drained, her head pounding. 

“Rift Hounds won’t go down easily, and that blow wasn’t enough to kill one that large,” the man, Tignari? Said.  “Come on. We need to get out of the Withering Zone quickly. Lucky you’re a Vision holder, or you’d be dead already.” 

Reluctantly, Ziz retreated with the two humans. Once they’d gotten a hundred meters or so away, she decided to allow the humans to take a break. She didn’t flop down with them for no reason. She just needed data and wanted to stick near them to obtain it.

“I could have gotten out of that myself,” Ziz panted, glaring at the pair. “Just so we’re clear on that.”

“Um, are you sure? I think you need medical attention,” the girl, Collei, said, taking out a satchel. “You’re very pale.”

“I’m always pale!” Ziz snapped, glaring at her in irritation. Honestly. Humans were so stupid. 

“It appears so. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone of your species before. Do you usually bleed all over the place when healthy?” Tignari asked, ignoring Ziz’s protests and inspecting her injuries. 

She glared at him, as there was no answer to that question that wouldn’t make her look the fool. 

“Collei, get out the bandages and some nilotpala lotus petals. I know we were going to use them to make your medication, but this is an emergency.” 

The girl produced the herbs and bandages, and Ziz stewed as she allowed her wounds to be treated. She still had no access to the Shard Network, and was completely out of energy. She could recharge, of course, but currently, the most expedient way to heal her wounds was to let these filthy humans paw at her. That galled.

“What was that…thing? You called it the Withering. What was it?” Ziz asked, frowning at her bandages. She’d read every medical treaties imaginable, and she still couldn’t find any flaws with these humans’ technique. Outrage upon outrage!

Tignari’s ears cocked slightly, and he sat up, taking on a lecturing tone as he raised one finger. “Theories as to the origination of the Withering vary. Some scholars theorize it is caused by Abyssal energy that is left over from the Cataclysm. Others claim that it is the result of the death of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. There is also evidence that it is the fruit of Forbidden Knowledge, festering upon the bark of Irminsul. Whatever the root cause, the result is the same; infected zones crop up, and it’s up to the Forest Rangers and the Mahamatra to cleanse them. We’ll need some more support from other Vision Holders to deal with this one.” 

As Tignari talked, Ziz’s mind whirled. What this man was saying sounded like the purest nonsense. But there was one fact that she had come to an abrupt realization of. 

“What language…are we speaking?” Ziz asked slowly. 

Collei immediately put a hand to Ziz’s forehead, frowning. “She’s not feverish, b-but perhaps a head injury?”

“I’m fine!” Ziz snapped, batting the hand away. Gently though. The girl seemed delicate for a Vision Holder, and Ziz was still under that damnable oath. Not because she was adorable and Ziz was grateful. “Just answer the question!” 

“We’re speaking Avidyadivan,” Tignari stated, his ears swiveling slightly. “Though we could switch to Teyvan if you prefer. I am working on Collei’s Eremize, though you don’t look like you’re from the desert. Where are you from? I don’t recognize your accent.”

 Ziz could probably have worked out whatever those other languages were rapidly enough. The language sounded very similar to Urdu, clearly an Indo-Aryan language. But all the pronunciation was off, as were certain words and phrases, probably borrowed from another linguistic source. Dry as her tanks were, she was still an Endbringer, and she still had a number of powerful Thinker abilities that let her puzzle out any language easily enough. 

“...I’m from…Inazuma. I’m a yokai,” Ziz said, lying like a rug, and making a very educated guess. 

“Oh really? I’ve never met a yokai before! I met a very nice Adeptus named Yanfei when I traveled through Liyue though, she helped me with my passport!” Collei said eagerly. “A-are yokai similar to Adeptus?”

Ziz had no clue, but was saved by Tignari. 

“In some respects, though what really makes an Adeptus is their contract with the former Geo Archon, Rex Lapis,” Tignari said in his lecturing tone. He nodded to Ziz. “What brings you to Sumeru?”

Ziz’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve come to study with Lesser Lord Kusinali. In the Sanctuary of Surasthana.”

“Ah, I see. You’ll need to speak to the sages then. They’re rather controlling of who has access to the Archon, as she’s quite reclusive,” Tignari said with a nod. 

“I don’t suppose you could point me in the right direction? I’ve become slightly lost,” Ziz said, her mind reeling slightly, even with its superior abilities. She was on Teyvat? Did these morons not know that their precious Archon was on Earth Bet? Well, no matter. If she could find the mechanism through which Nahida had been transported to Earth, she could get back and get her revenge. 

As she was plotting, Collei suddenly began to cough. Ziz was alarmed when blood came away, and she instantly tapped into her Vision. She’d learned a great deal since she’d received it three months ago, and began to delve the girl to see what was wrong. She drew back in sheer horror, as she sensed the same blight that caused the Withering. Worse, the condition was deep rooted, and clearly not new. But it had been recently exacerbated. 

“What’s wrong with you!? Didn’t you know you’re sick!? Going into that Withering Zone made it worse!” she hissed. 

“I-It’s fine. It’s my Eleazar acting up. I…I just need rest,” Collei gasped, but there was blood on her handkerchief. 

“Give her some of that medicine you gave me!” Ziz snapped at Tignari. “Hurry!” 

“I am,” Tignari said, even as he began to make a fire and brew some tea. “It will buy us time, but I’ll need to clease that Withering Zone. Severing that connection is the only way to truly heal her.”

Growing, Ziz stood. She looked around impatiently. She needed an easy source of power. “How do you do that?”

“You need to rest. To cleanse a Withering Zone, you need to destroy the guardians, then perform a ritual with the Dendrogranma,” Tignari said tersely. “But you’re too injured to do that.”

Ziz glanced around, then huffed. “Would the Aranara know how to do that?’

“They’re a myth. I doubt they could- where are you going? I said you needed to rest!” Tignari half shouted at her. 

“I’m going to go talk to your ‘myth,’ and then I’m going to make sure Collei doesn’t die! I swore that stupid ass oath to your Archon, and I’ll be damned if I break it now!” Ziz shouted at him, then stalked over to the bushes where the damnable fae were trying to hide from her. 

“Hey! You! Ara-something, you’re all called ara something, slow down! You’re supposed to help children, so help me save that little girl, or your Sarva-nara will be sad!” Ziz shouted after she’d shoved her way through the bush in hot pursuit of a pair of arana that were toddling away from her at a speed that was rather surprising for their small size. 

To her relief, the aranara paused, turning to face her. “Scary-nara knows Sarva-nara? Scary-nara can see Arana and Araja?” 

“Yes, I can see you,” Ziz huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and I’ll rip your little arms off. Now, do you or do you not know how to perform the dendro-whatever ritual?”

The little forest spirits exchanged a look, then nodded hesitantly. “Araja and Arana know, yes. But the Marana is too dangerous! We cannot face it.”

“Well, lucky you, you found a fucking Endbringer,” Ziz hissed ominously. “Now come on! Collei looks pretty damn sick to me. She doesn’t have long. And I owe those Marana a debt I’d like to settle.”

The two aranara held a short whispered conference, then nodded to Ziz. “Yes. Aranara will help Scary-Nara, for the sake of Serval-nara. You are friend of Sarva-nara?”

“I made her a promise. I will keep it,” Ziz growled. “No one is harmed, by my action or inaction. So I ain’t sitting on my ass while Collei dies. Get it?”

“Arana and Araja got it!” 

“Good. Now come on.”

Ziz was at the end of her rope energy-wise. There was almost no power in her Shards, and she was physically drained and exhausted. So when she stalked up to the spectral wolves, they bayed, sensing blood. The charged in, mouths gaping, dark entropy bleeding from their steps.

Then Ziz punched them in the face. Very, very hard. Weakened she might be, she was still the God Damn Simurgh. Even in this pathetic form, her blows could shatter concrete. They did well enough for the wolves, especially infused with Anemo. It was rather satisfying to tear something apart with her bear hands. Maybe the Behemoth had the right idea in his approach, muscle-headed moron or not. 

After dealing with the largest wolf, Ziz turned to the two Aranara. Who were looking at her wide-eyed. Well, as wide as their beady little doll eyes could go.

“Scary-nara is very scary,” Arana said.

Araja nodded. “Aranara are glad Scary-nara is on their side.”

“I’m sure you are,” Ziz said in silky tones. Then she smacked the back of her hand into her palm. “Now make with the cleansing! Or I will show you just how scary I am!” 

The Aranara waddled forward, towards the largest tumorous growth. “Scary-nara must join hands. She will need to sing the song of Cleansing and Waking as well.”

Grudgingly, Ziz knelt and took the Aranara’s hands, so that they formed a little circle in front of the pulsing growth. Then, the aranara began to sing. Not the same song she’d heard them sing before, but another lively tune, full of healing and life. Despite herself, Ziz found she knew that song, her Vision pulsing to its beat. It was a song Nahida had sung to her in one of their second set of repetitions. She sang along to the wordless tune, and before long, she felt the oppressive air around her revitalize. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Withering drew away from them, weakening as Life reasserted itself. 

It took half an hour, and by the end, Ziz truly was exhausted, her throat hoarse and raw from the power pouring out of her empty vessel. At last, however, the power of the Withering broke completely, and it dissipated utterly. Exhausted, she collapsed to the grass that was growing about her, and fell into a restful dream. 

Instead of a nightmare, this time, Ziz found herself walking the empty streets of a city. She looked around in puzzlement, up at the giant tree that towered over her, even bigger than those trees Nahida was growing back in Baghdad. This really was a wacky world. 

“Alright, very funny. Come out. I can tell when I’m in one of your dreams, Buer. Quit yanking my chain!” 

“I’m sorry, I was just curious. I sensed a strange new mind, one that could actually dream! That’s very unusual in Sumeru, you know.”

Sure enough, the radish herself stepped out from behind a tree, smiling shyly at Ziz. 

“Hardy har-har. What the fuck is your problem!? Are you trying to get out of our rematch!?” Ziz demanded hotly. “Or just trying to use this Withering to get a leg up on me?”

Nahida’s eyes had gone very wide, and she put her hands to her mouth in shock. “T-that isn’t very nice language! I thought you would be a kind person, the Aranara seem to like you. 

“Well, you haven’t exactly been peaches and cream to me. So what’s the big idea? How do I get the hell out of here and back to Bet?” Ziz demanded hotly, folding her arms over her chest. 

“Hmm. I think there’s some sort of information gap between the two of us. You are acting as though I should know you, and yet, you are a stranger to me. Are you perhaps mistaking me for my predecessor? I am the Dendro Archon, but I am not Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. No, that can’t be right. You called me Buer, not Samiel.”

“Who the hell is Samiel? Ugh, look, if this is supposed to be another one of your games, I think you’re breaking the rules of our contract, and if that’s the case, Fate should judge you, and I can do whatever I want! How’d you like me to pick one of the cities here and sing them a little lullaby!? I bet you’d love that!” Ziz sneered, though her heart wasn’t really in it. For some reason, driving an entire city to madness, especially one full of people like Collei and Tignari…didn’t sound all that appealing. The data would probably be garbage anyway. 

“How fascinating! You seem to be some sort of Traveler from afar,” Nahida said, a delighted grin on her face. “I can’t detect your name anywhere in Irminsul. I would like to hear one of your songs though. Even a simple lullaby would be most interesting, I-”

Nahida’s eyes suddenly went very wide, and she spun about. “No…no, what are they doing!? Everyone will be trapped! No, no, no! I have to find a way to- I’m sorry, but we can’t talk! How could they use the Akasha to do this!?” 

Then, Nahida vanished. 

Ziz stewed in the dream for a bit, then gave up and just went back to sleep. 

When she awoke, she found she was in a bed. Odd, she didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed. She did some checking, and was shocking to realize she’d been out for several days. Apparently, she’d been more exhausted and lower on energy than she’d though.

“You’re awake!” Collei scrambled over, taking Ziz’s hands in hers. “I-I can’t thank you enough! Master Tignari says you cleansed the Withering Zone, all on your own! You…you might have saved my life!”

“Yeah, well, you saved mine, so we’ll call it even, kid,” Ziz said, blushing slightly and looking away from Collei’s earnest gaze. “I was just keeping a promise.”

“Master said you mentioned that. B-but…I’m grateful. C-can I get you anything? Food, drink? You slept for three days…”

“I know that!” Ziz snapped, and Collei flinched. “I know,” she repeated, more gently this time. “And breakfast and tea would be great.”

Collei hastily departed, then bustled back a short time later with tea and a pair of pita pockets. “I-I hope it’s OK, pita pockets are my specialty! I figured you’d be hungry, so-”

“Starving, thanks,” Ziz said, swiping the tea first and draining it, the temperature was perfect, then snarfing down both pita pockets. They were rather delicious and very healthy from a nutrient perspective. “Not bad, kid. Not bad.”

Blushing, Collei beamed at Ziz. “T-thank you! Um, I let Master know, but he’s busy right now. General Cyno is here visiting him, and-”

“Great, I’m going to talk to him,” Ziz said, standing up and causing Collei to squeak. Ziz looked down, frowning. “Why am I naked?”

“Um, um, your clothes, they were torn and stained! I-I’m still repairing them! I’m not very good with a needle…b-but! I have some clothes I borrowed from Rana! Uh, they should fit you…”

“Super,” Ziz said, snatching the clothes Collei proffered and shrugging them on. “Oh get over it. You’re a girl, I’m a girl. Nudity taboos are stupid as hell anyway.”

“I-If you say so,” Collei agreed reluctantly, covering her eyes with her hands. “But, um, we shouldn’t just barge in! Master and the General are having a very important meeting! We can’t just interrupt them!” 

“Great. You stay here, and I’ll interrupt them,” Ziz growled, and stalked to where she could detect Tignari and another Vision Holder. A bit of her power had come back in her long sleep, and she wanted some goddamn answers. 

“-so, the situation is quite tense. There are rumors two Harbingers are in Sumeru, one of them Il Dottore himself. Fatui activity has ramped up. Considering the accusations, I’m of a mind to-”

Ziz kicked down the door and stormed into the room, a frantic Collei behind her. She’d only caught a bit of what the guy cosplaying as Anubis had been saying, but he grabbed his spear up quick enough.

“The fuck is an Akasha, and what are the Sages doing to Nahida?!” Ziz snarled. That had not been the question she’d originally intended to ask, but she was using her Thinker powers to make a few leaps of logic that painted a rather dire picture. 

“Who is Nahida?” the jackal man, probably General Cyno, growled. “And who are you?”

“I’m not sure what her name is. This is the yokai I was telling you about that we found in the forest. She’s the one who cleansed a Withering all on her own. After being captured by it previously,” Tignari sighed. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this is going to have to wait. There’s a bit of a crisis on hand, and Cyno and I will need to-”

“Wait,” Cyno said, holding up a hand, his eyes narrowing at Ziz. “What do you know about the Akasha and the sages?”

“Only that they scared the Dendro Archon shitless, and that if the Tsaritsa and her fatui are wrapped up in this, it can’t be good. They’re gearing up for war,” Ziz growled, then mentally kicked herself. That was on Earth Bet. Not here.

“Yes. I’m aware they’ve been up to no good in Inazuma and Mondstadt, and they were involved in some…unpleasantness… in Liyue as well,” Cyno said, slowly lowering his spear. “You’ve spoken to the Dendro Archon? How?”

“In my Dream,” Ziz declared, folding her arms over her chest. “And if you call me a liar, I’ll kick your ass, general or no.”

“She did claim to see Aranara, and Collei said she actually caught a glimpse of small figures singing with her while she cleansed the Withering Zone,” Tignari mused, rubbing his chin. He nodded. “Right. What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Don’t you ma’am me! I’m not an old hag! And you can call me Ziz,” she sniffed. She wasn’t even three years old! Ma’am indeed. 

“Aranara…” Cyno dismissed his spear, and shook his head. “If they’re involved…this is a distraction. Tignari: we have to get back to the city. The Sages are doing something, and I smell something rotten. They’ve turned down my requests for help, tried to send me off on a wild seelie chase. I could swear they’re working with the Fatui. And they are doing something to Lesser Lord Kusinali. They’ve locked up all her supporters, save a handful I helped flee the city. They’re in hiding not far from here. But I came to you for help. Even I can’t do this on my own.”

Ziz felt pure rage begin to fill her. “Doing what to Nahida, exactly?”

“Who is Nahida? Is that another name for the Dendro Archon?” Tignari asked. 

“Yes, obviously, moron!” Ziz snarled, her hands clenching into fists. “Now you tell me exactly what is going on, or I will personally find the Sanctuary of Surasthana and rip it apart with my bare talons!” 

Cyno and Tignari shared a look, and Tingari nodded. “Collei, you’ll need to stay here. I’m going on a business trip with the general for a few days, look out for-”

“No!” Collei declared, stepping up beside Ziz. “I’m a forest ranger too! If the Archon is in trouble, it’s my duty to help! I-I’m a Dendro Vision holder too! Lesser Lord Kusinali is very important to me, too! And if the fatui are threatening her, especially that monster, then I’ll stop them! Even if I have to go with Ziz alone!” 

“Atta girl,” Ziz said, giving Collei a nod. She liked a human with some spunk. 

Wait. When had she started liking humans?! The hell with it. Collei was a useful tool, and right now, what mattered was making sure that no one else killed Nahida before Ziz could!

“She is a Vision Holder. And we need all the help we can get,” Cyno said. “But she’s your trainee. It’s your call.”

Tignari sighed, running a hand over his ears. “You’d just sneak after us if I tried to make you stay, wouldn’t you?”

Collei nodded, her face flushed, but she didn’t look away. 

“Very well. You are a Vision Holder. Defending Sumeru and the Archon is one of the responsibilities that come with a Vision. Ziz, we’d appreciate your help, but you’re from Iznazuma. We don’t-”

“She’s not from Inazuma,” Cyno interrupted, and Tignari gave him a frustrated look. 

“She’s a yokai. Of course she is. Or did you skip your Inazuman history in your studies so you could play more card games!?”

“Don’t be silly. Just look at her Vision. That’s not an Inazuman Vision. That’s a Sumeran one,” Cyno said, nodding to Ziz’s Vision.

Ziz glanced down at her Anemo Vision, frowning at it. “What are you talking about? It’s an Anemo…the frame. Goddammit.”

“The frame of a Vision varies by region. Yours looks a bit different than ours, but it’s clearly closer to the Sumeran type than the Inazuman one,” Cyno said smugly, smirking at Tignari.

“...right. Ziz, care to explain?” Tignari sighed.

“No.” Ziz added emphasis by flipping off Cyno, who laughed, while Collei gasped in shock. “We’re wasting time. Where are these supporters? I’ll interrogate them myself.”

“You don’t need to interrogate them. They’re on our side,” Cyno said sternly. “But I would like to know why you have a Sumeran frame. Later. As long as you help us resolve this, you can be from wherever you want.”

Cyno led them to a cave not far away, where they found a group of disheveled refugees. There were a dozen of them, but aside from one woman with cat ears, none of them looked like they’d be any use in the fight. They looked more like a bunch of washed-up thespians, save for the unconscious woman the cat-eared woman was fussing over. She just looked like a rich bitch.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tingari said, hurrying over to the cat-eared woman. 

The tough-looking warrior flicked a glance at Tignari, then said in a tight voice, “Her Eleazar is flaring up. But whatever happened three nights ago, it hit Dunyarzad hard. She was at the center of it all, her and Nilou.”

“General! You’re back! And you brought help! Are we going to rescue the Archon now?” a woman with red hair and a costume with a pair of horns on the top asked, hurrying over. She looked vaguely familiar; aside from the nose, she was a dead ringer for Naomi Cohen. 

“Calm down, Miss Nilou. We’re not launching an assault on the entire Corps of Thirty with just us,” Cyno said, raising a hand. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Why does Kusinali need rescuing?” Ziz demanded. “Is it those fuckers in the fatui!?”

“I-I don’t know, I’m not certain! B-but the Sages have locked her up, and two people called the Balladeer and the Doctor are helping that! That was all Lord Kusanali told me before she saved me and woke me,” Nilou said, looking back and forth nervously. 

“That bastard,” Collei growled, her Vision pulsing with angry energy. “Master! We can’t waste any time! I swore I would never let Dottore touch another person! Especially not our beloved Archon!” 

“I’m in as well,” the cat-eared woman said, standing and coming over. “If there’s any way to save Dunyarzad, the Archon will know it. And I’ll make those assholes pay for what they’ve done for her. I’m Deyha, by the way. I’m a merc.” 

Tignari looked around, then groaned. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we? Half a dozen Vision Holders against the entire Akademiya? 

“Not quite. I’ve got a man on the inside. But you won’t like who it is,” Cyno said, grimacing. 

“Let me guess. Alhaitham?” Tignari groaned. 

“Alhaitham,” Cyno confirmed. 

“Fantastic. Well, if he’s in, that means Kaveh. So we have eight. Wow, I feel so much better with those odds,” Tignari said in overly chipper tones. 

“I don’t give a single shit about the odds. If these two fatui are as bad as the ones I know, then they’re not allowed within a hundred kilometers of Nahida,” Ziz growled.

Nilou raised her hand. “Um, what’s a kilometer?” 

Ziz gave her an exasperated look. “That’s your question? Are you in on operation kick fatui ass, or not?”

“Um, I’m in! I’m just a dancer, but…but I really love Lesser Lord Kusinali! I can’t let anything happen to her!” Nilou said, tears filling her eyes. 

“Well, at least we’ll have a Hydro Vision to give us an elemental reaction advantage at least,” Deyha said with a nod. “Right. When do we leave? I’m all packed already.”

“It’s a two-day trip. We go right now,” Cyno said with a nod.

“I-I brought rations! A-and water bottles!” Collei said, shifting the heavy pack on her shoulders.

“Great. Let’s move,” Ziz said, and turned to stalk out of the cave. Then she paused and blushed. She forced her face back to its normal complexion, then turned around. “Well!? I’m not from around here! One of you rangers, range! Lead the way! Come on!” 

It took them only a day and a night to make the trip. It wouldn’t have been possible for normal humans, but a group of Vision Holders had the endurance and abilities to make the trip swiftly, moving through the night. At the dawn of the next day, they rested in a cavern while Cyno went to alert his contact. He came back with a tall blond man, who looked like he was another academic instead of anyone useful, even if he did have a Dendro Vision himself. 

“Kaveh. Glad to see you,” Tignari said, shaking the other man’s hand.

“And boy am I glad to see you! The situation is bad. The Head Sage, he’s gone mad! Azar has let not one, but two Fatui Harbingers into the Sanctuary!  There have been fatui around for months, but whatever they’re doing, it involves the Archon, and that incident from three nights ago where everyone had a shared nightmare!” Kaveh said. 

“Shit. We have to stop them. But how?” Dehya asked, hefting her blade. 

“Unfortunately, there aren’t many options. You’re not going to like this,” Kaveh said, wincing. “It’s Alhaitham’s plan, but…”

“We’ll do it. Whatever it takes,” Collei said firmly. 

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Here’s what we do…” Kaveh said, and laid out the hare-brained scheme. 

Ziz didn’t care if it was stupid. Collei had told her about Dottore on the way here. How he was a mad scientist who had tortured her and other children for years in an effort to further his “research.” How she’d been rescued by the Knights of Favonius, and how Dottore had escaped. If he was running the same sort of horrific experiments on Nahida, well…

Ziz had a lot of blood on her hands. She’d enjoy getting a little more. 

“CHARGE!” Deyha roared, and she, Nilou, and Ziz, all stormed towards the gates. 

“FREE LESSER LORD KUSINALI!” Nilou bellowed, waving her sword. Which Ziz had on good authority had been a dull prop until very recently. Not that Ziz could really talk. She’d certainly never used a spear before. 

Her battle cry was a wordless shriek of rage, which she perhaps put a bit too much feeling into, as their opponents were dazed by the sound, several of them dropping their weapons. Which was when her battle cry turned into, “Oh for FUCKS SAKE!” 

She put a bit of healing into that one, so all the eardrums she’d burst were mended, and the idiot guard picked up their weapons. Now came the hard part: Not violating her oath but at the same time, making it look like she and the others were putting up a real fight. 

Dehya was the first to hit the guards, and Ziz had to admit she was slightly impressed. The woman put on a good show, slapping aside three guards with the flat of her blade, punching several others so hard they went sprawling, and then sending a wave of flames out to keep the others back. 

The big surprise was Nilou: despite her claim to have exactly zero experience in a fight, she masterfully disarmed three guards with her sword, and used her Vision to create enough mud to trap several others. Apparently, she’d learned enough fighting as an actor. 

Ziz’s biggest problem was that she was several times stronger than any human, and she had to pull her punches. She also didn’t want to reveal any of her Shard-based powers, not on these pathetic grunts, anyway. So she used her spear to trip them up, and her Vision to blow them over. It was sort of amusing, even if she couldn’t really hurt any of these morons. She absolutely had to get Nahida to free her from this stupid oath. 

They played with the guards for a few minutes, until the next stage of the plan kicked in. 

There was a clap of thunder, and a glowing purple figure landed amidst the battle. “Lay down your arms, and I won’t break you too badly,” Cyno growled. 

“I’d like to see you try!” Dehya snarled and launched herself at Cyno. The two of them clashed in a flurry of blows, explosions echoing as Pyro and Electro reacted. 

“This is a most untidy interruption. I’ll have to personally intervene,” a serious-looking man with grey hair and black and green clothing sighed, closing a novel and summoning a sword as he strolled towards Nilou. 

“Halt! By the order of the Sages, you’re under arrest!” Tignari said, and fired off an arrow at Ziz as he ran up behind her with Collei hot on his heels.

Ziz snorted and batted away the arrow with her spear. She was going to make the fox-man work for this. “Try me, beast boy.”

Their battle was brief, with Ziz blowing away most of Tignari’s attacks almost casually, and catching a couple of arrows with one hand and snapping them. He tried attacking with a few potions and herbal concoctions that had hallucinogenic properties, but they had no effect on Ziz’s physiology. 

She was about to smack him before deliberately taking a shot when something thudded into her back. Vines wrapped around her, and Ziz pivoted her head all the way behind her to see a blushing Collei. The girl had fired a net attached to an arrow, then activated it. Ziz could have broken the vines, but she had to give it to the girl.

“Oh no, you’ve got me,” Ziz sighed, letting herself thump to the ground. Dehya was down and bleeding profusely from a minor cut to her forehead, while Nilou had been disarmed by Alhaitham and had raised her hands in surrender. 

“These are the rebels the Sages ordered arrested,” Cyno growled, roughly slapping a pair of manacles on Deyha and hauling her to her feet. “Let’s get them inside before they cause any more trouble.”

The three “prisoners” were escorted up the giant tree, to the very top where a school nestled amongst the branches. Several guards rushed up to them, but Cyno raised a hand. “It’s alright. We’ve captured the rebels.”

There was the sound of one man clapping, and then a dry voice said, “Oh, I think you have. Well done. Well done indeed.” 

A grey-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard and a monocle of all things stepped around the corner, escorted by what Ziz instantly recognized as half a dozen fatui with delusions, and a sheepish-looking Kaveh in chains. From behind them, more Akademiya guards emerged, and from the side corridor, more fatui poured. 

“Fantastic,” Alhaitham groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How did you manage to open your big mouth this time?”

“It wasn’t me! He just showed up and arrested me all of a sudden with these goons!” Kaveh protested. 

Grand Sage Azar sneered. “Do you truly believe you could outthink me? I am possessed of the Akasha! It calculated your every move before you even made it. You have all fallen straight into my trap.”

“Yeah? Well, there’s one thing you didn’t calculate,” Ziz growled, tensing her body as Collei tried to undo the vines binding her.

Azar frowned, adjusting his monocle. “I don’t recall your presence in the Akasha. No matter, a single Vision Holder makes no difference. Who you are doesn’t matter.”

“THAT’S WHERE YOU’RE WRONG, BITCH! I’M THE GODDAMN SIMURGH!” Ziz roared, bursting free of her bonds. She let out another ear-piercing shriek, which her allies were protected from thanks to the wax they’d all put in their ears. Cyno and Tignari had wagered that the Grand Sage would see their attack coming, but that he wouldn’t know about Ziz. 

Even the fatui stumbled back, stunned, and all eight of the rebels fell upon them. Ziz blew most of them over, then grabbed the Grand Sage, lifting him up off his feet and snarling, “WHERE IS NAHIDA!? WHERE IS KUSINALI!?”

“You…you are too late! The Lord of Arcane Wisdom, the Artificial God…he is already complete! Even now, he is stripping the false Archon of her powers, and ushering in a new age! An age of Man!” 

“If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll rip your memories right out of your skull!” Ziz hissed, pulling the man close. 

“There is nothing you can do! I have already won! A glorious new age of-”

Ziz began to croon, and Azar fell silent, his eyes going wide. She kept her volume low, singing her song just for him. 

“What…what are you doing!? That song, stop! Stop it! I-I command you! I am… I am the Grand…Sage…”

A bit of drool leaked out of Azar’s mouth, and his eyes went glassy, his muscles relaxing. 

“Stand up!” Ziz barked, and Azar complied as she set him down. “Now, tell me where you’ve put Nahida, and give me any keys or access codes to get to her!” 

“She is in the Sanctuary,” Azar droned, reaching into his robes and fumbling out a key, which he extended to Ziz. “With the Balladeer. The Doctor is on his way. I have to have the finished product by then, or he’ll kill me. The gnosis…”

“Tell your guards to get out of my way, then piss yourself and go stand in a corner,” Ziz ordered. 

“Guards, stand down!” Azar shouted, then wet himself and moved to put his nose in the corner. 

The guards were too engaged to have heard him, but Ziz ignored them. “I’m going after Nahida! Keep them off me!” She snarled to the others, then activated her Vision and flew up the next three levels to where the Sanctuary was. There were guards, but a scream was all it took to have them knocked out cold. She used the key, then flung open the doors.

Immediately, her eyes locked on a green orb at the center of the room, surrounded by glowing runes of ominous purple. A dozen fatui spun to face her, but Ziz had eyes only for the small figure curled up in the fetal position at the center of the orb, her cheeks wet with tears. 

“Get her!” one of the fatui ordered. 

All Ziz saw was red. “MY OATH IS FULFILLED! I HAVE MET WITH THE DENDRO ARCHON AGAIN!” 

She didn’t hold back this time. Ziz blasted the fatui with bolts of air that sent them flying, back handing the survivors hard enough to shatter bones. She was ready to drive her fingers through the chest of one, until a voice whispered in her mind,

Please, don’t. Show…show them…mercy…

“ARRRGH!” Ziz screamed, then headbutted the fatui. Not so hard she fractured bone, but hard enough that he hung limply in her hands. She tossed him aside, then hurried forward. She parsed the runes at a glance but went for the most expedient solution of just smashing the console that was trapping Nahida with her fists. 

“Wake up!” Ziz snapped, grabbing Nahida and cradling her in her arms. “You owe me a fight, you hear me!? I won’t rest until I prove I’m better than you!”

Nahida’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled weakly. “T-thank you. I…I’m afraid…I can’t be of much use…right now…after I stopped the Sages from killing everyone in Sumeru…I was…I was too weak…to stop…the others…”

Ziz snorted, then turned towards the exit, still carrying Nahida. “Fine. We can fight later. Let’s get you out of here.”

“No! Wait!” a small hand gripped Ziz’s collar, and she froze, looking down at Nahida, who had tears in her eyes. “Please! They…they’re building something, down below! An Artifical God! But…but if it goes out of control…they could kill everyone connected to the Akasha Network! To me! I have to…I have to stop it!” 

“Oh, fine,” Ziz growled, turning about. “Where is this stupid thing anyway?”

They descended into the bowels of the tree, Ziz blasting aside any fatui that were stupid enough to show themselves to her. Nahida seemed to get stronger as they went, taking out a glowing chess piece and clutching at it. Ziz eyed it suspiciously. 

“That your Gnosis? I thought your stupid pet dragon had it.”

“I am increasingly certain that I am not the Buer you claim to know,” Nahida said, a small smile on her lips as she snuggled against Ziz’s breast. “...But I think you know that as well, Ziz.”

She muttered something choice under her breath. She was pretty sure she was in some weird alternate dimension too, but she had half hoped it was all Nahida’s doing somehow. “Yeah well, I’m still going to kick your ass. Later.”

They came at last to a large open changer, deep under the earth. Within it hung what looked to Ziz’s eyes to be one of the rumored Maguu Kenki mecha that the Raiden Shogunate were developing as a counter to the Tsartia’s naked aggression in Europe. Within it, a boy with eerily familiar features sat in the cockpit, hooked up to the mecha.

“Wait, I thought the fatui worked for the Tsaritsa! That’s an Inazuman puppet mecha!” Ziz said, pointing. “Is the Raiden Shogun behind all of this?!”

“Fool! You think the Raiden Shogun is responsible for this!? I shall surpass her in every way!” the boy said, his eyes flashing open and a sneer forming on his face. 

“Are you the bastard that hurt Nahida? That hurt Buer?” Ziz demanded, clutching Nahida tightly to her. 

“Set me down. I am stronger now. It’s my duty to confront the Balladeer,” Nahida said, tugging at Ziz’s sleeve.

The boy cackled, raising his hands, and the mecha-puppet mimicked the motion. “Who would have thought, the world would be so eager for my ‘birth.’ I have been infused with the Divine Knowledge of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata! I am now the true god of wisdom, Buer!”

“I do sense the power of the Greater Lord within him,” Nahida said, shuddering. “I…I know of only one way to stop him. I’ll have to sacrifice myself to-”

Ziz grabbed Nahida’s shoulder, a snarl on her lips. “Don’t even say it! Look at me! I’m going to share Data with you! We’re going to take this fucker down, once and for all!” 

“It is too late! I have already attained perfection! I have been reborn as the All-Knowing Lord of Arcane Wisdom! No longer am I the puppet, for the world shall dance to my strings!” the Balladeer laughed. The visor of the mecha slammed shut. “Now, let us reenact a scene from the Archon War! THE DEATH OF A GOD!” 

The data transfer was completed in an instant, and Ziz turned to face the mecha. “Sounds good to me.”

Then she flung herself forward, transforming as she did so, shedding the frail form of Ziz, and taking on her true aspect: The Simrugh. 

She wasn’t as big as the giant mecha, but she was able to kick him in the head, sending the nascent god reeling back. There weren’t many things she could use her telekinesis on in the chamber, so instead she pummeled with Anemo, using a psychic shriek to attack the mind of her opponent as well. 

For a moment, Ziz thought she’d won with just that, as the mecha-god was driven to its knees, staggered under her assault. Then the mecha surged to its feet with a burst of power exactly like that Ziz was all to familiar with: the power of a god. 

The Arcane Lord swung heavy fists crackling with power at Ziz, but she raised a barrier of Anemo, blocking the blow. She struck back with a barrage of telekinetic bolts, but she was countered by a shield of Geo, before a wave of fire struck her, ripping to shred her own barrier and causing her to cry out in pain as flames licked at her wings. 

Unwilling to back down, she unleashed several weapons she had secreted about her, a barrage of Tinkertech rockets and lasers striking her foe. Once more, the Arcane Lord was driven back, and Ziz grinned in triumph.

Then she ran out of missiles, and a swarm of cryo, hydro, and pyro bombs bombarded her, exploding in a cascade of Vaporize and Melt reactions that damaged her further. Then the Arcane Lord was up, grabbing Ziz by the wings before hurling her to the ground. His fists pummeled Ziz, who frantically tried to fight back, but she was overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity and might of the blows. She eventually managed to kick hard enough to force the Arcane Lord off of herself, but she was battered and bruised, even her formidable biology not capable of withstanding divine punishment for long. 

“Bow before me, worm!” the Arcane Lord cackled, and the center of his chest began to glow, his for arms curling around it as a massive ball of electro formed there. Ziz countered by firing off a machine gun blast of bolts of Anemo, but they just bounced harmlessly off of her opponent. The Electro blast struck her, and she was laid out, flat on her back, the ground cracked and broken beneath her. 

“No, stop!” Nahida wailed, throwing herself in front of Ziz before the Arcane Lord could deliver the final blow. 

Chuckling, he reached out, grasping her even as Ziz weakly tried to rise, but so low on energy she could barely stir. “And now, I take what is rightfully mine!” 

He reached into Buer’s chest with one finger, tearing at her very essence in order to rip away her Gnosis.

Then Nahida looked up, her expression serene. “Simulation complete. Resetting.” 

“What-”

Ziz grinned as the room was washed in green light. 

This time, the Samsara was on her side. 

For 168 cycles, the battle repeated. Ziz remembered each and every one of them. For the first twenty or so, the Lord of Arcane Wisdom triumphed over her with ease. Galling as it was, in her current state, he was simply far more powerful than she. 

But with each battle came new wisdom. The Arcane Lord didn’t recall the battles, but Ziz did, the data shared between her and Nahida each time. With each fight, she got a little better. After eighty battles, she could force a stalemate. After 120, she was achieving narrow victories. 

“Simulation complete,” Nahida said, for the 167th time. She turned to Ziz, back at the entrance, the Baladeer staggered, his eyes wide as the loops flashed before his gaze. 

“What…what have you done? A Dream?! You seek to trap me in a dream!? But even in dreams, you cannot hope to defeat me! Your Gnosis is mine!” The Baladeer snarled, his visor slamming shut again as he powered up his mecha.

“I gave you all the Wisdom of Sumeru,” Nahida said, extending a hand that grasped a crystalline vessel of Knowledge to Ziz. “Thank you, Ziz.”

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m ready to waste this jerk,” Ziz sneered, accepting the gift, before turning towards the False God. 

This time, she didn’t take on the form of the Simurgh. Partly because she was slower when she grew to 10 meters tall. But mostly, because it didn’t feel right. That wasn’t who she was anymore. She wasn’t the Simurgh. She was Ziz. Not the Hopekiller. The Hopebringer. 

She dodged the barrage of elemental attacks, sending bolts of Anemo at precise intervals and locations, directed straight at the Arcane Lord’s weak points. Soon, her opponent was reeling, and Ziz closed on him. She countered his attacks or dodged them flawlessly, her memories of exactly where and how he would attack making it child’s play. Her own blows were precisely timed and measured, directed at each obvious flaw her opponent had. She spun her spear about her, jabbing it into cracks and crevasses with ease, smiling wickedly as the mecha began to spark and sag, her attacks disrupting its systems. 

“No, NO, NO! I AM THE ALL-KNOWING GOD! I CANNOT BE DEFEATED!” the Balladeer raged, attempting to use his four fists to pummel Ziz into oblivion. 

She slipped away, taking no more than one or two glancing hits that barely registered, then screamed, her sonic attack causing her opponent’s entire frame to shudder. She’d gotten the frequency just right, and she’d hit him enough times that he was severely weakened. The entire frame buckled and much of it burst, elemental energy leaking out and causing a cascade of small explosions. 

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU FUCK WITH MY NAHIDA!” Ziz screamed, driving forward on wings of wind and kicking the Arcane Lord square in the chest. The supposed god broke in half, the head detaching from the splintered body as the whole thing crashed to the floor and lay in a broken heap. 

Landing, Ziz sauntered over, ripping open the cockpit, where the Baladeer struggled to unplug himself. “Insolent filth! I…I will lay you low! I am the-URK!”

Ziz grabbed the fool by the throat, hoisting him up. “You’re a stuck-up brat with delusions of grandeur. Now. Will you beg for your pathetic life, or will you die with dignity?”

“There’s no need to kill him,” Nahida said, floating down next to Ziz. “He was always but a puppet, dancing on the strings others forged to him. No, the real villain is about to reveal himself.”

“But killing him would be so satisfying,” Ziz half whined. “Come on. He’s an asshole. Killing him would make the world a better place!” 

“Death never makes the world a better place, only a more empty one. I sense that this man still has a role to play, if only we will let him. Now, take him away and imprison him with the others. And free Azar. His actions were wicked, but even he doesn’t deserve to be made a slave,” Nahida said seriously. She reached out, and pulled another chess piece from the wreckage. 

Ziz’s eyes went wide. “A second Gnosis!? But…how!?”

“Time enough for that later,” Nahida said, tucking both away. She smiled up at Ziz. “Step closer.”

Ziz set the Balladeer down, where he lay still, utterly defeated. She knelt in front of Nahida frowning at her. “What?”

To her surprise, Nahida leaned forward, wrapping Ziz in a hug. “Thank you. You are a true hero. You have returned Hope to Sumeru. And to me.”

Hesitantly, Ziz hugged Nahida back. “Yeah, well, don’t take it personally or anything. We’ll still have a fight someday, OK? But not until we’re both fully rested and recovered! I won’t have anyone saying I cheated!”

Giggling, Nahida nodded. “I look forward to it. Thank you, Ziz.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. On your feet, Pinocchio! Let’s get moving,” Ziz growled. 

That wasn’t the end of things, of course. There was a great deal of rebuilding to do, and some Forbidden Knowledge to cleanse, but for that moment, for the first time in her life, Ziz was content. 

Maybe, coming to a new world had been just what she needed. 

Parting Swapping With Rin, Chapter 7

Three days into their two week stint as royalty, Darkness came to Kazuma and Rin with a letter.

“You’re going to want to read this,” she said with a heavy sigh, holding the cheap parchment out.  

Rin looked up from the desk where she’d been hard at work reviewing the palace budget. She took the letter with a grimace. “Which lord is complaining this time? I’ve only been at this a few days and I’m already sick of their games.”

“It’s not that bad,” Darkness said with a sigh. “It’s from, well, ‘Rin.’” 

Kazuma looked over Rin’s shoulder as she read the letter aloud. 

Dear Leonore

Hello, it’s me, your twin! I hope you’re having fun. Don’t ride Pimpernel too hard, she’s a good horse, and I won’t have you lame her. Even if riding is the only remotely interesting thing to do most of the time. You could throw a ball, but frankly, I get tired of all the side-eye and the losers who think I’ll jump into a closet so they can marriage trap me, so I don’t recommend it. 

Anyway, we’re in Arcanretia now. You won’t believe the cutie patootie I just met! She’s one of Aqua’s besties, and she’s taught me SO MUCH about myself. Seriously, you missed out when you didn’t let me have a threesome with you and your boyfriend. Cecily says I’m the best at eating her-

Rin coughed and folded the letter over that part, going bright red. “I don’t think we need to read that part.”

“Well, shit. She met Cecily,” Kazuma groaned, pinching his nose. “Is there any other fantastic news?”

“She’s officially joined the Axis Cult,” Rin sighed, setting the letter to the side. “Is the rest graphic descriptions of her sex life?”

Darkness nodded, flushing bright red. “Um, yes. Not much use, really. Megumin wrote a short letter, but she essentially promised that she and Keith would keep an eye on ‘Rin’ and get her back here on time.” 

“Well that’s a relief. I don’t want to be dealing with this nonsense forever,” Rin groaned, sitting up and cracking her back with a heavy sigh. 

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later, Marie poked her head in, her expression concerned. “Your Highness? Captain Chanticlair has just flown in. He says it’s urgent.”

Rin’s eyes widened, but her look told Kazuma she had no idea who Captain Chanticlair even was. He cleared his throat and said, “For those of us in the room who don’t know who Captain Shanty even is?”

“Captain Chanticlair is the head of the Royal Dragon Preserve! He says it’s about that dragon you requested!” Marie said, urgently beckoning them. 

Kazuma and Rin both started, and Rin hastily got to her feet, picking her skirts up in her hands. “Well, lead the way! What’s happened to Faitfore?!”

They hurried to the formal sitting room, where a tall, thin man in riding leathers with the tabard of a Dragon Knight was waiting. He had salt and pepper hair with a thin waxed mustache, his hair cropped short in a most unfashionable manner that bespoke a man who was more concerned with form than function. Upon seeing Rin, he immediately knelt. “Your Highness. I must beg your forgiveness, for I have failed you.”

“Tell me exactly what’s happened with Faitfore, captain. She is integral to an important treaty,” Rin said, and Kazuma nodded.

The Captain eyed Kauzma and Darkness, his right hand twirling his mustache. “Hmm. Should foreigners be party to this?”

“I trust both Kazuma and Lady Dustiness implicitly. And this matter concerns them as well. You can say whatever you need to in front of them,” Rin told him firmly. 

Chanticlair bowed his head. “Very well. Faitfore was to be transported to the capital today. However, when we went to her cavern early this morning, she was nowhere to be found. Furthermore, my men keep an excellent watch, especially over her cave. They did not see any dragons depart the cavern or the preserve.”

Rin’s brows furrowed. “Surely a dragon cannot simply disappear. Were there any signs of a struggle?” 

“No, Highness. That said…” Chanticlair hesitated, glancing at Kazuma and Darkness again. 

“Speak on, Captain. This is a most urgent matter. We need to find Faitfore immediately, or our opportunity at a favorable treaty with Belzerg may be lost,” Rin urged. 

The captain sighed heavily. “My lady…Faitfore is young, but…there were signs she might have been becoming an Elder Dragon.” 

Kazuma blinked at Rin, who pursed her lips, then glanced at Darkness, who grimaced. “So, you think she’s assumed human form, and slipped out that way?”

Chanticlair started. “I…wasn’t aware that Belzerg was aware of the secret of Elder Dragons…”

“The Dustiness family has fought many chromatic dragons in our time, but we have been allies to the prismatic dragons. In fact, my great-great-great grandmother was the elder prismatic dragon Lalagosa. It’s one reason that we have such great physical strength and endurance,” Darkness said with a small shrug. 

Upon hearing that, both Marie and Chanticlair gasped, and both of them bowed slightly to Darkness. “I am sorry, my Lady. I did not realize you were one of the dragon-blooded.”

“It’s not a great secret. Anyone can learn of it by studying my family's official bloodline,” Darkness said with a blush. “Though I will admit, I wouldn’t force anyone who wasn’t required to take upon the memorization of all the noble bloodlines of Belzerg and the surrounding kingdoms. It is rather dry.”

“I knew that,” Rin calmly lied since Kazuma was pretty damn certain she did not, in fact, know that. But it was a very Leonore thing to say, so he let it pass without comment. “And it’s one reason I intend to offer Faitfore to Dust, that is, Rein, to help seal a new treaty with Belzerg and reaffirm our commitment to defend against the Devil King and his armies.”

Both Marie and the Captain looked horrified at that, while Darkness looked rather relieved. At least until Rin added, “In exchange for certain trade concessions.”

“T-trade concessions?!” Darkness gasped. “But, R-really, your Highness, that wasn’t what-”

“I’ve been reviewing the last bargain my father struck with King Melark. They are most disfavorable to Bryndle, and I intend to alter the deal, in exchange for granting your kingdom use of a full-time Dragon Knight,” Rin sniffed. 

Darkness looked slightly poleaxed, but the Captain was now stroking his mustaches in a rather thoughtful manner. “That is…most intriguing. What of Faitfore’s progeny?”

“Obviously, they will have to be returned to Bryndle for training, but they will be free to choose their own riders, as is traditional,” Rin huffed. Darkness turned bright red and looked on the verge of an outburst until Rin added, “But, members of the Dustiness line will, of course, be allowed to stand as potential rider candidates for the hatchlings to choose from. We’ll hammer out the details later.”

“That is…surprisingly cunning and well thought out,” the Captain mused, looking rather pleased. Marie’s jaw was actually hanging open, her eyes bugging out slightly. 

Rin rounded on the captain, her eyes flashing in fury. “And, Captain, do you not think that I am not allowed the occasional good idea when it comes to policy?”

“Well, er, no, I didn’t mean to imply-” Chanticlair stuttered, but Rin raised a hand. 

“It’s fine. Sir Kazuma suggested several of the details to me. I’m going to be proposing it to the Royal Counsel once we have Faitfore in hand. Now. How do we go about finding her?” Rin demanded. 

“Well,” Chanticlaire said slowly, stroking his mustaches again. “If I were a betting man, there are two places I suspect she’d go. The first is the former Cheruka estate. The second is to make for the capital itself if she is aware of where Sir Cheruka is.”

“I take it you have already dispatched searchers to the Cheruka estates?” Rin asked, and Captain Chenticlaire nodded. “Good. Lady Dustiness, where is your fiance at this particular moment in time?”

“Last I checked, in our quarters, though he had mentioned going out on the town for some fresh air,” Darkness said. 

“Very well. Sir Chanticlaire, I believe the best thing to do would be to let Rein wander about on his own for a bit. The man is an oaf and a fool, but he’s nearly as blessed by Eris herself as Kazuma is. Kazuma? You will go looking for Faitfore as well. Marie, you will help me finish reviewing the palace budget. We’re seriously overspending on luxuries and beauty routines. A certain amount of ostentation is reasonable and expected, but this is too much!  It’s a tremendous waste of my time and the people’s taxes to engage in so much frippery!” 

“Er, yes, your Highness,” Marie agreed, and followed Rin back to the bedroom to go over the ever-dry budgets and schedules. 

Kazuma changed from his fancy-pants clothes into his plain old adventurer’s garb and headed out into the capital of Bryndle. It was rather different from the Belzergian Capital, probably because there weren’t as many isekais corrupting the local culture. The dress was slightly different, and the buildings very much so, while the roads were multicolored cobbles instead of a uniform pavement. 

Kazuma was about a block from the palace when he realized he had no earthly idea what Faitfore even looked like. She was apparently a giant dragon that could turn into a human. He immediately pictured a sexy, curvaceous woman with pointed ears, horns, and a tail, like Tohru from Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid. If that were the case, Dust was going to be a lucky man with his own harem, and Kazuma was going to have to seethe with jealousy. 

With a shrug, Kazuma decided to do what he usually did in these situations: trust in sheer, dumb luck. It had worked for him so far. So, he wandered blindly, picking his direction at random and playing tourist. After several hours, his stomach started to grumble, so he found a street food stall. They were selling flat bread, slathered in melted goat's cheese and covered with tomatoes, corn, and garlic sauce. He was so hungry he bought two, happily munching on one piece as he wandered away. 

Just as he was about to take a second bite, when he noticed someone staring at him from an alleyway. It was a young girl, perhaps 10 years old, with pale white hair, yellow eyes, and a raggedy dress. She was thin and filthy looking, a street urchin if he’d ever seen one. Her eyes were locked on Kazuma and his snack, and a bit of drool was leaking out of her mouth as she pressed both of her hands to her obviously empty belly. 

Sighing, Kazuma wandered over and crouched in front of the girl, as she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her legs. “Hey. Want some?”

“Hungry,” the girl said, extending a hand. Kazuma gave her one of his flatbread pseudo-pizzas, and the girl grabbed it and proceeded to shove it into her mouth with both hands, devouring it with no concern for manners. She then licked her lands clean, despite them having been filthy earlier, and Kazuma grimaced. 

“Hey, you’re making a mess,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping her mouth. “What are you doing in this alley all alone, anyway? You got any parents?”

“I am looking for my master,” the girl said, her tone rather cool and emotionless. “He is near. I can smell him.”

“Oh really?” Kazuma said, making a face. “And who’s the loli-bait lover?”

The girl cocked her head to one side. “What is loli-bait? Can you eat it?”

“Never mind. I suppose you’re still hungry?” Kazuma asked, and the girl nodded. He held up the other half of his flatbread. “Tell me your name first.” 

“Faitfore,” the dragon-girl said. 

Kazuma sighed. It seemed she was a Kanna type instead of a Tohru. Kazuma was going to have to kill Dust if he had any lewd designs on this child. Or just tell Darkness. She’d probably take care of the matter for him, no problem. “Well, let’s go look for your ‘master.’ Dust is probably drunk in a tavern somewhere.”

“No Dust. Rein,” Faitfore insisted as Kazuma cleaned the mess of her gorging herself off of her face. 

“Sure. Just, uh, do me a favor. Don’t call him master. That sounds perverted, and he gets himself in enough trouble,” Kazuma told Faitfore. He extended his hand to her, and she eyed it for a moment, before slipping her small hand into his. 

“But he is my master,” Faitfore said as they headed off down the street. Kazuma winced. 

“Yeah, just call him Dust. Or Rein, if you have to. And call me onii-chan,” Kazuma insisted. 

Faitfore gave him a quizzical look, and Kazuma added, “If you do, I’ll buy you more food.” 

“Onii-chan,” Faitfore said dutifully.

Kazuma decided he would die before he let anyone hurt this precious child. He bought Faitfore two more flatbreads, a kebab, and three honey cakes. She eagerly ate it all, then nodded to him. “Thank you, onii-chan.”

They didn’t find Rein on the way back to the palace, but the guards did stop Kazuma, running up and leveling their halberds at him as he approached. “Sir! Unhand that dragon!” 

Before Kazuma could respond, Faitfore stepped in front of him, spreading her arms wide. “Do not threaten onii-chan!” 

Such an adorable little sister!

He patted Faitfore on the head, smiling down at her. “Relax, let your big brother handle this. Look, guys. I’m taking her to the Princess. It’s me: Kazuma Sato, her personal adviser?  I’m handling a very delicate matter here. Keep it quiet: the princess wants to see Faitfore personally.”

“No! No princess! I want my master!” Faitfore huffed, turning around and ignoring the weapons pointed at her to pout at Kazuma. 

“We can escort you to the princess,” one of the guards said, raising his weapon. The others copied him, and Kazuma grinned. “By all means! Escort me and my lil sis to the princess!” 

Faitfore’s brow knit, and she frowned as they started off towards Leonore’s chambers. “But, you are not my elder brother. You are a human. I am a dragon.”

“Dust is like a brother to me. And thus, I’m basically your big brother, since he’s like, your dad or something,” Kazuma said to Faitfore.

She considered this. “Do elder brothers give their little sisters snacks?”

“It’s their duty,” Kazuma told her seriously.

“I see, Elder Brother Onii-Chan.”

Tears filled Kazuma’s eyes. Truly, he had made it in this world.

They found Rin hard at work amidst a pile of documents. “Hey, honey, I’m home! And guess what I found!” 

The guards looked scandalized until Rin looked up and grinned when she saw Kazuma. “I knew your luck would win out! Excellent, and- oh my gods, she’s darling! Kazuma, is that really Dust’s dragon!?”

“I am Faitfore. Where is my master?” the dragon said seriously, looking absolutely adorable as she did so. 

“Sweetie…that’s problematic. Why don’t you call him Dust like everyone else,” Rin said, crouching in front of Faitfore so they were on eye level. The girl nodded seriously, and Rin turned to Marie. “Draw a bath for her! And send for the royal tailors! I’m paying them enough, and they are definitely making some cute dresses for Faitfore!” 

“Y-your majesty! She’s an elder dragon! Is that really appropriate?!” Marie asked, more than half scandalized. 

“You can’t tell me she wouldn’t be just precious in a sundress. With a little hat too!” Rin said, grinning impishly. 

“Well, um, I…” Marie flushed and cleared her throat. “...I’ll send for the royal tailor immediately.”

Kazuma was shooed outside, with the now apologetic guards. 

“Sorry, sir. Can’t be too careful with security,” the lead guard said. 

“Don’t worry about it. You did your job, no hard feelings. Keeping that woman safe is more important to me than anything in the world,” Kazuma told him, clapping the man on the shoulder. “Now, back to your post. Oh, and don’t tell Dust or Lady Dustiness we found Faitfore when they come back. I want this to be a surprise.”

After about an hour, Darkness and Dust reappeared, looking out of breath. Dust ran up to Kazuma, grabbing his coat. “We can’t find her anywhere, Kazuma! Please, you have to tell R-Leonore to send out a search party!? What if Faitfore is lost, or hurt!? Someone has to find her! She’s only a young dragon!” 

“Relax. We’re working on it. Why don’t you come in and have some tea?” Kazuma told him. 

“Kazuma, now is hardly the time for tea!” Darkness protested, looking distraught. “Dust is quite concerned about Faitfore, as he should be! Dragons are not mere beasts, and she was closer to being his family than his mount!” 

“Duly noted. One sec,” Kazuma rapped on Rin’s door and called, “Hey, are you ready for us? Dust and Darkness just showed up.”

Tiana poked her head out, then grinned when she spied them. “They’re in the garden! The tailor’s just left. Come in!”

“Taylor’s here?” Dust asked in confusion, but Kazuma shoved him inside. 

They found Rin sitting with Marie and Faitfore at a small table, with high tea set out. Maids were cooing over Faitfore, who was now dressed in a frilly mint-colored dress, with a wide hat on her head and a pair of daffodils in the band. She was absolutely adorable, with her cool kuudere looks and a bit of strawberry jam on her cheeks from the scones. 

Upon seeing Dust, Faitfore lept from her seat, putting one hand to the hat on her head as she dashed over, crying, “Master!” 

Tears filled Dust’s eyes, and he croaked out, “Faitfore?” as he knelt, scooping her up in his arms and hugging her tightly. 

“Master!” Faitfore said the first real emotion in her voice Kazuma had heard as she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around Dust’s neck. “I have found you.”

“I…I’m sorry, Faitfore. Sorry I left you alone. I promise to never leave you again,” Dust said hoarsely, his eyes squeezed shut as he hugged her tightly. 

Darkness knelt beside them, her own eyes damp as she smiled. “Dust, I did not realize…she’s so young! She’s practically your daughter.”

“No, he is my master,” Faitfore corrected. 

Darkness winced. “Ah, Dust…”

“What?” he asked, frowning. “Don’t you like her?”

“Yes, but, ah…maybe she should call you something else…like… elder brother?”

“Kazuma is Elder Brother Onii-Chan,” Faitfore said seriously.

Everyone in the room turned looks of disgust and/or death glares on Kazuma. “What? What?!”

“Uh, maybe just call me papa,” Dust told Faitifore. 

She considered that, then nodded. “Papa! Do you like my dress? The princess says I am cute.”

“You’re the cutest dragon in the world,” Dust said, kissing Faitfore on the forehead. She smiled happily at the gesture, and separated from him so she could twirl about in her dress to show it off to everyone. 

“Can I have more dresses, papa, princess? I like them,” Faitfore said seriously. 

“You can have as many dresses as you want, darling,” Dust promised. He pointed to Darkness. “This, um, this is Darkness. She’ll be your new mama.” 

“H-hello,” Darkness said, crouching down in front of Faitfore and smiling at her shyly. “I, ah…I intend to wed your father, Dust. You…you don’t mind, do you?”

Faitfore considered that. “Will you give me dresses and snacks if you are my mama?”

“Of course! And we’ll battle lots of strong monsters together,” Darkness promised. 

That produced a grin with far too many sharp teeth for such an adorable little girl. “Mama! I hope papa gives you lots of eggs.”

“I…I do too,” Darkness agreed, and gave Faitfore a hug, which she returned happily enough. 

“Man, she’s cute as a button. But what are the other dragons and riders going to say when they find out I’m letting mine dress up?” Dust muttered to Kazuma.

“Screw ‘em. You’re moving to Belzerg. She can wear as many dresses as you want, no matter what the other dragons say,” Kazuma said with a shrug. 

“Yeah! Screw ‘em!” Dust agreed, and beamed at Faitfore as she devoured another dozen scones, Darkness matching her bite for a bite to the awe of all the surrounding servants. Rin wasn’t doing half bad for herself either, though, despite her best efforts, she could only manage four. 

“Dust, why don’t you and Kazuma take Faitfore for a walk,” Rin said, turning to Darkness. “Lady Dustiness and I have a treaty to sign. Marie, send for Minister Damien and have him bring the draft I’ve been working on.”

“Your Highness, I don’t really know if-” Darkness began.

“You have been charged as a royal envoy, yes? And if you are to leave with your adorable new daughter…well. Certain trade concessions will be required,” Rin said with a wicked grin. 

Kazuma and Dust departed with Faitfore for a walk of the castle grounds, Faitfore eagerly running ahead of them and telling everyone that she was “adorable.” Nearly everyone couldn’t resist giving her a pat on the head, and several of them even gave Faitfore some sweets, saying she was “darling.”

Captain Chanticlair was less than impressed, turning to Dust and shaking his head when he encountered them. “Dressing your dragon up like some sort of doll? The very idea. She is a noble fighting beast, not a pampered pet.”

“Papa says I’m his and mama’s daughter now,” Faitfore piped up. “And I can have all the dresses I want!” 

“You’ll spoil her rotten,” Chanticlair sighed. “It seems the Belzergian madness has infected you. Well, at least we won’t be losing a proper fighting dragon.”

“Hey! Faitfore can still fight!” Dust protested. 

“Not dressed like that,” Chanticlaire said dryly. “Good day to you.”

Faitfore examined her dress as he strode away, then looked up at Dust, frowning. “Can I not be adorable and fight with you, papa?”

“Of course you can. I’ll make sure to put ribbons on your horns whenever we fight,” Dust promised. 

“Yes. Then I can be adorable and fight monsters,” Faitfore agreed. 

As they toured, Kazuma noted that all the dragons were eyeing Faitfore, and felt bad for the girl. He resolved to kick the ass of any dragon that bullied her. Or at least have Darkness do it for him. 

The other knights certainly looked at Dust with disgust, but considering his general reputation before, that wasn’t much of a change, even as they whispered about him “playing dress up with his dragon.”

Faitfore spent the night in Darkness and Dust’s quarters, after showing off an adorable nightie that came with a little dragon hoodie made by the royal tailor, who was perhaps the most enthusiastic convert to what he was calling “Dragon High Fashion.” 

The next morning, after breakfast, Rin sat to hear petitions once more. Kazuma took a peek outside, seeing the usual line of nobles, merchants, and a few commoners in line. He was just about to report back when a stunning woman with long silver hair, amber eyes, dressed in a burlap sack that very nearly broke the bounds of modesty strode up, cutting in front of the line. The guards very nearly tried to block her, but she snarled at them, “Out of my way! I, Hoyin, Imperial Matriarch of the High Dragons, DEMAND to see the Princess!” 

The guards looked uncertain, but Kazuma drew Chunchumaru. “If you mean any harm to the princess, I cannot let you pass.” 

Hoyin snorted as the petitioners cringed away from her, folding her arms over her chest, emphasizing her very feminine figure. “I would like to see you stop me, human. But do not fear. I am not here to harm the princess. I am here to petition her, not harm her.”

“Very well,” Kazuma said. He turned to the line. “Any objections if she cuts to the head?”

After hasty assurances from even the snootier nobles that they did not mind if Hoyin preceded them, Kazuma led her inside. 

Hoyin immediately strode to the center of the audience chamber, even as Rin sat up in surprise on her throne. Dropping to one knee, Hoyin bowed her head. “Your Highness, I am Hoyin, Imperial Matriarch of the High Dragons. I have come with a petition!” 

“If this is about Faitfore, she has chosen to accompany Dust, and I have reached an agreement with Belzerg that will allow her to do so. I will not keep her from being with her chosen family,” Rin said firmly. 

Hoyin looked up, scowling fiercely. “As is good and proper! But this IS about Faitfore. Why does she get to wear adorable dresses, when the rest of us do not!? As Matriarch, I demand that I be provided with cute outfits to show off to my master!” 

There were gasps of shock and buzzes of conversation. While Rin was still formulating her reply, there were the sounds of boots and spurs ringing off the stones, and a moment later, Captain Chanticlair appeared, red faced and out of breath. “Hoyin!? What are you doing, petitioning her Highness! This should go through me!”

“You said you didn’t like cute outfits,” Hoyin sniffed. “So I am bypassing you, master. If you will not give me an adorable dress and a lovely hat like Faitfore has, then I will go straight to the source!”

Chanticlaire’s jaw dropped, and he turned to Rin, looking rather abashed. 

“Oh please, captain. Do explain to your dragon why she isn’t allowed to have a dress like Faitfore. Faitfore, honey? Why don’t you come over here and show everyone how cute your dress is.”

Faitfore, who had been off to the side with Dust, scurried over. This time, she was wearing a yellow sun dress, along with a tan cloche hat with a yellow ribbon on it. She happily spun about, showing off her style to everyone present. 

Hoyin gasped and clasped her hands together. “So cute!” Then she rounded on Captain Chanticlair, drawing herself up and bellowing, “I DEMAND CUTE DRESSES LIKE THAT! AND SHOES! I WANT CUTE SHOES TO MATCH MY DRESSES!” 

“I, er, well, I um…” Chanticlaire gulped, then turned and bowed to Rin. “...I will address this matter personally. I will ensure that Hoyin has all the clothes she wants, from my own personal funds.”

“Tell me, Chanticlaire, do dragons draw a salary?” Rin asked in amusement. 

The captain blushed. “Er, no, your highness. Not as such…”

“Well, as it happens, thanks to certain budget cuts and a new and very favorable trade treaty with Belzerg, there is currently a surplus in the royal budget. As such, from this day forward, all dragons who are in our service shall be paid a stipend for living expenses, such as clothing, treats, and other items. And Sir Kazuma has proposed plans to open a royal hotsprings spa and resort. All dragons will be granted a yearly three day stay at the spa, to be paid from the royal budget.”

“Hot springs?” Hoyin asked, frowning slightly. “To bathe in? But I already bathe in volcanic springs.”

“Not with beauty treatments, hot drinks, and cute dresses to relax in,” Rin told her. “It’s the least we can do for the dragons who defend our country.”

Hoyin brightened at that. “I accept! I will let all the other dragons know they may also have cute clothes! Parinthrax was saying he wanted a hat and a nice suit!”

With that, Hoyin happily strode off, an embarrassed Chanticlair following after her. 

By the end of the week, High Dragons in High Fashion could be seen strutting about the palace, resplendent in evening gowns, fancy suits and trousers, and sporting the most magnificent of headwear. It quickly became something of a rivalry amongst the Dragon Rider Corps to see who could outfit their dragons most splendidly, and the tailors of the city experienced a huge boom in business. Of course, they had to pay a new tax on all high fashion items that Kazuma had quickly proposed and Rin had run through. There would have been more grumbling, but all the clothiers and haberdashers were making so much money they were too busy to whine. 

Faitfore turned out to be the trendsetter of high fashion, with the royal tailor providing her with multiple new outfits daily, much to her delight. Darkness was so pleased with her cute new daughter that she almost forgot that she’d signed a less than favorable treaty in her capacity as Royal Envoy, and was waiting to hear back from Iris to have it ratified. 

It was in that semi-carnival air that Rin and Kazuma were rudely interrupted one evening. Fortunately, they were only half naked at that point, but the door still burst open right as Kazuma was kissing Rin on her nipple. 

“Your highness!” Minister Damien cried, rushing into the room. 

Rin screamed, covering herself, while Kazuma swore and would have killed Damien if he hadn’t been so busy trying to pull up his pants.

“Damien! Why on Earth are you bursting into my private chambers!?” Rin demanded.

Damien shook his head. “I’m supposed to have known you since you were in swaddling, your Highness. Look. We’ve just received this.”

Reluctantly, Rin took a letter from Damien. The seal was broken, but he recognized the golden falcon of Elroad. 

Rin began to read and soon forgot about her nudity. She looked up, having gone pale. “This…this is a ransom demand! They’re threatening to execute the king and the princes if we don’t pay them one hundred billion eris!” 

Damien nodded grimly. “Yes, Your Highness. The King and the Princes incurred a great debt, and somehow insulted the Sultan of Elroad. Minister Ragecraft sent this demand, stating that if the sum was not paid in a fortnight, he would execute one of your brothers each week, starting with the youngest and working his way up to your father.”

Rin snarled, her bushy tail standing on end. “This insult will not stand! Summon Captain Chanticlair and the Dragon Knights!”

“Kazuma! Rin! I, oh!” Darkness and Dust skidded to a halt, Faitfore hot on their heels. Both of them immediately covered up Faitfore’s eyes, much to her confusion.

“Mama, papa, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, sweetie,” Darkness soothed, before looking up. “Your Highness, the King of Bryndle is in grave danger! We’ve just received word from Princess Iris that a general of the Devil King is known to be active in Elroad!”

“Oh really,” Rin said, her eyes narrowing. She shrugged on her nightgown, then turned to Damien. “ I’ll meet the Knights in the formal council chamber in half an hour.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Damien said with a hasty bow, and ran off as fast as his pudgy legs could carry him. 

“What do we do?! Leonore isn’t due back from Arcanretia for three days!” Dust cried, half panicked. 

“I’ll tell you what we do. We fix this mess,” Rin said. “I’m not letting all my hard work keeping the kingdom in good order for her go to waste! We rescue the King, and we stomp out this General. Do you know who it is?”

“. Not by name, and Iris learned from the Fortune Teller of the Crimson Demon Clan that the infiltrator is a shapeshifter, so they could be impersonating anyone” Darkness reported.  

“Great,” Rin muttered. She turned around. “Help me get dressed, Kazuma! And not one of those frilly things. Get me something suitable for war!”

Kazuma swallowed and shared a look with Darkness, who nodded firmly. 

“Right. I’ve got your back, Rin.”

It looked like their playing at being royalty had just turned deadly serious. 

PRT Threat Assessment: Ziz (Grunt Edition)

Image and statement that 100% proves that Ziz is not the Simurgh, honest.

Cape Name: Ziz

Real Name: Also Ziz [[Definitely Not Simurgh, Haha!]]

Disposition: Vagrant

Location: Bumbling around and giving us conniptions. She’s around the Midwest frequently but she flies all over the damn place. She often travels overseas and doesn’t seem to be a local. 

[[Buckle up chuckle fucks because the weenies did the bean counting. Ziz is hitting up all of the Simurgh’s major hits. Davao. Madison. That one city in Mongolia I can’t pronounce. And shocker, Baghdad and New Delhi. So you get zero guesses as to who the white bird lady with an attitude problem is.]]

General Information: Ziz is what the kids these days are calling a “furry.” That doesn’t mean she actually has fur, as she’s some sort of owl that received a vision and turned into a human, just like those weird raccoons from Japan or that one girl’s dog from Brockton. I have been reliably informed however that if you try whatever the fuck a “yiff” is with her, she will send you straight to hell. 

Either way, the scoop is she used to be an owl until she got a hankering for freedom and that spoony bard turned his gaze on her, or however getting one of those things works. Either way, she got anthropomorphized faster than a corporate mascot and ended up as an angry bird lady. 

Ziz spends her time finding people to harass verbally and physically. Oddly enough, instead of getting pissed at her for screaming at them, most people break down in tears and declare their eternal gratitude. Even more oddly, this only seems to further enrage Ziz, whose catchphrase seems to be “stupid humans.” With or without added expletive flavor. 

She’s also buddy buddy with Nahida Saeed, so she can’t be all that bad, right? Least ways, she’s less grouchy and prone to swearing like a sergeant with a sore tooth after she has a pow-wow with the world’s cutest radish. 

She’s been deemed a non-threat and Troopers are instructed to observe her and not interfere with whatever it is she’s doing. It seems harmless enough, and people enjoy it. Pain in the ass she might be, but it would be even more of one to arrest her. 

[[If you’re reading this, I don’t know how the fuck you got clearance for it, but here goes: Ziz is the Simurgh. Yes, you read that right. She’s not trying all that hard to hide the fact, as her disguise seems to run on the same energy that Clark Kent’s does. Namely that no one is looking for a goddamn Endbringer to show up looking like an angry teenage girl with bird bits glued on. 

How she ended up calling herself Ziz isn’t our problem. What is our problem is what the fuck the Simurgh is doing. As it turns out, she’s deprogramming the sleeper agents she scattered about the world in her first three attacks. It’s scary as fuck, but all those people were actually carrying some sort of alien brain worm that would cause them to go Manchurian Agent on us when activated and instigate some sort of horrible disaster for humanity. 

Why is she doing this? Brother, if you can’t figure that one out, you should be busted back to private and have your memory of this document wiped, but I’ll spell it out for the slow ones in the back. It’s Kusanali. The Hopebringer has turned the Hopekiller against her former masters, and now the Simurgh is on our side. 

Yeah, I’m getting too old for this shit too, but if Nahida Saeed were old enough to drink, she’d never have to buy a beer. As it is, I’m sending her a case of chocolate milk.

And that’s why you’re not to touch her. Plus…]]

Classification: Brute 2, Mover 5, Blaster 3, Shaker 2, Striker 1, Master 4

She’s got an Anemo Vision. Also a bird. She can fly and shoot air balls at you. Not anything too special other than that, but expect she has some tricks up her sleeve and is going to be hard to pin down. We would, however, prefer you not. She has some sort of master powers she uses to sing at people, but it just seems to pep them up. Interview those she uses her abilities on, but don’t arrest them or her. 

[[Classification: Ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. GRUNTS DON’T FUCK WITH ENDBRINGERS MORON. TOO HIGH FOR YOU IN EVERY CATEGORY.]]

Recommended Strategies: Leave her alone. 

As foul-mouthed and prone to aggravated assault as she is, the brass have decided to leave the bird woman alone. Maybe she’s an endangered species or something. My personal theory is they don’t want to piss off the world’s only Endbringer Deterrent by hurting one of Nahida’s playmates. Works for me, but the paperwork when Ziz shows up is enough of a nightmare on its own. 

[[You know that Endbringer repellent? Turns out, it’s more of a friendship beam or something. Kusanali made friends with an Endbringer instead of killing it. Apparently, Archons can do that too. Fuck me. 

Well, the recommendation says the same, but this is because we do not want to screw the pooch on the greatest gift mankind has been given since Jesus Christ himself handed out free wine. We do not want to do anything that would convince the Simurgh to stop her from repenting of her wicked ways. Or decided to actually have a real fight with Nahida instead of just doing the hi/bye routine they’ve been banging on with for years now. A free win every few months on the Endbringer Rotation is enough in my book, especially with the Twins, Behemoth, and Apep still causing mayhem. Shit, Ziz in her Scary Form and Nahida just had a meet-up in Atlanta, Georgia, and my sister and her family live there. They ain’t dead or mad after an Endbringer attack, and that’s enough of a win in my book.]]

Addendum: She has recently joined the Tone Deaf Bards. Not half bad as a bassist and singer either, though she’s way more into metal. Win in my book, their other stuff was too pop-y for my tastes. 

[[Well. 

Fuck.]]

The Second Archon War: Interlude 10

Interlude 10: The Sabzeruz Festival

Being atop a dendrosaur was a bit like sailing on a boat. The rolling gait of the giant creature was somewhat soothing, to the point that Paimon had passed out, a bit of drool leaking out of her mouth as she cuddled up in Lumine’s lap. The sweet fragrance of the flowers on the creatures had a spicy aroma that Lumine found enticing, and she was too excited that they were nearing the end of their nearly year-long journey to sleep herself. 

She grabbed a piece of paper from her backpack and crumpled it, then extended her hand towards one of the fruit that grew along the creature’s side. A moment later, she had the fruit in her hands. Aether stirred slightly, opening one eye and frowning at Lumine. “Is that…safe to eat?”

“The fruit from a dendrosaur? It’s high in elemental energy, but you’re both capes, so it should be fine,” their drover said. He was a sunburnt man named Abdulah with a “Brockton Bay Longshoremen” ballcap, and a kind disposition

Biting into the fruit, Lumine found it sweet, with a sharp, tangy aftertaste. She also got a burst of energy that sent a thrill down her spine, and Lumine sighed in contentment. She was exhausted, her own skin freckled and sunburnt, despite her bucket hat and tinted sports goggles. Though because of all the dirt on her, she looked like a bit of a raccoon when she put them on. 

Stupid whopper flowers. They’d saved the village crop, but all three of them had ended up absolutely filthy. On the plus side, they’d gotten a ride with Abdulah and Meganium. Apparently, Abdulah was a bit of a nerd, and he’d spent a good bit of their journey playing on an ancient purple Gameboy. That had been out in the boonies, now that they were in sight of Baghdad, there was enough traffic that Abdulah was paying more attention to guiding Meganium.

“Not a lot of cars,” Aether observed, hanging over the side. “Sure are a lot of dendrosaurs though.”

“It’s a government initiative. Instead of creating pollution like cars do, dendrosaurs make fertilizer! It’s highly valuable, one of our biggest exports now along with all the surplus food we’re growing,” Abdulah explained

It was true: Lumine could see a dozen different varieties of dendrosaurs, from the sauropod-like ones similar to Meganium, to ones that resembled stegosaurs, ceratopsians, hadrosaurs, ankylosaurs, and even predatory-looking therapods. None of them were dinosaurs, at least not truly. All of them had plants sprouting from them, from the cacti along the back of the stegosaurs to the fronds growing from the therapods. They ranged in size from gargantuan beasts larger than any natural animal hauling massive loads, to the size of a small pony with single riders or small burdens. 

“Mmm, does Paimon smell food? Paimon wants some…” the sleepy fairy in Lumine’s lap murmured, and she exchanged the core of her fruit for another growing on Meganium’s back. Taking out a pocket knife, she cut off small pieces, offering some to Paimon and her brother. 

As they entered into the city, Lumine spotted banners and other decorations being raised, most of them in green and silver. She couldn’t read the letters, mostly since she wasn’t even slightly fluent in Arabic. The only reason she could communicate with Abdulah was that he spoke English, the only language of this world she’d even come close to mastering. 

“What do they say?” she whispered to Paimon as her travel guide chewed happily on the fruit.

Smacking her lips, Paimon pointed to the banners. “Most of them say ‘Happy Birthday’! It’s the Sabzeruz Festival! It’s celebrated every year in Sumeru, and now in Iraq, I guess, though in Sumeru, Greater Lord Rhukkhadevata is honored more greatly. She was the former Dendro Archon before Lesser Lord Kusinali became the current Dendro Archon.”

“Really? Did the other Archons stop an Endbringer? Twice?” Aether asked, though his tone was teasing. 

Paimon’s expression fell. “She died in the Cataclysm, saving the people of Khaenri'ah. Paimon isn’t sure exactly how, but that’s what all the stories say. She was a great hero.” 

“Then I guess Kusinali is a proper heir for her indeed,” Lumine said with a smile. “She’s saved the world twice now.”

“Yeah, Paimon didn’t know much about Kusinali before coming to this world. But she seems really nice! I hope we get to meet her, and that she can tell us a way for us to get home,” Paimon said wistfully.

“Us too,” Aether agreed somberly, and Lumine nodded. 

They rode in silence for a while after that, as Abdulah directed Meganium through the outskirts to a warehouse, where Abdulah and Meganium would unload their cargo of cotton bales. They bid each other farewell, with Lumine slipping Meganium a carrot, which the gentle giant accepted from her palm eagerly. As they departed, the dendrosaur also deposited a rather large mass of fertilizer, which a disheveled man with a wheelbarrow approached. 

“You wouldn’t know it when you look at me, but I used to run this place! Let me tell you that Kusanali, she’s pure evil! Her and her little faeries…you just watch yourselves! One day, I’ll take it all back! Oh yes, it will all be mine again!” the man cackled as he began to shovel the dung into his cart. 

“Sure you will, grandpa,” Lumine said, giving the man a patronizing smile. 

“Uh, Lumine…I’m pretty sure that’s…” Aether said, then shook his head. “Never mind. Whoever he was, he’s just some crazy old man now I suppose.”

They headed into the city, where decorations continued to be erected. Lumine smiled, remembering festivals back home, from the Charmony Festival in the Fall to the Lantern Rite to herald the New Year. Her eyes misted over slightly, as she recalled the time spent with her brother and their friends. Would they ever see another Grand Choir perform the Charmony Festival, or light lanterns to celebrate another year? 

“LOOK OUT!” 

Lumine blinked and immediately felt her adrenaline surge as Paimon let out a squeak of fear and a bright white object fell at her feet and exploded into a white cloud. She drew her baseball bat and began swatting at the object, beating it violently. There was a loud crack, and then bright objects spilled at her feet. She hesitated, breathing hard, looking around for another attack. 

With a laugh, Aether bent down and retrieved one of the little packages that had spilled around them. He twisted off the paper wrapper, then popped it in his mouth. “Relax, it's just candy. Some sort of pinata.”

“Are you OK!? Sorry, I dropped the Simurgh early…” a little girl said, poking her head over the side of the building beside them. 

“Uh, we’re fine. Um, sorry about your pinata. I was, er, startled,” Lumine said, chuckling nervously and putting her bat back in the sling she kept on her back. 

“Paimon nearly had a heart attack! But since it was candy, Paimon will forgive you this time,” the floating fairy said, bobbing down to grab as many pieces of candy as she could.

“Wait right there! I’ll be right down,” the girl said. There was pounding of feet, and a minute later, a young girl with her dark hair in long curls down her back appeared. 

“Miss Nadia!” a harried-looking older man said, hurrying out after the girl. “You nearly hurt these travelers!” 

“We’re alright, it’s fine,” Aether said with a laugh. 

“Well, I’m glad. Dang, you did a number on the Simurgh,” Nadia said, inspecting the beating her paper mache Simurgh had taken. “Why are you carrying bats? Do you play sports?”

“This is the honorable and noble weapon of a true Heroine,” Lumine said, holding forth her bat for Nadia to inspect. “It has slain many a vicious foe. Why, just yesterday, we were in Sariyatak, where this very bat slew a dozen slimes, and drove off a plague of whopper flowers.” 

“Ooooo,” Nadia said appreciatively, touching Lumine’s bat with obvious reverence.

“Don’t give her any ideas,” the man groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. 

“Are you Nadia’s father? Don’t worry, my sister and I are fine, as is Paimon,” Aether told him. 

“Me? Thank Allah, no! I’m Fadiy, her minder. But Miss Nadia is excited for the Sabzeruz festival. She wants to have Nahida over for a surprise, and she decided to make this contraption,” Fadiy said, nudging the destroyed effigy. 

“Are you an aranara?” Nadia asked Paimon, who was now stuffing her mouth with so much candy she looked like a hamster with its cheek pouches full. 

“No, Paimon is Paimon!” their guide huffed. She was doing a remarkably good job of translating the speech back and forth, even with a mouthful of sweets. “These are my friends, and we’re looking for the Dendro Archon, actually! We need to find our way back home, we were sent here from another world.”

Nadia’s eyes went wide. “Are you from Teyvat too!? Nahida’s from Teyvat! So are the aranara…I think. I don’t think I’ve ever asked. We should find out if they know a way back home, they know lots of things!” 

“We’re from Earth, but a very different one. Our home country was Genshin,” Lumine explained. “Teyvat was an old empire on the Honkai continent.” 

“Yeah, we’re just looking for a way home. We miss our friends and family,” Aether agreed. 

“Paimon was from Teyvat! And Paimon wants to get home too!” the little fairy added. Then her expression fell, and some of the candy slipped through her fingers. “E-even…even if that means Paimon won’t get to journey with the Travelers anymore…”

“Wow, so cool! You’ll definitely want to talk to Nahida then. She’s super smart! I’m her best friend though. We go to school together sometimes, and we play games, and even have sleepovers!” Nadia said proudly. 

“Is there any way you could get us a meeting with the Dendro Archon?” Lumine asked hopefully. 

Chest puffing out with pride, Nadia nodded. “Of course, I can! You just have to help me fix my Simurgh, and we can take it to her as a present!” 

A short time later, they were up to their elbows in paper, glue, feathers, and candy. Aether blew a feather off of his nose and made a face at Lumine. “There’s always something…”

“Hey, at least we’re making progress! This beats getting lost in the Taurus Mountains for two months,” Lumine pointed out. 

“Ugh, and hopefully this place doesn’t have a mad Tinker doing something weird with goats,” Aether said with a shudder. 

“Do not worry, Gold-Nara. Sarva-nara has school for tinkering, but no goats! Lots of coco-goats though!” 

Lumine and Aether blinked, then looked down to see an aranara looking back up at them, dobs of glue on its face. 

“Oh hi! Are you a fairy too!?” Paimon gasped, zooming down to the aranara’s level and smiling eagerly. “Everyone says Paimon is a fairy, but Paimon is just Paimon! Paimon doesn’t think she is an aranara, but Paimon gets lonely sometimes…”

“Silver-nara is not an aranara. Silver-nara is made of stars and light and shadow, not dreams and trees,” the aranara said with a tinkling shake of its head. 

“Oh hi, Arana! Sorry, we don’t have Nahida’s present ready quite yet. I, um, dropped it,” Nadia admitted. 

“Hello, Rose-nara. That is OK. Arana will help finish present for Sarva-nara!” the forest spirit said happily, her petals whirling so she could hover up to stick a few feathers into the Simurgh-pinata. 

After another hour or so, they had the pinata finished. Aether hung it in the sun to dry, and Sajy, Nadia’s mother, brought them falafel for lunch. Everyone ate, save for Arana, who was happy with a few spritzes of water and some moist soil. 

After that, there was nothing left but to take the pinata through the city to the House of Wisdom. It was several kilometers, so they rode in a cart pulled by a dendrosaur. The city was filled with flowers and banners, as well as many kites that were rising up into the air on strings. A few were shaped with the Simurgh, with fangs and malevolent red eyes, but far more were shaped like Nahida. A few were red butterflies, made to look like her adoptive mother Farasha, and others were long and serpentine to resemble Flower Dragon. 

There were small celebrations everywhere, with people setting off sparklers, playing music, and small games for children. The scent of food filled the air as well, with plenty of vendors hawking wares. Many were also giving out candy to children, and to passing aranara as well. They were starting to appear everywhere, and while they had little interest in the candy themselves, they dutifully thanked those that gave it to them, before flying off in the same direction Lumine and her party were going. 

“Last year, Nahida’s birthday was really scary,” Nadia explained. She shuddered, and for a moment her chipper smile broke, replaced by a grimace of fear. “I was with her in class when she told us the Hopekiller was coming. Mrs. Wafa was our teacher then, and she took us to the shelter. We were really scared…but then, Nahida saved us! And then I saved Nahida!” 

“That’s not what happened,” Fadiy sighed, shaking his head. 

“Shhhh! I’m telling the story. So, anyway, I knew where my dad kept all the guns! It was a secret, but he was actually a super cool mafia don!” Nahida said excitedly. 

“Nadia!” Fadiy croaked, his head whipping around as Lumine covered her mouth to hide a smile.

“What? He’s not a bad guy mafia don! He’s like, a cool, noble one! Now he helps people instead of robbing them, because I saved Nahida and got rid of Rotten Saddam!” Nadia declared, standing up proudly on the dendrosaur and planting her hands on her hips.

“We ran into him, actually,” Aether said in amusement. 

Nadia frowned at him. “You’re making that up.”

“No, it’s true! He was a dendrosaur pooper scooper,” Aether assured her. 

That made Nadia burst into giggles. “Hehe! Nahida did do that. She felt really guilty about it, but I think it’s funny!”

“It is poetic justice,” Lumine agreed with a laugh. 

A short time later, they arrived at the House of Wisdom. Lumine gaped at the structure in awe. It was less of a building, and more of a forest. Massive trees over 150 meters tall, the size of skyscrapers, that were visible from a distance, but up close, were awe inspiring. They were actually growing over existing buildings, and several of the trees were growing together to form a single, massive tree trunk. It would be decades if not centuries before that happened, but still. 

Flowers bloomed everywhere, and there were tinkling fountains all around. Colorful birds nested amidst the branches, as did flying dendrosaurs. Pterodendros? Lumine wasn’t sure. There were also hundreds of aranara, buzzing about or waddling on the ground. 

And the people! Lumine had seen pictures of Iraq from several decades ago, mostly of people in drab and somewhat shabby clothing. But these people were wearing wonderful clothing of all the colors of the rainbow. The green of dendro, Nahida Saeed’s colors, prevailed, but they were far from the only colors. There was a large group that had clothes of a similar cut, but their styles were very different. 

“Those are students here at the House of Wisdom. The color tells you what they’re learning! Did you know a bunch of them are learning magic!? Nahida’s taught me some magic too!” Nadia said as Fadily let them off before taking the dendrosaur to the stables. 

“I’d heard about that. I was surprised to learn there was no mystic arts here on Earth before Parahumans. There was plenty of magic back home,” Aether said. “Though, we didn’t think of it as strange. Just a different set of tools. My sister and I were mostly just into computers and tech though.”

“Oh, you’d be Kshahrewar then! They wear white,” Nadia said, pointing to a group of students in white robes. They were overseeing what looked to be a robotics zoo: all of the robots were shaped like various animals and were reenacting life in nature. One of the robots, shaped like a giant four-legged crab, was currently on the fritz, and the students seemed to be trying to fix it. 

“Interesting. Maybe they could make a portal back home,” Lumine mused. 

“I keep trying to get Nahida to let them reenact Battlebots, but she says robots shouldn’t fight one another,” Nadia said with a sigh. “What’s the point of robots if they don’t even fight?”

They went further into the school, where even more wondrous things could be seen, from a small amusement park with carousels and roller coasters grown from plants, to a great kitchen serving dishes of all kinds. The entire place was gripped by a festival air, and if Lumine hadn’t been on such an important mission, she could have spent days exploring everything. 

They were just passing a choir of aranara singing to the crowd, when Lumine noticed a little girl wandering alone. Unlike everyone else, she had a dazed expression, and was holding tight to a large hairy coconut in her hands, with tears in her eyes. She looked rather strange, with pale white hair, and pink eyes, her coloration like an albino. “Hey, are you lost?” Lumine said, kneeling in front of the child.

“Cocogoat,” the little girl said mournfully, holding the coconut up to Lumine. 

“Qiqi, what are you doing here? Where’s your mom and dad?” Nadia asked, coming up to the other girl

“Qiqi get cocogoat,” Qiqi said, as if that explained everything. 

“Yeah, you would run away for a coconut,” Nadia said with a shake of her head. “Here, let me see.”

Qiqi reluctantly handed over her treasure, and Nadia produced a large knife, with which she expertly cut a hole into the fruit.

“Dare I ask why you have a knife like that?” Aether said with a slight frown. Nadia couldn’t have been more than seven. 

“My dad always says it’s better not to ask questions you would rather not know the answer to,” Nadia said airily. 

“Relax, a girl’s gotta have a knife for cutting open coconuts for her friend,” Lumie said, elbowing Aether. He rolled his eyes as Qiqi eagerly took the coconut back, lifting it to her lips and eagerly sucking down the coconut water. 

“Qiqi! There you are! Oh, and Nadia! Thank you for finding her,” a woman with green hair said, hurrying up. She had an anemo vision on her chest and was dressed in black robes with green ribbons. 

“Hi Aunty Faruzan!” Nadia said. “We came to give Nahida a birthday present! It’s a pinata.”

Wincing, Faruzan forced a smile on her face. “Nadia, what have I told you about calling me aunty?”

“That aunty is for old people and you’re not old yet. But aren’t you like forty? That’s super old,” Nadia said seriously, and Qiqi nodded. 

“Aunty,” she agreed between gulps of coconut.

“Forty isn’t that old! And besides, I’m still in my thirties!” Faruzan huffed. She turned to Aether and Lumine. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Are you watching these two trouble makers?”

“They’ve been no trouble at all, ma’am. I, uh, mean, Miss Faruzan,” Aether said, correcting himself as Faruzan glared at him. 

“These are the Travelers, and Paimon is Paimon!” their guide chirrupted happily. 

“Oh? And what are you? Your clothing…it’s incredible,” Faruzan said, reaching out to finger Paimon’s garments. 

“Oh, these? Paimon put on her original clothes for today, since it’s a special day! They’re very fancy,” Paimon said, preening at the attention. 

“Fascinating! They remind me of the garments Nahida showed me from Teyvat,” Faruzan mused. 

“Really?!” Paimon zipped right up into Faruzan’s face, causing her to jerk back slightly. “Do you think Paimon is from Teyvat too!? Could Lesser Lord Kusinali send Paimon and the Travelers home!?” 

“I…I’m not sure! You’d have to ask Nahida. But it’s almost time for the Sabzeruz Festival to begin,” Faruzan said. “I need to get Qiqi back to Nahida, they’re to ride in the Flower Carriage together.”

“But what about her present?!” Nadia gasped. 

“I’ll make sure she gets it. It will go in a special place of honor in front of all the others,” Faruzan said, taking the pinata from Aether. 

“Ok. Come on, let’s get good places to watch!” Nadia said, grabbing Lumine and Aether’s hands and leading them out of the House of Wisdom, down the streets, and up to the top of a building that she somehow knew would have an unlocked gate at the rear. 

“Shouldn’t we tell Fadiy where we are?” Aether asked as they looked down at the street.

“Nah, he’ll figure out where I am eventually, he always does,” Nadia said with a shrug. 

They stayed on the roof for an hour, with Nadia falling asleep in Lumine’s lap, while Paimon snored in Aether’s arms. The two siblings sat in the shade of a tree that was growing atop the building, enjoying some peace and quiet. 

“Do you think this will be the end of our journey? Truly?” Lumine asked her brother, feeling her heart race nervously. 

“It’s the end of a journey,” Aether said quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping children. “But it’s the start of another. Where that will lead…I don’t know. But no matter where we go, we have each other.” 

“Yeah. Together,” Lumine agreed.

Not long after that, music suddenly swelled, and shouts filled the air. 

“Hmm? Is it starting? You were supposed to wake Paimon,” the sleepy fairy said, scrubbing at her eyes with her hands. 

“It’s starting!” Nadia cheered, running to the edge of the roof and peering over. “Listen! They’re chanting, ‘sahib al'amal!’ Hopebringer!” 

They didn’t have to wait long. While the parade was a great snaking procession that was many kilometers long, at the head rode Nahida in a flower carriage. It was shaped a bit like a flower bud, and was festooned with flowers of every imaginable kind. It was drawn by two strutting dendrosaurs with feathered plums on their heads and garbed in dresses of flowers. 

Riding in the driver’s seat were Dr. Bashir Saeed and his wife, Farasha Saeed. Farasha was just starting to show her pregnancy, and instead of her usual black and red uniform, was dressed in white, with a garland of red roses in her dark hair. Next to her, her husband had on a green turban and green robe, with a white serpent entwined around his neck. 

And behind them, amidst a cushion of flowers, were their daughters, Nahida and Qiqi, holding hands and waving to the crowd. Qiqi was still waving her hand backwards, as if to herself, but she seemed happy enough. Probably because of the dozen coconuts around her. 

Nahida herself wore a crown of flowers, with a bright green dress of cotton spread about her. She waved merrily to the crowd, but when she saw Nadia, she laughed and called to her by name. “Nadia! You have to come to my party later!” Her voice was soft and musical, but it carried easily to everyone’s ears. 

“I WILL!” Nadia screamed back. “I’M BRINGING MY NEW FRIENDS! THEY’RE FROM TEYVAT TOO!” 

Nahida’s eyes went big at that, but she only nodded, and with a final wave, rode away in her carriage. Behind her, Tessa the Flower Dragon walked with an honor guard of Aranara in her humanoid form, waving to the crowd herself. After that came bands, government officials on dendrosaurs, and dozens upon dozens of students. 

There were also dignitaries from every nation, save for one notable by its absence: Imperial Russia had sent no dignitaries to the Sabzeruz festival. Every other nation, from the United States to the Vatican itself, had sent representatives. Far from repudiating Nahida, the Holy See had recognized her as an angel of a similar nature to Barbados. 

The parade lasted for hours and hours, until well after sunset. At that point, Nadia convinced Aether to give her a ride on his shoulders, and they made their way to a small doctor's office near the city’s former slums.  While on the next day there would be a grand celebration with important people and heads of state, tonight, Nahida was celebrating with her friends and family alone. 

There were guards, at least, not those that would be visible to most people. The door was kept by the aranara, who had mostly gone back to being invisible to adults. Lumine only noticed that when an aranara had to dodge out of the way of a man’s footsteps, though she herself could still see them. Apparently, she was still an innocent at heart, which was a bit silly considering what she’d been through. 

“Gold-nara and silver-nara are invited to the party, Sarva-nara says so!” Arana told them as they approached Nahdia’s home. 

“Thank you,” Lumine told the little fae. “Um, do we need to check our weapons?”

“Sarva-nara did not say so. But butterfly-nara is very protective. Arana would not bring weapons.”

Wisely, Lumine and Aether left their bats outside. 

On the inside, the home was humbler than Lumine had expected. The most extravagant things were the shelves and shelves of books, and the exotic plants both inside and outside in the garden. Beyond that, it could have been the home of any small family, with worn plates and slightly scuffed but clean floors. 

The guestlist, however, was anything but ordinary. Lumine hadn’t been in this world long, but she knew that Farasha was a name to be reckoned with. Once the most terrifying parahuman in the Middle East, she had traded in her ornate white dress for a simpler dress and slippers. Tessa, the Dendro Dragon, was in the kitchen with the Dendro cooking dinner, which smelled wonderful and seemed to include dino nuggies. Dr. Bashir was entertaining Qiqi and Nadia (and Paimon) with a few simple tricks with his vision, while Aether and Lumine could only look on, wide eyed. 

“So, you two are from Nahida’s neck of the woods, huh? Did you know her back home?” Farasha asked them. 

Lumine shook her head. “Not exactly. I don’t think we’re from the same world as Nahida, though we are from another world.” 

“We were sort of hoping she could show us how to get back home,” Aether added. 

“Huh. Well, she’s a smart little radish! Maybe she can help you out,” Farasha said with a shrug. 

“Pardon, did you say you were from another world? Could you tell me about it? I’ve been fascinated by the concept for many years,” Dr. Bashir said, leaning over. 

Before any potentially awkward questions could be announced, Tessa announced, “Dinner time!” 

The table was cleared away, and steaming dishes were loaded onto the plain wooden table. There was biryani; rice served with spices and flowers and topped with lamb, panipuri; fried bread filled with potatoes, onions, and chickpeas with a spicy gravy, fruit salads made with harra fruit and lotus blossoms, butter chicken curry, and a special dish that Nahida called “Halvamazd” that was made with candied ajilenakh nuts, almonds, and garnished with roses. And of course, Dendrosaur Nuggies, with garlic and yogurt sauce. 

Everyone dug in, and there was so much food that even Paimon was able to eat until she was barely able to float. During the meal, Lumine watched Lesser Lord Kusinali, though she insisted, “Call me Nahida.”

The Dendro Archon didn’t look human, with her pointed ears, glowing green eyes, and silver hair. But she laughed, talked, and played with the other children (and Paimon) just like any other little girl would. She seemed…happy. Content. Lumine questioned if this was really an Archon, really the Hopebringer who had liberated mankind from the terror of the Simurgh. 

When the meal was finished, Bashir and Farasha went to clean up in the kitchen, with Farasha saying that, “It’s the only time anyone trusts me with a frying pan and spatula!” 

Nadia and Qiqi left with Tessa to prepare some last minute party favors, which left the Travelers alone with Nahida at the kitchen table. 

“Would you like to see my garden?” Nahida asked, almost shyly. 

“Of course, we’d love to,” Lumine agreed, and her brother nodded. Paimon was sleeping on the bench, somnolent after gorging herself. 

They stepped outside into the evening air, Nahida walking barefoot on the still warm stones. “I first came to this world two years ago. When I woke up, I wasn’t riding in a flower carriage, but a truck bed filled with produce. I was frightened, and scared, having not left the sanctuary of my imprisonment in five centuries. How did you first arrive upon this world, Travelers?”

“We arrived during a Simurgh attack,” Aether said, his tone tight. “We had just been at school, waiting for our Aunt and Uncle. We were staying late after class for gaming club, but the other members had already left.”

“Then, well, I’d call it a hole, maybe a wormhole? Opened up and swallowed us, along with most of the computer lab,” Lumine continued. “It dumped us out in the middle of this secret base. There was a man there. He…he’d gone crazy. He was ranting about unveiling the universe, and he had a giant machine that had created the wormhole. There were sparks everywhere, and fire too.”

“It was some sort of secret government facility, filled with Tinkertech. At least, we think so. We’ve been able to only piece together a little,” Aether added. “Anyway, it was on fire, and the smoke tasted like acid. We couldn’t get back through the portal, it had already closed. We struggled our way out, the man ranting at us until he succumbed to the fumes.”

“But we were trapped, we couldn’t find a way out. We stayed low, like you’re supposed to do in a fire. We found our way into another room and shut the door, but we knew that it was only a brief respite,” Lumine explained. 

“That’s where we found Paimon, and two vials. Paimon was unconscious, trapped in this tank. But she was alive and breathing, we could see that. With the fire coming, we were desperate, so we opened the tank and revived her.”

“She didn’t know who we were, or what was going on, or where we were. But she could read the instructions on the vials,” Lumine added, closing her eyes, recalling the chaos and flames, Paimon babbling almost incoherently, but blessedly in a language she and her brother knew. 

“The vials would grant us powers she said. She didn’t know the risks, we didn’t either. But we needed…something. Anything. Or we’d die trapped in that warehouse in the fire. So…we drank the vials,” Aether admitted. 

“It hurt. It hurt so much,” Lumine said, shuddering and hugging herself. She could remember ice and flames racing through her veins, feeling as though her mind would explode, seeing visions of horrific creatures the size of solar systems gobbling up entire planets like mad locusts.  “I thought I was going to die. Until…Paimon hugged me.”

“She hugged both of us. After that, the visions we saw calmed, and whatever was in those vials didn’t kill us. It did give us powers, make us parahumans,” Aether said, holding up his hand. A distortion in the air rippled over his fingers, and he shot a pebble into the night sky with a thunderous crack. 

“I can tell you what was in those vials, but first, finish your story,” Nahida urged. 

“There isn’t much else to tell,” Lumine said with a shrug. “We used our powers to break out and escape the flames, then fight through a city gone mad. The Simurgh had stopped her song and left, but there were thousands, tens of thousands, of maddened zombies trying to kill and destroy everything around them. So, we fled. Ran as fast as we could. Somehow got through the cordon, and started our journey.”

“We’ve met Lord Barbados, but he couldn’t help us, much. So we came to you. Hoping you’d have answers. Hoping you’d have a way home,” Aether said, kneeling down to look hopefully at Nahida.

She gave him a sad smile, then a quick hug, before going over to hug Lumine as well. “First, I want you to know that if you ever need somewhere safe to stay…you’re always welcome here. And to not give you false hope, I do not know how to get you home. I myself have no way back to Teyvat.”

A lump formed in Lumine’s throat, and she nodded. “T-thank you, anyway. Well, I suppose-”

“Wait, just a moment,” Nahida urged them. “I said I could tell you what was in those vials. It’s important that you know. What you drank, it was from Cauldron. They were bits of a dead god, harvested and placed in those vials in an attempt to grant mortals powers they should not hold. They would have turned you into parahumans. But they didn’t.”

“What? But, we are parahumans. We have powers,” Aether said in confusion. “You saw, right?”

“You have powers, but you are not parahumans,” Nahida said firmly. “Someone changed the path of those powers. Awakened those bits of a dead god. Merged them fully with your souls. A bit like what Lord Barbatos does with his Knights who are possessed. Though they were not of you, these powers are now truly yours.”

“Huh? You mean, Venti changed our powers?” Lumine asked curiously. 

Nahida shook her head. “No. I think someone else did. And I think you know who.”

The twins blinked, then shared a startled look. “Paimon!?”

“Yes. Paimon is also of Teyvat,” Nahida confirmed. “And by her coloring and the constellations that follow her…well. I have some guesses. But she is not malevolent, so do not fear. She truly is your trusty guide and travel companion.”

“But…do you know what Paimon is?” Aether urged. 

“I have suspicions. Guesses. Nothing more. You refer to her as a fairy, and that is a good name for what she is: a fae, a child of magic and wonder,” Nahida said with a smile. 

“But what about finding a way home? You said Cauldron was responsible for this. Could they help?” Lumine asked hopefully. 

“Do not stray into the godless land you came from. Should they find you, your journey will end, and you will fall into the Abyss, as lost Khaenri’ah did,” Nahida warned, her eyes glowing even more brightly in the dim light. 

“That sounds…ominous,” Aether said, frowning. 

“You must continue your journey to its end. Though there are many trials and travails ahead of you, one day, you will find your home,” Nahida promised them. 

Hope fluttered in Lumine’s heart, and she teared up slightly. She stepped closer to her brother, and both put their arms around each other, taking comfort in the only piece of home they had left. 

“There is one other thing I can offer you,” Nahida said. “Stay here tonight, sleep, and Dream. There is power in Dreams, and perhaps you will find what you need to continue on.” 

Before Lumine could ask what that meant, Farasha stuck her head out. “Hey, you’d better hurry! It’s time for cake, and if we make Qiqi wait much longer she’s liable to burst!” 

The cake was formed in the shape of a giant radish, but the interior was coconut flavored. They had homemade pistachio ice cream to go with it, and though Lumine had thought she’d been full, she found room for two entire servings. After that, she was very grateful that Nahida had offered to let them sleep over, as she didn’t have the energy to try to find somewhere to sleep. She and her brother took the guest room, with Paimon sleeping between them. She drifted off, warm and content, feeling safe for the first time in months.

“Lumine? Lumine! Wake up, you’ll miss the sunrise!” 

Blinking, Lumine sat up. She blinked groggily for a moment, and a warm cup was shoved into her hands. “Come on, we’ve waited the whole year for this! It would be a shame if you missed the sunrise on Honkai Dawn.”

For a moment, Lumine couldn’t believe her eyes. Then she let out a strangled cry, shoving the cup onto the nightstand and wrapping her arms around her Aunt. “Aunty Himeko!” 

“Oh? What’s wrong, Lumine? Did you have a nightmare?” her aunt asked, gently patting Lumine’s back. 

“I…I thought I’d lost you,” Lumine gasped, squeezing as tightly as she could. “I had a dream, that I was on a journey, that I-”

Lumine cut herself off. She grabbed the cup of coffee, then looked around the room. Spotting her Seele MK-II gunpla, she extended a hand, trying to swap the coffee with the model. But nothing happened. She lowered her hand, staring at it, confused. 

Pursing her lips, Himeko put a hand to Lumine’s forehead. “Are you sick? You’re acting strangely. Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to miss a Honkai Sunrise,” Lumine said, and that was when she made a grievous mistake.

She actually drank some of her aunt’s coffee. Not just a little. The whole thing. It was so sickeningly sweet and syrupy that Lumine almost gagged on it. But the sugar and caffeine started pounding in her ears, and she knew there was no chance she could go back to sleep any time soon. 

“I’m awake now,” she said, her teeth practically chattering. “Let’s…let’s go see the sunrise!” 

They stepped out into the hall, and Lumine felt her heart lurch again as she saw her brother coming out of his bedroom with a familiar figure. “Uncle Welt!” 

“Ooof! Hold on there, Lumine. You’re going to break an old man’s bones,” he grumbled. “Your brother did the same thing. You’re acting like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“Is it wrong for a niece to want to give her uncle a hug?” Lumine asked, breathing in deeply. She could smell the ink and grease on her uncle, he’d been working late again. 

“I suppose not, especially not on a Honkai Sunrise. Come on, if we stand around here all day, we’ll miss it,” Uncle Welt said, but he did give Lumine a tight squeeze back. 

“Oh, I almost forgot, I need to wake our guest too,” Himeko said, stepping down the hall into the guest bedroom.

“Guest?” Lumine asked, looking to Aether, who seemed as baffled as her. “Aether, do you remember…?”

“All of it. But I think I might know who the guest is,” Aether said, hurrying past her. Lumine scrambled after, just as she heard Himeko say,

“Wakey, wakey, Paimon!” 

“Mmmm, just five more minutes, Paimon is sleepy,” their faithful companion said, sprawled out on a bed that was far too large for her. She suddenly jerked up, panic on her face. “Travelers! D-don’t leave-”

“We’re here, Paimon,” Lumine said, hurrying over to wrap the frightened fairy in a hug. 

“T-that’s good! You weren’t here when Paimon woke up, and Paimon was scared she was alone again,” Paimon sniffled. 

“Never,” Lumine assured her friend. “Promise.”

Paimon nodded, and they looked up to see concern on Welt and Himeko’s face. 

“Are you both alright? You’ve all been acting strangely,” Himeko said.

“Yes, is something wrong?” Welt agreed, putting an arm around his wife. 

“No, nothing. It’s fine,” Lumine said, dashing her tears away with her forearm. She gave Aether a sad smile. “Just a dream.”

“A dream,” he agreed, his own tone melancholic. “But, a good one.”

They did watch the sunrise together, the Travelers, Paimon, and their beloved Aunt and Uncle. The sun rose over their city, the darkness of the Impact washed away by the Honkai Sunrise, honoring the victory that had been won hundreds of years ago. They could see it all, the gleaming buildings, the tranquil parks, and the roads floating up to the stars above. 

“We’ll be back, someday,” Aether said, squeezing Lumine’s hand. “We’ll find our way home.”

“Yeah. Home,” Lumine agreed. But she didn’t look at her aunt and uncle. She looked at Paimon, who seemed so content and happy, hovering beside Lumine’s head. 

When the journey ended…what was left afterwards? 

But it wasn’t time to think about that now. For this night, this moment, they had a Dream of the past to share. A Dream where they could be with their family they had left behind, and the treasured companion they’d found along the way. Did it matter if it was just a Dream. 

Perhaps. But it was a Dream that Lumine wanted to strive for. 

PHILO: How typical. Even on her own birthday, the Little Radish finds greater joy in giving than in simple receiving. Most Lords would call her lesser for her naivety and kindness, but how much greater would the world be if all Lords were Lesser like Nahida?

The Second Archon War: Comedia Glacialis 15

Comedia Glacialis 15: The Dancer’s Costume Changes, the Thief’s Grand Reveal

The bedsheets rustled, and Anastasia turned around to see Thoma sitting up. She smiled at him, returning to the bedside to give him a kiss. 

“Up already?” he asked, returning the kiss groggily and scrubbing his face with his hand. His cheek was still rough, with red stubble showing. 

“Yes. I need to get a practice session in before…” she trailed off, swallowing. 

“It will be fine,” Thoma said, taking her hands gently. He was always so gentle with her. “It’s been months. Surely he’s accepted that you’ve made your choice.”

Anastasia could only bite her lip and nod. There were few times in her life that Anastasia could recall her brother ever changing his mind about anything. He’d always been stubborn and determined, as well as possessive. In the past, it had been flattering, or even comforting, to have someone who would protect her and treasure her. 

Now, however, her brother was showing her the same vicious face she had long known he wore when he faced the world. Before, she could pretend it didn’t exist. Now, however…

Now she just felt powerless. 

The one place that Anastasia still felt in control was during her dances. She’d always been good, but lately, she’d thrown everything she had into the practices for the upcoming new ballet, The Grand Imperium, that had been composed to honor the Tsaritsa’s arrival on Earth Bet, to be shown at the Crystal Theater here in New Moscow. 

Despite fierce competition, Anastasia had been selected to play the role of the Tsaritsa herself. She hoped that she had received the honor because of her own skill, not because of who her brother was, or who she was sleeping with. The anxiety about that had soured what was the role of a lifetime. Wasn’t Anastasia worthy of something on her own? 

She drove herself hard during practice, going through the complicated motions until her toes began to blister. That was rare, as she had the very best shoes, but she was forced to take a break before she hurt herself to the point she couldn’t dance. 

“You were dancing like the devil was after you today, Nastya. Excited that your brother is returning?” one of the other dancers asked. 

She smiled and laughed. “Of course! It has been too long since I’ve seen Tolney. He’s been in America for months now.”

Her heart, however, was much less certain.

The New Moscow Airport was still under construction; the Tsaritsa was not familiar with such facilities, due to the fact that her homeworld had no airplanes. That meant that Anatoly had flown first to Smolensk, and from there would take a helicopter. There was a helipad near the palace, those being much easier to construct, so Anastasia waited with Thoma, Kollei, and the Tsaritsa, along with a contingent of the fatui as the helicopter descended. 

Anastasia’s heart was in her throat as her brother disembarked, turning back to help Elena. He was dressed smartly as always, in a white suit with his Cryo Vision as a cravat on his breast. When his cold blue eyes met Anastasia’s, her mouth went dry. But then, her heart froze in her chest as his gaze slid over her as though she were not even there. 

Both Anatoly and Elena walked first to the Tsaritsa, both of them falling to one knee before her. 

“Everything is prepared,” Anatoly said, his eyes on the ground. “Soon, the curtain will rise, and my grand performance shall begin.”

The Tsaritsa smiled, extending a hand to lightly caress Anatoly’s head. “Most excellent, my Thief. Rise. There is much to discuss and plan this day.”

Anatoly stood, and as the Tsaritsa turned, he locked gazes with Thoma. “We will have much to discuss, you and I. About the debt you owe me.”

“I have always admired you, Anatoly. And I am grateful for what you did for me. For your sister’s hand, I would do anything you ask,” Thoma said gravely. 

“Including betray me,” Anatoly sneered. 

Anastasia opened her mouth, but Elena put a hand on her arm. Silently, Elena shook her head. 

Fighting back tears of frustration, Anastasia could only listen. 

“There was no betrayal. I asked for your blessing, but you refused me. But the love I feel for your sister is real. What Anastasia and I have together-”

“Is a farce. You used your position to sneak into her bed,” Anatoly snarled, his Vision glowing brightly as he leaned towards Thoma, who remained nonplussed. 

“That was never my intention, and it is why we waited to inform you of our attraction before I took her to bed,” Thoma said, his voice calm. But Anastasia could see the muscles of his neck tensing, hear the slight rasp. She knew he was on the verge of exploding in anger himself. 

“Oh, so you have remained chaste? You have not touched my sister?” Anatoly laughed. 

She couldn’t take it any more. “Tolney, we-”

“Silence!” Anatoly snapped, turning to glare at her. “This is men’s business. Your betrayal wounds me, but we can yet be reconciled if you but beg my forgiveness and return to my side.”

Hot anger made for hotter tears that burned down Anastasia’s cheeks, and she hated herself for her weakness. “I am your sister, not your doll! Nor am I a child! If I choose to sleep with Thoma, it is no business of-”

The back of Anatoly’s hand flashed towards Anastasia’s cheek and she recoiled, only for it to bounce off of a red shield in a burst of flames. Still, she took a step back in startlement, only her training allowing her to maintain her balance. 

Thoma had transformed, taking on the appearance of a horned demon with a burning mask, his clothes shedding to reveal an armored form. In his hands was a trident with barbed red tips, and he was pointing it at Anatoly!

Touch her, and suffer. She is my lover. By her choice.

“SHE IS MY SISTER!” Anatoly roared, and a blast of ice struck the fiery demon. He had a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, and the two combatants were locked for a brief moment, both snarling and straining to get at one another. 

Horror filled Anastasia’s mind, and she tried to scream. How could this happen?! Her entire world was collapsing! 

And then, something snapped. She saw a vision of stars, of an endless space, vast and horrifying in its emptiness, and saw a vision of terrible shadows that filled her mind with-

Enough.

Anastasia blinked, and found the Tsaritsa at her side, holding her up, a grim look on her face. 

But it had not been the Tsaritsa who had spoken. 

Kollei had separated the two combatants, a thick web of frozen vines wrapping about both men, a look of fury on her face. She was floating in mid air, a halo of frost covered branches hovering over her head. You two were friends. Brothers! And this is how you treat one another? Uncle Anatoly, I admired you! You were a refined gentleman, a hero who helped rescue me! And Uncle Thoma, a valiant knight! Now you brawl like school children! Must I discipline you, or will you cease? 

F-forgive me, Princess. I should have restrained myself, Thoma gasped, looking contrite despite his demonic mask. 

“I…apologize. I was overwrought. You have my sincere regrets,” Anatoly said through gritted teeth.

“Hmph.” The halo vanished, and Kollei set back down. She waved a hand, and the branches restraining the two men vanished. 

But Anastasia could barely focus on that. There was a terrible pain in her head, and when she touched a hand to her left ear, it was damp. When she inspected her fingers, they were crimson with blood. 

Thoma was the first to notice her state, but Anatoly was not far behind. Both raced up to her, reaching out their hands.

“”Nastya!””

“Do not approach,” the Tsaritsa said, scooping Anastasia up in her arms despite them being much the same size. “A demon has just possessed her. I must purge it.”

“I…what has…” Anastasia said weekly.

“Hush, my child. I will tend to you,” the Tsaritsa said firmly.

“Anastasia! Your Majesty, what has happened to her?” Thoma pleaded, while Anatoly was grimly silent, looking pale and horrified as Elena clutched at his arm. 

“Trigger event,” Kollei said, hurrying over and running a hand over Anastasia’s forehead. “My mother has blocked it somewhat, to prevent the demon from seizing hold of her. But we will have to work quickly. Allow me.”

Gentle vines wrapped themselves around Anastasia, and a warm green pulse filled her body, easing her pain. She closed her eyes and allowed unconsciousness to claim her. 

Sitting by Anastasia’s bedside, Kollei felt a sense of deja vu. It had been ten months since she’d sat with Anastasia at the Tsaritsa’s sickbed. Less than a year ago, but it felt like several lifetimes. So much had changed since then. Especially Kollei. 

She looked down at her Vision, which glowed with the emerald power of life itself. However, the glow was occluded by the layer of frost that rimmed its surface. She could feel both powers running through her body; the power of Life, and the power of Love. It was a heady mixture, and Kollei was still learning how to wield both effectively. 

She was thankful that she’d managed it so easily earlier. When Anatoly and Thoma had attacked on another, Kollei’s mind had actually calmed. Instead of becoming nervous and overanalyzing her situation as she usually did, she simply reacted, the training she’d undertaken with the Tsaritsa in controlling her powers coming to the forefront as she ended the conflict as swift as an icy wind. 

But now that the crisis had passed, Kollei’s hand trembled as she gathered Dendro energy and cast a simple spell to check Anastasia’s vitals. They were strong, but she was still in the coma that had overcome her. She bit her lip as she sensed the hole that was in Anastasia’s brain, as well as the void in her soul. The Demon had latched onto her during the Trigger event, but Kollei’s mother had acted swiftly to freeze it in time and space, preventing further damage for now. 

As Kollei continued her meditation, she sensed something. It was like an echo, or mirror seen through mists. It was the same as the place where she had met Lord Buer and her mother shortly after she’d received her Vision. The Dream. Anastasia was there now, struggling to fight her way back to consciousness, though Kollei was keeping her from waking. Hesitantly, Kollei reached out to soothe the other woman, and-

Bright light nearly blinded Kollei, and she raised a hand to block it. She blinked into the light, for a moment seeing only darkness before her. As her vision cleared, she realized it was a bright spotlight that was shining directly on her, while before her stood a vast chamber; a theater. She was standing on a stage, which was set to resemble the starry night sky. Though the scenery was a bit too real. Now that Kollei looked, she could see a vast night sky, full of great celestial objects. 

Looking directly overhead, Kollei gasped in shock: A massive, forbidding object hovered high above, its surface frozen solid. Beneath its ominous shadow, Kollei feared the thing would come crashing down, and obliterate her at any moment.

Her heart pounding, Kollei looked around. The only other person on the stage was Anastasia, who was dancing to music only she could hear, gracefully pirouetting and sliding across the black stone of the stage. 

“Nastya!” Kollei cried, tearing her gaze away from that horrible shadow and hurrying towards her friend. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

“I can’t stop dancing,” Anastasia said, her voice distant. “If I stop dancing, it will never fall. I have to touch it. If I do…I won’t be weak anymore.”

“That thing, it’s a demon!” Kollei said, pointing up to the horrible sphere. “If it touches you, it will drive you mad!”

“No, I’d be a parahuman. Like Thoma. I wouldn’t be anyone’s doll anymore,” Anastasia said in a sing-song voice, never ceasing her dancing. 

Kollei bit her lip, then glanced furtively up at the demonic moon. She could understand that feeling. She’d hated feeling powerless too. She knew her mother could use the Demons that caused Trigger events, that made parahumans, and turn them into Delusions. Could she…?

Kollei tentatively reached out, not with her body, nor with her mind, but with her Spirit, using the essence of Dendro to extend herself into the-

DATA. CONFLICT. CYCLE. SPECIMEN. WARRIOR. DATA. CONFLICT. CYCLE. SPECIMEN. WAR-

An icy hand gripped Kollei’s essence and ripped her back into her body, away from the Demon. She gasped for breath, and found herself lying on the stage, still in the dream, her mother kneeling over her. Only…not quite.

“That,” Bronya said, her expression grim. “Was exceedingly foolish, child.”

“Why…” Kollei gasped. “Why do you look so…human?”

Bronya blinked at her, then looked down at herself. She started, then barked out a laugh, even as Anastasia continued to dance behind them. “How ironic. Well. I suppose that this…” she gestured to herself, which was the same appearance she’d had in the dream with Lord Buer. “This is how I conceive of myself. Even after all these centuries. Not as the Archon, but as the girl I once was.”

It was true: there were flaws in her skin, freckles, a mole, and some other blemishes. “Dreaming was never something I excelled at. The Ice shows the shadows of the past, not the illusion of the present. It preserves and maintains, shows us reflections of a world that once was, not what might be. As a god, I can, of course, exert some Authority over the Dream, as I can create, and all creation stems from the Dream. But when I am here…I am shown as I see myself. A weak, pathetic, and foolish mortal child.”

“But, you’re so wise, and powerful! How could you think that about yourself?” Kollei asked, feeling dazed more by her mother’s words than by the mind-numbing cosmic horror she had just brushed against. 

“We all have our Delusions. Some are more persistent than others,” Bronya said. She helped Kollei to stand, and they both faced Anastasia. “Now…what to do with her. I did not think her so weak that she would snap and succumb to the Sustainer’s possession so easily.”

“It’s not her fault! She just…she wants to be strong! She wanted the power. Like…like I did,” Kollei admitted.

“Hmm.” Bronya considered that, then nodded. She snapped her fingers, and Anastasia started, faltering in her dance. She quickly caught herself, planting both feet gratefully as she blinked as one coming out of a deep sleep. 

“What, where…Thoma! Tolney! They did not-” she looked about, and spied Bronya and Kollei. Hastily, she stepped towards them, then fell to her knees, taking Bronya’s hand in supplication. “Your Majesty! Please, I have to stop them! Help me claim this power as my own! I don’t want to simply be a doll for anyone anymore! Make me one of your Harbingers, that I might be able to save those I love!” 

“You know not what you ask, Dancer,” Broyna said, sounding utterly weary. Where had this come from? Her mother was always so confident, so in command of everything and everyone around her. “I had hoped to spare you from this. You were to be a prized gem in my collection, unmarred by the troubles of this world.”

Anger flashed on Anastasia’s face, and she dropped Bronya’s hand, smoothly rising to her feet. “So, you see me as nothing but a toy either. You, my brother, my lover, everyone! I’m always just a pretty doll! Taken out to perform, and then set back on the shelf once I’ve done my dance! Well, no more! You see that? That fell moon above us? It’s mine! I will claim it! And I will be like the Nutcracker Prince, not Clara! I will come to life, and take up the sword! I will protect the innocent and weak, instead of becoming a bully like all the others!” 

One of Bronya’s pale eyebrows arched. “You would stand up to me, Dancer?”

“If it means earning your respect, yes! You have everything I want! You’re not just a trophy for someone else’s mantle! You are powerful and beautiful and…and my brother loves you, and respects you! Why…why can’t he do the same for me?” Anastasia pleaded. 

“Mother…I think…I think we should let her have the power she sought. It’s hers, isn’t it?” Kollei said quietly, glancing furtively up at the iced-over demon. 

“It will be a terrible path that I send her down. One does not become one of my Harbingers without paying a heavy price. Each must fully embrace their Delusions. Her brother believes himself a noble hero, while he is a a Thief. Her lover believes himself to be a noble knight and retainer, when he is but a Servant and demon. She will think herself a Dancer, when in truth, she will be a puppeteer,” Bronya said.

Anastasia didn’t seem to hear Bronya, still looking at her pleadingly. Kollei bit her lip again, gnawing at it as she tried to think. Was this right? 

“Is it better to live in peace without power, and be at the whims of those who have it, or to seize it for yourself, and live in conflict?” Kollei whispered, more to herself than anything.

“That, my daughter, is a question I have asked myself each day for the past five hundred years,” Bronya said, and there was no more weariness in her voice, but the strength of ice. “Very well. Anastasia Borisovna Kamisarova. I shall grant your request. Behold: the power you sought, and attained.”

For a brief instant, Anastasia looked ecstatic, going en pointe, and extending her arms upwards. 

Then the ice shattered, and what Kollei could only describe as a tendril of corruption stabbed out, striking Anastasia in the brain. She screamed in pain, and Kollei instinctively formed a ball of Dendro energy. 

But Bronya extended an arm, blocking Kollei. “No. She must fully become possessed. Her powers will be attenuated if she is not allowed to fully Trigger.. She will suffer agony as her Will and Body are reforged by the False Sustainer, to be the instrument of his vile Cycle.” 

Nodding, Kollei felt the tears in her eyes freeze, and she blinked away the crystals of ice. Without pain, there could be no growth, and without suffering, there could be no wisdom. So she could only watch as her friend was reforged by the Demon of the Cycle. 

At last, Anastasia lay upon the stage, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, her body soaked with sweat. The demon withdrew its tendril, and it began to retreat, fading back into the void it had come from. 

“I think not. You attempted to maim one of my own. There is a price for such, Demon,” Bronya hissed, and her sword formed in her hands, the great blade of ice and metal. With a single leap, she soared into the sky, and she was Bronya no longer, but the Tsaritsa. Beautiful and terrible, the Lord of Ice and God of Love. 

Space and time warped around her, but Kollei was able to keep her mother within her sight as the Tsaritsa approached the Demon. Her breath caught in her throat, as she realized the demon was truly the size of a moon, a thousand, a million times larger than her mother. It struck at the Tsaritsa, sending out waves of exotic energy, boulders the size of mountains, and crushing mental assaults that would have reduced a mortal’s body to dust, and mind to a gibbering slave. 

The Tsaritsa met the assault head-on. Her ice froze the alien energy to inertness, her strength shattered the boulders to frost, and her Love swept aside the mental assault like a feather in a blizzard. On the parry, she struck back at the demon. At first, it looked like an ant biting an elephant. 

Then, once more, the demon was covered in a thick layer of ice. The Tsaritsa touched down upon its surface, resting her blade upon her shoulder. 

NOW, I WILL EXTRACT THE PRICE OF THOSE WHO WOULD STEAL THE LOVE OF MY OWN FROM ME. 

With that, she plunged her sword into the body of the demon with both hands. It groaned and shuddered, great tremors rocking the ice so that it cracked and buckled, but did not dissipate. 

And then, the demon shattered into a million tiny pieces. Each was a flake of ice, drifting now upon the wind. The Tsaritsa extended her hand, and the snowflakes swirled into a ball at her fingertips. She crushed them together, and sparkling gems emerged. Delusions. 

Drifting back down, the Tsaritsa landed by Anastasia, who was still unconscious. She shimmered, and the regal god was gone, replaced once more by her own inner vision of herself: the mortal girl Bronya. 

“These demons are the power source for those they possess. Slaying one deprives a parahuman of their powers,” Bronya said, taking one of the Delusions she had crafted and holding it up to examine it. “However: even slain, a dead god, or demon, yet retains a great deal of power. It is corrosive to the mortal soul, but it grants great power.”

“You mean, Anastasia will be driven mad?” Kollei asked, horrified at the thought.

“No. I let her trigger fully and naturally. Her soul has already been reforged into a vessel for the demon’s power. Had I not, she would have inevitably used her own Soul and Life Force as fuel for her power. But now…”

The Tsaritsa pressed the glowing blue gem, like that of the yet to appear Hydro visions, into Anastasia’s forehead. It slid into her, vanishing. A moment later, her eyes fluttered open. She coughed, and Bronya helped her to sit up. 

“What…what has happened to me? I…I feel…” 

“You underwent a Trigger event, and attracted the attention of a demon. Today was the worst day of your life,” Kollei said, giving Anastasia a hug. “The good news is…it gets better from here.”

“I…I’m a Cape now?” Anastasia asked, hope blooming on her face. 

“No,” Bronya said, and pulled Anastasia up to her feet. “You are one of my Harbingers. Go forth, Dancer, and make the world step to your own tune.”

Anatoly paced about in the hall, doing his best to ignore the man sitting in a chair by the door. Once, Thoma had been his strong right hand. Now he was like all the others. Nipping at Anatoly’s heels, trying to take from him what was rightfully his. 

His eyes darted over to Elena, who was sitting at the other end of the hall, looking frightened. Good. She had to know she was his, and that he would not let her slip through his fingers. Shortly, he would confront her parents, and inform them that Elena was now his. It would all be his. 

All he had to do was finish this job. He was close. So close. He never actually thought he’d get an agreement with the Americans to tour their ultra-secret base with the remains of a dead god, but he was close. So close. His interference with the Slaughterhouse Nine the day before was to be the final tipping point. 

The door swung open, and Anatoly spun about. Kollei and the Tsaritsa stepped out, and Anatoly was there in an instant, barely noticing that Thoma was beside him. 

“Is she-” they began together, and both men paused to glare at one another. 

The Tsaritsa and Princess stepped aside, and Anastasia was there. A sense of relief flooded Anatoly; his sister, his precious little sister was well. He reached out for her, but something arrested his motion. His feelings for her swelled, and his muscles tensed up as his desire increased. Something was wrong. Anatoly had always doted on Anastasia, but he’d never felt…this. Not for her. She was his sister. 

“Brother. Tolney. Do you still seek to control me? To own me?” Anastasia’s voice demanded. She was so…beautiful. So wonderful.  He had to protect her. Had to have her. 

Oh God, what is wrong with me? 

“You…you are mine. I raised you. Protected you. I deserve you,” Anatoly found himself saying. “I want you. Give yourself to me.” 

And the worst part was…it was true. He did want her. So very, very badly. Wanted to dominate her. To possess her. Before he had simply wanted things to go back to the way they were when she was younger, when she worshiped and adored him, and only him. But now…he needed more. 

A tear slid down Anastasia’s cheek. She turned to Thoma. “And you? Am I nothing but a doll to you as well?”

“I…I need, you, Nastya,” Thoma said gruffly, and Anatoly wanted to snarl and bite at the man, but found he couldn’t even move. “I know I am not worthy, but…with you, I feel like I can be. You’re so strong, so beautiful…I want to protect you. To have you. To love you. Forever.”

Anastasia smiled and wept again, but her tears were less mournful, and more delighted. “Very well. Brother. I think it’s time we had this out. Come.”

Anatoly stumbled, finding himself released from whatever it was that had gripped him. He felt his heart race, and horror overcame him. Had he…and he truly wanted to…with Anastasia?! His sister!? And yet…there was a dark, lingering side of him…that did want her like that. 

But she was walking away, heading down the hall, Thoma half a step behind her. Anatoly strode off after her, Elana jumping to her feet and following him, but he ignored her. 

Anastaisa led them out to the courtyard of the Winter Palace, which was frozen over, even in early October. The air was chill, and his breath misted before him as he panted. Anastasia strode over to a frozen pond, walking out to the center, before turning to face him. 

“I will no longer bend myself to your will, Tolney. Now, you will bend to mine. So, come and claim me, if you can.”

“Nastya! Please, what are you doing?” Thoma gasped, struggling to reach her on the ice. 

“Thoma…if you love me, trust me. I must face this alone. He will never listen otherwise,” Anastasia said. 

Thoma’s face was filled with regret, one foot still on the ice. “Are…are you certain?”

She nodded. “I am. Trust me. Please.”

“Very well, my lady.” Bowing, Thoma backed off the ice. He strode towards Anatoly, lowering his voice. “If you hurt her…”

“I’ll take care of her, then you. I’ll show you how the Boss handles an insubordinate bro,” Anatoly snapped. 

Thoma growled, but he moved out of Anatoly’s path. 

“Anatoly, what are you doing?! Do you really wish to…to take her by force? She’s your sister!” Elena said, taking hold of Anatoly’s elbow. 

He shoved her away, and she fell down, gasping in pain. “Do not try to stop me from taking what is mine. Stay here. Once I claim her, I will remind you that you are mine as well.”

Elena didn’t respond, and Anatoly didn’t look down. He stalked out onto the ice, striding as easily as if it were solid ground thanks to his Cryo Vision. “Now, dear sister, let me remind you of the order of things…”

“I think not,” Anastasia said. “Times change, Anatoly. And while you were not looking, I have become a woman, and more. I am not your doll.”

The ice suddenly shuddered, then cracked, and water erupted from below, drenching Anatoly as he staggered and tried to keep his feet. The icy liquid wrapped itself around Anastasia, shifting and changing. It did not freeze, but instead wove itself into her, until she had changed form entirely. She stood now upon the liquid surface, dressed in an ornate ballerina’s outfit that was a deep azur hue, a strange symbol upon it. 

One that Anatoly would recognize when Hydro Visions began to appear. 

I am the Dancer. And now, I will make the world move to my tune.

Desperately, Anatoly froze the surface of the water to give himself something to stand on, then drew his gun. He aimed it at Anastasia, angry enough to fire. What had she even become?! This wasn’t his sister, this was-

Water strings reached out from Anastasia’s hands, latching on to Anatoly’s arms and legs. He found his limbs jerked aside, and that same overwhelming feeling of desire and longing overcame him. His body began to twitch and move not according to Anatoly’s wishes, but the strings that bound him. 

Goodbye, brother. I have made my choice.

Anatoly stepped over the edge, and into the icy pool. He tried to open his mouth to scream, and water rushed in. Blackness overcame him, and he lost consciousness. 

“What have you done?! You’ve killed him!” Elena wailed, rushing forward to the edge of the pond. She desperately tried to wade into the pool, but Anastasia used her strings to bind the other woman. 

“Don’t follow him into destruction, Elena,” Anastasia said. “If you wish to leave Anatoly…I will protect you. I have that power now.”

Elena glared at Anastasia, her cheeks red with tears. “You BITCH! Unlike you, I love him! I’m pregnant with his CHILD! Would you have your nephew born without a father!?” 

Anastasia jerked back. “I would not…I’m not going to kill him! How could you even think that!?”

“Your heart has frozen over like the rest. You just drowned your brother,” Elena spat. 

Anastasia sighed, then tugged on the strings that still bound Anatoly. He rose up out of the water, still and going blue from the cold. His vision was flickering, but had not dimmed yet. With a flick of her fingers, Anastasia drew the water out of Anatoly. It had taken a great deal of practice in the Dream to learn how to do that, but time passed differently there. A few twitches, and she forced Anatoly to breathe. He coughed and sputtered, and then she laid him out on the bank at Elena’s feet. 

“He is yours. Keep him. I have no further use for him,” Anastasia said, and turned her back on her one time protector. He would always be her brother, but she had no Love left for Anatoly. Not now. 

“That was incredible! The Tsaritsa has blessed you too!” Thoma said excitedly, rushing over to embrace Anastasia. 

For a moment, she nearly wrapped him in watery strings and bent him to her will as well. Then, she relaxed. He was Thoma. Her faithful knight. He would let her be free. 

“Yes. I choose you, Thoma,” she said, and returned his embrace, kissing him deeply. Behind her, Elena was resuscitating Anatoly. He would awaken soon. When he did, she wanted to be gone. 

“Come, Thoma. I feel so…alive. I want to share this with you as well,” she told him. 

They went back to their rooms in the palace, and Anastasia shut the door. Soon, their clothes were off, and they were embracing passionately on the bed. Before, Thoma had always been stronger than her, even before he’d received his Delusion. Now, however, she had a strength of her own. 

He held her down gently, but Anastasia was done being the lesser partner, the one who lay back and let others have their way with her. She tapped into not her Delusion, but the demonic powers she’d been granted by her Delusion. Now, she could make people Love her. Serve her. She didn’t want to hurt Thoma, but she did want him to understand she was no weakling now. 

She let forth just a bit of that, and felt her powers take hold of Thoma. He grew more feral, more passionate, and in some ways, it was wonderful. But it was also terrifying. She used a little more, until she fully asserted her hold over Thoma. She could feel his own powers fighting back, and she plucked his Delusion from his breast, tossing it away. 

“Can you hear my music?” she asked him as she straddled him, looking down at his beastial eyes. “Can you feel it? The world now dances to my tune! I can- Thoma? Thoma!” 

“Yes, my lady,” he growled. Only…it wasn’t quite him. 

She had gone too far. 

Hastily, she abandoned her powers. She half expected Thoma to master her there and then, but instead…he just lay there. Just looking at her. Waiting.

She leaned down and kissed him, and he returned it, but when she sat up a little more…he just lay there again. Waiting for her command. 

“What have I done?” she gasped. Hastily, she probed him with her powers. She found he was hers. Utterly and completely. But that bright spark of love…had been strangled by the strings she now commanded. 

“Get up, get dressed,” she ordered. 

He complied immediately, and she followed suit. “Come with me.”

Hastily, they ran to the Tsaritsa’s chambers. To Anastasia’s surprise, the Tsaritsa herself opened the door for her. 

“Your Majesty, something went wrong! I…I used my powers, just a little, on Thoma, and…and…”

“And he is yours. Just as you wanted,” the Tsaritsa said, looking Thoma over. “Aren’t you?”

“I serve Lady Anastasia,” Thoma said firmly. 

“Yes, but…you’re supposed to be…supposed to be…” Anastasia swallowed. “Can you…fix him?”

“This is how he was meant to be. The Servant. What he wants. He wanted a master, but Anatoly rejected him. So now, he serves you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” the Tsaritsa asked. 

“No! I just…I wanted him to know…wanted him to know I wouldn’t be a doll,” Anastasia said, her mind racing. 

“I could heal him. But if I do, he will know what you did to him. Know it was you. Is that what you want?” the Tsaritsa asked. 

Anastasia felt fear and panic seize her. She couldn’t lose Thoma. She’d just lost Anatoly, forever. She’d chosen Thoma. Whatever was wrong with him…she could fix it.

“No, I…he’s still himself, right?” Anastasia asked desperately. 

“He is the Servant. Yours, and mine. I give you his body, though I will require his soul,” the Tsaritsa told her. 

Anastasia didn’t know what that meant, but didn’t like the sound of it. “I…thank you. I’ll take care of this myself. Come, Thoma.”

“As you wish, my Lady,” Thoma said, and trod after her.

“Dancer?”

Anastasia paused, looking back at the Tsaritsa. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I told you there would be a price. You have found it. But do not think of reneging on your agreement. The world will dance as you command. But it is I who writes the score. Do you understand?”

Anastasia curtsied deeply, and Thoma copied her motion. Like a puppet, pulled on by strings.

“Of course, your Majesty,” Anastasia said. 

Then she led Anatoly back to their rooms, and commanded him to love her. He did. 

Like a faithful Servant, serving his master. 

It was then that Anastasia realized that the Tsaritsa had taken both their hearts, and sealed them away in ice. 

Anatoly gasped and panted above Elena. But his mind was elsewhere. Not on her, but on another woman, on one he had lost. In his pain and sorrow, he cried out a name. 

Anastasia!

As soon as it left his lips, he knew he had made a mistake. A horrific one. Elena’s expression changed. Her embrace slackened. She didn’t let go, but her eyes grew empty. Haunted. 

When he was done, he went to the bathroom, and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were sunken. Haunted. What had Anastasia done to him? What had he done to her?

He slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it, and then locking it away behind ice. He went back to the bedroom, pulling on his clothes. Elena was curled up on the bed, the blankets wrapped about her. 

“I am going out,” he said, coming over to stand over her. 

She nodded, shifting slightly, her back to him. 

He reached out a hand, hesitated, then withdrew it. “I…I love you, Elena.”

Again, a nod. 

“I said I love you!” he snapped. 

“I…I love you…also…” she said, looking furtively at him, before looking away and hugging herself again. 

He turned away, and left the bedroom behind. 

The Tsaritsa was waiting for him in the garden. Sitting amidst frozen flowers on an icy bench. 

“You’ve taken everything from me,” he said, coming to stand before her.

“And yet, I have also given you all you have desired,” she said, meeting his gaze with icy calm. “A country is at your feet. You are one of the most powerful and respected men in the world. You have a woman who loves you waiting in your bed. She will give you children. You will continue to be my Harbinger. Does this not satisfy you?”

“No,” Anatoly said, and stepped forward, reaching for the Tsaritsa. Reaching to claim her, to take her as his own. 

The blow she dealt him left him on his knees, clutching his jaw as it throbbed in pain. 

“I will never be yours. For you are mine. Do you finally understand that, Thief?”

Slowly, he nodded, rubbing his jaw. “I will never be the ruler. Never be the hero.”

“No. You will work from the shadows. Hated and reviled by all. Even the woman who shares your bed, and bears your children will curse your name, for you are rejected by society. Yet, you will stand above it all. You will serve at my feet, stealing what I command, coveting all about you.”

He bowed his head. “I…accept. I will be your Thief. I will steal the world, and make it yours.”

He felt her icy smile more than he saw it. “Then you are at last ready to embrace your Delusion. Arise, Thief. The stage is set. The players are ready. The band begins to play. And the show…begins.” 

Anatoly accepted the glowing purple gem from the Tsaritsa, wrapping his fingers about it tightly. Power crackled through him. “Then I shall make it a performance to remember.”

Author's Note:

And here's that L that Anatoly was waiting on. At least the first one. 

One Hundred Chapters Bonus Chapter Poll

To celebrate 100 chapters of Second Archon War, here is a poll for a bonus chapter. Some are canon, all are silly. Vote for whatever tickles your fancy.

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominum 6

Superbia Hominum 6: Family Ties

His phone buzzed, and Eidolon paused in his pull-ups. The ring was the one he’s set for emergencies, so he let go, going over to flick it open. “Eidolon.”

“We’ve found her. She’s in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Coordinates are 42°57'29.3"N 85°41'36.5"W. PRT teams are standing by to intervene.” 

“On my way,” Eidolon said, and stripped off his undershirt, rapidly pulling on his uniform. In less than a minute, he was soaring into the sky. He soon broke the sound barrier, and he was over Sioux City, looking down on the Grand River and the many lakes that surrounded it. He tapped into the local PRT bands.

“This is Eidolon. Do you have eyes on the Subject?”

“Uh, yes sir,” a tense man’s voice gasped. “But we’ve got fuckin’ bigger problems!”

“And that is?” Eidolon demanded tersely, even as he homed in on the coordinates. 

“Sir, I think you’re gonna need backup. Because she’s fighting the Slaughterhouse Nine.”

Eidolon’s blood ran cold, but he didn’t slow his approach. “Say again? The Nine?”

“Yes sir. She’s tangling with Mannequin, but- SHIT! GET AWAY FROM THAT GLASS BEFORE-”

There was a ripple below Eidolon, and he could imagine the tearing sound as all the glass within a five-mile radius exploded. Snarling, Eidolon put on more speed, grabbing for Brute and Blaster powers as he went. This was about to get nasty. 

He burst onto the scene even as the sparkling dust from the destroyed glass still hung in the air. What he expected to hear was screams and more explosions. Instead, what he heard was a song. 

A white figure was zipping about overhead, belting out a powerful song, as Mannequin, Shatterbird, and Jack Slash tried to close with the singer. She had white feathery hair, amber eyes, and a glowing green gem on her breast. The mysterious woman that Eidolon had been seeking after. She’d shown up a few weeks ago, appearing to harass someone, then vanishing. 

At first, they had largely ignored the mysterious behavior of this odd cape who called herself Ziz, but a pattern had rapidly emerged: Ziz was targeting survivors of the Madison Simurgh attack. Why, no one knew, and Thinkers hadn’t been able to get much from her, aside from that she was an Anemo Vision holder and likely had formerly been some sort of bird before getting it. Probably an owl of some sort. 

That didn’t matter right now though. What mattered was that she was facing down three of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Eidolon didn’t know Ziz’s motivation, but he did know that the Nine were by far the larger threat. He aimed a blast at Mannequin, and a silver beam of light shot out, blowing the Tinker back. 

The woman turned to see him hovering near her, her song trailing off. Her eyes grew wide, and Eidolon nodded to her. But instead of thanking him, she snarled, “Oh, just FUCKING GREAT! This is EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED! FUCK OFF, DEADBEAT!” 

“I’m trying to help you,” Eidolon called, dodging out of the way just as a storm of glass passed through where he had been. 

“Well then do me a favor and go fuck yourself, because that’s the biggest help you can be, you unworthy piece of trash!” the woman snarled. “I nearly had him! Now you’ve disrupted my song!” 

“You were trying to control Mannequin?” Eidolon demanded, shooting another beam at Jack Slash, who as always, seemed to see it coming and easily dodged him. 

The woman rolled her eyes. “Right. An Anemo Vision holder who can brainwash people. Or do you know who I really am? Doesn’t fucking matter. No, I’m not brainwashing him, moron. I’m trying to set him free! Now get out of my way,  I’m wasting time here!” 

Then she swore again and had to throw up a wind barrier as more glass shards flew at her. “Fuck! Off!” 

Then she zipped away on the winds, leaving behind a baffled Eidolon. Still, he could hear gunfire, and see more members of the Nine emerging: The Siberian, and Bonesaw by the looks of it. What were they doing in Grand Rapids? Didn’t matter. What mattered now was saving lives. 

“Command, this is Eidolon. Requesting immediate backup. I have at least five members of the Nine here, along with Ziz. This is a priority one call.”

“Roger that, Eidolon. We’ve got two on their way to you right now: Miss Militia, and, er, a guest.”

“Guest? This is not the time for some fresh-faced newbie!” Eidolon snarled, even as he blasted the Siberian right before she could slam a PRT car into a pair of officers. He didn’t really phase her, but he did blow apart the car, saving the two officers. The Siberian cackled and turned towards him, then leapt into the air for him. 

Eidolon barely got out of the way in time, then grunted as he felt a cut along his back. Jack Slash. He was outnumbered, and things were going to go south fast. He’d been expecting to take a lone, if above average, Vision Holder. Not the entire Slaughterhouse Nine. Well, more like the Slaughterhouse Seven. Where were-

A massive form slammed into Eidolon, knocking the air from his lungs and driving him to the ground. Crawler had leapt from a five story building onto him, and he looked up at the grinning face of a thing that had once been a man, with two sets of eyes, an extra set of arms, and a pair of soot-black tentacles that were trying to wrap themselves around Eidolon as they plummeted down towards the Siberian. 

“FUCK OFF!” 

A massive blast of air slammed into Crawler, and he was spun away from Eidolon, who hastily corrected his fall, even as another pair of air blasts blew away the Siberian, who’d been leaping straight for him again. 

Ziz zipped by Eidolon, her face a mask of fury. “I’m the only one allowed to frag your unworthy ass, you hear me, Deadbeat?! AND I’M JUST DOING THIS BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID ASS PROMISE! I OWE YOU NOTHING!” 

None of that made any sense to Eidolon, but he nodded his thanks. “You saved me. Thank you, Ziz.”

In response, she flipped him off, before jetting away again. “Buy me some fucking time and I’ll take care of Sphere!”

“He’s not that man anymore!” Eidolon called, but he didn’t have the time or energy to argue. There were dozens of horrific monsters, the sewn-together bodies of humans and animals both now pouring out of one of the buildings. Bonesaw’s work. The girl was giggling and riding atop a monster that looked like the nightmare version of a centaur, but with its arms replaced by bony blades. She was urging her creations towards the embattled PRT troopers, who were desperately trying to evacuate civilians. 

Eidolon tried to reach them, but Crawler and the Siberian were between himself and the civilians, and even flying, he didn’t have a good way out of this. He gritted his teeth, ready to witness another slaughter. 

Then a wall of ice rose formed in an instant, and the monstrosities ran smack into it. A moment later, a barrage of rockets fell amongst them, blasting many of them to bits, and sending Bonesaw sprawling as she screamed in pain and rage. 

“Your backup has arrived,” Hannah’s voice said, and Eidolon felt both a flood of relief and a passionate, carnal desire for the wonderful woman. 

“Hard to believe you Americans allow this trash to polite your cities. The Tsaritsa would have solved this problem long ago,” a familiar but surprising voice said. 

“Anatoly? I didn’t think you were much of a frontline fighter,” Eidolon commented. “Glad you’re here, regardless. I could use the assist.”

“Hmph. Can’t let anything happen to my business partners. It would sour the deal,” Anatoly said over the radio. “But my aid has a price.”

“We’ll talk cost later. Right now, let’s contain this threat and drive off the Nine,” Miss Militia said, her green and black armored suit appearing atop the ice wall. She fired off another blast at Shatterbird, forcing her down before she could flank Eidolon with more glass shards. 

Spinning in midair, Eidolon fired off a blast as the Siberian lept at him again. This time, he was tackled, though he had thankfully taken on enough Brute powers that he wasn’t instantly ripped to shreds. They exchanged blows that should have torn a man in half as they fell, before crashing into the ground. 

But there was a reason that Eidolon had given up on his flight power: he’d swapped it for a devastating Striker ability. Combining his blaster power with his new striker ability, he hit Siberian with all he had, praying he got the results he wanted. 

He did, sort of. The Striker ability formed a forcefield around his fists that amplified his blows, while his blaster power still fired those silver beams. It wasn’t enough to do more than stagger the Siberian, but he had her occupied now. 

“Hello, Ruskie. Want me to put a smile on your face?” Jack laughed behind Eidolon. He came at Anatoly with a knife, and Eidolon cursed as the Russian cape was bisected. So much for that. 

Only, when the extended blade from Jack hit Anatoly, the man turned to snowflakes that fell to the ground and began to melt on the warm pavement. 

“A knife. How pedestrian.”

There was a sharp crack, and Jack jerked back and snarled as Anatoly appeared in a shimmer of frost in the shadows, a smoking gun in his hand. Lightning crackled over Jack Slash and his muscles spasmed, causing him to go to one knee.

“Elemental rounds. A much more fitting weapon for this age,” Anatoly said with a sneer. He raised a hand, sending out a shard of ice at Jack that looked like it should have taken his head off. 

Before Jack could take the bullet, Bonesaw jumped in front, her hair matted and bloody. The elemental round took her square in the chest, but she only giggled. “I rearranged my organs! Take more than that to-”

Firing as he ran, Anatoly slammed forward into Bonesaw, causing her to gasp in pain as his frozen fist set off a Superconduct reaction in  her body. She was slammed to the ground, and Anatoly hit her one more time in the chest. “A shame. A child such as you has no place with monsters like this.  You should find a place of Love.”

“Don’t be fooled, she’s the scariest one here,” Jack laughed, swiping at Anatoly again. The fatui agent danced away, then melted back into a frosty shadow that slid away. 

Eidolon was still occupied, going at it hammer and tongs with the Siberian. He was debating trading in his Brute and Blaster power for a better set, as his current Brute power just gave him more durable skin and bones. If he kept this up, the Siberian would pulp him. Hannah was going at it with Crawler and Shatterbird both, using a variety of weapons to keep both of them at bay, but Anatoly had vanished, and Jack and Bonesaw were now free to do as they wished. 

Just as Eidolon was ready to roll the dice, Mannequin appeared, his jerky movements beliying the grace that the Tinker moved his construct form across the battlefield. He was racing right for Eidolon, and he knew that unless he got lucky with his new powers, he was doomed. 

Screw it. I have to to be Worthy. 

Gritting his teeth, Eidolon reached for a new set and…

Came up with snake eyes. His body turned to jelly and his vision disappeared. His new Brute power let him easily take blows from the Siberian but at the cost of losing his skeleton and most of his organs. He was disoriented for precious moments, and panicked. He grabbed for another power set, his eyes returning just in time for him to see the Siberian reaching down to rip him to shreds. He could only pray that-

Mannequin’s fist shot out and took the Siberian square in the chest, bowling her over. It seemed more because of the surprise of the hit than the force, though Mannequin was no lightweight. Before the Siberian could recover, Mannequin spun about, his fists flying on chains before they both hit the Siberian square in the head, knocking her off balance. She snarled in rage, but it had given Eidolon enough time. 

“This had better work,” he growled. He’d put everything into a weird blend of Shaker and Blaster powers, and he unleashed everything at the Siberian. The area around him turned to a powdery substance like chalk before a blast of pure kinetic force pulverized it. It was enough. The Siberian couldn’t be destroyed, but her physical form could be disrupted to the point that she couldn’t continue to manifest. She vanished, and Eidolon stood, turning to face Mannequin. 

The blank face of the construct jerked a nod at him, then turned away. With a few gliding steps, Mannequin was right by where Hannah was fighting off Crawler and Shatterbird in an increasingly desperate struggle. Eidolon swore and readied another attack, then paused in astonishment. Instead of attacking the struggling Miss Militia, Mannequin plowed right into Crawler. 

Taken completely off guard by  his ally's sudden betrayal, Crawler snarled and refocused his efforts in fighting off Mannequin, who mercilessly pummeled the ugly Brute.

“Mannequin! What the fuck!” Shatterbird cried, then hissed in pain as Hannah summoned a flamethrower and caught her in a fireball. 

At the same time, Anatoly suddenly appeared behind Jack and Bonesaw, opening fire with his pistol again. Jack took a hit in the leg, going down hard. 

“Jack’s hurt!” Bonesaw cried, taking out a gun of her own and firing at Anatoly, but she was shooting at empty air: the Russian cape had vanished again. 

“Siberian’s down, and Mannaquin’s lost it! We gotta go!” Shatterbird declared. “Do it, Bonesaw!” 

The little girl put her fingers to her lips and blew a sharp whistle, and Eidolon snarled as more monstrosities rose up and shambled at them. Eidolon had to blast several more, and by the time the dust settled, the Nine had vanished. 

Save one.

Mannequin stood alone on the battlefield, swaying back and forth slightly. Hannah had her weapon trained on him, but she was holding fire. “Lay down, and surrender!”

To Eidolon’s shock, Mannequin complied, laying down on the ground, and even flopping his hands behind his head. It didn’t make any sense. 

Slowly, Eidolon approached, his powers primed for another assault by the Nine to rescue their companion. “What’s going on? What happened to Mannequin?”

“Not…Mannequin…I…am…no…puppet…”

Eidolon started, then stared at the construct. It could talk? It never had before that he could recall. “What are you talking about?”

“I cut his strings, Deadbeat. Because unlike you, I am Worthy.”

Eidolon spun to see a smug looking Ziz standing atop a half-ruined building, perched on a wall that was still standing. He opened his mouth, then swallowed what he was going to say. Instead, he simply said, “Thank you.”

“Oh I don’t want your thanks, Deadbeat. The next time we see each other, we fight until you know, deep in your bones, that I am far more worthy than you. That I’ve surpassed you in every way,” Ziz sneered.

Hannah raised Armory, pointing an assault rifle at Ziz. “Don’t start a fight now.”

“I have no quarrel with you or your maladjusted power set,” Ziz huffed. She pointed to the south. “I got your stupid cops and the civilians to safety. Just came back to make sure no one would be ‘harmed by my action or inaction.’ What a fucking joke. Anyway, I Freed Alan Gramme. He’s fine now. Do whatever you want with him.”

With that, Ziz lept into the air, then soared away on a gust of wind. Eidolon watched her go, baffled. Then he turned to Mannequin, who was still face down on the ground. “Freed Alan Gramme? But that’s…”

“The…voices…the…Song…It is…quiet…I am…Free…” Mannequin rasped, his voice slightly metallic, as though it was from a speaker that was rusty with disuse. 

Eidolon shared a look with Hannah, who seemed as baffled as he was. “Any idea what that means?”

“It means you are letting them get away while you argue. Either kill this man or move on,” Anatoly said, appearing next to them in a flurry of snow. 

“I…accept…my…death…The Song…is…gone…but…my sins…remain…” Mannequin, or…Sphere? said. 

“Huh.” Eidolon scratched his chin, then shrugged. “Well, it’s a victory. Tag him and bag him. He’ll go in for an eval, but it’s the bird cage either way. One less of the Nine running about.”

“I…will…not…resist…Ziz…freed…me…I am…at peace…” Sphere, and Eidolon was increasingly certain it was Sphere, said. 

“But he was driven mad by the Simurgh,” Hannah muttered. “How…?”

A few things clicked in Eidolon’s mind. “Ziz. She appeared six weeks ago, right? July 13th.”

“Yeah, why?” Hannah asked. Then her eyes grew big as well. 

Eidolon shook his head at her, but it was too late. Anatoly laughed. 

“You really think that was the Simurgh? If so, the Buer is even more of a fool than you. Tch. Let me know when you are ready to finish our bargain. I think I have proved my trustworthiness,” Anatoly said. He strolled away, taking out a cigarette and lighting it before putting it to his lips. 

Eidolon turned back to Sphere as Hannah cuffed him, though it was mostly a symbolic gesture. They’d have to do a full eval, but…he’d need to do some more calculations.

And figure out why the Simurgh wanted to prove why she was more Worthy than he. 

Her dreams were troubled. That wasn’t unusual. Her dreams were always troubled. Ever since a year ago, when she had found her new family, Riley’s dreams had been full of pain. That made sense, as the waking world was full of pain as well. When she was awake, however, she was Bonesaw. Only when she slept did Riley remerge, that scared, frightened, weak, little girl. 

Right now, she was dreaming of the paper she had found. Tucked away on her, planted when she’d fought that Russian cape a few days before. 

You are wanted. You are Loved. Listen for the call of her Benevolent Whisper, and you will be saved. 

She’d crumpled up the note and tossed it away without a second thought. 

And since then, each night, Riley had dreamed of a lullaby. 

Sleep, my love, sleep!

The house lights go out;

The birds are quiet in the garden,

Fish fell asleep in the pond,

The moon shines in the sky,

The moon is looking into the window

Close your eyes now,

Sleep, my love, sleep!

The voice that sang to Riley was soft and melodic, a tender, soothing voice, a cool balm to her worries. It reminded Riley that she was only ten years old, and that she missed her mother terribly. As much as she tried to pretend that Jack and the others were her new family, it just wasn’t true. 

Mommy, I miss you, Riley sniffed. 

You have no mother. 

It wasn’t a voice exactly that made Riley shudder. More the impression, the shadow that loomed in her mind, that showed her how bodies worked, how to take them apart, and put them back together again. It was her Power, and it was what kept her safe. Kept her alive. 

YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE, PARASITE. 

The voice, it was the same as the one that sang the lullaby. But colder. Harsher. Stronger. 

The face that appeared before Riley was pale, stern, and so beautiful it took her breath away. Nothing she made could ever be this lovely, this perfect. Even if she gave everything to her Power, she could never capture this vision of feminine wonder. 

This Subject is mine. Do not interfere. 

The cold blue eyes met Riley’s, and she shrank back. 

CHILD. DO YOU WISH TO BELONG TO THIS PARASITE, OR TO BELONG TO ME?

I…I… Riley licked her lips, then asked in a timid voice. Would…would you love me? Would you be my mommy? 

A cold but tender hand caressed Riley’s cheek. I AM LOVE ITSELF. SERVE ME, AND I SHALL GIVE YOU ALL YOUR HEART DESIRES. A HEARTH TO CALL YOUR OWN, AND A FAMILY THAT LOVES YOU, AND YOU MAY LOVE IN RETURN. ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU GIVE YOUR HEART TO ME. 

Riley shuddered. But…Jack…the others…I can’t…they’re my family!

THEY ARE LIES. YOU KNOW THIS. COME TO ME, RILEY. COME TO ME, AND I SHALL SHOW YOU LOVE. 

No. Seek Conflict. Gather data. Manipulate life. 

The two voices in Riley’s head made her scream, and she jerked awake, panting for breath. She looked around where she was. Crawler was flopped on a destroyed bed, snoring. Shatterbird was laying on a couch, snoring softly. She looked down at her hands. They were coated in blood. She’d passed out again. On the table before her was a whimpering woman. Riley- NO! Bonesaw! Had been fixing her. Working her wonderful Power. 

“You…you will be so beautiful,” Bonesaw lied, caressing the poor woman’s hair. Her guts were open, and her heart was beating outside of her chest. But soon, Riley would have her all fixed up. Yes.

“Hey there, kiddo. What’s the problem?”

A chill ran down Bonesaw’s spine, and not the same one as had made her tremble with relief and pleasure when that icy woman had touched her. 

“No problem, just got sleepy,” Bonesaw said in a forced chipper tone. “All better now! 

A hand ran down Riley’s spine, and she froze as Jack touched her. “You’re not being…naughty, are you?”

“No. I…I’m mad,” she said. It was partly true. “How could Mannequin betray us like that?!”

Jack’s hand froze, and Bonesaw did as well. Then he laughed, coming around beside her. “Well, the Nine always had a rotating membership. We’ll just have to find some replacements. Recruitment is getting harder.” 

“I can fix that! That’s why I’m working on her,” Bonesaw said, gesturing to the woman before her. “She was a hero. But when I’m done with her…maybe she’ll be a proper Nominee.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Jack allowed. “What was her name? Stary?”

“Stardust. But that’s not interesting enough. When I’m done…she’ll be all ready. She’ll see the world in a whole new way,” Bonesaw promised. “Just like I did.”

“Very good,” Jack said, patting Riley on the shoulder. No, no, no! Bonesaw. “I wouldn’t want to have to…punish you. So be a good girl and make Uncle Jack proud.”

“Y-yes,” Bonesaw said. “Of course! Another member of our family!”

“One that won’t betray me,” Jack hissed, then stalked away again.

Riley turned back to Stardust, and their eyes met.

“Please…kill me…” Stardust whispered. 

Riley knew then that there would be an accident on the operating table. That happened. Jack wouldn’t get mad at her. Or not too mad. 

But she had to find out more about the Cryo Archon. And find out how she could find that voice that sang to her. 

Author’s Note:

Canonically, Bonesaw should be six years old. However, after a lot of thought, I have decided that won’t work. As such, she is so far the only character who I have aged up. So she’s about four years older than she should be. 

PRT Threat Assessment: Ziz

PRT Threat Assessment: Ziz

Photo of Ziz snapped by a PRT agent in Sioux City, December 2nd, 2004