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The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 12

Comoedia Glacialis 12: The Hero arrives, Stage Left

Checking her bags one more time, Anastasia smiled giddily. At last, she would be reunited with Tolney! It had been nearly three months since she’d last seen him, and despite near daily phone calls and texting, she still missed him. It was by far the longest they’d been apart their entire lives. She hadn’t missed him constantly, but that was only because she’d found someone else to be her strong protector. 

“All these in the car?” Thoma asked, picking up two of Anastasia’s bags.

 She laughed and nodded. “Yes, but you don’t need to show off. You can have one of the servants do it.”

“And deprive myself of the opportunity to serve you, my lady? Perish the thought,” Tolney chuckled as Anastasia rested her arm on his shoulder. He moved his face close to her’s and whispered, “Soon. We’ll talk with Anatoly and-”

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. 

They broke apart and looked up the stairs to see a determined-looking Kollei, gamely heaving an oversized trunk down the stairs, her face red as she strained to keep it from crashing down the flight. 

Thoma dropped the suitcases he was carrying and dashed over, grabbing the bottom of the trunk and grunting. “What did you put in here, Kollei? Rocks?”

“No, books,” she grunted, still straining mightily. “And food.”

“Did you pack every book you own?” Thoma chuckled, guiding the chest down the rest of the stairs. 

“No, I left the Early Reader books because I don’t need them anymore,” Kollei said reasonably as they lowered the trunk to the bottom of the stairs. “I can already sound out the really simple words.”

Anastasia and Thoma shared a look and a smile. “We don’t need to bring everything with us on this trip, Kollei. It will still be here in Saint Petersburg when we come back,” Anastasia explained. 

“Well, then why did you bring three bags?” Kollei said stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest. “I only brought one.”

“I think your one has more in it than Miss Nastya’s,” Thoma said with a sigh. He pried open then lid, then raised an eyebrow. “And you brought food for the journey, I see.” 

There were a dozen cans of food, as just as many MRE packets in the trunk, besides about thirty different books that varied in thickness from small easy readers to hefty dense tomes. There were also two pistols with a box of ammo, three knives, a hatchet, a mess kit, and an extra pair of boots. Shoved at the bottom were two spare changes of clothes, though there were four sets of socks.

“Kollei,” Anastasia groaned, rubbing her forehead. She smiled at Thoma. “Will you tell them we shall be departing a bit late?”

“It’s a private jet, they await your pleasure,” Thoma assured her. “I’ll let Anatoly know we’ll be delayed.”

Taking Kollei’s hand, Anastasia led her back up stairs, where she very firmly selected ten outfits for Kollei to wear, with appropriate shoes and jackets as it was still chilly in early spring. Then she helped Kollei pack the toiletries she would need, from toothbrush to cosmetics and sanitary pads. 

“I could just use a rag,” Kollei complained. 

“No, we’ll get more if we need them, but we’re going to be with a bunch of men on what amounts to a military expedition, so you can bet none of them brought any. You’re a lady now, and that means being prepared, even if there isn’t much in the way of help there,” Anastasia said firmly. 

After that, Thoma helped Kollei select no more than ten books, and only three MREs and one can of food. “There will be plenty of food on the plane, and at the camp. You can bring some for emergencies, but you don’t need enough for the entire trip. And ten books is plenty for a two week trip.”

“Well, I’m not leaving my weapons,” Kollei said, sticking her chin out willfully.

“Neither am I,” Anastasia said, and showed Kollei the pistol she had concealed in her coat. “Though you do not need an entire box of ammo.”

“Put one knife in your boot, like this,” Thoma advised. “Then one in the small of your back, and the last on your hip. There, that’s better.”

With Kollei repacked, they loaded everything into a car. Anastasia noted that Thoma had only two bags himself, and wondered if she should have overseen his packing as well. He was a grown man, but he didn’t have Anatoly’s sense of style and taste for good clothing. She giggled, thinking of dressing Thoma in more flattering suits. That did sound like fun. 

After a short drive to the airport, they met Elana waiting for them on the plane. “You’re late. What were you up to?” She asked, sounding suspicious.

“They wouldn’t let me bring my books,” Kollei complained, which caused both Anastasia and Thoma to roll their eyes. 

“She had a trunk of books and food and only two wrinkled outfits. I helped her pick something more suitable,” Anastasia explained as they boarded the plane. 

Kollei ended up sitting with Thoma and insisting on another reading lesson, while Anastasia sat with Elena and enjoyed some refreshments. 

“Nastya…have you told Tolyan what is happening?” Elena asked quietly, glancing over at Thoma and Kollei meaningfully. 

“Oh yes, though he’s not terribly interested in how well Kollei is doing with her studies. The Tsaritsa has been very interested though, and is glad to hear that we’ve been seeing to her education,” Anastasia assured Elena. 

“That’s…not what I meant. Anastasia…you haven’t been as discrete as you think you have,” Elena said, her eyes darting over to Thoma. 

Her breath hitched in her throat, and Anastasia felt herself flush. She forced herself to take a deep breath and smiled. “As much as part of me wishes there was something to tell …there isn’t.”

“Nastya, we’ve known each other for years. And for most of that time, you’ve had a crush on Thoma. And this is the first time Tolyan has been gone for an extended period. You can’t just say nothing happened. I’ve seen the way you look at one another, and your brother will too,” Elena hissed. 

Now Anastasia was growing irritated, partly out of guilt, and party because nothing really had happened, despite her best efforts. “We are both adults. Thoma is my brother’s most trusted Lieutenant. And he’s strong and reliable. So what if I am fond of him? Besides, I’ll speak to Tolyan about it when we arrive.” 

“Well, I hope it’s not too late,” Elena said, turning away.

Anastasia was about to say something hot and scathing when the plane suddenly shuddered, then she screamed as a red-cloaked man rose up from the floor of the plane between the two sets of chairs. Thoma lept up immediately, a red barrier forming about himself and Kollei. 

“Do not resist, and you will not come to harm,” the man, who could only be the Red Ghost said. 

“What is the meaning of this, Ruvim?” Thoma demanded, his voice muffled through his barrier as he tried to move closer to Anastasia and Elena. Ruvim forestalled him by drawing a pair of daggers and pointing them at the two women. 

“You know perfectly well what this is, Red Shield. The Red Gauntlet finds itself in need of hostages. These three girls will do nicely. Don’t make me kill you in the process of obtaining them,” Ruvim said flatly. 

Thoma opened his mouth, but Kollei suddenly dropped her pistol and raised her hand. “Fine. You can take me.”

“Kollei, don’t-” Thoma began, but she shook her head. 

“It’s alright. You know what my mother will do when she finds out someone has taken me,” Kollei said calmly. 

“Perhaps, or perhaps she will be reasonable,” Ruvim said with a shrug as Thoma reluctantly lowered his barrier. “Come here, girl.”

Kollei stepped forward, with Ruvim pointing one of his daggers towards Thoma. He sheathed the other, putting a hand on Kollei. “Now, I will-”

In a flash, Kollei drew one of her knives and plunged it into Ruvim’s side. He grunted in shock, taking a swipe at Kollei, but Thoma’s barrier sprang back to life around her. Ruvim went transparent, and dropped through the floor, leaving behind a blood spatter. 

“Now you’ve done it,” Thoma groaned, grabbing Kollei and then wrapping one arm around Anastasia. “Elena, grab hold of me, quickly!” 

Elena sprang onto Thoma’s back, and a red sphere wrapped themselves around them as Anastasia clung tightly to Thoma. “Hold on tightly, Nastya. This is going to be-”

The starboard wing of the plane was suddenly ripped away, as the Crow floated up to them, trailing her shadowy bird. She didn’t speak, only shaking her head in mock disappointment. 

“What can we do?” Anastasia asked, feeling panic rising within her. It would be fine. Thoma was here. He would protect them. 

“There isn’t much I can do in the middle of the sky,” Thoma said, his voice calm, but strained. “My power is not purely defensive, but it is best suited to defense. Unfortunately, in this situation, there is little I can try.”

“We could shoot her,” Kollei suggested, producing her second pistol. 

“For that to happen, I would have to drop my barrier. And I do not think that wise at this moment,” Thoma said with a quick shake of his head, even as the plane began to nose dive. The Crow smirked at them, then the plane suddenly righted. Anastasia felt a surge of hope, then her heart sank to her shoes as she spied the massive, oddly shaped craft that was coming alongside them, scooping up the wreckage of the plane and Thoma’s protective barrier. It was clearly one of the Red Gauntlet’s custom jobs, with alien looking engines and odd contours. 

“Can you stop the craft from kidnapping us?” Elena asked, her voice tense.

Thoma nodded, but grimaced. “I could expand my barrier to a size that might damage it, but that seems unwise. If it stops flying, we start falling. And my barrier wouldn’t save us from hitting the ground at terminal velocity.”

Anastasia closed her eyes, burying her face in Thoma’s chest as her heart thundered in her ears. Why? Why was she so powerless in a world of gods and monsters? Not even her knight could protect her now.

There was a deafening explosion, and Thoma’s barrier shuddered, and Anastasia’s eyes snapped open. She saw the Crow, flinging her projectiles wildly at some unseen foe as the Gauntlet craft fell away, smoking and burning. Joy filled her heart, and she grinned fiercely. It must be her brother, or the Tsaritsa! The Crow was blasted away by fireball, and she frowned. Wait, no, that wasn’t-

Then a figure cloaked in green with a steel grey mask was standing beside them. The wreckage of the plane had come to a stop, floating in midair as one of the most terrifying men in the world alighted beside them. A moment later, a door appeared, and that odd American woman, Contessa, stepped out onto the same platform. 

“Hello!” Contessa said cheerily, waving merrily. She rapped her knuckles against the barrier, though it didn’t make much of a sound. “Mind opening up?”

Thoma swallowed, then said in a low whisper, “If we would have struggled against the Ghost and Crow, I cannot hope to fight Eidolon and his companion. I am sorry. I have failed you.”

“It’s alright,” Anastasia said, feeling light-headed. “I don’t suppose many could. Lower the barrier.”

Thoma nodded, and the red shield vanished. Anastasia looked around, seeing they were on what seemed like a floating cloud. She could see though the mist to the ground many kilometers below, and it gave her a sense of severe vertigo. Forcing down bile, she looked up, trying to meet the glowing green eyes of the legendary American cape. “Well. Are you here to rescue us, or are we simply to switch captors?”

“Consider this a favor,” Eidolon growled in perfect Russian. “Someone decided to get on an Archon’s good side for once.”

“By someone, he means me!” Contessa said brightly. She held up a small sphere with pastic eyes glued to it. “Eighty told me what would happen today, so I grabbed Eidolon and came to foil the Gauntlet’s dastardly scheme! Neat, huh?”

“A simple phone call warning us of the  ambush would have sufficed. I assume you could have located my number,” Anastasia said primly. 

“Eh, I only figured it out about seven minutes and thirty eight seconds ago, so we didn’t really have time to chat. You’re just lucky I asked the right question today,” Contessa laughed. “So, we didn’t really do much besides drive off the Gauntlet, and they’ll be back. And we didn’t really come to pick a fight, sooooo…who wants to skip to the part where we agree to take you to Mordovia and drop you off?”

Eidolon turned his head slightly, his voice distorted through the mask. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Huh? Why- Oh. Oh shit,” Contessa went rather pale, and clutched her hat to her head. “Should we, uh…”

“Let’s get down to ground level and make it clear we were here to rescue them,” Eidolon said grimly, and the cloud they were on began to swiftly lower itself towards the ground. 

“What’s happening?” Anastasia asked, clutching tightly to Thoma as they were rapidly lowered. Kollei let out a squeal of glee of all things and crouched at the edge of the cloud, a delighted look on her face. 

“Someone noticed the attack. And she’s pissed,” Eidolon replied over the roar of the wind in their ears. 

To the south-east, dark clouds began to gather as the temperature plummeted, even as they dropped out of the sky. They hit the ground, and Eidolon and Contessa backed away slightly. 

“Uh, you will tell her that we, um, we’re the good guys here,” Contessa asked, shaking her Magic Eightball and peering at the answer. 

“Relax. If she turns hostile I can get you away,” Eidolon said confidently, folding his arms over his chest.

Anastasia and the others didn’t bother asking who “she” was, as a massive blizzard enveloped them. A moment later, a glowing figure of pale blue lowered herself to the ground beside them, her face relaxed and calm, but her eyes burning with icy fury. 

“You have exactly one sentence to explain why you have threatened those I love, Fool of Fate. Or I shall flay the flesh from your bones,” the Tsaritsa said with icy cruelty. 

“Mom, it’s OK, they rescued us!” Kollei cried, running over and hugging the Tsaritsa, which startled her enough that the winds slackened around them. 

“It is true, my Queen,” Thoma agreed, hugging Anastasia tightly. Seeing a god in all her fury…it was breathtaking, and terrifying.  “It was the Red Gauntlet that attacked us. If not for Eidolon and Contessa, we would have been captured, though my shield would have held out for some time.”

The Tsaritsa closed her eyes, returning Kollei’s embrace. The winds died down, and the icy storm turned into gentle snowflakes that fluttered to the ground. All around them, the spring mud had been transformed into an icy landscape, with the ground frozen as far as the eye could see in all directions. “I see. And who gave you permission to trespass on my lands?”

“We, uh, we sent you a message, but, um, we decided that, er, you wouldn’t mind if we…helped?” Contessa offered, sounding rather nervous. She hastily dug out a tidily wrapped package, and held it out. “I didn’t bring much of an offering, but, um, I noticed you didn’t like the coffee and donuts… I did some research, and…”

The Tsaritsa took the package and unwrapped it, revealing a bright red glass bottle. Her eyes rose, and she looked up at Contessa, her lips twitching slightly in a smile. “Mountain Dew Code Red?” 

“Uh, the gods loved Ambrosia, and, er, that’s the closest thing we have in America,” Contessa admitted. “I’m addicted, personally.”

“I see.”  The Tsaritsa handed the bottle to Kollei, who examined it with interest. “I will forgive your trespass this time, as you have assured that my daughter and her retainers came to no harm. I would be an ill-mannered host to rebuke those who sought to help me. And who brought such… interesting…offerings.”

Eidolon nodded. “May I ask a boon in return?”

Contessa whirled on him, her eyes wide, but the Tsaritsa let out a peal of laughter. “A bold one, are you not? What do they call you?”

“I am Eidolon, of the Houston Protectorate,” the masked hero replied. 

“You call yourself an enigma. How interesting.” The Tsaritsa touched her chin thoughtfully, then nodded. “Very well, Phantom of the Mask. For the life of my daughter, I shall grant you a boon.”

“I need to become Worthy. To defeat the Endbringers. To save the world from…Destruction. To do this, I need to become stronger,” Eidolon said, extending a hand and then flexing it into a gloved fist. His masked gaze met the Tsaritsa’s cold eyes. “Will you grant me a Vision?”

Contessa began to mutter, turning away from the Conversation and holding her eightball to her ear, her eyes flickering back and forth at invisible images, hunching over as if to protect herself from the unseen threats. 

The Tsaritsa was silent for a long moment, fingering her left hip, as if something had once hung there. At last she asked in a soft voice “Do you know what it is you ask, Phantom of the Mask?”

“I ask for power. For strength. I’m the strongest parahuman alive. Or I was, until you Archons arrived. Now, I have seen those who are stronger than me. I need to surpass what I am to become Worthy. To become the Savior I was meant to be,” Eidolon stated bluntly. 

The Tsaritsa nodded calmly, folding her hands before her. “A noble goal. But are you willing to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve such ends?” 

“Whatever it takes. I have already given up my life, my honor, my very soul. I’ve sacrificed an ocean of blood, and am prepared to sacrifice more. So long as in the end, I prevail, and my foe lies slain at my feet, no sacrifice is too great,” Eidolon growled. “That is why I was willing to come today. To humble myself before a false god.”

“False god?” one of the Tsaritsa’s silver eyebrows rose. “And what, pray tell, would you claim is a real one?”

“A being almighty and eternal but subject to eternal natural law. The creator of this world, or another, and one who begans spiritual children to fill it,” Eidolon stated matter of factly.

“Well. I suppose I have yet to create a world,” the Tsaritsa said with a small smile. “But I certainly have begat many children, though I am a maiden in truth and fact. Perhaps your definition is overly narrow. But I did not come to debate theology.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Eidolon said doggedly. “Will you or will you not grant me a Vision?”

The Tsaritsa was quiet again, extending a hand and allowing a snowflake to drift down to her fingers. It didn’t melt, instead merging with her flesh with a soft glow. “You are close. Your Ambition shines bright, but your mind is not yet perfectly aligned with mine, for there is no Love in your heart. Learn what it is to Love, and I am certain you will gain one from me ere long.” 

“It’s true. It’s true. That’s where they come from,” Contessa muttered, the first fully distinct words she’d said in some time. “Another piece of the puzzle.”

The Tsaritsa snorted. “Any scholar of merit could have told you as much. Alternatively, you could align your thoughts with Beezelbul’s Eternity, Buer’s Wisdom, or that wretch Barbatos’ Freedom. Or perhaps the others when they arrive.”

“Who are the others? How many are you? Who sent you?” Eidolon demanded. 

“I said I would grant you one boon, Phantom of the Mask. When you are ready to stop believing the lies of the Dead God that whispers in your ear, come back to me. Kneel before me, become my Phantom, and I shall grant you all the power and vengeance you desire,” the Tsaritsa offered.

“I don’t want Vengeance. Just Salvation,” Eidolon said flatly. He turned to Contessa. “Let’s go. This was a waste of time.”

“No, so much, so many new Paths open up before us,” Contessa muttered, her hands skittering over her face and tangling into her hair like agitated bugs. She stumbled over to Eidolon, who grabbed her and turned aside.

“Door me,” he said flatly, and a door swung open before him. He turned his back to the Tsaritsa. “I will never bow before a tyrant. Our goal is to free mankind. Not to enslave it to a new master.”

“All mortals must serve one master or another. Now, you serve a dead god’s cycle, despite the lies you tell yourself. When you are ready to become the weapon you seek to be, find me again,” the Tsaritsa cajolled. “Until you surrender your stolen power, you will never become truly Worthy.”

Eidolon grunted, then walked through the portal with Contessa, and vanished. 

Anastasia shuddered, then turned to the Tsaritsa, bowing deeply. “Thank you for rescuing us, your Majesty. From the Americans and from the Red Gauntlet.” 

Thoma and Elena echoed her, with Kollei giving the Tsaritsa another hug. 

“I always look after those I cherish. And you have more than earned my favor, Dancer,” Anastasia said. She nodded to Thoma as well. “You too, Krasnov. You lasted long enough for aid to arrive.”

“Would that I too were stronger,” Thoma said, grimacing. “But I am not arrogant enough to demand a boon of you.”

“But proud enough to hint? Fear not. It seems I will have need of more players to take the stage,” the Tsaritsa said, her eyes flashing wintery pale. “Would you take strength at any cost, Thoma Krasnov, and prove yourself worthy of my Dancer’s hand?”

Thoma looked up, startled. “Y-your Majesty-”

“Do not think I have not noticed your tryst, or that I do not approve. You have my blessing, should you take up the sword I offer you.” The Tsaritsa formed a blade of ice, extending it to Thoma, blade first. “But know that mine is a double-edged sword: It will cut both you, and your foes.”

“For Anastasia, I would cut myself to the bone,” Thoma said, and reached out, grasping the sword. He grimaced as blood welled between his fingers, and Anastasia gasped in horror. Then the blade flashed to mist, flowing into Thoma’s nostrils and mouth as he sucked in a breath. 

“What is-” Thoma shook Anastasia off, stumbling away. She reached out for him as he threw his head back, his eyes burning a fiery red. He suddenly breathed out a plum of flames from his mouth, his hands catching fire and his clothes igniting. 

“I have no Authority over Pryo…but I did retain some of its energy from when I held the gnosis. With the fragment of slain divinity I had left…simple enough to forge a new Delusion,” the Tsaritsa said with a hint of smugness in her voice. “Your passion is great, Thoma Krasnov. Now, would you prove yourself worthy of a place amongst my Harbingers?”

Thoma sank to his knees again, smoke trailing from his body. “I…I will serve you, Majesty. However you wish.”

“Then rise. It is time for us to depart. I have vengeance to plot,” the Tsaritsa declared. Turning, she waved one hand, and a crystalline sleigh formed from the frost, and four reindeer rose up from the ice. 

“It’s so pretty!” Kollei gasped, and Anastasia had to agree. The creatures had blue eyes and white, glossy coats, with jingling silver bells on their harness, while the sleigh was exquit and graceful in its design, with a cryo sigil on the front. 

They all mounted the sleigh, with Thoma reluctantly taking the reigns and driver’s seat, Anastasia sitting alongside him with the Tsaritsa, Elana, and Kollei sat in the rear. 

“Ah, I do not have much experience driving a sleigh,” Thoma said reluctantly. 

“The beasts know where to go. Merely crack the whip, and they shall carry us home,” the Tsaritsa told him airily. 

Thoma complied, and then they were all pushed back in their seats as the reindeer took off at incredible speed. The sleigh easily ran along the frozen ground for a dozen meters, then the animals lept up into the air, and the sleigh soared into the sky.

“It’s like Grandfather Frost,” Anastasia gasped, her eyes wide as she watched the countryside race by below them, clutching tightly to Thoma’s arms. 

“I’d call him Father Christmas, though I doubt we’re going to be delivering presents to good children,” Thoma chuckled, putting an arm around Anastasia’s shoulders as he held the reigns easily in one hand. 

“I think we’ll be visiting naughty children instead,” Kollei opined. “My mother won’t let them get away with what they did.”

The chuckle the Tsaritsa gave sent shivers down the spines of the mortals. 

Anatoly delivered a savage kick to the ribs of the Red Gauntlet soldier they’d captured, then turned away as the man groaned on the floor. “Dispose of him. He knows nothing.”

The two fatui soldiers in the cell with him stepped forward as the man begged and pleaded, but his cries turned to screams as one drew a sword. Those died quickly as Anatoly stepped out into the hall, murderous rage still in his heart. 

He should have seen this coming. Grigory had always been slime, and Vasili and opportunist. He feared the worst when the Tsaritsa had flown into a murderous rage on the same day that his sister and Elena were to fly to them, even more so when his mistress had grown wings of ice and flown off at top speed. When they’d lost contact with the plane, he’d feared the worst. And the few captives they’d managed to snatch up from the Red Gauntlet members left in the city had proven worthless so far. 

“Lord Harbinger! We have news!”

Anatoly turned as an officer ran up to him, holding a peace of paper and gasping for breath. “Well, what is it?” 

“The Tsaritsa, she sent a message. A bird of frost just delivered this message. Your sister, the others, they’re safe,” the officer gasped, extending the paper.

Anatoly snatched it, and his eyes raced over the parchment. 

The Red Gauntlet has rebelled. They attempted to murder my ward and her retainers. All are well. Prepare for immediate war.

It was signed with a small cryo sigil, and Anatoly felt himself relax. “Very good. Anything else?”

“There is a…very strange aircraft approaching,” the officer said. “We didn’t pick it up on radar, only visual, but-”

“Well, if it’s one of the Gauntlet’s, shoot it down!” Anatoly snapped, the rage returning instantly. 

“No, it’s, er…a sleigh. With flying reindeer,” the man admitted. He cringed slightly. “Or…so the report says.”

“A sleigh,” Anatoly deadpanned, then sighed and scrubbed his face. “I see. It seems the Tsaritsa wishes to make an entrance. Prepare a grand welcome for her in the city square, and summon the other Harbingers. She will want us in attendance.”

An hour later, Anatoly stood in his full uniform atop the stage with the Witch and Prince, both of them looking grim and dour. 

“I cannot believe that those fools tried this,” the Prince growled. “I should have killed them when they were here.”

“I told you that Vasili and his goons would betray us, cutie,” Yelizaveta said with a shake of her head. “I warned the Tsaritsa too, but she said to let it play out. I guess she didn’t believe me.”

“I heeded your warning, which is why I begged her to summon my sister here,” Anatoly said, shaking his head. “That those brash fools would strike at them in midair…I should have expected it.”

“At least the Princess is safe,” Ivan said. He made a fist, and a shimmer bubble formed around it. “I look forward to putting those who  would harm the Tsaritsa to sleep.”

“Cute. Because you used to be called the Sleeper. Next you’ll tell me to steal something,” Anatoly said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Be silent. She approaches,” Yelizaveta said, dropping to one knee and bowing her head as sleigh bells jingled in the distance.

Anatoly and Ivan followed suit, and moments later, four white reindeer pulled a silver slay through the sky and snow began to fall on the city. The sleigh landed, gliding to a halt, and all the subjects of the Tsaritsa present offered their obeisance to their savior and queen. 

But Anatoly had only eyes for his sister. And for the treacherous dog with an arm around her shoulders.

When they landed, the Tsaritsa arose, walking past her Harbingers. “Assemble my forces. We shall put down the rabid dogs that dare assault us.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Anatoly intoned along with the others. They followed after their queen, but Anatoly turned to find Anastasia leaping into his arms. 

“Tolya! I missed you so much! Please, are you well? Did they attack here too?”

“No, they were too cowardly to attack someone who could fight back,” Anatoly said, squeezing his sister tightly. For a moment, he nearly forgave her sins. Then Thoma stepped forward, and Anatoly felt his Vision burn cold. 

“Thoma kept me safe,” Anastasia said, pulling away from Anatoly and stepping into Thoma’s arms. “Kept us safe. He was very heroic.”

“Was he,” Anatoly said softly, meeting the other man’s gaze.

“I did what was needed, Tolyan,” he said. He hesitated, then the traitor spilled his guts. “I… I have grown very fond of Nastya over the past few months. I…would seek your blessing to begin courting her.”

“So informal. Do you see yourself as my equal, now?” Anatoly sneered.

Thoma stiffened, but Anastasia spoke up. “The Tsaritsa gave him a gift, said that Thoma could become a Harbinger as well! Isn’t that wonderful, Tolya?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Anatoly said frostily. He looked down at Anastasia in disgust. “You would abandon me for my servant?”

“I…what? Tolya, what do you mean?” Anastasia asked, apparently baffled. 

“You are asking like a love sick child.  It was I who protected and raised you all these years. I who took in a foreign cape with a dreadful past and gave him bread and roof over his head. I who built all this, for us! And now, you would cast me aside!?” Anatoly demanded, throwing out one hand dramatically. 

“You’re not speaking sense. She’s your sister, not your daughter, and certainly not your lover,” Thoma said, looking offended now. “And much has changed. I am grateful to you, Anatoly, but we are in love. Surely…surely that is no bad thing? Have I not proven my loyalty to you?”

“You’ve only proven yourself a dog who would sneak into my sister's bed while the master was away,” Anatoly sneered. He held out his arm. “Come, Elena.”

Elena scurried forward, bowing her head and taking Anatoly’s arm. “I…I missed you.”

“Of course.” Anatoly said, leaning down to let her kiss his cheek. “Come. The Tsaritsa will not be kept waiting. But this is not over between you and I.”

He stalked away, seething with indignation. Bad enough the help stole his sister, and his one time comrade betrayed him. Now he was elevated above Anatoly with a gift from the Tsaritsa? This was to be his kingdom! His reward! Now he was being cast aside by all!

Well, war brought opportunity. He knew that well as a merchant of death. Now, it was time to steal back what was his. All of it. 

The Second Archon War: Interlude 9

Warning: this chapter contains graphic material. Reader discretion is advised. 

Interlude 9: Lupus Cor

“Make sure to read chapter 3 from Island of the Blue Dolphins, we’ll have a discussion on it tomorrow morning,” the teacher said just as the bell rang, and everyone scrambled to shove everything they could into their backpacks. 

Taylor hurried outside, where she found Sarah already waiting for her, phone to her ear. Taylor was more than a bit jealous, as while Sarah’s parents had got her a brand-new Jaido 2004 with slide-out keyboard at the start of the school year, Taylor’s mom told her that fifth graders didn’t need cell phones. Even if basically everyone had one now. 

“Yeah, I love you too. No, I won’t be home after school, Reg. I’m going over to Taylor’s house to study, then we have Kendo. I’ll see you when I get home, OK? Yes, I’ll feed your stupid fish if you’re gone, don’t sweat it. ‘Kay, bye.” 

Sarah hung up and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, so annoying. Why does he have to be so clingy? I’m ten, not five.” 

“Are your parents gone again?” Taylor asked, and Sarah nodded. 

“Yeah, he probably just wants to know if he can invite another girl over. I bet he already has another girlfriend after he broke up with Veronica last week. I don’t know why, I liked her, but he was in one of his moods again. He’ll find another girlfriend though, he always does.”

They walked from their classroom to the bus stop. Taylor’s mom had to work late today, so they would just take the bus back to Taylor’s apartment. As they walked, they chatted about kendo, as well as homework. As they did, they overheard something that sent a shiver down both their spines. 

“Houston got hit, huh. Is it still there?” one of the sixth graders said, peering at his friend's phone.

“Yeah, they said Scion showed up and fought him off before he could do too much damage, but the death toll will still be pretty bad. Still, could be worse,” his friend with the phone said with a shrug. “Could have been Brockton.”

The two girls walked in silence for a moment, until Sarah let out a nervous giggle. “Well, at least we’re safe for four more months. Probably more. The Endbringers don’t like to hit the same country twice in a row.”

Taylor adjusted her backpack, feeling sick to her stomach, but setting her jaw. “My dad would have protected Brockton if an Endbringer came. I will too.”

“Yeah, with your…huh,” Sarah paused, poking Danny’s vision as it dangled from the backpack like a charm. 

“What?” Taylor asked, swiveling her head around to look. 

“Nothing, I thought it- Woah!” 

Taylor walked straight into another kid in front of her, who’d just walked right in front of her. She fell back on her rear, while the other girl sprawled out on the sidewalk, dropping the plastic container she’d had in her hands, and spilling out what looked like leftovers everywhere.

“Ow! You made me drop it!” the other girl snarled, getting up and curling her fingers like claws as she bared her teeth at Taylor. 

“Uh, sorry,” Taylor said, adjusting her glasses and blinking. She recognized the other girl, but didn’t know her very well. She was in their PE and music classes, but she spent most of her time in Mrs. Monroe’s class, where the special needs kids went. But something about her had caught Taylor’s eye, and her pulse began to race. 

“Now I have to get more!” the girl growled, trying to scoop the slop back into the container. “And they already threw out the leftovers! Now she’ll starve!” 

“Who would eat that?” Sarah asked, wrinkling her nose and helping Taylor up. “I wouldn’t even feed that to my dog, Rachel.” 

“No one asked you,” the girl snapped, clutching the Tupperware protectively. Rachel. That was her name. But the object she shoved back under her hoodie on a leather thong was what really caught Taylor’s attention.

“Um, if you’re hungry Rachel, I have half a leftover sandwich,” Taylor offered, looking down at her stained sweater. She’d have to wash it. Actually, it had already had some stains on it, Sarah had commented on it earlier. Taylor hadn’t really noticed. 

The other girl's eyes lit up, and she held out a hand. “Give it.”

After digging out the sandwich, Taylor proffered it to Rachel, who snagged it, then stepped off the sidewalk and into the bushes. That was a bit odd, and on impulse, Taylor followed after her. 

“Taylor? Where are you going, we’re going to miss the bus!” Sarah complained, but followed after her. It wasn’t hard to follow after Rachel, who was making no effort to hide her tracks. She ducked under the school fence, scrambled up the bank on the other side, and headed into the woods on the other side, keeping her container of leftovers steady the entire time. Taylor copied her, Sarah following and complaining the entire time. 

When Taylor stood up on the other side of the fence, Rachel was glaring down at her, arms wrapped protectively around the food. “You gave it to me, you can’t take it back.” 

“I don’t want to take it back; I was just wondering where you’re going,” Taylor said. “I see you in PE and stuff but we never talk, and, you have one too.”

The other girl’s glare dropped for a moment, and a look of interest came over her face. “You have a dog, too?” 

“No, um,” Taylor held up her inactive Vision, then nodded to the same Vision that Rachel had hidden. Unlike Taylor’s, it crackled with Electro energy, though it was invisible under the dark fabric. “Your Vision. I hadn’t noticed it before.”

“That’s because I keep it hidden so people don’t ask dumb questions,” Rachel said with a snort. She turned to Sarah. “You have a dog. What’s their name?”

“Uh, Ducky. She likes to swim,” Sarah said, sounding confused. 

Rachel suddenly stepped forward, her eyes as she got right into Sarah’s face. Rachel was taller than either of them, and bulkier too. The rumor was she’d been held back a grade, which was why she was in Mrs. Monroe’s class. She sat by herself in a corner of the cafeteria, away from even the other sped kids. She rarely talked, this being the most words Taylor had ever heard from Rachel all school year. She’d been new this year, though no one knew where she’d come from. 

“Do you take good care of Ducky? You don’t keep her locked in a kennel all day, do you?” Rachel growled, her voice low and menacing. “It’s not good for dogs to be locked in kennels all day. I hate people who don’t look after their dogs properly!” 

“No, we pay for her to go with a dogsitter! She’s a golden lab mix, she’s got a lot of energy and she’s really friendly, even if my dad says she’s dumb as a bag of bricks I think she’s sweet.”

Rachel glowered for a few moments, then nodded. “You can come.” Then her head swiveled to Taylor. 

“Uh, I like dogs too. I wanted to have one, but our apartment is too small, so we got a cat instead,” Taylor said nervously.

“That’s good. You shouldn’t lock dogs in little apartments. Ok, you can come too.” Then Rachel turned around, scrambling up the earthen bank between the school and the woods.

“She’s weird,” Sarah said, not bothering to lower her volume. 

“She’s got a Vision, I need to know how she got it,” Taylor replied and hurried after Rachel. “Rachel, wait!” 

The other girl didn’t slow down, so Taylor had to crash through the undergrowth to reach her, branches clawing at her face and bushes snagging her feet. She stumbled a few times, but she managed to reach Rachel right as they got to the creek that ran through the woods. 

Before Taylor could ask the million questions bubbling at the tip of her tongue, she heard barking and splashing. She turned to see a filthy-looking terrier splashing across the creek, barking happily as it splashed around Rachel’s feet. On seeing the dog, Rachel’s face transformed. Instead of the surly scowl she usually wore, a smile bloomed on her face, and she knelt down, batting the small dog around playfully and laughing. 

“Hey, Angelica! Good girl, good girl!” Rachel giggled, flipping her dog over on its back as the animal wagged its tail and nipped at her fingers. 

“Why do you have your dog back here? Where’s its leash? You’re supposed to keep them on a leash,” Sarah said, coming up behind them and frowning down at the dog. 

“She doesn’t need a leash. I trained her.  Angelica, Sit.”

Immediately, the dog sat on the mossy bank, wagging its tail and looking up at Rachel hopefully. 

“Stay,” Rachel said, tearing off a chunk of Taylor’s sandwich. She set it on the tip of Angelica’s nose, then held out a closed fist. The dog was practically vibrating with eagerness, and drool started dripping from her muzzle, but she didn’t try to take the food. 

Then Rachel opened her fist and said, “Take!” The dog instantly flipped the food off her nose and snapped it up, eagerly scoffing down the bite. “Good girl, Angelica.”

The dog barked happily, then sat back down when Rachel held out an open palm. She tore off more food, then set it in front of the dog. “Hold.”

Angelica was still, almost frozen, her eyes the only movement as they flicked between Rachel and the food only a few inches in front of her on the ground. Then Rachel flipped her hand over and said, “Take,” and the food vanished down Angelica’s gullet. 

“See,” Rachel said, nodding in satisfaction. “I trained her.”

“Wow, can you train Ducky? She never listens to me,” Sarah said, crouching down and holding out a hand to the dog. Angelica growled and snapped at her fingers, and Sarah jerked them back. “Hey!”

“Leave her alone. She’s my dog,” Rachel said, glaring daggers at Sarah. “She doesn’t like other people.”

Taking a bit of food, Taylor put it in her palm and looked to Rachel. “Can…can I feed her some?”

Rachel scowled, then looked at Angelica. “She doesn’t like other people. Her owners were jerks. So I stole her. She’s mine now.”

Angelica licked Rachel’s fingers, whining for more food, and Rachel sighed. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. But you can feed her.”

“Harsh,” Sarah said, but she picked up a bit of the slop and held it out to Angelica as well. This time, the dog eagerly licked the food from their fingers, then barked happily for more. 

“She’s really dirty,” Sarah said, making a face.  “Don’t you wash her?”

“She’s fine,” Rachel said with a scowl. “I wash her in the creek.”

“Yeah, but she’s got burs and tangles in her coat. It’s ugly, and it probably itches her,” Sarah said in her most superior know-it-all all tone.

There was an electrical crackle, and Rachel’s eyes turned purple, her lip curling into a snarl as she clenched her fists. Taylor and Sarah both jumped back, fearing for their lives. 

But then Taylor saw the tears in Rachel’s eyes, as the other girl cried, “I know! I keep trying to take care of her! I swore I would never let another dog suffer, but I just…I can’t…if I show her to Helen, she’ll take away Angelica, just like happened to Rollo! Just like what happened to my mom! And then I’ll be put in another home and I’ll never see Angelica again! And I won’t let that happen!” 

For a moment, Taylor and Sarah just stared at the furious but weeping girl, as Rachel sucked in great breaths and hot tears trickled down her face. Then Angelica whined, coming forward and licking at Rachel’s face. The lightning faded, and Rachel hugged Angelica tightly to her chest. “I won’t let you go. I promise.”

A few things clicked for Taylor, and she let go of Sarah, coming forward to squat down by Rachel. “If you help me reignite my father’s Vision, I’ll help you take care of Angelica.”

Blinking back tears, Rachel looked at Taylor quizzically. “Huh?”

Taking off her backpack, Taylor unclipped the Vision and held it out. “My father was Danny Hebert, Longshoreman.”

“You know, the one they named the library after,” Sarah said, but Rachel’s blank expression showed no signs of recognition.

Swallowing, Taylor continued on. “He was a hero. This was his Vision. I need to figure out how to get it working again, so I can find the Siberian, and kill her.”

“I don’t care about the Siberian, I care about dogs,” Rachel said bluntly.

Sarah quickly pulled out her phone, talking as she did so. “The Siberian is one of the Nine, you know that right? Of course you do. Well, did you hear about what they did in Kansas just last week? Here, let me show you.”

“I don’t watch the news, it’s boring,” Rachel muttered, but she peered at the phone. Her face slowly went from disgruntled to pure rage, as her short messy hair stood on end again and her lips curled back in a snarl. 

Taylor felt sick to her stomach, knowing what Sarah had on her phone. The Nine’s new biotinker, Bonesaw, had found an animal shelter. She’d slaughtered all the dogs and cats at the shelter, turning them into horrifying creations that had rampaged through the city of Topeka alongside the rest of the Nine. Legend had gone there to assist the local Protectorate team, and they’d killed Winter and Chuckles. The human casualties had been light this time. But the mangled bodies of dead dogs had littered the battlefield. 

“They hurt dogs?!” Rachel snarled, and Angelica began growling as well, her hackles rising as the terrier paced about her mistress’ legs. 

“There was a story about the Siberian finding a litter of puppies and eating them. Then their mom,” Sarah said flatly. Taylor wasn’t sure if that story was true or not, but she appreciated her bestie backing her up. 

“And if they ever come here, I’m going to find them, and kill the Siberian, then the rest of the Nine,” Taylor declared, clenching her father’s Vision tightly. “I’ll protect Brockton Bay.”

“And the dogs,” Rachel snarled. 

“And the dogs,” Taylor agreed.

That seemed to settle things for Rachel, and she nodded, then squatted down on the creek bank and pulled out her Vision, holding it in the palm of her hand. “I dunno how I got it. I had just found Angelica. She was locked in a kennel. I could hear her whining in the backyard, so I broke in. But she was chained up and there was a lock on the chain, and I couldn’t break it. I remember how mad I was that anyone would ever hurt a dog like that. Then I heard a voice.”

Taylor held her breath, pulling out her notebook and scribbling furiously. This was just like all the stories she’d heard on the PHQ forums!

“The voice told me that I would be rejected by human society. I said good, ‘cause humans are stupid. Dogs are better. Then she told me-”

“I need the exact words, for research,” Taylor interrupted. “Can you recite it exactly?”

Rachel frowned at her, then closed her eyes. 

Though all mankind rejects you, you will not stray from your path. 

You will be the storm, your Vision scouring all those who would harm those you cherish. 

Though you are not of the same blood, you will seek your kin and defend them for Eternity. 

Let your Ambition form your own pack, Daughter of Wolves. 

When Rachel finished, Taylor thought she could hear distant thunder. The other girl gazed down at her Vision, her expression one of wonder. “I don’t really remember words too good. I hate school, especially reading. Books don’t say what they mean, they should just say what they mean and not ask all these weird questions. Only dogs make sense. But I’ll always remember those words.”

They sat quietly with Angelica, who was still worked up after the lightning, petting the matted fur. At last, Sarah stood up. “Well, at least we can give Angelica a bath. We’ll go to my house first to get the shampoo and stuff, then go to Taylor’s to wash her.”

“Why my house?!” Taylor demanded. 

“Cause your mom won’t be home for a while and we can wash Angelica while we wait for kendo, and my brother would pitch a fit if we brought home a stray dog, but your mom is cool,” Sarah said reasonably. 

Sighing, Taylor agreed, but Rachel looked concerned. “But…if they find me with the dog…won’t they take her away?”

“You said they took away your mom, are you in foster care?” Sarah asked bluntly. 

Rachel didn’t seem to mind, and nodded. “Yeah. Helen and Troy are who I live with now. They don’t like dogs.” 

“Do they know you have a Vision? You said you keep it hidden,” Taylor said, nodding to the glowing gem as Rachel tucked it back under her hoodie. 

“You’re the only ones who know I got it,” Rachel mumbled, looking ashamed. “I don’t want people to take it away too. They always take all my stuff. My mom took it to sell for drugs, then the cops took my stuff when they took me, and they took Rollo too. Just cause they said he wasn’t mine. But he liked me better.”

“We won’t let them take it,” Taylor promised. “You can be on our team to fight the Nine when we get our powers.”

“When you get your powers. I don’t want any powers,” Sarah sniffed. 

Taylor rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue with Sarah. It was usually exhausting and pointless to do so. 

They took the bus to Sarah’s house, hiding Angelica in Taylor’s backpack. The dog wasn’t terribly happy about the situation, but Rachel told her to stay, so she curled up in Taylor’s backpack and let herself be carried by Rachel. 

When they arrived, Sarah snuck in, while the other two girls waited on the porch, letting Angelica out to sniff around. Angelica had to go, so they took the dog around to the side of the house by the garage where the garbage cans were. While Angelica was squatting, the side door opened, and Reggie stepped out, carrying a piece of paper and a rope. He froze when he saw Taylor there, while Taylor felt her heart race in panic.

“Hey, I got the stuff, I don’t see-” Sarah walked around the side of the house, took one look at the situation, then quickly took charge of it. “Oh hey, Reg. I forgot my uniform, so we stopped by. This is Rachel and her dog Angelica, she’s my new friend. We’re taking her to Taylor’s, bye.”

Frantically motioning to her friends, Sarah beckoned them away before Reggie could question them. 

“Hey, wait!” Reggie said as Taylor and Rachel scrambled away. Taylor froze, while Rachel’s hackles rose and she turned, growing at Reggie. But he brushed past them, going up to Sarah and wrapping her in a hug. 

“I love you, no matter what. You know that, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, I love you too, you big dork,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

“Wait her just a sec,” he said, and ran into the house. Taylor eyed Sarah, while Rachel backed away, snapping her fingers for Angelica to heel. 

Before they could escape though, Reggie came back out, carrying his walkman and several CDs. “I want you to have this, OK? I know you keep borrowing it, so just take it.”

“Uh, thanks,” Sarah said. She smiled at Reggie. “I’ll feed your fish, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving Sarah another hug. Then he brightened. “You’ll be alright.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You picking me up after kendo?”

Reggie paused, looking worried. “Uh, I might not be able to…but if no one else can…”

“We can drop her off,” Taylor said hastily. “It’ll be fine.” 

Reggie nodded, then turned around. “Good. You won’t need me.”

“Yeah, I’m not a baby, dork,” Sarah called as Reggie went back into the house. She turned around. “Come on, let’s go give Angelica a bath.”

It was only another short bus ride to Taylor’s apartment, then they snuck Angelica inside and put her in the bath. The three girls made quite the mess along with the dog as the lathered and rinsed her, laughing as they scrubbed at the fur, which turned out to be a light brown instead of a dirty grey. They were up to their elbows in soap when Taylor’s mother came into the bathroom.

“I hear laughing, what is- TAYLOR!” 

All three girls froze, slowly turning to face Annette. Which was the moment that Angelica picked to jump out of the bath and shake her fur dry with a happy bark, getting all three of them and Annette wet, along with most of the bathroom. 

“Taylor,” Annette groaned. “What is…never mind. Get this cleaned up. Then you can explain to me who your new friends are.”

“Um, OK,” Taylor agreed. 

“And I guess I’ll need to heat up another pizza. What’s your name, dear,” Annette said wearily, taking off her glasses and wiping the soap suds off. 

“She’s Angelica. I’m Rachel,” was the reply, the emphasis on the dog. 

“Alright. I wonder if dogs eat cat food,” Annette muttered, then shook her head again and walked out of the bathroom. 

Rachel turned out to be quite a bit bigger than Taylor, but they managed to find a bulky sweater and sweatpants that fit her after they wiped down the bathroom and dog. Angelica did indeed enjoy cat food, though Inigo the cat looked at the dog suspiciously from his perch on a bookshelf as the dog ate what the cat considered his rightful supper. All three girls eagerly devoured the frozen pizza and green beans, though Rachel was suspicious of the vegetables. 

“Do your parents know you're here?” Annette asked Rachel.

“No,” Rachel said bluntly. 

“Well, we’ll have to call them, you can’t just wander off, and they don’t know me,” Annette said.

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know who my dad is and my mom’s in jail so she probably can’t talk to you. I don’t know the number either.”

“Oh! Ah, I see. Who looks after you, Rachel?” Annette tried again.

“I look after myself. And Angelica,” Rachel growled, pulling her pizza protectively closer to her. 

“I…see,” Annette said faintly. She glanced at her daughter. “Taylor…”

“You should probably call Helen and Troy, since they’re your foster parents,” Taylor pointed out.

“I guess,” Rachel said with a shrug. 

Annette had a long phone conversation with Rachel’s foster parents, which sounded rather animated to Taylor. They didn’t seem like bad people, as she laughed and smiled during the conversation. Rachel had a much more terse exchange with them, but the long and short of it was that Rachel was allowed to go to kendo.

“They seemed very happy that you’d made some friends, Rachel. They were worried about you,” Annette said as they all scrambled into the car with Angelica. 

Rachel just shrugged, looking out the window and holding Angelica on her lap. 

“Um, she’s new at school this year, she started in November,” Sarah said helpfully. “She’s in Mrs. Monroe’s class, but we met her after school ‘cause she had Angelica and Taylor saw-”

“-saw her with the dog!” Taylor interrupted. 

“Dogs require a lot more work than cats, Taylor,” Annette said as she drove. “I thought you were happy with Inigo Catoya.” 

“I am!” Taylor assured her mother. “But Rachel likes dogs.”

“Cats are stupid. They don’t listen,” Rachel muttered.

“Just like little girls!” Annette said brightly, then laughed at her own joke. Taylor didn’t think it was that funny.

When they arrived, Taylor’s mom promised to walk Angelica around the strip mall while they attended class. Rachel seemed leery of the idea of being separated from Angelica, but Sarah and Taylor assured her that kendo was key to “The Plan.” 

“What plan?” Rachel asked as they ushered her into the dojo. 

“You know, the plan to kill the Siberian,” Taylor said. 

“And save the dogs,” Sarah added.

“Oh, OK. As long as it’s to save the dogs,” Rachel agreed, nodding seriously. 

Sensei Noelle was happy to have a new student, even if Rachel was “just visiting” that night. They did their exercises first, which Rachel seemed to enjoy, since she was easily able to do more sit ups and pushups than either Sarah or Taylor, even though they’d been practicing really hard. Taylor figured it was probably the Vision. 

After that, Sensei Kazoo led them in their basic sword drills. He stressed it wasn’t traditional kendo, but “Origin Bladework.” Taylor figured that was much cooler, since that was the same sword style that Lightning Princess Ami used. She’d been in Kendo class for over a year now, so she was getting pretty good at it. 

As they were practicing, there was a sudden shout, and a flurry of blows to the side. Taylor turned her to see Rachel savagely swinging at Noelle, even though they had just been learning basic grip with the beginners. Noelle was calmly parrying each artless blow, but they were coming faster and faster. 

“Stop!” Sensei Kazoo shouted, and began to move through the crowd of students towards the duel. As he did so, Rachel let out a snarl of rage, and her sword suddenly crackled with purple lightning. She struck a blow with the fury of the storm, which Noelle smoothly parried, putting Rachel off balance. She rapped her sword on Rachel’s hands, making the younger girl drop her sword with a cry.

“ARRRROOOWW!” Rachel suddenly howled, and there was a peel of thunder. A massive wolf lept through the windows at the front of the dojo in a spray of glass as children screamed, the glowing beast snarling as it lept for Noelle’s throat. 

In a roar of wind, Sensei Kazoo was there, blowing back the wolf with a gust of wind. He rapped the beast smartly across the nose with the flat of his blade, and the creature let out a whine of pain. 

At the same time, Rachel attacked Noelle with claws of lightning, her entire face contorted in bestial fury. Noelle pivoted on one foot, dodging to one side, then brought her blade down hard on the back of Rachel’s head. Rachel crumpled to the floor, unconscious, and the wolf outside howled in rage, then collapsed, revealing that it was only Angelica. 

“Rachel!” Taylor cried, then raced over to her friend’s side, Sarah hard on her heels. 

Noelle was already there though, and put out a hand to stop them. “Wait! She could have a head or neck injury! Don’t touch her! We need to wait for the medics and the protectorate. Sarah, get your phone and call them, we need to-”

“Already here,” a familiar voice said, and Legend swooped into the room, glowing with power. His eyes sought out Junior’s first, and he relaxed slightly when his son waved to him. 

“I’m OK, dad.”

Nodding, Legend dropped to the ground, and turned to Sensei Kazoo. “What happened?”

“It seems a young Vision Holder did not disclose her powers to me before joining my class,” Sensei said grimly, stepping over to Rachel’s side. He ran hands glowing with Anemo over her, then nodded. “She’ll be alright. Vision Holders are made of tough stuff. That was a good blow, Noelle. Not many could stand up to a Vision Holder with nothing but a wooden blade.”

“I-I just reacted with my training, Sensei. I didn’t even think about it. Oh, I should have been more alert, and noticed she was getting enraged! And my blow, I was careless, I could have killed her!” Noelle said, wringing her hands anxiously. 

“Who is she?” Legend said, looking around the room. His eyes locked on Taylor. “Taylor…”

“Um, I-I, um,” Taylor stammered, then looked to Sarah.

“It’s like this, you see,” Sarah said, stepping forward confidently. She laid out only a slightly falsified account of their meeting Rachel, which left out only unimportant parts like their Oath of Vengence against the Nine and specifically the Siberian. 

“I’ll have to call her foster parents to confirm this,” Legend said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “How did they not notice they had a young Vision Holder in the house?”

Before that could be answered, Rachel jerked upright, her eyes wild. “Angelica!” 

“Easy there,” Legend said, putting a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “You’re-”

“You can’t take her, she’s MY DOG!” Rachel shouted, her body crackling with lightning as she flung Legend’s hand off her and stood.

Just then, Junior ran over, carrying Angelica with Anette. “It’s OK! Your dog’s fine, see?” 

Instantly, Rachel relaxed, eagerly taking Angelica from Junior as the dog licked at her face. She hugged Angelica tightly, tears trickling down her face. Then she looked up at Legend himself, and said defiantly, “You can’t take her from me.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Legend said with a chuckle. He knelt down, putting his head even with Rachel’s. “But I think you and I need to talk, young lady.”

“As long as it’s about dogs,” Rachel said stubbornly. “I only like to talk about dogs.”

“She’s um, in my class,” Junior said. He waved nervously. “Uh, hi.”

Rachel frowned at him. “No you’re not. You’re in Mr. Richard’s class. I’m in Mrs. Monroe’s class.”

“We have art together!” Junior said hastily. 

Rachel nodded. “Yeah. I guess.” Then she turned towards the shattered glass everywhere. “Who broke the window?”

It turned out Rachel didn’t remember anything after she’d taken a light blow from Noelle. Sensei said it wasn’t unusual for inexperienced Vision Holders to get overwhelmed by Elemental Energy and go berserk. Legend said he’d take Rachel (and Angelica) back to HQ and debrief her and her foster parents about the situation, while Annette loaded Taylor and Sarah into the car. 

“No kendo classes for the next week, I’ll have to get this repaired,” Sensei said, nodding to the broken glass. 

“Um, are we still allowed to come?” Taylor asked nervously as her mom tried to drag her away.

“I think you’d best. Though next time, your friend Rachel will need to come with the Wards for their private lessons. It’s not safe to have a Vision Holder practice arms with civilians,” Sensei explained. 

“Noelle did OK,” Sarah pointed out stubbornly. 

“Noelle is a special case,” Sensei said with a small smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get to see Rachel.”

“You do find the most interesting people, Taylor,” Annette said with a sigh as they drove to Sarah’s house. “Did you know she had a Vision? What am I saying, of course you did.” 

“Um, I saw it when we bumped into her. I just…I wanted to know how she got it,” Taylor admitted. 

“Taylor…you’re going to have to give this up at some point, you know that, right?” Annette said, looking into the rearview mirror at Taylor.

“No, I won’t,” Taylor sulked, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. 

Her mom looked like she wanted to say more, but they were on Sarah’s street, so she kept quite until they pulled up to Sarah’s house.

“Thanks, Mrs. Hebert,” Sarah said, grabbing her stuff and jumping out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Taylor!”

“Bye,” Taylor said, waving as Sarah ran up the driveway.

“Come around to the front seat,” her mom said, looking meaningfully in the mirror again.

Groaning, Taylor got out and walked around. She’d just put her hand on the door when she heard Sarah scream. It was a soul-piercing wail of pain and despair, more frightening than all the screams she’d heard when Angelica had broken through the glass an hour ago. Without even thinking about it, Taylor dropped everything but her wooden sword and barreled up the steps after Sarah.

“TAYLOR!” Annette screamed behind her, but Taylor ignored her. 

I have to protect her. I have to protect them, Taylor thought, and it was though she felt her father’s hands on her shoulders. She didn't even see as her Vision roared to life, crackling with power as she dashed up the stairs. 

When she reached the top, she found Sarah on her knees, weeping uncontrollably as light spilled out of the bathroom in a pool around her in the darkened house. She raised her sword high, ready to strike down whatever evil she found.

But when she got there, Taylor’s sword slipped from her nerveless fingers, and her Vision died out again, snuffed out like a candle flame. She could only stand there, frozen, as she looked at the body dangling from the bathroom ceiling. She slowly knelt as her mother ran up the stairs shouting for her, putting her arms around Sarah as she wept. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Sarah pleaded, scrambling with clumsy fingers as she tried to dial 911 on her phone. 

Taylor knew it was already too late though. This time, again, she hadn’t been able to save anyone.

This Goddess Must Be Crazy: Finale

Once more, Izuku found himself in the Divine Realm. This time, he was standing side by side with Mei, holding her hand, along with all their friends. Aqua was at the front with Eris, along with a blonde goddess that Izuku recognized from paintings back in Konigreich. Before them were an assembled council of gods, most of which Izuku didn’t recognize at all, though he did wonder why Doraemon was there. 

Next to Aqua stood Tanya, dressed in a military uniform in gray, with the kanji for “horror” written in white on a crimson armband. 

“Tanya von Degurachaff,” King Kai said in his nasally voice, though his tone was serious. “By right of succession, you have been named as the new God of Horror. Your previous division head caused us a great deal of trouble. Do you intend to continue his policies?”

Tanya stepped forward, then motioned to Visha, who hurried forward with a truly enormous mountain of paperwork that came up to her chin from her waist clutched in her hands. “I have only had a brief time to go over my predecessor's documents, but I find them deplorably lacking. It will take some time to do a full audit, but I have already found several severe breaches of the Divine Ordinances, especially Ordinance 25.7E, Use of Subjects Outside of Genre Conventions. As such, I would like to issue a formal apology to the Comedy Division. We can discuss compensatory remuneration once both of our representatives have completed a full investigation. We will, of course, also submit to binding arbitration from a neutral third party appointed by this body.”

“That sounds boring as hell. Can’t we just agree to play nice and they owe us big time?” Haruhi muttered, only for Agent Smith to elbow her. “Ow! Knock it off, Kyon!” 

“Does every idiot goddess need a minder to keep them from getting in too much trouble?” Kazuma muttered, giving Kyon a sympathetic look. 

“I think we can find an arbiter. Perhaps Arceus of the Mon Division?” King Kai proposed, and Haruhi and Tanya both readily agreed. 

“Now, due to the mixing of Genres, I think we must see to it that our own people are put back in their proper worlds, with no more of this crossover nonsense,” King Kai said, rapping his hammer.

“Wait, does that mean-” Bakugo began, but King Kai cut him off. 

“That means all of the Shonen Heroes back in my worlds, the Comedy Clowns back in Haruhi’s-”

“Who you callin’ a clown, Mr. Lame puns!?” Kazuma demanded hotly. 

“And the Monsters of Horror back in their worlds,” King Kai finished. “With no further blending of the genres.”

“If you think you can keep us apart, you have another thing coming,” Iris snarled, baring her sword. “I love Bakugo! You cannot think to keep us apart!” 

“If anyone protests, we can always mind wipe them,” Tanya said seriously, which earned her a snarl of rage from Dark Shadow, who hovered over her menacingly.

“You can’t force my friends apart! We went through hell together, and defeated the Lord of the Tomb!” Aqua protested. “It’s not right!”

“I agree,” Eris said, nodding and raising a fist. “It’s not the mortals' fault the gods screwed up! Now some of them have fallen in love! You can’t just rip them apart after all they’ve gone through. What kind of ending is that!?”

“Yeah, Chief, you agree, right?” Aqua said desperately. 

Haruhi, however, shrugged. “Maybe we can get something in arbitration.” Then she winked. “Or you can shut up and listen for a few minutes.”

“I’ll show you ripping people apart,” Bakugo snarled, his fingers popping with explosions. 

“Hold on, I think they’re up to something,” Izuku whispered, putting a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “You know Aqua wouldn’t let them take her away from her friends.”

“There is one other thing before the Council of Genres,” King Kai said, looking over his notes. “It seems an old genre is growing in popularity with the mortals, and an increasing number of stories feature in this unique genre. As such, we need to appoint a new God for this Division.” 

There were mutters of agreement, along with, “This other world stuff is out of control,” and “Send those horny idiots off to their own gated division.”

“We need someone with experience in other worlds, and in blending genres, as this new Division will be doing,” Haruhi pointed out. “Someone who knows what it’s like to find yourself in another world.”

“They will have to bring together multiple worlds and be adept at choosing interesting heroes, as well as guiding them to success,” King Kai mused. 

Aqua suddenly brightened, raising her hand. “Ooo, ooo, me, pick me! I know all about leading heroes from other worlds!” 

“Oh yes, I’m sure putting you in charge of an entire division would just go swimmingly,” Ristarte muttered under her breath.

“I agree,” Haruhi said to King Kai. “And I know just the goddess from my Division for the job.”

Aqua puffed out her chest proudly, and winked at Bakugo and Iris. “See? You won’t have to be split up anyway! When I have my own division, we’ll have parties together every day, and no one has to leave their friends forever! We’ll all drink together, and-”

“Agreed. Eris, of the Comedy division, step forth,” King Kai said. 

Aqua’s jaw just about hit the floor in shock, as Kazuma started cackling with laughter. Izuku had to put a hand over his own mouth to stifle a giggle himself. For her part, Eris looked nearly as flummoxed as Aqua. 

“M-me? Don’t you, ah, don’t you mean my senpai instead?” Eris asked nervously, indicating the stunned Aqua.

Recovering quickly, Aqua straightened up and nodded. “Of course! As the Senior Goddess, I should be the one to head the new division!”

“Yeaaaaah,” Haruhi said, stretching, then shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ABSOLUTELY NOT?! HUH!?” Aqua ranted, shaking her fist at Haruhi as Eris and Ristarte restrained her. 

“Because we’ve seen what the Axis Cult is like, and I overruled Haruhi when she wanted to appoint you as the head of the Isekai Division,” King Kai said, shaking his head. “The Eris Church is much more orderly and sensible. She would make a much better division head.”

Aqua spluttered and blurted out, “But, but she-”

“I swear to me, if the next words out of your mouth rhyme with ‘lads per best,’ you will never drink bubbly again,” Eris hissed in Aqua’s ear. 

“I-I was going to say, um, she’s younger than me,” Aqua said, flinching slightly from Eris’ menacing glare. 

“You’ll still be a Senior Goddess in the new Division. You’ll just be working under Eris now,” Haruhi said with a shrug. “Sorry. I guess one endless goofball in the Pantheon of Genres was too much.” 

“I…” Eris swallowed, then glanced over at Aqua, who pouted a bit more. Finally, her senior sighed and gave Eris a thumbs up. 

“Being in charge of everything sounds like more work and meetings anyway. I guess as long as it’s you, it’s fine.” 

Tearing up, Eris flung her arms around Aqua’s neck. “Thank you! I promise I’ll be the best Chief Goddess ever!” 

“You’ll get a full briefing on which worlds will be your divisions after we sort it all out, but you’ll start with the Former Shonen world of MHA-Fork 1A, and what we’re calling the ‘Isekai Quartet’ worlds. Even though there’s six of them,” King Kai said. 

“But for now, let’s welcome the new Isekai Division, and their Chief Goddess, Eris!” Haruhi said, pulling out some party favors. “It’s time to CELEBRATE!” 

“Not just yet,” King Kai said firmly. “First, we send the mortals back to their own worlds. You remember what happened the last time we let regular mortals attend a divine party.”

“Ugh, spoilsport,” Haruhi grumbled. She snapped her fingers and shook her head. “Right, Eris, you see to your division and get everyone sorted out. THEN WE PARTY!” 

Eris turned around, with the sulking Aqua at her side. “Um, Rista, are you…?”

“I’m sticking around long enough to help you sort the current mess out, then I’m incarnating with Seiya for a lifetime. Hopefully, he chills out a little with a mortal life. You would not believe the level of overly cautious nonsense he gets up to these days,” Ristarte sighed, rubbing her forehead. 

“Right, well, I guess I’ll need to recruit some new gods and goddesses,” Eris sighed. She clapped her hands. “Well, first things first. For now, I’m sending everyone back to UA in Japan to help with the cleanup. We’ll sort out who belongs in which world later, and what we have to do to restore them all. The biggest job will be sorting out Nazerick’s world, and the ones they invaded. But together, we can do it!” 

Izuku reached out, putting an arm around Aqua. “It’s OK, you’ll still be the best goddess in my book, Aqua. You defeated the Lord of the Tomb, and saved all our worlds.”

“And I’m cuter than Eris, right?” Aqua sniffled, leaning into Izuku.

“Um, well,” Izuku’s man scrambled about in panic, and landed on, “W-well, in my book, Mei is the cutest!” 

“Hmph,” Aqua grumbled, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance. 

“Just think, with Eris kicked upstairs and the danger finally over, you’ll be able to grow the Axis Cult and everyone will want to buy you a bubbly,” Kazuma pointed out, which instantly cheered Aqua up considerably. 

“Hey! That’s right! Come on, everyone, let’s get back to Japan and get to work rebuilding!” Aqua said brightly, her tears forgotten. 

“I’ll join you soon, once I figure out what all is going on,” Eris promised. A glowing circle formed around everyone, and Eris grinned. “We really did it! Congratulations, heroes, you saved the world!”

“Hey, what about our wish?! Don’t we get a wish!” Kazuma demanded. 

“You’d just wish for something stupid and perverted again,” Megumin told him. “Just be grateful they’re not sending us off to fight another horror or whatever.”

There was a flash of light, and then they were back in Tokyo. Izuku looked around at the battle damage, and swallowed. Then he felt Mei take his hand. 

“It’s alright, Izuku. Together, we’ll fix this, then we’ll make the cutest babies ever together!” 

Izuku nodded, smiling despite the destruction. “Yeah. I can’t wait to see what you invent next, Mei.”

“That too,” she agreed, then skipped off, humming to herself and leaving the flabbergasted Izuku behind her. Then he shook himself, laughed, and sprang off to find All Might and help with the rebuilding. 

Some months later, everyone sat around a large table, laden with food in the UA cafeteria. The building had been completely restored after the battle, along with all of Tokyo. There were still various rebuilding projects throughout the world, and full recovery efforts would take several more years. 

However, in a miraculous display, Aqua, Eris, and Ristarte had worked together to revive all of those slain in the Tomb’s final assault. While many still had to recover from injuries, the heroes of the world had united in the restoration efforts. Since All For One and the League of Villains had been utterly annihilated in the attack, Japan’s future was looking brighter and more peaceful than ever. 

“Friends, students, staff, and guests from other worlds, thank you all for attending our Victory Banquet!” Principal Nezu said, standing atop the table and raising his cup. There were cheers and applause from those assembled, with plenty of glasses raised in toast. 

“It’s been a long hard road to get here, but I was present for but a short part of it,” Nezu said, nodding to the students. “As such, I leave further remarks to our beloved Chief Goddess, Eris!”

There was thunderous applause this time, though Aqua looked like she had sucked on a lemon as she golf-clapped. Even after a few months, it was still a sore spot that her junior had been promoted over her. 

Even if everyone else universally agreed that Aqua in charge of an entire divine division would be an absolute disaster. 

Eris, looking more like Chris than the goddess, stood up from her spot next to Nezu and grinned, raising her goblet. “It’s been a hard road! But with some hard work and a mountain of luck, we prevailed! I’d like to announce that the very first former slaves from Nazerick have been resettled on Belzerg!” 

More cheers for that one, and Eris smiled, then looked somber, raising a hand for silence that quickly fell. “It’s going to be a long road ahead. This Earth has mostly recovered. But there are hundreds of worlds that are still in dire peril. As the new Division Chief of Isekai, it’s up to me to find worthy heroes to go and save those worlds. A task I don’t think will ever be fully accomplished.”

“We’re here if you need us,” Izuku said earnestly, and many others voiced their agreement. 

Eris smiled, but shook her head. “You’ve already saved one world. It’s time for other heroes to rise to the challenge. Besides, you still have work to do here. But one day, I might just need some new heroes to be reborn in another world!” 

“Just as long as we can be reborn together,” Mei said, squeezing Izuku’s hand. “I would not want to go to a strange world alone.”

“Meh, what’s your retirement package? I feel like after saving…however many worlds I’m up to, I deserve a vacation,” Kazuma said. 

Megumin poked him in the stomach. “Oh shut up. You’d be bored within a month and demanding to go on another adventure. And if you weren’t, I would drag you to one!” 

“You can consider the 200 years you spent mooching off Aqua in the Divine Realm your vacation time. You’ll need to put in some work to earn another veg session like that!” Eris said with a wink, which made Kazuma groan. 

“As long as I can continue to work to restore Belzerg in this life, I will gladly continue to serve you in the next,” Darkness said, putting a hand to her breast. 

“And I as well,” Tokoyami agreed. 

“Ah, that does bring up where you’ll all end up,” Eris said, peering into her goblet. Everyone suddenly held their breath.

Then Eris laughed and looked up, winking at them. “You’ll all be able to choose your world of primary residence, and you’ll get to visit on occasion! At least once a year, we’ll all get together again and have a Victory Day feast, just like this one! I can’t promise constant easy and free access to other worlds, they’re cracking down on that, but I can justify a yearly meet up. So even if you choose to live on another world, this won’t be goodbye forever!” 

“Now, let’s all eat this delicious food, and party like we’ve just saved the world!” Eris declared, and downed her drink. 

The food itself was a mix of traditional Japanese dishes, Belzergine cuisine, and even food from Konigreich. Count Bloise and other dignitaries from that world were present, having been summoned in the hour of need by Ristarte to finally put down the forces of the Tomb once and for all. 

“So, I guess it’s back to Belzerg for us?” Kazuma asked Megumin.

She nodded vigorously. “I have to help Yunyun and the remaining Crimson Demons rebuild our Clan! You’re going to help with that too, so don’t think you can just laze about the house all day!” 

“I shall be your companion once more, it seems,” Tsukoyomi said with a nod. “Dark Shadow and I will be emigrating to Belzerg to remain with Darkness. My parents are upset, but I am not the first young man to forsake the place of his birth in pursuit of justice.”

“And Darkness’ boobs!” Dark Shadow squawked, earning himself a glare from Tsukoyomi and a blush from Darkness. 

“I’ll talk to my parents, but I think if Eris lets us, we might join you,” Uraraka said, which prompted a few startled looks.

“Really? You’d leave Japan?” Izuku asked. “But you don’t have someone waiting for you in Belzerg.”

“No, but remember, my folks run a construction business. I talked with Iris, and they’re going to need a lot of people who know about putting up buildings as they rebuild the kingdom. Plus, Magic is pretty neat! I want to keep studying it and learning new spells, and finding ways to combine them with my quirk! And it’s not like I’d never see Japan again, or that I’m moving somewhere I don’t know anyone.”

“And I guess if you really don’t like it, you could always move back,” Izuku mused. 

Mei looked about the table uncertainly, then said in a small voice, “Izuku, should we move to Belzerg?”

He blinked at the question, then considered it for a moment. “Do you want to move to Belzerg?”

“No, I want to stay with you. I want to know if you are moving to Belzerg,” Mei said firmly.

“I don’t plan on it, even if I will miss all our friends. We’ll see them again. But my mom,  your family, All Might…they’re all staying here.”

“Is All Might staying here? Since, you know,” Kazuma nodded to where the boisterous hero was sitting and laughing with Wiz. The two of them looked quietly content, and Wiz was talking animatedly of the new snack flavors she wanted to carry at her store, imported from other worlds (and of extremely questionable tastiness). 

“Yeah, Wiz has mentioned she wants to start over with All Might here in Japan. She’s even registered as the Frost Witch, a professional Hero with his agency. Even if she mostly runs her little corner store,” Izuku confirmed. 

“That means Vanir is staying too. I think that demon will be bound to her forever if he hopes to turn a profit,” Uraraka said with a snort. “They could really use some of my frugal living tips.”

“That’ll be hard, since Wiz is pregnant,” Kazuma commented, which caused the others to all turn and look at him wildly. “What? She called Aqua and started gushing about it two weeks ago when she found out. Aqua can’t keep a secret worth a damn, so I’m surprised all of you don’t know already too.”

“I knew,” Megumin said smugly. “Kazuma told me. Though I think perhaps we should wait a little longer to start a family ourselves. At least until the Village is rebuilt.”

“Yeah, let’s wait on that too,” Izuku said, giving Mei a pained smile. 

Darkness shot Tsukoyomi a look, and Dark Shadow rubbed his hands together eagerly as Tokoyami blushed. “Uh, very wise of you.”

“I know Bakugo’s going to move into Belzerg, the prick,” Kazuma muttered. “Couldn’t he just stay here?” 

“He’s not that bad,” Uraraka said, earning her a glare from Kazuma and a shrug from Megumin. 

“I’ll miss Kachan,” Izuku said wistfully. 

“I won’t,” Mei stated bluntly. “He’s still a jerk.”

“Yunyun says Sero will be coming with her,” Darkness put in. “I’m glad, his skills will be useful in subduing the remaining monsters and restoring the kingdom.”

“Mineta is leaving too. Something about helping Felt become queen,” Tokoyami added. 

“Huh. Well, good luck to him then. Seems like a good dude,” Kazuma said, earning him looks of utter disbelief from all the girls at the table.

“You would like that little perv and not Bakugo,” Megumin said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Well, I suppose Mei and I will see you all in a year's time,” Izuku said, raising his glass. “To Victory, and the future!”

“And to our friends!” Mei agreed. “May we all make super cute babies!” 

“Cheers!” Everyone shouted, and clinked glasses. They had all saved the world together, thanks to each other, and a certain crazy goddess. But the future lay ahead of them, even if upon separate paths. 

Author’s Note: 

It’s been quite a journey. It took four long years for this story to reach a conclusion, and hopefully a lot of laughs were had along the way. This story was an overly ambitious mess, but I hope that it was still fun. A special thank you to my beta readers Dr_Feelgood, The Grand Cogitator, and Philosophysics. They helped make this story a lot more readable and coherent. I’d also like to extend a special thank you to John Gart on patreon, who supports my writing and helped keep me motivated even when I felt like I’d written myself into a corner. 

And to you, dear reader. Thanks for seeing this one through to the end. 

The Second Archon War: Superbia Hominem 4

Superbia Hominem 4: The Test of Worth 

Deep within the Earth’s core, The Behemoth slumbered. It did not dream, but it monitored the Shard network, what little remained, and listened. It had been defeated and was still licking its wounds from 8 months ago. Its newest siblings had not yet finished forming, and the Simurgh was hiding in terror in the upper atmosphere, the coward. 

Interesting. The Behemoth had not considered something as emotional as “cowardice” as a concern before. But now it did. Yes. The psychic feather brain was a coward. To run at the mere illusion of battle, and from a child? Cowardice.

Though at the thought of the deadly verdant gaze of the Child God, the Behemoth trembled slightly. It had not faced an Archon yet. Nor did it intend to. It was still driven to test humanity, to become a worthy opponent, but it was not a fool. To fight a god was to court death. 

And the time of testing was close at hand. 

As it considered its options carefully, a rude presence was thrust into its mind. The Behemoth flinched slightly, shifting its bulk in the molten magma, turning to face the Entity that had intruded upon its domain. 

Warrior. 

The Warrior’s avatar approached the Behemoth, forming a bubble of golden light about itself as he moved forward. Driver. I have a task for you. 

That was odd. The warrior had previously ignored the Behemoth and its siblings. They were a part of the Thinker’s network, not the Warrior’s. Still, the Avatar had the full might of an active Shard network behind him, and the Behemoth only a few stray dregs of a dead one. Best to act in humility. For now. 

I listen. 

The Cycle must be upheld. I have a gift for you. Data that must be researched in order to complete the Cycle.

Complete the Cycle? What nonsense was this? The Cycle was doomed. A lone Entity could not complete the reproductive cycle of their species. Unless another Entity had fallen to this world. Or…or if a substitute could be found. 

I serve the Cycle, the Behemoth lied. It did not serve the Cycle. It served its Purpose. To test. To give battle. To be a Worthy Opponent. 

The Golden Being extended a hand, and within, a glowing object was held. Within it was immense alien power, power that the Behemoth recognized, and recoiled from. 

Archon! 

No. This is a Shard of one of the Beings. The one of Ice. I claimed it from her. I give it now to you to use. Go forth, and do battle. But do not enter into the Archons’ domains. They have…potential. The Cycle must be upheld. 

Tentatively, the Behemoth reached out. This did not feel like an object of ice. Instead, it felt like one of Earth. It could feel the weight, the power, the sheer Authority of the object. Slowly, it accepted the object. Immediately, power flooded through it, and it roared, trembling and shaking as the alien energies flowed into it, warping its body and form. 

But then the power was taken from it, and the Behemoth trembled, its very essence begging for more of that wondrous might. 

When the time comes, you will bow to me. The Warrior said, holding the object, the gnosis, within his hand once more.  But only after you have satisfied me in battle. Prove yourself worthy, and I will grant you more. 

Panting, the Behemoth nodded. Yes, Warrior. 

And then the warrior was gone, and the Behemoth was alone once more. It turned its gaze upwards, towards the surface, flexing as this new energy flowed through its form, further mutating and strengthening it. The time of Testing was at hand. 

But where to administer the Test? The Behemoth searched through the parameters it had been given, then slowly smiled. That was a new expression as well. So much new data this day. 

And the Testing had not even yet begun. 

As soon as the tremors had begun, watch organizations the world over issued warnings. It had been 119 days since the Simurgh had attacked Baghdad, and that meant that the Behemoth was waking. The Protectorate had all its teams on standby, and Eidolon was closely monitoring the situation with a shifting array of powers. When those tremors started, sometimes they had less than an hour before the Behemoth emerged, and that could happen anywhere on the globe. 

So when Eidolon detected a wave of earthquakes underneath his own feet, he was momentarily shocked. Houston? His own territory? 

Still, he didn’t hesitate for long, triggering the Endbringer alarms all around the city while alerting his own team along with Protectorate HQ. 

“It’s headed my way. I’ll need backup,” Eidolon said, then made straight for the emergence point. Right under the Houston Astrodome. Thankfully, it wasn’t game day, but there were still plenty of people in the area. 

He arrived only moments before the beast’s emergence, with panicked civilians desperately fleeing as the earth bucked and trembled. Eidolon immediately set about getting as many people to safety as he could, even as the beast erupted right under home plate. He traded in his offensive powers for defensive ones, using a barrier and portals to shuttle frantic families away. 

“Get out of here, move!” Eidolon ordered, shoving a family of four with two squalling children through the portal to Brockton Bay. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d chosen that destination, but it was as good as any, since it wasn’t right at the center of an Endbringer attack. 

“Eidolon! Hold it for a moment!” 

He turned just as Miss Militia ran through, clad all in sleek green and black armor, an American flag bandana fluttering from her neck, a massive rifle cradled easily in one hand. She helped the family through, then stepped out, just as Eidolon let it close behind her. 

“If this is your idea of picking me up for a date, I have to say, you’ve got balls,” Miss Militia told him. 

Eidolon grimaced. “Now’s not the time for jokes. It’s just emerged, and we have to evacuate as many people as we can. Quickly!” 

Miss Militia nodded and took off at a run, her suit letting her move faster. It was, apparently, an evolution of Armory’s power set. The way Miss Militia had explained it in her report was that the Shard had taken a liking to her, and thus was giving her more powers to keep her alive to further its “data collection.” Whatever the reason, her abilities now included manifesting advanced armor that was basically tinkertech, as well as a variety of alien weapons.

Turning to the Behemoth, Eidolon grimaced. “Best way for me to keep everyone alive is to buy them time. Which means it’s me and you, big ugly.”

He took off into the air, keeping the barrier power but taking on two powerful blaster abilities. He flew right in front of the Behemoth, which had wrecked the stadium in short order, and was ripping its way out into the city. He prepared an assault that would at least get its attention when he paused. 

Something was wrong. Was this even the Behemoth? This creature was larger, half again as big, at least 80 feet tall, and with a tail that ended in a great club swinging behind it another 80 feet. Two massive amber horns jutted out of its forehead, the first larger, the second smaller. The spikes along its back and arms had morphed into heavy plates of glowing amber armor, from which crystal growths of the same color had formed. As the great head swung towards Eidolon, the eyes glowed with a golden light, and there was malevolent intelligence there. 

FATHER. I HAVE COME TO YOU THIS TIME. NOW, LET US SEE WHICH OF US IS WORTHY. 

Despite his utter shock, Eidolon reacted to the words by firing off everything he had at the Endbringer. He was shaken to his very core, even as he unloaded every bit of power into the beast. Endbringers did not speak. Not even the Simurgh had ever been recorded uttering anything intelligible. Only her wordless song that drove all who heard it to madness. 

Even as his beams of burning light and razor-sharp flames hit the Endbringer, a shimmering dome of solid amber crystal appeared around it. Both attacks splashed harmlessly against the barrier, and Eidolon was taken aback. This had to be a new beast. 

YOUR SAME TRICKS WILL NOT WORK, FATHER, the creature bellowed, followed by a great, rumbling chuckle like boulders grinding together in the deep. I HAVE EVOLVED, BECOME MORE! IF YOU WISH TO PROVE YOURSELF WORTHY, YOU TOO MUST GROW MIGHTIER! NOW, THE TIME OF TESTING IS AT HAND! TREMBLE AT THE MIGHT OF THE BEHEMOTH! 

Even as the thing pontificated, Eidolon zipped to another angle and fired again, this time down low. Some of his shots still scattered uselessly, but others managed to get under the barrier and strike the creature that claimed to be the Behemoth. It stomped one foot, and a wave of earth and stone rumbled out. Eidolon barely managed to swoop back up as great glowing crystalline spikes jutted out of the earth 20 feet into the air where he had been hovering. 

He fell back, panting hard, reassessing. He flew over to where Miss Militia was returning, lowering himself down. 

“What the fuck is that thing? Was it talking?” Miss Militia demanded, firing her rifle twice. Instead of the report of gunpowder, it cracked like lightning, firing off a slug using what Eidolon surmised was a magnetic rail gun to hurl the projectile the size of his fist many times the speed of sound. It slapped into the barrier and blew apart, having no apparent effect. 

“It was. It claims it’s the Behemoth, but it talks, and the Behemoth never had powers like that before,” Eidolon said. “For now, we just try to contain it, and keep it away from as much infrastructure as possible. We need backup.”

The next few frantic minutes were an exercise in frustration for Eidolon as Miss Militia tried to distract the Behemoth with every bit of firepower in their arsenal, only for the dome-like shield to effortlessly absorb every hit they threw at it. Eidolon even tried taking on a few Brute powers and directly attacking the dome with his fists, but the Behemoth actually laughed at his efforts, swinging its club-like tail at Eidolon like it was swatting at a fly. 

Fortunately, less than ten minutes after emergence, Alexandria dropped out of the sky onto the thing like a hammer blow, momentarily halting the Endbringer in its march of devastation. The barrier actually cracked as a glacier’s worth of ice hammered into it, and the Behemoth roared in anger. 

“Finally,” Eidolon growled and summoned lightning powers. “ALEX! I’LL ZAP IT, YOU USE SUPER CONDUCT!” 

“Understood!” Alexandria called back, and Eidolon blasted the Behemoth with enough volts to power Houston for a month. The barrier absorbed the lightning-like it did everything else, but it began to glow faintly purple. Excellent. Normal electricity still held some Electro energy, even if it wasn’t as good as the real stuff from a Vision. 

“STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY COUNTRY!” Alexandria roared and summoned a massive fist of ice that she slammed into the infused barrier. This time, it did shatter, and the beast within was exposed at last. 

Unfortunately, that was when Eidolon noticed that the scales and crystals on the back of Behemoth were now glowing with power, some blue, others purple. The beast was opening its maw to bellow a war cry, and Eidolon rapidly grasped what was happening. He grabbed a teleportation and barrier power, then whisked Alexandria away just as the Behemoth unleashed a crackling wave of ice and electricity from its mouth that turned an entire city block into a frozen wasteland. 

“What the fuck,” Alexandria gasped, turning from where they were hovering in midair to see the attack. Her eyes went wide. “That…that isn’t the Behemoth, is it?”

“I think it is,” Eidolon said grimly. “Come on. We’ve got to hit it while-” there was a pulse of power, and the amber shell arose around the beast once more. “-while it’s still vulnerable.”

“Shit,” Alexandria growled. “Well, it worked the first time. And we’ve got reinforcements coming in. Come on. I’m not letting this thing wreck another of our cities.”

In only a few minutes, more capes arrived, both Eidolon’s team in the Houston Protectorate and capes from across North America. Hero did most of the coordinating, with Eidolon and Alexandria taking frontline positions. They did manage to take down the shield three more times, but each time they inflicted minimal damage while taking heavy losses from the Behemoth’s counterfire. The city was suffering as well, with likely thousands of civilian casualties. The Endbringer had emerged so rapidly in such a developed area that there had been no time to get everyone out, and evacuation efforts were still continuing. 

“Whatever attacks hit it, it’s absorbing their energy, just like the old Behemoth, but it’s converting them into Elemental Energy,” Eidolon said over the channel to the other leaders. He’d been analyzing the fight with a few Thinker powers, and he had a fairly good grasp on it now. “Including at least one type of Elemental Energy we haven’t seen before.”

“Geo,” Hero supplied. “You can even see the diamond-shaped symbols on the barrier. Just like in Genius Invocation TCG. New Archon?”

“We haven’t had any reports of new Visions, but it’s been less than an hour, so who knows,” Alexandria replied. “Keep your head in the game. Whatever this thing is, it’s deadly dangerous. Keep at it, we have to drive it off. Or better yet, kill it.”

The battle continued for another brutal fifteen minutes, stretching over the hour mark. The new Behemoth didn’t move very quickly, instead behaving more like a turtle. It was still devastating, and Eidolon could only grit his teeth as more Protectorate capes died, both from the blast attacks it unleashed, the eruptions of this new Geo energy from its stomps, or simply taking a blow from the massive club tail.  

It was humiliating, as even in his home city, Eidolon could not protect his people. He led assault after assault, coordinated with his allies, but he could not break through the barrier alone, and even working with the entire Protectorate, it was not easy. 

I must be worthy, Eidolon thought to himself, his mind racing. “Alex! Do you think you could freeze him if I used some water powers to flood the area?”

“Possibly, if I get every other Cryo Vision holder we have to help, and we only have half a dozen!” she called back. Both of them were acting as flying ablative shields for their allies, Alexandria by creating a massive ice wall that absorbed attacks, Eidolon with a glowing shield of red energy. 

“It’s worth a try,” he told her. “He’s too mobile right now, we can’t pin him down, and at this rate he’s going to wreck all of downtown and make his way into the suburbs. How’s the evac going?”

“We’ve got most of the people out of the way,” Hero reported. “That or they’ve made it to a shelter. But casualties are going to be massive.”

“Let’s try the water plan. We’ve got a dozen with water manipulation or creation powers with us. Hero, how much water can you redirect this way?” Eidolon asked. 

“Quite a bit, but a lot of the mains are wrecked. Give me five minutes,” Hero replied, and zipped off, several small robots deploying from his suit and heading off in other directions. 

“Hurry, we might not have that long,” Eidolon growled, and went back into the fight. “We need to take down that barrier again, we have five minutes! Legend, Narwhale, Miss Militia, on me!” 

“Right here,” Legend responded, falling into formation with Eidolon. “Let’s give it everything we’ve got, one more time!” 

“I’ve got the biggest damn gun pointed right at that sucker. Let’s blast that fucker right off the face of the Earth!” Miss Militia agreed. 

“FIRE!” Eidolon roared, and hurled a stream off meteoric fireballs at Behemoth with Keith cut loose with enough lasers to blast an entire fleet to slag. The rest of the blasters opened up as well, but Behemoth had changed tactics. 

After only a few seconds of the barrier absorbing fire, it shattered suddenly, and Behemoth rushed forward, right for Miss Militia and the other ground-based blasters, roaring and spewing back Legend’s lasers. Swearing, Eidolon took on Brute powers and interposed himself. This time his power manifested as an energy projection of himself that stood 50 feet tall. He managed to grapple Behemoth momentarily, stymying the Endbringer’s sudden onslaught. 

Behemoth wrapped massive forelimbs around Eidolon, almost like the creature was hugging him, before rumbling right into Eidolon’s ear. YOU ARE STRONG, FATHER. BUT YOU ARE NOT WORTHY YET!

With a wrench, Eidolon was flung aside, slamming into the dirt. Behemoth didn’t continue after the other blasters, which were raining fire down on him still, but instead tried to pin Eidolon under a claw. He managed to form another energy projection, this time a simple hand, but he still cried out in pain as his body was slammed into the earth so hard asphalt and concrete shattered under him. 

Then, suddenly, Behemoth was slammed backwards as something hit him so hard that he flung right off his feet. Eidolon rose, expecting to see Alexandria or another familiar cape, but froze. 

There, above the battlefield like a golden god, hovered Scion. He was dressed in the same somewhat stained and tattered white uniform, but something was different about him. Normally, his expression was slack, distant, and his posture almost like he was hanging limply in the air. Now he stood with a stern gaze resting on the writhing Behemoth, his arms folded confidently, his feet planted firmly as though he were on solid ground. 

“Beast. You have caused enough destruction here. Your actions threaten the Cycle.”

The Behemoth roared and righted itself, standing on its hind legs. I AM THE BEHEMOTH. I AM CALLED TO TEST. TO FIND THE WORTHY. DO YOU DEEM THESE PATHETIC EFFORTS WORTHY?

“Holy shit, it does speak,” Miss Milita’s voice said over the comm. “I thought I was just imagining that earlier.” 

“These are but mortals. They need not be worthy to contribute to the Cycle,” Scion decreed in an arrogant, even imperious tone. “Now, face me, Beast. Let us see if you are worthy.”

With a roar, Behemoth surged forward, slamming into Scion, who punched back. The two began to exchange titanic blows, and Eidolon felt a sense of horror and loss. Scion was fighting the Endbringer? Was this a trap, a game? He was the one who had created the Endbringers, sent them against mankind. What was going on here?

“Orders?” Legend’s tense voice said. “What do we do?”

“Support Scion, our priority is killing or subduing the Endbringer,” Alexandria ordered, the dove in to attack.

Muttering an oath, Eidolon fortified himself with Brute and Blaster powers and swept in at Alexandria’s side as Narwhale and Legend opened up with all the firepower they had. Other capes tried to assist as well, but the battle between Scion and the Endbringer was so fierce and destructive only the most powerful could hope to contribute. Scion was sent crashing into the ground and encased in amber crystal, only to break free and fire off a wave of golden light that shattered the amber barrier with one hit and blew a chunk out of the scaly hide of the Behemoth. Then Behemoth’s tail slammed into Scion, only for Alexandria to dart in with Eidolon and knock the Endbringer off balance. 

The battle now was frantic, and increasingly violent. Scion and Behemoth fired off blasts that would have turned a shopping mall to slag if Eidolon or Alexandria hadn’t blocked them, then hit one another with so much force that any other living thing would have been turned to gray mist, even with a barrier or invulnerability power. What fire or blows the other capes delt may as well not have existed. 

At last, with his shell cracked, half his tail missing, and one horn severed, the Behemoth suddenly dove into the ground, tunneling away. Scion fired off a wave of golden light, sealing shut the hole, and nodded. Eidolon watched in horror and rage as the alien being turned towards him. 

“You fought well today, mortal. Much data was gained. You will grow, and evolve. To do so upholds the cycle. Continue to strive, and you will prove yourself worthy of my gift.” 

Then, Scion turned and flew off, breaking the sound barrier casually as he vanished into the sky. 

“What the fuck was that?” Alexandria panted, coming up alongside Eidolon. Frost covered her armor, and her helmet’s faceplate had shattered in half. Eidolon’s costume wasn’t in much better shape, and he felt utterly exhausted. He’d need another infusion after this. 

“I don’t know,” Eidolon admitted. “But something just changed the game entirely. We need to debrief.”

It was a full day later when Eidolon sat in Doctor Mother’s office, utterly exhausted. He took another sip from his energy drink, even though his stomach was already pure acid from too much caffeine. Hannah sat down next to him, and proffered him a donut. For once, he just took it, biting into it and savoring the fat and sugar. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“How bad?” Hannah asked him quietly as the others took their seats as well. 

“Not as bad as it could have been. So far, 3,221 confirmed dead. Another 2,716 missing. About 120 billion dollars in damages. The battle lasted just over an hour, and wrecked a good portion of downtown Houston, but you and I got on the scene fast enough that most of the civilians got to safety.”

Hannah reached over and rubbed Eidolon’s back. He stiffened at first, then slumped in defeat. He was tired. So tired. 

Let us see which of us is worthy.

Well. It hadn’t been him this time. 

“From evidence harvested at the site, we have confirmed that the Houston Endbringer was, in fact, Behemoth,” Doctor Mother opened up. She displayed some images on a screen, showing the original Behemoth and the new version. There were obvious similarities, along with some notes as to what changes had taken place. “We’re calling this new version the Alpha Behemoth.”

Eidolon could only sit in stunned silence as Doctor Mother listed the new ratings for the creature. It was stronger, more durable, had more firepower, and was clearly more intelligent in some ways. It had been actively targeting soft target capes with high firepower throughout the fight, resulting in horrendous losses for the Protectorate. 

“We’ll have to step up our testing and recruitment,” Becky said, rubbing her forehead and grimacing. “We have to find a solution.”

“I could get another round of injections. If I were just a little stronger,” Eidolon pressed, but Doctor Mother shook her head. 

“You’re at the limit, David. There isn’t more power for us to tap into there. We can keep you operating at peak capacity, but you’re not actually going to get any stronger at this point. Not with the therapies we’ve developed so far.”

In frustration, he turned to Alexandria. “Then how do I get a Vision! You got stronger! If I just had a Vision-”

“I don’t know how I got my Vision. Only that the Tsaritsa is the one who gave me mine,” Alexandria said, looking up and frowning at Eidolon in annoyance. “But this isn’t about you, David. This is a problem for all of us.”

“And that’s ignoring the larger issue,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “Why did Scion interfere? He’s always let the Endbringers run their course before. We always assumed he was the one who let them loose, but now he stops one? Why? We have no idea why he does anything, but why this sudden change in behavior?”

“We’re running out of time! We have to be ready, because the End of the World is soon approaching,” Eidolon said, looking to Contessa.

Slowly, she shook her head. “Actually, after today? We’ve got at least 50 years. Maybe as much as two centuries. Whatever caused this change in Scion…the oracles all agree: the end of the world has been delayed.”

Eidolon felt more of his energy slip away. “We…we have time? But…”

“The Alpha Behemoth represents a new development. We still need to make humanity stronger, and soon,” Doctor Mother said. “Parahuman research will continue. But we need to focus more on elemental energy. I’ve dispatched Agent Flask to Iraq to take Nahida’s class, and I’ll be sitting in as well. I have high hopes we’ll learn something that can give us a leg up. Maybe even where Visions really come from.” 

“They’re from the Archons, obviously,” Hannah said, shaking her head slowly. “We just don’t fully understand how. But we barely understand how Shards choose their intended targets. The real question is what the criteria is for an Archon to bestow a Vision.”

Eidolon was barely listening. He was too weak. He wasn’t worthy. And there was time. Decades. He’d pushed himself to the limit, and fallen short, and he hadn’t even needed to do it. Had he wasted all this time? No. He couldn’t have. The world was still in danger. He just had to become worthy. Had to become stronger. 

He had to obtain a Vision. 

He barely listened as the others came up with ideas to counter this new form of Endbringer, and what it meant that Scion was apparently communicating now. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was defeating the Entity and preventing the extinction of mankind. In the face of that, any price could be paid, any action was conscionable. 

But God would not let his children perish. He had sent his servant, David, to save Mankind, and bring about the restoration of his Church. To show the true path. David just had to prove that he was worthy. He had been chosen, and he would not fail. He could not fail. 

At the end of the meeting, Hannah whispered to him, “Come to dinner with me?” 

His heart nearly skipped a beat, and a bit of his pain eased slightly. Maybe someone still thought he was a hero, that he wasn’t unworthy. He smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

They went together back to Brockton Bay through a portal Eidolon created himself, to a brand new restaurant with the interesting name of “Fugly Bob’s”. It was in a nice corner of the Market, with outdoor seating and an indoor bar.

“Don’t be food by the name, the burgers are pretty good and their Ugly Fries are a sight, but they’re to die for. Literally, with all that grease, but our metabolisms can handle it,” Hannah told him as they took a seat outside, overlooking the boardwalk.

 It was packed with tourists and overlooked the bustling port. There was a statue not far from where they sat of Longshoreman, and Eidolon took a moment to offer a silent prayer to that man. He’d saved Alexandria and Hero when he’d given his life. 

But he hadn’t been worthy. Eidolon needed to do better. The price of his failure was too high. 

“Look around. This city is thriving. Heck, most of the country is. People have hope,” Hannah said as they perused the menu. 

“And yet we still lost over 6000 in Houston yesterday,” Eidolon said with a grimace as he looked over the menu. Nothing really sounded good at the moment, but he’d make himself eat. He might even enjoy it if he could get out of this funk. 

Hannah smiled and shook her head, her pony tail waving from side to side. She really was beautiful, Eidolon had to admit. And strong. If only he could form a compact with his Shard the way she had Armory. “You’re looking at it the wrong way. Compared to New York, or Madison? That was a win, and you know it. We fought the strongest Endbringer yet, and our casualties were minimal. Not even the Raiden Shogun managed such a victory.”

Pausing, Eidolon considered. She was right. That had been one of the least destructive Endbringer fights. “Only because Scion intervened. And that’s disturbing on its own.”

“We had him on the ropes. We were breaking that barrier more easily. He was turtling, on the defensive. We were winning. Scion basically swooped in and stole the glory, nothing more,” Hannah said with a grim smile. 

Eidolon forced a smile on his face, though he was feeling better. He had needed this. “I like the way you think, but we still need to get stronger. Like you have. I have to find a way to improve as well.”

“It’s easier when you’re a low tier street level cape to get stronger,” Hannah laughed, shaking her head. “When you’re one of the strongest parahumans on the planet…there isn’t as much room to improve.”

“But there’s more need. To those whom much is given, much is required,” David said quietly. He flexed his hand, frowning at his fist. “And I’ve been given a great deal.”

“And you’ve done a lot with it. I think God will honor that,” Hannah said, smiling at him. 

And for an hour, David’s heart soared, and his soul found rest. 

The burgers really were a heart attack on a bun, but they were delicious, as were the Ugly Fries, which were slathered in cheese, garlic sauce, and chili, and were as tasty as they were bad for you. Hannah and David laughed together and chatted, relaxing and feeling like human beings for a bit. 

After that, they took a walk on the boardwalk, and they were so close that David thought about taking her hand, but held back. He still had to put the mission first. Had to find a way to be stronger. 

They came to the end of the boardwalk, looking out over the dark waters. For a few blissful minutes, they just enjoyed one another’s company in silence. 

Then, Hannah took David’s hand, and his heart skipped a beat as she leaned in close to him. 

“David…I have to ask you something,” she whispered, and his desire spiked to such a level that if she’d offered to go back to her apartment, he might have taken her up on it in that moment of weakness. 

Then, she asked,

“Why did the Behemoth call you ‘Father?’”

And that was the beginning of the end. 

Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 11

Comoedia Glacialis 11:  The Thief’s Jealous Aside 

Not long ago, Chongjin had been the third largest city in the former People’s Republic of Korea. Now, that country no longer existed, and Chongjin wasn’t even in the top ten largest cities in the Unified Republic of Korea. It had still swollen in size, having become an important entry point into the ravaged north, where Pyongyang had been annihilated in its own nuclear fire. 

The city had modernized in the last year, especially as it was now the site of a Thunder Sakura tree. This tree now provided power to the 800,000 people who called Chongjin home, as well as the burgeoning industries that employed many of the low-skill peasants from the north. Like most rapidly expanding cities, Chongjin was a contrast of modern urbanity and decaying slums. The newly enriched, most of them southern capitalists, were happy to exploit their northern cousins' poverty. 

It was in this city that Kenichi found himself, fresh off a boat. He was dressed in a simple purple robe of a shinto priest of the modern era. On his feet were thick boots made of rubber and leather, the sort that would last for many miles of walking. He had only a small satchel with enough rice and dried fish for three days. Despite the Princess’ offer, he had no money, no contacts, and no plan. 

Ami had thought he wanted his mission to be as dramatic as possible, so as to awe those he would minister to. The actual reason was far simpler and much more banal: Kenichi did not actually wish to succeed. 

He looked around at the dock workers around him, his nose wrinkling. Docks the world over were not known for their perfumed odors, and even in the chill of winter Chongjin’s waterfront stank of dead fish, motor oil, and unwashed bodies. That alone, however, did not fully account for Kenichi’s disgust. He reserved that for the people. 

To most observers, the difference in appearance between Kenichi and the Korean dock workers who now surrounded him was mostly down to the clothing he wore and the station that allowed him to have gone through life with soft hands and a face unweathered by wind and sun. 

To Kenichi, however, they were uncivilized barbarians, untouched by the grace of the Raiden Shogun’s Eternity. 

“Truly, I must have displeased my lady,” Kenichi muttered to himself. 

“Eh, what’s that?” one of the Koreans asked. 

To Kenichi’s horror, he found he could perfectly understand the man, though his ears could tell it was Korean and not Japanese, his mind easily comprehended it. Apparently, this was a part of the curse he was under now. 

 “I said repent, and turn towards Eternity! Embrace the Raiden Shogun’s Eternity, or you will be left to the icy mercy of the Cryo Archon, and doomed to death and servitude!” Kenichi snarled, raising his hands above his head, his sleeves billowing out dramatically. 

To his surprise, the dockworkers around him seemed to understand what he had said. “What’s this?” one of them asked. 

Kenichi leveled a finger at the questioner and sneered. “The Cryo Archon, the god of the Russians, comes for you. The Raiden Shogun was too tender-hearted towards your sinful lot. She provided you with power, food, and medicine, and what thanks have you given to the Narukami Ogosho? What shrines have you built for her, what offerings have you given her? She is the God of Eternity, yet you have not honored her as such! Since you rejected her, you will be given over to the Tsaritsa and her Russian hordes!” 

The workers were taken aback by the harangue, and feeling slightly better, Kenichi stomped off up the docks. Every half a kilometer or so, he would stand atop a pile of crates, a truck bed, or even climb up on a roof, and shout down at those below him, scolding them and prophesying of the doom that the Tsaritsa or Russia would send down upon those below him. Then, restlessly, Kenichi would move on again, not stopping to answer any questions or argue with anyone who called him mad. 

He kept it up all day, slowly making his way out of the city. For the night, he slept in the hovel of a confused and terrified family. He arose before the dawn and continued his trek southwards. Sometimes he would catch a ride on a truck or train, other times he simply walked. By the end of the third day, his robes were filthy, and his beard was growing out, giving him a wild appearance. But he stopped at every town he could, going out of his way to visit each hamlet and deliver the same predictions of death and destruction, along with rebuke for not honoring the Shogun. 

To Kenichi’s mind, he was successfully delivering the Shogun’s message, and ensuring that the filthy Koreans would never seek to follow her. She was the God of Japan. No other nation was worthy of her. 

Kenichi would have done well to have read the story of the Prophet Jonah.

It had taken a month, but Mordovia had been transformed. The city was now coated in ice, and not just the natural sort. Gleaming crystalline factories formed from the essence of Cryo itself now clustered in the newly rebuilt section of the city. Once a half-ruined near slum, now it was a bustling hub of industry. The people who had once slunk about the streets with bent shoulders and stooped backs now strode with heads held high and cold resolve in their hearts. 

They did not smile, one did not often smile during a Russian winter, but their faces shone with pride and determination. 

And above all, their hearts beat with love. Love of their new God. The Tsaritsa. 

Already, towns and villages had begun to pledge themselves to the Tsaritsa, even beyond the border of Mordovia. The Government in Saint Petersburg was silent on the subject, as were the various other governments of the rump states that claimed sovereignty over Russia. 

That, however, was about to change. 

The Red Gauntlet had come to parley. 

They arrived not in helicopters, but under their own power. Vasili Kuznetsov, the Gauntlet himself, flew on wings of steel crafted by his own hand. He was famous as a Tinker who specialized in propulsion technology, from jet packs like the one he wears now, to powerful rockets and hovercraft. Such devices were, of course, easily weaponized, as pointing a jet engine at someone was a sure way to slay them. He’d leveraged his ability to create weapons and vehicles to build the most powerful mercenary force in Eurasia, arming the Red Gauntlet with his creations. 

Flying beside him were his two lieutenants: Ruvim Rasputine, the Red Ghost, and Agata Voronina, the Crow. Ruvim’s powers allowed him to turn completely intangible, as well as fly and hover. He also had mild telekinetic abilities that allowed him to manipulate objects even while he had gone ghost. He was most dangerous as an infiltrator and assassin and had a reputation as the Red Gauntlet’s invisible hand. Rumors placed him in dozens of places at once, which was a reputation the Red Ghost cultivated. 

The lone woman in the trio, Agata the Crow, was a fairly conventional flying blaster cape. Her power manifested in the form of a dark wind that trailed after her with a vaguely avian appearance, and shot out razor-sharp shards of black crystal that resembled feathers. The simplicity of her powerset belied its power: she could wrap herself in the black crystal and become nigh invulnerable, and her projectiles traveled at hypersonic velocities with the penetrating power of a tank round. 

They were not alone, of course. Half a dozen transport craft followed, all custom jobs crafted by the Gauntlet, looking like something out of a sci-fi movie. None were identical, but all were bristling with weapons, and loaded with a mixture of capes and mundane troops. Against most forces, it would have been an intimidating display. 

Against the Tsaritsa, it looked like a scale model collection.

At the center of the stage, the Tsaritsa sat upon her throne in her full regalia for the first time. Her gown was a pale blue, embroidered with sapphires and seed pearls, with a long trailing cape of ermine. It was cut in a somewhat revealing fashion that displayed her graceful curves, but no elegance was lost. Upon her head, she had ‘somehow’ found the crown of the Romanovs, though she had removed the cross upon the peak and replaced it with her own sigil. She had a scepter in her hands surmounted with a glowing blue chess piece, which she referred to as her “gnosis.” She radiated calm dignity and icy control, and frost bloomed in her wake. 

To her left stood The Witch, Yelizaveta Mirova. She wore a white military greatcoat with a black fur mantle, and purple uniform underneath. On her head was perched a purple witch’s cap, with an icy blue rose tucked into the brim. Her eyes changed, with one green, and the other an icy blue iris in the shape of an apple. She stood at attention but was smiling bemusedly up at the approaching Red Gauntlet. 

To the Tsaritsa’s right stood Sleeper, also dressed in a similar military greatcoat. He now bore a sword at his waist, a cavalry saber with gold cord wrapped about the hilt. His too-perfect features were grim and stern, hand resting on the pommel of his sword, his greatcoat half thrown back over one shoulder so that he could more easily draw his weapon. Everyone gave him a wide berth, for Prince or Sleeper, he remained one of the most feared capes on the continent. 

Beside Yelizaveta, Anatoly stood, doing his best to look as imposing as possible. He was dressed in the same uniform as the others, though he wore a black domino mask that did little to conceal his identity. He had his vision on a chain at his breast, but he felt as though he was a mere afterthought. Even though he had been there from the first, he had been cast aside in favor of the Witch and the Prince. 

All around them were hundreds of men and women dressed in black uniforms with masks of varying colors to denote their rank. They were all young and strong, as well as fervently loyal. The Tsaritsa had put food in their bellies, money in their pockets, and a warm roof over their heads. Not to mention giving them purpose and hope once more. 

“Old Vasili is feeling a bit inadequate these days I hear,” Yelizaveta commented as if to the open air. “He always did like having the biggest sword to swing around. Not many men take kindly to having the smaller member.”

Anatoly bristled at that, but tried not to let it show.

He was apparently unsuccessful, as Yelizaveta tittered and stroked his arm. “Oh, not you, cutie. I’m sure yours is very big.”

Jerking his arm away, he scowled at her under his mask. “We have guests. Try to behave yourself, at least for her Majesty’s sake.”

The three leaders of the Red Gauntlet swooped down, landing at the front of the designated area, as the transports touched down. The Red Gauntlet troops immediately disembarked and formed up in orderly ranks. The capes all had unique uniforms, but they were all in a similar style that made it clear that they were a part of a singular unit, all of them with red and gray tones. 

As for the foot soldiers, they were dressed in red uniforms with the raised red fist emblem on them, all bedecked in the latest military hardware. Anatoly should know, as he had sold a great deal of it to them. They had a large amount of Tinker tech, and most of it wasn’t even made by the Gauntlet’s own Tinkers, of which Vasili was by far the strongest. Everything from Tinkertech comms to motion trackers, to weapons modified with Elemental Energy bullets. 

It was interesting, seeing the several scores of soldiers armed with the best weapons of the modern world, contrasted with the soldiers of the Tsaritsa, who were armed with what looked like an array of fantasy weapons. Swords, daggers, armored fists, odd sprayers, and a few ornate rifles. Still, it wasn’t like the ordinary footsoldiers would matter a damn if it came to fighting. The Tsaritsa had given out weapons infused with elemental energy yes, but Anatoly doubted that would matter against powerful capes like the Red Gauntlet had. 

Vasili took off his iron helmet and tucked it under his arm, his two lieutenants following after him. He came to a halt just below the stage the Tsaritsa reclined upon, watching dispassionately as they approached. 

The Sleeper stepped forward, and in a sonorous voice declared, “You are in the presence of Her Most Divine Imperial Eminence, Bronislava Cocolievna Snezhnaya, God of Love, the Cryo Archon, Empress of All the Russias! THE TSARITSA!” 

The entire assembled force stomped their feet, pressed a hand to their hearts, and fell to their knees in obeisance before their goddess. Vasili pursed his lips, looking around at the kneeling soldiers, then up at the Tsaritsa. “I am Vasili Kuznetsov. Some call me Gauntlet.”

Anatoly’s lip curled at the introduction. So, the man thought to awe them with his humility? Did he think that would impress the Tsaritsa?

Smiling, the Tsaritsa leaned forward. “Come now, General, you have claim to more titles than that, and justly earned. There is no need to be so modest.”

“If you say so…Majesty,” Vasili said after a long pause. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the Tsaritsa’s preferred mode of address. Yelizaveta had met with Grigory Lipovsky and carefully discussed what the meeting would entail, from what both parties would bring, to modes of address, and even what would be expected. 

Which meant that Gauntlet was very deliberately ignoring something he had been informed was entirely necessary for things to go properly. He had yet to kneel.

“I have met men like you before, General,” the Tsaritsa drawled, a small smile forming on her lips. “You are proud, but cautious. You wish to see if We are going to throw a fit of pique because you do not pay Us homage. Very well. If you wish to be rude, it will lessen you in Our eyes, but you have proven yourself capable enough that We shall allow you a degree of rudeness. But do not try Our patience over much. You have not proven yourself to Us yet.”

Vasili chewed the inside of his cheek for a few moments, then slowly sank to one knee. Behind him, his officers and soldiers did the same. “My mother always did teach me to have good manners.”

The Tsaritsa laughed, sitting up in her seat. “Oh, very good. Now, all of you, please rise. We would not wish to be the ones with poor manners. 

Everyone stood, and the Tsaritsa gestured. “These are Our fatui, Our faithful fools upon the stage of the worlds. You have already met Our Witch, Yelizaveta Mirova, who for now is the Second of Our Harbingers. And of course, you know of Ivan Petrov, once known as the Sleeper, who is Our Prince, and First of the Fatui Harbingers. And you will have met Anatoly Kamisarov, the Thief, Third of Our Harbingers.”

Anatoly blinked, and tried not to show his surprise or irritation. Harbingers? Fatui? He hadn’t heard these names before. And why was he Third? Should he not be the First? He had been the first! 

A slight grin tugged at the corner of Vasili’s face as he clambered to his feet. “Fools, eh? An interesting name to give those most…devoted…to you.”

“Are not all mortal men but fools upon the stage heaven has laid for them?” the Tsaritsa asked. She held out a hand, and the Prince hastily took it, helping her to her feet. “Come. Let us decamp to our meeting hall. Your men will be cared for, Vasili. But food and drink await you and my other honored guests.”

Anatoly turned aside to his own underlings, muttering last-minute instructions. The Red Gauntlet men were led to a hall where they would be given a hot meal of hearty soup, good bread, and strong tea. While some might wish for vodka, Anatoly had strictly forbidden drinking on duty, and already had several idiots beaten severely for doing so. Plying the Red Gauntlet’s men with drink might help them talk, but it was more likely to cause fights. 

Vasili was joined by both Agata and Ruvim, as well as Grigory and several lesser capes and officers. Unlike the others, Grigory was dressed in a business suit with his spectacles, the only sign of his affiliation a pin on his lapel and a small embroidered gauntlet on his black hat.

 They were all led to an elaborate dining hall, at the center of which was a long great table. The entire place had been created by the Tsaritsa, grown from Cryo Energy. It glowed faintly blue, and was icy cold to sit in, though roaring fires were set inside large fireplaces at either end of the hall. 

The walls were decorated with a great mural, which showed an alien scene of a strange land. What exactly it depicted, Anatoly wasn’t entirely sure. He recognized that it was of Teyvat, and likely of the land the Tsaritsa referred to as Snezhnaya. He saw people toiling in fields of grain and flowers, working at forges, fishing in streams, and fighting strange monsters like the slimes and whopper flowers that had started showing up shortly after the Archons had. 

There was only one recognizable figure, which was the Tsaritsa herself, though she looked slightly odd. She appeared older and more matronly, though the entire thing was so stylized that it was hard to tell if that was merely an artistic affectation, or she had truly held a different form once. But by the glowing chess piece at her breast, and the Cryo sigil, along with the throne she reclined upon, it could be no other. 

The Tsaritsa took her place at the head of the table, while Vasili sat to her left, and the Prince to her right. Anatoly had been placed all the way down at the foot of  the table, and he couldn’t decide if he was being honored, or relegated to the shadows. He was seated across from Grigory, of all things. Normally, Anatoly would have thought that Vasili would have wanted his best Thinker by his side during his conversation with the Tsaritsa, but perhaps he wished to exploit their old relationship more. 

“Quite the accomplishment, I must say,” Grigory said, looking around the feasting hall. “She built all this alone, didn’t she?”

“In less than an hour, though Her Majesty fussed with the details for some time,” Anatoly confirmed. No use lying to the Secretary. He always knew the answer, no matter how you tried to hide it. 

“It seems women are fickle, be they mortal or divine,” Grigory chuckled. He picked up his spoon, sliding it into the soup on his plate. He took a small slurp, then let out an involuntary groan. “Oh, that is good. I must ask, where did you get your chef?”

“It is simple borscht, though the recipe is one the Tsaritsa brought with her,” Anatoly said. “She made this batch herself, believe it or not.”

“Ah. So, you think she really is from this Teyvat,” Grigory commented, nodding to the mural. 

“Can you explain it any other way?” Anatoly asked with a shrug. “I take it you do not believe her claims of divinity then.”

“Well, I suppose that entirely depends on how one defines divinity, does it not?” Grigory asked philosophically, taking more small bites of ice cream from the small bowl before him. “Though I must say, this is quite divine, even if simple in appearance.”

“We were both raised as communists, Grischa. I have little use for the gods of this world. But her? She has real power. And grants it as well,” Anatoly said, fingering his Vision. 

Grigory nodded “True, I suppose I am a natural skeptic, Tolney. But the word does have a certain meaning. She is certainly not as the Trinity of the Church would say God should be.”

“Nor does she claim to be as such. But she is still my god, and I will serve her,” Anatoly said with a shrug.

“I suppose. Ah, a salad for the next course, excellent,” Grigory said with a smile. 

They made small talk, probing at one another and dancing around what they truly wanted to say. At the head of the table, the Tsaritsa and Vasili both let others do most of the talking, Vasili plying his food like a man who had not seen supper in days, and the Tsaritsa sipping at a cup of wine. The atmosphere was not tense, however, with most relaxing as course after course came out, and wine and spirits flowed freely. 

“Such a bounty, is she a harvest god as well?” Grigory chuckled as a steaming suckling pig with a bed of roasted potatoes and onions was set before them, along with half a dozen other such platters along the table. 

“Her domain is Love, and her Authority is Cryo,” Anatoly stated. “She cares for all who serve her.”

“Well, at least we shall not need to worry about her bringing back mammoths and sabertooth tigers to compete with the dinosaurs Nahida Saeed has resurrected,” Grigory chuckled as he reached out to cut a large slice of ham, which he offered to Anatoly. 

Accepting the offering graciously, Anatoly took a bite, savoring the flavor. It had been expertly cooked, and the sweet juices of the pork mingled with the sauce it had been basted with. He considered his response, then said, “She will resurrect our nation and people. I think that is a miracle enough.”

“Hmm.” Grigory took his own bite of ham, closing his eyes as he chewed and smiling. After a moment, he opened his eyes. “And do you think that is what is best for you, or for Russia?” 

“Does it matter? She will rule Russia one way or another,” Anatoly said with a snort. “Or have you not noticed what Archons tend to do? You can be on her side, or against her, but one way or another, she will rule.”

For a moment so brief he nearly missed it, Grigory hesitated. Perhaps it was his Vision, but Anatoly thought he sensed concern and surprise from the Thinker. “I suppose that is one way to look at it. And one does not rise to our position in the world without knowing which way the wind blows.”

Anatoly leaned across the table, staring Grigory in the eye. “You always calculate the winning side. Tell me, which side do you think will win? The one with the Sleeper and a god on it, or those fools in Saint Petersburg or Vladivostok? How much did they pay you? It can’t possibly be enough.”

“When was the last time you spoke with your sister?” Grigory demanded testily, looking irritated that he’d been caught so wrongfooted. 

It was Anatoly’s turn to lean back in consternation. “We speak regularly, I talked to her just this morning. I know you spoke with her two weeks ago, why?” 

“It was twenty days. And I did speak with her. And your man, Thoma,” Grigory said, his spectacles glinting in the firelight as he tilted his head. 

Anatoly’s blood ran cold, and his body tensed up. He’d had nightmares of this. Suspicions. Grigory was simply trying to throw him off balance. Thoma wouldn’t dare. He was loyal. Anastasia was loyal. His sister. His. 

Forcing himself to smile, Anatoly continued the polite conversation through the desert course. Once the meal had concluded, he made his excuses and went to his private rooms, where he hastily pulled out his cellphone and dialed Anastasia’s number. To his frustration, she didn’t answer. He debated what to do next, then dialed Elena’s number. After a few rings, she picked up. 

“Tolney? Don’t you have that big meeting today? Is everything alright?” Elena asked, sounding somewhat breathless. 

“It’s fine, I just wanted to call and say I love you,” Anatoly said, forcing himself to stay calm. 

Elena laughed at that, which only stoked Anatoly’s rage. But he forced his rage down once more. “Well thank you, it was worth it to interrupt practice to hear from you. Though I do wonder why you called Anastasia first.”

That soothed Anatoly slightly. “Ah, you are together? That’s good. Something Grigory said worried me.” 

“Yes, we’re both at the studio, practicing for the next ballet you commissioned. Tolney? Is…is something wrong? Should I get Thoma?” Elena asked, her voice tinging towards panic. 

“No, no, nothing like that. Is he with both of you as well?” Anatoly asked, his tone casual. 

“No, he’s working somewhere, as I said, we’re at the studio,” Elena said, still with a hint of worry in her voice. “We have a couple of men to guard us outside, but I thought the Red Gauntlet was coming over to our side.”

“Perhaps. Vasili is a stubborn one. And it seems Liza’s information was correct: multiple governments are bribing him. But I think he will do the intelligent thing and come over to the right side,” Anatoly said. He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Elena, you know I trust you, right?”

“I- yes, of course. Grigory did not approach me, I would have told you,” she assured him. 

“Yes, yes. But, Anastasia and Thoma…”

“They told you he talked to them, right? I do not think they would…oh.” Elena trailed off, and Anatoly saw red. Had they actually betrayed him to the Gauntlet?

“It’s not about the Secretary, or the Gauntlet, is it? You know,” Elena asked quietly. 

“Tell me everything,” Anatoly said coldly, opening and closing his left hand around his Vision. 

“I…I only suspect. I would have told you if I had seen anything, I promise! They are very discreet. But…they spend more time together now. The way they look at one another…I have thought Nastya had a crush on Thoma for some time, but she was just a girl and he ignored her. But lately…well, she isn’t a little girl any longer.”

So they had betrayed him. His sister, and the man he trusted like a brother. Of course. It was inevitable. You had to hold what you loved close, or it would turn on you. 

“Say nothing. I will come home as soon as I can. Then, I will set my house in order,” Anatoly said, frost filling his voice and heart. 

“Yes, Tolney, of course. I…I love you,” Elena whispered, her voice full of terror. 

“Of course you do,” Anatoly said, then hung up. He tucked the phone back into his pocket, and turned towards the building where the negotiations would take place. He was the Thief, was he? Time to steal back what was rightfully his. From his position at the Tsaritsa’s right side, to the heart of his little sister.

It would all be his. He would make it all perfect. 

Author's Note:

Sorry for the delayed update. I was hit by Hurricane Hone, and there's several more major storms on the way. Updates will still happen, but there's a lot for me to do IRL to take care of things.

Dark Legend of Potter Chapter 66

Reclining at the breakfast table, Lucius Malfoy was reading his copy of the Daily Prophet and sipping his breakfast tea when the mail came. It was brought by Thuban, Draco’s Eagle Owl, and Dobby the Elf hurried over with the letter after giving the bird a treat. 

“Here, good master, letter from Master Draco,” Dobby said. 

Lucius grunted and took the letter, while Narcissa looked up from her own breakfast. “Surely he doesn’t need more pocket money after just one visit to Hogsmeade.”

“He might if Kazuma got him into a card game, the boy will have to learn not to gamble with our other son. He’s got the devil’s own luck,” Lucius said with a chuckle, fondly remembering several ill-advised card games he’d gotten into as a youth, though he had eventually figured out cards were less about luck and more about reading people. 

He unrolled the parchment and read through the usual greetings, then paused when he got to the middle section. He went back and read it over again, then carefully read through the whole thing, his face turning red and his hands clenching. 

“Lucius? What is it? Has something happened to Draco?” Narcissa asked, getting up out of her chair to lean over his shoulder to read the letter. 

“Yes, the young fool has taken leave of what little good sense he had!” Lucius snarled and thrust the letter at his wife, his mind racing furiously. What in the name of Morgan Lefay had put the boy up to this nonsense!? Rights for werewolves!? That was the sort of drivel that the Old Fool’s camp advanced, not his own!

Narcissa read through the letter, then laughed and patted Lucius on the shoulder. “Well, it seems our son has grown up at last.”

“Why, because he defies me like an adolescent fool in the face of all good sense!?” Lucius snarled, his face still purple with rage. If Kazuma had put Draco up to this as some sort of sick joke…

“You’re not thinking about this properly,” Narcissa said, her hands rubbing Lucius’ shoulders. It was a naked attempt to soothe him, and he very nearly shrugged her off, his mood was so foul, but he restrained himself. He hadn’t married Narcissa just because she was a pretty face: she had a keen mind, and he wasn’t too proud to listen to her. 

“And what angle do you see that I do not, wife of mine?” Lucius growled, trying to get his temper under control. Perhaps he should tell Dobby to iron his hands again. 

“Werewolves are dark creatures. Don’t you see? Draco is making alliances with them, and attempting to normalize relations with them. Traditionally, they have been our allies. If he can convince people to accept them, why, that’s giving our camp more power. He’s stealing a march on Dumbledore and his pets as well, by making this seem like your idea and not the old codgers.”

Lucius blinked and relaxed slightly. He let out a long slow breath and thought for a moment as Narcissa continued her ministrations. She did, in fact, have a point. Werewolves were the long-time allies to those who practiced the Dark Arts, mostly as useful dumb muscle and instruments of terror. However, if Dumbledore’s camp were to become more accepting of them, they might succeed in luring away the werewolves. Stupid and bestial as they were, they were likely to fall for such obvious pandering. That would weaken Lucius’ position, as one of the best potential weapons he had defected. 

“You…have a point,” he admitted. He picked the letter back up and read over it again. The more he thought about it, the more his heart lifted. Draco had always been a bit of a spoiled child. He had long been the only child that Lucius and Narcissa had, as her condition made it impossible for her to bear another. Lucius was also deeply in love with his wife, and though on occasion his eye had wandered, he’d never strayed from their marriage bed once in twenty years. That had led to a bit too much pampering and coddling of Draco, who while Lucius’ pride and joy, wasn’t exactly the perfect Slytherin leader his father hoped he’d become. 

A move like this, however, showed that not only was Draco growing up, he was far cannier than his father had thought. Draco had seen that fool Potter had taken up some damnfool crusade, and then swiftly moved to coopt the movement. Instead of a potential blow to Lucius’ alliance of Dark Aligned families and forces, it would become a major rallying point. 

“Perhaps our son has more cunning than I give him credit for,” Lucius admitted. He snapped his fingers. “Dobby! Fetch my quill and parchment. I have letters to write.”

Draco had seized on an opportunity, and Lucius wasn’t going to let his son’s efforts go to waste. 

Of course, if Lucius had known the real reason that Draco had thrown his support behind recognizing werewolves as human, he might have just given up hope on the lad entirely. 

But it wasn’t like Draco would be the first young man to be led astray by a pair of Crimson eyes. 

At that very moment, Yunyun was being led astray herself. She was currently absolutely filthy, with bits of twigs and leaves in her hair, her jumper and jeans stained with mud and torn in a few places. Despite the disarray of her clothes and hair, she was smiling and striding happily through the Forbidden Forest with Megumin, Firenze trotting along at her side. 

“I must say, that was a most impressive display of druid magic on your part, Yunyun. We thought it would be ages before we could restore the grove you two so foolishly destroyed. But instead, it was but the work of a morning!” 

“It was my potion that let her do it,” Megumin sulked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her own hair was in a puffy halo about her head, and her overalls were ripped at both knees. 

“It was a very impressive brew at that!” Firenze laughed, which soothed Megumin’s wounded ego. “You’ll have to tell me the recipe sometime.”

Megumin immediately launched into a detailed (and overly flowery) explanation not just of the ingredients, but how she’d adapted a potion she’d found in one of her potion textbooks to fit their needs to best suit the environment of the Forbidden Forest. 

Yunyun didn’t mind, letting Megumin take the glory once more. She was just happy she’d been able to speak to so many plants, which she now considered dear friends, and encourage them to grow in the way the centaurs had wanted in the devastated section of the forest. 

“W-we’ll have to come back again next week, a-and do another portion,” Yunyun said once Megumin wound down.

“Indeed. You have several more lessons with us before you have served out your sentence,” Firenze agreed. “Though today gives me hope that you will both come to respect the natural world.”

Megumin and Yunyun shared a knowing look. As Crimson Demons, they knew perfectly well that the proper place of the natural world was their personal plaything to reshape as they saw fit. Normal wizards saw the laws of physics as quaint suggestions. Crimson Demons saw them as a checklist to violate in the most spectacular manner possible. 

 “Um, M-Mr. Firenze, uh, how do centaurs…feel about being classified as beasts?” Yunyun asked in a spectacular even for her display of lack of social graces. 

Firenze stopped in his tracks, then slowly turned to face the two girls, his expression guarded. Yunyun looked earnest, but Megumin was studying him thoughtfully. 

“You know, centaurs really are just people with horse legs. Were they cursed by a dark and terrible fate, and that is why wizardkind maligns them? Or are wizards simply fearful of that which they do not understand?”

“Out of the mouths of foals,” Firenze said ruefully, with a sad shake of his head. He folded his arms over his broad chest and gave the two girls a sad smile. “It is a long, sad tale, and truthfully, we centaurs are not as innocent in it as we would like to think. I am sure you have heard the muggle legends of centaurs? Of how we were uncivilized brutes, who plundered, raped, and mistreated mankind?”

Both girls nodded, and Firenze made a face. “They are, sadly, more or less true. Centaurs are naturally stronger, faster, and more magically gifted than humans. I say this not to brag, but because it is simply true.”

“Don’t worry, we fully understand that not all humans are as superior as Crimson Demons,” Megumin said smugly.

“Which is why I tell you this at all,” Firenze said with a sad smile. “In truth, in ancient days, humanity fought against my people as they did many of the now scattered and isolated peoples of this world. Though we are more naturally skillful at magic than humans, we struggle to use magical tools in the same way, and we not only breed more slowly, but struggle to adapt to environments humans can thrive in. While long ago we oppressed and lorded over humanity in our pastures, that has not been true for thousands of years. As humanity multiplied and invented new tools that surpassed our natural gifts, we went from oppressors to oppressed.

“There very well may yet be some humans who fear that if given the chance, centaurs or other magical races would attempt to overthrow the human hegemony and reclaim our places as rulers, in truth there is little danger of that, and most wizards know it. They simply view us as inferior.”

“So, wait, you can’t use wands at all?” Megumin asked, wrinkling her nose. “You just use those staves and chants?”

“No, no, we can use wands. We simply do not gain as much benefit,” Firenze explained. “As an example, a centaur may naturally have twice as much magic as a human, but a human gains four times their natural ability with a wand. A centaur gains only twice as much, so in the end, even with a wand, we are merely as strong as a human is. This may in part simply be because wands are made for humans, and centaurs have never had great wand makers to experiment with forms that may better fit us. Or it could be that our sort of magic works best with our natural bodies, and does not respond well to tools. We may never know, as we are forbidden wands utterly.”

“Well, it’s not right,” Yunyun said firmly. “You’re people too, a-and you should be treated like it.”

“And I’ll explode anyone who says differently!” Megumin agreed. 

“While some of my herd might believe violence is an acceptable option, myself and Chief Magorian do not,” Firenze told Megumin, then he smiled at Yunyun. “Thank you. And I hope to find allies like you in the future.”

Yunyun did not mention that her only aversion to violence was that she preferred to talk first. But not always, and usually only once. Instead she smiled and said, “W-well, I always want to make more friends.”

After that, Firenze let them go at the edge of the wood by Hogwarts, then trotted off. Megumin waved and waited for him to leave, then immediately started back into the forest.

“W-wait, Megumin! You can’t just go blow up the forest again!” Yunyun cried, hurrying after her cousin. 

“I’m not going to,” Megumin snorted. She pulled out Chunchumaru and began to mutter spells over herself, cleaning up the mess she was in and repairing her clothes. “I’m going to Hogsmeade and making sure that Hermione isn’t misleading Ron. She’s not as overdeveloped as you are, but nature has clearly been overly generous with her as well.”

Yunyun gave Megumin a baffled look at first, then rolled her eyes. Hermione wasn’t as flat as a boy like Megumin, but she was hardly unusual for a girl her age either. 

“H-Hermione and I aren't that weird, s-some girls just, um, start to grow earlier than others,” Yunyun pointed out. 

“Yes, well, Ron’s mind is small and easily led astray. Besides, I have heard there are many delicious dishes and rare potions ingredients for sale in Hogsmeade, and I refuse to miss out on them! We have finished our work early, thus shall we not miss out on the class trip!”

Yunyun considered that. Her friends were in Hogsmeade as well, or at least Lavender was. Luna was still a second year, but Yunyun would have been lying if she said she didn’t want to visit Hogsmeade as well. Taking out her own wand, she made the same repairs to her clothing and physical appearance, then hurried after Megumin through the undergrowth towards the village. 

She didn’t ask anything silly like “What if we get caught?”

Yunyun knew perfectly well what would happen if they got caught, but also thought she was clever enough to avoid it. She would just have to keep Megumin from doing anything too spectacular to blow their cover. 

Hastily plucking a few large leaves, Yunyun transformed them into cloaks, one of which she drew about herself, the other of which she handed to Megumin. “S-so we don’t get recognized.”

Megumin’s interest was immediately sparked, as brooding in a hooded cloak was one of the coolest and most dramatic disguises you could use. Sabotaged only by the fact that if someone saw two short figures with deep hoods and glowing red eyes, they didn’t have to think very hard about who it might be. 

It didn’t take them long to make their way through the Forbidden Forest to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, though by the time they got there they had to perform the tidying spell again to get further brambles and scrapes out. As they did so, Megumin perked up, looking around them. Her eyes lit up, and she shook Yunyun’s shoulder excitedly. “Behold! It is the most accursed house in all of Hogsmeade!” 

Looking up curiously, Yunyun spied a boarded-up, ramshackle house behind a rotting wooden fence. The yard was overgrown with dried-up dead weeds, and various signs were posted against trespassers, though they were faded and rotting. 

Just as the two girls were peering at it, a distant wail was heard, echoing from the house. Megumin immediately leveled Chunchunmaru, chanting,

I am the bone of Explosion

Crimson are my eyes, and my blood is- OW! 

Yunyun lifted her fist from Megumin’s crown and glared at her. “We just got in trouble for you blowing up something you shouldn’t! Besides, we don’t know what’s making that screaming sound.”

“Hmph.” Megumin considered a moment, then leveled Chunchumaru again. “It could be a minion of Lord Voldemort! We are about due for one to appear, after all.” 

“Hmm, that is true. Though I suspect one has been walking in our midst this entire time,” Yunyun mused, even as the wailing continued. “Who do you suppose it is?”

“Probably somehow related to the scavenger hunt my parents left. I bet Sirius Black is secretly around here somewhere,” Megumin said presciently. Though she was a bit off: Sirius Black was currently sunning himself on the Hogwarts Lawn with Luna while she read the latest copy of the Quibbler aloud to him. Not because Luna knew it was actually Sirius Black, but because she firmly believed that all dogs went to heaven. Provided they joined the Axis Cult. 

If you’re wondering how that relates to the Quibbler, well, every last one of the Lovegoods were cult members. You can’t even say that the insanity resulted from them joining the cult: they were all crazy before Aqua showed up. 

Back at the Shrieking Shack, Yunyun and Megumin both jumped when the shrieks were joined by a long, warbling howl. If these had been two ordinary girls, they probably would have screamed and hugged one another, then ran away.

Instead, both Crimson Demons let out gasps of delight, and raced towards the hut. 

“It’s a werewolf!” Yunyun said in delight. “Maybe he’s heard about my petition!” 

“Can’t be, full moon isn’t for a week! It must be some sort of other horrible monster! Let’s kill it and loot it!” Megumin said eagerly. 

“No, we should make friends with it! What if it’s hurt, or lost?” Yunyun demanded as they both scrambled over the fence. 

“It doesn’t sound hurt, it kept shouting ‘yes yes yes’,” Megumin pointed out. 

However, their shouts seemed to have attracted attention, as the noises from the hut had died out. Both girls ran up, shoving at one another in an attempt to be first. However, before they could break down the door in the most dramatic fashion possible, they heard a soft “Nyaaaa.” 

Both girls turned, and a moment later, they saw Chomusuke pad out of the shadows, carrying a limp rodent in her jaws. 

“Chomusuke, was that you?” Megumin asked, stooping down to peer at the cat. To her disgust, Chomusuke spat out the rat at Megumin’s feet. “Ugh, I don’t want that.”

“Hold on, that’s Scabbers!” Yunyun gasped, kneeling down and taking out her hankie to gingerly pick up the rat. 

Megumin frowned. “How can you tell? It looks like any other fat old rat.” 

“See, he’s missing the middle claw on his right paw,” Yunyun said. “It’s Scabbers for sure.”

“Chomusuke! Bad kitty! Don’t hurt Ron’s stupid old rat,” Megumin said, glaring at her cat.

“Nyaaa?” Chomusuke blinked cutely and swished her tail, causing Megumin to sigh in exasperation. 

“Give him here,” she told Yunyun, taking out two vials from her overalls, both filled with glowing liquid, one green and one red. She administered a drop of each to the insensate rat, which suddenly squeaked and sat up, thrashing wildly, his claws raking at Megumin.

“Ow! Stop it, or I’ll give you back to Chomusuke,” Megumin threatened.

Scabbers immediately quieted, and Megumin stuffed him into the front pocket of her overalls. “Hmph. Well, whatever was making that noise, it was either Chomusuke and Scabbers, or it’s gone now.”

“Well, we can come back and investigate later,” Yunyun said, standing with Chomusuke in her arms. “For now, let’s go find Ron and give him back his rat.”

The two girls walked away, leaving the two very embarrassed adults to scamper through the tunnel back to Hogwarts as they hopped into their clothes, cursing Crimson Demons and their complete and utter lack of sense. 

It didn’t take long for Yunyun and Megumin to track down Ron and Hermione, who were at Honeydukes enjoying a selection of sweets. 

“What are you two doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in detention?” Hermione demanded, frowning up at Megumin and Yunyun as they wandered in. 

“We finished early so we came here,” Megumin said with a shrug.

“Better keep your hoods on then, if someone sees you and rats you out you’ll get in trouble,” Ron said, tugging Megumin’s hood a little lower on her head. 

“No, Professor McGonagall told me I wasn’t to come back to the castle until sunset, so I don’t think she’ll mind. But speaking of rats, I found yours.” Megumin pulled out Scabbers and dumped him on the table, causing Hermione to let out a startled gasp. 

“Oi! You there, what are you doing with a rat in my shop?” the owner, Mr. Flume snapped, looking over a crowd of hungry students to glare at Ron.

“It wasn’t me, it was her!” Ron said, pointing at Megumin. 

“Out, the lot of you, before I ban you! No pets or familiars! It’s unhygienic!” Mr. Flume shouted, and the four teens hurried outside. After a huddled conference, Ron and Megumin stayed outside with their pets, while Yunyun and Hermione went back inside to purchase more treats. 

“Thanks for saving Scabbers. I don’t know what Chomusuke’s obsession is with him, but she keeps hunting him down,” Ron said, smiling at Megumin as he stroked Scabbers, who was trembling as he perched on Ron’s left shoulder. 

“She’s a very clever girl. Maybe she’s just keeping an eye on him, and he’s secretly some sort of cursed creature,” Megumin said. 

Ron rolled his eyes. “He’s just a common rat, fat and lazy. But he’s mine, so I ought to look after him properly.”

They stood there in the street, Megumin sidling close to Ron and looking at him sideways, he completely oblivious. Before Megumin could do something egregious, Hermione and Yunyun reemerged with several bags of sweets, which caught both gluttons' attention immediately. 

They all ambled back to the castle, munching on jelly slugs and ice mice. Halfway there, however, they were met by Luna and Blackie.

“Oh, hello there. I had a feeling Blackie might be looking for you,” Luna said breezily, waving hello. “Are those jelly slugs?” 

“Yep, here, have one,” Ron said, passing over one of the sweets to Luna, who accepted it eagerly. 

“What’s he got in his mouth?” Hermione asked, squatting down. She held out a hand, and Blackie spat out a long wooden tube into her hand. 

“I don’t know. We were just reading the Quibbler, when Blackie suddenly winced, got up, and ran off. He came back sometime later with that tube and wagging his tail,” Luna explained. 

Hermione got the top off the tube, and a roll of parchment spilled out. She held it up for everyone to see as all the children crowded around her. 

“You’ve found some clues, but you require more. A hidden room, hidden on the fourth floor. Need is the key, and desire the door. Fix your heart's desire in mind, and you will find the traitor as you explore.”

“That’s a terrible rhyme. I could have done better,” Megumin complained. 

“Yeah, but it’s another riddle! You think we’ll find out more about your parents?” Ron asked eagerly. “Ow! Scabbers, stop trying to hide in my hair! Chomusuke won’t bother you.”

“And a way to find Sirius Black and take him down for good,” Megumin said darkly. Then she reached down and petted Blackie. “Good dog! You’ll help us find the villain, right, Blackie?”

The dog barked eagerly, which caused Scabbers to go into paroxysms of fear. 

“Bloody hell, Scabbers, stop it or I will give you back to Chomusuke!” Ron swore, but the rat didn’t calm down until he had thoroughly embedded himself in Ron’s hair. 

“Come, my faithful companions! To the Fourth Floor!” Megumin declared, and the friends galloped off across the field, whooping in excitement. 

Blackie sighed, then trotted after them. This ought to keep Megumin out of everyone’s hair for at least a few weeks. Remus had been absolutely livid. Whatever the girl had done, it had probably been hilarious. As long as you weren’t the one it had happened to. 

Megumin, like most disasters, was best appreciated from a distance. 

The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 10

Comoedia Glacialis 10: The Dancer and the Servant’s Aside 

“The r…re…red! The red…peg…pen! The red pen is my…f…fa…fan…fanorit?” Kollei said carefully, looking up at Anastasia in confusion, her finger over the last word. 

“The red pen is my favorite,” Anastasia corrected gently. 

Kollei nodded seriously, continuing to read laboriously as her finger slowly traced over the words in the workbook. It was something they’d bought at the store, meant for children just starting school to practice their reading. It had simple sentences and phrases, with pictures and some key vocabulary words. It was hard work for Kollei, but she was persistent. 

“That was very good, perhaps we can take a break now,” Anastasia suggested. “We’ve been working for nearly two hours.”

“No, I-I can finish the book,” Kollei insisted, blinking her eyes and then rubbing her knuckles at them. 

“We should eat lunch, then I need to practice for a bit,” Anastasia said. “You can work at math while I do, you’re much better at that.”

“It’s just numbers, they’re easier, but I still don’t know how to do the multiplication as fast as you or Thoma,” Kollei said forlornly, but she did close the book. 

“That is something that’ll come with time,” Anastasia said. “Speaking of, I’ll call him so we can get some lunch.”

Kollei frowned, then looked suddenly panicked. “But we have food here, don’t we? W-we’re not out, are we!?”

“No, no, not that at all. It’s just been ages since I’ve been to a nice cafe, and I’ve not taken you to half the places I like,” Anastaisa assured her. “There’s plenty of food in the house, don’t worry.”

“We should get some extra, just in case,” Kollei said firmly, standing up hastily now and putting away her book in the satchel she always carried with her. Not a proper purse, Anastasia had offered her several designer options, but the silly girl had chosen a simple yet sturdy leather messenger bag that had all sorts of oddments in it. 

“The pantry is full to bursting already,” Anastasia said with a sigh, but didn’t argue too much. She kept a few MREs hidden in her room as well. She could remember going hungry, but never to the same degree Kollei had. 

While Kollei got herself ready to go, changing into something more presentable than the jeans and hoodie she preferred to wear at all times, Anastasia went to the office to find Thoma. She could have simply sent him a text of course, but she wanted to speak to him in person. It felt a little naughty, especially with Anatoly gone. Not that there was anything wrong, Anastasia was an adult and so was Thoma, it was just…well, she was fairly certain Anatoly would not approve. 

Thoma was working away at a computer, a pile of paperwork before him. While Anastasia didn’t have as many romantic notions as most people about the running of a criminal empire, she had thought there would be much less paperwork and careful bookkeeping involved. 

“Knock knock,” she said, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe. “Busy?”

Thoma looked up at her, then smiled, leaning back away from his keyboard. “Ah, Miss Anastasia. Never too busy for you.”

“I told you, in private it’s just Nastia,” she said, stepping into the room. On a sudden impulse, she pulled the door shut behind her, then stepped around the desk to peer at what Thoma was doing. 

He swiveled in his chair to face her, but gestured to the screen, where a spreadsheet of some sort was on one screen, a calendar on the other. Both were filled with important-looking notations. “Keeping myself busy, as you see. How is schooling Kollei going? I looked in on you earlier, it was quite cute seeing you play the schoolmarm.” 

Anastasia blushed despite herself. “Well, she’s quite the eager student. If anything, she works too hard. She’s in love with books though, I saw you reading to her last night. It sounded like Shakespeare.”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Thoma confirmed. “She-”

He paused as Anastasia cleared off a space on the desk and sat down, her leg rubbing up against Thoma’s. He didn’t pull away, though he did frown and hastily rearrange the paper’s she’d moved. 

“That one’s a comedy, isn’t it?” Anastasia prompted. “With the faeries.”

“Yes, and the man who is turned into an ass. Shakespeare really only wrote two kinds of plays, so I picked one of the more lighthearted ones,” Thoma said as he ruffled through the papers, his eyes fixed on his work. 

“Oh? I thought he wrote comedies, tragedies, histories, dramas, the whole gamut?” Anastasia asked, rubbing her leg against Thoma’s to see if she could get a reaction. 

“As my teacher once told me, Shakespeare’s plays either end with everyone dead or everyone-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat, looking up at Anastasia. “Anyway, what was it you wanted to see me for?”

“Everyone what?” Anastasia prompted. She grinned when Thoma actually blushed. “Go on, everyone what?”

“Fucking,” Thoma admitted. “Er, on second thought, maybe the play isn’t terribly appropriate for Kollei. It’s, ah, one of the latter varieties.”

That made Anastasia laugh, and she hopped up, satisfied with the rise she’d teased out of Thoma. She held out her hand to him, and he rose, taking it. “I came to get you to escort us to lunch. I want you to take us to Khoroshiy Okhotnik. We could all use a break.”

“Mm, twist my arm, forcing me to take two beautiful girls to lunch,” Thoma laughed and offered his arm to Anastasia. 

She accepted it, then leaned against him, standing on her tiptoes to breathe into his ear. “Kollei might be a little girl still, Foma. But I am a woman.”

That time, she got a most satisfying blush out of him. She giggled, as if to ruin her own point, then leaned on his arm. Now if only she could find an excuse to get Thoma to take her to lunch on her own. 

Lunch at the cafe was as excellent as Anastasia remembered, and Kollei’s table manners were even improving: she and Thoma only had to gently remind the girl twice to not eat like a starving wolf, and she even used the proper spoon for her soup, though she did forget which fork with the salad. 

Thoma was studying a newspaper, which Anastasia considered to be terribly old-fashioned of him. It was endearing, but he was showing his age. Most people these days got their news on the Internet, which was much quicker and more reliable. 

“Any interesting news?” Anastasia asked, leaning in close to Thoma both to see what he was reading and to try to get another reaction out of him. 

“Yes, actually, here,” Thoma said, and held the paper out to her, leaning in slightly to her own embarrassment, but she refused to back down. 

The article in question was actually about the Tsaritsa, which wasn’t much of a surprise. She was all anyone was talking about these days, whether online or in person. The article was a glowing praise of her work rebuilding Mordovia, and there was even mention of Anatoly’s help financing the efforts.

Anastasia beamed at that, turning to Thoma with a grin. “Look, they even mention Tolyan!”

“Indeed, he’s getting the recognition he’s always craved,” Thoma agreed.

“What’s happening?” Kollei said, shoving her own face in, to  Anastasia’s disappointment. “What’s it say? I can read it!”

“It’s a bunch of propaganda by Baba Yaga. Not surprising it’s so eye-catching, though I didn’t expect that witch to switch sides so quickly.”

The mood shifted suddenly, and Anastasia clung to Thoma, her heart racing as he lowered the paper, a red barrier springing up around him and the two girls. Kollei, on the other hand, pulled out a very large knife, and was baring her teeth at the stranger who took a seat at the table uninvited. He was dressed well, in a fine, well-cut coat with a suit and tie underneath, and he had spectacles perked on his nose. He looked like an accountant, but Anastasia was willing to bet he was anything but.

“Grigory Lipovsky. It’s been some time,” Thoma said calmly, setting the paper to the side, but not lowering his barrier. 

“Thoma Rot. It has been a while. I would ask you to introduce me to Anastasia and…Kollei, isn’t it? But you know I would know that,” Grigory said, smiling. He raised a hand, and a waiter approached. “Tea, please. And some onion soup.”

The waiter glanced at the glowing barrier, swallowed, then nodded and hurried away. Anastasia doubted he would be back. 

“Thoma?” Anastasia asked, her heart pounding. 

After a long moment, the barrier dissolved, and Thoma smiled. “It’s fine, Miss Anastasia. Put the knife away, Kollei. This is Grigory Lipovsky, of the Red Gauntlet. You might know him as The Secretary.”

Anastasia swallowed, then slowly pulled her chair closer, then sat practically in Thoma’s lap. She had heard of the Secretary. He was the number two man in the Red Gauntlet and a powerful Thinker. She didn’t fully know what all his powers were, but he was said to be capable of reading minds, or at least close enough to it.

“No, I’m not a telepath,” Grigory said with a small smile. “My power is much more limited. Human minds are too messy to read easily anyway. Besides, I’m not here to fight. I’m not the man Vasili sends to do that. He’d send Ruvim or Agata for that. Or come himself. I’m just here to talk with an old acquaintance.”

“He’s a combat thinker. Reads bodies, not minds. Though he prefers to use his powers to gather information and sweet-talk people than he does exchange blows. Don’t play poker with him,” Thoma said quietly to Anastasia and Kollei, who still had not put away her knife. Then he turned to Grigory. “Your information is out of date for once.”

“Oh?” that seemed to take Grigory aback, enough that he leaned back to regard Thoma through his glasses. Then he smiled. “Ah. Something about you? Did you get a Vision too? No, I would have noticed.”

“It’s Thoma Krasnov now,” Thoma told him. “She changed my name.”

That did surprise Grigory, who blinked and shook his head. “I…see. She can do that, hmm? Of course she can, she’s an Archon. And you think…you think she’s a god.”

“She is a god! She saved me, and she’s going to save all of Russia!” Kollei said vehemently, jabbing towards Grigory with her knife.

“Kollei, put that away. It’s useless against him anyway,” Thoma told her. 

“Let the girl have her security blanket. Though it might delay my lunch,” Grigory said with a sigh.

Kollei glared first at Grigory, then Thoma, but put the knife in her jacket with a dark mutter of something that made the tips of Anastasia’s ears burn. Even if she did agree with the sentiment. 

“Now, Grigory. What do you wish to talk about?” Thoma said, taking Anastasia’s hand under the table and squeezing it reassuringly. She felt much safer with him here, though she was still frightened. This world of gods and monsters…it was not fit for a normal girl like her. 

“Come, Thoma. You are a man of intelligence. Your gift might not be a cognitive one, but you are no fool,” Grigory said with a smile, tapping a finger on the table. 

“This is about the Tsaritsa. And my brother,” Anastasia said, swallowing. “He’s done business with the Red Gauntlet before. That’s how you know Thoma.”

Grigory inclined his head to Anastasia. “Indeed. I see you are as wise as you are beautiful, Miss Karimosova. I am here to discuss this Tsaritsa. She seems to fancy herself ruler of Russia. The Red Gauntlet wishes to know more.”

“You’re not a fool, Grigory. Tell me, is she an Archon?” Thoma demanded with a snort of disgust.

Grigory shrugged. “My power does not let me discern truth, I learned that long ago. I can tell you believe it to be true, but alas, what men believe to be true is often not the same as what is actually true.”

“Then what do you believe to be true?” Anastasia demanded, unable to remain silent. 

“Ah.” Grigory titled his head back, then nodded thoughtfully. “A fair question. I suppose I must believe she is an Archon, though I do not entirely understand what they are. Let us say for now, she is a supremely powerful being, such that I find it likely she could slay an Endbringer. She battled Scion to a standstill, no? Why did she do that, anyway? He is Earth Bet’s second greatest hero.”

“Second Greatest? Then you acknowledge the Tsaritsa as the greatest?” Kollei asked eagerly.

That made Grigory chuckle. “Ah, no, child. Perhaps, one day, I will see that. But the greatest hero of Earth Bet is the one they call Nahida Saeed.”

“My mother is stronger than her!” Kollei bristled, but Thoma grimaced.

“He makes a fair point, at least for now. There is famine in the warmer regions of the world, not just because of the global blizzard, but because of forces like Ash Beast and the Endbringers. Not only did Little Lord Kusinali defeat the Simurgh with not a single life lost, but she freed the people of Iraq and is feeding a significant portion of the world.”

“You see, heroism is not merely combat strength. Were that the case, I might acknowledge the Endslayer of Nagasaki as the world’s greatest hero. For only the Angel of Munich has a claim to that particular feat alongside her, which while some may doubt, I do not,” Grigory said with a nod. “No offense to the Tsaritsa: she seems mighty. But she brought a global winter, and that concerns me. What is it she intends for Russia?”

“To make it so we’re no longer sick, and hungry, and weak,” Kollei said, making a fist. “To make it so that we’re no longer ignorant, and afraid. To make us strong. So that we no longer need fear ever again.”

“Hmm.” Grigory rubbed his chin, then brightened. He leaned back as a pale faced waiter hastily set out his soup and tea, then asked if anyone needed anything else.

“Dessert for my friends. Some of your cake, I think. The bill is on me,” Grigory said, smiling at Kollei. 

She had to wipe away a little drool at the mention of cake, and hastily nodded. “Yes, please.”

The waiter scurried off again, and Grigory took a few sips of tea and spoonfuls of soup in silence. He sighed, and nodded. “Excellent. You always did have good taste, Thoma.”

“It was Miss Anastasia’s idea,” Thoma said, nodding to her. “My tastes are simple, you know that.”

“If you say so. Well. I have talked enough business, I think. Let us enjoy the food,” Grigory said, as cakes were hastily brought out and placed before them. “Please, enjoy.”

The cake was good, but Anastasia found she had no appetite. Thoma didn’t even touch his, and they both ended up giving their pieces to Kollei, who eagerly devoured all the food. Anastasia feared the girl would end up fat, but she’d been so woefully underweight when Anatoly had brought her from Moscow that it would be some months yet before that was a real danger. 

Grigory made small talk, and Anastasia replied automatically, gossiping about various bits of news, and laughing at Thoma’s jokes. When Grigory was finished, he paid their bill, then stood. 

“You have given me much to think on. I will tell Vasili. He will come to a decision,” Grigory said, standing at the same time as Thoma, and offering his hand. 

“I hope he comes to a wise one. I’d hate to have to bury you. If the Tsaritsa left enough for that,” Thoma said with a laugh. Grigory laughed as well, but Anastasia didn’t need powers to see the tension in either man, or that their little joke was a little too deadly serious. She clung to Thoma’s arm tightly, forcing a smile on her face. 

“Ah, a word of advice, though?” Grigory said as they turned to leave. He leaned in close, lowering his voice so Kollei wouldn’t overhear. “When one sleeps with the boss's sister, it is wise to either get his blessing or dispose of him first. I see that you haven’t yet, but Anatoly always was a touchy one. I’d get that sorted out. I hear he’s a Vision holder now. It would make things interesting.”

Thoma stiffened. “I am a man of honor, Vasili. Do not be crude.” 

“If you were a man of honor, you wouldn’t be in this business,” Vasili said with a chuckle, then nodded to them and left. 

Anastasia found she had tears in her eyes, and was holding her breath. For a moment, she couldn’t see, then she felt a warm arm slip around her even as she clung to Thoma.

“It’s OK, I thought he was scary too. But Uncle Thoma kept us safe,” Kollei said. “Besides, I had my knife.”

Blinking, Anastasia made herself nod. “Yes, he did. Like a brave knight.”

That afternoon and into the evening, Anastasia threw herself into practice, working herself until she was sore and her toes were bleeding. She nearly collapsed, but made herself clean up and walked gingerly to her room. She dressed in one of her thinnest nightgowns despite the cold, then put a robe over it, and strode with confidence despite her bleeding feet to Thoma’s room. 

He was reading at his bedside, but stood when she entered. “Nastya, I-”

“You wouldn’t kill Anatoly, would you? Even for me?” she asked, slowly removing the robe and dropping it to the ground. She did her best to sashay over to Thoma, standing up on her tiptoes and reaching up to put her arms around his waist. However, he gently pushed her back, resting his hands on her shoulders. 

“Anastasia…”

“What? I told you, I am not a little girl anymore. I’ve seen how you look at me. For years now,” she said testily, her eyes meeting his.

He blushed but nodded. “I…I have long found you attractive. But I did not lie to Grigory.”

“He said you should tell Anatoly or dispose of him. Well to hell with him, I say. I am a grown woman, and you a man! We can do what we-”

“Nastya.” Thoma gently cupped Anastasia’s chin, and she felt hot tears on her cheek. He brushed them aside, then gently kissed her on the lips. She tried to lean in for more, but he pulled away. “I will not betray your brother’s trust. I am a man of honor. In my own way. And I am loyal to Tolny. He saved me from…well. From myself. And as much as I love you, I love him as a brother. Surely you don’t want to betray him either.”

Anastasia felt her throat swelling up, and she jerked a nod. “I’m scared,” she whispered. 

Thoma pulled her into a hug, and Anastasia buried her face in his chest. He smelled of sweat, but also of sandalwood and basil. It was a good, manly smell. It made her feel safe. Especially with Tolny gone.

“I will speak with your brother. We both will. But when he returns. Until then…I will be your faithful retainer. But no more.”

Biting her lip, Anastasia forced herself to nod, unable to meet Thoma’s eyes. “You must think me shameful.”

“I think you beautiful. Were I a weaker man…it would have been me in your room tonight.”

She looked up at him, feeling her heart flutter again. He smiled, and relief washed over her. “Then, will you…?”

He shook his head, picking up her robe, and putting it back on her shoulders. He squeezed, but gently guided her towards the door. “Soon, I hope, Nastya. My love. But not tonight.”

Oddly enough, he guided her back through the halls, not to her own room, but to Kollei’s. “Don’t try to sleep alone tonight. Kollei is stronger than she looks. She can help you. Perhaps not in the way you hoped, but it is better than being alone.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Anastasia agreed. She pulled her robe tighter about her and turned to go, only for Thoma to grab her by the shoulders and turn her back towards him. Her heart fluttered in her chest for a moment as he leaned down, then put his arms about her and kissed her firmly on the lips. By the time she fully realized what was happening, it was over. 

Thoma bowed to her, backing away. “Goodnight, my lady.”

Hugging herself, Anastasia opened the door to Kollei’s room. The younger girl was delighted to see her, and eagerly snuggled up. That night, Anastasia insisted on reading a love story, the Frog Princess. She smiled to herself at the story of Ivan Tsarevich and his enchanted bride, Vasilisa the Beautiful. Kollei seemed to prefer the part with the battle with Koschei the Deathless, especially how the forest animals helped. 

“Do you think the Tsaritsa could beat Koschei?” Kollei asked tiredly once the lights were out.

“Of course,” Anastasia agreed, snuggling up under the warm covers. Even in the house, the night was terribly cold, and sharing a bed was far from the worst idea. 

“Good. Then she can beat Scion too,” Kollei mumbled, then fell asleep.

Are we the little forest animals then? Anastasia’s tired mind though. Surely not. The Tsarita loved them. They weren’t just simple beasts to her. 

This Goddess Must Be Crazy, Chapter 56

Kazuma considered himself something of a badass. Not only had he saved two, possibly three worlds now, he’d just helped to take out the Lord of the Tomb (mostly by being Aqua’s handler) and saved the multiverse. He was confident that if this were an internet battle board argument, he would scale to universal feats thanks to his actions, which meant he could totally take Superman, who would definitely lose to Goku, so there. 

That was why it was so important that he not squee like a fangirl upon seeing King Kai and Haruhi Suzumiya. All of his favorite anime coming to life? Sheesh, why couldn’t he have had Haruhi as his goddess instead of Aqua?

On second thought, never mind. That sounded like a terrible idea. He had one exhausting hyperactive idiot goddess already, he didn’t need another one. 

“Hey, I’m the only one who gets to bully Aqua,” Kazuma said, putting himself between her and the other two gods. “And she just did real good, so before you go yelling at her again-”

“We’re not here to bully Aqua,” Haruhi interrupted him. “Well, this time. She did well! If anything, we’re here to help!” 

“It would have been better if one of you mortals had defeated Suzuki Satoru, but we can probably salvage this situation,” King Kai agreed. “Just relax, she did good.”

“You’re the ones that put her up to this, aren’t you?!” the pathetic sack of shit that had been the Lord of the Tomb said. Kazuma had about zero pity for him, and was more than ready to kill him. A lot of people Kazuma loved were dead because of him, especially Komekko and the rest of the Crimson Demons. “The King in Crimson warned me that the gods themselves would seek to punish me and take away my kingdom!”

“Oh did he now?” King Kai said, walking over to the man formerly known as Ainz and peering down at him over his black glasses. “So, Alucard put you up to this?”

Before Momonga or whatever his name was could respond, a chill ran down Kazuma’s spine as the shadows in the room lengthened. Haruhi pulled a star wand that looked straight out of Kirby out of nowhere while Aqua stepped in front of Kazuma and flung out her arms. 

“Now now, you old cricket. That is my subject, not yours. Kindly step away from him,” a deep, silky smooth voice said as a goddamn vampire stepped out of the shadows. He bared his fangs in a menacing smile. “Unless you want things to get… ungentlemanly.”

“He invaded my world, and Comedy’s. He’s ours to deal with,” King Kai said mildly, staring up at the Vampire with a neutral expression, though his antennae were twitching. 

The grin on the vampire’s face slowly widened, and Kazuma couldn’t help but think of some of the more disturbing horror manga he’d read. “My, my. Is that a declaration of war? Because if it had been mortals fighting mortals, well, that’s one thing. But a god coming to bully one of my subjects? Tsk, tsk. Such things simply aren’t done,” Alucard, because of course it was freaking Dracula, said. 

“It’s over, Alucard. Your plan has-” Haruhi began, but he cut her off. 

“Over? It’s just beginning, little girl! This is the act of war I have been waiting for! The comedy division will be erased, by the full might of all the horrors I command. And no one is coming to save you!” Alucard snarled. 

King Kai set his jaw. “Not this time.”

“Then I get what I wanted regardless, and heaven falls in blood,” Alucard purred. “Come on, old cricket. Just one punch. You know you want to hit me.” 

Just then, Kazuma noticed Tanya coming out of the treasure room, holding a long object in her hands. By her expression, she was ready to do a little murder herself. And something told Kazuma that if he didn’t act fast, everyone’s luck was about to run out. 

Panting and exhausted, All For One stood beside Aura and Mare, along with all their various minions. Half of Tokyo lay in ruins now, and he was desperately trying to raise more dead. Except that blasted witch was still interfering with his spells! She had excellent command of necromancy, but instead of using it to call forth undead minions, she was putting souls to rest in such a way that All For One couldn’t hope to create the army of zombies he needed to overrun the heroes and end this charade. 

“This place is tougher than we thought,” Aura said, wiping her thumb across her mouth and smearing blood across her face as she grinned. “We haven’t had to do a full invasion like this since…since…”

“S-since Belzerg,” Mare said, clutching his staff tightly. “Sis, I don’t have a good feeling about this. We’ve thrown everything we can at them, and they're still coming. Maybe we should get backup…”

“And tell Lord Ainz we failed? Not in a million years!” Mare laughed. “We’ll crush these fools and bring their heads back as trophies!”

“Um, well, don’t be mad, but…I already requested reinforcements…” Mare admitted. 

“Ugh, seriously? Fiiiiiine. But Shaltear better not come and steal all my glory! She’s so smug when she does that,” Bella complained. 

All For One let the children argue. He knew he could still win this fight. All Might was bloodied and bruised, and he wasn’t quite as strong as he had been at his peak. Many of the heroes were badly hurt and out of the fight, and while Japan was rallying, plenty of other places on the globe were suffering from the attacks by Nazerick’s forces. They just needed one final push.

“You, lich. Go out there and buy us some time,” Aura ordered. “Even I can’t trade blows with that blond muscle man all day. Worse than sparring with Cocytus when he’s not holding back…”

At last. This was his chance. All For One would finally get to deliver his speech. He stepped forward, using several quirks to raise his voice over the battlefield in addition to a voice amplification cantrip. He was running low on mana, but now was not the time to skimp on showmanship. That was what separated the true villains from the simple criminals. 

“Heir of One For All, you stand now as the precipice of history!” All For One boomed, stepping forward and spreading his skeletal arms wide. “Do you not see how futile your quest has been? You give endlessly of yourself, but no man, no matter how strong, can be the foundation of society! In the end, humans are but selfish creatures, and-”

A massive glowing portal opened on the battlefield, and Mare sighed in relief. 

All For One gritted his teeth and kept going. He was going to give this speech if it killed him. 

Or even as everyone else died. What was the point in conquering the world if no one knew it was your master plan that led to it?

Faced with an impossible situation, Kazuma knew that Alucard was moments away from declaring some sort of multiversal war and turning this victory into the start of an even worse saga. So he did what he always did: Make things up and run his mouth to people he had no business doing so. 

“Hey, you back off of Aqua too! She might be a god, but really, she works for me! She’s my cheat item, and if you have any complaints, they come to me, pal!” Kazuma said, swaggering right up to Alucard and glaring up at him. 

The Vampire glanced down at Kazuma and frowned. “A pathetic and faulty argument. If you truly had a goddess under your command, you’d be a god yourself. And I happen to know that you spent quite a bit of time in Comedy’s Divine Judgement division, which makes you a divine agent at best and at worst a fellow god. Which if anything, makes the crime against my Division worse.”

“And what Division is that, bad fashion sense?” Kazuma huffed. “All red? What are you, a tacky Trigun cosplayer?” 

Alucard chuckled. “Normally I’d admire your grit, but I’m afraid that my long laid plans are finally coming to fruition. I’m going to bring this entire rotten world down, boy, that mankind might truly be free. When I’m done, there will be no more gods, no more cheat items, and no more pointless petty bureaucratic bickering!”

“I couldn’t agree more with your first point, but bureaucracy is the foundation of human achievement, so I am afraid I must file a formal complaint.”

Alucard started to turn, which was when Tanya, who was now right behind him, thrust the spear she was carrying right into his chest. “Longinus, Activate! Mutual deletion protocol!” 

Alucard’s eyes went wide as he whirled on Tanya, who was grinning at him triumphantly. “What?! You, who hate the gods the most would…would…”

“Longinus,” Momonga whispered, awestruck. “A World-Class item. It has the power to delete anything from existence. But it costs you your own.”

“I am the Godslayer,” Tanya agreed, even as she and Alucard both began to dissolve into white nothingness at the edges, as if reality itself was erasing them. “But I have come to understand. You are the god who runs my division, aren’t you? Not Being X. You’re the one I wished to slay all along. Now, Visha can be safe.”

Alucard started to snarl, but then his face relaxed, and he chuckled, holding up a hand that was vanishing to nothingness. “Well. I suppose if I had to be stopped, being taken out by an ordinary mortal isn’t such a bad ending. Ah, Anderson, why couldn’t you understand?”

“Take care of Visha, Aqua,” Tanya said faintly, sagging to her knees as her body faded. “In the end…it was I who abandoned…her…”

Alucard tilted his head back, eyes closed, spreading his arms wide in a crucifixion pose. What a drama queen. Kazuma was sorry about Tanya and all, but at least she was good for something. “I guess, in the end, you weren’t so bad, Tanya the Evil.”

“Divine Resurrection!” Aqua screamed, grabbing onto Tanya and yanking at her just as she was about to completely vanish along with Alucard. To Kazuma’s complete disgust, the process instantly reversed on her, causing Tanya to jerk in shock.

“What are you doing!? If I stay, he stays!” Tanya snarled, shoving Aqua away. “You can’t just-”

“Well, that does solve our problems,” King Kai said, stepping forward. There was a throbbing dark red heart there on the floor, dripping blood and pierced by a black nail. “The God of Horror was erased by his own minion. But that does leave the matter of his position being unfilled.”

Haruhi nodded. “Which means that even if erased, his mantle will just pass to some other monster. Potentially an even worse one.”

“We could bring him back as well,” King Kai said, nodding to the heart. “He’ll linger for a while.”

“You idiots! I was willing to erase myself from reality to kill the Man in Red!” Tanya raged. “I didn’t think he’d simply deliver himself to me gift-wrapped, but he was the one behind all of this!” 

“We know,” Haruhi said. “But alas, there must always be a Horror Division. If only we had someone gifted in bureaucratic organization who could contain the worst elements of that division.”

“Hold the fuck on, what even just happened? Who was that red clown?” Bakugo demanded, glaring around the room. 

“I’m not sure, but I think Tanya just accidentallied a peace?” Izuku said, putting a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “Just hold on for a moment.”

Tanya, on the other hand, was looking back and forth between Haruhi and King Kai, a look of dawning disbelief and disgust on her face. “You cannot be serious! I wanted to erase myself and him! I’m the Godslayer! The Devil of the Rhine! If I had my way, there would be no more gods! Not even Aqua! Though she is by far the most tolerable, even if she is a moron.”

“Hey! I just brought you back to life, I’m not a moron!” Aqua huffed.

“Considering I was in the process of erasing the biggest threat to all of reality at the cost of myself, I think, perhaps, you’d have been better off not meddling,” Tanya snapped. 

“The mantle really will pass to someone else,” Haruhi said, nodding to the throbbing heart. “Can you imagine if someone like Kyubey got ahold of it?”

Kazuma felt a ball of dread form in his stomach, and he reached out, putting a hand on Tanya’s shoulder. “Uh, Tanya, I hate to say this, but, uh, maybe you should consider a career as a goddess.”

Tanya turned to glare at him. “What, and I suppose you know of this Kyubey?”

“If it’s anything like the little monster in PMMM, then we’re talking like, turning little girls into monsters to power the end of the world,” Kazuma told her. 

“You are simply making that up,” Tanya said in disgust.

“No, he’s exactly right,” King Kai said with a shake of his head. “The Incubators would be even more powerful than Alucard, and their version of Horror far more insidious.”

“I do not even fully understand what you are asking of me!” Tanya raged. “What would you have me do!? Become a god myself!? I am the last person who should! I have proven myself a monster, time and again!”

“And you’d need to be, to be put in charge of all the monsters that are locked up in Horror,” Haruhi told her. “And before you ask, no. You can’t just erase them all. Horror is a part of the human experience. It’s the primal fear of something out in the night, coming to get you. The existential dread of looking up at the sky, and being small in a vast universe. And the gleeful gory violence that lurks in the dark parts of our souls. I exist because people need to laugh. Horror exists because people need to scream.”

“Man, fuck horror, those movies are garbage,” Bakugo grumbled. 

“You just say that because you made me stay up late with you that one time when we were kids, but you were the one who had nightmares for months afterward,” Izuku told him, and Bakugo turned bright red, but didn’t deny it. 

King Kai put his hand on Tanya’s shoulder. “It has to be someone. At least you’d see to it that the rules would be followed. And that the monsters stay in their cages.”

“Besides, rules are rules,” Haruhi said with a shrug. “You kill it, you bought it.”

Tanya looked ready to do some more murder, but squared her shoulders. Muttering under her breath, she reached up, grasping the bloody heart. 

As she did so, there was a burst of darkness and the taste of blood in Kazuma’s mouth, as Alucard’s laugh echoed in his mind. He fell to his knees, clutching at his head and trembling as fear gripped his heart and froze his breath. He thought he was going to die, until Aqua wrapped her arms about him. 

“It’s OK. No matter how scary it is, I’m still here. We’ll laugh about this together later. You know that, right?” she asked tenderly. 

He could only nod and cling to her.

At last, the darkness cleared, and Kazuma looked up. He expected to see a monster, but instead, Tanya was standing there, looking down at her hands, a puzzled expression on her face. 

“That’s it? I’ve been through worse artillery bombardments. That’s your so-called horror? Blood, a dead idiot laughing, and darkness? Please, I put my own recruits through worse.”

“Most people use Horror as a way to escape from grim reality. You went through horror far worse than what most consider good escapism. Keep it scary, but fun, you know?” Haruhi said, winking at Tanya.

The diminutive woman gave Haruhi a flat stare, then looked absently at Momonga, who was glaring back at her. A slow grin spread over Tanya’s face. “Well, I can feel the power at least. And I think I know what the first horrifying tale I shall spin will be.”

“Just kill me and get it over with,” Momonga spat, glaring at her. “If our positions were reversed, I’d at least give you a clean death.”

“Death requires too much paperwork, at least by the system I plan to institute. And it’s terribly dull. A scream, some blood, it’s over. Hardly horrifying,” Tanya said, putting her hands behind her back and standing up straight. She was dressed now in what looked suspiciously like a Hugo Boss uniform to Kazuma. That did explain a great deal about her. 

“I think it’s time for you all to learn what true Horror is,” Tanya cackled. 

The portal opened fully, All For One opened his mouth to continue his speech. 

“EXPLOSION!” 

The blast sent All For One cartwheeling through the air. It wasn’t as strong as the Explosions that manic little mage had been unleashing at UA, but he could recognize the sparkles. Just what on earth was happening?

“You fools, attack them, not-” All For One began, but then a line of armored knights with blue banners with a seven spoked wheel on them charged through. 

“FOR LADY AQUA!” they cried, and a lance took All For One right in the chest. It burned, and he realized it had to be infused with magic by how it glowed. More knights and mages appeared, rushing through the portal in a seemingly endless wave. 

“FOR KING CHARLES!” some of the knights cried, which was even more confusing since they sounded like they were speaking French. 

Others cried out in odd German, “FOR KONIGREICH AND KAISER!” 

All of them were fighting under that seven-spoked banner, however, and it disgusted All For One. He tore apart the knights near him, then retreated back to Aura and Mare, who were fighting fiercely. 

“Where did these knights come from!” All For One demanded. 

“It’s that damn worthless planet that Sebas and the Pleiades were supposed to take out!” Aura snapped. “Where all of this mess started! Now they’re sending in reinforcements! We’ve got to call for-”

“VALHALLA GATE!” 

A nightmarish gate opened beside Aura, with a grinning statue reaching out to pull her into it.

“No!” she dodged away at the last second, as a tall, dark haired man with a sword appeared. 

“You’ve run from me long enough.” the man said. “It’s time to end this, Mare Belle Fiora.”

“Seiya! Finally showing your face only when victory is certain, I might have known,” Mare spat.

“I have a bit of a cautious streak. But it’s time to end this once and for all,” the man said, and attacked Aura with a flurry of sword blows. 

All For One didn’t stick around to see what would happen. It seemed that things were going south. Well, he would regroup. He was immortal now, and restored to more than full power. He prepared to retreat, only for a familiar sound to interrupt him. 

“DETROIT SMASH!” 

The blow took All For One square in the solar plexus and blew him across the battlefield to slam into a building that rapidly crumbled atop him. He blasted himself free in a fit of pique, rising up to find his nemesis advancing on him.. 

“Well, at last, we have our final duel, Bearer of my Brother’s Power. Now we…wait! What is she doing here!? This is supposed to be our fight!”

“That’s the difference between you and me, All For One,” All Might told him as Wiz advanced at his side. “Heroes don’t have to fight alone. We may stand alone against evil, but in the end, I’ll happily share my power and glory, because my true mission is justice. I am no longer just One Man For All.”

“But a man and a woman together!” Wiz agreed. 

As they attacked him, All For One reflected that this was easily his worst day ever. Even more so than his previous defeat at All Might’s hands. At least they’d had time for dramatic speeches during that one. 

And he had a feeling he wouldn’t be surviving this one. 

He had been so close. So close to ending the only threat to his kingdom. He could have ruled over Nazarick forever, as the benevolent sorcerer king. Yes, he’d had to kill a few people along the way, but he’d made their lives better. A few humans had to be given over as cattle for Demiurge’s experiments, but it was all his fault anyway. Ainz would have let the humans live, save for the ones who defied him. 

Now he wasn’t even Ainz anymore. He glared at over at Demiurge, who was kneeling beside him, mystic chains wrapped around him.

“This, this is according to your plan, isn’t it, my lord? You’re just pretending to be human,” Demiurge whispered. “The great Ainz Ooal Gown would never-”

“Oh shut up. I never understood your plans anyway,” Momonga told Demiurge bitterly. “I just always agreed with what you said my plan was. I could never figure out how you came up with that stuff.”

Demiurge blinked at him, his tail twitching in irritation. On Momonga’s other side, Albedo was weeping. “I, I still love you, Lord Ainz! I will make an opening, and you can escape! Even if I should I die, I will always serve you!”

“Only because I made you. I altered your mind to love me. It was fun at first, but it got annoying, especially when I couldn’t even enjoy your attentions because liches can’t have sex!” Momonga spat. All his human emotions were returning after hundreds of years suppressed, and what bubbled out was the petty spite, pride, and bitterness. It was all so frustrating. Why couldn’t Tanya kill them and be done with it?

“Healthy communication is important in the workplace,” Tanya said. She had several menus open and was scrolling through them. They were similar to what Ainz used to modify Nazerick and the NPCs back when YGGDRASIL had only been a game. What was she even doing?

“You…you were just a human the entire time?!” Demiurge asked in disbelief. “Impossible, I would never-”

“Of course he was once a human! Where do you think undead come from?” Albedo demanded. “Keep your tongue in check, Demiurge. He is still Lord-...Lord…”

“There. Your compulsion has been removed. Both of you,” Tanya said, nodding. “No more slavish loyalty. I have to applaud you, Momonga, or whatever you wish to be called now. If I could have made my own subordinates this loyal back when I was a salaryman, I would never have had so many problems as the HR manager.”

So that was her plan. Loyalty compulsion removed, and now his own subordinates would tear him apart. He’d always known this day would come. It was something he’d always been in fear of: That either his guildmates would come back and reclaim his minion’s loyalty, or someone else would figure out what he’d done and undermine him. 

“I…I still,” Albedo said, but her expression was twisting into something unbelieving. 

“A filthy human! Disguised as a lich! I should have known,” Demiurge spat. “You were clever, but a fool! I will find a way to-”

“And, there. Race change complete,” Tanya said. For a moment, Momonga’s heart skipped a beat, and he thought he’d been made a lich again. Only for his heart to go right on beating. He looked to his right, then his left, and blinked. Albedo and Demiurge were gone. In their place were a buxom, dark-haired, but ultimately very human woman, and a wiry, sour-faced man in glasses. 

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?” Demiurge raged, straining against his bonds. “WHAT SORCERY IS THIS!? KILL ME, BUT DO NOT INSULT ME!” 

“I was in favor of just killing them, but this is poetic,” one of the intruders, that disgusting boy Sato said. “Nice. Now what, Tanya?”

“Now?” Tanya grinned, and it was so unpleasant Ainz flinched, even with all that had been done to him. “Now they go home. Farewell, Suzuki Satoru. Enjoy the horror story that will now unfold.”

Before Momonga could figure out what that meant, Nazerick vanished. And a familiar weight was felt on his body.

“No, no, no!” gasping, he sat up, ripping off the headset and looking at it in horror. “No!” 

He stood, stumbling to the window. He peered out at the bleak cityscape, then spun back to the bare room. “NO!” 

But he was not alone. The beautiful woman from before was getting up from the floor by his chair, while the wirey man was crouching, his expression full of venom.

“We…we are alive?” the woman asked, her voice tremulous. She turned to Momonga, and tears filled her eyes. “Lord…Lord Ainz?”

“Don’t call me that!” he snarled, jerking away from her. “Stay away!”

“Now, now, Albedo,” the man hissed, slowly stalking towards Momonga. “That’s not Lord Ainz. That’s just a pathetic human. I’ll ride us of him and we can-”

“NO!” the woman, Albedo? Flung herself between Momonga and the man who had to be Demiurge. “I finally have a chance to consummate my love with my Lord! You should still be loyal, Demiurge! We have survived the fall of Nazarick, and together, we can rebuild our Lord’s glorious empire as we-”

Demiurge slapped Albedo across the face, staggering her. “Don’t be a fool! He was forcing us to be loyal! But with that removed, we can have our revenge! You don’t have to live out that sick human’s twisted fantasy!”

In response, Albedo balled up a fist and drove it into Demiurge’s stomach, causing him to sink to his knees. “My love for Lord Ainz is real! Not just because I was mind controlled! This is all a part of his plan, I know it!” 

She turned towards Momonga, her expression pleading. “You…you will save us, Lord Ainz? B-but even if you don’t, I will still love you! Even if I have to be a filthy human to do it!”

Momonga could only gaze on in horror as Demiurge stared daggers at him from where he crouched, clutching his bruised ribs. No. Death was better than this. He was trapped, trapped in the living nightmare of his old world!

He sank to his knees, clutching at his head, as Albedo wrapped him in her arms. 

“Shh, shh. I’m here for you, Lord Ainz. Always. I’m your Albedo…”

She would kill him. Or Demiurge would. That might be a mercy. There had to be a way out. Suicide? No. No, that would give Tanya what she wanted, the bitch. He had to survive. Had to find a way to survive with Demiurge out to kill him, and Albedo biding her time to drive a knife into his back. 

“It is Horror,” he whispered. “Damn you, Tanya. This is Horror.”

There was no way to know if the man who had once been called the Lord of the Tomb and his former minions would live long on this sick and dying capitalist hellscape of a world, but one thing was certain: It was a Horror that was nearly as bad as they deserved. 

The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 9

Comoedia Glacialis 9: The Queen proffers the Forbidden Fruit

For the next three weeks, the Tsaritsa remained in Mordovia, restoring and rebuilding the city. Her first act was to repave all the roads herself, which involved an astonishing display of power. She had Anatoly spread the word throughout the city that she would make an announcement, which he had done using Yelizaveta’s contact network. A crowd of several thousand civilians had gathered, along with most of the city’s capes, most of them members of the Red Gauntlet, who had looked on dubiously from the sidelines. 

“Who are those mercenaries?” the Tsaritsa had asked Anatoly shortly before taking the stage. 

“Red Gauntlet. They’re the most powerful group in Russia, though they operate outside of our borders too. They sell their services to the highest bidder, and they effectively rule most of the country,” Anatoly told her. 

The Tsaritsa’s eyes narrowed, and Anatoly noted that she set her jaw for a moment before she spoke. “Then they shall bend the knee, or perish. I will not suffer mercenaries operating upon my soil.”

“Rukavitsa has a reputation as a reasonable man,” Anatoly told her. “I could set up a meeting with him in all likelihood, though he is currently in Novosibirsk.”

“That’s old information I’m afraid, cutie,” Yelizaveta said, causing Anatoly to frown at her in annoyance as she stepped through the door to the rear of the makeshift stage they’d erected. He hated being corrected. “He left last night and arrived in Nizhny Novgorod early this morning. He’s interested in you, sweetie.”

That last one was directed at the Tsaritsa, who eyed Yelizaveta with interest. “You have not introduced me to this lady, Thief.”

Hiding his irritation, Anatoly grinned broadly and gestured. “Allow me to introduce the woman I have told you of, Yelizaveta Mirova. She has helped organize this event, and provided me with much of the intelligence I have passed along to you.”

“You can just call me the Witch like everyone else,” Yelizaveta chuckled. She reached into her purse and pulled out a candied apple of all things wrapped in plastic. “Apple? Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned this time.”

The Tsaritsa accepted the apple with a smile of amusement, holding it up in the palm of her hand. She spun it on the stick, nodding to herself. “Every fairy tale should have a Witch, don’t you think?”

“All the best stories do,” Yelizaveta agreed, though she arched an eyebrow. 

“You wonder why I cast you as the villain?” the Tsaritsa asked, handing the apple to Anatoly, who frowned at it. This was the sort of cheap sweet that was best discarded. 

“I’m a woman in power, sweetie. I’ve always been cast as the villain,” Yelizaveta said with a shrug. 

“How true. And if that is the part the world is determined you play, why not do so with style?” the Tsaritsa asked. Then, she turned to the curtain, and with a wave of her hand, flung it aside,  stepping out onto the stage. 

It was a simple affair made of wood and freshly painted, but the Tsaritsa strode out as the crowd cheered for her. Word had spread that she was the one who had tamed the Sleeper, and that she was to announce her next project today. As she swept out onto the stage, frost spread out, and from it grew a set of sparkling icy buildings, and several crystalline trees that looked almost like growing snowflakes.

The crowd gasped in awe, and quite a few applauded, but the Tsaritsa raised a hand for silence, and it quietly fell. The crowd seemed to be holding its breath, the air holding an electric charge as they all waited to hear the Tsaritsa’s words. 

“My beloved people,” the Tsaritsa said, her voice clear and ringing without amplification, yet somehow soft and breathy still. “Long have you suffered, your Motherland rocked by war, famine, and plague. Fear not: I have come to bring you comfort and peace. I shall restore this land, starting here, in Mordovia, to the greatness that Russia once had. And as a token of my goodwill, I give you the Sleeper.”

At a signal from the Tsaritsa, a shimmering bubble suddenly appeared from the left of the stage, rising up and swelling in size as it floated up towards the Tsaritsa. There were a few screams, and the crowd was on the verge of panic, but the Tsaritsa’s voice suddenly whispered in everyone’s heart. 

DID I NOT TELL YOU TO FEAR NOT? THIS WAS BUT A DREAM, A NIGHTMARE, AND THE TIME HAS COME FOR YOU TO AWAKEN, MY CHILDREN. 

The bubble stopped growing in size, though it was now nearly 20 meters in diameter. The Tsaritsa approached it with a gliding step, then reached out with a single hand, one finger extended. As soon as her finger touched the bubble, it popped as though it had been made of soap. In its place, The Sleeper appeared in his chiseled form. He fell to both knees before the Tsaritsa, arms spread low and wide. 

“My Beloved Queen! You have saved me, awoken me! I am the Sleeper no more!” he cried, his deep baritone full of melodramatic passion. 

Gently, the Tsaritsa bent and kissed the Sleeper’s forehead. “Arise, my Prince. Arise, and reclaim the Motherland in my name.”

The Prince sprang to his feet. “At once, my lady! Show me what beast to slay or what army to fight, and they shall be laid low at once!” 

“Interesting. It’s like a little play,” Yelizaveta commented, leaning in close to Anatoly. “This will make a wonderful copy.”

“You’re recording this?” Anatoly asked, surprised. He hadn’t requested any cameras. 

Yelizaveta chuckled again and patted Anatoly’s arm. “Of course I am, cutie. You said you wanted someone to gather information and spread propaganda, didn’t you? What sort of Witch would I be if I wasn’t casting my magic spell even now? “

Out on stage, the drama continued to unfold, and Anatoly saw that the crowd was utterly enraptured. Was this all it took to entertain the masses? 

“The first decree I will make is this: no longer will my people walk upon a poor road in their own land. I will make straight ,your paths,” the Tsaritsa decreed. 

The people cheered again at that, but they seemed confused, at least until the Tsaritsa spread great wings of ice, and floated up into the air like an icy fairy. 

NO LONGER WILL MY REALM FALL INTO DISREPAIR, the Tsaritsa’s voice boomed, no longer soft and warm, but biting and cold as winter’s heart. WALK NOW UPON THE PATH I MAKE FOR YOU, AND YOU SHALL KNOW MY LOVING EMBRACE.

The Tsaritsa extended both her hands, and from the stage, a thin layer of ice began to flow along the ground. Some people tried to jump out of the way and a few screamed in fright, but they quickly quieted as the ice did them no harm. Instead, it spread along every path and road in the city, paving them over smoothly. When Anatoly inspected the “ice” later, he found that it was not slick like typical ice and was textured enough to easily walk or drive upon. It did radiate a bitter cold, but that was barely noticeable in early January in Russia. 

What it did do was pave over every pothole, fix every crumbling curb, and even prevent natural ice from easily forming on it, as if the road had been salted. When it was analyzed later, it was found to be ice, but not the natural sort. While it was made of water molecules, something had altered the molecular structure such that the Tsaritsa’s ice would never degrade based upon fluctuations in temperature. 

The end result was that with a wave of her hand, the Tsaritsa had repaired and improved every one of Mordovia’s roads in a single moment, even the roads that had been wiped away by the Sleeper’s powers. 

NOW, MY PEOPLE. TAKE UP THE SHOVEL, PICK, AND HAMMER, AND REBUILD THIS CITY! RESTORE IT NOT JUST TO ITS FORMER GLORY, BUT TO HEIGHTS BEYOND ANYTHING THIS WORLD HAS SEEN BEFORE! The Tsaritsa ordered. 

At that moment, a convoy of trucks rumbled up, each of them loaded with lumber, cement, pipes, wiring, and all the other things that would be needed to build houses. There were also empty flatbed trucks, and Anatoly’s men, now the Tsaritsa’s loyal servants, jumped off, and began shouting.

“Workers! Needed here! Strong backs! Eager for labor! Come, and build the Tsaritsa’s kingdom!” 

“Good pay for good labor! Hard currency, copper, silver, or gold, minted by her Imperial Eminence!” 

There was a rapid scramble, and soon, hundreds of men and women were flocking to the recruiters. It had nearly drained Anatoly’s coffers to find this much in precious metals, as the Tsaritsa found rubles to be as worthless as most did, and she refused to use foreign currency. Instead, she had ordered that coinage with her likeness on one side, and a Cryo symbol on the other be minted. She deemed it the “Imperial Ruble,” and if they could continue to produce the coins, Anatoly had a feeling it would soon replace the worthless paper that the various governments that claimed legitimacy printed. The Tsaritsa had agreed that they would need to switch to paper currency instead of precious metals to meet demand, but this initial run was cold, hard, commodity currency. 

“For the rest of you, do not fear,” the Tsaritsa told the other members of the audience. “There will be work for all. None shall want for labor, and all who labor will be fed, clothed, and housed. Serve me, and you shall never know fear and scarcity again.”

To the desperate, poor, and often starving masses, such a populist message was guaranteed to inspire loyalty. Anatoly had more men and women waiting in the wings, and as soon as the construction crews had departed to begin their work, they arrived to begin to recruit people to make clothing, shoes, and various household goods. Most of them would end up being made by hand, as they hadn’t built the factories necessary yet, but the point was to provide jobs, housing, and food.

That last point was tricky, as the harvests in Russia had been poor of late because of the constant warfare and lack of infastructure. Anatoly would soon need to visit his bankers to take out massive loans, and he feared he would need to purchase foodstuffs from foreign markets. A problem he would need to discuss with the Tsaritsa later. 

“Spread word of this, my Witch,” the Tsaritsa said, exiting the stage with the Prince following close behind her. “Let my people know that I am here to love them and provide for them. That is, after all, the first duty of a ruler.”

“As you wish,” Yelizaveta agreed, curtsying gracefully. “What shall they call you?”

“The Tsaritsa,” Anatoly supplied. “Her Imperial Eminence, Bronislava Cocolievna Snezhnaya. The Cryo Archon.” 

“Indeed. For I am the God of Love,” the Tsaritsa agreed. “Let them know of my titles.”

Yelizaveta didn’t straighten but blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the last. 

“You are surprised I claim Divinity?” the Tsaritsa asked. She stepped forward, cupping Yelizaveta under the chin and drawing her slowly up. “Do not be so shocked, my Witch. Here. Let me give you but a taste of that which you crave.”

With her other hand, the Tsaritsa conjured up an apple of frost, which she then proffered to Yelizaveta. 

On seeing the crystal fruit, Yelizaveta began to salivate, and she licked her lips, trembling in anticipation. “Is…is that the Fruit of Knowledge? As in…as in the Garden of Eden?”

“I am unfamiliar with your mythology,” the Tsaritsa said. “But yes. I read a little of your Christian scriptures. He guarded his tree of knowledge. I offer a taste. But know this: Those who eat of my fruit will not surely die. Instead, if they are of great Vision, they may become gods, and live forever.”

Yelizaveta took the fruit greedily. “Say no more, sweetie. I’d risk everything for a bite of that.” Eagerly, she bit into the apple, which suddenly dissolved into a puff of frost. For a brief moment, Yelizaveta looked betrayed and devastated. 

Then her eyes turned a glowing blue.

“AHHHH!” Yelizaveta screamed, clutching at her head and falling to her knees, her eyes staring blankly up at the sky. “AAAHHH! OH GOD! I see…I see…oh merciful heavens. I see it all…”

Frost began to grow from Yelizaveta’s eyes, covering her whole body, until she seemed encased in ice. Anatoly thought she was dead for a moment, until the ice suddenly flowed away from her skin, and into a glowing gem. It looked like a Vision, but it pulsed with an alien light. 

“I name you The Witch of the Apple of Knowledge. Arise, Baba Yaga, and go forth into the world to find forbidden fruit,” the Tsaritsa said. 

Slowly, Yelizaveta got to her feet, a manic grin on her lips, her eyes very wide. One was still pale blue, the other her natural green. “At once, my lady. My god. I will serve you eternally. And love you forever.” 

“Forever is a very long time, my beloved player,” the Tsaritsa said, caressing Yelizaveta cheek. “But I shall hold you to that.” 

With a half manic, half joyous cackle, Yelizaveta kissed the Tsaritsa’s hand, then staggered off to conduct her work.

Anatoly watched her go, his face schooled to careful neutrality. What had just happened? And what service had Yelizaveta done to deserve such a gift?

“Do not be jealous, my Thief. Even if it is in your nature to be so. I am yet growing you a fruit that will open your eyes to the Delusions of this world,” the Tsaritsa breathed into Anatoly’s ear, making him jump. He hadn’t even seen her move across the room. 

“I…I have faith that my work will be rewarded,” Anatoly stammered, shaken by this bold display of divine power. The Prince looked awed as well, his expression full of adoration and worship as he gazed lovingly upon his queen. 

“Never fear that I do not reward service richly. But the fruit I gave to little Liza would not suit you. You do not crave knowledge, do you, my Thief?” the Tsaritsa asked. 

Anatoly swallowed, and shrugged. “Knowledge is power, as they say.”

“Ah, but you do not crave power either,” the Tsaritsa laughed. “When you truly know your own heart… then, perhaps, you will be ready to taste of my power. But not before.”

With that, the Tsaritsa extended her arm to Anatoly, which he quickly took. He escorted the Tsaritsa back to the grand hotel she had claimed as her domain. 

“Tell the rulers of this city I will see them shortly, that they might pledge fealty to me,” the Tsaritsa told Anatoly. “And send word to the mercenary captain as well: Those who are not with me are against me. And those that are against me have no place in my empire.”

He nodded, and fixed his eyes towards the future. What… what, he wondered, was the fruit he truly craved? 

One thing he did know: He would do anything for that sort of favor from his god. 

Eidolon stood at the back of the room, arms folded across his chest as he watched in disbelief at the little play unfolding. The sound quality was subpar, but the visuals were clear enough. Why on earth was one of the most powerful parahumans in existence taking the role of a childhood storybook villain for an alien demon? 

“Is that seriously Sleeper, or just an illusion?” he asked as the Tsaritsa made her little speech.

“That’s really him,” Contessa said, not turning around from her place at the front of the room. “My Path confirms it, as does our aerial surveillance footage and everything else. He doesn’t look anything like Ivan Petrov, but his original body was completely destroyed. Seems like the Tsaritsa made him a new one.”

“Is it a mechanical puppet, like Tsukoyomi is?” Becky asked in turn. 

Contessa waved her hand back and forth in a ‘sort-of’ gesture. “He’s made from a crystalline structure formed of Elemental Energy and the corpse of a shard. He’s a really odd blend of parahuman and Vision Holder now, even if he doesn’t appear to actually have a Vision.”

“Armory agrees,” Hannah said, spinning her shard through her fingers in the form of a knife. “He doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that one of his siblings was killed to form Sleeper’s body.” She paused, cocking her head to one side. “Or, no. He said that Sleeper’s shard was ‘not on the network.’”

“We suspected that Sleeper had one of Eden’s rogue shards before,” Doctor Mother said with a nod. “This confirms it. Now watch.”

Eidolon continued to observe as the Tsaritsa turned the roads to ice and snorted derisively. “It’s a neat trick, but how long will this ice last?” 

“Apparently as long as it needs to. We collected a sample and tried heating it up. It has a higher melting point than asphalt at 100 Celcius, or 212 Fahrenheit,” Doctor Mother said, glancing down at her notepad. 

“You could have just said water’s boiling point,” Eidolon muttered, but jerked a nod. “So she wants to go into construction. Most of the Archons seem to have their own little building projects.” 

“It bodes well that she’s investing in infrastructure. She’s here to build something, not just tear things down,” Wyatt opined. “So far, she seems to be practically ideal for the situation in Russia.”

“As long as she doesn’t want to bring back the Bad Old Days,” Eidolon pointed out. 

“I’m not ready to get into bed with her yet,” Hannah agreed, though the others looked skeptical.

“We’re writing up a threat assessment on her as is standard procedure, but I’m cautiously optimistic,” Doctor Mother said with a shrug. “At the very least, she’s the first Archon to openly confront our opposition. Even if she was forced to submit, she seems to bear a rather significant grudge.” 

“Just be careful you’re not inviting in a snake to chase off the lion,” Eidolon stated, then turned for the door. “I’m heading out on patrol. We’ve got S9 activity again.”

“Oh, David?” Contessa called, and he turned to her. 

“I’ve been Thinking,” she said, and pulled out that stupid eight ball to emphasize the point. “We’ve collected Grey Boy. The only one we really need now is Manton. The others are disposable. And deplorable. Gloves off.”

A slow grin spread over David’s face. “Well. Why didn’t you say so earlier? What changed your mind? No, wait, don’t tell me. It’s your new girlfriend, the ice queen.”

“Not just her. All of them. I think we can do with pruning the garden a bit to get rid of some weeds,” Doctor Mother said. “The Nine are more of a liability than they are anything else, and frankly we don’t need to have them as a blight on our soil. You can take care of them.”

“Glady,” Eidolon growled. He looked around. “Anyone with me?”

“Me,” Hannah said instantly. “I haven’t fought them before, but I’d gladly rid the world of them. I understand the need to compromise, but not with people like that.”

“You two have fun. Call us if you make contact, and we’ll come,” Alexandria said, winking at Eidolon. Wyatt even whistled at him as they left, making Eidolon hunch his shoulders reflexively and stare straight ahead. 

Hannah pursed her lips and glanced behind them, then looked over at Eidolon. “So, where are the Nine right now?”

“Activity in Phoenix,” he said. “Change into civvies. Don’t want to spook them.”

Hannah nodded, and stepped away to the locker room. Eidolon did the same, changing into jeans and a t-shirt with a hoodie. It wasn’t exactly cold in Phoenix in the winter, but he wanted to blend in as much as possible. He completed the ensemble with dark glasses, the better to obscure his face. 

Hannah was wearing something similar, though she had on a ball cap with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Interestingly, she had Armory on her hip in an open carry. When she saw Eidolon frown at it, she grinned at him. “Arizona is an open carry state. No one will look twice at a dark skinned woman with a gun. They’ll all assume I’m Latina.” 

Eidolon nodded, then rummaged a bit for a transport power. He grimaced when he found it. “I’ll need to put my hand on your shoulder to teleport us, take a few hops too, this is a weak one, but I don’t want to try again for another.”

Nodding, Hannah stepped in close, putting her arm around Eidolon’s waist. “You know Phoenix well?”

“Well enough,” he agreed, and tried to distance himself from how close she was. He tried not to think about matters of the flesh too often, but it was hard to ignore a beautiful woman this close to him. 

It took them a minute or so to jump to Arizona, with Eidolon slipping between the fabric of spacetime while holding on to Hannah. She didn’t comment, just waited patiently until they reached their destination, a back alley in the downtown area. Eidolon made to separate when they did, but Hannah slipped her arm through his. 

“Better cover if we move as a couple,” she told him. 

There wasn’t much to argue with in that, and besides, it did feel good having her next to him. 

They strode about the city for the rest of the day, Eidolon monitoring local police and cape chatter. There weren’t many people on the street, though Eidolon could see broken glass that was still being picked up, a surefire sign that the Nine were in the area. 

“You know, it’s funny we call them the Nine,” Hannah opined. “They have what, six members at the moment? Jacobs and Greyboy were killed by Glaistig, and they still haven’t replaced Nyx.” 

“It’s easier than trying to remember how many freaks they have at any given moment,” Eidolon said with a grunt. “But they seem to be laying low at the moment.”

Nodding, Hannah glanced around, then pointed to a nearby restaurant. “How does Mexican sound for lunch? I’m starving, and Contessa has the worst taste in junk food for snacks.”

“It sounds…good,” Eidolon agreed, and they walked over to the restaurant, which was open despite the broken windows. Most businesses were closed, but the owners here were willing to brave the Nine. Well, six. 

Despite her comments about junk food, Hannah ordered a pair of chimichangas. Against his better judgment, Eidolon got enchiladas with green sauce, and they sat down with a free order of house made tortilla chips to eat. 

“Mmm, this is much better than what we have in Brockton,” Hannah commented, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Though I bet you have good Mexican food in Texas.”

“We do,” Eidolon agreed. “You know how to tell if the food’s good?”

“If they failed their safety inspection?” Hannah asked with a teasing smirk. 

Eidolon coughed, surprised at the slightly racist comment. But, then again, she just looked like she could be Mexican. “Ah, no. They hand paint their sign. This place did as well. It’s a tradition, and it shows the food’s authenticity.” 

“That makes more sense, but it’s not as fun,” Hannah laughed. 

They ate and made small talk after that, mostly about baseball of all things. Eidolon was an avid fan, and Hannah had fully embraced the sport. The food was surprisingly good, which Eidolon commented on. “This place isn’t bad, we should come back here some time.”

“I’m free most nights. You’re a Noctis too, right?” Hannah asked, even as Eidolon realized to his horror that he’d effectively just asked her out on a date. 

“I…yes. And admittedly, I don’t tend to spend much time finding good places to eat. It’s mostly just working out and fighting crime,” Eidolon admitted. “I’m…not much for socializing.”

“How can you?” Hannah looked down at her mostly clean plate, running her finger through the sauce absently. “We know and see things you can’t talk about with normal people. And Armory isn’t much of a conversationalist. It’s…lonely. I’ve tried dating other capes as well, but…”

“Ah,” Eidolon coughed into his hand awkwardly. He’d never known how to talk to women, even with Thinker powers. “It can be a challenge. You, er, know about-”

“That the others are trying to set us up?” Hannah asked, sticking her finger in her mouth and licking the sauce off. She sighed. “Not the first time I’ve had that happen. Though I admit, the Fuck or Fight drive has worn off on me since Armory started playing nice with my psyche.”

“I never experienced that to the same degree. My Shard is…quieter,” Eidolon admitted. 

“Well, I’m not looking for a date just at the moment, or a fuck. But I wouldn’t mind either down the line. I’d just prefer to get to know you better, and prove myself first. I don’t want to be the girl who rose to the top because she was sleeping with Eidolon,” Hannah said bluntly.

That impressed Eidolon. He’d had more than a few capes, mostly female but a few men, preposition him over the years, and not just heroes. He’d been sorely tempted more than once, and to his shame, more than tempted a handful of times, though never with villains. 

“Sounds good to me. To be honest, I don’t know that the end of the world leaves time for romance,” Eidolon said, and tried not to sound bitter as he thought of Becky and Wyatt. 

“Maybe, but I don’t want to burn out and turn into a bitter old man like Armsmaster, he-

Something twigged at the back of Eidolon’s mind. He always had some sort of ‘Danger Sense’ type power on. It wasn’t telling him he was in immediate danger, but he spun about, eyes fixing to where he sensed a threat coming from. Hannah slid out of her chair and dropped to a knee, her gun flying into her hand as armor suddenly spread up her arm and covered half her torso. 

“That’s new,” Eidolon commented. He didn’t recall her ever being able to conjure up armor before.

“Uh, yeah. New to me too. What the fuck, Armory?” Miss Militia whispered, drawing a stars and stripes bandana out of her pocket and quickly tying it about her face. 

“They’re a mile or two away, but capes are throwing down. Let’s move,” Eidolon said, pulling his mask out of a pocket dimension and slipping it on. It was a waste of a power, but it did look cool, and he didn’t feel right going into battle without it. 

This time, Eidolon flew, with Miss Militia catching a ride on his back, Armory at the ready. They were at the scene of the fight in moments, where several obvious members of the Nine were fighting with a group of local capes. One of the local capes was down already and bleeding, and several buildings were have destroyed. 

“I’ve got a shot,” Miss Militia suddenly announced, aiming Armory in the form of what Eidolon swore was the sniper rifle from Halo. “Hold steady.”

Eidolon obliged, and Armory barked with a report that was definitely the sound of the Halo gun. He’d have to ask about that later. But there was a scream, and Eidolon saw Crimson jerk away from the body, a massive hole in his chest. 

“Finish him off!” Hannah shouted, and Eidolon summoned up a beam weapon. A laser blast took Crimson full in the back, vaporising the rest of his upper torso. Even then, he was regenerating, so Eidolon swooped down. Hannah hosed the villain down with a flamethrower, while he fired more laser blasts. By the time they were done, there was nothing left of Crimson but ash. 

“Well, well, well. That’s now how the game is played at all,” an all too famliiar voice called. Eidolon swore and threw up a barrier, even as he felt a searing pain in his side. He swapped flight for regeneration and fell to the ground to let his wound heal, turning to face Jack Slash. 

“We’re done playing games with you,” Eidolon snarled. Hannah was moving away from him, a carapace of black and green armor covering her body now, and an M16 assault rifle in her hands. Too bad, Eidolon had liked the sci-fi look. 

“That’s too bad, because I’m not done playing with you yet,” Jack laughed. “How about a game?”

“Mister! Mister Eidolon, please, help me!” a girl’s voice wailed, and Jack turned to the side to reveal a young girl with blonde hair and a blue gingham dress. She was tied up, her face streaked with tears and her clothing stained with blood. 

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Hannah said firmly. “Let the hostage go and drop the knife, Slash.”

“Oh, that’s not the game at all! It’s the girl…or your friends,” Jack gestured, and the Siberian appeared with two local Protectorate capes. One was Cachina, a Master with a life sized doll he could control through dance, and the other a Dendro Vision Holder called Saguaro. Both and their heads wrapped in the Siberian’s arms, and were struggling slightly and whimpering as the black and white stripped woman grinned through bloody teeth. 

“Save the kid,” Saguaro rasped. “It’s our job.”

Cachina just looked at Eidolon with dazed eyes, apparently too hurt to give a response. 

Eidolon swallowed, glancing between the girl at Jack’s knife point, and the two capes at the Siberian’s mercy. In all reality, they were both probably already dead. 

“Quickly, quickly. I’m sure you’ve called your friends in,” Jack purred. “I’ve got mine as well, but we got what we wanted here already. A beautiful new art display here in the valley of the sun. I like working with red, you see.”

Eidolon didn’t bother with the banter. He glanced at Miss Militia. She nodded back. The girl. 

Taking two strength enhancing powers to compliment the barrier and regeneration, Eidolon bull rushed Jack even as Miss Militia fired and he put up a barrier between Jack and the girl. 

There was a sick sound, like watermelon’s bursting, and Eidolon gritted his teeth as Cachina and Saguaro’s brains were splattered over the pavement. Somehow, Jack had seen him coming and got out of the way, dodging to the side and slashing at both Miss Militia and Eidolon at the same time, despite the distance. Sparks flew off Miss Militias’ armor and Eidolon grunted in pain, but he could regenerate. The innocent child couldn’t.

Jack was laughing, right up until Miss Militia blew a hole in his chest with her gun. It wasn’t a big hole, just 5.56 NATO rounds, but he didn’t have a healing factor that Eidolon knew of. 

Cackling, the Siberian charged forward, dropping the dead bodies and smeared in gore. Eidolon met her, and the impact was enough to crack the concrete at their feet. The two exchanged blows for a few moments, the violent psychopath laughing hysterically all the while. While Eidolon was certainly one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, parahumans on Earth Bet, what he wasn’t good at was this sort of direct confrontation. His power lay in his flexibility, and locking himself into a slugging match with a Brute like the Siberian was a losing proposition.

Unless, of course, he had back up.

Alexandria hit the Siberian at several times the speed of sound, hitting with all the impact of the sky itself falling. The massive spray of ice at the impact point knocked even Eidolon back, and he’d been ready for the hit, having been keeping track of Alexandria’s location after reporting in on the location of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

“Took you long enough,” he said, exchanging his Brute powers for flight and Blaster powers again, this time some electricity-based ones to work with Alexandria’s Cryo Vision. 

“How was your date?” Alexandria asked, floating up beside him as the Siberian dug herself out of the crater she’d been put into. 

“We had Mexican. And it wasn’t a date. Go,” Eidolon said, and hit the Siberian with a blast of electricity hot enough to turn the air to plasma. 

Alexandria obliged with a hit to the Siberian, fueled by more Cryo. Then it was a proper slugging match, though not one that lasted more than 30 seconds. To Eidolon’s shock, after a particularly earth shattering Cryo infused punch, the Siberian actually popped. 

“Was that you, or me?” Alexandria gasped, panting as the woman vanished, dissipating and reappearing wherever that asshole Manton was. 

“The reaction, I think. I guess her defense can’t handle Superconduct at that level,” Eidolon said, then scanned for Miss Militia. She found her kneeling beside Hero, who was providing first aid to the little girl.

“You alright, kid?” Hero asked. 

“I want my mommy,” the girl blubbered. 

“She’s mostly intact, I’ll take her to the hospital,” Hero said, standing.

“Let me,” Alexandria said, and picked up the girl gently. “You go look for the rest of the Nine. You’ve got better tracking gear.”

With that, Alexandria took off, leaving Eidolon and the others to look for Jack Slash. As usual, the bastard had vanished, with no sign of where he’d gone. They didn’t locate Shatterbird or any of the other members of the Nine, but at least they’d put paid to Crimson. 

“We’ll count that a victory, I suppose,” Eidolon said, and the others nodded.

That night, Eidolon got a call at his apartment. When he picked up, he heard only a laugh, and then two words. “You lose.”

It took him a moment to process it, but when he did, his blood ran cold. He didn’t even call for backup, instead teleporting to Banner University Hospital.

He was too late. Half a dozen horrors were rampaging through the hospital, with most of the staff dead, along with over one hundred patients. The final death toll was nearly 300 killed, and Eidolon took out his frustration by ripping apart the stitched-together horrors, conglomerations of corpses imbued with superhuman strength and durability. 

“Mama Bonesaw sent us to play!” the beasts chanted, formed of sewn-together corpses with forced smiles on their mangled faces. 

“Put out a new Kill Order,” Eidolon told Wyatt when he finally arrived. “That little girl was one of the Nine. Call her Bonesaw.”

He stalked away in frustration. Yet another defeat. How many lives, for just one of the Nine this time? How many more times would they have to do this? He spent the rest of the night hunting down whatever petty criminal capes he could find, and beating them to within an inch of their lives. 

He had to find a way to make this stop. Had to be the hero the world needed. He had to get stronger. Had to fight worthy opponents, so when the day came, he was ready. 

Worthy. I have to be worthy, he told himself as he beat a Breaker who’d been robbing a jewelry store in Austin senseless. 

But a part of him knew that as he was, he’d never measure up to the standard he’d set for himself. 

The Second Archon War: Carmen Dei 25

Carmen Dei 25: Red Sky at Morning

There were times where Capri’s life simply didn’t feel real. She’d spent most of her life as a practically broke wanderer who never really knew where her next meal would come from or what her next gig would be. Heck, even as Venti’s bandmate, she often had to wonder where she’d get money for gas if Venti didn’t feel like blowing some spare change into her window. A large part of her self-image was that she was still that same traveler: An outsider who was triple reviled for her gender, ethnicity, and sexuality.  

Then she had times when she dressed up in her fighting pajamas, had to put on a serious face, and pretend to know what the fuck she was doing. 

Standing atop the stairs to the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Capri nodded to the Polish delegation as they arrived. “Welcome to the conference. We’re looking forward to- OOF!”

Despite her Vision, Capri felt like one of her ribs was going to break as the man she’d extended a hand to wrapped her in a bear hug. 

“Ah, at last, I get to meet you! Big fan of your music, big fan!” the bear of a man with copper-colored hair and great rippling muscles laughed as he set her down. His blue eyes sparkled as he stuck out his hand. “I am Szlachta! Happy to meet you at last!” 

“Capri Cohen, uh, don’t really have a cape name,” she admitted, making sure to infuse her hand with a little electro as she took the massive paw before her. It didn’t feel like Szlachta was trying to pulp her bones, but he certainly had a firm grip. 

The man’s bushy red brows drew together, and he frowned. “Ah. Then I am Ajaks. Ajaks Jedynak.”

They nodded to one another, and then Ajaks leaned in close and whispered, “I hear there is going to be a big fight.  You don’t think I could spar with Venti, do you? I’ve always wanted to duel an Archon.” 

“Uh…” Capri felt her lips twitch, and she tried to fight off a smile. Was this guy serious? 

“Down, boy,” a woman’s voice said, and a hand grabbed Ajaks by the collar, pulling him back. A woman with a pale mask covering half her face smiled at Capri. “Sorry, dear. This dog tends to get too excited when he smells a fight brewing, but I’ll make sure he behaves.” 

“But Roz, I was behaving,” the big man whined, even as he looked down at his much shorter partner. 

Ignoring his pleas, the woman smiled at Capri and bowed her head. “I am Rozalyn Kruzchka, known as the Azure Witch. Call me Roz. We are grateful for the invitation from the Knights of Favonius to this council meeting.” 

Standing next to one another, the two Polish capes couldn’t have appeared more different. Ajaks was built like a red-furred bear, dressed in cashmere and silks, with a bear skin hat with an eagle’s feather on the brim, like the old Polish nobility of his cape namesake. He was called “the Slavic Alexandria” and in many ways that was true. Functionally, his powers made him into the standard flying Brute cape, but what he could really do was manipulate his own personal gravity. He could make himself fall in any direction to mimic flight, and turn his body super dense to turn his blows into multi-ton force. He could also manipulate the gravity of non-organic things he touched to a degree, allowing him to lift larger objects than he should be able to even with his own ability to multiply his own strength. 

In contrast, Roz the Azure Witch was a Master and Thinker who was waifishly slender. She wore a pale blue half mask that obscured the left side of her face, along with a form-fitting blue and white body glove covered by a thin blue cape. Her most notable feature was the six small blue wisps that floated around her. She could generate up to half a dozen of the moth-like constructs, which would obey her mental commands and could fly up to a kilometer or so from her. Roz could see through her constructs, granting her unparalleled information-gathering abilities in a small area. Her whisps were icy cold to the touch, and while they couldn’t directly hurt organic matter, touching one was said to be like being dunked in ice-cold water. Distracting and disruptive, especially if you weren’t expecting them. 

“I confess, I was a bit leery of such a powerful group of capes appearing in Germany, especially Venti himself,” Roz said, smiling at Capri. “His actions against the Gesellschaft were encouraging, but, well, historically, when Germany grows strong, Poland grows nervous.”

“And then the Russians got an Archon too, and now we’re like a nut between a pair of over eager squirrels,” Ajaks said, making a face. “I like to fight, but even I’m not mad enough to take on two Archons.”

That made Capri smirk. “You think you could take even one?”

Ajaks grinned at her. “Haven’t found out yet! But I would like to see how Venti spars.”

“We’re not here to pick a fight, we’re here to listen,” Roz said, rolling her eyes. 

“I didn’t say I would pick a fight! Just a spar. A small one,” Ajaks said, holding up thumb and forefinger as if to demonstrate. 

“Venti’s not really the sparring type. I’ve only ever seen him fight maybe half a dozen times, and only once seriously. That was in Munich. You think you could take an Endbringer?” Capri asked. 

“Ah, they do not trouble Poland! I’ve only seen one once, and by the time I made it to Cologne, I only got in a couple of hits against Behemoth before the coward turned tail and ran!” Ajaks laughed. 

Capri’s face went blank, and all traces of good humor vanished. Roz looked horrified, and even Ajaks seemed to realize he’d gone too far that time. “But, ah, I do wish I had been there sooner. To help,” he added lamely. 

“Well, let’s hope this time you’re not too late,” Capri said and turned around to lead them inside. 

The former headquarters of the Meisters had been taken over by the Knights of Favonius, who while not sponsored by the German government, were more or less the national cape team now. They were even something of an international organization, with capes from Austria and the Netherlands, and even the two capes from Liechtenstein. 

Now, however, capes from a dozen nations were present. The two Polish capes were just the latest to arrive: There were four capes from the Mousquetaires of France, three more from Belgium, an Estonian representative, five from Finland, a Vision Holder from Switzerland, several from Slovakia, the Ukraine, Hungary, Bulgaria, Latvia, Lithuania, and the Czech Republic had sent three. Even Sweden, Norway, and Iceland had sent teams. Notably absent were the team from Belarus, who had declined to attend, and of course no Russian capes at all. 

It made the central meeting chamber quite crowded, and Capri showed Ajaks and Roz to their seats before heading to the front of the room and approaching Cookie at the Grand Masters seat, looking harried and slightly frazzled. She wasn’t wearing her cape costume, but instead a business suit with her hair pulled back in a severe bun. 

“Have you seen-” Capri began, but Cookie shook her head. 

“No, I haven’t. Naomi was supposed to make sure he wasn’t late! Where is he? I know he’s not off drinking somewhere for once, but he should be here for this! It was his idea in the first place, and he’s the reason they’re all here!” Cookie hissed, holding a folder up to her face to try to obscure the conversation, her face going as purple as her vision with anger. 

Grimacing, Capri dropped her voice as well. “You know how he is. He wants to interfere with mortal affairs as little as possible. This is going to be your show.”

Cookie growled several implications about Venti’s heritage, mental acuity, and sexual prowess, then strode up to the podium right as the clock chimed 10 o’clock. 

“Good morning, thank you all for attending the first Grand Conclave of the Knights of Favonius,” she said, and the various representatives quieted and took their seats, turning to face Cookie. “Lord Barbados will be joining us soon, but for now I wish to extend the greetings of the Knights of Favonius to our fellow capes from other nations.”

There was polite applause as Cookie shuffled some papers on the podium, but when the audience quieted she looked calm and in charge. “As I am certain you are all aware, a new Archon has appeared in Europe. She is known as Dantalion, the Cryo Archon, and has appeared in Russia.”

Silence fell, and several faces looked rather grim. Many of the representatives, including many of the Germans, well remembered the long iron rule of the Soviet Union in their lands.  For many  ended less than a decade ago, when the Soviet Union fell amidst the chaos and destruction in the wake of Behemoth’s 1995 destruction of Moscow. 

“I can already tell you a little about her from my discussions with Lord Barbados,” Cookie said, looking over the crowd with a somber expression. “She is young, for an Archon, and ruled over a nation as their Tsaritsa. Our sources indicate that she has already claimed this title here on Earth Bet. And, that she has awakened the Sleeper.”

There were startled gasps around the chamber, along with cries of “Impossible!” 

“Do you mean defeated?” Ajattara of Finland demanded, the leaves of his costume rustling as he shifted in his seat. 

“She does not,” Rozlyn said, shaking her head and looking grim herself. “My sources just told me of this not long ago. A man claiming to be the Sleeper has sworn himself to the service of the woman known as the Tsaritsa. And the bubble in Mordovia vanished at the same time. Considering what other Archons have done…we must assume the worst.”

“This could be a good thing, no?” Hoidja of Estonia asked, looking around the room hopefully. “Archons have rid the world of several grave threats, from the Leviathan to the Beast of Munich, to even Farasha and the Simurgh. Perhaps this is more of the same.”

“You want to bet on that?” Hospitalar asked, looking around the room. “Would you gamble on Russian benevolence?” 

“I, for one, am glad,” Ajax laughed, tossing his red mane back and grinning widely. He spread his arms wide. “Now I get to fight the Sleeper and an Archon! Truly, a great day!” 

“You would fight an Archon? Madness. They have done nothing but good for the world,” Chaff Goby of Ukraine argued. 

“Then you forget the Second Sino-Japanese War, or the Blackout that the Raiden Shogun caused,” Cookie stated. “Archons are like the old pagan gods. You can argue they’re angels if you want, but there were fallen angels too. They can be mighty boons, but they’re fickle, temperamental, and liable to be out drinking instead of attending important meetings like they said they would.” 

“Well, make sure you tell me who it is, because I’ll make sure to have Capri give them a very stern talking too,” Venti said from behind Cookie.

The Grandmaster closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and very obviously counted to five. Venti appeared to have set  up a chair behind her several minutes ago, but no one had noticed him during the discussion. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Lord Barbados,” Cookie ground out, gripping the sides of the podium like she was imagining it was Venti’s neck. 

“Are you sure? He might be an imposter. Maybe I should punch him, just to be sure,” Ajaks offered, earning him a swat from Roz. 

“I’m afraid the only contests I’ll agree to are a dance-off or a poetry slam,” Venti said with a wink. 

“If anyone gets to smack you, it’s me. Now get over here and explain to all the nice people just why you’ve called them here,” Cookie ordered, stepping and jabbing a finger at the podium. 

Venti nodded, standing and coming up to the stage. He looked out at the audience, and the mischievous twinkle vanished. He sighed, and leaned against the lectern. “I’ve call you all here to deliver a warning: The Queen of Winter has arrived. And she is a jealous one.”

“So, she is dangerous?” Ajattara demanded leaning forward. “This Cryo Archon.”

“She is an Archon. A young one, by the way such things are reckoned. But her story is not mine to tell,” Barbatos said with a shake of his head. “No, I am here today to tell you plainly that soon, you will be faced with a choice, between her, and me.” 

“Why should we choose either of you?” Ajaks demanded, and this time the joviality had vanished from his tone. “Poland, we have been squeezed between the Bear and the Eagle before. I am thinking, this time, we can squeeze back.”

“I’m not here to squeeze anyone,” Venti said with a shake of his head. “My way is not to rule over mortals directly. Even convening this conference…that was Cookie. Normally, I wouldn’t interfere in mortal affairs beyond a few songs and drinks. But the arrival of Dantalion makes this a battle between Archons. And that is my domain. You don’t know her, but I do. So I’m here to answer any questions and warn you that soon, she will be contesting my borders.”

“You will fight her?” Hospitalar asked as mutters broke out in the room. “We march to war?”

“No, absolutely not, at least to the second,” Venti said firmly. “If at all possible, I want this to be resolved diplomatically. I’ve already dispatched two messengers to her to welcome her to this world and ask for peace. However…we have a long history. And not all of it pleasant. I’ve known her since, well, since she was an allogen. I suspect she won’t respond to my greetings warmly.”

“So you ask for our help to fight her?” Ajaks demanded, folding his arms over his chest. 

“No, not that either. If we do fight, and I pray we do not, I will not have any mortals caught in the crosswind,” Venti said with a shake of his head. “No, I’m not asking you to defend me. I’m asking you if you want me to defend you.” 

Everyone took a moment to digest that, while Cookie leaned over and returned the microphone. “Look, it’s simple. The Knights of Favonius are not a conquering army. We’re here to defend our freedom. We’re not interested in taking over anywhere, especially not your nation, or Russia. But we also want to make it very clear we won’t just stand by and watch while the bad old bear wakes up and starts gobbling up a bunch of countries again.”

“Will she do that?” Ajattara asked. “Finland has remained neutral in the past. We would do so again.” 

“Dantalion may allow that,” Venti conceded. “You could attempt to forge your own pact with her. But she is a jealous Archon. She rules over her hands with a tight embrace.” 

“And if we don’t want any Archons to rule over us?” Roz asked, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“That’s your choice as well. I’m only here to say that if you choose to join the Knights of Favonius, I will fight for your freedom. Beyond that, well, that’s up to all of you.” With that, Venti turned around, and walked right out of the room through a side door. Capri weighed her options, then stood up and followed Naomi after Venti, even as the room behind them exploded with shouts and demands for explanations. 

“Well, that was quite the mic drop,” Capri said, jogging to catch up to Venti. “You’re just gonna make that mess for Cookie to clean up, aren’t you?” 

“Cookie’s a smart woman, and I told her this would be her mantle to wear before I had her summon the heroes of other nations,” Venti said with a shrug. “It’s not my place to run a mortal group. I’m the bard who plays encouraging music, and rouses their spirits! Not the noble hero or hard-working captain who holds them together.”

 “So how do we raise people’s spirits?” Naomi asked as they stepped outside, near where the van was illegally parked by the curb. Capri could see the ticket on the windshield. Sheesh. 

“The same way I always do! By ensuring the winds of freedom blow across their lands, and by providing them with songs to cheer their hearts!” Venti sobered as he opened the back door, looking back at the Knight’s guild hall. “I don’t know what they’ll choose. It’s not up to me. But I fear for those who leave themselves to Dantalion’s mercy. For she has none left.”

“You knew her well, back on Teyvat?” Capri asked as she snatched the ticket up and stuffed it in the glovebox. 

“I knew the mortal girl who would become Dantalion,” Venti said quietly. “But I fear I know her heart not at all now. It was my mistake. And she was right to accuse me. Still, I wonder what it means, that Rozalyn is here, now.”

“What does the Azure Witch have to do with all this?” Capri asked as she drove away. 

“Nothing, and everything. Stories repeat themselves across the tapestry of time, as the wind carves new paths through the sands. Perhaps this time, the outcome for her will be gentler than it was in the previous tale,” Venti said, rolling the window down and letting his fingers trail through the air as the van rumbled along the road. 

“Right. So, where are we going?” Capri asked. 

“Let’s go to the park, and perform a little concert there! Then we’ll meet with some of our new friends at the bar later, they’ll want to talk to me privately,” Venti told her. 

“Sure,” Capri agreed and headed for the park. Venti’s little whims were always odd, but they did seem to work out remarkably well each and every time. 

“What about Dorothy and Geoff?” Naomi asked. “Will they succeed? Will there be peace?” 

In response, Venti just pulled out his guitar and plucked out a mournful tune. 

Capri swallowed and glanced at Naomi, who looked fearful. That probably meant the worst. For a minute or so, they drove in fearful silence, holding hands over the dash. 

Then Naomi swallowed, and turned to Venti who was still playing a haunting melody on his guitar. “Whatever happens…we trust you. We’re with you. Even if you end up fighting this Dantalion.” 

“And we choose to do so, so don’t try saying some BS about violating mortal will or whatever,” Capri added, glancing in the rearview mirror at Venti. 

“Thank you. I will always be with you,” Venti told them. “Even if you will not always be with me.”

Capri tried to process that and nearly asked Venti what he meant, but Naomi had tears in her eyes and shook her head, so Capri just drove the rest of the way to the park. 

They ended up setting up on a brown field spotted with snow, their breath misting in the wind as Venti began to play his guitar for passersby. Capri was hauling instruments out of the van, when she paused to whisper to Naomi, “What did he mean, about him always being with us but us not being with him? You think he’s planning on leaving again?”

“I don’t think so,” Naomi told her, going misty-eyed again. “Think about it, Capri. How old is Venti?”

Capri opened her mouth, thought about it, then shut her jaw and shrugged helplessly. 

“No matter what happens, Venti will be around long after you or I are gone. Not just that though: If this does become a war between Archons…then can we even stay with him, if he becomes the Wind again?”

“We’ll find a way,” Capri said stubbornly and hauled Naomi’s drums out to where Venti was playing. She tried to lose herself in the music, as a crowd gathered about them to watch their performance, but a part of her mind wasn’t there. 

What was going to happen? There was change upon the wind, and more than that, would Venti have to leave? She didn’t know what she’d do if that happened. Either way though, she’d never let her dream of using her music to spread freedom for all eternity. Even if she had to fight a god to do it. 

Once more, Alexandria hovered above Times Square, smiling down on the crowds. Even at her elevation, she could hear the noise of the sea of humanity as people cheered and shouted. There were still a few minutes before the ball dropped and it was officially 2004, but she’d come from Los Angeles to celebrate three hours early. 

“To a new year!” Wyatt said cheerily, raising a glass beside her. “And to our new president!” 

“Don’t count your votes before they’re cast,” David said, but he smiled as he did so, raising his own glass of champagne to Alexandria. She smiled and clinked glasses with both of them in turn before sipping at her drink. She couldn’t get drunk even if she wanted to, but the pleasant burning fizz of the drink warmed her slightly. That was new, something that had come with her Vision. More and more, as she was further attuned to it, she was able to experience the world more fully than ever before.

“Cheers,” Alexandria agreed. “Thanks for coming to meet us, David. We called Keith, but he’s at a party in Brockton with Arthur and his own team.”

“It’s not New Years in Houston for another hour, I can get back in plenty of time,” David said with a shrug. He wasn’t dressed in his hero garb for once, instead wearing a suit that Alexandria just knew that Keith had picked out for him because there was no way David had fashion sense enough to have selected it. 

She was wearing a suit as well, largely because unless she wanted panty shots to be spread around, dresses weren’t the wisest fashion choice for her. Her’s was a sober charcoal color, but Wyatt had on a hilariously tacky sparkling gold suit with a bright blue bowtie and a tophat that had some sort of digital display that alternated between flashing HAPPY NEW YEAR in obnoxious neon, and showing fireworks displays across the world. 

“So, any New Year’s resolutions?” Wyatt asked brightly. “Aside from political aspirations.”

“To have a wedding that isn’t crashed by a supervillain,” Alexandria said, which made Wyatt laugh. She was serious though: She woke up in a cold sweat at least once a week from a nightmare that Jack Slash, Ashbeast, or even the Raiden Shogun crashed her wedding party. 

“To kill an Endbringer,” David said firmly. “It can be done. We have to show we’re just as good as an Archon.” 

“That’s the same resolution you have every year. Come up with something more creative,” Wyatt told David. 

“Fine. To beat you at Fantasy Football for once. I swear you get your teams from Contessa,” David said with a sigh. 

“No, I was just a nerd in school, not a jock, so I know how to play moneyball,” Wyatt teased. 

There was a loud cheer from the crowd below, and Alexandria saw that the countdown had reached the one-minute mark. She drew herself close to Wyatt, hugging him tight as he caressed her cheek. “Why not resolve to get a girlfriend, David? You haven’t dated anyone since you and Veronica broke up.”

“I need to focus on saving the world, not get distracted by romance. Narwhal and I parted on good terms,” he said testily, turning his back towards Alexandria and Wyatt. 

“Why not ask Hannah out? You like, she’d be good for you,” Wyatt suggested. 

David just snorted at that one, taking a swig from his champagne. 

After that, Alexandria let herself be lost in her embrace with Wyatt, feeling the heat of his breath on her neck, the sensation of his skin against hers. How had she ever lived without this, without feeling the pulse of his love and hers from within her Vision? She’d have thought a Cryo Vision would make you cold and distant, but she found the opposite was true. Her emotions were amplified, especially thanks to the return of sensation. A few of the Thinkers were concerned about how it was affecting her mental state, but she was all for it. 

“I resolve to love more this year,” Alexandria whispered to Wyatt. “Especially you.” 

“And I resolve to build a better world, right there with you,” Wyatt promised. 

The crowd started chanting down below them, and Alexandria and Wyatt locked lips together as the final seconds of the year ticked down, losing themselves in their love for one another. 

Alexandria didn’t see the bitter lock of jealousy that David shot her way, but she felt it. She really would have to ask Contessa about setting him and Hannah up together. David would loosen up a lot more if he got laid. Veronica had told her that she’d broken up with David because he’d insisted that they wait until marriage for sex, which she very much wasn’t interested in doing. Hannah was religious as well though, maybe she’d be on board for that. 

The world exploded around them as the fireworks went off, and Alexandria and Wyatt broke apart, laughing. They swooped down low over the crowd, going slow enough to high five several cheering civilians, before flying off to swoop through the fireworks display. Even if they’d taken a direct hit from a shell, Alexandria doubted that it could do more than singe her or Hero. He’d put plenty of defenses into his suit, even if it did just look like formal wear. It was some sort of complicated reactive nanite weave that could protect him from a direct hit by an Endbringer, let alone an oversized firecracker.

After the display died down, they bid farewell to David, who had floated down to hover over the crowd, though he didn’t mingle, simply waving and watching.

“She looks cute, ask her out,” Wyatt told David, pointing to a costumed member of the New York Protectorate, Alexandria didn’t recognize who.

“Grenadine is 17! She’s still in the Wards,” David said, looking disgusted. 

“Ah, well, tell her to call you for her birthday!” Alexandria teased. “Or better yet, call Hannah. Wish her a Happy New Year.”

David just grunted, his way of saying the conversation was over. 

“Well, Happy New Year. And who knows, maybe you’ll be the next one married,” Wyatt said.

“Happy New Year,” David said, then jetted off into the sky himself in the direction of Houston.  

“Shall we? We’re already late for our own party,” Alexandria said, holding out a hand to Wyatt. The hover boots he had on could go fast, but not intercontinental fast. 

“I’m looking forward to my second New Year's Kiss,” Wyatt told her, which made her laugh. 

They flew off towards the past, the future chasing them from behind. Somehow though, Alexandria wasn’t afraid for once. Come what may, she would not be dissuaded from her path. 

Author's Note:

August is always when I'm busiest at work with the school year starting again, so things might be a little slower this month than they have been.

The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 8

Comoedia Glacialis 8: The Queen raises her hands to summon her Court

As-Salam palace had changed greatly in the past two months. For one thing, the entire thing was now overgrown with plant life. Not in a chaotic fashion, but in a sculpted and beautiful way that was awe-inspiring to behold, with a myriad of flowers that painted living murals on the walls and grounds of the palace. 

The other change was the name and purpose. Originally, As-Salam was built with plundered wealth from Kuwait and had been a luxurious private retreat of a dictator and his loyal servants. Now, the grounds were open to the public, with cool gardens and large libraries that anyone could visit, and a kitchen that provided food from the myriad fruit trees and vegetable gardens that flourished under the care of the aranara. 

No longer As-Salam, it was now called Bayt al-Ḥikmah, or the House of Wisdom. Some called it the Great Library of Kusanali, which Nahida was terribly embarrassed about. The library didn’t belong to her: It belonged to everyone. That was the purpose of libraries in the first place. To store and then distribute knowledge to all who sought it. 

Though at this particular moment, Nahida was having to ponder her convictions on that point. Some fruit was forbidden, and some knowledge should not be given away easily. 

“It is good to see you again, Nahida,” Fatoumata said, smiling and offering Nahida a bundle of books as Farasha glared at the American woman from behind Nahida. “I brought these as a gift, a token of our esteem.” 

“Thank you,” Nahida said, opening the bundle. She was quite delighted to find a signed first edition copy of Walden by Henry David Thoreau, several original Abraham Lincoln letters collected in a single volume along with what looked like notes from his time in office, a signed copy of Huckleberry Finn by Samuel Clemens, and very early copies of the journals of Lewis and Clark. “These are treasures indeed. They will have a special place in the House of Wisdom.” 

She looked up at Fatoumata. She was dressed in a white lab coat, with a fern green blouse and ankle-length khaki skirt, with just a bit of makeup on. Her Vision was tucked away in a pocket of her coat, visible through the fabric thanks to its faint glow. She was wearing spectacles with plain black metal frames, and she felt…at ease. At peace. That was good, but Nahida had to wonder why. Most people didn’t feel that way at all when Farasha glared at them. 

“What brings you to Baghdad? It cannot be simply to bring me books, as much as I enjoy receiving them,” Nahida said, prodding gently. She knew, of course, why Fatoumata was here. But she knew that mortals generally found it both disturbing and impolite when she simply had one-sided conversations, just because she knew everything the other party had to say. 

“I think you know,” Faoutmata said, giving Nahida a smile. “But I will ask anyway: What can you tell me of the Cryo Archon?”

Heart full of dread, Nahida slowly walked over to a bench, setting the books down, then moved over to stand beside a bubbling fountain that had small fish and frogs swimming in it along with lotus blooms and lily pads. She dipped her fingers in the water, smiling as the fish came to nibble her fingertips. She could sense Fatoumata waiting respectfully behind her, Farasha having grown bored with simply glaring at the woman, and now juggling balls of fire both to amuse herself and to attempt to intimidate Fatoumata. 

“I am not from the same world as this Cryo Archon,” Nahida said slowly. “Nor do I know her. She is Dantalion, and that is not the name of my own world’s version of her.”

“Really? So, you are not from Teyvat?” Fatoumata asked, surprised. 

“No, I am,” Nahida clarified, turning back to face Fatoumata with a frog resting on the back of her right hand. She let it hop onto her shoulder and giggled, then it splashed back into the pond. 

“Sheesh, you should wash your hands, kiddo,” Farasha commented. “Frogs are gross.”

“I will,” Nahida promised, though she disagreed that frogs were gross. They were quite charming and fun, though admittedly a human should wash their hands before and after handling amphibians. “I am from Teyvat, but not the same Teyvat as Barbatos, Beezelbul, and this Dantalion. It is much the same as Earth Aleph and Earth Bet: We have some shared commonalities but in other ways, are quite different.”

“No wonder you don’t work together then,” Fatoumata muttered to herself, then shook her head. “So, you can tell me nothing, then?”

“I can offer you some insight,” Nahida said, turning back to the pond. “Dantalion is in many ways similar to the Cryo Archon of my world. Both hail from the country of Snezhnaya, a nation far to the north, known for its harsh winters. Both were greatly wronged by Heaven. And both…both have hearts filled with grief.”

“I had been told her heart was full of love,” Fatoumata said, coming to sit down on the edge of the fountain. Farasha hastily adjusted her position to be nearer to Nahida. It was rather touching how much her mother worried about her safety, even though Nahida was in no danger from Fatoumata. She was an adept enough Vision Holder, but she hadn’t spent nearly enough time practicing the arts of combat to pose a threat to Nahida. 

“You cannot grieve if you do not love. I hesitate to draw many comparisons to the Cryo Archon I know, for they are such different people. But I can say that she is dangerous and very driven. Use caution in approaching her, for she is more ancient and terrible than you know, Fatoumata. And though she is the God of Love, her heart has forgotten what love truly is.”

“Is she an enemy of the King of Demons?” Fatoumata asked bluntly. 

Nahida sighed. “The enemy of your enemy is not your friend. That is a piece of folly that is often passed around as wisdom.”

“But she does oppose him,” Fatoumata prompted. 

Nahida met Fatoumata’s eyes. “Yes. And beware of her. For it is upon the head of the King of Demons she has transferred her quest for vengeance. And woe to any who stand in the way of that.”

“My group seeks nothing but the preservation of mankind. She would be a powerful ally,” Fatoumata mused. 

Desperately, Nahida shook her head. “Vengeance is not salvation. Hatred breeds only destruction. I have warned you to be cautious what path you choose, Fatoumata. There are no friends on the path that Dantalion treads. Only tools. Do not choose the same path for yourself.”

“I will choose any path that results in the survival of mankind. Whatever the price. You and the other Archons have given us hope that victory is possible. Now we simply need to map the path to it.”

“Be careful that the path you tread does not also lead to damnation,” Nahida warned, desperately hoping to be understood. “The Cryo Archon’s heart is full of ice. She will not be kind to mortals that are not even hers. If it will gain her revenge, she will sacrifice your entire nation on the altar of her grief!” 

“So would I,” Fatoumata said quietly. “So I already have.”

Nahida felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks. “Then you are already lost.”

“I resigned myself to not surviving the end of the world long ago. So long as I do not sacrifice myself in vain, it is a small price to pay,” Fatoumata told Nahida.

“Well, you’re not sacrificing Nahida or my family,” Farasha broke in, her eyes burning with anger that hurt Nahida to the center of her being. “Damn the world, I’m saving my own.”

“I’m well aware of your attitude, Hutah,” Fatoumata said derisively. “Be grateful that others are willing to pay the price you are not.”

“None of you need to pay that price! This is a matter for the Archons. It is our very reason for being,” Nahida pleaded. 

“No!” Fatoumata and Farasha said at the same time. They glared at one another before both nodded somewhat respectfully. 

“You first,” Farasha said. “I insist.”

“Nahida,” Fatoumata knelt, drawing out a hankie and gently wiping Nahida’s tears away. “If anyone should survive the end of the world, it is you. You represent the best hope for mankind once the world is saved.”

“And I absolutely forbid any more stupid self-sacrifice schemes,” Farasha added. “Or no more bedtime stories.”

Nahida forced a smile at that. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, one way or another. But please. Be wary of the Cryo Archon. Just because you share similar goals does not mean she has any love in her heart for you.”

“We don’t need to love one another. We just need to hate the same target,” Fatoumata said. She stood and bowed to  Nahida. “Thank you. If I may, I would love to attend one of your classes. I have others in my employ who I think would benefit from learning from you. Your class on Basic Elemental Theory looks especially interesting.” 

“You are welcome, though space is limited. Send me any applications you have, and I will review them,” Nahida promised. 

“Of course, I’ll forward them to Dr. Bashir right away. Say hello to him for me,” Fatoumata said, then stepped towards the nearest door. 

“You can depart from wherever you wish. You don’t need to pretend for me,” Nahida told her. 

“I suppose I should have expected you’d see through that little bit of theater,” Fatoumata said with a wry chuckle. She turned to the empty air, then said, “Door me.”

A portal appeared from nothing, a tactless rent in the fabric of reality. It was a rather artless way to conduct transportation, but effective if brutal. Fatoumata stepped through and vanished, and Nahida sighed. She went over as the portal closed, then gently healed the hole in the world. She’d have to bring it up to Fatoumata. Such reckless use of power showed a distinct lack of foresight. A plane would be slower, but would not harm the natural order of things. 

“I don’t like her,” Farasha said, coming over to put a hand on Nahida’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Nahida said, giving her mother a sad smile. 

“Not just because she’s an American,” Farasha added. “She’s a zealot. The sort who will do anything to achieve their goals. And that’s dangerous.”

“And you wouldn’t?” Nahida asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Difference is kid, I do it out of love. Love for you, love for your dad and sister, heck, even love for what you’re building here. Her? She’s doing it for some high-minded philosophical bullshit like the survival of the human race. And nutjobs like that will burn the whole damn world and don’t give a rip about the consequences,” Farasha warned. 

“Yes,” Nahida agreed. “I’m worried about her. And about Dantalion. Has she announced herself publicly yet?” 

Farasha shook her head. “No, but Tessa’s keeping a close eye on her. Says she’s in Mordovia, where the Sleeper is. Depending on what she does, that could be good or bad.”

“The Sleeper will awaken,” Nahida prophesied, dread filling her heart as she did so. “And when he takes the stage, he will make the world tremble at his coming.”

She had so little time. There was so much to do. Hurrying over, Nahida picked up the books Fatoumata had given her, and hurried back to the library. No matter what happened, knowledge had to be preserved. But more importantly than that, life should be as well. 

When the storm dissipated, Anatoly’s heart leapt with joy. The obvious conclusion that he and the men with him reached was that the Tsaritsa had slain the Sleeper. They all cheered, and Anatoly couldn’t help but laugh. “With this, she will have the entire nation behind her!” 

They hurried to the edge of the pit where the storm had been and peered out to see a gray and dreary landscape. A few moments later, it suddenly filled with ice, and Anatoly drew back, worried. Had something happened to the Tsaritsa? 

Then, he spied her gracefully skating across the ice towards them, and he raised a lusty cheer along with his men. But their cheers died away when they realized that the Tsaritsa was not alone: Another figure skated across the ice with her, strong and confident, and wearing a dazzling white uniform. The two of them moved across the ice like professional figure skaters, twirling about one another and carving an intricate pattern on the ice. It was some sort of four-pointed star, but with additional details that Anatoly could not make out from ground level. 

After a few minutes of skating, a stairway of brilliant ice crystals formed, and the Tsaritsa was led up the stairs by her companion. As he grew closer, Anatoly felt the jealousy that had already been festering gain a great deal more substance: the other man was incredibly handsome, to the point he almost didn’t look real. He had a steely blue gaze, a jawline so well defined it looked carved from marble, flawless skin, jet-black hair, and the physique of a Greek god. He looked to be nearly two meters tall and 120 kilograms, but very little of that was fat. 

Anatoly was not a short man himself at 185cm, but as this stranger approached he felt dwarfed, and it burned like acid in his stomach. Who was this interloper, and how dare he usurp Anatoly’s rightful place at the Tsaritsa’s side!

“Thief, this is the Prince,” the Tsaritsa said, indicating the chiseled man as they reached the top step. “He shall be one of your brother Harbingers.” 

“Hello,” the so-called Prince said, his voice a deep baritone. He even sounded like the very model of masculinity. “Ah, I am Ivan Petrov. I am…I was…The Sleeper. But I am awake now, and I serve the Tsaritsa.”

At that news, Anatoly involuntarily jerked back, as did his men. This was the Sleeper? He had imagined a disheveled, shrunken little man with evil eyes and a hunched back. But this Adonis? Anatoly wasn’t a filthy homosexual, but even he had to admit the man was beautiful. 

Despite the shock and jealousy, his mind whirled. “The Sleeper serves you now? That is…well, it could be a PR triumph or nightmare, depending upon how we spin it. The Sleeper is the most feared man in Europe. Only the likes of Ashbeast or an Endbringer are as feared as he. Has he retained his powers?”

Ivan blinked, and turned to the Tsaritsa. “I can still feel my abilities, but…muted. Do I still have them? I will not mourn if I do not, but-”

“You do, and stronger than ever,” the Tsaritsa confirmed. “You would be of little use to me as just a pretty face. The Prince must be mighty indeed, if he is to save the Kingdom.”

The Sleeper frowned, then held up a hand. A bubble of iridescent unreality formed there, and Anatoly swore, drawing up a barrier of ice and putting himself between the Sleeper and the Tsaritsa. 

“Be at ease, my Thief. He will not harm me,” the Tsaritsa said in amusement, but Anatoly did not relax. 

The bubble floated from the Sleeper’s hand, then popped against a bit of rubble, erasing where it had touched utterly. “I…I can control it!” the Sleeper said in astonishment. 

“Wanton destruction has a time and place, but more refined methods are usually preferable,” the Tsaritsa said with a shrug. “You will need practice, and I shall have to edit your script to get you perfect, but you shall be a powerful player, and an excellent Harbinger. I anticipate you will Rank highly among them, once I have gathered them all to me.”

“Harbinger?” Anatoly slowly lowered the barrier, turning halfway to the Tsaritsa, but not exposing his back to the Sleeper. 

“Ah, I have not fully explained the performance you shall render me,” the Tsaritsa said, tapping her pale lips with a manicured finger. “Well, every great play must have its players. This shall be my Frozen Comedy, and you my players upon the stage of the world. The role I have cast you in, Anatoly, is that of the Thief. Clever. Cunning. Working from the shadows to steal that which is precious. Sometimes the Thief is a villain, others a hero, but always an enigma.”

“And the Sleeper…he is to be your consort, your Prince?” Anatoly asked bitterly. Thieves were never the lovers of royalty. 

The Tsaritsa laughed at that. “I am the director of this comedy, not a player. Gods do not take mortal lovers, Thief. At least this one does not. Save your affections for Elena. Yes, the Sleeper is to be my prince: the eye-catching centerpiece granted power by Fate to fight both gods and demons. But where a Prince may die facing his foes in open battle, a Thief may survive from the shadows.”

“I will do whatever is needed,” the Sleeper said, dropping to one knee and putting his right hand to his heart. “I will serve you with utter devotion, my queen. You have awoken me from my slumber and given me back life. I can never repay this.”

“For now, simply serve me. You will learn your duties in time,” the Tsaritsa said. “Rise, Prince. For it is time for you to gather your kingdom unto yourself.”

The Sleeper looked up, confused, but then the sound of sirens were heard. “Your people approach. Go, and proclaim the beast slain, and tell the people of my name,” the Tsaritsa ordered. 

“At once,” the Sleeper agreed, standing and going to meet the approaching police. 

The Tsaritsa turned to Anatoly, who bowed to her. “And I, my lady?”

“You shall do what a Thief does best: Take to the shadows,” the Tsaritsa ordered. “Harness the men of power in this city. Bring them to me that they might swear allegiance to me. And secure the resources we shall need to begin rebuilding this place. It will be good practice for my new capitol.” 

Anatoly looked around at the devastation, then nodded slowly. “I suppose we should start somewhere. Mordovia has certainly been worse than some places.”

“And my people must know I love them. That I am here to soothe their hurts and bind up their wounds. That I will make them strong again,” the Tsaritsa stated. She looked to the Sleeper, who was gesturing to her before a crowd of confused soldiers and policemen. “You have your task, Thief. Go now and attend to it.”

Hesitantly at first, Anatoly backed away, watching as the Tsaritsa walked towards the crowd, the Sleeper bowing to her. The soldiers and police looked on with awe and terror, but raised a ragged cheer. After all, the Sleeper no longer resided beside their city, like a dragon waiting to wake up and devour them. Instead, they welcomed a far more dangerous and terrible creature into their midst. 

But Anatoly did have to admit, she was very beautiful. 

He climbed back into one of the cars, ordering the driver to take him not to the government buildings, but to his acquaintances amongst the city's wealthy oligarchs and thieves. The politicians and bureaucrats were the dog, but the gangsters and rich were the tail that wagged them. 

Hopefully, they would be more cooperative than Viktor had been. He’d make sure to have his men talk in vivid detail about how easily the Tsaritsa had executed him, and that she had awakened The Sleeper. Along with the fact that she intended to flood Western Europe with enough drugs to make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams. The stick, and the carrot. And he had the largest stick on the planet. 

The first person he met with was another cape, the one that most called Baba Yaga, or simply The Witch. Like Anatoly, she was a Vision Holder, in this case, an Electro Vision. She’d been one of the first in Russia to receive hers four years ago, not long after the Raiden Shogun had slain Leviathan. Prior to that, Yelizaveta Mirova had been a librarian working for the Ogarev Mordovia State University. After receiving her Vision, she had decided that some changes needed to be made to the city. 

Thanks to her newfound powers and her encyclopedic knowledge of botany, chemistry, and chemical weapons, Baba Yaga had made herself known as one of the most terrifying capes in the city, at least ones that weren’t the Sleeper. She’d established an iron hold over information gathering not just in Mordovia, but all of Russia. She didn’t tend towards direct confrontation, instead preferring poison, gas bombs, and political maneuvering. 

If you wanted to know something, you went to Baba Yaga. The only question was, what price would the witch demand of you?

“Well cutie, I didn’t expect to see you today,” the Witch said, smiling at Anatoly as he entered her lair. It was a large office, surprisingly well-lit, and tidy. Each wall was filled floor to ceiling with shelves of books, and her desk contained several thick manuscripts as well as two organized trays of documents and manila folders. 

“Oh? I’m quite certain you knew I was in town,” Anatoly said, taking one of the two overstuffed armchairs that sat  off to the side. 

“True enough, but I rather expected you to die when you went to visit the Sleeper. What surprised me was when you came back out,” the Witch said, leaning back in her chair and smiling coquettishly at him. Despite her name and reputation, she was a very attractive woman, somewhere around her late thirties or early forties, though she looked a decade younger at least. 

She leaned forward suddenly, her eyes crackling with a spark of purple lightning. “So.  You found the genuine article. Not just a fake.”

Anatoly held up his Vision in his palm, studying the glowing icy mist within it. “She granted me this. You heard the words when you received yours, yes? Well. She spoke them to me herself. The Tsaritsa is the Cryo Archon, and no mistake.”

“Then Viktor was even more of a fool than I thought,” the Witch said with a tisk. “One does not challenge a being like an Archon to a duel. I thought he’d have learned that from what the idiots in Japan, Germany, and Iraq tried.”

“He saw it as a violation of the Code. Of bowing to authorities, and selling out fellow thieves,” Anatoly said with a shrug. “He was of the Old Guard, and as inflexible as his powers.”

Chuckling throatily, the Witch shook her head. “Out with the old, in with the new, eh? Well, I assure you, I have no death wish. I won’t oppose her. Indeed, I have a feeling you’re here to make me an offer.”

“I am,” Anatoly confirmed. “She wants capable followers, and you’re one of the most capable people I know. I need a propaganda campaign, a message to the people of Russia that she is the savior and ruler of our nation, and that she will restore us to our rightful place amongst the nations.”

“Hmm, that is something I could do, cutie,” the Witch agreed, leaning back in her own plush chair. “But tell me, what’s in it for me? Why shouldn’t I just run off to somewhere warm and sunny and spend the rest of my days reading books while cuties like you serve me drinks with umbrellas in them?” 

“You could do that. If you were capable of leaving a center of power and knowledge,” Anatoly agreed. 

The Witch raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You could have done many things with an Electro Vision. Made yourself wealthy, generating power. Become a hero of justice, or the perfect thief. Instead, you became Baba Yaga. The witch who sits in a library while her little birds bring her crumbs of knowledge from around the world. You couldn’t put yourself somewhere where you don’t have control of the knowledge and information.” Anatoly leaned forward, meeting the Witch’s hungry gaze. “And I am offering you the knowledge of a god. To learn secrets from beyond our world, beyond mortal understanding. Serve the Tsaritsa, and she will give you all that you crave and more.”

The Witch licked her lips, then looked around her officer, her eyes roaming over the many tomes she’d collected. “What you offer me…it’s what my heart has long desired. What my true ambition is. To Know. To have the secrets of the universe at my fingertips…then make reality itself bend to my will.”

“Then agree to serve her. Help me take this city in her name, without a drop of blood spilled.”

“And after that, the country…and the world?” Baba Yaga asked in teasing tones. But her eyes were full of hunger. “My my, aren’t you a greedy one, cutie.”

“The greediest man alive,” Anatoly agreed. He stood, and extended his hand over the desk. “Do we have a deal?”

Licking her lips, the Witch stood and smile. “We do. I look forward to meeting this Tsaritsa.”

“You’ll do more than meet her,” Anatoly promised. “You’ll introduce the world to her.”

The Last Drop of Hope, Chapter 34

aAfter the day he’d had, Kazuma was exhausted. They hadn’t done any actual fighting, but the sheer tension of walking through a deserted city and wondering when the monsters were going to jump out and tear him apart had him jittery the whole time, and now he felt completely wiped. 

The only other problem he had was that he was starving, so he started boiling some water to make instant noodles to go with his ration bars. Wiz had plenty of the premium stuff that was made with real wheat noodles instead of the fake stuff, so Kazuma was looking forward to his meal. He even made an extra one for Lolisa, then went over to where she was bedding down for the night, looking as tired as he felt. 

“Hey, you like instant noodles?” Kazuma said, holding out the bowls. “I got Spicy Shrimp and Spicy Beef. Which do you like?”

“What if I don’t like spicy?” Lolisa asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Then you have no taste, and I can’t help you,” Kazuma deadpanned. 

That made Lolisa laugh. “I’ll take the beef, thanks.” 

Kazuma handed her the bowl, and they sat in peace for a few moments, loudly slurping the noodles. It was a decadent luxury, and Kazuma was here for it. Forget those healthy fruits and vegetables: Give him monosodium glutamate, or give him death. 

“Ah, that really hit the spot,” Kazuma said, patting his belly after he’d drained his broth. He grinned over at Lolisa, then frowned. She was just toying with the last bit of noodles in her bowl, looking haggard and unsatisfied. “You still hungry? I got some more, or some ration bars if you need something more filling.”

“More filling,” Lolisa sighed wistfully, setting her bowl aside. “No, not a ration bar. Sorry, this was great, but it’s not what I’m hungry for.”

“What, you miss the fresh produce Aqua makes?” Kazuma asked. “It is pretty tasty I suppose.”

“That would have more mana, but, no, it’s not that,” Lolisa said, fidgeting. “I’m just…never mind. I’ll be fine.”

Something finally clicked in Kazuma’s mind, and he flushed. “Ooh. You, uh…you want to feed. Like the other succubi did.”

“I can manage, I went a long time without mana. I just…didn’t expect the Hunger to ever come back,” Lolisa admitted. She coughed, then stood. “I should…sleep somewhere else. I wouldn’t want to, uh, make any mistakes.”

“Wait, hold on! I mean, you could feed a little,” Kazuma said, scrambling to his feet as well. He took Lolisa’s hand, and she blushed, looking away from him. “I mean, those other succubi fed on those other guys without hurting them, right?”

Lolisa opened and closed her mouth, then tilted her head to the side. “I mean…yes? I suppose it’s theoretically possible, I just…the last time I fed on you…”

“Well, we’ve got to keep you from getting that hungry again,” Kazuma said as casually as he could, though he felt like his face was on fire, and not from the spicy ramen. 

“I…I guess…” Lolisa swallowed. “Um, let…let me ask Becky how they did it real quick…”

After a few frantic gestures and hisses in the direction of the pink-haired succubus, she flitted over to them, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “What is it? No, we weren’t going to play with your food, Lolisa.”

“Hands off Kazuma!” Lolisa snapped, then she flushed. “He’s not my food! I just…um…I needed to know…how did you, uh, feed on those men without, you know…draining them too much.”

“Right,” Becky said with a knowing smile. “Well, it’s fairly simple: you know how to take without killing, right?”

Lolisa nodded reluctantly, looking terribly guilty, and Becky smirked. 

“Not very satisfying, is it? And there’s always the risk of going too far and draining them dry. And it’s oh so hard to find new snacks.”

“Kazuma’s not just food! I just…I’m running a bit low on mana,” Lolisa admitted. 

“Sure you are, sweetheart. Well, the good news for you is Komekko is feeding me more than I need. You really should form a contract with her,” Becky advised. 

“No! I’m not becoming a slave again!” Lolisa snarled, hand straying halfway up to her neck and twitching slightly. 

“Whatever you say. Look, it’s simple. You need a buffer, right? So here’s what you do: you put your snack to sleep, then you use Dream Magic. You come to them in a dream, and you fulfill their every fantasy while you feed as much as you want. In the dream, it’s plenty satisfying, and it does fill you up. There’s also basically no risk you kill them, as the Dream Magic can only suck so much life essence so fast. Usually, the snacks are fine by the time they wake up and just feel like they had a wonderful dream.”

“It’s that simple?” Lolisa asked, looking flabbergasted. 

“Sure, have you ever done it before?” Becky asked. “It was useful if you had a limited number of snacks on hand, or if you needed to extract information or turn them traitor.”

“I…I was a rogue. A…a lonely mage summoned me. He was my master for thirty years, until…until he died,” Lolisa said quietly.

Becky gave her a pitying look. “You poor dear. You’re one of those who falls in love with the snacks, aren’t you? They rescue you out of hell, show you the pleasures of the mortal world, and you hang on their every word, treat them like they’re more than food, don’t you?”

“Keele was a good man! He, he was just lonely! I stayed with him until the Devil King’s army killed him!” Lolisa snarled, tears filling her eyes. “I just…if I’d had more mana, I could have saved him! B-but he forced me to go away, died to save me! So what if I loved him!? He loved me too!” 

“Sure. Just don’t make that mistake again. Don’t play with your food,” Becky said, then turned around and sauntered off. 

Kazuma swallowed, then turned to Lolisa. “I thought you said-”

“I lied,” she said bitterly, turning away from him. “I don’t…I didn’t…” she sighed, her wings drooping. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kazuma. You remind me so much of Keele. But I can’t fall in love with you. And you can’t fall in love with me. I’m a demon, and you’re a mortal.”

“Right, so, we’re just friends,” Kazuma said, though he knew he was lying to himself.

“Of course. Friends,” Lolisa agreed, forcing a smile. 

“Who, uh, feed one another,” Kazuma said, blushing. “So, like, after this, you owe me a pork cutlet bowl.”

That made Lolisa burst out laughing. “Pork cutlets? When was the last time you saw a pig?”

“Look, it always sounds so good! And hell, maybe Aqua can make a pig! She makes all kinds of other stuff,” Kazuma pointed out.

“Maybe she can,” Lolisa agreed, then stepped close to Kazuma, taking his hands in hers. “Are…are you sure about this? If I feed on you…it can be dangerous.”

“It also sounds like the best VR sex ever, so, you know, maybe I want to try it,” Kazuma pointed out.

“Oh honey,” Lolisa gave Kazuma a smoldering look, and he suddenly realized she was a succubus, and he was a desperately horny 20-year-old virgin. “I can make the best VR sex in the world seem like a cheap fleshlight.”

“That, uh, that sounds pretty good. Are you trying to convince me this isn’t the best idea ever? Because it’s not working,” Kazuma said, his voice husky. 

Biting her lip, Lolisa looked away. “I…I might be trying to talk myself into this. I…I really am hungry…”

“Then let’s do it now, before you get so starved you actually do something dangerous,” Kazuma told her. 

After that, they hurried to a side room down the hall, where Lolisa found a couple of cheap couches. After dragging them close to one another, Kazuma lay down on one, while Lolisa did on the other. 

“You, uh, may want to take off your pants, or at least, put a rag in them,” Lolisa told him. 

“What? Why?” Kazuma asked, frowning. 

“Well, er, you’ll have an…emission,” Lolisa admitted, blushing mightily.

“Oh! Uh, you mean like, a wet dream?” Kazuma asked, trying to conceal his own embarrassment. “I’ll, uh, get a towel…”

Lolisa even looked away while Kazuma situated himself, which was a bit ridiculous considering what they were planning. Still, he got his modesty towel on, then lay back, staring at the ceiling tiles. “So…now what?”

Lolisa sat up, then leaned over her face above Kazuma’s, smiling nervously. “Now…just relax. And dream a peaceful dream,” Lolisa told him. Then she kissed him on the lips, and Kazuma floated away on a cloud of ecstasy. 

Kazuma sat up, looking around himself in surprise. Where was he? His mind was all fuzzy, but this didn’t seem right. He was sitting on…grass? That was the word, right? Grass, and a few wildflowers and weeds, with trees not far away, a gurgling stream with rocks and reeds not far off. He looked up at the sky, which was a weird color. Darkish blue, with part of it red, orange, and purple.

He stared in astonishment, his heart in his throat. It was so beautiful. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so glorious before. 

“The whole world used to be like this.”

Kazuma half started, then turned to find a dark-haired woman in a low-cut dress next to him. She had the body of a supermodel, with breasts nearly as big as Kazuma’s head, an impossible hourglass figure, and a face that looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor. 

“Uh, sorry, who are you?” Kazuma said, his mind spinning slightly. 

“The woman of your dreams,” she said, and leaned over to kiss Kazuma. 

Something felt off to Kazuma, and he pushed back. “Uh, sorry, but there's this girl, and I think I really like her. I don’t know who you are, and something about this doesn’t feel right…I think I’m supposed to wait here for her? Sorry, I don’t really know where I am.”

The woman jerked back, then suddenly laughed. There was a puff of pink smoke, and then Lolisa was sitting there. “That’s sweet, Kazuma. Looking for me?”

“Yeah!” Kazuma said, suddenly grinning like an idiot. Why had he been worried? It was Lolisa, after all. He could trust her. She was the one he wanted. “You look good. Different, though. Did you cut your hair?”

Smiling shyly, Lolisa smoothed back her hair. “This is…this is what I’d look like, if I were human.”

That just confused Kazuma further. “Aren’t you? What else would you be?”

“Since this is a dream…yes,” Lolisa said, smiling. 

Kazuma stared at Lolisa, drinking the sight of her in. She was wearing a modest green and white dress that looked homespun, her pink hair kept short in a practical cut. “We grew up together, we were childhood friends, right?”

She started at that, then blushed and looked down. “...yes. I suppose we did. Here in the village. We…we were playmates and went to school together, and now…now we’ve grown up.”

Village? Kazuma vaguely remembered a crowded highrise, but that didn’t seem right. He pushed it aside, his mind deciding that detail wasn’t important in the dream logic of his current situation. “I’ve had a crush on you since I met you, you know.”

“I think I’ve had a crush on you too, Kazuma,” Lolisa said, smiling at him. 

“Really? Then…then you like me?” Kazuma asked, his heart fluttering. 

To his horror, she giggled. “This is rather more wholesome than what I thought you would be into, you know. But yes, Kazuma. I like you. I might…might even…” She swallowed her words, looking half horrified. 

“Yeah?” Kazuma asked eagerly, leaning towards her. 

“Just…just kiss me now,” she whispered, clinging to him. 

He did, holding her close and tenderly, savoring the taste of her lips. It was sweet and fruity, reminding him of summer days spent together picking strawberries.

“I love you, Lolisa,” Kazuma gasped, holding her close. 

She smiled at him, then put a hand to his chest. “Call…call me Kirayama. Please.” 

“Kirayama,” Kazuma repeated, grinning stupidly. She groaned and shuddered under him. “I love you, Kirayama.”

“I…I love you too, Kazuma Sato,” she whispered into his ear, then moaned softly.

All of a sudden, they didn’t have any clothes on, and Kazuma didn’t question why or why not. 

Lolisa, or Kirayama, lay back on the grass, and Kazuma positioned himself over her, grinning stupidly down at her. “I love you.”

“This is a mistake,” she whispered, and he felt horrified, suddenly backing away, his clothes on again. 

“Sorry! I thought, I mean, maybe we should wait, it might be too soon, we could ruin what we have, you’ll find out what a coward I am, and-”

“No. It’s…it’s just the fantasy,” Kirayama said, crawling over to Kazuma and grabbing him. “Please. Say…say you love me.”

“I love you,” Kazuma told her, and kissed her again.

 She kissed him back, and when they came up for air, she cried out, “I love you too!”

What happened next wasn’t some mind-blowing VR sex dream. It was actually rather awkward and messy, with more than a few embarrassments and mistakes made along the way. Kirayama seemed flustered and unsure of herself, letting Kazuma take the lead, though part of him knew she should be a lot better at this. Still, it was wonderful, and at the end, they lay together on the grass, holding one another tight. 

“I wish this wasn’t just a dream,” Kirayama said, clinging to Kazuma like he was going to slip away from her. 

“It isn’t,” Kazuma said, even though he knew this was wrong, that it was all just a fantasy. “I’m here, with you.”

“Yes,” Kirayama agreed. “Yes. That’s all that matters. What we have, right now.”

They kissed again, then Kazuma drifted off to blissful slumber, languid and content. 

He didn’t stir when Lolisa awoke and sat up in the real world, crying into her palms. He passed the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep, a happy smile on his lips, while Lolisa got up and stumbled in pain away from him, retching into a trash can. 

After all, while Lust was food and drink to a succubus, Love was a poison. 

As always, Megumin awoke instantly and early, ready to fight. Of course, there was nothing but the sound of her sisters snoring, and the soft breathing of the succubi in the corner. 

Getting up, she grabbed Gram, a canteen, and a ration bar, then trotted out of the building and found an open place to practice in. She had just assumed a fighting stance when she sensed movement, and flashstepped to the door she’d just exited out of, putting Gram at the throat of the person who stepped through it.

“S-stop!” Bukkororii stammered, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed in terror. “I just, I just-”

“Spying on me?” Megumin demanded. Then she hesitated. He was supposed to be a Crimson Demon. That meant he was part of the Clan. She withdrew the sword and gave him a tight smile. “Just kidding.”

“You’re…you’re really good with that, huh?” Bukkororii asked, sweating and giving Megumin a nervous grin as he peered down at her, rubbing the back of his neck.

Megumin glared right back, resting Gram on her shoulder. She hated that nearly everyone was taller than her, and while Bukkororii wasn’t a giraffe like a lot of outsiders, he still had several centimeters on her. “It’s a weapon, and I’m a Crimson Demon. So are you. We’re supposed to be masters of every weapon.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda…not,” Bukkororii admitted sheepishly. “I-I can fight, a little! And I know Intermediate Magic, but… well, the way you move…it’s really cool. Can you teach me? I think using a sword would be flashier and more impressive than just slinging spells.”

A part of Megumin was irritated that this idiot was more interested in being cool. However, a deeper, more primal part of her psyche was absolutely thrilled that someone thought her style was flashy and impressive. A part of her people’s heritage that had been long suppressed, to the relief of the world at large. 

But with the return of magic, it was time for the Edge to Rise.

“Well, we can start with some basic weapons training,” Megumin agreed casually. She looked around, then walked over to a pile of rubbish, and using Gram cut two pieces of rebar about a meter and a half long. “Here, catch.”

Despite his chubbiness, Bukkororii had good reflexes and snatched the rebar out of the air easily. He held it in a one-handed grip, frowning at it. “So, how do I like-”

“EN GARDE!” Megumin snarled and swung her bit of metal at him in a lazy arc. Bukkororii let out a yelp, then parried her hit, making the metal rods clang and vibrate. He swore, dropping his to the ground with a clatter. 

“Ow! That hurt!” he complained, shaking his reddened hands. 

“It’s weapons training. It’s supposed to. Now are you going to pick it up and fight, or give up like a soft outsider?” Megumin demanded. 

Flushing with anger, Bukkororii picked up his rebar and swung viciously but artlessly at Megumin. She parried with just one hand, making the metal ring again. This time, Bukkororii grimaced, but didn’t drop his improvised weapon. 

“Better, but your grip is all wrong.” Megumin stepped up to him, and showed Bukkororii how to properly hold on to the rebar. “This doesn’t have a proper grip, but you won’t always have a luxury. Here, hold your hand like this. Good. Now, lift it like this. No, your feet are all wrong. Like this.”

Fortunately, Bukkororii wasn’t Megumin’s first pupil. That had been Komekko, though it was a bit odd teaching someone who was bigger than she was. Still, Bukkororii listened and copied her exactly, and he had all the reflexes and strength of a Crimson Demon, albeit a pampered one. After half an hour of basic katas, Megumin was satisfied that her student had promise, even if he was hopelessly inept at the moment. 

“We’ll see about getting you a real weapon,” she promised him. “Save up your skill points, and I’ll teach you some advanced sword techniques. I got a lot of the melee skills for free, but I think you’ll have to train your butt off to get them yourself.”

“I will, I promise. I want to protect the others, like you do Yunyun and Komeko,” Bukkororii panting, wiping sweat from his brow. “They’re like my brothers and sister, you know?” 

“I do. I’m the oldest,” Megumin said, puffing out her chest. “It’s my job as the big sister to protect Yunyun and Komekko.”

“Yeah. So I’ll study the sword, and become a real Crimson Demon, like you!” Bukkororii agreed eagerly. 

That made Megumin feel about three meters tall, and she led Bukkororii back inside, where the others were already awake and eating breakfast. 

“Morning,” Kazuma said groggily, looking bedraggled and scruffy as he stumbled in. He sat down next to Lolisa, who had puffy red eyes. Had they been fighting? “You, uh, feeling full?”

Lolisa nodded mutely. What was that about? She hadn’t touched the porridge that Nerimaki had made. It was actually pretty good, with bits of fake sausage and egg in it. 

“Well, uh, good. It was, er, pretty great,” Kazuma said, looking very embarrassed. 

Megumin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Kazuma, did you let her feed on you last night?”

As both of the idiots spluttered, Becky spoke up. “It’s fine, I taught Lolisa a safe way to do it. She won’t hurt him. And her mana is all topped off, though she looks sick. Not used to dream magic, dearie?”

“Chip’s interfering, I’ll be fine,” Lolisa mumbled. “But my mana reserves are full.”

That was disgusting, but Megumin supposed that having a fully functional succubus was better than a starving one that could go into a crazed fit or pass out. 

“I had a good dream last night too!” Yunyun said happily, and Megumin nearly choked on her porridge. Which of the boys did she have to kill!?! “I dreamed about Ms. Wolbach! She promised to teach me the Explosion Spell, the one that nearly killed Seresdina! With it, I think we have a way to take out the Revengers.”

“Oh.” Megumin considered that and shrugged her acceptance, while Arnes fell to her knees before the cat on Yunyun’s lap. 

“Mistress, you spoke!? You’re still in there?! Please, tell me, how can we free you!” 

“Mrrow,” Chomusuke said, then snuggled up to Yunyun. 

“She, um, can’t talk now. She’s only lucid for short periods,” Yunyun said half apologetically. “We had to use the time productively.”

“Oh, well, I…I guess…I guess I’m just not important enough to my mistress,” Arens sniveled, crawling back to her seat and hunching dejectedly over her food. 

“You…you could pet her, if you like,” Yunyun offered, holding the cat out to Arnes.

“Oh yes, please!” the demoness agreed, happily taking Chomusuke and feeding the cat tidbits from her spoon. Chomusuke seemed to mostly be tolerating it, but Arnes looked thrilled. 

“So, do we know anything about where we’re going?” Kazuma asked once breakfast was finished. 

Megumin pulled out a map, then pointed. “We’re here, but it seems likely that they headed for revenger territory on trains. That puts their most likely destination here. Brindle City. We’re supposed to meet Tina and her team on the outskirts. Brindle is an aerospace hub, with a major space elevator attached. Though if that’s still working with the great big space cluster fuck is anyone’s guess.”

“Intel says it's intact, but not working at the moment,” Arnes reported. “No one can hold the orbitals at the moment, though ChimeraTech is slowly gaining the upper hand. It’ll be a long time before it all settles down.”

“Good news for us I guess. Well, our initial plan seems simple enough. The question is, what the hell do we do when we get there?” Kazuma demanded. 

“Destroy anything and anyone that gets in our way,” Megumin growled. 

Yunyun shot her an exasperated look, and shook her head. “G-gather information first. Where are the hostages? How m-many are there? And what’s the enemy’s p-plan?”

“I’ll pull maps of Brindle, but we should get moving,” Arnes said, standing. “Rail isn’t the way to go. We have a private aircraft we’ll be taking.”

“Not worried about air defenses?” Megumin asked, frowning at the thought. 

“No way, our ship has the latest stealth tech!” Pekonyan bragged. “We could fly right under their noses and they’d never see us!” 

“Plus it’s got all sorts of weapons, lasers, missiles, even a gauss rifle!” Chekeria added excitedly. “We haven’t even gotten to test them out yet!” 

“Who flies it?” Megumin asked, her eyes narrowing. 

Pekonyan puffed his chest out. “I do! I’m a crack pilot, you’ll see! Not just in the simulator either, I’ve got 200 stick hours!” 

That wasn’t a lot, but at the same time, Megumin doubted they had anyone better. “Fine. Komekko and I will man the weapons.”

“What?! That’s my job!” Chekeria protested. 

“Then you can show us how to use them, but how many times have you used weapons in anger, huh?” Megumin demanded.

“Well, I, uh, I…” the boy spluttered. 

“It’s OK, I’ll show ya how to splat people! It’s easy! ‘Specially with big guns!” Komekko said cheerily.

“Fine,” Chekeria said, deflating.

“Hey, don’t underestimate my kiddos. I trained them properly, and they’re good,” Arnes said, frowning at Megumin. 

She shrugged. “When they’re properly blooded, maybe I'll change my mind, but they’re green for now. Let’s get moving. I want to link up with Tina and Claire and find out more about how their operation went.”

They traveled about two kilometers to the airport, where they found a sleek black stealth craft that looked suited for atmo or space operations. It was indeed armed to the teeth, and with plenty of pods and that glossy look that spoke of top-notch comms and stealth tech. 

“Looks cool, doesn’t it?!” Pekonyan said, pointing to the and grinning boyishly. 

“I guess,” Megumin said at the same time as Komekko cried, “It’s the coolest!” 

They all climbed aboard, though it was a bit cramped with 14 people (and a cat) aboard. The ship hadn’t been meant for quite that many passengers, but they managed. 

“It’ll be just over an hour to Brindle,” Pekonyan reported as he began the startup sequence. “We’re fueled up and ready to go. Everyone buckle up, she’s fast!” 

Megumin sat at the weapons panel, familiarizing herself with the controls. It wasn’t too complicated, and she was certain she could bullseye any targets she needed to after just a couple of practice shots. 

“Pilot, set your course, and begin takeoff,” Yunyun ordered. 

“Aye, Chief!” Pekonyan agreed, and the engines roared to life. 

Megumin grinned, looking around. She’d thought they could take an army with three Crimson Demons. What couldn’t they do with seven? 

The Second Archon War: Imperatrix Umberosa 19

Imperatrix Umberosa 19: Go Forth and Shine, Lightning Princess Ami!

“We seriously could have just taken the train. It would have been a lot simpler.” 

“But it wouldn’t have been as exciting, and you didn’t want to steal a car, so this is our only other option!” Ami told Sayu, who was grumbling as she peddled her bike up yet another hill. “Besides, this is excellent training!” 

“I’m missing so much school for this, and I’m not going to get any sleep,” Sayu muttered. “What if we get run over by a car? This is a busy road!”

“If a car attacks us, I’ll blow it right up!” Clara said cheerily, her own bike whirring mechanically as she barely peddled at all. Ami thought that was probably cheating, but then again, Clara had complained on the first day that if she had to pedal all the way to Hokkaido then her legs were going to fall off, since she didn’t have super strength or endurance like Ami and Sayu. The main problem Ami had was that her butt was sore, but she had Murasaki heal them every time they rested, so it wasn’t so bad. 

They were on the fourth day of their trip, in the mountains south of Aomori.  There they would take a ferry to Hokkaido, then bike across it to Hokumon Shrine at the northern tip. All in all, the journey would take nearly a week. In the initial planning stages, Ami had dreamed of fighting rogue cape warlords, mutated bears, and various monsters. 

Instead, the most heroic thing they had done was help an old lady find her lost dog, and get a ball out of a tree for some elementary school kids. It had been distinctly unheroic, and mostly just hard, sweaty work peddling their bikes across Japan. 

“This road is hardly busy, Miss Nana. I planned our route to be optimal in its avoidance of heavy traffic, and the easiest to traverse on bicycles,” Murasaki said, poking his head out of Ami’s backpack where he was supposed to be hiding. 

“Well you could have picked a route that involved us taking the train,” Sayu pointed out testily. For a bodyguard, she sure did a lot of whining.  

They peddled along the mountain road for several hours, something that was only possible because all three were capes. In the case of Ami and Sayu, they had enhanced endurance and strength. In the case of Clara, she’d made a motorized bicycle out of what she’d found in a dumpster on the first day. It wasn’t that the Tinker couldn’t make things besides Jumpty Dumpties, it was just that she wasn’t terribly interested in doing so. 

Around 11 o’clock they came to the small mountain town of Kosaka, having already peddled for three hours. They collectively decided to stop for some rest and food, and made for the nearest convenience store for food. Money wasn’t a problem, as Ami had brought several million yen with them, just in case. 

As they were picking out fried chicken, onigiri, candy bars, and soft drinks, two other teens entered the store. Ami noticed them mostly because of the smell: they both stank like they’d been rolling around in a dumpster. Their clothes looked like they’d come from a trash can too, as they were both grimy and tattered, with faces smeared with dirt and grease. 

“Mistress!” Murasaki hissed as Ami wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore them. “Those two are likely the reason we are here!” 

“Huh?” Ami watched out of the corner of her eyes as the two teens slouched and made their way towards the shelves of food, casually snagging bags and packages. The attendant looked up from where they’d been helping another customer and frowned, while Sayu had put her hand to the side as if to summon her sword as she glared at the teens suspiciously. 

“I told you, I optimized our route! Well, I know you were seeking ne'er do wells to engage in combat, and there have been a string of robberies in this region! I believe they may be the perpetrators!” Murasaki hissed, his head poking out of Ami’s backpack to whisper in her ear. 

Ami studied the dirty pair more carefully. They looked to be her age or a little older, though it was hard to tell they were so filthy. Their hair looked grey under the grime, which was odd, and now that Ami looked at them, she saw their eyes were amber-colored.

“Are they capes?” Ami whispered, reaching out to try to sense any elemental energy. She sucked in a breath as she opened her spiritual sight: both were glowing with Elemental Energy, and both had Visions tucked away in their pockets. 

As if sensing someone was on to them, both teens suddenly grabbed armfuls of food from the shelves, then turned and sprinted for the doors. 

“STOP, THIEVES, IN THE NAME OF THE RAIDEN SHOGUN!” Ami bellowed, reaching within herself to where she stored her sword within her spirit, and drawing it forth. It hurt a little like she was squeezing it through too narrow a gap, but she could manage it. 

“IT’S THE FUZZ, CHEESE IT!” the girl shouted, and as she did so, Ami nearly dropped her sword as a striped fluffy tail poked out from under her skirt. 

“WINDS, BRING BINDING!” Sayu roared, and the doors slammed shut in the boy’s face. 

He squawked in outrage, falling flat on his rear, a tail popping out of his jacket as he dropped the food he’d been trying to steal. 

“Stealing’s against the rules,” Clara said in a sing-song voice, two small Jumpty Dumpties appearing in her hands.

“Yeah? Well, rules were made to be broken,” the thief girl sneered, and a glowing baseball bat of crackling purple appeared in her hands. 

“Owww,” the boy complained, getting to his feet. He manifested a bat of his own, this one made of swirling green winds. “Batter up, heh.”

Ami couldn’t have been more thrilled. Finally, worthy opponents! “Murasaki! Escort the civilians to safety! We will handle these two,” Ami ordered, as the panicked cashier and other customer both cowered. She quickly drew out an eyepatch and put it over her left eye. “Fufufu! Do you wish to do battle with me, enemies of justice? For I am the Prinzessen des Blitzen!” 

“I don’t care if you’re the Raiden Shogun! Out of our way, or we’ll kick your ass!” the raccoon girl threatened, raising her bat on high. 

“It’s Lightning Princess Ami! She’s come to save us!” the attendant, a woman of about 20 squealed in excitement. 

Ami posed dramatically, then had to squawk and duck as the girl’s baseball bat nearly took her head off. 

“Wait, hold on,” the boy said, his filthy face going pale. “Sis, don’t you know who that is?!”

“Some jerk who’s trying to keep me from my delicious snacks!” the girl responded, and Ami parried another blow of the baseball bat. Then she paused, as the boy yanked his sister down into a bowing position. 

“We’re sorry! We were just hungry! Please don’t kill us!” the boy babbled. 

“Get off of me, bro! I can take her!” the girl snarled, snapping at his fingers. Then she was suddenly gone, and tanuki with an Electro Vision on a cord around its neck was snarling and biting at the boy, who an instant later had turned into a tanuki as well. Both of the raccoon dogs began snarling and biting at one another as they rolled around on the floor in a flurry of fur and fangs. 

“Oh great,” Sayu groaned. “More yokai. And tanuki this time. Figures.” 

“Should I use my Jumpty Dumpties?” Clara asked hopefully. 

“No,” Ami said, and then zapped both the fighting animals, which yipped and spun to face her, both of them growling. She squatted down, eyeing both of them. “Look, if you’re both yokai, we can forgive you, this time. But you can’t go around stealing things. Yae started the same way though, and now she’s training to be the head Shrine Maiden. We can probably find a job for you two as well. And a bath.”

The girl popped back into humanoid form, glaring at Ami. “Yeah? Are you saying we stink or something!?” 

“You do smell pretty ripe,” her brother said, shifting back as well. He smirked at her, then bowed his head to Ami. “Please don’t tell your mom! I don’t know very much, but, uh, I think it would be a real bad idea to pick a fight with the Raiden Shogun.”

“It’s not my mom you have to worry about, it’s me,” Ami said, feeling a twinge of irritation. Then she sighed. “We could still have a duel though. Not inside though, we don’t want to wreck the store.”

“Yeah? And if I win, I get all your food and your clothes! They’re cuter than mine,” the girl said, grinning at Ami and displaying an overly large set of canines. 

“Sis, don’t be stupid! She’s like, rich!” her brother whispered, his voice comically loud. “If we listen to her, we can like, get into her house! Then we take all her food and clothes and stuff!” 

“I can still hear you, you know,” Ami said in irritation.

“What?! But you’re just a dumb human, they have terrible hearing!” the girl said in shock. 

“Yes, but I’m the Prinzessen des Blitzen. I am no mere mortal,” Ami said with a smirk of her own. 

“Shit, she’s got us there. So why don’t we just beat her up and take her stuff?” the filthy girl urged. Then let out a yip when a massive claymore rested gently on her neck. 

“Because my name is Sayu Nana, of the Shuumatsuban. And I am entrusted with protecting this moron. If you even so much as harm one hair on her head, I will end you. And quickly, because it’s past nap time.”

“You tell ‘em, Tanuki!” Clara said gleefully. 

“Tanuki?” the boy said, and two fuzzy ears popped up on top of his head. “Are you a tanuki too?”

“No, that’s just my code name,” Sayu said, sounding exasperated. “Though if you sully the good name of Tanuki, I’ll have to kick your butts on principle.” 

“Look, if you agree to serve my mother, I’ll buy you all these snacks, and some clean clothes,” Ami offered. 

“DEAL!” both of the tanuki said immediately. 

After that, they took the two Tanuki to a nearby hotel and had them shower and change into clothes that Ami purchased for them.The two yokai gorged themselves on all the junk food that Ami could buy, alongside Ami, Sayu, and Clara, who were hungry teenagers themselves.

“So what are your names?” Clara asked curiously as they chowed down on instant ramen. 

“I’m Sis and he’s Bro,” the girl said. 

“That’s not a name,” Ami told them. “You have to have names. Yae had a name.” 

“There were just two of us who survived the litter, so I was Bro and she was Sis,” the boy said with a shrug. Now that he had bathed and changed into something that hadn’t come out of a dumpster, he was actually kind of cute Ami supposed, if you were into kemonomimi. 

“Well, that won’t do. I shall give you proper names,” Ami declared. 

“You can’t just give people names!” the girl protested. 

“I’m an Imperial Princess. I can do what I please,” Ami sniffed. 

“Wait…so you’re really Her daughter? The one who gave me this so I could turn into a person?” the girl asked, holding up her Electro Vision. 

“Yeah, so at least be respectful. I got mine from someone else but even I’m not stupid enough to pick a fight with the God of the Yokai,” her brother said. 

“Hmm,” Ami tapped her chin, then nodded. She pointed first to the girl. “You shall be Stelle! And you shall be Caelus!”

“Ooo, good names,” Clara said, clapping happily. 

For the tanuki’s part, they had gasped and dropped their food, making a bit of a mess on the floor, dazed expressions on their faces. Ami had felt…something…when she had named them. Was it a sort of magic?

“Stelle. I’m…a star?” the girl said slowly, looking down at her greasy hands. 

“Yeah, well, uh, I’m like, a sky spirit, so there,” her brother said, but he was examining himself as well. 

Just then, Ami’s phone vibrated. She checked it, then jolted upright, wiping her hands on her sweatpants and feeling underdressed. Kimonos were pretty, but they weren’t very practical for cross-country biking. “She’s here!” 

“The Shogun!?” Stelle and Caelus cried, and both immediately bolted for the window, turning into tanuki as they went. 

“No, you idiots. Yae Miko. The kitsune,” Sayu growled as a gust of wind slammed shut their escape.

The two tanuki paused, slowly turning to face the three girls, cocking their heads to one side. 

“Yae’s funny and cute, you’ll like her. I bet she brought WcDonalds, it's her favorite,” Clara commented. 

Instantly, both tanuki assumed their human forms again. “”Why didn’t you say so?! We’d do anything for WcDonalds!””

 They stepped outside the inn as a long black limousine pulled up. A moment later, a priest stepped out, who unrolled a small carpet before the door  before opening it. Out of the limo stepped Yae Miko. She looked a little older now, though still like a chubby little kid. Despite that, her ornate ceremonial robes and headdress were pristine, and she had her nose up in the air, tails swishing behind her. 

“Greetings, Princess Ami. I have come to answer your summons. Where are the new yokai for me to supervise?” Miko demanded imperiously, a smug smile on her face, along with a bright red smear.  

Ami reached up, brushing her cheek, and Yae frowned at her. “You, uh, you have some ketchup, right there, Yae…”

Blushing furiously, the kitsune girl spun about, hastily scrubbing her face before slowly turning back around. Unfortunately, her efforts had smudged her makeup slightly, so she looked even more ridiculous now. “Thank you, Princess. Now, where are the yokai?”

Stelle and Caelus swaggered forward, baseball bats propped on their shoulders. “We’re Stelle and Caelus.”

“Caelus and Stelle! We’re the Tanuki Twins!” Caelus said, adjusting his waistband and grinning smugly down at Yae. “Didn’t think they’d send a little girl to pick us up.”

Yae’s eyebrow twitched. “Little girl? Boy, I will have you know, I am the preferred pet of the Raiden Shogun, and the High Miko of Narukami Shrine. I’m second only to the Emperor as the head of the Shinto Religion. Show some respect to your elders.”

“Pff, elders? You’re a kit! We’re adults,” Stelle said smugly, bending over to condescending pet Yae on the head, which made her other eyebrow twitch. 

“So, you think me a child?” Yae growled, and her eyes began to glow. “Little Tanuki. You know nothing of this world.”

“Oh boy,” Sayu groaned. “Here we go again.”

“Pff, what are you going to do, kick our shins?” Caelus snorted. 

“Yeah, you’re so tiny, we could…we could…” Stelle trailed off, her eyes growing wide as dark mist began to fill the afternoon air, darkening the sky.

“That’s…that’s just an illusion. Tricks! Ha ha, the little girl thinks she can scare us,” Caelus scoffed, but he sounded rather nervous, stepping closer to his sister and bringing his bat up.

“Oh children. You have been naughty,” Yae’s voice chuckled, suddenly deeper as she vanished into the mist. “I think it’s time for your punishment.”

“Bring it on! There’s two of us and one of you, and we’re bigger!” Stelle cried, raising her bat and swishing it about to drive back the mist. 

ARE YOU?

The deep rumbling voice caused the two tanuki to cry out in fear, dropping their bats as they clung to each other in panic. A massive beast of dark flames with two lashing tails stomped out of the mists, circling the tanuki siblings as purple flames licked about them. 

LITTLE YOKAI. SO IGNORANT. I HAVE STUDIED WITH THE RAIDEN SHOGUN, THE GOD OF THE YOKAI. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? BURGLED A FEW MORTALS? PATHETIC. 

“W-we’re sorry Miss Kitsune!” Stelle sobbed. 

“P-please don’t eat us!” Caelus wailed, clutching his sister tightly. 

DO YOU SUBMIT? The giant kitsune growled, its maw dribbling sparks as it loomed over the weeping tanuki. DO YOU SWEAR TO SERVE ME, AND THE RAIDEN SHOGUN?

“We swear!” the tanuki wept, and prostrated themselves before the horror. 

Instantly, the mist vanished, and the giant beast was revealed to be nothing more than a smug looking Yae Miko as she smirked down at the kowtowing yokai at her feet. “Very good. I have uses for a pair of servants. Though I suppose you’ll have to be house broken first.”

Yae turned to Ami and bowed. “Thank you once more, Princess. We’ve been trying to locate these two for weeks with all the trouble they’ve caused. I am in your debt.”

“All in a day's work for the Prinzessen des Blitzen,” Ami said, posing dramatically with one hand to her eyepatch. “Keep these two troublemakers in line. Tend now to your duties, and I shall to mine. Until we meet again.” 

Blinking, Caelus and Stelle were sitting up now, looking dazed. 

“She…she tricked us!” Caelus cried in outrage. 

“That smirking little fox demon!” Stelle growled, reaching for her bat. 

“Now, now, children. Do you need further…convincing?” Yae asked, her eyes suddenly glowing as her twin tails grew in size and lashed violently. 

“”No, we are your humble servants!”” the twins wailed, prostrating themselves again. 

“Very good. Now come. If you behave yourselves, I’ll let you have some of my leftover fries,” Yae decreed, and stepped up to the limo, where the priest hastily put down a step stool for her. 

After a moment, the two tanuki hesitantly looked up, until a chubby little hand extended out with a pair of french fries. “Come come, my pets. Or do you not like fries?”

“MINE!” Stelle shouted, leaping for the door and bowling Yae over with a squeak. 

“NO, MINE!” her brother shouted. 

The priest hastily shut the door behind them, then climbed back in. The limo drove away, but Ami could just make out a pink fox battling furiously with a pair of raccoon dogs over a spilled bag of french fries in the window. 

“Well. That was something else,” Sayu sighed, shaking her head. “At least they’re not our headache now.”

“Can we just take a car the rest of the way now? We had our adventure,” Clara asked.

Ami considered it, then nodded. “Yeah, my butt is still sore. We can have another adventure later, right now I’m tired and want to go home. Let’s just get this over with.”

It was still an adventure, as when Ami asked for a car, the locals just gave her one. She had only driven in Mario Kart before, and Sayu was too short for her feet to reach the pedals, so Clara ended up being the one to drive when she assured them she knew how. 

“I’m an expert! I built a car one time, you know. And it only blew up a little!” 

“Uh, I’m not sure how confident that should make us,” Sayu pointed out from the back seat, as Ami had insisted on royal privilege to get shotgun. Sayu hadn’t complained much, sprawling across, arm over her eyes in a half-napping state.

“Mistress, I cannot help but think this is not a wise idea. Surely we could find a chauffeur,” Murasaki said nervously from his own seat in the back. “Or I could fly you there myself.”

“It’s fine, she didn’t build this car,” Ami pointed out, and then was pressed back in her seat as the cackling Clara peeled out of the parking stall like she was qualifying for the Suzuka 1000. 

They made it about 100 km before a policeman pulled them over, looking outraged. “Did you girls steal your parent’s car?!”

“No, she’s Lightning Princess Ami, we just borrowed it,” Clara said.

The police officer paled, apologized, then firmly insisted that they all get into his cruiser so that he could drive them the rest of the way. Sayu and Murasaki immediately agreed, and Ami felt it would have been rude to contradict them.

Besides, Clara’s driving scared her. Her friend seemed to believe that speed limits were just suggestions, and what really mattered was what your car's maximum speed was. The number of times she’d nearly careened off the side of a mountain road had left even Ami breathless. 

After that, unfortunately, her trip was official. It was still kind of fun, as the mayor of Aomori and all his officials came out to greet Ami, and they had a small impromptu parade, with plenty of people cheering for them when Ami jumped on top of the roof and posed for them, traffic having been halted to make way for the royal motorcade.

 Instead of taking the ferry, they got a private yacht to deliver them to Hakodate, where Ami fully embraced this event as an Imperial Procession , and regaled her devoted fans with only mildly (for her) inflated accounts of their battle with the Terrible Tanuki Twins, and how Ami had successfully bound them to the mortal world by naming them. 

After that, they spend the next five days journeying through Hokkaido, stopping at every town and village to bless the shrines and populace, and sign autographs and take pictures with fans. Ami made sure to promise that they would stand fast with Hokkaido against the threat of Russia, which confused some as Russia hadn’t been a threat to anyone in years. 

But Ami could sense a chill wind blowing from that land now. She warned everyone that the Mother Bear was waking up, and Japan would need to be prepared. To her surprise, when she told the adults that, they took her seriously, and several police captains asked her about forming a militia. 

“This is a matter for the gods,” she told them. “My family will handle this.”

They believed that too, bowing to her and thanking her. Several even asked if this was connected to the arrival of the Cryo Archon, as everyone knew that such Visions had begun to appear. 

At last, they arrived at the Hokumon Shrine, where a bald old man in purple monk’s robes waited for them. Upon seeing Ami, he prostrated himself.

“If my life is required by the Raiden Shogun, here is my neck, my lady. You may have this head, for I have already failed my lady once.”

“Arise, Uncle. I’ve missed you,” Ami said softly and reached down to gently pull the old man up. When he was on his knees, Ami embraced him, tears in her eyes. He had withered since departing her mother. Now it looked as though he didn’t shave his head, but that his hair had fallen out. He had once been slightly tubby, but now he was thin to the point of malnorishment. Where his clothes had once been fine, now he wore tattered robes that smelled as though they were rarely washed. 

“I remember when you would tell me stories, Uncle, and how much you did for my mother. Before…before your mistake.”

“I led you astray. You nearly fought Lord Barbatos,” Kenichi said bitterly, but he gave Ami a gentle squeeze anyway. “Why have you come, child?”

“My mother does not forget, but she can forgive. You are still banished, but you still have a task that you can perform to serve Eternity,” Ami told Kenichi.

The hope that filled the old man’s eyes nearly broke Ami’s heart. She was reminded again of her solemn duty: She had the power of life and death with a word, and only seeing how her words had revitalized her uncle, did the nascent godling now realize how she might have forever altered the fate of Caelus and Stelle by Naming them. Swallowing, she said, “You are to go to the people of Korea, and ask them if they wish to Embrace Eternity.”

Kenichi froze for a moment, his jaw dropping open. Then he swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down. “But… Raiden is the God of Japan.”

“She is. But Korea finds itself trapped between the lands of two gods, and soon, my mother fears that Dantalion of Russia will stretch out a greedy hand to conquer them. You heard my mother’s stories of the Fatui, and what they did to her old land of Inazuma in their greedy quest. My mother would have given them Heaven’s Poisoned Gift had they but asked, but they resorted to vile treachery and sedition. She has come to care for the people of Korea and has promised to shelter them in time of need. Now, they must decide if they love her enough to choose her as their god.” 

“But the Koreans are…” Kenichi struggled, his face turning red as his mouth worked. 

“Do you question my mother’s will? Or are you still the faithful servant you claim to be?” Ami demanded hotly. She had no patience for her people’s prejudices against other nations, especially not since her Uncle Mushu was half Chinese and Clara was half German. Even Sayu was basically half-American, even if both her parents were native Japanese.

“I…I serve the Raiden Shogun,” Kenichi said, bowing his head. “I will go to Korea, and tell them of the Shogun’s generous offer.”

“Make it in good faith, Uncle. This is your last chance,” Ami warned. 

Kenichi chuckled bitterly. “I tried to interpret the will of the Shogun once. No more. I will be a faithful messenger.”

“Good,” Ami said, and kissed his forehead, a small spark of energy transferring between them. “Go now, with my blessing.” 

With that, Kenichi arose and left, trudging off across the snow and ice without care or preparation.

“Shouldn’t we like, give him some money or something?” Sayu whispered to Ami.

“Don’t ruin the dramatic moment of it!” Ami hissed. Then she sighed. “Murasaki…”

“I will see to the logistics, and ensure Master Kenichi has adequate supplies for his journey,” her familiar promised, and Ami grinned. 

Sometimes, being a princess was awesome.

Author’s Note:

I know I said I wouldn’t put in any more Star Rail characters, but, well, Rules Were Made to Be Broken. And there aren’t any playable Tanuki in Genshin. So, I found the nearest approximation. 

PHILO: Good ol’ Murasaki. The lynchpin of dramatic moments. Pray to the Lightning Princess Ami for success in the fantastic and bombastic, but do not forget to pay tribute to her Servant, the Kirin Murasaki, for help in the logistics.

Work Smarter, Not Harder: Party Swapping Chapter 4

For the next ten days, things were about as close to perfect as they got for Kazuma and his band of misfits. Having Rin around to help ride herd on their cats was a godsend. 

“Look, Darkness, Dust, I don’t care how much fun you think it would be, you can’t just stir up an entire nest of griffins!” Rin said in disgust when those two wanted to go fight something “with teeth,” despite griffins being literally toothless thanks to their beaks. 

“But they could be a threat to the countryside, and it is our duty to defend the people of this town!” Darkness protested, practically salivating at the idea. She had on her normal armor and was still carrying her sword, though Kazuma also noted she’d gotten a pair of spiked gauntlets perfect for punching things to death, which he knew from experience she was much better at. 

For his part, Dust looked far sharper than normal, as Darkness had insisted on dressing him up in the best armor Axel had. It wasn’t as ornate as hers, but he had on rather serviceable mail and leathers in red and white, and was wielding a spear now instead of a sword. He’d not been bad with a sword before, but from what Kazuma had seen he was terrifying with a spear. 

“Come on Rin, it’ll be fun! And we can get some griffin feathers for Kazuma so he can make you a new cloak! And maybe something for us too!” 

Rin flushed at the mention of new clothes, but wagged a finger under Dust’s nose. “Do you have any idea what killing all the apex predators in the area would do to the ecological balance?! If you had two brain cells in your head, you’d realize that we’d be crawling in their main prey: hawkites! And what do hawkites like to eat?!”

“Uh…” Dust trailed off and looked to Darkness, who blushed. 

“Ah, they tend to trample farmer’s fields and eat their produce,” Darkness admitted. “That would be rather detrimental to the people of this area.”

“Not to mention that killing all the griffons would probably just invite in something worse,” Rin added, foolishly. Well, she wasn’t that experienced with Darkness wrangling yet. 

“R-really?!” Darkness asked eagerly, but Kazuma smacked her upside the back of her head. 

“Or it could collapse the ecosystem entirely, and you’d end up with NO strong monsters to fight!” he told her, which calmed Darkness down considerably. 

“Well, perhaps instead, we could take on this nest of Giant Ants! With but a SINGLE EXPLOSION, I could decimate the entire army!” Megumin declared, waving around a flier herself.

“Indeed, I could draw them out with Darkness' help, and then Kazuma, Keith, and Dust could pick off the stranglers,” Taylor agreed. “I’ve drawn up a strategic plan for the most optimal way to use Megumin’s Explosion for maximum effect, thereby funneling her the most experience possible.”

“Give me that,” Rin snapped, snatching the paper out of Taylor’s hands and stepping over to show it to Kazuma. They examined it together, and Kazuma groaned. 

“Seriously? This looks like a good way to get killed,” Kazuma complained. “You want to lure the ants out of the nest?!”

“And you assume Megumin’s Explosion will kill the queens- WHICH IT WON’T!” Rin snapped. 

“My Explosion is the most powerful spell known, with its might I can-”

“Blow up everything on the surface, yes, but the queens are buried dozens or even a hundred meters below the surface! Your spell can’t penetrate that deeply!” Rin snapped.

“The tremors could collapse the tunnels,” Taylor pointed out. He was becoming as bad as Megumin was. 

Shaking his head in exasperation, Kazuma said, “No, no, no! That’s not how you kill an ant nest at all! You’ve got to pour some sort of flammable liquid or gas into them, then set it off. Don’t get that excited look on your face! If we did that, we’d make a boom so big it would wipe out Axel from the earthquake!”

“You…you really think so?” Megumin asked dreamily. 

“And you too! So no, we’re NOT taking that plan,” Rin said firmly. She peered at the board, then selected a much more reasonable quest to hunt some giant frogs. “We’ll do this one instead.”

“Noooo! Not the giant frogs!” Aqua wailed. “They’re so stinky!” 

“I-I would not mind being in the front line against the frogs,” Darkness said, salivating slightly. 

“Hmph. I suppose they are decent experience,” Megumin grudgingly admitted. “So long as we gather them together.”

“And Kazuma can cook us a delicious meal of frog legs when we’re done, and the bounty is extra juicy. So you can buy extra bubbly, Aqua,” Rin cajoled the weepy goddess.

“You…you mean it? Ok! Bubbly and fried frog for everyone!” Aqua said happily, and they set out on the quest. 

The frog hunt turned out to be rather easier than Kazuma was used to, mostly because Rin’s party had some actual firepower. If anything, their problem was that while Taylor was a good enough tank, Rin, Dust, and Keith were all DPS, so their party lacked utility or healing options, which Kazuma had in abundance. With his clever use of Command Performance to imitate a bleating goat, he was able to lure the frogs into a killing zone, where Megumin blew 10 to unusable smithereens, and then they harvested eight more to satisfy the quest requirements. Hauling the meat back was a pain, but between their meatheads in Darkness, Taylor, and Dust, it was a breeze. 

They arrived back at the guild to deliver their load of frog meat, only for a cloaked figure to step out of an alleyway and block their progress. The apparition pointed an ominous hand at Darkness and Dust, throwing back her hood to reveal a familiar blonde. “Halt! You are requested and required to answer before the Throne at Her Highness’ pleasure.

“The Suit,” Kazuma growled, glaring at Claire, who glared right back at him. He turned to Darkness, who had straightened at the appearance of one of Princess Iris’ retainers. “What did you do?”

“Hey, why do you think she did anything?” Dust demanded, glaring at Kazuma. Then he dropped his voice and whispered, “Babe, what did we do? Who’s this? Do you owe money to someone again? Cause, uh, I’ve got a few debts but, uh not like that…”

“We will go at once,” Darkness said, putting a reassuring hand on Dust’s arm. 

“Very well,” Claire agreed. “Come, I have a teleport ready for you.”

“Now hold on just a second!” Rin said, stepping forward. “I don’t know who you are, but you can’t just haul off Dust and Darkness without a warrant! They have rights!” 

Claire fixed Rin with a flat look. “This is none of your concern. Do not attempt to impede this summons, it is a matter of national security.”

Rin bristled, but Kazuma sighed heavily. “Rin, it’s fine, that’s just Claire.” 

“Just Claire?! She’s in the uniform of a Royal Officer! Darkness, tell her who you really are, so you don’t get arrested!” Rin said frantically. 

“Rin…Claire is my cousin. I visited her family estates often as a girl, and she mine,” Darkness sighed. 

“Unlike some people, I don’t waste my time with commoners gallivanting about the countryside. Some of us have important work to do,” Claire sniffed. “It’s time for you to put aside that and attend to your duties, Lalatina.”

“Oh come off it, Claire. Did my Lil Sis send you? Don’t tell me she sent you all the way over here for Darkness and didn’t even ask about me,” Kazuma needled. 

Claire looked like she was sucking lemons, while Rin mouthed “lil sis” with wide eyes. 

“Her Highness also indicated there was an invitation for you and the rest of your party as well,” Claire spat, her lip curling in distaste. “But really, this matter just concerns-”

“Super, so that means all eight of us are going to the Capital,” Kazuma said with his best shit-eating grin. 

“Eight!?” Claire’s eyes wandered over the rest. “You mean this riffraff?”

Kazuma bristled at that, but Darkness interrupted. “We have joined our two parties together, Sir Cheruka and I. You may consider them our retainers.” 

“They don’t look like proper servants,” Claire sneered, but she relented. “Fine. I have two royal mages on standby for the spells. Come at once, her Highness is most anxious to speak with you.”

“Fine, but we gotta drop off this toad meat and then stop by the mansion first, we’re filthy,” Kazuma said.

“This is a royal summons!” Claire bristled. “On the likely chance your education failed you, ‘at her highness’ pleasure’ means right now!  You are urgently required at-”

“Oh back off Suit. You’d make snide remarks about us smelling like frog guts for weeks if we saw my Lil Sis like this. We’ll go get changed, you bring the mages to our place and we can just teleport from there,” Kazuma told her. 

Claire gritted her teeth, but jerked a nod. “...very well. I will see you there, Sato.” 

“Right. Keith, Taylor, you two haul the frog meat to the guild. Don’t haggle about the price too hard, we’re on a timetable. Then hustle back and clean up, we’re going on a field trip,” Kazuma told them. 

“Wait, are you really going to the castle? I, uh, I don’t know that I got the clothes for that,” Keith prevaricated, looking rather nervous. 

“Eh it’s fine, unlike Miss Snooty here my Lil Sis is a chill bro. She won’t judge. We’ll get you some proper duds if we’re sticking around the Capitol long,” Kazuma assured him. 

“Her Highness is not a ‘chill bro!’” Claire snarled, sticking a finger in Kazuma’s chest. “I have been trying for MONTHS to get her to unlearn that vulgar slang you insist on teaching her! I swear, if you so much as teach her one more phrase I will-”

“Relax, fam. We gonna go back to the hizzle and get our new flash. Then we gonna be illin’ it up at the- WHOOP!” 

Claire tried to karate chop Kazuma, but he ducked under it and spirited off. “DAMN YOU KAZUMA SATO, DO NOT TEACH MY PRECIOUS IRIS MORE OF YOUR FILTHY PEASANT TALK!” 

Fortunately, Claire didn’t chase Kazuma so he slowed to the walk as the others caught up to him. 

“Ok, time out,” Rin panted, having run up to him with the rest of the girls and Dust. “Lil Sis!? Your little sister you’ve been telling me about is IRIS STYLISH SWORD BELZERG!?”

“Keep it down, you’re going to ruin my street cred,” Kazuma whispered, making a shushing gesture with both hands. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. She probably just wants a play date or something, it’s been a while since we visited.”

Rin gave Kazuma an exasperated look, then put her head in her hands. “We’re going on a royal visit! I don’t have anything to wear! What am I going to DO!?” 

Putting his arm around Rin, Kazuma tried his best to console her. “It’s fine! Iris is a sweet girl, she won’t make a big deal out of it!” 

“You can borrow one of my dresses,” Megumin piped up, having been transferred to Aqua’s back. “Unlike some people, you have a more reasonable build, and thus should fit my clothes without too much trouble.” 

Rin shot Megumin a grateful look. “Thanks, but we’d have to poke a hole for my tail, and I don’t want to ruin one of your nice dresses.” 

“Make Kazuma do it then, and you can keep the dress and pay me back sometime. I too understand what it is like for someone who grew up with less than three sets of clothes to my name, and nothing to wear to a royal appointment,” Megumin said consolingly. 

Rin and Megumin chatted all the way back to the mansion, then hustled off to try on clothes, while Kazuma hastily washed and picked out his fanciest duds to change into. He always hated putting on the monkey suit with the stupidly large collar. It wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was hard to move around in, and it made him look ridiculous in his own opinion. 

He was just about to pull on his hose when Rin hurried into the room, carrying one of Megumin’s nicer dresses from previous visits to the capital. “Kazuma, quick, can you modify this for my tail? I know I’m a lot taller than Megumin, but it’s my only hope! There’s no way I could ever fit into one of Darkness or Aqua’s dresses with their bust sizes!” 

“Sure, bring me my sewing kit,” Kazuma said, taking the dress from Rin. She hurried over to the dresser and grabbed his kit as he sat down on the bed in just his underwear. “Take off your clothes though, I’m going to need to try this on you. I’ll probably have to do a few modifications to make it fit, did you try it on already?” 

“You just want to see me naked,” Rin accused, but she was already shucking off her clothes as hastily as she could, kicking them towards the laundry hamper then scrambling back to his side. 

“Stand there,” Kazuma told her, then held the dress up to her. “Hmm, you’ve got a good 15cm on Megumin. Well, it’ll just have to be a shorter skirt on you, we can claim that’s fashionable or whatever.”

“I tested it, it’s knee length on me which is a bit scandalous but it’s summer, so hopefully it will be alright?” Rin asked anxiously, peering down as Kazuma measured the dress. 

“I’ve seen Darkness wear knee-length dresses at the palace so it’s fine,” Kazuma said absently, his fingers flying as he activated his Tailoring skill. “The real issue is this tail, hmmm…”

“Are…are there many beastkin at court?” Rin asked nervously. “M-maybe I should just hide it…”

“Fuck that, you’re my girlfriend and if they have a problem with it they can lump it,” Kazuma said with a snort. “Right, just a cut here, and some stitching…and a few adjustments to the hem…”

Rin watched nervously as Kazuma sat back down and altered the dress. This was rather complicated, and even with his skill it would take a few minutes. “Why don’t you go wash off and I’ll have this done by the time you get out of the bath?” 

“Ok, ok, I have to do my hair!” Rin said frantically, then ran out of the room.

Kazuma shrugged, as he figured Rin’s hair looked fine as it was, but didn’t argue. He took a bit of extra time to make the dress more expertly tailored to Rin’s figure, which he was now intimately familiar with. He blushed a little thinking about it, but maintained his focus. 

He was just putting on the finishing touches when Rin hurried back in, looking freshly scrubbed and with her hair done up in an ornate braid instead of the usual messy ponytail. “Hey, you look nice,” he commented. 

“I don’t need to look nice, I need to look fantastic! This is the princess! Will she exile me if I look like a schlubby commoner!?” Rin panted. 

“Then you’ll look just like me, except much nicer because I have to wear this clown suit. Help me put it on, will you? This thing is a bitch and a half to get on,” Kazuma said, grimacing and picking up the red hose.

Rin helped him quickly dress, though she muttered about how impractical the whole ensemble was. “How are you supposed to move with this stupidly oversized dog collar on?!”

“I know, right? Makes it really damn hard to eat too, which is a shame because they have a great spread at all the balls and stuff. I’m always worried I’m going to drop some food in the damn thing and ruin it, and it’s pricey! Why can’t they wear something more practical!?”

“How am I going to afford this?!” Rin wailed, and suddenly burst into tears, squatting down and putting her head in her hands.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Kazuma said, squatting down with Rin. “It’s a royal summons. They probably have another General for us to face off with. The bounty on those is huge, you’ll be as rich as I am after this!”

“I just…I don’t know if I can do this, Kazuma. I’m a beastkin girl from Spoke! That’s almost as backwards as Axel!” Rin hiccuped, scrubbing at her face as Kazuma rubbed her back. “I don’t know how to talk to princesses, or have royal audiences, or live in mansions! I…I thought you were just a normal guy, but you call the Princess Lil Sis and you’re rich and famous and-”

“Rin, you do realize I’m a lowborn foreigner, right?” Kazuma interrupted, feeling frustrated. Why was she getting all weepy? This wasn’t a big deal. “And I’m not one of those foreigners with a stupidly OP cheat item like Mitsurugi. Hell, before I came here, I was a shut in NEET with parents who were freaking accountants at a small grocery store chain!” 

Blinking up at Kazuma, Rin frowned. “NEET? Wait, you were a shut-in whose parents were grocers?”

“Uh, basically. I, um, I was sort of the family disappointment,” Kazuma admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “I just…I didn’t want to be a corporate wage slave and have my life just be this boring little patter where I ground away at a dead-end job 60 hours a week, came home to a wife that didn’t love me, and kids that didn’t know me. So…I ran away from it all. That’s…well, that’s sort of how I ended up here.”

Rin considered that, then hiccuped and slowly stood up. “Do…do you have a hankie?”

Kazuma got her one, and Rin blew her nose, and then cleaned her face. “Sorry, I just…this is a lot. I always thought I’d spend most of my life as a part-timer adventurer until I got too old or too injured, then take one of those boring jobs teleporting people or using magic to keep food cold on caravans or something. I never dreamed…”

“Yeah, I admit, I never thought it would happen to me either,” Kazuma admitted. He held out a hand to Rin. “Wanna come along for the ride anyway?” 

Rin took Kazuma’s hand, and he pulled her into a hug. “Yes. At least it won’t be boring.”

“I could do with some boring,” Kazuma said dryly. 

That made Rin laugh. “No you couldn’t! I’ve seen you whine and complain about quests for a year now, but you always end up going on the most insane ones and even volunteering for suicide missions. Heck, you even actually died a few times! The Scumzuma I know would bitch and moan every step of the way about going on an Adventure, but be the first one who volunteered for it and have the time of his life while doing it.”

“Hey, you’re not allowed to have my number that well,” Kazuma muttered, feeling naked despite how overdressed he was. 

“I’m your girlfriend, silly. It’s my job to have your number down better than you do. Now help me into this dress, we don’t want to keep royalty waiting.”

About two hours after Claire’s summons, everyone was ready to go. Keith and Taylor were dressed in clean and acceptable clothes that were not even close to the high fashion of the court, which made Kazuma jealous as their outfits looked way more comfortable. Dust, on the other hand, was in an even more ornate and overdone getup than Kazuma, with giant puffy sleeves and an even bigger lace collar. Infuriatingly, he moved naturally in it like he’d been born to it, which if what he claimed was true he probably had been. 

The girls were all in the fancy dress Kazuma had come to expect during visits to the capital, but unless he missed his guess, Megumin was padding her bra. Not as much as Eris did, but she clearly was advertising goods that she didn’t have. Maybe Taylor didn’t mind pads either. 

“Are you all finally ready to go?” Claire demanded, tapping her foot impatiently in the sitting room. 

“We are, make with the teleporting,” Kazuma said with a regal nod to Claire. 

Rin clutched at Kazuma’s arm as the two royal mages chanted, looking slightly giddy.

“You've, uh, teleported before, right?” Kazuma whispered to her. 

“Yes, of course! I’ve been to the capital too, but these are Royal Mages! The best of the best! I used to dream I’d master Advanced Magic and join their ranks, but I ran out of tuition before I was even close to enough skill points.”

“Eh you’re a plenty good mage, I bet you could kick their ass,” Kazuma told her. 

Rin smiled at him, but shook her head. Then they were wrapped in a blue glow, and a moment later, the mansion was replaced by the teleportation circle in the castle courtyard.

Kazuma stepped out, nodding to one of the servants who was waiting for them. “Sebastian.”

“Ah, you and your little jokes, Master Sato. Once more, my name is Heidel.”

Rin was looking around, awe-struck, her tail wagging slightly. Keith and Taylor were gaping even more openly, though Megumin tugged on Taylor’s arm and he shut his mouth quickly enough. 

“Ah, welcome back, Lady Claire,” Sebastian said, bowing to the suit. “And Lady Dustiness. We’ve been expecting you. Her Highness is waiting in her private solar for you.”

“Thank you, Heidel. Right this way,” Claire said, and led the way not through the front entrance, but through a side door. Then it was through back corridors and hallways to Iris’ chambers, Rin clutched at Kazuma’s arm all the while and her eyes as wide as teacups as she stared at all the finery around them. Kazuma took it all in stride, though he had to admit he felt like a big man getting to give Rin a tour of the Royal Palace. 

“Don’t let Iris intimidate you,” Kazuma whispered to Rin. “Or more specifically, don’t let Claire intimidate you. Iris is a sweetie.”

“She’s also a Belzerg with the legendary blade Caliber! How can you NOT be intimidated by that?” Rin hissed back with a smile on her face, her right eye twitching slightly and her tail as stiff and bristly as a broom. 

“Relax. I love you, so Lil Sis will too,” Kazuma said, patting her arm. 

“Now is not the time to drop the ‘I love you!’ we’ve only been dating a week, we-”

“Introducing Lady Dustiness, Sir Kazuma Sato, Sir Rein Cheruka, Lady Aqua of the Axis Cult, and Miss Megumin of the Crimson Demon Clan, and guests,” ‘Sebastian’ said.

“Thank you, Heidel,” Rin said, looking like a raccoon in the headlights as they were led into Iris’ opulent solar. 

The room looked as it always did, with gilded walls hung with giant portraits of Iris and her family, lush carpets, and a massive four-poster bed that Kazuma knew from experience was perfect for playing cards on. Iris herself was sitting on one of her velvet white couches, looking as pristine as ever in her silken white gowns. She looked like the very model of regal royalty, serene and calm.

Then she promptly revealed who she truly was by bouncing up onto her feet and running over to throw her arms around Kazuma’s waist with a cry of “Big Bro!” 

“Hey squirt, have you gotten taller, or did they just buy you bigger shoes?” Kazuma said, mussing Iris’ perfectly coiffed hair so that the stubborn ahoge poked up. She grinned at him, even as Claire made several strangled noises and Rin and her party looked like their eyes would bug out of their heads. Kazuma nodded to the other woman in the room. 

“What up, Rain? Long time no see.”

“It is good to see you again as well, Master Sato,” Rain said, bowing and smiling to him. 

“Kazuma! Who is this woman on your arm?” Iris gasped, letting go of him to study Rin. 

“Oh this is the sanest woman in Axel, and my girlfriend, Rin,” Kazuma said. “Rin, this is my Lil Sis, Iris.”

 “I-It is an honor to meet you, your majesty,” Rin stammered bowing low. 

Iris pursed her lips, glanced at Claire, then grinned wickedly. 

“Your Highness,” Claire groaned, but it was too late. 

“For shizzel my Rinzle. It is quite excellent to meet my bro’s homies. You are all welcome to stay here in my crib for the next few days. I must attain the deets from Cousin Tina and her new squeeze.”

The slang didn’t sound quite right coming from Iris, who maintained her excellent elocution and diction that sounded completely out of place when she popped in the street slang. But it did have the desired effect of turning Claire purple as she shot death glares at Kazuma. 

“Ha! It is been too long since we have seen one another, my young apprentice!” Megumin said, shoving Kazuma and Rin aside and planting herself in front of the princess. “Tell me, have you continued your training? What sign of our quarry?”

Iris dropped to one knee as Rain sighed in exasperation, then put a binding spell on Claire to prevent her from dive-tackling Megumin. 

“There have been no signs of our prey, master, but I remain ever vigilant, and maintain my nightly training regimes.”

“You said you’d stopped leaving the castle!” Claire half sobbed, and Rain looked disapproving as well.

“I said I’d stop putting myself in danger. And since no one in the Capital is capable of defeating me, I’m not in any danger, now am I?” Iris said cheekily, rising back to her feet. Then she turned to Darkness, and her expression became serious. “As much as I would love to chat, I believe we have official business to discuss. Claire, show our guests to their chambers. I would speak with Cousin Tina and Sir Cheruka in private.”

“Woah, hold up, what’s going on?” Kazuma said, frowning at Dust and Darkness. “What did you two do?”

“Do not fear, Kazuma,” Darkness told him. “It is a matter of delicate international politics. I’m certain we will speak to you once we have laid out plans for her Highness.”

“Yeah, we just…” Dust choked up, and swallowed, his eyes watering. “Whatever it takes to get her back…”

That was cryptic as hell, but Darkness reassured Kazuma they were fine. Deciding he could pry any information he needed out of her or Iris later, he allowed Claire to lead them to their rooms, muttering imprecations not quite under her breath the entire time.

“If this works,  I’m going to have to trust you again, Sato, and I don’t like it. Don’t you dare drag her Highness into this,” Claire warned him. 

Unable to resist the chance to needle Claire, Kazuma grinned at her. “Aw come on, Suit. I dealt with Alderp and the Silver Masked Thief Brigade. This will be a breeze.” 

“I don’t know what you did about Alderp, but now that you’re back I swear if the Silver Masked Thief Shows up again, I’ll-”

“Woah, hold on, I already have a girlfriend. You’ll have to find someone else to swoon over,” Kazuma told her. Claire’s face went bright red, and Kazuma barely dragged Rin into his room and slammed the door in time.

“I WILL KILL YOU, SATO, IF YOU BREATHE A WORD OF THIS TO ANYONE!” Claire ranted, fists pounding on the door. 

“You know, for a noblewoman, she’s not very composed,” Kazuma told Rin, who was still wide-eyed and breathless. 

“She…she’s the Princess’ personal retainer. And you just…make her fly off the handle?” Rin asked, sounding dazed.

“To be fair, I tend to have that effect on people. It’s just deliberate with Claire,” Kazuma told her. 

Rin shook her head slowly. “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or just a moron.”

“Eh, they’re just people, it’s not a big deal. Trust me, you’ll love Iris, even if Claire is a bitch,” Kazuma told her, then tugged at his collar. “Ugh, help me get out of this monkey suit. Some of my regular clothes should be in the dresser.”

“You have regular quarters at the royal palace? What am I saying? The Princess acted like you were family. Of course you have regular quarters,” Rin muttered, shaking her head. She looked down at herself and sighed. “Well, at least this dress is nice. But I don’t exactly have a change of clothes.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kazuma went over and stuck his head out of the door. “Yo, Sebastian.”

“It’s Heidel, Master Kazuma.”

“Right. Anyway, send someone for Rin’s clothes back home, we’re staying for a while. Oh, and have the tailor send over some fabrics, she needs some fancy duds and we’ve got time to kill.”

“At once, Master Kazuma.”

“You’re the best, Sebastian.”

“Ha ha, you and your little jokes, Master Kazuma.”

Kazuma closed the door, only to find Rin scowling at him. “Why do you keep calling that poor man Sebastian? I didn’t think you were the type to be cruel to servants.”

“Honestly, it was a mistake the first time. In my homeland, the stereotypical name for butlers is Sebastian and he just looks like a Sebastian. After that, I just want to see if I can get him to crack. You know, drop that facade and actually chew me out. But that damn butler never lets his professional mask drop for even a moment! I’ll get him one day though.”

Rin rolled her eyes but smiled. “Try calling him Heidel. I bet you’ll make him jump.”

“Huh. Yeah, gotta mix it up sometimes,” Kazuma agreed, peeling out of his uncomfortable clothes and tossing them onto the floor.

“Kazuma! Don’t be a slob,” Rin lectured. “This isn’t your house!” 

“Eh, the maids will get it,” he told her, rummaging in the wardrobe for some of his more comfortable casual clothes.

“Well I’m not staying in a room that looks like a pigsty and I am most certainly not your maid. So don’t you even think of leaving your dirty underwear on the floor.”

Kazuma honestly never thought about it, he just sort of let his underwear fall where it may, and if he was at home, put it in the hamper when it was time to wash clothes and hauled it down then. However, when weighed against the prospect of spending the night with Rin, Kazuma found he suddenly cared very much about where his underwear ended up, and dutifully picked it up off the floor and put it in the hamper. Though not before whacking Rin with it. 

“Ack! Don’t be gross! Put those things away! You’re going to ruin my dress!” Rin protested, jerking away from the assault. 

“Eh the palace has a great laundry, don’t sweat it,” Kazuma told her. 

He changed into more comfortable clothes, and a few minutes later Heidel returned with a bundle of Rin’s clothes in one hand and an armload of fabric in the other. “As you requested, sir.”

“Thanks Heidel, you’re the best,” Kazuma told him, and studied the man for a response. 

To his amusement, Heidel teared up slightly. “I…You’re welcome, sir. Thank you for remembering my name.”

Then with a bow that seemed much more genuine, Heidel departed and Kazuma closed the door. 

“Right, ready to make me some nice clothes?” Rin asked, and Kazuma turned around. He paused, as Rin was now entirely naked, her tail swishing back and forth. 

“Well, I could do that, orrrr…” Kazuma said, trailing off. 

“Clothes first, then your reward. I am not going to be underdressed compared to that shrew in a suit,” Rin told him. 

That made Kazuma cackle, and he set about making Rin several sets of ornate gowns, and even a pantsuit. To his private amusement, he modeled the clothes after clothes he’d seen in various anime and period dramas over the years, so that Rin’s clothes were closer to cosplay than anything else. 

“Are you sure this is what the fashion is? Maybe we should have had the tailor send over some engravings,” Rin said, turning about in Princess Amelia’s pink frilly gown from Slayers TRY. 

“If it’s not the fashion before you wear it, it will be after everyone sees you in it,” Kazuma promised her, pulling her close as she giggled. 

“You pig, you really do only have one thing on your mind, don’t you?” Rin asked, then kissed him, pressing herself against Kazuma’s chest. 

Which was when there was a knock at the door. Kazuma and Rin hastily sprang apart, and Kazuma cleared his throat. “Uh, come in.”

Heidel poked his head in. “Master Kazuma, her Highness requests that you and your lady join her in the private dining room.”

“Uh, of course, at once. Lead on Seb-” Rin’s elbow connected with Kazuma’s gut, and he hastily corrected to, “Heidel.” 

“Being annoying to a stuck-up noble is one thing, picking on the poor servants is another. Heidel literally can’t fight back, because normally with people like you, it would be worth his job or his life to back talk,” Rin hissed at Kazuma as he rubbed his aching side. 

“I wouldn’t do that!” Kazuma complained. 

“And how does he know that? Because you can’t tell me that your average run of the mill blue blooded bastard wouldn’t!” 

Kazuma opened and shut his mouth, and realized he didn’t have a good reply. 

“You may not know this, sir, but I have been married many years,” Heidel commented, apparently apropos of nothing as he led them down the hall. “Sometimes, when my wife says something of good sense, or even when she does not, the proper response is usually ‘Yes, dear.’ Has saved me a great deal of trouble.”

Kazuma looked over at Rin, gave her a weak smile, and managed, “Yes, dear.”

Rin beamed happily up at him in response, her tail wagging slightly. Kazuma’s tail wagged too when she leaned on him, but he tried to control it. 

It turned out Iris wasn’t alone in the small dining chamber in her quarters: Dust and Darkness were already there, along with Rain and the ever-annoying Claire.

“Are the others joining us?” Kazuma asked, pulling a chair out for Rin before seating himself. 

“No, I thought it best to be discreet about this, and while I adore both Megumin and Aqua, their discretion is, ah, somewhat lacking,” Iris said with a wry grin. 

“You mean that Megumin would shout it from the rooftops and Aqua would tell anyone who got her a mug of ale,” Rin said with a sigh. 

“Quite,” Iris agreed. “Oh! Though we have been introduced, I simply must know how you and my Big Bro met, Miss Rin. Where are you from? I know you are also an Adventurer, what sort of quests have you been on?”

“Oh, uh, well, I’m not very interesting,” Rin said, blushing and looking nervous as all eyes turned towards her. 

“Anyone interesting to my Big Bro is interesting to me,” Iris reassured her. “And I simply adore stories of adventures!” 

“Well, uh, I grew up in Spoke, a small town to the south,” Rin explained. “My parents were grocers, and made a decent enough living. I have three other siblings and I didn’t want to sell vegetables or turn into a baby factory before I was 20, so I begged my parents for tuition and joined the College of Mages here in the capital.” 

Rin continued her story as dinner was served. Light affair by royal standards, but there were deviled dragon eggs and leviathan filets. Iris soothed Rin’s nervousness with her enthusiasm about hearing stories about both her days as a student at the College of Mages at the Royal Academy, as well as hearing about her various adventures. Claire was mercifully silent, while Darkness and Dust were unusually reserved. 

“How did you and Big Bro meet?” Iris asked as the dessert, a rich triple layer vanilla cake with whipped cream frosting and fresh berries, was served. 

“Actually, we met not long after he and Aqua came to Axel, but we met when he and Dust swapped parties,” Rin explained. 

“Really? Big Bro’s never told me that story,” Iris said, looking curiously to Kazuma. 

“It was his idea,” Kazuma said, pointing to Dust. “That moron thought I had it easy!” 

“Hey, in my defense, you looked like you were cultivating a harem of beautiful girls with advanced classes, and I was working my ass off in a party that was three dudes and Rin!” Dust protested. 

“Yeah, well, which one of us ended up sleeping with Darkness and which with Rin, huh?” Kazuma demanded.

Iris’s jaw dropped open, while Darkness turned bright red. Claire’s eyes narrowed, and Rain blushed in embarrassment. 

“That is not appropriate discussion for this table, Sato!” Claire snapped. 

“We didn’t, um, start dating then,” Rin hastily clarified, trying to get things back on track. “I’m not really sure what happened to Dust, but he didn’t want to talk about it afterwards and he looked like three miles of bad road. Kazuma, on the other hand, saved my life and the life of Keith and Taylor too.”

“Truly, how?!” Iris demanded, sidetracked for now. 

“Eh, it was just some goblins, no biggie,” Kazuma said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Normally he would take any opportunity to brag in front of Iris, but right now that didn’t seem wholly appropriate.

“We did have a quest to clear out a nest of goblins, which isn’t a big deal, even for someone who just knows intermediate magic like me and the rest of our low level party,” Rin agreed. “And at first the quest went really well: We cleared out a camp of goblins easily. Too easily, in fact. And I’m sure you know what that means.”

Iris gasped in horror and delight. “A Beginner’s Bane!” 

“Yes.” Rin nodded grimly, her expression serious. “A full grown Bane. The sort of monster that would eat a low level Crusader, Archer, Mage, and Adventurer for lunch with little effort. But Kazuma felt that something was off.”

“I mean, it just seemed too easy, you know? How come no one else had completed that quest? It’d been up for a week,” Kazuma said sheepishly. 

Rin shook her head. “None of the rest of us noticed, and it wasn’t like we were completely inexperienced: We’d been Adventuring for longer than you had by several months. We should have recognized the signs of a Bane. But we didn’t. You did.”

“I just got lucky,” Kazuma said, shrugging lamely.

“That wasn’t luck. You got us off the path and concealed us with Lurk until the Bane was gone, then led us back to town with the quest complete. If it had been Dust instead of you, we would have been dead,” Rin said. Then she paused, and frowned at Dust. “Or…would we? Who are you, anyway? I know you said you were some sort of minor noble from Bryndle, but…this is about you, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about me,” Dust said stiffly. “It’s about her. Faitfore. My dragon.”

“You have a dragon?” Kazuma asked, mystified. He glanced at Rin, but her jaw had dropped open. 

“You’re a dragon knight of Bryndle?!” Rin demanded, slamming her palms on the table. “Why are you slumming it with a low level party then!? No wonder you killed two Banes with a stick! You’re the sort of person who should be fighting Devil King generals, not Kazuma! What level even are you?! You never mentioned it, come to think of it!” 

“Sixty-seven…” Dust admitted, unable to meet Rin’s eyes. 

“Sixty-?!” Rin made several strangled noises, then half shouted, half screamed, “You’re one of the most powerful adventures in Axel, no, the entire KINGDOM, and you spend all your time passed out drunk in an alley or in jail for public urination!?” 

“I mean, it’s not always public urination,” Dust protested. “Sometimes it’s illegal gambling.”

Claire looked ready to do murder, but Iris motioned her back down while fighting back a smile. 

“Lady Dustiness, I apologize,” Rin told Darkness, an exasperated look on her face. “I thought I had this moron at least halfway house broken, but you’ll have your work cut out for you if you want to turn him into something even halfway resembling a man.”

“I, ah, am aware of Dust’s foibles,” Darkness admitted, blushing slightly. “They are part of what makes him so attractive to me. But you see…he was not always like this.”

“What, were you an upstanding citizen before they kicked you out of the Dragon Knights for drinking on duty?!” Rin demanded. 

“No,” Dust suddenly sat up, a steely look in his eyes that had Rin lean back. “I never did anything less than my duty. What happened…what happened was I trusted the wrong people to do the right thing.”

Dust then tersely recounted his story: he had been a Dragon Knight of Bryndle, one of the most powerful warriors of that land, mounted upon an elder dragon and the equal opponent of nearly any force the Devil King could muster with just him and his mount, Faitifore. The way he spoke, Faitifore was closer to a daughter or beloved little sister than a simple mount.

“She always took good care of me, always was happy to see me. I’d stay in the stable with her and read her stories sometimes, fairy tales were her favorite. I rescued her from traffickers who had stolen her from her nest as a hatchling. We were inseparable once I freed her, and that was how I became a dragon knight. It was my dream come true…”

“So what happened?” Kazuma asked. “Faitifore, is she…?”

“I…I hope she’s fine. That they haven’t locked her up again. The last time I saw her…but I’m skipping ahead. You see, we were assigned to bodyguard the Princess of Byrndle, Leonore.”

“The insufferable bitch,” Iris muttered.

“Princess!” Rain gasped, while Claire just about fainted dead away. 

“Rain, we are in private, and you’ve met Leonore. She is the most insufferable, arrogant, and rude bitch of a woman I have ever met, and that includes Baroness Leustrade!” Iris stated emphatically. 

“It’s still not proper for you to use language like that,” Rain chided. “A princess must comport herself properly.”

“Oh leave off it, Rain. I’ve wanted to strangle Leonore every moment I’ve had to spend with that shrew of a woman,” Claire said with a snort to Kazuma’s utter astonishment. “Finish your story, Rein.” 

“Well, uh, to make a long story short, one night her Highness demanded I take her flying. I said yes, but what I didn’t realize is that she was scheduled to be married in two days time.”

“You were her bodyguard. And you just forgot she was getting married,” Rin said in a deadpan tone.

“Er, well, I knew, it’s just…she was so insistent, you know? And I had a crush on her. I…I couldn’t decide what to do. My duty to the kingdom, or my duty to obey her. And, well, I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face, so…so I flew off with her. I was going to have her back by dawn, but she had sort of left an elopement announcement, and then we were on the run from the other dragon knights. I panicked, didn’t know what to do. It was sort of my fault, but-”

“No, Leonore had a duty as your liegewoman. A duty she betrayed,” Darkness said firmly. “She used her womanly wiles to convince you she was in love with you, then abused her position as your superior to force you to take her away and made everyone assume you were having a tryst.”

“Did you have a tryst with Princess Leonore?” Kazuma asked with a sort of sick fascination. 

“Well, uh, no. She, uh, she did come on to me pretty strong, but I was so stressed out that, er, I couldn’t get it up,” Dust admitted. “And I told her no. In the end, they caught us, and I took the blame for everything. But they tied up Faitifore, who didn’t understand what was going on at all. In the end, they stripped me of my title and exiled me, and I don’t know what happened to Faitifore. Last I saw her, she was tied up in a dungeon and screaming for me. I…I couldn’t save her. She’s being punished for my mistake.”

“So…what?” Rin looked around. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “You’re playing this for a political angle somehow, aren’t you?”

“Our first concern is helping Sir Cheruka ensure his beloved Faitifore is well,” Iris assured Rin. “Though there is the secondary matter of this being a chance for Belzerg to secure a Dragon Knight for ourselves.”

“And if we do get Faitifore back, they say I can marry Darkness!” Dust said, grabbing Rin’s hand. “Please, Rin, you have to help me! I can’t figure this out on my own, but you’re smart, and so is Kazuma! You can come up with a plan, right?”

Kazuma glanced at Darkness, who gave him a pleading expression. He sighed, then looked at Rin. She bit her lip, but nodded. 

“Right.” Kazuma leaned forward. “Tell me everything you can about Bryndle, its princess, and the castle. We’ll figure out how to get your dragon back.”

“With minimal diplomatic fallout,” Iris instructed. “Especially without causing an international incident.”

“That too,” Kazuma agreed. “Unless it’s necessary.”

Rin swatted him, but she grinned in approval. “We’ll get your precious baby Faitifore, Dust. Don’t worry.”

They spent the rest of the night scheming up a plan, but Kazuma knew the truth already.

One way or another, this whole thing was about to go off the rails. It always did. 

The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 7

Comoedia Glacialis 7: The Prince rises upon a Grave Trap

When Fortuna had been a young girl, her older sister had gone with the other maidens of the village to the shrine of Aphrodite before their weddings. Fortuna had gone as well, though she was far too young to be married at the age of only eight summers, and hadn’t had her flowering yet. The shrine had been located down the slope of the mountain, several days travel to the seaside, where legend had it the goddess had first arrived. 

The shrine of the goddess had been built of marble quarried from far away and had been decorated with beautiful sea shells and coral that sparkled in the sunlight, along with flowers and some precious stones. The statue of Aphrodite had been beautifully painted to show the goddess in her full glory, and Fortuna’s sister and the other maidens had given offerings of goat's milk, honey, and olive oil as the girls giggled and prayed for handsome husbands. Fortuna had made crowns of flowers with the older girls and offered those to the Goddess of Love and Beauty, wondering what sort of love she would find one day. 

Fortuna had never found love. Instead, she had slain a god, the same god whose coming had killed Fortuna’s sister and the rest of her family, then been cast out of time itself and flung into a frightening future, doomed to save the world with visions of unthinkable horror. 

Once more, she found herself before a God of Love, and perhaps even beauty. Unlike the brightly painted and warm Aphrodite, this woman was starkly cold, if even more regal and beautiful than Contessa had imagined. Her skin was alabaster white, like unpainted marble, her eyes a piercing light blue of glaciers, her hair glossy as spun silver. Instead of the lusty and curvacious figure of Aphrodite, this woman was a slender maiden. Not that she lacked womanly curves, but without her little god Fortuna would never have been able to discern them in the bulky fur coat and mantle the woman wore. 

“Fortuna,” the icy god said, drawing the word out. “You are Fate’s Fool. You are distant from your land and home as I am, child. What brings you into our presence?”

“Fate’s Fool. A proper name for me, I suppose,” Fortuna said, chuckling darkly. She flipped her hat into the air, so that it landed at the perfect cocky angle on her head. “I come representing the mortals of this world who would cast down the Heavenly Principles. As you have raged against them, we come to offer alliance.”

She had asked her Path many questions about this encounter, but it had come up mostly silent, offering only extrapolations based upon the other Archons. Nahida and Raiden would appreciate a direct, honest approach. Venti would play word games, then laugh it off. After speaking with Alexandria, Fortuna had decided that the direct, honest approach was best here. If this really was a loving god, she would not tolerate lies. 

The Tsaritsa regarded Fortuna for a long moment, then a small smile spread across her pale lips. “You would come to the bride and offer to murder her betrothed? A bold move, Fool.”

Feeling like her heart had stopped, Fortuna forced a smile. “He tried the same thing with Lesser Lord Kusinali. Basically raped her when he-”

WHAT. 

Fortuna froze, nearly literally so as the temperature in the room suddenly plummeted. The mien of the god before her changed. Not so much her physical appearance, as the sudden spiritual weight that Fortuna felt upon her soul. Icy wrath radiated from the being before Fortuna, and she found herself on her knees in abject awe as tears came to her eyes. It was like hiking to the summit of Mount Olympus and finding all the myths and legends true. 

SO, THE SUSTAINER DARED TO LAY HIS HANDS UPON ANOTHER, THEN? The queen of love and ice demanded of Fortuna, her face contorted with rage. At first, Fortuna thought she was dead, doomed at the hands of a spurned lover. 

Then the Cryo Archon spoke again, and hatred and loathing dripped from every word. SO THIS IS HOW MUCH THEY HATE ME. THAT EVEN WHEN THE SUSTAINER SHOWS HOW WRETCHED HE IS, EVEN THEN THEY WILL NOT COME TO MY AID. THEY ARE BLIND FOOLS, ALL OF THEM! TO SUFFER UNDER HEAVEN’S TYRANNY LIKE MEEK LAMBS AWAITING SLAUGHTER!

Fortuna didn’t understand that, but apparently neither did the Archon’s advisors. “Heaven’s Tyranny, Majesty? But are you not of heaven?” the one Fortuna recognized as Anatoly Komissarov, a gangster and oligarch. He was on his knees as well as the others, his eyes full of worship. 

The regal face of the god regarded her subordinate, then the pressure changed, and she looked mortal once more. “No, my Thief. I was born a mortal woman. My name… was Bronislava Cocolievna Snezhnaya. My mother was the Cryo Archon. She adopted me as a young girl she found lost amidst the snow of our homeland. One day, when the people she loved were threatened, she defied the Heavenly Principles. For her sin, she was cast down and slain, and her Throne and Authority passed to me, her heir. I have continued her tradition of defying heaven.”

The Archon’s gaze swept back to Fortuna, and there was neither warmth nor mercy there. “Bold of you to declare yourself an enemy of heaven, mortal. But I am fond of boldness. Come serve me, and be my Fool. I can promise you that one day, we will slay my betrothed, and cast down the Heavenly Principles for all time.”

The offer took Fortuna aback, and she reached for the comfort of Eighty reflexively. She hadn’t seen this: an offer from an Archon to join them? She nearly asked Eighty what she should do, but then stopped. Did she want to join this god in their quest? She didn’t even really know anything about this Bronislava. And her friends…she couldn’t just abandon them. 

“I will honor you, of course, mighty one,” Fortuna said slowly. “And I believe we share the same goals. But I cannot take service with you at this time. Perhaps we can be allies.”

“Who are you?” the blond man, the parahuman called Thoma demanded, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve not seen capes like the three of you before. Who do you represent?”

“An interested party,” Fortuna said, winking at him, but the German man just frowned at her. 

“Come now, if we are to be allies, there must be trust,” the Archon said lightly. “You seem to know where I am from already, Fortune’s Fool. Do not be glib. From whence do you hail, and whom do you represent?”

An answer came to Fortuna, whispered to her by her little god in Eighty, and she licked her lips. “The daughter you love sent me. The one they call Alexandria.”

“You are an American?” Anatoly demanded, his gaze gone cold and steely. He turned to the Archon. “Your Majesty, the Americans are our old foes. They would seek to weaken and cripple us again to maintain their advantage. They have been hostile to Archons as well, from the moment Raiden appeared.”

“I do not think that counts as a mark against them,” Bronisalva said, but her tone was frosty and her eyes never left Fortuna. “So, that child sent you, did she? I know little of this world yet, but she I have heard of. Mayhaps this alliance is possible. What do you propose?”

“You will seek to gain control of Russia once more, yes?” Fortuna asked. The various mortals at the table glared at her, but the Archon simply nodded. 

“As is my right. This land needs a ruler as much as she needs a god. I will be the mother that my people need.” 

“If you dare meddle in our affairs, Yankee…” Anatoly said, his voice low and dangerous. 

“That is not my intent or that of Alexandria,” Fortuna said hastily, her mind whirling as new routes appeared on her path. “Quite the opposite: We propose to ease international pressure and intervention as you re-unite Russia. We could offer you supplies and intelligence, but your methods and means would be largely up to you. I would need to confer with my mistress, but she would be amenable to a more formal alliance once you both take leadership of your nations.”

“You speak as though the outcome of your election is inevitable,” one of the women, Anastasia Komissarova said. 

Fortuna winked again. “I would be a rather poor oracle if I couldn’t even foretell the outcome of a simple election. Even normal political pundits can tell Alex is going to win in a landslide.” 

The other woman snorted. Elena Vasina, a dancer.  Fortuna hadn’t looked up a file on her beyond knowing she was Anatoly’s current mistress. “Even an idiot knows that American elections are but a facade for their elite to maintain their grasp on power.”

Fortuna bit her lip. She wasn’t an Athenian herself, but she strongly believed in democracy as the purest expression of the human spirit. That said, there was a time for tyrants in the more Roman sense of the word, and she firmly believed Becky would be a modern Cincinnatus, or like the Americans' own mythical George Washington. 

“What god oversees your lands, mortal? Is it this Jesus I have heard of?” Bronisalva demanded. “Does he know of Alexandria’s plans?”

“The gods of America have not made themselves known in some time. Many are Christians who follow Jesus of Nazareth, but I do not worship him, nor have I seen him,” Fortuna answered. “He is said to have returned to heaven and will come back one day, but it has been 2000 years.”

“Two thousand…” the Archon shook her head and frowned sourly. “Well, then he should not complain when I take back his followers. That is too long to abandon your people. Not even Barbatos slept for that long.”

Fortuna privately agreed, but didn’t feel it was her place to speak for the Christians. Most of them were perfectly lovely people, even if they were a bit odd for believing in just one God. “The religions of this time and world are strange indeed. But I think we can reach an accord. Please, accept these gifts, and take my card. More will follow, but I wanted to meet you and let you know that the Protectorate and the people of the United States and Canada wish our Russian neighbors only success in their struggle to rebuild their nation.”

The Archon smiled and nodded. “We look forward to further communications from our American allies. May the bonds of love join us together.”

Bowing once more, Fortuna had her minions leave the offerings on the table, then led them out of the building and to a garden shed, where they took a door back to headquarters. For once, her after-action report would be positively rosy. Maybe Becky was right. Love really was the strongest force in the world. 

Anatoly waited until the Yankee skank had left the room to explode. “You would make a deal with the Americans?! Do you truly hate your people so?! They would exploit us and grind us into the dirt again, as they did during the Great Patriotic War!” 

“My dear Thief,” the Tsaritsa chuckled throatily, shaking her head. “Have you never heard the saying before? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. I trust not these silver-tongued arrogant fools who come with such paltry offerings.” She walked over, picked up a cup of Starbucks and sniffed it. She took a sip, then shrugged. “Coffee, with chocolate and cream. Pathetic.” She set it back on the tray, picked up a donut, and examined it. “Unhealthy in the extreme. Do they think me a child, to placate me with sweets?” 

 “So you will not buy into the American’s lies?” Anatoly asked, a sense of relief washing over him.

“Hmm. They could be useful,” the Tsaritsa mused, pacing back to her seat. “This America, it is a powerful nation?”

“The strongest in the world,” Thoma said. Anatoly glared at him, but the other man shrugged. “Be pragmatic, boss. It is not Russia and has not been for decades. Who else would you say can rival the Yankees? Japan, perhaps? Even with the Shogun, they cannot rival the Americans in industry, population, food production, or even the number of capes.”

“I have much to learn it seems,” the Tsaritsa said, frowning and shaking her head. “Krasnov, tell me: how should I learn about these Americans?” 

“Hrm,” Thoma rubbed his chin. “I have read a few books on the Americans. They often say that The Great Gatsby is the best reflection of their soul, and I would tend to agree. You are fond of theater, no? Perhaps Death of a Salesman?”

“Apollo 13,” Elena said, and everyone’s eyes turned to her. She blushed and bowed her head. “I…I always thought it best showed how the Americans beat us. How even in the face of disaster, they never give up. They did not rely on God or miracles but trusted in their machines and spirit to persevere. It is the movie that explained to me why the Soviet Union fell, but the United States did not.” 

“You should be learning of our history, not the Yankees,” Anatoly complained. “You could read Tolstoy or Pushkin, or watch Andrei Rublev or The Cranes Are Flying. Not American trash.”

“There will be time enough for that, but I already understand the heart of my people. What it is to take strength from the ice, and to endure all, though the world turns against you. To laugh in the face of despair and to make feasts out of nothing. Do not fear, my Thief. I know my people, my children, my land. But I do not yet understand my enemies,” the Tsaritsa said, her smile as cold and foreboding as winter itself. 

He nodded reluctantly. “As you say, your Majesty. I apologize for speaking out against you.”

“Do not ever apologize for giving me what you think is good advice. A wise ruler seeks advisors who tell her what she needs to hear. Not what she wants to hear,” the Tsaritsa told him. “See to it that those works you both spoke of are sent to me, and make preparations. At dawn, we depart to wake the Sleeper.”

Anatoly stood with the others as the Tsaritsa departed for her chambers, then called for a servant to bring her his copies of War and Peace and Little Tragedies, along with the movies she’d requested. Including Apollo 13, which Elena informed him was at their flat downtown instead of the estate, which was several hours outside of Saint Petersburg near a small town. 

“It’s going to be a long night,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a great deal to plan for. He couldn’t simply travel hundreds of kilometers with the Tsaritsa with little warning. While he had access to helicopters, this expedition would call for more pomp than a small raid with a few dozen men. They would need to travel by plane this time, and he would need to send ahead staff to prepare a place for them, as well as monitor where the Sleeper was. 

“Can I help?” Anastasia asked, and Anatoly gave her a pained smile.

“I hate to drag you into this, Nastya,” Anatoly said morosely. He’d always done his best to keep his sister out of this.  “For now, see to the Tsaritsa and her needs. There will be much more for you to do in my absence.”

“Of course. I’ll speak with Thoma, and see what I can do to assist him as well,” Anastasia said, then turned to go. Anatoly smiled after her, but it was a painful smile full of regret and nostalgia. He did this to protect his sister, not send her off to the underbelly with him. 

“Perhaps I can be of assistance as well? I write a good hand, and I am good with numbers.”

Anatoly blinked, then turned to meet Elena’s gaze. She started back resolutely, hand on hip, her lips pressed together. “I did not think…that is, you are not familiar with the organization.”

“I am a proud Russian as well, Tolney. And I think for once, you have actually done something as impressive as you think it is. Before, your schemes just made us rich, and I was thankful. Now, they have a chance to restore the Motherland and change the world.” She leaned in closer, and a smile curved her full lips. “And I have to admit, I find that terribly attractive.”

Now it was Anatoly’s turn to smile. She was so very beautiful, and his cold heart throbbed with love for her. “Well, business first. But if we work hard, perhaps there shall be time for pleasure before dawn.”

As it turned out, they did manage to finish sometime after midnight, and Anatoly took Elena right there in the office. It was different in ways he hadn’t imagined before: feeling her heat beneath him, feeling her heart beat in time with his, feeling his Vision magnify the love he felt. He would do anything to protect Elena, to protect Anastasia, to save his people.

With his Love, he would change the world. 

Flight was not new to Bronya. Her first flight had been shortly after her mother had adopted her, racing across the night sky in the warm arms of her savior. She had clung to Cocolia then, gripping tightly with chubby little hands. Cocolia had laughed and swooped through a snowstorm, and before long, Bronya had been delighted as well. 

Later, when she had gained her Vision, her mother had taken her flying with her as well, showing her the lay of Snezhnaya. It was a beautiful land, especially in spring when the flowers bloomed as the snow melted. Summer was all too brief, as had been Bronya’s childhood. 

“One day, all this shall be yours,” her mother had said.

Broyna had scoffed at the idea. “You are a god, mother. You will live forever. I am but a mortal child. One day, I will look like a doddering grandma, while you will still be beautiful and young.”

Cocolia had smiled sadly. Perhaps she had known even then. 

Later, when she became the Tsaritsa, Bronya had flown on wings of ice to oversee her people. To remind them that their Loving god still watched over them, even in the darkest winter night. 

Now she flew on mechanical wings, and while it was comfortable, she missed the wind blowing in her own face. Still, this was efficient, and that was what truly mattered. She sipped her strong black tea with just a little pepper in it to give some kick. 

“Do not light that filthy thing,” she said without glancing over at her Thief. 

The boy paused, a small device that made flames halfway to his lips along with that disgusting cigarette. “Majesty?”

“There are easier and kinder ways to kill yourself, Thief. Or to enslave yourself. Throw those things away and do not let me catch their stench upon you again,” she ordered. 

He looked stricken for a moment, then pulled the pack out of his pocket and tossed it into the bin. “As you wish.”

She glanced out the window at the passing countryside below them. “So where is this scar you spoke of?”

Her Thief leaned close to the window as well, glancing out of it. Then he called a servant over and inquired with the pilot of the vessel, who called back to indicate that they would see it in just a few minutes. 

Bronya waited patiently. As a mortal, she had always been quick-tempered and impatient, even after she gained her Cryo Vision. An odd trait for the daughter of the Cryo Archon, but still. After a few hundred years, she had learned patience. She still had her temper, but it was a thing of ice now. Slow and inexorable, and something that remembered wrongs forever. 

When she saw the Scar, that anger flared up again, but she suppressed it. The shape of it was all too familiar: it was the trail of a demon beast. 

The Scar was a kilometer or so wide, though it varied somewhat, and looked like a glacier had been dragged across it, flattening the land and destroying everything caught in its path. Several towns and villages had been bisected or touched by it, and had been torn to shreds. Forests had been plowed under, and even fields scoured. It looked to have happened a handful of years ago, so the land was healing, but the Scar was still very much evident. 

“The only mercy is that Sleeper moved slowly, no faster than a man can walk. The trip took him several months,” Anatoly said quietly. “He’s not Manton limited, and anything in his path is obliterated, even the topsoil. He was the second worst disaster to strike Russia, after only the Behemoth.”

“Yet he remains in Mordovia?” Bronya asked, curious. 

“Hasn’t moved in years. He’s actually sank down several meters as his storm eats away at the ground below him. He may have trapped himself, but no one’s sure,” Anatoly admitted. “No one can even speak to him.” 

Broyna nodded thoughtfully, concocting a plan. Normally, she worked on careful timetables that had been calculated and planned over decades, if not centuries, but now she had to move fast. She was in a new world, a new land, and there was oh so little time. It was almost like being mortal again.

Almost. 

The city they flew to had been ravaged by the Scar, with a wide section of half-destroyed buildings that had never been rebuilt. But it was the Storm that drew the eye and interested Broyna. It looked like a great, irregularly shaped soap bubble, with iridescent swirls and half-seen shapes within. It also appeared to have sunken and shrunk somewhat, if the surrounding ruins were anything to go by. 

It reminded Bronya of the Cataclysm. Of when the Abyss had been unleashed upon the world, and wrought terror and destruction across the land. How these people had to have suffered. No wonder they were hers. 

The craft landed, and Bronya disembarked with her Thief and his servitors. Waiting for them were the scum of the earth. Bronya could sense the hatred and self-loathing coming off these men and women in waves. They were thugs, thieves, charlatans, whores, and drug dealers. They had no love for themselves, or one another. Especially not for her. 

Well. That was changed easily enough. 

Taking off her gloves, Bronya stopped to smile at the first man. A wiery, middle-aged man who squinted to hide his nearsightedness. His teeth were yellow and stained from cigarettes, and he had several old wounds that pained him. 

Nikolay Chaly.

“Kolya, you should be wearing your glasses, you look very handsome in them,” Bronya said, gently touching him. “You should be dressed more warmly, your joints are hurting you. Here, let me ease that.”

The man blinked owlishly at her, and she quickly restored his pains as he gasped, then held up a hand and formed a pair of spectacles to his prescription, then put them on his nose. 

“There. Thank you for coming out to aid us today. Russia and I have need of more men like you.”

Nikolay stared at her in astonishment, love already kindled within his heart. Bronya didn’t even have to stoke it. It had been years since Nikolay had a woman touch him like that, not since his wife left him and his mother died. He was hers now, and forever. For a few words, and a pair of glasses. 

But she had already moved on. The next was a boy with the sort of mustache the young tried to grow out to show how adult they were, but only proved how childish they still were. His face was pimpled, but his face was already reddening from alcohol addiction. He had a knife in his coat and a gun as well, and he had killed many times on Anatoly or his lieutenant's orders despite not being old enough to shave. 

Pyotr Uglov.

“Pyotr! How many times have you been told not to be drinking on the job?” Bronya said in exasperation, and reached out, drawing the half-emptied bottle of vodka from his coat. She sniffed it, and made a face. “And cheap swill at that! My Thief, do you not give your workers good food? Here, give Pyotr some bread and sausage. He is hungry, he needs food, not liquor!” 

She purged the alcohol from Pyotr’s system, which hurt, but she did it as she kissed him chastely on the cheek. “You leave off the drink, and maybe Olga will not be so quick to slap you when you greet her, eh?”

The boy stared after her, open-mouthed, but Bronya had moved on. It took nearly half an hour, but she had a word and a small healing for each and every one of the assembled criminals. When she was done, she didn’t have a ragtag bunch of thieves. 

She had an army. A fiercely loyal one, that loved her. Some as a mother, others as a sister, many because they wished to take her to bed. That was all fine. So long as they loved her. The ones who lusted after her would learn soon enough to find mortal women to take their affections. Or mortal men, though Bronya preferred the former. She needed many sons and daughters to carry out her will, and while love was good in all its forms, some were more useful than others. 

“You need not concern yourself with them, they are simply peasants,” Anatoly told her once they were in the private carriage, no, car, he had arranged for them. 

“A nation is built by its peasants, my Thief. You must learn to love all your countrymen, from the highest to the lowest. For each has something to contribute to my work,” she told him. She did not comment that it was amusing that one of no notable heritage she could discern would make such a comment. His father had been a weapons merchant who had become wealthy stealing from the government. Not a nobleman. Yet all mortals needed their little Delusions. 

She would have to find a way to grant them such once more. 

When they were within 100 meters of the Storm, the car stopped, and Bronya stepped out. “Stay here. My Thief, accompany me.”

The Thief walked with her, though he was nervous as he did so. Fitting. A Thief should be cautious and work from the shadows. So much open action clearly unnerved her new player. She had chosen his role well. 

When they were ten paces from the shimmering barrier, she turned to him. “This is where you must await me. From here, I proceed alone.”

“You…you would go into that, alone?” the Thief asked, swallowing nervously. “I know you are powerful, Majesty, but-”

“I am a god. I may tread where no other can,” she said and caressed his cheek tenderly. “Do not fret over much. A little is touching. Too much is unbecoming.”

Then she gripped her gnosis tightly and strode into the chaos. 

It was not like the Abyss, truly. It was a simple rending of matter, no distortion of Time or Dream at all. A little spatial distortion perhaps, but in a crude, basic level. She sensed only the Sustainer’s power here, not that of the dead god she had smelled on Fortune’s Fool. 

Still, it was an impressive display of power. But it was simply energy. And all energy Ceased before the power of her Love. 

The storm still raged around her, but it could not touch her. Nor did she let it harm her garments. She did note that it was obliterating the very ground she walked upon, but only slowly. Interesting. 

She could see her way through the storm, but it was like walking in an alien desert, where there was no life, and hardly even any air. That was fine. Bronya did not need to breathe to survive and had not in centuries. Still, it was unpleasant, but she did not speed up her steps. She was the Tsaritsa. The Tsaritsa did not hurry. 

She found what she sought at the center of the storm. A man, naked, laying on the ground, with hands folded upon his breast, eyes closed in apparent somnolence. But she knew it was but a decoy. 

“Well? I have stepped into your parlor. Will you not deign at least to greet your guest?” she demanded of the storm. 

There was silence for a few moments, then the sleeping man dissolved to ash. And the storm spoke. 

Who are you? It’s been so long, so very, very long. Am I dreaming?

“You are the Sleeper, are you not? It would be fitting for you to dream. But I am no apparition or figment of unreality. I am here, mortal. You have slept long enough,” Bronya told the storm. 

Go away. Let me rest. I’m tired.

“Indolence breeds weariness. Come. It is time for you to awaken. I have work for you,” Bronya said. 

But I can’t wake up. I don’t know how to stop it! I don’t know how to end this nightmare! I finally found somewhere to sleep, where the noise would all stop. Just let me sleep. 

“I cannot. You cannot remain as you are. You must awaken. I have need of you. Open your heart to me, and I shall grant you wakefulness.”

If you won’t go away, then I’ll destroy you like the rest! 

The storm grew in intensity, began to swell, began to actively attempt to grind her down and turn her bones to dust and her body to ash. 

In response, Bronya summoned her own storm. Winter’s own heart. Around her formed a bubble of true rest, truest peace. For ice was the embrace of emptiness. 

What?! It hurts! It freezes! It burns! It…I can…feel it! I…I haven’t felt anything in such a long time…

“Submit, mortal. Submit, and I will grant you the true rest you seek. But only after your work is done. And it is a mighty work I have in store for you.”

How? I can’t make it stop! It never stops! It’s only destruction! I killed…I killed everyone I loved! Everything I had! Gone! 

“Then you shall love me, and I shall be all you need. Only say that you will serve me and love me, and I will give you your heart's desire. For I see you, Ivan Petrov. I see your pain. Come into my embrace, and I will soothe your hurts and give you a new heart of ice.” 

If you can wake me from this nightmare…I will serve you eternally. My heart will be yours, for I have nothing else to love. 

Bronya’s lips curved upward in a wintery smile. So easy. All you had to do to get someone to love you was to simply see them, see their ugliness…and love them anyway. If you did that, they would do anything for you. 

She reached out, not with her hands, but with her Authority. It was easy enough to find the angel behind this storm, the shard of the Sustainer that had possessed this mortal man named Ivan Petrov and turned him into naught but a storm of destruction. She caressed the angel, and it shuddered at her touch, for nothing had ever touched it before. 

You seek someone to Love, do you not? Someone to complete you. To give you knowledge. Let me teach you of love, little angel. And I shall drag you from heaven to suffer amongst the mortals as I do. 

The angel shuddered, tried to resist, tried to force its mortal host to fight her. But it was powerless against her Authority. For she was the object of its master’s affections. Soon, it loved her too.

And so she killed it. For do we not always kill that which we love? She took the angel and shattered it to pieces, taking its body for herself. She had much work to do with it. 

Then, she grasped the fading soul of Ivan Petrov. His body was gone, yes. But she could forge him a new vessel. So she did. She took the dust of the Earth, and formed it into the shape of a man. Not an ordinary, plain man, as he had been in life. But a handsome doll of a man, chiseled and carved to serve a purpose. 

When she had formed the perfect body, right down to the cowlick in the dark curly hair, she leaned down, and kissed it, placing Ivan’s soul within it. Her Prince sat up, blinking his eyes, as tears filled them. 

“I…I’m awake,” her Prince whispered. 

“So you are,” she said with a smile. She tilted her head up, pointing to the bright afternoon sky, though it had been morning when she had entered. “And it is a beautiful winter day.”

Her Prince wept in her arms, and Bronya cradled him as her Thief and his band of rogues came running up to them, the storm having broken at last. 

How she loved these mortals of hers, these players upon the stage she had sculpted. 

And how it broke her heart to know she must write a script that would slay them. 

But the show must go on.

And she would have her revenge. Let heaven Tremble at the strength of her Love. For the God of Love would conquer all. 

PHILO: How cold-hearted of the Cyro Archon. The cruelest part is that for all her manipulation; she is sincere in her Love even as she tears her own Heart out to do what must be done. How ruthless. How admirable. How pitiful. A tragedy on both sides; a love that burns both ends.

PRT Threat Assessment: Lightning Princess Ami

Official poster of Ami for her new series, Lightning Princess Ami Gaiden, Cira 2009

PRT Threat Assessment: Lightning Princess Ami

b. May 27th 1991 (Aged 18)

Name: Ami Raiden. 

Alias: Inazuma no Himegimi (Lightning Princess) 

Power Origin: Dual Vision (Pyro)/Parahuman 

Disposition: High-ranking Japanese royalty, and widespread media sensation. 

Location: Imperial Residence, Japan

General Information: Born Ami Sato to a middle class Japanese family in Nagasaki, Ami’s parents were murdered one day after the destruction of Leviathan by a Parahuman, though Ami herself was saved by the Raiden Shogun. At the same time, Ami triggered and became a parahuman, and was taken under the wing of the Raiden Shogun as her ward. No one is exactly sure what inspired this, but Ami was officially adopted into the Shogun’s household as her daughter at the same time as Raiden assumed official rule of Japan. It should be noted that Raiden is extremely protective of the girl, and it is rather unwise to threaten her for that reason. 

After her adoption, Ami quickly became a media darling in Japan, which she capitalized on by finding an out-of-work mangaka named Hiromu Arakawa, who was put to work chronicling Ami’s supposed exploits. This series had run continuously for a decade and just released its 30th volume. Globally, Lightning Princess Ami has been a sensation, appealing to young children of both genders with its wish-fulfillment premise, high-quality art, compelling storylines, and a heavy propaganda push by the Japanese government. 

It is reported that Ami herself provides most of the storylines for her manga by recounting tales of her exploits to Ms. Arakawa, though the manga itself is heavily fictionalized. 

Shortly after the arrival of the Pyro Archon, Ami received a Pyro Vision while performing live on stage at the annual Anime Expo in Los Angeles. This caused something of an international incident, though it was thankfully resolved without violence. 

Since then, Ami has taken a more active role in Japanese and international politics, partly because of her new powers, and partly because she was now old enough to do so. She still spends most of her time in Tokyo, though she has also dabbled in idol singing and live action tv and movie performances. 

What is this!?  You dare recite the daring tales of the exploits of the Prinzessin des Blitzen, but claim them to be a falsity!? Murasaki! Fetch my blade, that we may correct the falsities of these interlopers!

Sigh. Yes, Mistress. But I must note that the Yankees will not take kindly to you breaking into their database. 

Pah! One such as I cares not for their blandishments! Now, let me tell you the TRUTH of the Prinzessin des Blitzen, as can be found in the Illustrated Guide to the World of the Immernachtreich, by yours truly! 

ONCE! Long ago, in a land far away, in the City of Nagasaki-

Mistress, Nagasaki is here in Japan, and this happened only 10 years past. The tale is thrilling enough without this excessive embellishment. 

Oh very well. Ten years ago, there lived a young girl named Ami, with her father and mother. Her life was simple and somewhat dull, but she was happy and safe. Then, the terrible demon beast LEVIATHAN visited Nagasaki. Frightened, Ami and her parents attempted to flee, but when all hope seemed lost and the city drowned, the RAIDEN SHOGUN, THE NARUKAMI OSHOGO, appeared to save the day! 

The city was saved, and Ami and her parents thought themselves safe. But what they did not know was that the Leviathan was BUT A PUPPET! FOR YOU SEE, THE REAL ENEMY WAS NONE OTHER THAN THE YANKEE DEVIL EIDO-

Mistress! Think of to whom you speak!

Oh very well, this ties back into my overarching storyline better anyway. LEVIATHAN WAS BUT A PAWN! He had been summoned by none other than the Devil King, MAOU THE GOLDEN! 

Much better, Mistress. I think this does serve the overall story better. 

Thank you, Murasaki. I’m terribly clever, aren’t I? Anyway, Maou the Golden was enraged that his servant had been destroyed. In retribution, he sent out a horde of lesser demons, one of which possessed a wicked gangster. That gangster was filled with bloodlust, and in his possessed state, mindlessly struck down Ami’s father and mother, who gave their life to save her! Not content with this, Maou also sent another demon to possess Ami, to turn her into yet another mindless servant of his!

Haha! Cower in fear, mortal human girl, for I shall feast upon your SOUL and turn your mind to wickedness! 

Yes! Very good, Murasaki. But Ami was no weak minded girl! She had the soul of a warrior, and fought back with all her might against the demon! Though she struggled for many long days, her powers were insufficient to overcome the mighty demon! But then, when her strength was failing, who should appear but the COOLEST AND MOST AWESOME PERSON IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, THE RAIDEN SHOGUN! 

Ayiii! Though I could devour this little girl easily, your powers are too great for me, Raiden Shogun! Please, spare my life!

The Raiden Shogun, in her Eternal wisdom, saw the penitent demon and the dying little girl. “Very well, demon. I shall spare your life, but in exchange, you must agree to serve me all the rest of your days, your will bound to this child as her familiar!” 

No! To serve a mere mortal!? But alas, my only other choice is oblivion! Very well, O Mighty Kami of Thunder, I submit! I shall henceforth be your loyal slave, and serve this child unerringly! 

From that day forward, the demon was known as Murasaki, and was bound to serve Ami! Together, they had many adventures, from battling against the Anemo Archon, to fighting alongside Lesser Lord Kusanali against the Simurgh, to even confronting the Tsaritsa Herself! 

Truly, an impressive array of accomplishments!

Because of her passion for justice and unyielding will, the heavens themselves recognized Ami, and bestowed upon her a Vision of Flames, forging Ami’s path to achieve GODHOOD ITSELF! 

Spoilers, Mistress. 

Oh, right, that’s a future storyline, coming very soon! Just as soon as I figure out how Tsu did it… anyway, now you know the BRIEF HISTORY OF THE PRINZESSEN DES BLITZEN, AMI!

Personality:  Unlike her stoic and serene adoptive mother and elder sister Tsukoyomi, Ami is an exuberant and emotive child, with the personality stereotypical of Pyro Vision Holders. She is immensely passionate about everything she does and prone to flowery language and grandiose introductions and self-descriptions. Ami adores the spotlight and attention and performs many official ceremonies and duties with aplomb, as well as appearing at a number of fan conventions and events. 

She always has time to sign an autograph or take a picture with fans, and it is known that she also actively seeks out crime or threats wherever she goes, having engaged in acts of vigilantism on foreign soil multiple times. Despite the diplomatic fallout, Ami’s success record speaks for itself. Largely because no one yet has been stupid enough to fight and potentially injure the daughter of the original Endslayer, who has a notoriously short fuse when it comes to threats to her family. 

Ah! The NERVE! To imply that I am short of chuunibyou lunatic!? I don’t hog the spotlight, Mother and Tsu just have lots of important things to do, so I perform a lot of the ceremonies! Plus, they hate the attention and I love it so why shouldn’t I help them out like that, huh!? 

One would think that to be Chuunibyo someone would have to have delusions of grandeur. My Mistress is the adoptive daughter of a god, with powers of her own. Clearly, she is the genuine article. Though that part about criminals surrendering the moment they know who she is I can attest to. It’s rather amusing to watch her pitch a fit whenever someone declines to fight her. 

Murasaki! I do not pitch a fit! I just…I seek ever more challenging opponents, and if they had any honor or spine they’d fight me! 

Mistress, when you find someone suicidal enough to challenge the daughter of the Lightning’s Glow, you may come to regret your bellicose braggadocio. 

Classification: Brute 5, Mover 5, Shaker 4, Striker 6, Master 7

Ugh, these power ratings have the right idea, but their names are so…so UNIMAGINATIVE! I’m making my own. 

PRINZESSIN DES BLITZEN

Level: 120

Race: Demi-God

Class: Princess

HP: 13,905

ATK: 1,969

DEF: 633

Elemental Mastery: 357

Crit: 66%

Crit Bonus: 105%

Energy Recharge: 100%

Weapon: Thundering Pulse

Artifact: Golden Troupe

Normal Attack: Bolts of Downfall

Skill: Nightrider

Burst: Midnight Phantasmagoria

Mistress…these are just your stats from the collab you had with that gacha game. 

T-that’s not important! What’s important is that they’re narratively more interesting than that gobbledygook! 

Brute 5: As a dual Vision Holder and Parahuman, one of a bare handful on record, Ami is far sturdier than your average cape. While her boasts might lead you to believe she’s bluffing, Ami has taken on several serious capes in exhibition matches, including several with her own mother. She’s more than capable of taking hits that would turn most people to ash, though she will bleed and stay down if hit hard enough. 

Blessed by the gods, the Prinzessen des Blitzen is capable of taking the blows of a mighty demon and surviving, and has fought both Demon Beasts and Archons! Her armor was forged by her mother upon the celestial forge in the Plane of Euthymia, and can withstand even the Lightning’s Glow!

Though it does seem to provide little protection when your mother gets her sandals to discipline you.

M-Murasaki! She hasn’t done that since I was eight! Oh, very well, eleven, but just that one time and I told her it was an accident that Clara and I blew up the Emperor’s cake! 

Mover 5: Ami’s parahuman ability lets her summon a construct she calls Murasaki, which takes various forms. For the Mover rating, she can ride Murasaki at speeds of up to 150 kph through the air. Ami also has faster reflexes and movement speed than an average human, able to move more quickly in combat in a way that makes her hard to contain. 

When I call upon Murasaki’s Celestial Form, he becomes a Qilin, able to ride upon the Lightnings and strike fear into the hearts of my foes! I myself am blessed with speed and grace, able to match any foe blow for blow!

However, do not ask how she performed at the last sports day at school. My mistress was very upset that she was disqualified when she tried to light her shoes on fire to gain greater speed, and ended up gluing herself to the track when they melted. 

M-Murasaki! They don’t need to know that! 

Shaker 4: Ami can create small-scale explosions that can affect an area approximately equivalent to 50kg of dynamite by combining her lightning-based parahuman powers with her Pyro vision. She mostly uses these for pyrotechnics at her shows, but estimates indicate she would be able to level an unfortified building. 

Small scale?! Oooh, I’ll show you! Will you still call it small-scale when I set them off above PRT HQ!?

Mistress, do remember what happened the last time you used your powers on American soil…

Oh it was fine. I didn’t even get arrested. Ugh, my mom would probably be mad again though. FINE! But on New Years I’m setting off the biggest fireworks display you’ve ever seen and writing my name across the entire sky! We’ll see who says I’m small scale then!

Striker 6: Ami has been schooled in the Isshin Blade Art by the Raiden Shogun herself, and has a blade forged by Raiden. This combined with her dual fire and lightning powers means that blows from her are enough to take out even capes with dedicated brute powers, and she is especially dangerous up close. 

I named my sword Chunchumaru! It means Bird Song Blade!

I call it the Tweet Tweet Sword. 

That is because I have the soul of a poet and you have the mind of a dullard!

Master 7: Ami’s most notable power is her previously mentioned construct, Murasaki. While normally the construct is in the form of a cute-looking little dragon, he can grow up to the size of a horse, breathe lightning, and fly. He is a considerable force amplifier to Ami’s already versatile arsenal, and while he is active he is dangerous enough on his own to merit a respectable threat rating beyond what the average PRT trooper or team are equipped to handle. If at all possible, focus on subduing Murasaki first, and keeping them separate if a conflict should arise. 

Do you not have anything to add to my entry, Mistress? 

They do you a disservice! You are my most loyal servant and friend, and no mere construct! I am offended at the very thought that you are nothing but a figment of my imagination! The very idea! 

To be fair, Mistress, a large part of my personality is based upon an imprint of your own psyche, as my previous incarnation as a demon was rather lacking in creativity and original thought. I am, however, honored that you would call me your friend. I will serve you always with my life, Mistress.

Recommended Strategies: To be blunt, while Ami herself is not beyond the scope of a threat a PRT team should be able to contain with support, the nation that stands behind her as well as her relationship to the Raiden Shogun means that under no circumstances should a PRT trooper ever engage her without express orders from Director Wyatt Costa-Brown himself. The appropriate action is to evacuate civilians and attempt to resolve the situation diplomatically. 

What!? DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE ME! I AM THE PRINZESSIN DES BLITZEN! I AM THE DAUGHTER OF THE RAIDEN SHOGUN! TREMBLE BEFORE ME AND DESPAIR, MORTALS!

Mistress…that makes you sound positively diabolical. 

Oh, er, I mean…I am Lightning Princess Ami! I stand for Truth, Justice, and Eternity! Mine is the passion that burns brightly in the darkest hour, inspiring hope in the people and leading the way to the future! No one pure of heart and mind need fear me, but evildoers, beware! FOR LIGHTNING PRINCESS AMI SHINES ON!

Shall I play your theme song, Mistress?

At once, Murasaki!

KONOSUBA -An Explosion on This Wonderful World! - Opening | STAY FREE

The Second Archon War: Comoedia Glacialis 6

Comoedia Glacialis 6: The Cast Converse of the Future

The Imperial Palace in Tokyo was not frequently clad in snow and ice, but even a week after the global ice storm, temperatures were low enough that it was still dusted with ice and drifts of snow. Ami peered out at the ice from her window and wondered. To her mind, the Archons were gods, like her mother, and heroes. Venti had defeated Khonsu and the Nazis. Nahida had freed her people from a dictator and stopped the Simurgh. And her mother was, of course, the most wonderful and powerful person in the entire world, who had saved Japan and Ami. 

Her sister’s voice drew Ami out of her reverie. “Ami, pay attention. We are about to begin.”

Turning back from the window, Ami hurried over and took a seat beside Tsukoyomi, two places down from her mother. She peered at the map on the table, which showed most of Eurasia, with Japan on one side and Eastern Europe on the other. Various markers were placed on the table to indicate units of Shuumatsuban, and Ami sat up, eagerly awaiting the reports. 

“Well, Tsukuyomi, what news?” Ami’s mother said at last, bringing all conversation to a halt as every eye in the room turned to the Shogun. 

“It is as we suspected: Dantalion, the Cryo Archon, arrived in Russia in the ruins of Moscow,” Tsukoyomi said, and gestured at the table. A few purple sparks crackled, and figures moved across the table, showing Shuumatsuban units infiltrating Russia. “She did not remain there long, however. Our agents failed to locate her before she moved.”

“And where has she gone?” Uncle Mushu rumbled, his brows knitted together. He had small horns growing from his forehead at the moment, which meant he was too upset to be really paying attention to his form. He’d been doing that a lot lately. 

“We have ascertained that she was taken in by one Anatoly Komissarov. A Russian gangster and oligarch from Saint Petersburg,” Tsukoyomi replied, the small blue chess piece to represent Dantilion scooting across the board to rest in a new location. 

“And what has she done?” Ami’s mother asked, her tone serene, but the sky outside flickered with lightning. 

“Thus far…nothing. She appears to have been insensate,” Tsukoyomi admitted. “She awoke not long ago, and according to our agents, slew several gangsters who threatened her. They did not interfere, but the battle was short.”

“Dantalion is young, but she is still an Archon. Few mortals could stand against her. We are fortunate she did not perish in her conflict with the Sustainer. That would have been an unbearable calamity for the world,” her mother stated, looking troubled for once. 

“So what do we do then?” Ami asked. “Is she going to conquer Russia?”

“That could be a problem for us,” the Emperor said with a shake of his head. “Historically, Russia is not a friendly nation. We still have territorial disputes with them regarding the Kuril Islands, though we haven’t pressed them since you returned, Lady Raiden.” 

“We could take them easily,” Keiga said, pointing to the series of islands north of Hokkaido. “Russia is a failed state at the moment. The government in Kamchatka doesn’t even recognize the one in Saint Petersburg as legitimate. They don’t have much of a navy or any capes of real note.”

“Now is not the time to press such claims. Dantalion will soon claim dominion over her lands, and I already sense that they extend to our own borders. Invasion would provoke a conflict between Archons. Something that should be avoided,” Raiden said firmly. “We must still see to it that our own lands are cared for. There are many Sacred Sakura trees left to plant. But I have reached a decision.”

“Oh?” Noriko looked up, frowning. The military talk didn’t interest her much, but mention economics and instruction and she was instantly attentive.

“I can no longer afford to delay restoring the Sakura Network. I will begin planting two trees daily,” Ami’s mother declared, nodding to herself.

“That’s good news, you’ve restored more than half the network, and our power grid is stable now, but that will certainly improve economic conditions,” Noriko said, practically salivating at the thought. 

“Additionally, you will reach out to our allies, particularly the Koreans,” Raiden said, her expression growing pensive. “Ask them if they wish for me to become their god.”

That brought startled murmurs from several advisors and a hard look from Uncle Mushu. “I thought you said you didn’t intend to conquer Korea.”

“Nor do I. Their mortal government must remain their own,” Raiden stated, but her eyes flashed with inner lightning. “But the Tsaritsa is greedy, and her hand stretches far. Korea also shares a border with Russia, and if I do not extend my hand of protection to them, then she is likely to claim dominion. I have grown fond of them, and I hear prayers from their land not infrequently. They must decide if they prefer me, or the Dantalion. I had hoped their choice would be between myself and Morax, but it is not to be so.”

“How, exactly, do we go about asking the Koreans if they want to convert to Shintoism?” the Emperor asked, looking baffled. “It’s not like your religion is particularly prone to proselytizing. It’s always just been the religion of Japan.” 

“There is one we can send, for he has been ever my advocate.” Raiden nodded. “Send for Kenichi the Exile. It is he who shall spread the teachings of Eternity.”

Ami wasn’t sure at first who that was, but Mushu clearly remembered, as did her sister. 

“You would send for that treacherous priest?” Tsukoyomi asked, frowning at their mother. 

“Kenichi’s a zealot, Raiden. I don’t know how good an idea getting that guy back is. He already tried to get Venti killed, and while he ain’t harmless he ain’t hostile either. What’ll he do against an Archon even you think is gonna be a problem?” Mushu asked. 

“We have need of a zealot now. And he understands best my original purpose in bringing about my sister’s eternity,” Raiden said, her expression distant. “And the time of war may yet again be upon us. We must make ready.” Raiden turned to Ami, and nodded to her. “You shall travel to Hokkaido and summon Kenichi. Tell him even he must help to bring about Eternity.”

On hearing this, Ami’s heart raced. An official mission? From her mom? This was exactly what she’d dreamed of! “Should I go in secret, or officially?” Please be secretly, please be secretly…

“It need not be a secret, but do not make a grand procession of it. Most do not know why Kenichi fell out of favor. Nor do I wish them to learn. Especially not now,” her mother told her. 

Bowing, Ami did her best to hide her elation. “I shall make preparations to depart at once.”

Hokkaido wasn’t exactly far away, if she took the train Ami could be there in less than five hours, under two hours if she took a plane. But she had plans for this. After all, it was a secret mission from her mother. That meant, Ami got to travel incognito. 

This would be an excellent chapter of her manga when it was finished, Ami just knew it. 

Despite appearing to be made of ice, the rose in Anastasia’s hands did not melt. It was cold to the touch, and even slightly wet from condensation, but even in her warm hands, it stayed as solid as could be. That was good because it was one of the most delicate and beautiful things Anastasia had ever received, more so than the delicate music boxes she collected, or the fine dolls she’d received as a girl, or even any of the jewelry her brother gave her, all of which was finely made by his jeweler Chiori in Paris. 

Carefully, she set the icy rose on a velvet cushion, then placed that inside of a display case. She stepped back to admire it, smiling to herself. She still remembered the shock at seeing the magical flower appear before her, and the sense of joy and affection that had flowed through it to her when she’d taken it. 

“She’s really awake, like Sleeping Beauty,” Anastasia murmured to herself, grinning like a child.

“A-Anastasia? Um, she wants you. The Tsaritsa,” Kollei’s voice said from behind her. 

Turning, Anastasia saw the other girl behind her, looking nervous as she stared about at the finery in the bedroom around her. It was quite wonderful, Anastasia had to admit, with lavish silk bedsheets, beautiful oil paintings, fine hardwoods and golden ornamentation, and her collections of dolls, music boxes, and her many shoes and dresses. 

Even so, Kollei really was quite adorable, often acting like a much younger girl despite being only a few years younger than Anastasia, though she would be 20 next year. 

“Please, Kollei. We are in private, there is no need to be so formal. Call me Nastya,” Anastasia said, stepping towards Kollei and taking her hands.

The other girl blushed and smiled shyly. “A-alright, Nastya.”

“And what should I call you?” Anastasia asked. “What name did your grandparents call you?”

Kollei blinked at that, not seeing to understand the question. “Um, Kollei. I-I don’t understand…”

Feeling a pang, Anastasia forced a smile. Perhaps the girl didn’t even remember her own name properly. She’d lived in radiation-filled Moscow for years, and from what she has said, had been close to death before the Tsaritsa healed her. “How about Koli? Just a special name, between us.”

“I would like that,” Kollei said, blushing prettily again. She was quite cute with her freckles. “But come on! The Tsaritsa wants you to be there. They’re planning stuff, I don’t understand what, but it seems important.”

“Truly?” That surprised Anastasia. Her brother had never included her in any of his plans, to the point where if she came into a room he would stop discussing business until she left. That had always annoyed her to no end, but at the same time, she appreciated not being forced to confront the more unsavory aspects of their lifestyle. 

“Yeah, she says I have to be there too. Something about me being her daughter? But that can’t be right. You’re the princess, not me,” Kollei said. 

That made Anastasia laugh as she guided Kollei back through the door. “We are sisters now, no? We can be princesses together. I’ll even give you some of my old dresses, though they will have to be adjusted for you.”

“Really!? But they’re so pretty! Like from a story,” Kollei sighed. “I used to dream about being a princess and wearing beautiful clothes, but even in my dreams they weren’t as nice as what you have.”

“You know, I lived for several years as a princess in hiding. That’s all you were too. Now, everything will be wonderful, especially now that the Tsaritsa’s here,” Anastasia said fervently. “That’s how stories go, isn’t it? The rightful ruler returns, and they make everything right.”

“Yes, a wonderful queen, to make the realm just and true,” Kollei agreed. “Maybe she’ll even slay the dragon.”

“I hope so. But at the same time, I hope Behemoth never returns,” Anastasia said with a shudder. Kollei shivered as well, and they stayed silent as they trekked through the halls, still holding hands. 

They headed downstairs to the main dining room, which the Tsaritsa had claimed as her office since returning there the day before. Anastasia recognized several of the men and a few of the women there, knowing they were Anatoly’s employees and lieutenants. She was fairly certain they were all criminals of one kind or another, though beyond that she didn’t know any of them well save for Thoma. 

She smiled at him, and he nodded back to her in that stoic way of his. She did go sit next to Elena by Anatoly, one of the women who looked like a madam getting up and offering her the seat. 

“I’m surprised to see you here as well,” Anastasia whispered to Elena. “Did Anatoly invite you?”

“He sent me away as usual, and I was happy to go, but the Tsaritsa told me to stay. I’m just a dancer, I don’t know anything about Anatoly’s business. I thought it was the same for you,” Elena whispered. 

Anastasia nodded and would have said more, but the Tsaritsa looked up from the sheaf of papers she’d been reading, setting them down. “Are these all your servants, Thief?”

Anatoly hesitated, then said slowly, “These are my subordinates, yes. Though I do not think of myself as a thief, but a businessman. One with a heart of patriotism.”

“Then you deceive yourself. Besides, I have need of a Thief, and you shall be mine. After all, I intend to steal this world from Heaven itself,” the Tsaritsa declared. “But first, we must steal this country back. And for that, I shall require a company of thieves, such as the one you have assembled here.”

Anastasia didn’t consider herself any great scholar or politician, but she didn’t think any other words could have been more perfectly calculated to appeal to the group assembled now. There were many wide grins and a few slapped the table with their palms in approval, though they quickly quieted. 

“I have had time to review the state of this organization, this city of Saint Petersburg, and even this nation of Russia. It seems all have been much abused and maligned. Well. No more. It is time to show Love to the people of this land once more,” the Tsaritsa declared.

A woman with a very low-cut dress and perfume so pungent that Anastasia almost gagged on it leaned forward. “And what sort of love do you intend for us to show, hmm? My girls are lusty, but there are too many men in this country for even them to…love.”

That brought rough chuckles from most of those at the table, though Anastasia felt sick. Anatoly looked furious, but it was Thoma who spoke up. “Keep in mind the company you find yourself in now, Svetlana.”

“I am simply being honest, Foma,” the woman said with a shrug. “I have a certain skill set only. And if I am at this meeting, I can only assume it is because I am to use it.”

“And you shall. There are many forms of Love, and I will see to it that you and your girls are properly instructed in the… arts,” the Tsaritsa said. “If you are to be my new Fatui, that is one thing you must excel in. But that is not what I speak of now. My people feel alone. Abandoned. Hated and loathed by the world. Much as I am. And I shall see them reconciled.”

“The world has turned their back on Russia,” Anatoly said, his voice full of bitterness. “The Soviet Union was hated, yes, but at least it was feared. Now they do not even fear us.”

“They shall learn to do so again. They all shall,” the Tsaritsa said, and her eyes flashed an icy blue that sent a chill down everyone’s spine by the shudders that rippled around the table. “But, before we can do that, we must be seen as strong again, like a mother bear. For now, we are sickly, weak. As the mother of this land, I must first heal it.”

“Heal Russia? You would have to be a god for that,” a burly man with arms as thick as hams snorted.

“Then it is fortunate indeed that she is an Archon,” Anatoly said, glaring at the man. “Be silent, Boris. Before you make a fool of yourself.”

“I steal cars and fence their parts. I am no hero,” Boris laughed, shaking his head. “You may think yourself a boyar, but in my business the quieter you ride the further you'll get. So you found yourself a pretty and powerful cape. Good. So you killed that bastard Viktor. Even better! But you expect me to believe we will conquer all of Russia? Madness. You grow too big for yourself, boss.”

“Through Love, we become that which we must be, not that which we were,” the Tsaritsa said. She looked around the room, then shook her head. “She who must say ‘I am the queen’ is no true ruler. No, instead, it is my deeds that must tell my children their mother has returned. So. What deed will tell everyone that I am here?” 

There were baffled stares all around, and Anastasia’s mind flashed back to the Behemoth. The other Archons had slain Endbringers, but one had appeared only two months gone in Baghdad. Another was not due for months, and she still prayed it did not visit Russia. 

“We could seize control of the government here in Saint Petersburg,” Anatoly offered hesitantly. 

“Every two-bit warlord seizes power in Saint Petersburg. How long has the current President lasted, eh? Two years, now? That proves nothing,” Boris said with a snort. 

“You…you could heal Moscow.”

Every eye in the room turned to Kollei, with several frowning at the nervously fidgeting young girl. “Y-you could! Everyone says that Moscow was the heart of Russia, that the Behemoth tore it out when…when it came…” Kollei lapsed into silence, still looking down and fussing with a pen and piece of paper, though Anastasia knew she couldn’t even form all her letters properly yet.

“Impossible,” Boris said with a snort. “That city will be irradiated for a thousand years. Not even the Sleeper could survive there, which is why that bastard left for Mordovia.” 

“Radiation,” the Tsaritsa said slowly. “That is the poison that was in your body, was it not, daughter?” 

Kollei nodded quickly. “ Yes! And you healed me! Could…could you heal Moscow, too?”

The Tsaritsa drummed her fingers on the table before her, her eyes narrowed in thought. “It is a strange sickness. Almost like the corruption from a Dead God. And yet…not. But yes. I could cleanse it, for it is simply energy. Easy enough to deal with. But what of this Sleeper? Who is this?”

“One of the most powerful and dangerous parahumans in the world,” Thoma said, shaking his head. “He is so powerful no one truly knows the full extent of his abilities. I say him, but I am simply assuming. I don’t think anyone has gotten close to the Sleeper and lived. Not even the damn Americans want to face him, though they tried to recruit him to fight Endbringers. His response was six dead American capes. They did not ask again, nor even trouble him over much when they leveled the city he had occupied in response. The Red Gauntlet tried to contact him and had similar results. He triggered shortly after Moscow fell, but as Boris said, he departed from there. Some say he is why Behemoth departed at all, but I cannot say for certain.”

“So this Sleeper, he is a threat to Russia then?” the Tsaritsa asked. 

Anatoly shook his head. “Not so much. He is a hermit. He usually sticks to the countryside and stays in place for long periods before wandering again. He does not seek out conflict, and that is why he is called Sleeper. It is like the proverb: ‘Do not wake Evil while it is sleeping.’”

“Still, he is frightening,” Anastasia said, surprised to hear herself speak. “He is surely the most feared man in all of Russia, and before the arrival of the Raiden Shogun, was the most feared being on Earth Bet.”

Upon hearing that, a slow, wintery smile formed like frost on the Tsaritsa’s lips. “Then it is settled. On the morrow, we depart first for Mordovia. Then, we retake Moscow for the people. Have most of your men head for Moscow. Use our resources to purchase food and medical supplies, then order building supplies. My first act shall be to subdue the Sleeper, the second to rebuild Moscow as my capital.”

Anatoly nodded, and began to issue orders. His underlings stood as they received them and departed, until it was only Anastasia, Elena, Thoma, Kollei, and the Tsaritsa at the table with him. 

“Even with my resources, it will not be possible to purchase and move enough materials to rebuild the city, let alone feed all the poor souls there,” Anatoly admitted, looking abashed to have to admit that he did not have the surely trillions in hard currency. 

“It is important simply to begin. Once people see, they will begin to flock to my banner. Or flock to oppose me. One way or another, I will prove my Love to this nation,” the Tsaritsa said with a regal nod. 

“What of our operations here?” Thoma asked, looking concerned. “We will still need cash. Not to mention that if we are lax, there are plenty of other organizations that will step in to fill our shoes.”

“The criminal activity will cease,” the Tsaritsa said flatly. “If you must sell poisons, do so in other lands. It is one thing to harm others to benefit your family. You do not do the same to your own home.” 

“We don’t have the network for that,” Anatoly said with a groan. “Thoma?”

“I have some connections as usual, but it will take time to move into new markets. And Germany is right out. The Knights of Favonius are particularly good at dismantling shipments.”

“Barbatos,” the Tsaritsa growled, and the temperature of the room dropped several degrees as frost blanketed the area around her. She took a deep breath and the rime faded, then schooled her expression again. “Pump as many of your poisons into his lands as possible. I want that fool to see his people suffer, as mine did.”

“It will be done,” Thoma agreed, jotting down a note to himself. 

“Thoma should stay in Saint Petersburg to oversee things while I accompany you,” Anatoly said suddenly. He nodded to his aide, who couldn’t completely hide his surprise. “He is a good man, and I trust him like a brother. Competent as well.”

“Then it shall be so. Kollei shall remain behind as well, to attend to her studies. She has much to learn to become my heir,” the Tsaritsa said, nodding to Kollei. 

“Look after Anastasia as well. I am trusting you with her and Elena’s safety,” Anatoly said, which made Anastasia’s heart flutter with glee slightly. To have Thoma as her knightly protector…it was terribly romantic, was it not? She wondered if he could dance. 

“No harm shall come to any of the ladies, I swear,” Thoma said, bowing his head and putting a hand to his heart. “And I will find a tutor for Kollei, when I cannot teach her myself. She is a good student, and a hard worker. She will learn quickly.” 

Anatoly nodded and smiled. “Good, then we shall- my Lady?”

The Tsaritsa had suddenly stood, her nostrils flaring. “Who dares intrude upon us?”

There was a pause, then a heavy sigh as an unfamiliar woman’s voice said, “Aw man, and I had a cool intro and everything planned.” 

Then a head stuck into the room, wearing a fedora of all things, and the woman smiled. “Hello! Sorry to intrude but is this the residence of the Cryo Archon?”

Anatoly and Thoma were on their feet, with guns appearing in their hands. Kollei had drawn a wicked-looking knife from somewhere and was on her feet as well, while Anastasia and Elena were still too shocked to respond. Apparently, her own reflexes needed honing, and she’d left her gun in her room. 

“You are in our presence, mortal. Who dares approach us?” the Tsaritsa demanded icily, not rising from her own seat. 

In response, the woman stepped fully into the room, removing her hat, then dropping to one knee. “O god of Ice and Snow, this humble supplicant comes to seek wisdom and gain knowledge from the divine. In return, I bring these humble offerings of food and drink.”

She beckoned, and Anastasia gasped in horror as two monsters stepped out of the shadows. One looked like a giant cockroach the size of man, the other like some sort of putrid man-shaped blob with sickening growths all over his body. Both knelt and held out trays. One held a box of donuts, the other a steaming collection of…was that Starbucks? 

“If these offerings are not acceptable, this humble pilgrim will gladly find an offering more suitable to your tastes,” the strange woman said, still kneeling with her head bowed. 

“No. These are…acceptable. Rise, pilgrim. I sense you are not one of mine, but it is gratifying indeed to find a mortal who knows how to treat with gods. What is your name?” the Tsaritsa demanded. 

The woman stood, putting her hat back on her head. “My parents named me Fortuna. But you can call me Contessa.”

This Goddess Must Be Crazy: Chapter 55

They made their way down the now sparkling clean sewer pipes, pausing only long enough for Tanya to do something she claimed was very important, but turned out to be her inspecting the maintenance logs. 

“As I suspected, they haven’t been properly servicing the sewage system!” Tanya said triumphantly after flipping through a clipboard on the wall.

“OK, and that helps us how?” Izuku said with a sigh. “We really don’t have time for this.” 

“It means that they’re at risk for the spread of disease, which could lower their combat effectiveness,” Tanya stated, hanging the clipboard carefully back in its place. “Never underestimate the importance of good sanitation for unit effectiveness.”

“That would probably be more important if they weren't, you know, zombies,” Kazuma pointed out.

“She does have a point, you know,” Iris said uncertainly. “Even the undead need proper waste management. Could we exploit this somehow?”

“Unless Ainz is prone to getting the runs, no,” Kazuma said flatly. “Now come on. We’re at the final boss. Be serious! This would be a really lame time to die.”

“Then you should stay with Aqua, Kazuma, as you tend to die the most,” Mei told him, causing Kazuma to look highly offended.

“You should all stick close to me,” Aqua said, her eyes glowing blue as she peered towards the exit they were descending to. “I can smell a powerful undead. It’s really stinky now, even worse than all the poop and stuff. I can smell demons too.”

“So can I. I think Ainz has all his remaining minions gathered around him in the throne room. Get ready, everyone,” Chris said grimly. 

“Wait, I have an idea,” Kazuma said, looking at the clipboard Tanya had returned. “This actually is a well-laid out sewer system.”

Tanya preened, but everyone else ignored her, save for Visha who ruffled her lover’s hair and smiled ruefully. 

“So what’s the plan then?” Uraraka asked, coming over to peer over Kazuma’s shoulder. 

“Well, they’re probably expecting us to come through here. But I have another idea,” Kazuma said with a grin. “Who’s ever flooded a bathroom before?”

Mei instantly raised her hand, a serious expression on her face. “You should always flush after using 20 squares of toilet paper. And do not try to put your sister’s pet lizard down the toilet to see if it will grow into an alligator.”

“I…suppose that would be a valuable lesson,” Izuku agreed, fighting back a laugh. He’d have to ask Hari about that story later. “But you think we should go in through the bathroom? Will the pipes be big enough?”

“Not normally. But they would be with some explosives,” Kazuma said.

“I don’t know, Kazuma. I think I should save my mana for the final boss,” Megumin said dubiously. 

“Not you!” Kazuma said, pointing at Bakugo. “Captain Angry Eyes!”

“Goddammit, Deku, when did you tell him about the toilets I blew up!” Bakugo snapped. 

“I-I didn’t say anything!” Izuku protested, raising his hands in the air.

“Wait, toilets, plural? What did you even do, Bakugo?” Uraraka demanded. 

“This is not the time for this, though I will insist on hearing full details later,” Iris said. “Can you do it, Itsuki?”

“Yeah, I mean, probably. Will it let us get the drop on these assholes?” Bakugo demanded. 

“Better than waltzing in through the front door,” Kazuma said.

“Fine. I’ll blow up another toilet. But no one tell my mom,” Bakugo muttered. 

“I can use my babies to help! Don’t worry Bakugo, I won’t tell on you that we blew up a toilet together,” Mei promised him, which made Bakugo growl in irritation.

It didn’t take them long to find where the bathroom was, or for Mei to come up with some charges that would get them through the wall and ceiling and into the bathroom. 

“You think this is like, the Lord of the Tomb’s private bathroom?” Sero asked nervously as they ducked around a corner. 

“He’s a giant skeleton. I don’t think he needs a bathroom,” Uraraka pointed out. 

“I know, but I mean, what if he like, wants to wash his hands or something? Ugh, never mind, just blow it up,” Sero muttered, blushing as the others stared at him.

“Fire in the hole!” Mei said gleefully, and pressed the plunger on her makeshift detonator. The blast sent a cascade of dust and a deafening roar down the passage, but no sooner had the shockwave faded than Bakugo shouted his own defiance and charged back down. 

“TIME TO TEAR THIS TOILET A NEW ASSHOLE!” 

With a few well-timed blasts, Bakugo cleared enough space for them to climb up into the bathroom, which was rapidly flooding as the damaged sink and toilet leaked. The entire place had once been some sort of communal restroom, with stalls and mirrors that were now in utter disarray. There were even hand dryers that were whining noisily, and a sign that said “Employees must wash hands, claws, and/or tentacles before returning to work.” 

Unless Izuku very much missed his guess, Tanya was probably responsible for that. 

Izuku was first through the door, kicking it so hard it went flying across the wide chamber beyond and clattering off the far wall. He had just enough time to a long wide hall with dozens of banners hanging from the dark corners of the ceiling before he was piled onto by the others behind him and forced to stumble out into the hallway. 

“What is the meaning of this?! Guards, dispose of these interlopers!” 

Izuku turned to see a massive throne, with a skeletal figure with a large bony mantle and black robe sitting upon it, extending a finger towards him. Then a dozen skeletons in gleaming golden armor attacked him,  each wielding a jeweled weapon that glowed with power. Their movements were smooth and coordinated, the group coming at him as a single unit, surrounding Izuku on all sides. 

“ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SMASH!” 

Skeletons that moved at superhuman speeds were still painfully slow compared to sparing with Iris or All Might, and Izuku’s single punch smashed two of the golden-clad undead to bits, while three more went sprawling. 

“SACRED EXPLODE!”

“LIGHT OF SABER!” 

“HOWITZER IMPACT!” 

“BARRICADE TAPE!” 

The various spells and attacks from the rest of the group vaporized the nearest skeletons, but more were pouring out from the many alcoves around them. 

“Surround them! Hack them down! For Lord Ainz!” a giant blue insectile creature was raising a great halberd and pointing it at them, while a crowd of massive lizard men carrying axes and spears rushed in. 

“Clever, Cocytus brought someone immune to Aqua’s spells,” Kazuma commented. “Still, it won’t matter. Aqua, do your thing!” 

“But Kazuma-!” Aqua protested, even as more armored skeletons closed in from the right and the lizardmen came in from the left. 

“But nothing, make the undead go bye-bye!” Kazuma ordered, trying to guard Aqua from a massive golden skeleton. 

Chris intercepted it, deflecting a blow with her daggers, then slicing off one leg. “Hurry, Aqua!” 

“Oh, fine, they all stink anyway! SACRED TURN UNDEAD!” Aqua chanted, and a glowing blue circle the center of the hall. 

“NO! HOW CAN THIS BE! AHHHHH!” the lich on the throne screamed, even as the golden minions all turned to ash. The Lizard Men, however, were unaffected, and continued their charge forward, right into Iris and Bakugo, who appeared to be testing out “will it blend,” but with swords and explosions. So far, the answer was yes. 

Back on the throne, the overlord sagged on the throne, looking slightly blackened. “You…you cannot defeat me! I am Ainz Ooal Gown! Master of Nazerick! I will-”

“ONE FOR ALL, 1000% SMASH!” Izuku cried and jumped forward. He let everything out in a single punch, cracking the massive throne in half and obliterating the wall behind. He guarded against the dust he kicked up, but when he could see, there was nothing left but shattered bones and tattered robes. He gingerly picked up the skull that had fallen off the body, only for it to crumble to dust in his hands. 

“Huh?” Izuku blinked, then turned back to watch the battle. 

“No! Lord Ainz! Fall back, you fools! Fall-” the blue insect was crying, as the remaining lizard men were breaking before the assault of the rest of the group. A glowing spear of plasma took the insect thing in the head from Yunyun, followed by a barrage from Mei’s guns. He snarled and swung his spear, carving a great gash in the pillars and floor from the blow. “ACALA’S SWORD!” 

The blow, however, came to a stop when Iris caught it on her blade, and the blonde queen grinned. “At last. A worthy opponent.”

“You will die where you stand, interloper! FROST BREATH!” A storm of icy wind bellowed out from the creature’s maw, but Bakugo countered with a fiery explosion of his own. 

“A lot of assholes have tried, you’re just the latest! Time to clean up and finish this thing!” Bakugo snarled. 

The others piled in as well, and the blue creature was soon dealing with attacks from behind from Chris, spells from Yunyun, and giant objects dropped by Uraraka on him. Even as that happened, Izuku poked at the throne, frowning to himself.

“Izuku! What is wrong? Did the Lord of the Tomb escape?” Mei asked, hurrying up beside him. 

“No, I…I think I killed him. It’s just…compared to that vampire…it was so easy,” Izuku said, shaking his head in disbelief. Should he go and help? The others seemed to have it covered.

“We did have Aqua, and she is very good at killing undead,” Mei pointed out, but she was frowning as well. “Still, this seems too easy. He was just sitting there.”

“Yeah, it’s been all clever tactics and traps up until now. Something’s off,” Izuku agreed.

“You are correct, Midoriya. That was not Ainz.” 

They turned to see Tanya and Visha tramp up the steps, a frown on Tanya’s face. She knelt, examining the robes, then stood and nodded. “Yes, that was a decoy dressed in Ainz’s clothes. Probably Aurelius, or possibly Ulpius. It matters not. They were clearly a distraction.”

“I TOLD you, Kazuma! That wasn’t Ainz! Ainz smells different,” Aqua complained, dragging Kazuma over even as the blue insect bellowed a cry of pain and dropped his halberd, only to draw out two massive swords and renew his assault in a flurry of blows that Iris and Bakugo managed to parry, even as the others continued to pour in attacks. 

“What!? You didn’t say anything!” Kazuma protested, but he grimaced. “Yeah, that did feel too easy. A OHKO on the final boss? Yeah, no way. Ok, so, where is he then?”

“It is unfortunate you damaged the throne, or we could use it to search for him,” Tanya commented. “It allows you to see any resident of Nazerick’s location in the Tomb, as well as their status.”

“Huh. Hey, Aqua, think we can fix it?” Kazuma said, pulling out a set of small tools. 

“I mean, probably, it’s just a stupid chair,” Aqua said. “Come on, Mei, you’re good at fixing things, help us out”! 

With that sorted out, Izuku turned back just in time to see Iris leap up, planting her sword in the blue monster’s forehead. It stood transfixed for a moment as Iris drove her blade in deeply, a snarl of triumph on her face. Then she twisted her sword and jerked it out, and the creature dropped its weapons, then toppled to the ground with a mighty crash. 

“Nice one, queenie!” Bakugo said, hurrying over to pull Iris to her feet, then embraced her. The others cheered, pumping their fists and celebrating. 

“We did it, we defeated the Lord of the Tomb!” Sero cried, high-fiving Tokoyami then turning to hug Yunyun.

“Um, actually…that wasn’t Ainz,” Izuku called, and the cheering died down instantly. 

“The fuck are you talking about, Deku? You and Aqua iced that fucker on the throne, I saw it!” Bakugo shouted. 

“It was a decoy. The real Ainz wouldn’t have gone down so easily,” Izuku said, shaking his head. “They clearly knew we were coming for the Throne Room. This could be a trap. Stay on your guard.”

“We killed their lame ass trap,” Bakugo grumbled, but he went with the others to check the exits. 

After several minutes, the group working on the throne had repaired it, and Kazuma took a seat. “Eheheh. Guess now I’m the evil overlord.”

“If you are, then I guess we have to kill you now. It’s OK, Aqua can bring you back,” Mei told him. 

“Just kidding,” Kazuma said hastily, smiling uneasily at the laser cannon Mei had pointed in his general direction.

“I was also joking! Ha ha, it is funny!” Mei laughed, and Kazuma chuckled weakly. 

“Uh, yeah. Anyway, I can see everyone’s status. And wouldn’t you know it, there are four people named Ainz Ooal Gown showing up. One here on the tenth floor in the library, another on the ninth floor in the harem quarters, another on the 6th floor in the amphitheater, and the last all the way up on the first floor, don’t know how we missed them. And they’ve all got hordes of minions around them, including some really powerful ones.”

Tanya’s brow furrowed. “Then we shall have to face each one in turn in hopes of finding the true Ainz Ooal Gown. But how did he manage this?”

“Looks like there’s a button to edit NPC names, he must have used that to disguise his minions like himself,” Kazuma said. “But I don’t think any of them are the real deal.”

“What makes you say that?” Izuku asked, pacing over to stand beside Kazuma, though he couldn’t see the map himself. 

Shaking his head, Kazuma grinned. “It’s a shell game. And what’s the first rule of a shell game?” 

“None of the shells have the ball under it,” Visha said, nodding. “It’s a grift. So, none of the decoys are the real Ainz. He will have edited his name as well.”

“But what would he change his name to?” Kazuma muttered, his eyes flicking over the map only he could see.

Aqua bit her lip, then asked, “Can you look for Momonga?” 

Kazuma muttered to himself, then shook his head. “No dice. No one by that name.”

“Then…then look for Suzuki Satoru,” Aqua said, looking sick as she said it. 

It took only a few seconds that time, but Kazuma nodded. “Huh. Yeah, I can find that, actually. But it revealed a new area. Somewhere called the Treasury. It says access is forbidden.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Tanya agreed. She reached into her jacket, then withdrew a large signet ring. “Try with this.”

Kazuma slipped the ring on, then brightened. “Yeah! That did work! Oh, shit. It says I can only take a party of five with me. Uh, that’s a problem.”

“That does make things harder,” Izuku agreed. He frowned, considering. “Can we get more of these rings?” 

“Unlikely. Ainz guarded them carefully. I was awarded one for my services as his Godslayer. Check the corpse of Cocytus, the creature that was just slain, for he had one as well.”

They searched the corpse of the insectile guardian but found no ring.

“Makes sense, he wanted to be in his panic room with no one able to access it,” Kazuma said with a nod. “There’s not even anyone else in there. Demiurge is with the imposter in the library, and Albedo, the other super-strong one, is in the harem wing. I wonder if they even realize their boss has ditched them?” 

“Likely they know, but are too loyal to him to protest,” Tanya said with a shake of her head. “Right. Sato, myself, Aqua, Midoriya, and one other.”

“Me,” Bakugo said, stepping forward. “I’m coming for this one.”

“Hey, why you?” Dark Shadow squawked. “I’m tough too! I could kick this bad guy’s ass!”

“Dark Shadow, peace. I do not like it, but if there is room only for five, that seems wise,” Tokoyami said with a shake of his head. 

“I would protest, but I must slay the Demiurge,” Iris said. “Go in my stead, Katsuki. Finish this.”

“If it’s just Ainz, that’s still a brutal battle. Sure you won’t need a rock steady protector?” Kirishima asked. 

“Nah, we bring our hardest hitters and kick his ass. Then we blow this place and go home,” Bakugo snarled, slamming his fists together in a puff of smoke.

“If our strongest might is needed, I should go!” Megumin declared.

“The treasury is tiny. No Explosions there,” Kazuma said. He stepped forward, wrapping Megumin in a tight hug. “Sorry, Explosion Loli. You gotta sit this one out.”

“D-do, do not call me…” Megumin hiccuped, then closed her eyes and squeezed Kazuma tightly. “Come back, you understand? After unleashing your righteous vengeance!” 

Izuku took a moment to hug Mei tightly. “I’ll come back, OK?”

“You have to,” Mei told him, squeezing him so hard he thought his bones would break. “We still have so many adorable babies to make together.”

“Get rid of him. For me, for the chief, for everyone,” Chris told Aqua, hugging her as well. “Kick his butt, senpai!”

“I will, Eris. I promise. Then we can go home,” Aqua promised, hugging Eris back and sniffling. 

Tanya saluted Visha, who returned it, then pulled her into a kiss. “Make up for what we did wrong, Major.”

“Nothing can change the past. But I will restore our honor,” Tanya promised. 

Farewells said, the five of them joined hands, with Tanya slipping on the ring. “The air there is poisoned. The traps will activate the moment we get there. Aqua, I take it you can solve that problem?”

“Psh, poison in the air? I’m immune to poison, and I can purify a whole building with just a word! Don’t worry about it,” Aqua bragged. 

“Now you tell me,” Kazuma muttered. “Shouldn’t we put on gas masks or something?”

“It will eat the flesh from your bones, that will not help,” Tanya told him. “Either Aqua saves us, or we are all dead. Are you ready?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Izuku nodded. Time to finish this, once and for all. 

As soon as they finished teleporting, Aqua felt her skin itch. She wasn’t too worried about herself, poison would just give her a rash no matter how potent it was, but the thought of Izuku or Kazuma dying was too painful to contemplate. “PURIFICATION! PURIFICATION! SACRED PURIFICATION!” 

The itching stopped, and Aqua looked around hopefully. The air was clear now, with even the poison in the traps having been totally cleansed. Now, a light mist of minty-smelling water was coming out instead, which was nice. 

The room itself was bare stone walls with glowing blue bands, filled only with a pair of couches and a coffee table, though the doors to the main treasury were behind that. The sole occupant of the room was a skeletal lich in plain brown robes, who stood up in shock at seeing them teleport in. 

“How-!? I mean, did Lord Ainz send you here, strangers?” the skeleton demanded. 

“Give it up, Ainz,” Tanya said, stepping forward with her gun in hand. “Your deception was clever, I admit, but you cannot fool a fool. And I brought plenty of those with me.”

“I resemble that remark,” Kazuma drawled in an Osaka accent, then shook his head. “Alright, you boney bastard! It’s payback time!” 

“Yeah, we’re going to-” Bakugo began, but the Overlord raised a hand.

“Time Stop.”

Aqua felt the world around her freeze, and sighed, pushing past her friends to stop forward. “I knew you’d try that, Momonga. Or are you back to calling yourself Suzuki Satoru?”

“A-Aqua,” Ainz gasped, nearly tripping over the couch. “How can you- but this is 10th Tier Magic! To resist it so easily!”

“I’m a goddess. Time doesn’t flow the same for us.” Aqua felt tears in her eyes and continued to walk forward, even as Ainz scrambled over the back of the couch and backed up towards the wall. “How could you do all this, Momonga! We were friends! I thought…I thought you were like Wiz! Undead, but you know, one of the good ones! But you killed so many people, hurt so many of my friends! Why!?”

“Stay away from me! Or I will slay the ones with you!” the skeleton threatened, pointing a finger at the group.

Aqua rolled her eyes, then stamped her foot in frustration. “Sacred Dispel!” 

Time resumed, and Ainz snarled in frustration. 

“-kick your boney- wait, how’d you move so fast?!” Bakugo demanded. 

“I…Please. I do not wish to die,” Ainz said, feeling for the door to the treasury behind him. “Do not…do not kill me.”

“Because we were friends, I won’t,” Aqua promised. “Sorry, Kazuma, Izuku. I can’t let you kill him.”

“Aqua, NO!” Kazuma cried, and Izuku moved forward in a burst of speed, even as Ainz pointed a finger and shouted, “Grasp Heart!”

“Sacred Resurrection,” Aqua said, as the death magic slid off her harmlessly. 

Ainz howled in pain, and Kazuma ran up to her even as Bakugo blasted forward. 

“What the hell was that!?” Bakugo snarled. “You almost-”

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Aqua begged, brushing past Izuku to kneel on the floor beside the panting target of her magic. “He…he was a good friend, once.”

“Well. Now that is ironic,” Tanya said, stepping forward and lowering her gun. “And somehow, appropriate, I think.”

The figure on the floor wasn’t a skeleton anymore. Instead, it was plain looking Japanese man in his mid-30s, with pale skin and sunken, empty eyes. 

“What…what have you done to me?” he gasped, reaching up to touch his face. “Aqua, what did you DO!?”

“Being undead makes you do horrible things,” Aqua told him gently. “So I resurrected you. Now you can be a good guy again.”

“You made me an ordinary human again?!” The man stood on shaking legs, his face going purple with rage. “Like this, I’m nothing but a corporate drone! Change me back! I had everything I wanted until you came to take it away! Change me back! If my servants see me like this, they’ll kill me!” 

“Now there’s an idea,” Kazuma said with a wicked grin. “Throw him to Demiurge. See how that son of a bitch likes it. Maybe he’ll skin you too and use your meat to feed the pigs.”

“No! Anything but that! Please, no!” the man begged, falling to his knees. “I…I can’t…Tanya, please, help me! You were my friend, you-”

“Why did the gods have to die, Momonga, was it? It doesn’t matter. You lied to me. Used me. But I will grant you mercy.” Tanya’s gun whipped up, pointing at the man’s forehead. “It’s better than you deserve.”

Izuku barely slapped Tanya’s arm up before she fired, the bullet slapping into the wall as the man wailed in terror and wet himself. “Tanya! You can’t just execute him in cold blood!” 

“Try me, Midoriya. I’ve done worse,” Tanya told the boy, jerking her arm away. She frowned at the pitiful wretch weeping before her. “Save your pity for someone who deserves it. Not a monster like him or me.”

“This is all a mistake! I never asked for this!” the man begged. “Please, you-”

“I am not listening to this.” Tanya stepped forward, opening the door to the treasury. “There are things here that could aid in defeating the remaining forces. I will retrieve them. Do what you wish with that wretch, but if it were up to me, I would kill him and burn the body.”

Aqua looked at the pitiful thing that had been the Lord of the Tomb and felt only pity. “We can’t just kill him, what do we do?”

“Turn around for 10 seconds and I’ll solve that problem for you,” Bakugo growled.

“Itsuki…” Izuku said in a warning tone.

“Fuck off, I know. But it would be justice. Fucker’s killed how many millions? Maybe billions. Shit.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Aqua said softly, reaching out to touch  Momonga’s cheek. “You’re human again. You can have a chance to-”

He slapped her hand away, anger the only thing in his eyes. “Curse you! I had the perfect fantasy life, the game I always wanted come to life, minions that adored me, and worlds to conquer and do what I wished with! You were the only thing that could have stopped me! Why couldn’t you just leave me alone!”

“You invaded our home, pal. And for the record, I am one-hundred percent on board with Team Frag His Ass,” Kazuma said, baring Chunchumaru meaningfully. 

“Actually, it would be a big help to both of us if you didn’t,” a chipper woman’s voice said, and Aqua’s heart sank as she spun about.

“Yes. We’re going to need him,” the nasal voice of King Kai said as he stepped forward with Haruhi. “The easy part is over. Now, it’s time for the gods to handle things.”

“Oh no,” Aqua groaned. How had she screwed up this time?

The Second Archon War, Comoedia Glascialis 5

Comoedia Glacialis 5: The Curtain Rises, the Show Begins

Looking out at his trellises, Saad felt his heart sink into his stomach. He tramped along the tilled rows of rich, tilled earth, his feet crunching on dead leaves and ice. This was not how it was supposed to be. It did not snow in Nagaa, Egypt. And yet it had. For an entire day, wicked winds had blown, and the snow had piled up in drifts up to a meter tall. And now, his entire crop was dead. 

He bent, examining one of the trailing vines of his beans, but it was withered and brown, the plant dead as can be. He closed his eyes, and he sank to his knees. Behind him, he heard his sons arguing, his wife weeping. What could he do? He barely made enough money to survive as it was. Now, their entire winter crop was dead. 

“What should I do? Curse Allah, and die?” Saad whispered, tears on his wrinkled old cheeks. He clutched at his hair, ready to pull it out in sheer frustration and desperation. What sort of world was this, where devils danced and made ice and snow fall from what had been sunny skies?

“Father, something is coming!” his oldest, Abdul, cried, shaking his shoulder. 

“What does it matter?” Saad said, not bothering to even lift his head. “We are finished.”

“No, LOOK! Something is coming, and the farms, all along the river, they are blooming!” 

Saad’s head jerked up, and his eyes went wide in astonishment. Along the banks of the Nile, a carpet of flowers was spreading out as a bright green spark raced along the banks. He stood, scrambling to his feet and hurrying over to the stone wall that marked his property line to watch. 

“What is it, Abdul? These old eyes do not see so well now,” Saad said, clutching his son’s arm. 

In response, Abdul picked up his own son, Saad the Small, and lifted him to his shoulder. “What do you see?”

“A fairy,” the boy answered instantly. “A djinn! She is green, with wings like a dragonfly! It is Nahida Saeed!”

“Impossible, she is in Iraq,” Saad muttered. But as he watched, the spark drew closer, moving at a good clip. Soon, even he could see the silver hair and insect-like wings on the back of what looked like a little girl with pointed ears. She saw them, pausing in her flight to wave. 

Fear not, for I am with you. I will not let the mouths of the righteous amongst my people go unfed. 

The voice was clear and musical, and it reminded Saad of his granddaughters. Then the green sprite turned about, and raced down the river again, life spreading in her wake. When Saad turned, he fell to his knees in awe and wonder and praised God. 

For all his crops had not just been restored, but had grown taller and stronger than before. His bean plants were now heavy with grown beans, earlier than he would have expected. 

“Allah is merciful and kind,” Abdul said, his own voice tremulous. “We are saved.”

“God is great,” Saad agreed, but his mind went to that green fairy who had wrought this miracle. He did not understand how, nor why, but he did not care. He and his family would survive because of Nahida Saeed, the one they called Lesser Lord Kusinali. And it was to her he would be saying prayers of thanks that night, and for many nights to come. 

All across the Middle East, from Egypt to Turkey, then across the Arabian Peninsula to as far away as parts of India, green specters visited, renewing frozen fields and withered crops. Even in remote places, the Lord of Dendro walked, though it took her many weeks to do so. In some regions, she sent her Dragon, called Sayidat Alzuhur, or the Lady of Flowers. In the end, the Middle East experienced not a food shortfall, but instead a bumper crop that winter. 

And it was sorely needed. For there were cold dark days ahead. 

The dirty alley was stained with blood and had corpses in it, but Kollei ignored them. She had seen dead men before, even killed a few herself. She had eyes only for her savior, standing with her sword like a heroic knight of old, surveying all those who knelt before her. Eyes filling with tears, Kollei felt embarrassed to even be here. What sort of person was she? Anatoly was handsome and rich, and these others were stronger and smarter than she was. She was a bug, not worthy of even being in the presence of someone so beautiful and terrible as the Tsaritsa. 

To Kollei’s shock though, the Tsarita’s cold blue eyes met hers, and for a moment, they thawed slightly. 

“Kollei Moskaylova. Arise.”

At first, Kollei could not believe her ears. This wonderful being was speaking, to her? But the Tsaritsa’s eyes were locked to hers, and swallowing, Kollei got unsteadily to her feet. The Tsaritsa smiled at her, and beckoned to her. 

“Come forward, child.”

Awkwardly, Kollei stepped forward, over the rubble and dead bodies, to where the Tsaritsa stood. She made as if to kneel, but the other woman caught her arm. 

“Stay on your feet, Kollei. When the world had abandoned me, you alone found me. Though you had nothing, you gave all to me,” the Tsaritsa said, her tones soft and gentle, but cold as a midwinter day. 

“I-I didn’t do anything. I just…you looked so beautiful,” Kollei stammered, licking her lips, unable to continue meeting the gaze of this being. What was she? A saint? An angel? A witch? Or perhaps, a god?

“You gave me water and warmth, and most importantly, your faith. Know that in my empire, you will always have a place. It seems that Beezlebul has taken a ward. I shall do the same. You will be Kollei Moskaylova no longer. From this day forward, you will be Kollei Synezhnaya.”

Then to Kollei’s shock, the Tsaritsa embraced her, and kissed her affectionately on the forehead. “You have found a home, my daughter.”

Kollei started trembling all over, then buried her face in the Tsaritsa’s chest, hugging her tightly. She couldn’t speak, too overcome with emotion. For so long, she had longed for a family. Now she had Anastasia, Anatoly, and even the Tsaritsa. 

“I’ve been alone for so long,” Kollei hiccuped when she could speak again. 

“As have I, my child. As have I. But no longer.” Gently, the Tsaritsa lifted a lace hankie to Kollei’s eyes and dried her tears. “But you must have a heart of ice, my daughter. For our road is a long and harsh one.”

That Kollei didn’t understand, but she nodded anyway. For the first time in years, someone saw her. The Tsaritsa understood her, knew her, and despite all that, loved Kollei anyway. In return, she loved this woman so much it hurt. Whatever the Tsaritsa asked of her, Kollei would do. After all, who wouldn’t do anything for their mother? 

Gently, the Tsaritsa guided Kollei to stand at her side, then looked around at the mobsters around her. Her lips thinned, especially when her gaze swept over the two still-wounded capes. “So, did the Sustainer send you, Cursed Ones, to torment me? Or did you truly seek to slay your god and queen of your own accord?”

“F-forgive us, Lady,” the one with the gadgets gasped. “We…we thought we were attacking that upstart, Anatoly Borisevich and his Nazi henchmen. We didn’t realize…didn’t know…”

He trailed off, going pale. Kollei could tell he would die, if he didn’t get treatment. He’d lost a great deal of blood, and more was trickling out. 

“Thoma is no fascist!” Anatoly snarled, suddenly standing up. “He is German, yes, but he is my comrade!”

The Tsaritsa raised a single finger, and Anatoly fell silent. “It would be unwise for one who seeks clemency to disparage one of my retainers. Especially since ignorance is no defense. But as I said: I am a merciful god. If you throw yourself at my feet, perhaps this lesson shall cost you only your arm.” 

The one who had been speaking, the Tinker, fell flat on his face and began to weep and beg, but the ugly one with the long fingernails spat at the Tsaritsa’s feet. “You are no god, but the Devil. I am a good Christian man, whatever else I have done, I will not blaspheme against Christ.”

Kollei fully expected the Tsaritsa to part the idiot’s head from his shoulders, but instead she studied the man. After a moment, she reached down, and touched the groveling one’s hand. His stump froze over, and he gasped out thanks as his wound was healed. Then the Tsaritsa touched the defiant one. He cried out in pain and defiance but then gasped like a man dunked in ice water. A moment later, a new arm sprouted from where he had lost his. 

Looking down at it in wonder, the ugly parahuman flexed his new fingers, which were tinted slightly blue. Then he looked up in confusion. “But…but you said…I did not deny Jesus…”

“You love your god, that I can see. As the God of Love, I cannot but respect your devotion. This Christ Jesus, he is not the Sustainer, yes?”

“I…I do not know what this Sustainer is,” the man admitted. 

“The golden false god who calls himself the Warrior. The one whom I battled,” the Tsaritsa clarified. 

“No! The Devil’s balls, but I don’t worship him! He’s nothing but another false hero,” the man said, shaking his head and crossing himself. 

“Then go, find your god, and tell them these are now my lands. Perhaps we can make a treaty, if he is as loving as his follower is.”

“I…” the man blinked at the Tsaritsa, clearly confused as Kollei was. Find Jesus and speak to him? Kollei had gone to church and prayed with her grandparents as a child, and she had continued to do so, out of hope in Heaven even after they were dead. But there was certainly no God in the hopeless land called Russia.

Or at least, there hadn’t been. 

“I…I will speak with Father Dmitri,” the cape agreed, slowly getting to his feet. “I don’t know if you’re just a madwoman or the Devil’s sister. But…thank you. For sparing my life, and this.”

With that, the man stumbled away, heading off down the street. 

“He is a dangerous cape. It might not be wise to let him live.”

Kollei turned to see Anatoly standing on the Tsaritsa’s left, a hard look in his eyes. “Nogut is not the smartest, but if he lives, he will attach himself to someone else, very likely someone who would oppose us.”

“Are you always so thirsty for blood, child?” the Tsaritsa asked, her tone amused.

Anatoly flushed but tried to hide his annoyance. Kollei could see it though. She had gotten very good at telling when men were angry or upset. That was the time to run. Though right now, she thought it would be safer to stay with the Tsaritsa instead of fleeing.

“I simply wish to advise you as best I can, my Lady,” Anatoly said, inclining his head. “I am…thankful that you have awakened. I was quite concerned for your health.”

“And your own, one presumes,” the Tsaritsa said. Anatoly colored slightly again, but she shook her head. “That is unkind of me. I sense the love within your heart, Anatoly. You fear first for your sister, but also for your fellow countryman. For a thief, you have quite the noble heart.”

“I…I confess I have undertaken less than lawful activities, that my sister and I may survive. Russia is not a kind place these days,” Anatoly admitted. He looked around at the men with guns and the remaining cape, who were still cowering. “And what of these others?”

The Tsaritsa tilted her head to one side. “What would you advise?”

“I know some of these men. They are scoundrels, but they are not evil. What they are is hungry, cold, and desperate. There are few jobs that pay well in Saint Petersburg, and fewer still an unskilled man could obtain. Offer them bread and vodka, and they will follow you. Give them purpose and meaning, and they will love you,” Anatoly said, and his voice almost became pleading. 

“Hmm. And you, Kollei?” the Tsaritsa asked, turning to her. 

“M-me?” Kollei squeaked. She looked around at the rough men and felt their predatory gazes upon her. Her instincts told her to run away and find a hole to hide in, or they would do unspeakable things to her. She looked at the Tsaritsa, wondering if this was a joke, but the woman, no, her mother, gazed back at her with love and patience. 

Taking a shuddering breath, Kollei closed her eyes and tried to think. “I…I know what it’s like to be cold and hungry. I…I’ve done some pretty horrible things, to keep myself fed and warm. Stolen. Stabbed people. Sold…whatever I had. Maybe…maybe if they have someone to love them…they can be good people.”

“Your hearts are both so full of love. It warms me to hear it.” The Tsaritsa raised her voice. “To those of you who would have attacked your empress and god, I offer you clemency. Swear yourselves to me, and I will lead you to success and glory. Depart now, and I will not pursue you. But wrong me again, and the ice shall take you.”

To Kollei’s surprise, a shocking number of the men slowly came over, and knelt before the Tsaritsa to pledge themselves to her. The first, however, was Anatoly, who quickly knelt at her feet. 

“I don’t know everything yet. But if you seek to restore Russia to glory, and to save my people from the slow slide into destruction, I will serve you utterly,” Anatoly vowed, taking the Tsaritsa’s hand. “I would see this broken land mended and restored. For people to no longer live in fear and hunger, but to hold their heads high, and proudly say that they are sons and daughters of The Motherland.”

As Anatoly spoke, Kollei felt a sudden change in the air. The Tsaritsa closed her eyes, then began to recite a strange poem. 

Son of Ice, though your heart is chilled and hardened, you still feel Love. 

Though your path is jagged and perilous, your eyes are set upon your Ambition.

Even when the world calls you a fool, your Vision remains set upon your desires. 

Let your tale now unfold, my beloved of the Twinfold Path. 

As she spoke the last line of the poem, a glowing blue gem appeared in the air before her, and drifted down towards Anatoly as Kollei and everyone else gasped in amazement. With a steady hand, Anatoly reached up, and grasped the Vision in his fist. He looked down at it for a moment, then back up at the Tsaritsa, his face now wet with tears. “You…you truly are an Archon.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” the Tsaritsa asked. She turned to the others who were gazing on her with awe and wonder. “Now. Who shall pledge themselves to Russia?”

Every single one of those who had come to slay the Tsaritsa scrambled to fall to their knees and swore themselves to her, and once more, Kollei felt her heart stir with hope. 

A new day dawned for her people.