fullparagon

On The Elements, Chapter 2

From, On the Elements, by Dr. Fatima Tabib

Only  eternity can bring us closer to the Heavenly Principles. I am no longer  the shadow. Mine is the most supreme and noble form.

- Beezlebul, Electro Archon

As  discussed in the first chapter Visions are defined as mortal ambition  manifested into physical form as a connection to one of the fundamental  elements. That connection is forged through a mortals own will and  ambition matching with the mind of an Archon. In the case of Electro,  that means the Raiden Shogun, God of Eternity. To first know Electro  Visions and Vision Holders, we must then first know the mind of the  Raiden Shogun.

Out of all  the Archons, the Raiden Shogun is, thus far, the one most blatant and  explicit that she is a god, and should be treated as such. She is not  like Buer, who takes the form of a child and does not pursue dominion.  Nor is she like Barbatos, who takes the form of a mortal and hides among  the masses. The Raiden Shogun is the God of Eternity, the Narukami  Oshogo, and the Spirit of Japan.

To  know the mind of an Archon itself is extremely difficult. They are not  human, no matter what some might think, nor are they parahumans. Their  fundamental physiology and psychology are different. Thus, to know the  mind of an Archon, we must study the minds of mortal men. An in the case  of Electro Vision Holders, a clear pattern emerges that tells us of the  Raiden Shogun's own mind.

1. Rejection of Sociatal Norms

This  is somewhat hard to notice at first, because the Raiden Shogun herself  sets what the societal norms are for Japan in so many ways, but  fundamentally, Beezlebul rejects mortal society and mortal culture in  exchange for her "Eternity." We see this with Electro Allogens, who  universally in some fashion, reject mortal society. Take, for example,  the famous Sara Tengan. As a cosplayer in the time before the Raiden  Shogun had arrived, she had fundamentally rejected the idea of normal  society. She was cast out by her parents, labeled an "otaku", which was  far from a flattering term in those days, and generally considered an  outsider. The same is true for the Raiden Shogun. She rejects all mortal  conceptions of how the world, and indeed society, are to be ordered,  and instead orders herself and her domain in her own unique way. She  rebelled against the global trade order, and while at times she has  suffered for it along with her nation, the reality is that she and Japan  are too powerful and influental to be cast aside, and global society  itself reoriented around her own vision.

So  too is the Electro Allogen. They refuse in some way to follow normal  society. Perhaps they are like American Secretary of the Treasury  Miniver Cheevy, who rejected his peers demands and fully dedicated  himself to rooting out graft and political corrupt, going so far as to  nearly take down the famed Number Man in his quest. Or they could be  like Capri Cohen, who left her own people and dwelt in a society with an  antipathy towards the Romani people, fully dedicated to her pursuit of  her dream of music. Whether it be teenaged rebellion, a lifelong  obsession, or a fundamentally different way of looking at things,  Electro Allogens walk their own path. Which brings us to the second  part;

2. Life in the Shadows

Again,  it is hard to notice because she is a world leader and public figure,  but the Raiden Shogun does not enjoy the company of most others. She  spends most of her time sequestered in her palace, built in the  mountains away from Tokyo at Tenshukaku on the island of Kyushu. If  rumors are to be believed, and I think they should, indeed, she spends a  good deal of her time in an entirely seperate dimension of her own  creation. While she is seen with some regularity at public events, she  does not mingle overmuch with the general populace. She is an aloof God  Emperor, with her two daughters and Tri-Commission heads doing much of  the public events and work that a ruler would be expected to. The  exception, of course, is in time of war, as the CUI and DPRK learned to  their sorrow.

The same is  also true of Electro Allogens. Kathrine Schmidt, the head of Fantastic  Days and of the Knights of Favonius, does not make many public  appearances, and those she does are highly scripted before she vanishes  back into the shadows. Much like her master Barbados, Capri Cohen loves  the limelight of the stage, but outside of those performances does not  typically socialize with fans, prefering to hide from her fame, despite  the Tone Deaf Bards being the best selling band for nearly a decade now.  Even when leading a public life, Elector Allogens are intensely private  and secretive of themselves. They are, however, not complete hermits,  for there is always one sure thing to draw them out. What it is varies,  but it is universally true.

3. Single-Minded Dedication

All  Vision holders have a great and overwhelming ambition in their lives.  What that ambition is varies greatly and its study is the purpose of  this book, but for Electro Vision Holders it is even more all consuming  and overwhelming: They are given over entirely to a single pursuit, and  will stop at absolutely nothing to see that made into reality, rejecting  everything else, overcoming all obstacles.

Again,  this varies greatly. Danny Hebert, known as Longshoreman and the first  known American Electro Allogen, was simplemindedly obsessed with  revitalizing the Longshoreman Union and restoring maritime trade. His  daughter was so obsessed that her quest led to her receiving her own  chapter in this book, but her single minded focus from an early age  earned her a Vision as well. Secretary of the Treasury Cheevy's  obsession has led to his seeking the highest office in America, and he  may well become the next President, all in pursuit of eliminating graft,  corruption, and tax evasion.

The  real question is, of course, what is the Raiden Shogun's overriding  goal? The answer is simple: Eternity. She seeks to bring about an  Eternal Empire for the nation of Japan, ruled over by herself. A nation  unchanging and unchanged by the storms of the world, itself the storm  that consumes and alters destiny itself.

Now,  with these in mind, let us delve further into each aspect, and how  Electro Visions are manifested and recieved, as well as the forms they  take (...)

This Goddess Must Be Crazy, Chapter 47

The table creaked, and Izuku glanced over at Iris, whose face was a cold mask hiding what had to be an ocean of rage. Rage that Bakugo had written all over a face stretched into a snarl, his ax in his hands.

“Aqua,” Iris said, her tone carefully neutral and calm, even as the table splintered under her fingers. “Explain to me, one more time, why we have not summarily executed this monster.”

Bakugo just let out a low and animalistic growl, clenching his fists with a pop as his sweat exploded.

Across the table, Tanya von Degurachaff, the Godslayer, sat in a straightjacket with Vanir and Aqua on either side of her, looking back at Iris with a bored expression. Victoria Ivanova was flanked by Wiz and Eris, who had a knife she was using to trim her fingernails and a look on her face that clearly indicated she’d prefer to be using it on the prisoners.

The other individuals in the room were All Might and Nezu as the representatives of the Japanese government, along with Kazuma’s party, and Izuku and Mei, who was humming to herself as she examined some of the gear that Tanya and Visha had been captured with.

“Because-” Aqua began, but Izuku interrupted her.

“Iris, we have to think about this. We don’t know enough about our enemies capabilities. We have to study what they’re capable of, so that we can-”

“Murder, Midoriya,” Iris hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits. “Murder of my entire family and kingdom.”

“Little Sis has got a point,” Kazuma said, his own eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Look, I know we supposedly went to school with her or something, but that doesn’t change that she worked with Skeletor.”

“I do not recall ever working with anyone called ‘Skeletor,’” Tanya said, tilting her head to one side slightly. “I assume you mean-”

“The Lord of the Tomb!” Iris exploded, drawing her sword and slamming it down onto the table, the blade pointed right at Tanya. “Do you deny working for him?!”

“No, but-” Tanya began, only for Iris to grab her sword up and leap onto the table. It looked like she would have rammed it right into Tanya’s sternum, if Vanir hadn’t put a finger on the tip, stopping it cold.

“Ah ah ah, O Queen Without a Land. Thou would be wise to listen before you strike down the card fate has put into our hands,” Vanir chided.

“When I want the advice of a demon, I will be sure to kill you,” Iris spat, her muscles straining against Vanir, but unable to move the blade.

“Hey, princess. The nerd thinks it’s a good idea to listen,” Bakugo said, jerking his chin at Izuku. “Maybe we listen first, then kill the two bitches after.”

Iris shot Bakugo a death glare, then sighed and relented, sheathing her sword and jumping down off the table. “Fine.”

“Is this the sort of operational efficiency I can expect?” Tanya asked with a heavy sigh, glancing at Vanir. “It’s no wonder your resistance movement has been so ineffective if this is the sort of discipline you have.”

“O Man Who has now been given a third-”

“Woman,” Tanya corrected, her eyelids twitching. “I left that life behind long ago, and this is who I am now.”

“Woman, then. Thou hast been given a third chance at life. While moi has spared thee from the wrath of the Realmless one, moi expended a life to do so.” Vanir pointed to his mask, which had ticked up to ‘III.’ “Do not tempt lions when thou art but a mouse.”

“Wait, you were a dude?” Kazuma asked, then grunted when Megumin elbowed him hard, and everyone else ignored him.

“Miss Degurechaff…what information can you give us?” Izuku asked, leaning forward.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Tanya said flatly. “I know a great deal. However, there is one piece of information I think I should start with.”

“And that is?” All Might asked, leaning forward on the table.

“Ainz Ooal Gown is terrified of Aqua, and he is indeed the Lord of the Tomb. But he is not the one who set me on this course, nor do I believe that he came up with his plan to seek out and destroy Aqua on his own,” Tanya stated.

“What, is there supposed to be some other even more terrifying opponent out there?” Bakugo demanded. “One we’ll need your help to fight?”

“Frankly, I don’t even know how you’d begin to fight the Man in Red, nor do I know what he even is, but I suspect he is a being of a similar make to the Duke of Hell,” Tanya said, including her chin towards Vanir.

Most everyone looked to Vanir, who frowned, tilting his head to one side. “Man in Red? Moi is not familiar…do the annoying goddesses know?”

“There’s a lot of red demons,” Eris said, frowning slightly. “But if it’s one that she knows…they’d be from Horror. Not Comedy.”

“You mean, one of the big meanies from another division did this?” Aqua gasped. She patted Tanya on the head, which Tanya bore with stoic resolution. “It’s OK, Tanya, we don’t blame you.”

“I would not be so certain,” Iris said, her tone once again icy. “This does not absolve Tanya of her crimes.”

“I do not seek absolution, it is irrelevant. What I seek is the most pragmatic solution to the current situation, for which the ultimate problem must be addressed. The Man in Red is a larger looming threat, so whatever course we chart in this discussion, we must bear in mind the ultimate underlying issue. Unless you merely wish this scenario to repeat when he finds another patsy to send your way,” Tanya said, sounding like she was submitting a report on the number of pencils the accounting department had gone through in the past quarter rather than the revelation that a greater cosmic horror existed.

“That does change things,” Izuku muttered, thumbing his chin as he thought. “If the Lord of the Tomb is just a pawn…”

“I wouldn’t say a pawn. A more valuable piece,” Tanya said with a shrug, made somewhat difficult by the straightjacket. “But still, not the king. This will not be over simply because he is defeated.”

“And we should be talking about how we kick his boney ass, not worrying about this mysterious crimson fucker!” Bakugo snarled, snapping his fingers and letting off a bang. “How do we even do that?”

“I concur with my consort,” Iris said, steepling her fingers. “We need to take out the Lord of the Tomb. We cannot hope to win by playing defense. So, can you tell us how to do that or not?”

“I can inform you of the defenses of Nazarick, though I believe that there are many I was never made aware of for the sake of operational security,” Tanya stated matter of factly.

“The real question is, how do we even get there?” Mei said, looking up from her tinkering. “Izuku can kick anyone’s butt if he knows where they are, but no one even knows where this Tomb is!”

“We have the access spells,” Visha put in. “We can teleport there, along with anyone we want to take.”

“Oh, so we should just trust you to take us there so you can merc us? No thank you,” Kazuma said with a snort.

“That does sound suspiciously like an ambush,” Izuku said uncertainly, shaking his head. “Is there an alternative?”

“We could give you the coordinates and you could teleport there without us,” Tanya said.

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place!” Kazuma demanded.

“-and then you would set off every alarm in the place and trigger the automatic defenses, which would instantly obliterate you.”

Kazuma winced at that one. “Uh, on second thought, maybe not.”

“So we have only three choices then,” All Might said, and held up three fingers, ticking off the points. “One, we remain on a defensive posture and hope we can defeat the Tomb when it invades. Two, we trust Miss Degurechaff, and have her take us there to attack, or three, we attempt to teleport there alone and risk setting off the defenses.”

“Wars are not won through defense. Even if you had superior forces, you would be ground down eventually by a force that can pick their time and place. You do not: the Tomb controls dozens of worlds now, you only one,” Tanya said dismissively.

“She is…correct,” Iris ground out, looking like the words were giving her indigestion. “We have to strike at the Tomb if we have a hope of survival.”

Tanya nodded, as nonplussed as ever. “Then logically, all that remains is whether or not you believe you can trust my information.”

“That’s not something we should decide immediately. What exactly are we up against? We’ve seen what the minions of the Tomb can do, but does anyone know what the Lord of the Tomb and his most elite forces are capable of?” Izuku asked, looking around the table.

“I…am not certain what Ainz is capable of,” Visha said, looking at Tanya. “As far as I know, he has never taken the field himself.”

“He has not,” Tanya agreed. “It is believed he is far stronger than any of his minions, but as to what he is capable of… I cannot say. He is a lich, and is powerful. That is all I know.”

“We knew that already! That’s not helpful at all!” Mei said, wagging a finger at Tanya. “I need new data so I can build my wonderful babies to take him out!”

“What of his other forces?” Iris demanded. “We have gathered data on some of them, Shalltear, Albedo, Cocytus, the elf twins, and that bastard Demiurge. I assume he still lives?”

“You did not slay him, though you did wound,” Victoria confirmed. “Aura and Mare are here already. And Ainz would not send any other Floor Guardians here, save for Coctyus.”

“He’s the big bugman, right?” Kazuma asked, leaning back in his chair. “What’s his face fought him.”

“He fought Naofumi, yes, and was driven off that world, the first victory we’ve had against him in a long time,” Eris agreed. “He’s also the only other minion of Ainz that is unaccounted for that isn’t a demon or undead.”

“What will the Lord of the Tomb do, now that the Godslayer has been captured?” Nezu asked Tanya. “Will he withdraw? Reinforce?”

“He’ll send in Cocytus, along with massive numbers of troops,” Tanya stated. “From my world, as well as others he has captured. Eventually, you will be overrun, even as strong as this world’s defenders are.”

“Then we have to take the fight to him,” Izuku said, shaking his head in discomfort. He looked to Aqua. “Can we trust her?”

“Tanya’s not a bad person, she was just being lied to! She really does want to help us!” Aqua declared. Most everyone else gave her disbelieving looks, but Kazuma and Izuku exchanged looks.

“We’re going to have to trust someone I guess,” Kazuma sighed. “And if it’s going to be anyone…”

“I’ll trust Aqua,” Izuku agreed. Then he leaned forward. “So, what’s going to be the best way to attack? Tell us everything about the Tomb you can.”

Tanya nodded, and launched into her explanation as the others listened. Time was running out, but they couldn’t just run in blind.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

For nearly a century now, All For One had schemed and plotted, and more than once simply brutalized his way into power. During most of that time, his goal had been to rule over Japan, and perhaps one day, extend his influence further, throughout Southeast Asia. At times he had dreamed of conquering the world, but that had never been more than an idle thought, not an actual plan he thought he’d bring to fruition.

It seemed his ambitions had been far, far too small.

He looked about the grand hall he now found himself in, the tattered banners of a hundred worlds hung there. Some of those flags looked vaguely Japanese, or even of other nations he would have recognized from Earth. There were even statues, trophies of foes defeated or enslaved, some human, others obviously not.

At the end of the great hall was a stone throne, upon which sat a classical evil Overlord. All For One was impressed. He’d thought a throne like that would look tacky, and that the aesthetic was rather overdone. You’d have to really commit to pull something like that off, and this being clearly had. Though it did help to be a skeleton with glowing red eyes.

“Not bad,” Shiguraki commented from his side, looking around with an amused expression. “Looks like the guild hall of a high end raiding guild.”

“PVP, actually,” the Skeletal Overlord on his throne commented. “I’m impressed. Not very many people recognize Nazarick for what it is.”

“Oh?” Shiguraki grinned, his chapped lips cracking from the rictus expression, a bit of blood leaking onto his lips. “So, you’re actually hardcore, not just a care bear poser?”

“Watch your tongue, human, Lord Ainz is the most powerful being in existence!” the annoying little child with the incredible power said. This was the female one, dressed in a white suit. All For One was fairly certain he or Shiguraki could slay her if needed, but it would be a terrible battle.

Not that they could win in this place, but one didn’t make great gains without great gambles. And with his old Adversary restored to full strength, All For One could no longer afford to simply bide his time in the dark.

“It is fine, Aura. These two are here to swear fealty, are they not?” Ainz said, leaning back on his throne, appearing utterly relaxed. If he were anything like his minions, however, that should not be underestimated.

“I suppose I’d be willing to join your guild, if it means I get to destroy the heroes and their vaunted justice. Shit, why not just destroy the entire world!” Shiguraki cackled, spreading his arms wide.

“Now, now. What is there left to rule if we simply destroy the world?” All For One said, putting a hand on Shiguraki’s shoulder. He turned his face towards Ainz, giving him a grandfatherly smile. “After all, it seems our world is giving you a bit more trouble than usual.”

“The defeat of the Godslayer is problematic,” Ainz said, steepling his jewel-encrusted fingers together. “She is one of my oldest allies not of Nazarick, and one of my most powerful. She has conquered a hundred worlds, and yet, yours was able to defeat her.”

“Forgiveness, Lord Ainz,” Aura said, kneeling on the dark stone floor. “The magic in this world is like nothing we have ever seen before, and its inhabitants are far stronger than we anticipated. With the vile Goddess Aqua there as well…”

“I think I can offer you a replacement. I met Miss Degurechaff, and while she was impressive, I think I can offer you abilities she lacked,” All For One stated.

“You have claimed this before. Thus far, you have failed to even take the field. Why should I believe this is the case?” Ainz demanded, his gaze turning malevolently upon All For One.

“I am an old man, weak in body, but not in spirit. My Adversary has been restored to his prime by Aqua. So, I ask, why not restore me? What have you to lose?” All For One said, spreading his arms wide.

“Hmmm,” Ainz rubbed his chin, glancing at Aura.

“It’s up to you. I think this human is kind of worthless,” Aura said with a shrug.

All For One grinned. “Really? Perhaps you’d care to back that up in a bout? Not to the death, of course. More so  I can demonstrate my abilities.”

“Oh, Lord Ainz, please, please let me! I’ve been longing to teach these humans some humility!” Aura begged, clasping her hands together and giving the undead monster puppy dog eyes.

“If you’re a PVP guild, I’d like to see what your builds are, and skills. Is this some sort of video game world? Heh, it’s like one of those trashy light novels,” Shiguraki chuckled.

Spitting on the floor, Aura gave up her plea and glared at Shiguraki. “You sound like one of those innumerable ‘heroes’ the gods summoned. I’ve slaughtered hundreds of them!”

“Oh, but you see the difference is, I’M NO HERO!” Shiguraki cackled, his hands reaching out for Aura.

“Tomura,” All For One warned, and Shiguraki backed off, still sneering at Aura.

“A test of ability for you both…yes,” Ainz mused, tapping the golden staff he held on the floor. “Not against you, Aura. I have a better idea. Come.”

Strange energies wrapped around them, and a moment later, All For One found himself in the middle of a great arena, Shiguraki at his side. Nearly 100 meters away, Ainz stood atop a balcony that leaned out over the sands of the arena floor, Aura perched on the railing and grinning at them.

“If you can pass this test, then I will reward you by restoring your body,” Ainz said. “And, for the young one, perhaps a race change.”

“Seriously? I can be a badass race? I always wanted to be a demon vampire!” Shiguraki snickered, looking around. “Only normies play as vanilla humans when there’s better options.”

“Oh, let me summon one of my pets to deal with them, Lord Ainz!” Aura begged.

“No. We’ll start with something simple. Release the prisoners,” Ainz ordered.

There was another flash, and a ragged bunch of haggard men and women in drab robes, but wielding dangerous looking weapons appeared.

“If you defeat these two,” Ainz began, “I will-”

“JUST A BUNCH OF FOOLS!” Shiguraki cackled, and dashed forward. The impertinence of youth. With but a touch, he reduced those around him to dust, then turned to face Ainz. “You’ll have to do better than that! What’s with these pathetic low level mobs?!”

“Impressive. Those were humans, and fairly high level ones from various world’s we’ve conquered,” Ainz mused. “You did not hesitate to slay them.”

“They’re NPCs. Even worse than heroes. People who exist only to be destroyed!” Shiguraki ranted.

“Indeed. Well, perhaps something a little more challenging then,” Ainz said, and tapped his staff again. This time, a dozen heavily armored skeletal figures appeared, all bearing metal blades and shields. They turned towards All For One and Shiguraki, but this was pointless.

With a gesture, All For One pummeled them into the ground with but a finger each, crushing them to dust. “I said a bout. Whatever this is, you are tossing nothing but minions at us. Foes that even mediocre heroes from our world could defeat. Do not waste my time.”

“Very well,” Ainz said with a nod. “Then let us see what you are truly capable of. This time, do not slay the summoned humans. They are but an offering.”

All For One found himself teleported out of the arena to the seats below Ainz. A moment later, thousands of people filled the pit, all of them crying out and screaming piteously, clothed only in filth and rags. The sound was deafening, but a bright flash enveloped Ainz, and he lifted his hands, chanting something.

“Nice, that’s gotta be high level magic. Wonder what he’s gonna do?” Shiguraki mused, leaning back in the bleacher with a lazy expression on his face.

“He called them an offering,” All For One mused. “I wonder…”

After several seconds, a black wave ripped out from Ainz, and the people in the area collapsed, dead. “Witness now…my GREAT POWER!” Ainz declared, and Aura clapped excitedly, cheering.

All For One was not impressed: He could have easily replicated the effect, especially against what looked like hapless slaves. Several thousand people had to have died at a blow, but a high end Quirk could do much the same.

Then the black void appeared above the arena, darkness oozing out of it and consuming the fallen. The bodies were absorbed, dissolved into darkness. Black tentacles sprang up out of the ground easily 30 meters tall, writhing obscenely. From the tentacles, great black shapes with dozens of maws pulled themselves. For a moment, All For One was actually impressed.

Then one of them let out an extremely incongruous bleating sound, and Shiguraki laughed. “A summon spell? Takes a hefty sacrifice though. Not bad. I guess you really are an Evil Overlord.”

“Your task is to slay them. If you survive, I will grant your request,” Ainz promised.

“Well, maybe this won’t be totally boring,” Shiguraki chuckled, standing and padding up to the edge. “What do you think, Old Man? This one might be worth our time.”

“Interesting,” All For One mused. “Let’s see.”

He set out a single punch first, one strong enough to level a building, striking at the left monster. It let out a bleat and rocked back, but to All For One’s surprise, it didn’t immediately turn to dust. Instead, its tentacles flailed at him, actually searing even his reinforced flesh.

“How surprising. You’re more durable than you look,” All For One mused, and brought his second fist forward. This time there was more than bleating as he hit the beast, but it still did not die. To his shock, he was actually grabbed by the thing, his body whipped about as it tossed him across the bleachers, sending him through the stone and pulverizing it.

After that, he quit playing around. Whatever this was, it was more durable than it looked. That blow would have been enough to wound his Adversary at their prime, even the damnable All Might. This would not do.

“I liked this suit,” All For One said, standing up as the thing let go of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shiguraki contending against the beast as well. Whatever it sent against him he dissolved, but he was still getting knocked about by the force of it.

Still, the boy would have to sink or swim on his own now. He was powerful and skilled, but this was an opponent worthy of the name. He hammered at it with a series of blows, but the thing charged him, hooves making an altogether inappropriate “clop clop” sound like that of coconuts banging together. What nonsense was this?

Still, when it slammed into him, All For One actually felt it. True, he was able to negate all the kinetic force with his quirks easily, but he had to use his regenerative quirks even with all the reinforcement and toughening quirks he had stored. Some sort of exotic energy battered him, and he grunted in pain. Still, this was nothing compared to a hit from his Adversary.

“Crude,” All For One sneered, ramming the thing with both arms. “An artless attack that deserves a response in kind.”

This time, he did knock the creature back, and it was wounded. He glanced over at Shiguraki, and sighed. The boy was overwhelmed, and he was seemingly unable to harm these things. “Tomura! We must work together or we shall be at this all day.”

He slammed a fist into the creature battling his protege, rocking it back, then scooped up Tomura, whipping him up atop the creature.

“DIE YOU FILTH!” Shiguraki raged. “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A WORTHLESS DUNGEON BOSS!”

He slapped both hands down on the creature, and it began to rapidly dissolve, bleating in pain. Its tentacles tried to grab Shiguraki, but All For One launched himself upwards, fending off the tentacles of the creature. The second beast tried to attack as well, but its companion was flailing about wildly in pain, knocking it back. What attacks did get through, All For One battered aside with contempt.

After more than a full minute, the first creature was reduced to naught but dripping shadows. It was a simple matter to repeat the process, slaying both creatures with minimum effort. Once they were done, the clattering of bones could be heard.

“Well done. A magnificent display,” Ainz declared, his finger bones clattering together. Seeing her master’s praise, Aura begrudgingly golf clapped, a sour expression on her face.

“Your desires shall be granted,” Ainz declared. “I have special rewards for you both.”

“An amusing diversion,” All For One said, sighing and stretching. He was getting old. “But if this is all the force you can bring to bear, perhaps we overestimated you as an ally.”

“This is but the least of Nazarik’s power! Watch your words, human, or Lord Ainz will stop your heart!” Aura snarled, clenching her fists as she glared down at them.

That made All For One chuckle. “Little girl, I left my humanity behind decades ago. And stop my heart? What kind of a fool do you think I am? If simply destroying one of my organs could kill me, I would have fallen in my first battle against my Adversary.”

“Enough, Aura, they have proven themselves.” Ainz waved a hand, and two objects appeared in the arena before Shiguraki and All For One. The first was a cube with glowing blue lines on it, the other a book that appeared to be bound in human skin, with a yawning face on it, and runes that glowed with a sickly green light.

“The Book of the Dead will give you vigor, while the Fallen Seed will turn the one who consumes it into a demon,” Ainz declared. “They are of no use to me personally, but they are rare and expensive items. I grant you them from my treasury.”

“Finally. Let’s see what this can do,” Shiguraki said, and reached out a hand, grasping the cube. All For One watched with clinical detachment. He was willing to sacrifice Shiguraki to gain knowledge, but if this failed, he would slay Ainz and that annoying child and claim their powers for himself.

“To open the Fallen Seed, one must have greatly negative karma,” Ainz commented. “I wonder, can you-”

The box instantly cracked open for Shiguraki, who was careful not to touch it with his fingertips. A black mist flowed out, enveloping him as he laughed maniacally. Such a boorish display, but he was young. A few moments later, the mist withdrew, revealing a transformed Tomura. Black wings sprouted from his back, and he had sprouted fangs and long claw-like nails.

“YES!” Shiguraki cackled. “THIS IS THE DESTRUCTION I HAVE LONGED FOR! I WILL PURGE ALL THE TRASH AND THEIR SO CALLED JUSTICE FROM THIS AND ALL WORLDS!”

“Huh. Guess he was a good fit,” Aura said, tilting her head to one side. “Well, I guess he’s tolerable now.”

“Tomura. Look at me,” All For One commanded, and Shiguraki turned towards him, teeth bared, his fangs clearly visible. All For One lifted up his chin, examining him. He probed the boy’s mind with the various psychic quirks he possessed and was surprised at what he found. Shiguraki was fundamentally altered. Something had been taken away, replaced with an all consuming void. He certainly was no longer human, but in exchange…power. A great deal of power flowed through him now.

“You have to try it, Old Man. It’s a whole new world,” Shiguraki hissed, licking his lips. “This time, we’ll crush them all.”

“Indeed,” All For One said, and reached out his hand, touching the book. The empty eye sockets glowed, and the book sprang open.

Within his soul, he felt a mournful howl and an abiding cold. He tried to jerk his hand back, but green light raced up his arm, deadening it, stripping away all feeling of sensation. He felt the pure vileness, the evil, and for just one moment, he knew regret.

Then, All For One, without ceremony, died.

But in Nazarick, death was a kindly fate. What happened next was far worse.

Author’s note

A teenage boy is getting ready to take his girlfriend to the prom. First he goes to rent a tux, but there’s a long tux line at the shop and it takes forever.Next, he has to get some flowers, so he heads over to the florist and there’s a huge flower line there. He waits forever but eventually gets the flowers.Then he heads out to rent a limo. Unfortunately, there’s a large limo line at the rental office, but he’s patient and gets the job done.Finally, the day of the prom comes. The two are dancing happily and his girlfriend is having a great time. When the song is over, she asks him to get her some punch, so he heads over to the punch table and there’s no punchline.

The Second Archon War: Sapientia Oromasdis 4

Sapientia Oromasdis 4: Back to Basics

Brought to you by my patreon Korean Writer

Beta’d and edited by Dr_Feelgood, The Grand Cogitator, October Daye, and Philosophysics

The sunlight greeted Nahida once more, and she smiled as her eyes opened. She sat up in bed, stretching and enjoying the light on her skin. She did, of course, conduct a sort of photosynthesis, but mostly she just liked having a window, something she’d not really had in the Sanctuary. After taking a few moments, she gently shook Qiqi awake. “Good morning, Qiqi.”

“Good morning,” the little girl responded sleepily. Nahida was a little surprised; that was the first time in the seven days she’d known Qiqi that she’d gotten an actual response first thing in the morning. Perhaps their nightly dreams together were helping. Nahida had taken Qiqi through all sorts of dreamscapes, from nighttime visits to Sumeru City to leaping between bouncy stars in the sky, to of course, tea time in the meadow of flowers.

Despite the positive start, Qiqi still needed help remembering how to put on her clothes, though she did help just a little bit more than normal. Nahida could sense that the hold the Demon had on Qiqi’s soul was lessening slightly. Why was that? Perhaps the dreams were helping? Was the demon retreating because of Nahida? It was worth further study, though really if Nahida really wanted to know she’d need at least a dozen parahumans, an equal number of regular people as a control group, and a team of Vahumana researchers.

Human experimentation, even the gentle sort, always made her feel queasy, so she tucked that away in the recess of her mind. Shortly after that, she brought Qiqi over to the prayer room, where Dr. Bashir was already laying out the mats.

“Good morning girls,” He said, smiling at them.

“Daddy,” Qiqi said, a faint smile on her lips. “Good.”

“Good morning,” Nahida echoed. She didn’t call Bashir father, and he didn’t ask her to. It felt too odd to call someone who was her junior, father, even if, well…he was starting to feel like that. Nahida had always known she really could trust some grown-ups, she’d just never met one she actually felt she could before Bashir. Even her kindest caretakers had been reporting on her to the sages, which had felt like a betrayal.

After prayers was breakfast, which Nahida helped cook, Bashir coaching her. She didn’t need nearly as much guidance as he gave but it felt…comforting. It was clear an adult probably shouldn’t trust a child they thought was five years old around boiling water or a hot oven unsupervised, but Bashir was gentle.

Qiqi, for her part, sat at the table, glassy-eyed as she sucked on a small sippy cup full of coconut milk, a new obsession of hers. Farasha had brought it, though she hadn’t been around much in the last few days. From what Nahida had gleaned from Bashir’s thoughts, it was best not to dwell too much on what Farasha did when she disappeared. It usually involved something rather nasty.

“I have rounds at the hospital today,” Bashir informed Nahida. “I’ll be taking you both with me. Normally Mrs. Rasab would watch you, but I’d like to do a more thorough examination of you, Nahida, and a check-up on Qiqi while we’re at it.”

“Are you looking for this Corona Pollentia?” Nahida inquired. “I’ve heard you mention it.”

“Yes, among other things. Most parahumans have altered biology compared to your average person. Some vision holders show signs as well, though it seems much more limited, such as changes in eye or hair color.”

“Elemental Attunement,” Nahida agreed, thinking back to various papers she’d read. “As the Mind reflects the Vision, so the Body must reflect the Mind.”

“That’s…a fascinating way of putting it,” Bashir mused. “But yes, my theory does run something along those lines.”

“Really? What is it?!” Nahida asked eagerly. A real scholar doing research, and she could be an actual part of it? She’d left hints and notes to students before in the Akasha, or spoken to them in, well, not their dreams, but while they slept. But that had been largely one way, and Greater Lord Rukkhadevata had gotten all the credit anyway. Not that Nahida minded that overly much, it just… would have just been nice for someone to believe she wasn’t a worthless Archon for once.

“I’m sure it would just bore you, it’s rather technical,” Bashir said, giving Nahida a rather paternal smile.

“No, no! I am very interested to hear what you think. It’s connected to me, after all,” Nahida pulled out the false Vision she kept on the silver chain Farasha had given her from around her neck, displaying it to emphasize her point.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to discuss it with you,” Bashir agreed, his eyes sparkling with the true delight of a man talking about his passion. “You see, my theory is that Visions and Parahumans are entirely different, and work on completely different principles. What those are, I am unaware, but ignoring the obvious difference that Vision Holders need their totem, it’s the psychology.”

“Their minds operate differently?” Nahida asked, frowning and putting her finger to her lips as she concentrated. Yes, that would make sense: Visions were mortal ambition given physical form, while these Parahumans seemed to be the result of a Demon latching on to a mortal's soul.

“Yes, Parahumans have several obvious psychological characteristics,” Bashir said, nodding to Qiqi. “First, is the fact that universally, they Trigger when exposed to extreme trauma.”

“Trigger? I’ve not heard that phrase before, can you describe it?” Nahida inquired, excited at the new knowledge.

“Hmm,” Bashir tapped a finger on the table, frowning at Qiqi, who was gnawing on a bit of bread, crumbs and bits of fruit covering the bib she wore at meals. “Well, even if you do understand, it would be good for you to know, Qiqi.”

“No bread?” Qiqi asked, blinking at Bashir and lowering her food.

“Yes, bread. Qiqi is a good girl,” Bashir assured her, and Qiqi went right back to eating. “Well, as you can see, Qiqi has a severe developmental delay, brought on by a combination of a lack of nurturing when she was very young, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I…do know the details of her circumstances, but I am afraid I won’t share them now.”

The impressions that flashed through Bashir’s mind, an examination of various injuries, an emaciated little girl with sunken eyes, autopsies of frozen corpses…Nahida shuddered and sniffled, fighting back tears.

“If this is too much-”

“No,” Nahida said quietly. “I…I have seen what she fears. In her dreams.”

Bashir blinked at that, then got out a notepad from his shirt pocket. “Dreams?”

“Yes. Dendro is…well, it’s the element of life, and the most spiritual of the Seven Elements,” Nahida said, trying to search her mind for what would be safe to share. “And it-”

“Seven? There are seven?” Bashir asked, clearly astonished. “What makes you say that? You’re the only Dendro Vision Holder I know of in person, though I have gotten reports from my colleagues in other nations who have encountered them as well in the past few days. But the only other Visions I know of are Electro and Anemo.”

“That’s odd, how could the world be balanced with only three elements?” Nahida muttered, tugging her lip in thought. She looked up. “How many Archons do you know of?”

“Well, many, if you refer to the Angels of Allah,” Bashir asked, clearly confused by the sudden turn of the conversation.

“No no, like…like the Raiden Shogun,” Nahida clarified, using the same name as had been in Lightning Princess Ami for the girl’s mother. It was clearly a fanciful tale, as Nahida had never heard of Beezlebul ever adopting a mortal, or even associating with another god after she slew Orobashi.

“Oh! Well, she has called herself the Electro Archon, yes. But the only other being granted that title is Barbados by the infidels in Germany,” Bashir answered, still obviously mystified.

“Barbatos,” Nahida corrected absently. “Unless it’s a different…how does the Anemo Archon appear? What titles does he claim?”

“As a drunk lout, unless the tales are greatly distorted. Here, let me see…” Bashir rose and hurried over to his office, where his computer was. Nahida hurriedly followed, jumping up on the chair to get a good view as Bashir turned the machine on. After a few moments of waiting, he manipulated it until a video played, of people singing during a battle, the Anemo Archon doing battle with a Demon in the sky.

“He’s called the Angel of Freedom, though some blasphemers name him a god,” Bashir said as the video played. “Among other things, though he’s not been seen since he performed at Eurovision.”

“Angel,” Nahida said, mulling over the word. “A messenger from the Heavens, lacking free will.”

She’d found Bashir’s copy of the Quran and read it cover to cover, something that had both delighted and pained him, but he’d encouraged her to ask questions about it. He’d answered the ones she had, though she was still mulling over most of them internally.

“Yes, that would contradict him being called the Angel of Freedom, wouldn’t it?” Bashir asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Djinn would be a more appropriate name, though he is not lying if he says he is a god,” Nahida said. Bashir gave her a horrified look, and she hastily clarified, “Not Allah, the Creator Deity, but a lesser being with divine power.”

“Dangerous words. Many would call you a heretic for that,” Bashir sighed. “Be careful where and to whom you say that. But…hmm. Djinn. I had dismissed those as mostly superstition myself, but…”

“I assure you, the djinn are very real,” Nahida said, thinking of the Aranara she’d found in the garden. It had been delightful to play with it, even Qiqi smiling at being called “Cold Nara” though the Aranara had refused to let her touch it. The Demon seemed to frighten it, which Nahida didn’t blame the little forest spirit for.

“Why, have you met one?” Bashir asked, his tone slightly teasing.

Nahida decided she’d said too much, and blushed, shrugging. “Well, perhaps only in a child’s mind.” That was true enough, as few adults could see the Aranara. Not even most Dendro Allogenes could manage it. Some of their dreams were lost when they grew up, a process that terrified and intrigued Nahida, though she did wonder if she ever would experience the loss herself.

“Hmm, the eyes of a child are a wonderful thing,” Bashir mused, switching off the computer and heading back to check on Qiqi. She had made an even bigger mess, which Bashir tidied up. Nahida had thought the conversation was over as they prepared to leave, until he turned to her and asked, “So, what do you think the other elements are?”

“What do you consider the natural elements to be?” Nahida asked in response, wary of saying too much and alienating this kind man.

“Oh, there’s,

There's antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium

And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium

At first the song confused Nahida, but then she laughed and clapped her hands as Bashir finished it. It was in English, but she understood it easily enough, even if it wasn’t Bashir’s soul’s native tongue. When he finished, he bowed.

“Those are the elements I’m more familiar with now, though there are the classical ones to consider. Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water,” Bashir said with a smile.

“Geo, Anemo,  Pyro, and Hydro,” Nahida agreed. “I would consider those the fundamental elements.”

“One more,” Bashir mused, looking thoughtful. He suddenly blanched and gave Nahida a pained look. “If Dendro is the element of life…is Morte the Element of Death?”

“The Abyss,” Nahida said with a shudder at the very thought. “No. That is not one of the true Elements.”

“Oh? Then what is it?” Bashir asked, curious. “You did say there were seven. Hmm, I wouldn’t have thought of Electro as a classical element…Metal?”

“Metal?” Nahida asked, blinking in confusion. There were so many different kinds of metals, but all of them were governed by Geo, saved for crystallized elements.

“No? Hmm, perhaps Force, known as Kenesis?” Bashir guessed, which prompted a giggle from Nahida. “Not that either, I see. Well, what is it?”

Nahida considered telling as they stepped out the door and over to Bashir’s car but decided it would be more fun not to. Instead, she laughed and skipped again.

“That’s not fair!” Bashir chuckled, leading Qiqi along by the hand. He made half a dozen more guesses as he got her strapped in, Spirit, Wood, Darkness, Light, Body, and so on, each making Nahida laugh more and more.

“You are a very silly little girl,” Bashir told her, checking to make sure she’d done up her car seat properly. He tickled her and smiled as he said it, which made Nahida laugh again, and then went up to the front to drive.

“What do you think the elements are, Qiqi?” Nahida asked as Bashir started the car.

Qiqi actually looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Cocogoat.”

“That’s it!” Bashir cried as he pulled out into the street. “It’s coconuts! How could I not have seen this!?”

“Coconuts would be Dendro!” Nahida protested.

“Hmm, I think I have a couple of nuts in this van,” Bashir laughed, which made Nahida giggle too.

They were all the way at the hospital, Bashir helping Qiqi get out of her car seat, when Nahida said, “Cryo.”

“Hmmm?” Bashir looked up as he lifted Qiqi out of her car seat.

“The seventh Element. Cryo: the element of Ice and Cold, they of the twin paths and resolute spirit,” Nahida explained, quoting from an ancient text she’d read long ago.

“Ice? That doesn’t make any sense. Ice is merely frozen water. You already said hydro was one,” Bashir said, rolling his eyes. “You are very silly.”

“But I’m not! It is Cryo!” Nahida protested.

“Well, are you secretly hiding a Cryo Vision, Qiqi?” Bashir asked, helping both girls down out of the van. Nahida could have floated or jumped by herself, but it did feel nice to have a grown-up help her down.

“Cold?” Qiqi asked, looking frightened.

“No, she’s a parahuman,” Nahida said with a shake of her head. “I don’t fully understand what that means, but any Vision Holder with a little training could tell you Qiqi can’t manipulate Elemental Energy.”

“Elemental Energy…I’ve read papers on that, but…it’s so hard to quantify,” Bashir murmured. He looked to Nahida with keen interest. “Can you manipulate it?”

“Yes, but, um, maybe only in private?” Nahida said, looking around furtively. There were other people walking about in the parking lot, most of them other medical staff by their looks but still…

“Ah, wise of you,” Bashir agreed, patting Nahida on her head. “I have a very smart little radish, it seems.”

Grinning, Nahida skipped along at Bashir’s side. So what if she was 505 years old? It was nice to have silly nicknames and get head pats from a man who was nearly her father.

Inside, Bashir was greeted by name by the other staff members, with many of them saying hello to Qiqi and introducing themselves to Nahida as well. Many female nurses also batted their eyes at Bashir, but as usual, he ignored them, strictly speaking to them as professionals. Nahida noted that a majority of the male doctors spoke down to the nurses, but Bashir was one of the handful that didn’t, and she respected him all the more for it.

“You’ve got the docket of your regulars, and a few new ones today, Doctor,” an older female nurse with smile lines around her eyes and kindly wrinkles on her cheeks said, handing Bashir a clipboard.

He paged through it, nodding to himself. “I’ll see them. I’ve got a list of exams I want you to give Nahida and Qiqi. Keep them together; Nahida is new, and Qiqi does much better when she’s around.”

“Of course, Doctor,” the nurse agreed, then leaned over, putting her hands on her knees to smile at Nahida and Qiqi. “I’m Nurse Hana, it’s nice to meet you, Nahida. Doctor Bashir has some patients to see while we do so. If you’re good, I have a lollipop for you.”

“Cocogoat lollipop?” Qiqi asked, perking up at the thought.

“I’ve never had a lollipop,” Nahida admitted.

“Oh, bless your heart,” Hana said, giving Nahida a pained smile, and then she stood, glowering at nothing. “It doesn’t have to be health food all the time,” she said to apparently the air, though Nahida guessed she was addressing Bashir. “It does a little girl good to have some sweets from time to time.”

“Cocogoat!” Qiqi agreed enthusiastically.

“Um, he let us have cake for breakfast on my birthday,” Nahida admitted.

Bashir groaned, hiding his face behind his clipboard as Hana rounded on him, nostrils flaring. She harrumphed and turned back to the empty air again. “Well. Some people are too tender-hearted. A little sugar is fine, but cake for breakfast?! Someone might stunt your growth! It was that young hellion Farasha, wasn’t it?!”

“It was her birthday, Hana. She’d never had cake before. And Qiqi actually asked for it,” Bashir said, his tone pleading as he lowered the clipboard.

Hana went from scowling to beaming at Bashir. “Well. I always said you were a fine young man. You know, my husband was saying we should have you over for dinner. Have you ever had Jasmine’s Falafel? It’s quite delicious.”

“I’m sure Mushtaq will invite me over whenever you tell him to, but I’m afraid I have to decline,” Bashir said with a chuckle. He smiled at Nahida and Qiqi and said, “I know you’ll both behave for Nurse Hana now. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Daddy bye-bye?” Qiqi asked, and Hana let out a soft gasp, putting a hand to her mouth as her eyes misted over.

“Only for a little while, Qiqi. Daddy will be back soon,” Bashir assured her, then strode off to tend to his duties.

“Daddy…” Qiqi said mournfully, sniffing as tears, then frost rimed her eyes.

“He’ll be back soon,” Nahida said gently, taking Qiqi’s hand and surreptitiously prying away the demon’s hold on her.

Qiqi relaxed, and Nahida squeezed her hand. The demon had definitely been playing with Qiqi’s mind somehow. What Bashir had said earlier came back to Nahida, and she frowned in thought.

It’s the psychology.

“Don’t worry dears, your daddy will be back soon,” Hana said, drying her eyes with the hem of her hijab. Then she was all business then, escorting Nahida and Qiqi to some fascinating machines. The underlying principles were awe inspiring: they used various forms of light to see inside of the body! One was called an X-ray, a machine Bashir had at the office, the other was a Magnetic Resolution Imager! Then there was the device called an Ultra Sound that used sound itself to see, like a bat! Nahida filed all that away, studying the machines so she could replicate the designs in her dreams later.

There were, of course, blood tests, but the hard part came when Nahida was told to go in a special potty to collect a urine sample.

“Um, I-I don’t think I can,” Nahida stammered to Hana.

“We can wait a little while. Here, drink some water,” Hana urged her. “Or you can have a juice or milk if you’d prefer.”

“I-it’s not that, I just-”

“If you’re shy, don’t worry. I have two daughters and two sons, and six grandchildren. I’ve helped more little girls in the bathroom over the years than you can count,” Hana joked.

For want of something better to do, Nahida had once counted all the prime numbers up to a billion, so she rather doubted that, even if it was just an expression.

Eventually, she was put in the potty by herself at her insistence, though Hana had been ready to sit there with her. Out of options, Nahida ended up having to synthesize urine and squirting it out of her finger. She hoped she got it right, because she hadn’t exactly closely studied the substance before. It was, however, rather hilarious that she could make a peepee gun with her hand.

“The first tree to ever go pee,” Nahida giggled, gazing at the small pool in the toilet. “I wonder what the sages would think of that?”

After that, she washed her hands very carefully. What she’d made was entirely sterile of course; the only microbes that grew in Nahida’s gut did so with her express consent, but still, that stuff was very icky.

After that, Hana took the girls to the hospital garden, where they were given lollipops, which Nahida turned out to absolutely adore. They were hardened sugar with a little flavoring, and Qiqi even got a coconut one. Nahida picked a “blue raspberry” flavor, which was especially funny because raspberries were neither berries nor blue.

As they sat on a bench by a tinkling fountain, Nahida closed her eyes, feeling all the plants around her. Some of them seemed to be native to these lands, but most of them had been imported from far off lands. They had been cared for tenderly by human hands, and most of them seemed to be growing, save for one: a bush close to the fountain, a scraggly little thing that despite the best efforts of the gardeners, hadn’t managed to thrive.

Hopping off the bench with her lollipop in her mouth, Nahida went over to crouch by the bush, examining it.

“Don’t touch that one, Nahida,” Hana told her. “It’s oleander; it’s poisonous.”

“I won’t eat it,” Nahida promised, touching the wilted leaves. It wasn’t the heat; the oleander seemed to do just fine with that, but rather the clay content of the soil. The gardeners had treated the plant with fertilizer, but the patch of oleander wasn’t sandy enough for it, and had stunted its growth. Gently, Nahida reached down into the earth and altered the soil composition, just a little. She also gave the bush an infusion of dendro, and instantly it looked much better.

“Nahida? What did you do?” Hana asked, hurrying over to hover over her nervously.

“Not much, I just helped it a little, that’s all,” Nahida said, smiling up at Hana.

“Well, be careful, child. We wouldn’t want anyone to see you doing…whatever that was,” Hana urged, looking worried while she said it.

“There seems to be a great deal of superstition regarding Vision Holders and Parahumans,” Nahida said with a sigh. She looked up at Hana, sensing her nervousness and concern. “What do you think about Qiqi and me?”

“I think you’re both just little girls, and you shouldn’t be blamed for what you can’t control,” Hana said, confirming what Nahida had suspected. While Hana was a kind person who seemed to want to help Qiqi and Nahida, she thought they were cursed somehow. An accurate assessment in the case of Qiqi, and, well, perhaps in Nahida’s case as well. Visions, however, were not curses, but blessings.

Still, Nahida didn’t want to argue with Hana, so she took Qiqi and they sat by the fountain as they finished their candy. After a while, a younger nurse came to Hana, urgently requesting her help with some belligerent patient.

“Her husband won’t let the doctor help her, and you’re always the best with these cases,” the younger nurse whispered.

“Yes, yes,” Hana sighed, looking weary. She turned to Nahida and Qiqi. “Stay in the garden, girls, Umiya will watch you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Qiqi didn’t even appear to notice the directive, simply staring at the fountain with her usual vacant gaze, but Nahida nodded and assured Hana they wouldn’t leave. The younger nurse sat down on the bench, groaning and taking off her shoes to rub at her feet. Nahida sent a few tendrils of dendro, so faint they wouldn’t be visible, and Umiya sighed in relief as the pain was soothed away.

Not long after, a boy in a wheelchair with his mother wheeled into the garden. He looked to be about nine, and his cheeks were pale and clammy, a cap on his head to hide his lack of hair. His mother looked haggard and worn and pushed him over to a bench by the fountain to sit.

“It will be alright, Rasab,” the mother said tiredly. “The doctors say you’re doing very well.”

“I don’t want to come to chemo anymore,” the boy whimpered, slumped in his wheelchair. “It hurts.”

“I know,” his mother said, her voice raw with pain as she took her son’s hand and squeezed gently. “I know.”

Nahida inched closer to the boy, feeling trapped. She didn’t know what disease was afflicting him, and simply shooting dendro into someone wasn’t wise. True, she could heal almost any wound, but diseases were far trickier. If they were caused by a bacteria or fungus, then the Dendro infusion was just as likely to help them as a person’s body, inflaming the infection. She did hate to see someone in pain though, especially a young child.

After a few moments, the boy’s mother noticed Nahida, and gave her a smile. “Hello, what’s your name? I’m Sana, this is Rasab.”

“I’m Nahida,” she said, motioning to herself. “This is Qiqi.”

“Hello, Qiqi,” Qiqi said, not turning to look from the fountain.

Sana looked concerned, but Nahida gave her a shy smile. “Um, Qiqi’s illness makes her forget things.”

“I see,” Sana said, looking pained. She turned to Rasab. “Say hello.”

“Hello,” Rasab said, giving Nahida a tired smile. “Do you have leukemia too?”

“I don’t think so,” said, not certain what that was. She felt impressions of painful procedures, hair falling out, and lots of cleaning. It seemed similar to various diseases she’d heard of before, though she wasn’t entirely certain which.

“Don’t get it, it sucks,” Rasab said with more than a hint of bitterness.

“Yes,” Nahida agreed. She reached out a hand to Rasab, and after a moment, he took it, smiling shyly.

“Rasab, germs,” his mother said tiredly, and gave Nahida a pained smile. “He has to be very careful. He really should be wearing his mask, but…”

“I hate the mask,” Rasab whined, but he dropped Nahida’s hand, his mother squirting a mixture of alcohol onto it and rubbing vigorously.

It had been enough though. Nahida now understood this to be cancer of the blood. It was a good thing she hadn’t just infused Rasab with Dendro: that would have caused the cancer to grow explosively. The treatment he was getting was horribly ravaging to his body, a cocktail of poisons that were targeted to hopefully weaken and kill the cancer faster than they killed Rasab. What to do though…

There was a tinkling sound, and Rasab suddenly gasped, his eyes lighting up as he sat up in his chair. “Mom! A djinn!”

From behind the oleander Nahida had helped, a pair of beady black eyes peered out, an oleander flower growing on the mushroom-like head of the aranara.

“Allah preserve us,” Sana gasped, clutching at a charm. From what Nahida could tell, it was infused with a very weak magic, or perhaps, a kind of magic she didn’t fully understand. Mostly it seemed to be filled with dreams and wishes to protect against evil. Such charms could be effective against minor spirits, but an aranara was by its very nature a being of pure goodness, and thus wouldn’t be repelled.

“It’s OK, I like to play with them too! This kind of djinn is called aranara,” Nahida said, bending over. “It’s ok, you can come play!”

“Big nara is watching,” the aranara said in its tinkling voice. Unlike the ones back home, these aranara spoke in Arabic, which Nahida guessed was because they grew from the soul of this land, where Arabic was the native tongue.

“She can’t see you,” Nahida said sadly. “She’s lost her dreams.”

“Mom? You can’t see the djinn? The aranara?” Rasab asked, craning his neck.

“No,” Sana said slowly, peering into the bushes. “Is it a mouse?”

There was a buzzing, and the aranara lifted off into the air as its flower’s petals opened and spun. It hovered a few centimeters off the ground, buzzing past Qiqi, who looked up, smiling at the aranana even as it shied away from her.

“Cold nara…”

“She won’t hurt you, she’s a good nara too,” Nahida promised as the little aranara buzzed up to fly in front of Rasab.

“It’s so wonderful,” Rasab said, stretching out one hand that trembled with the effort.

“Oh! Little nara is sick,” the aranara said. It landed on Rasab’s lap, causing the little boy to laugh in delight, a little color coming back to his face.

“Can you watch over him?” Nahida asked the aranara. “I think if I talk to Doctor Bashir we could come up with a treatment plan.”

“Help little nara feel better?” the aranara asked, reaching up stubby little arms to touch Rasab’s face.

“You…you could help me get better?” Rasab asked.

The aranara nodded vigorously. “Yes! This one is Araqi. Araqi will teach little nara a song.”

Then, the aranara flew up to land on Rasab’s head, and began to trill in the aranara’s language. It sang of sunshine and flowers, of cool rain, and hot sunny days to grow on. Rasab clapped and laughed, and soon he and Nahida sang along, making up their own words to go with the song.

At first, Sana was concerned about this, but finally decided that this was just children playing pretend, simply grateful that her son was laughing and singing instead of crying in pain. After ten minutes or so, she stood. “It’s time to go home, Rasab. Come. Say goodbye to your new friend.”

“Araqi will watch out for sick nara,” the little spirit promised Nahida.

“It’s OK mom, the djinn will come home with us.” He turned to Araqi, frowning. “We don’t have a garden though, just some potted plants.”

“Araqi will help little nara plant a garden. Silly little nara: if little nara wants to be healthy, little nara needs a garden!”

With a buzz, it fluttered into the air to follow along as Sana stood to push Rasab from the garden.

“Goodbye, Nahida. Thank you for helping my Rasab smile again,” she said, giving Nahida’s hand a grateful squeeze.

“You’re welcome. I hope you both dream of healing,” Nahida said with a smile.

Not long after, Hana returned, and they went to Bashir’s office, where there were some books and toys for Qiqi. Nahida eschewed the children’s novels and the television to Hana’s shock, instead picking up Bashir’s medical textbooks and reading up on treatments for leukemia. It was after dark by the time Bashir came to get them again, looking exhausted from the long day.

“Ah, there you are. Were you girls good?” he asked.

“They were little angels,” Hana assured them. She gave Nahida a smile. “Though that one is too smart for her own good. Careful, little one. You’ll end up a nurse like me and have to listen to doctors order you about all day.”

“Maybe I’ll become a doctor,” Nahida said, closing her book to put it back on the shelf. The pained looks that Bashir and Hana gave her let her know that had been the wrong thing to say.

“Allah willing,” Bashir said tiredly. “Come, let’s get some dinner and go home. The hospital cafeteria has some good choices.”

“Cocogoat?” Qiqi asked, looking up from where she’d attached herself like a limpet to Bashir’s leg the moment he’d appeared.

“Perhaps!” Bashir agreed, and Nahida followed him down to the cafeteria. They did, in fact, have coconut cookies, to Qiqi’s delight.

That night, as Bashir tucked them in, Nahida asked, “Doctor Bashir, could we work on a treatment plan for leukemia using Dendro?”

Bashir paused at that, frowning down at Nahida. “For leukemia? Where did you…”

“Rasab, do you know him? His mother is Sana,” Nahida explained.

“No, I don’t typically work in pediatrics unless a parahuman is involved,” Bashir admitted. He knelt by the bed, his dark eyes peering into Nahida’s. “Nahida…you must understand: in Iraq, it is very dangerous for Parahumans to use their powers. Or Vision Holders. Even on sick little boys. I know you want to help, but…”

“But why?” Nahida asked, tears coming into her eyes. “I don’t think I could just cure him, but I could help!”

Bashir was silent for a long time, playing with the edge of the blanket in his fingers as Qiqi stared at him, sucking on her thumb, and Nahida’s heart rose into her throat. At last, Bashir said, “I have heard of Vision Holders working in hospitals, especially Anemo ones, though also Electro on occasion. Perhaps…well. Perhaps we can work something out. We must be very careful though. Parahumans are treated better here than Syria or Saudi Arabia, but, well…many still mistrust them. Especially because…”

“Because of Farasha,” Nahida said quietly.

“Farasha?” Qiqi asked, taking her thumb out of her mouth. “See Qiqi?”

“Soon, my heart,” Bashir said gently, putting a hand on Qiqi’s and giving it a squeeze. He turned back to Nahida, his expression troubled. “How much do you know? What did you see last week?”

“She stinks of Death, and her butterflies…” Nahida shivered involuntarily.

“No butterflies,” Qiqi whimpered, trying to hide under her blanket.

“No butterflies,” Bashir agreed gently, smoothing hair from Qiqi’s forehead. She calmed, and he continued, “Farasha is, in some ways, a great hero to this nation. She has saved so many like you and Qiqi, and protected us from Iran’s armies. But in others…”

“It’s like having a beast living next to you. A silly beast, with ribbons in its mane, but with terrible claws. You know the beast is kindly, but it’s wounded, and when it roars…”

“Wounded?” Bashir asked, immediately worried. “Farasha was hurt?”

“Yes, but no,” Nahida said, struggling to think of how to verbalize what she thought. “It’s her…mind. Like Qiqi. You can’t see her wounds.”

“Ah,” Bashir relaxed and nodded. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

“You mentioned the psychology of parahumans. Are they all…?” Nahida couldn’t finish the sentence.

Bashir stood, turning out the light. “Farasha cares for you, Nahida. She’d never hurt you. Neither would Qiqi. Good night.”

Then, his heart bleeding, Bashir left to be alone in his room. Nahida hugged Qiqi, and fear filled her heart.

The Demons. They all had demons. What calamity had befallen this world, that so many demons plagued it?

Second Archon War: Timeline to Date

Since people have been asking about the timeline, here it is from my notes.

1999-11-02 - Raiden Shogun appears, fighting and defeating Leviathan.

1999-12-05 - The Senkoku Decree and Kamikazee, Raiden assumes control of Japan’s government.

2000-04-12 Behemoth attacks and destroys Guadalajara, Mexico. Raiden does nothing.

2000-09-15 The Siberian kills Danny Hebert, but Hero survives.

2000-09-20 Danny Hebert’s funeral. The Simurgh destroyed Davao City.

2001-03-05 Behemoth attacked Dire Dawa and mostly destroyed it.

2001-07-18 The Simurgh attacks Madison, Wisconsin. The Travelers arrive from Earth Honkai and free Paimon.

2001-10-02 Venti arrives in Munich

2001-10-17 Venti destroys the Berlin Gesellschaft facility

2001-10-19 Venti and Raiden meet for the first time

2001-10-27 Venti arrives in Bremen

2001-11-1 Venti cleanses Dorothy and Geoff

2001-11-2 Venti meets with Legend and cleanses him for good measure.

2001-11-10 The Travelers and Paimon raid the brothel in Milwaukee.

2001-12-9 The Battle of Munich and the death of Khonsu, destruction of the Gesellschaft.

2001-12-20 Marriage of Naomi and Capri, Contessa develops a Disney obsession.

2002-1-10 Wisteria Wedding

2002-1-18 Ishihara executed

2002-5-7 Behemoth attacks the Loy Yang power station in Victoria, Australia.

2002-5-25 Venti wins Eurovision, setting a new tone for European politics.

2002-8-16 The Simurgh attacks REDACTED

2002-10-27 Nahida arrives in Baghdad Iraq

2003-??-?? Behemoth attacks REDACTED

2003-10-27 Simurgh comes to wish Nahida a Happy Birthday.

Second Archon War: Imperatrix Umberosa 15

Imperatrix Umberosa 15: Fish or Cut Bait

Beta'd and edited by The Grand Cogitator, October Daye, Dr_Feelgood, and Philosophysics

The door to Alexandria’s office burst open, and she looked up as Contessa rushed in, slamming the door behind her. “Were we involved?”

Alexanrida set her pen down and collapsed her hands before her. “In what, exactly?”

“You know,” Contessa said, coming forward and planting her hands on the desk, actually leaning over Alexandria. “Were we involved?”

Alexandria glanced over at a newspaper, which had the headline that had rocked the globe on it.

ATTEMPTED COUP AGAINST SHOGUN: FORMER PRIME MINISTER NAKAMURA DEAD

She looked back at Contessa, meeting her eyes. “No. To the best of my knowledge, the Protectorate and the PRT had nothing to do with this.”

Contessa studied Alexandria for a moment, which made her frown. “Don’t you know this already, Contessa? You could have just asked-”

“I had to know,” Contessa said with a sigh, and dragged over a chair, slumping into it. She took her hat off, revealing frizzy and sweat-slicked hair. “This is bad. I didn’t see this coming. At all.  It’s bad, Alex.”

A chill ran down as Alexandria realized that Contessa had been genuinely confused earlier. Shifting uneasily, she cleared her throat. “How bad?”

“We’ve never seen her angry,” Contessa said, looking up at the ceiling, her tone far away. “Not truly. She got ticked off at you when she thought you told You-Know-Who on her, and she was upset when Heartbreaker tried to take her…but we’ve never seen her truly furious before.”

“What about her battle with Leviathan? The Kill Order? What about the Kamikaze?” Alexandria asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Contessa lowered her gaze and met Alexandria’s eyes. “She enjoyed fighting Levithan. She was upset that it attacked Japan, but she saw that fight as mildly amusing. The Kill Order she barely noticed. She was irritated with the Chinese but didn’t consider the CUI a legitimate threat, because, well…they weren’t. But she’s pissed now.”

“I heard Princess Ami and her companion were hospitalized,” Alexandria said slowly, her eyes drifting back to the paper. “You don’t think…we assumed she was just collecting powerful Parahumans.”

“Whether or not she started off that way, she actually does consider Ami to be her daughter now, which makes the robot extra weird,” Contessa said with a shake of her head. “I can sort of Path Raiden now, original Raiden that is, but it’s still unreliable. You don’t have to be a Thinker to realize that her official statements ring of a mother whose baby was hurt though.”

“And of a country preparing for war.” Alexandria picked up the paper and grimaced, flipping it to show a picture of Lord Nakamura. “I have a feeling we’re about to find out how much the former Prime Minister was holding her back.”

“I’d give you an answer, but you might as well ask Eighty,” Contessa said with a sigh.

“Eighty?” Alexandria asked, tilting her head to one side.

In response, Contessa produced a Magic Eight Ball, to which someone had glued a pair of googly eyes in the holes of the eights.

Despite herself, Alexandria snorted in amusement. “I’ll pass. There is something else I wanted to ask you about, however.”

Contessa sat up, her eyebrows rising. “Oh?”

That was odd. Normally, she’d just spit out the answer unprompted. “Yes. It’s about Keith.”

“I’ve told you, I honestly can’t get any answers about what happened to him. I know Barbados did it, but how or why? I can’t even begin to get my Path to answer,” Contessa said with a shake of her head, and what looked like a slight blush of embarrassment. Alexandria was well aware Contessa had been stranded for nearly a day at Disneyland Paris by Venti, though no one had been able to work out exactly how he’d managed it.

“Not that. Well, not entirely.” Alexandria set aside the paper and grimaced, rubbing her temple with two fingers. “Keith…Legend…we’ve completed our investigation, which was mostly a farce, and come to the conclusion that he did abandon his post, and that he did defy orders and the rules to fight at Munich. I don’t personally want to see him run out on a rail; God knows he did do the right thing, but that combined with the possibility that he is compromised by Barbatos…”

“Oh. Oh!” Contessa’s eyes went wide, and she leaned forward in her chair. Was she…surprised? The only times Alexandria had seen her actually surprised had involved Raiden and Venti, which this did from a certain perspective, but Alexandria had thought Contessa would have seen this one coming.

“Well, hmm, let me see,” Contessa’s eyes darted back and forth, and she started muttering to herself, all while caressing Eighty, the little eyes bouncing up and down in a rather unnerving fashion. After half a minute, she nodded, then shook Eighty and peered at the answer.

“Is that…really necessary?” Alexandria asked, feeling more than a little disturbed. This wasn’t like Contessa at all, though she had become increasingly odd in the past few months.

“I like to think of myself as quirky instead of odd, but yes, I am…well, let’s just say that I’m trying out something different,” Contessa said in the now all too familiar dreamy and detached tone. While in the past Alexandria had found that unnerving, now it was comforting. “So, I think your best solution is to reassign Legend to PRT ENE.”

“Brockton Bay? Why?” Alexandria asked, taken aback by this abrupt answer.

“The people who want to see him punished will see it as a demotion. The people who want to see him rewarded will see it as a chance to free up his time and let him respond to global crisis points more easily, since while Brockton is a bit of a cape hub, it’s not really a problem city like New York,” Contessa explained. “Plus, it will give the new PRT Director a more experienced cape to mentor him.”

“Calvert, right?” Alexandra asked, reaching for the file. He’d been gravely injured during the Ellisburg mission and had been promoted as part of a deal to keep his mouth shut that it had been the Shuumatsuban that had cleaned up that mess.

“Exactly,” Contessa agreed, and Alexandria gave up on looking for the information. “Move Armsmaster to Philadelphia though, and put Chevalier in charge of New York.”

“Why am I the PRT head again?” Alexandria asked with a wry smile.

“Because I’m quirky, and you’re reliable,” Contessa said with a smile and wink. Then she sobered. “But Alex. I can’t stress this enough: Do not further anger Raiden. If she finds out we were involved at all, and we were, she’s going to come after us.”

The sudden change of subject caused Alexandria’s gut to clench, and she remembered.

DEPART, MORTAL. AND NEVER RETURN.

Suppressing a shudder, she managed to ask, “How are we involved? Weren’t you just asking if we were involved?”

“Vials. We sold vials to the North Koreans and several Japanese dissidents. I haven’t been able to follow my Path to see if she will find out with absolute certainty, but the odds are not in our favor,” Contessa said, her tone grim.

“And if she does find out?” Alexandria asked, her gut churning like it had when she was on chemo.

In response, Contessa jiggled the Magic 8 Ball again. A moment later, it gave its answer.

“Outlook Not So Good.”

Adjusting the cowl of his jacket, Ishihara glanced around him nervously, then banged on the metal door of the garage. He heard a car honk in the distance behind him and flinched, but a second glance showed nothing moving in the shadows of the docks around him. A moment later, the shutter of the garage opened, and a tall muscular woman dressed in coveralls and a stained shirt peered out. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to deliver a package to a… Captain Bukdu?” Ishihara said, standing up straight.

“You’re looking at her,” the woman said, her visible eye gleaming in the purple light of the street lamps. The other was covered by a red handkerchief with a black square at the center where the pupil would have been.

“Ah.” Ishihara stepped forward, cold sweat forming on his spine. “Then you are the one I contacted. I am ‘Mackerel.’”

“You do look like a little fish,” Bukdu said, eyeing Ishihara up and down. She glanced up and down the alley, then jerked her head into the garage. “Come on.”

Hastily, Ishihara stepped over the threshold, and Bukdu slammed the shutter shut behind him. Within, he found a cluttered garage full of parts of machinery and scattered buckets and crates, as well as three toughs, all large men who glowered at him.

One of the men growled something in Korean, which Bukdu responded to in the same language.

“I’d appreciate it if while I am present, you speak Japanese or English,” Ishihara said, his lip curling in distaste. The thugs gave him blank looks, but Bukdu laughed.

“Fine, fine. I was just telling the boys to get the boat ready. Go on, we’re not getting paid to stand around!”

The sailors saluted sloppily, then exited out of the back of the building towards the nearby docks. Bukdu kicked a stool towards Ishihara, then pulled out an electric kettle from a pile of junk on a nearby table. “Tea while you wait?”

“No, thank you,” Ishihara said stiffly. He certainly didn’t want to drink whatever swill this scum would serve.

“Suit yourself, I’m thirsty,” Bukdu said, and dug out a cracked ceramic mug, heating up a cup of tea for herself. She was halfway through it when one of the sailors stuck his head in. “Boat’s ready, captain.”

“Great.” Bukdu downed her tea, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and nodding to Ishihara. “Well, come on then. No time like the present.”

The boat itself was small, only about 20 meters long, with rust staining the sides and plenty of fishing tackle and nets adorning it. On the side of the boat, written in English was the word “Crux” along with a crude spray-painted black cross.

“You got any shit to throw on board?” Bukdu demanded, turning her one eye on Ishihara.

In response, he held up the one small bag he was carrying. “Only this, and myself. As the job stipulated.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a customer tried to swap cargo on me at the last moment,” Bukdu commented, and sprang aboard the ship, her legs carrying her much farther than a normal human’s should have.

Ishihara’s heart skipped a beat, but as Bukdu straightened, he caught a purple glint in her hair, hung there as an ornament: Vision. An electro one by the look of it. She turned, offering a hand down to Ishihara, who was clutching his valise to his chest. “What’s wrong? You did your research, didn’t you?”

“I… I had heard you defeated Umibōzu as an unpowered human,” Ishihara said slowly, feeling dread grip his chest. If this woman was a Vision Holder, then the Shuumatsuban would know of her…

“And I did! Didn’t get this until after Her Excellency showed up. Now get on board before her pet ninjas catch wind that I’m breaking the law again,” Bukdu ordered grimly.

Swallowing, Ishihara took her hand. He was out of options. They were already rounding up dissidents, and his name was at the top of the list.

Especially since he’d been instrumental in planning the assassination attempt. What fools they’d been. He’d actually thought they could kill, or at least wound, the Endslayer. They’d imported Tinkertech, hired foreign mercenaries, and as much as it shamed Ishihara, gotten help from the damned Koreans and Yangban. It still hadn’t been enough. Taken by complete surprise, and with dozens of powerful capes and tinkertech weapons pointed at her, Raiden hadn’t even been scratched. Mushu and Keiga had been almost worse. Their vehicle had been immolated with them in it, only for two giant dragons to burst forth and slaughter those who had attempted to attack them.

At least that traitorous dog Nakamura was dead. Small consolation. They’d killed a few of the Sentai and several Shuumatsuban, but not a single member of the Royal Family. Well, aside from the true Royal Family. The Emperor and his family had been mournful but ultimately necessary collateral damage.

It took agonizing minutes, but the Crux finally cast off, with the sailors working quickly and efficiently, talking in low tones in Korean. Ishihara wondered if they’d been here before Raiden had shown herself, or if they were a part of the wave of immigrants she’d allowed in. As far as she was concerned, to become Japanese, one simply had to swear loyalty and devotion to her Eternity. She cared not for blood. Another sign of the complete disaster she was.

The boat motored out, leaving the city of Niigata behind. Ishihara turned his back on Japan, deliberately not gazing at the lights of the city, or the sun that would soon be rising behind it. Instead, he faced towards his future to the West. And desperately fought to keep his rebellious stomach under control.

After another round of dry heaves and vomiting, Ishihara slumped against the gunnels, feeling utterly drained and miserable. A sailor stepped over him, preparing nets and machinery as Bukdu called orders. Staggering to his feet on the rolling deck, he stumbled over to her.

“Why are you fishing? We should be making all speed for North Korean waters!” he hissed.

Bukdu gave him a look that seemed to drip condescension, though she schooled it to neutrality soon enough. “If a JBN patrol boat sees a fishing boat that isn’t fishing, what do you think they’re going to do? I’m the smuggler: I’ve run back and forth on this route often enough to know how to get things in and out of Japan. And it’s a lot easier if my holds are full of fish when they come looking for drugs.”

“You have drugs aboard!?” Ishihara hissed, horrified at the thought. This was what was wrong with Korean filth: they had no respect for the law.

“Not on the way to Korea, but I’ll pick up a load for the way back. Why, you want a hit? One of the boys might have some pot in their bunk,” Bukdu asked.

One of the sailors nearby turned and shot the captain a grin. “Not worth our hides to be smoking on the job, Captain!”

“You’re damn fucking right, Kazoo!” she shouted back, and the sailors all laughed as they went about their work. She turned to Ishihara, frowning at him. “Here, take some Dramamine. Then go hole up in my cabin. It’ll be a day or so before we hand you over to the NKs. And we’ve got fishing to do. Lubber like you will just get in the way.”

Gratefully, Ishihara took the medication and then went to collapse on Bukdu’s bed. He found a picture of her with another woman, and by their posture, one she was intimate with. The back of his mind tickled, and he thought he recognized her. Maybe she was a Korean comfort woman. He’d had enough of those over the years. The thought of sharing a woman with filth like Bukdu disgusted him, and he rolled over, managing to pass out.

Hours later, he was awoken by a rough shake. “Get up. We’re at the contact point.”

Bukdu was standing over him, a massive axe strapped to her back. It was one of those weapons Raiden churned out for her sentai, and Ishihara felt another stab of paranoia. “Where did you get that?”

“Prudence?” Bukdu fingered the axe, a sharklike grin on her face. “What do you think? I’m a smuggler. Through illegal means.”

Accepting that, Ishihara let himself be dragged from the bed and out onto the deck. The air was dark, fog and mist surrounding the boat as they rocked on what felt like massive swells, but was probably fairly calm for January on the Sea of Japan. The nets were out, and the sailors were working, but the one she’d called Kazoo turned to the captain.

“They’re out there. The winds tell me they’re about three clicks out, that way,” the young man said, pointing. Now that Ishihara was paying a bit more attention, he noticed that the boy had an educated accent, and didn’t have the rough-and-tumble appearance of the other sailors. He did have a bright orange kazoo on a thong about his neck and a glowing green gem at his belt. Another Vision holder.

“Do all smugglers employ capes?” Ishihara snarled, turning to Bukdu.

She regarded him calmly. “The ones that steal Electro Crystals out from under her Excellency’s nose do. Now shut up. Sound travels farther than you’d think in this fog.”

The next few minutes passed with nail-biting tension until a light appeared in the fog. Ishihara’s heart pounded in his chest as Bukdu went over and used a lantern to flash a signal, which after a few moments, was returned.

“That’s them,” Bukdu said grimly. “Get ready, boys. I want this handoff to go smoothly, but if it doesn’t…”

There was a series of metallic clicks and rattles, and Ishihara started as he realized each of the sailors was armed. They tucked their weapons under leather aprons and heavy jackets, but they were clearly ready for a fight.

“What are you doing?! If this is my contact-”

“Maybe they want a better deal. I’ve dealt with some frisky NKs before. And if these are really Yangban…well. Things could get real interesting.”

The tension continued to ratchet up in Ishihara’s gut as the other ship pulled closer. It turned out to be another fishing vessel, even more rusted and ill-maintained than the Crux, with dozens of grim-looking sailors on the decks. Ropes were tossed over, and the two vessels pulled together. Bukdu conference with the captain of the other ship, then motioned to Ishihara.

“This is your stop. You’re their problem now.”

Nodding, Ishihara stepped forward, the sailors on the other ship reaching out to haul him over with rough hands. He didn’t appreciate the handling, but he was grateful to finally be safe away: His nightmare was over.

“Minister Ishihara. Welcome aboard the Lu Rong Yuan,” the ship's officer said in lightly accented Japanese.

But it was the wrong accent. And the wrong name.

“What?! You’re CUI? I was traveling to-”

The officer backhanded Ishihara, sending him to the deck. Then he raised his voice. “Dispose of them.”

One of the Lu Rong Yuan’s sailors crackled with power, sending off a bolt of lightning, while three others cast off nets to reveal heavy weaponry. Ishihara cried out, then screamed as the deck beneath him shuddered and rung like a bell, followed by a deep echoing boom.

Sirens blared, and out of the mists, two other boats suddenly emerged, prompting shouts of shock and surprise from the sailors of the Lu Rong Yuan. Bukdu, on the other hand, seemed prepared.

“WE WANT THEM ALIVE!” she bellowed, glowing with sudden power as she unlimbered her axe. “FOR THE SHOGUN!”

The next few moments were a chaotic blur as Ishihara tried to crawl into a hole to hide. Men screamed and shouted, lightning and wind roared, one man grew an extra set of arms, and Bukdu cleaved others in half with Prudence. At first, the Yangban and Chinese sailors seemed to have the advantage, but then uniformed officers of the JBN with machine guns and Sentai in power armor joined the fight. Ishihara didn’t get a good look at any of it, though he did try to crawl over to the other side of the Lu Rong to jump into the water, only to be grabbed by the collar and hauled to his feet.

“So sorry, sir. But you’re wanted alive. For now,” Kazoo said. Ishihara tried desperately to claw at him, but he was no match for a Vision Holder’s strength, and bonds of wind wrapped about him. He was hauled off the listing and burning Lu Rong as Bakufan sailors fought flames and took captive the Chinese sailors and onto the deck of a JBN destroyer, then tossed at the feet of a woman in civilian clothes.

“Here he is, Ms. Noriko,” Kazoo said. “Mostly undamaged, as requested.”

“Very good.” A hand reached down, tilting Ishihara’s face up, and he realized he recognized the woman.

“You! You’re Bukdu’s lover?!” he demanded. The name had finally triggered his memory. “Noriko Goya. You betrayed me? One of my own subordinates?!”

Her lip curled in disgust, and she drew her hand back, delivering a slap that sent Ishihara to the deck, ears ringing. “I am no traitor. Unlike you. I serve her Excellency.”

Spitting out blood and what felt like a tooth, Ishihara rose up to glare at Noriko. “Without me, you’d be nothing! If I hadn’t given you the contracts-”

“Then I’d have found someone else to sell to. Jade Chamber Industries didn’t need your patronage. You needed me to finance your campaigns. Something I deeply regret doing now. Kazuha, did you sweep them all up?”

“A few escaped our grasp by dying most inconveniently,” Kazoo replied, his tone apologetic. “But we found identifying papers. They’re DPRK and CUI intelligence officers.”

“And a real Yangban cape!”

A beaten and bloodied man, now with only three arms, was shoved to the deck beside Ishihara by Bukdu, Prudence on her shoulder as she grinned wolfishly. Her axe was gore-stained as well, and there was a cut on her cheek that was dripping blood down the side of her face.

“Tch. Another scar?” Noriko sighed, digging out a lacy handkerchief, pressing the soft cloth tenderly to Bukdu’s injury.

“Ah, it’s nothing! Barely even a scratch! These fuckers didn’t even put up a good fight!” Bukdu laughed even as a faint blush crept up her cheeks.

“You sold me out, bitch!” Ishihara snarled, glaring at Bukdu, his hands extended towards her like claws.

She turned a side-eye towards him and had the audacity to chuckle slightly before looking back to Noriko. “So we’ve hooked our catch. Do we still need the bait?”

“He does seem a bit over the weight limit,” Noriko said, her own tone icy. “Lighten his burden. Toss the rest to the bottom feeders.”

Bukdu kicked Ishihara over onto his back, hefting her axe.

“No, wait! I have money still! Hidden accounts! I’m worth more to you-”

He was still crying out when his head bounced off the deck; his body falling in the other direction. His deaf ears could not hear his decapitated body splashing into the water. His sightless eyes never saw the finely carved box that Noriko placed his head in. His cut bonds meant none mourned his passing.

An appropriate end for a false patriot; a fitting gift for the Raiden Shogun.

And the opening salvo of the Third Sino-Japanese War.

Author's Note:

Yes, that's Beidou and Ningguang. 

PHILO: I don’t know why, but I instinctively suggested making things gayer between Ningguang and Beidou during the after-battle aftercare, adding in blushes. For some reason, it appeals to a side of me to have lesbians flirt as they take down conservative nationalists.

HAPPY NEW YEAR - January 2024 poll

A new year, a new set of chapters to write! Unfortunately, I had a little too much partying last month and not enough writing, so I'll be a bit behind on some updates and I need to play catch up! As such, I'm putting everything on this one since I do need to meet some obligations and otherwise basically any story would be starved for updates.

You can also find another poll on my discord, which is open to everyone. https://discord.gg/jaK9kCcY

Dark Legend of Potter, Chapter 57

Thanks to the tireless efforts of Tonks, Megumin was thwarted from causing any Explosions on this particular train ride, even though she was absolutely certain that she saw Sirius Black no less than three times, all of which could only be responded to in only one fashion.

“LET ME WRECK VENGEANCE!” Megumin bellowed, straining towards the window from under where Ron was sitting on her as Hermione and Tonks pried Chunchumaru out of her hand.

“For the last bloody time, you can’t just go blowing up a flock of sheep just because you think one of them might be a Death Eater!” Tonks lectured as the Hogwarts Express sped away from the blissfully unaware ovines.

“Help me out, boy,” Megumin said to Blackie, who had wandered into the passenger car. “You understand what a Sirius threat this is!”

“Oh bloody hell, spit that out!” Ron cried, jumping off of Meguin. “Bad dog!”

In response, Blackie put the nearly comatose and slobbery Scabber’s into Ron’s hands, which meant Megumin could try to get free and cast an Explosion spell.

“Absolutely not,” Darkness said, collaring Megumin and throwing her back down onto the couch, where she took a turn sitting on Megumin. “Those sheep are too cute to explode. If you must take out your frustrations on anyone, feel free to use me as your punching bag.”

“By the way Megumin, you don’t wreck vengeance. You wreak it,” Hermonie informed Megumin as they finally got her wand away from her.

“Normal fools may wreak, but I will wreck anyone who dares defy me with the power of my glorious Explosion Magic!” Megumin said, slightly muffled by the fact that she was being sat on by a giant schoolgirl.

“Forget all that, this damn dog killed my poor Scabbers!” Ron complained, holding up the limp rat.

Instantly, everyone, even Megumin, forgot about the exploding sheep and crowded around Ron and Scabbers.

“Quick, give him mouth to mouth, Ron!” Megumin encouraged, earning incredulous looks from Tonks, Hermione, and Darkness. However, to their horror, Ron laid Scabbers down on the bench and attempted to do just that, putting his lips to Scabber's still slobber covered muzzle while Megumin used two fingers to begin chest compressions.

After just a few seconds, however, Scabbers was revived and bit Ron on the lip, which caused him to shout and jerk upright, the rat dangling from his face. Scabbers quickly let go, then tried to crawl inside Ron’s shirt.

“Ow! Gerrof!” Ron said, putting a hand to his blood lip and digging the slimy rodent out of his shirt. “What was that for?”

“Ron, you gave a rat mouth to mouth. What did you think was going to happen?” Tonks asked in exasperation.

“Well, at least Megumin helped me save his life. Fat lot of good you all were,” Ron said then turned to glare at Blackie. “And as for you! Don’t try to eat my rat!”

Blackie sneezed and sat down giving Ron a hurt look, his tail thumping on the ground.

“He wasn’t trying to kill your stupid rat, Ronald,” Hermione said, cupping the dog’s head in her hands and fondling his ears. “Blackie is a good boy, who just wanted to return your pet to you. Didn’t you, Blackie?”

The dog barked happily, his tail wagging as he jumped up and tried to lick Hermione’s face, who laughed and pushed the dog back down.

“Stop sulking, Ron,” Megumin said, passing him her handkerchief. “You have acquired a noble wound in the effort to save a friend.”

“Oh bloody fantastic,” Ron grumbled, pressing the cloth to his bloodied lip. “It’s going to scar.”

“Well, maybe you can find some girls who like scars,” Tonks said with a chuckle.

Ron glowered at Tonks while Hermione snorted and tried to hide her guffaws. “Do you like scars?”

“Almost as much as a hairy chest,” Tonks said with a wink, which caused Ron to blush and reflexively touch his chest, which was still near hairless. “But I’ve got to go. Can I trust you three to keep Megumin from trying to desolate the countryside now that I have her wand?”

“We can stop her from doing it but I don’t think anyone can keep her from trying,” Darkness admitted, even as she tried not to glance at Ron’s lip and blush.

“Point. Well, I’m off. Megumin, I will strangle you if you try to blow up another barnyard,” Tonks said, and headed out.

For his part, Blackie lay down on the floor, his eyes watching the teens as they all watched Megumin.

“Do girls really like scars?” Ron blurted, trying to get a look at his bloodied lip.

“No, that’s nonsense. Girls like well-spoken and intellectual men who challenge but respect them,” Hermione sniffed.

“I-I think a scar or two could be rugged and handsome,” Darkness stammered, blushing and looking down.

“I prefer a man with a dark and mysterious past, with one or two horrifying scars that he can reveal at the proper time to enhance his backstory!” Megumin declared.

Ron considered this, then made a loud raspberry sound, which he immediately regretted as it sprayed blood everywhere and hurt mightily. “I think you’re all just barmy.”

This earned him yet another session of No One is Speaking to Ron, which Ron, once again, completely failed to notice, but Blackie found hilarious.

Hours later, they finally arrived at Hogwarts without any sheep, goats, cows, birds, or even rocks suffering a grisly fate.

“Feels good to be back at the old castle, doesn’t it?” Ron said as they stepped off the train. Naturally, no one responded to him, as they were all Not Talking To Ron.

“I do hope that Professor Lupin isn’t a disappointment this year,” Hermonie said with a heavy sigh, which clearly was not responding to Ron.

“I hope that Sirius Black attempts to ambush us, and I can finally have my revenge!” Megumin cackled. She reached down, rubbing Blackie’s back. “You keep an eye out for him, eh boy?”

“BARK!” Blackie said, wagging his tail.

“I wonder what happened to Professor Binns,” Darkness said with a frown as they headed towards the carriages. “Aqua said she got the new position, but…”

“I’m just glad the old git is gone. Though I will miss nap time during his class,” Ron mused. “He-”

“I wasn’t a fan of Professor Mizu’s style,” Hermione said right over Ron, which he barely even noticed. “But honestly if there was one professor worse than her, it was him. How can you manage to make the history of magic so boring?”

“At least Aqua’s entertaining?” Darkness said, frowning slightly. “I did like her expeditions, like when we went to the forest or hunted frogs.”

“Practical lessons are the best! Perhaps Professor Lupin will continue the tradition,” Megumin said, rubbing her hands together eagerly.

“You just want to blow something else up,” Ron said, rolling his eyes as he scampered into a carriage. Despite this being manifestly and obviously true, the three girls picked another carriage to ride in, leaving a confused Ron all by himself until someone else joined him.

“Ah, Ronald Weasley! It seems fate has once more decreed our meeting! Prepare yourself, for I, Tom Roberts, have-”

“Oh, hello, Tom. How was your summer?” Ron asked, already wishing someone else, anyone else, had decided to ride with him.

“Really boring actually,” Tom said, making a face. “I had to stay with Professor Snape. Did you know he lives in a muggle village? He doesn’t have a telly or anything, and all his books are just potion manuals. Fortunately, there was a library nearby, so I had something to do.”

“That’s it? You just read books all summer?” Ron said, mentally shocked that Lord Voldemort had actually been a massive loser and nerd. Which honestly, shouldn’t have been that surprising.

“Well, I also did some potions with Professor Snape, but that was mostly boring. I did try to get him to teach me how to duel, but he told me you needed ‘self-control’ for that. I just wanted to learn some interesting spells instead of reading muggle comics all day,” Tom said with a heavy sigh.

“You didn’t play quidditch or anything?” Ron asked. “Maybe watch a few games?”

“I’d rather learn how to fly. Be brilliant if you had a spell that did that,” Tom said with a shake of his head.

“Sure, but a broom can go much faster,” Ron argued, and the two boys were off with a long and rambling argument about self-propelled flight VS brooms, and whether or not quidditch would be more interesting if you were allowed to murder your opponents mid-match like in the original Serbian Variation rules.

When they arrived at the castle, Ron went back over to the girls, with Tom heading over with the Slytherins. “Did you know Tom spent the whole summer in the library?” Ron said, which the girls all ignored. “Makes you forget he’s the reborn version of-”

“SHHHHH!” all three girls hissed, forgetting that they weren’t speaking to Ron at last.

“We’re not supposed to say that!” Hermione whispered fiercely.

“You could blow his cover!” Megumin said, clamping a hand over Ron’s mouth.

“You shouldn’t associate with him, Ron. He’s a Death Eater!” Darkness hissed.

“Lady Aqua said she forgave all of Thomas’ sins, and that he has been reincarnated into a new life! You should give him a chance.”

Everyone turned around to see Lavender beaming at them, Yunyun and Luna standing at the side.

“Lavender,” Hermione said, her tone completely exasperated. “What on Earth are you wearing?”

Unlike everyone else, who was dressed in their school robes, Lavender was dressed in a royal blue nun’s habit, with an oddly familiar blue square at the center of the bandeau.

“After seeing the many miracles of our beloved Lady Aqua, I have dedicated my life to spreading her word, and guiding lost souls to her light,” Lavender said piously, holding up her silver waterwheel pendant.

“And you’re just letting your minion do this?” Megumin demanded of Yunyun.

“L-Lavender isn’t my minion! She’s my friend!” Yunyun protested, shooting her minion an apologetic look.

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for being out of uniform?” Darkness asked, sounding just as baffled as everyone else felt.

“She’s expressing her religious freedom,” Luna said seriously. “It would be oppression for them to deny Luna that right.”

“We have the right to religious freedom?” Ron asked, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“If we don’t, I’m standing up for our rights. And my friends in the USSR are standing with me. Power to the people!” Lavender declared, sticking a fist up in the air.

“Miss Brown, you are supposed to be in your school uniform. What on Earth are you wearing?” Professor McGonagall said, coming over to investigate the disturbance. She shot a quick glance at Megumin and her group but was astonished to find that for once, Megumin wasn’t responsible.

That’s because McGonagall hadn’t learned the most important lesson of all yet: Everything, and I mean everything, is really Aqua’s fault.

“I have been officially ordained as a Priestess of the Axis Cult!” Lavender said proudly, raising her chin up in the air. “As such, I-”

“Will be earning a detention for every minute you are out of uniform from this moment onward,” McGonagall said firmly.

“I fear not your blandishments! For I am a maiden of Lady Aqua, who shelters in her blessed light!”

“-and will have all your makeup and cosmetic potions confiscated,” McGonagall added.

Lavender hesitated, looking uncertain. “Uh, L-Lady Aqua would not abandon me, a-and I will not abandon her…”

“Don’t forget the wise words of Lady Aqua,” Luna said, taking Lavender’s hands into her. “If something is too hard, just give up! Always take the easy path, that way you’ll have no regrets!”

“...I’ll just go get changed,” Lavender said and slunk off towards the lavatory.

“Where is she getting that life advice?” Hermione asked no one in particular. “Out of a knock off fortune cookie?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Luna said, whirling about with a huge grin on her face and holding up several books in blue. “I present to you, the official Axis Cult handbook, full of wonderful sayings and proverbs by our Blessed Lady Aqua! You get one free with every yearly subscription to the Quibbler!”

“I-I already got mine,” Yunyun said, holding up her book.

“I got one too!” Tom added eagerly, holding up his own blue book and earning looks of utter shock and disbelief from the assembled Slytherins.

“You seriously wasted your money on THAT trash?” Kazuma demanded, clearly scandalized.

“It’s a load of nonsense, not to mention conspiracy theories and muggle lover propaganda,” Draco sneered.

“Every true member of the Soviet Yunyun is getting one,” Tom said proudly. “I was the first one after our Dear Leader got hers.”

“Are we sure he’s a Slytherin?” Ginny demanded of one of the prefects. “It’s not too late to give him over to the ‘Puffs, is it?”

“We already got one crazy, we don’t need another,” an older Hufflepuff girl said, then let out a squeal as Megumina attempted to tackle her. The only reason she didn’t succeed is Tom and Draco beat her to it.

“ENOUGH!” McGonagall snapped. “I cannot believe we are starting the year with detentions, and you have not yet been seated in the Great Hall! Prefects! Deal with your miscreants.”

Before the Slytherin prefects could move in, Ginny Weasley stepped forward and grabbed Draco by the ear, hauling him off of the groaning Hufflepuff girl. “Are you an idiot!? You don’t just go tackling people! What kind of Slytherin are you!?”

As Draco stammered his protests that he had “tripped”, Tom was frog-marched off by a Sytherin Prefect, and Percy Weasley came over and hauled Megumin up by her collar.

“Say what you will, tyrant!” Megumin spat. “But I will never apologize!”

“Good job,” Percy said, and set Megumin back on her feet, dusting her off. “Next time though, have Ron do it for you. You’re too small to properly tackle someone.”

Megumin blinked a few times, then turned to Ron. “Did I hit my head harder than I thought?”

“You were defending your sister. And you didn’t actually try to blow us all up. I’m going to count this as a victory,” Percy told her.

After that, it was time for all the older students to take their seats, and after that, for the Sorting to begin. No one particularly important was Sorted, nor were there any noteworthy Sortings, so that went by quickly enough. The interesting part came with the introduction of the new professors.

“First, our staffing changes for the year,” Dumbledore said, motioning to the High Table. “Professor Mizu has graciously agreed to teach History of Magic, as Professor Binns has finally passed on.”

This pronouncement was met with loud cheers and more than a few “WE LOVE YOU LADY AQUAs”, mostly from Luna and Lavender. Binns was most assuredly the least popular professor for how boring she was, and one thing no one had ever accused Aqua of was being boring.

“Our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is mister Remus Lupin,” Dumbledore said, and Lupin himself bowed to the assembled.

“I bet he’s a werewolf,” Megumin commented as polite applause filled the room.

“What? Why?” Ron asked, frowning at Remus suspiciously. “He seemed nice enough at your birthday party.”

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. “Is it because his name is Wolf McWolf?”

“Yes,” Megumin said, nodding. “Obviously, he’s related to wolves somehow. Being a werewolf is the most logical explanation.”

“Megumin, that’s very impolite. Calling someone a werewolf is a serious accusation,” Darkness hissed. “He just has a name like that! You don’t think Hermione is a farmer because her name is Granger, do you?”

Megumin shrugged, as to her, being a werewolf just meant you had an especially dark and tragic backstory, which was only

“Additionally, Professor Kettleburn has retired to spend time with his remaining fingers. To replace him, we have Professor Sylvia Slytherin to teach care of Magical Creatures,” Dumbledore added.

This got applause nearly as loud as Aqua’s as the male half of the student population cheered excitedly, having got a good look at Professor Sylvia, and even more so when she flashed a smile at them. Some of them might have noticed that she licked her lips in a rather predatory fashion, but then again they were teenage boys so they wouldn’t have recognized red flags if they’d been smacked in the face with them.

For her part, Yunyun made a mental note that it was against school rules to eat the students.

“And last but certainly not least, we have Officer Nymphadora Tonks as our new School Safety Officer, to guard against potential incursions.

Looking up from where she’d been feeding Sirius Black table scraps, Tonks nodded and waved. “That’s right, kiddies, you don’t need to worry about any escaped Death Eaters while I’m on the job!”

After that, the feast began, with  Megumin doing her level best to gorge herself to death and Ron manfully attempting to outdo her.

“I was very disappointed to learn you can only take up to two electives,” Hermione said as she served herself a far more reasonable portion of food. “It was very hard, but I managed to narrow it down to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.”

“I too am taking Ancient Runes, as well as Divination!” Megumin said around a mouthful of food. “Clearly, those are the two best subjects for a protagonist like me!”

“I’m taking Divination with you, but I have Care of Magical Creatures with Darkness,” Ron said, earning him glares from his female companions. “What?! I thought it would be with Old Kettleburn! Don’t forget, I know what Sylvia actually looks like!”

“Send us pictures old bean,” Fred said, which earned him a smack upside the back of his head from Angelina.

“Was she naked when you rescued her from the Chamber?” George asked, which earned him a pinch from Katie Bell.

“Yeah, but Megumin made sure I didn’t see it. Sort of glad, honestly,” Ron lied, which earned him a great deal of clemency from his female companions.

“I can’t believe you’re taking Divination. That was the easiest elective for me to cross off my list,” Hermione told Ron.

“Yeah, but it seems like an Easy O. I just copy down whatever nonsense Megumin spits out and old Trelawny is sure to give me top marks,” Ron said with a shrug.

Megumin nodded smugly. “Of course! My powers of precognition are well known!”

“I hardly think that will work,” Hermione sniffed, which earned her a laugh from several older Gryffindors.

“Are you kidding?” Fred told her. “Georgie and I have been turning in whatever we hear Megumin make dire pronouncements about since she was a firstie and we’ve got excellent marks.”

“‘My Burning Crimson eye has forseen a mighty doom! Whosoever taketh the first shower will be visited by a calamity most unfortunate, and suffer from horrible acne!’” George quoted, putting one hand over his eye and twisting his body dramatically.

“That’s only true if you let Megumin go first, she takes all the hot water,” Lavender said, shooting Megumin a dirty look.

“What other class do you have, Darkness?” Ron asked.

“Muggle Studies,” Darkness admitted. “I know my upbringing has been rather sheltered, and I wish to learn more of their society. If Megumin’s aunt and uncle are any indication, Muggles are a most fascinating culture.”

“They used to be incredibly boring. It took years of effort for me to train them properly,” Megumin said with a heavy sigh.

After that, it was back to their old dorms, where Megumin, Darkness, Hermione, Padma, and Lavender caught up and gossiped, staying up far too late as young teens are wont to do. The next day classes began, and unfortunately for the rest of the world, the Gryffindors had Divination first thing.

After clambering all the way up the North Tower, Megumin should have been winded, but upon exiting the trap door at the center of the classroom, she instead put a hand to her forehead. “Halt, Ronald! I sense a dark and mysterious presence here!”

“No, Darkness has care of magical creatures, it’s just us,” Ron told her.

“I speak not of our overly tall companion, but of an ill foreboding that hangs over this room!” Megumin proclaimed, jumping up atop a stool as her red eyes glowed in the dim light of the classroom.

“Long have I foreseen this day,” an ethereal voice whispered, drifting through a curtain of beads. “A shadow has fallen over my classroom…”

The rest of the students all turned to look at the curtains, but Megumin was not to be outdone. “There, Ronald! Do you not hear?! The footsteps of doom approach!”

“Fate may have foretold this hour, but I could do not to prevent it,” the voice whispered. “The only thing that yet remains to be seen, is which way the stars will align…”

“I have seen it! Today is the day that fate hinges up! If we do not act quickly, the world shall be reduced to fire and- Ron, where did you get that popcorn?” Megumin demanded.

“Hmm?” Ron said, passing the bucket to Lavender, who shoveled a large handful in her mouth, her eyes glued to Megumin. “Oh, don’t mind us. Do go on.”

“Yes! I have foreseen it! The greatest of my pupils has arrived!” the curtain was flung back in a rattle of beads, and a woman in a patchwork of colorful shawls and petticoats stepped forward, her great spectacles distorting her eyes to make them seem as large as cups, while her head went to her forehead as if she would swoon. “But shall this day lead to doom, or shall I be able to direct her gifts towards a brighter future!”

“BEHOLD! The Prophetess of the North Star, she who must guide us upon our journey into the misty depths of the future!” Megumin declaimed, jumping off her stool to fall on her knees before Professor Trelawny. “OH MISTRESS, MY INNER EYE BURNS! TEACH ME TO MASTER IT, LEST I BLIND MYSELF WITH VISIONS OF HORROR BEYOND MORTAL KEN!”

Reaching out a trembling hand, Trelawney traced Megumin’s lightning bolt scar with her thumb. “Yes…great power is locked within…I know the power of the Inner Eye. We must tame yours, Megumin, for you are a CHILD OF DESTINY!”

“But professor, what about us?!” Lavender asked, wiping a bit of popcorn from her lips. “I come to seek knowledge in the name of the Axis Cult, that evil might be averted!”

“I fear, my child, that most of my energies must be diverted to steer the mightiestmightest vessel, for none have cast such a shadow upon the future as the Girl Who Lived,” Trelawny intoned.

“Yeah, through sheer dumb luck. At least now we know how Voldemort bought it, Megumin blew him up!” Kazuma said, earning sniggers from several students.

Slowly, Megumin turned to Kazuma, drawing herself up and taking a red shawl from Trelawney to wrap about herself. She began to walk around him, her nose up in the air. “I see we have an unbeliever among us. Know this, Kazuma Crabbe. I, Megumin Potter, Foremost Seeress of the Crimson Demon Clan, have SEEN YOUR FUTURE! A great darkness awaits you, and if you do not watch your tread, you will fall into the embrace of your house’s foes!”

“Well, maybe I should steer clear of you then, because it seems to me you’re the one who keeps running into ancient evils, that you keep waking up I might add!” Kazuma snapped.

“Such is the fate of those chosen by Destiny!” Trelawney cried, throwing her hands up in the air at the same time as Megumin did.

“WOE!” both of them intoned.

“I have foreseen it! There is one among us who will not be with us come the end of the year! A traitor in our midst, and a great evil!” Trelawney wailed.

“WOE!” she and Megumin cried.

At the same time, Ron was trying to feed Scabbers some of the popcorn, having brought his rat with him in his robes, as he was convinced Blackie would eat the rat if he was left unattended. Which showed that Ron did perhaps have more of the seer’s gift than he thought. However, Chomusuke picked that moment to pop out of the top of Megumin’s robe and let out a “NYA~!” to punctuate her mistress’ theatrics.

Hearing the cry of the cat, Scabbers went into a fit and tried to crawl back down Ron’s robe, which caused him to swear and tip over the bucket of half eaten popcorn.

“What is this?! Snacks, in my classroom!?” Trewlawny pointed a long boney finger at Ron. “DOOM IS UPON YOU, YOUNG MAN!”

“I brought enough to share, Ron said, pulling out a second bucket. “And I dunno about you, but my inner eye only works when I’m full. Megumin’s the same way.”

“YES! Calling upon my inner eye consumes a great deal of energy! Ronald, as my boon companion, is tasked with ensuring my soul does not weaken from famishment!” Megumin decreed.

Lavender waved her wand, putting the popcorn back in the bucket and yanking it away form Ron. “As blessed Lady Aqua always says, ‘Don’t try to think when you’re hungry, you’ll just hurt yourself! Make sure you have a full stomach, and then put on your thinking cap!’”

“I do not think Professor Mizu is blessed with the Inner Eye,” Trelawney sniffed, snatching the bucket of popcorn. She sniffed it, then brightened. “Say, is there butter in this?” When Ron nodded, she shoveled a handful into her mouth. “Hmm. Very well! NOW! Normally, I start with the simpler practices, but I have foreseen this is an advanced class! We begin instead with the crystal balls…”

Megumin eagerly grabbed her ball, while Ron just took out a pen. When Trelawney frowned at him, Ron explained, “My inner oracle isn’t so hot, but as  Megumin’s boon companion, it’s my duty to write down her every prophecy so that the world will not be deprived of her deep knowledge.”

“Ah, it is well you recognize your own gifts, Mr. Weasley! Such a wise and humble beginning! Five points to Gryffindor!”

“You just want to skive off,” Kazuma hissed at Ron as he and Dust dug out their own balls.

“And you’re just jealous I thought of it first,” Ron whispered back, sticking out his tongue.

“Quite! I see something within the murky depths!” Megumin proclaimed, leaning back. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and a different voice came from her lips.

“Hi Onee-chan! Don’t worry, I have big plans! I’ll come see you real soon!”

“Huh,” Ron said, scratching his head, then shrugging. He wrote down the words anyway as Megumin’s head lolled to the side, her eyes vacant. “That’s odd.”

“Hmm, perhaps this is too advanced for you yet,” Trelawney said, frowning at Megumin.

“What…what’d I say?” Megumin asked groggily.

“Something about an Only chant? I dunno, but I wrote it down exactly,” Ron said, showing Megumin what he’d written.

“What!? That is a terrible prophecy!?” Megumin ripped the parchment up, then set her hands on the crystal ball. “Yes…yes, my inner eye speaks to me! I sense…I sense a dark and terrible power! The whole Earth quakes! The Queen of Darkness approaches this world, with legions of demons! Yes…yes… a most terrible fate awaits us all!”

“Ah, better!” Trewlawney said, brightening considerably despite the fact that Megumin was repeating herself. “Continue, Mr. Weasley. Attend to this Seeress’ ever word!”

Ron grunted the affirmative, secure in the knowledge that Megumin was his ticket to an easy O for the next four years.

Later, he’d wish he’d actually been paying attention when things really started to get weird.

Second archon war: Sapientia Oromasdis 3

Sapientia Oromasdis 3: Sending out Roots

Not long after the deadly swarm of demonic butterflies took flight, cars arrived, open to the air, bearing men in red hats with sunglasses and clothing like that of hunters. By their bearing and the shadow of violence that followed them, Nahida knew them to be soldiers of some kind, though bullies would perhaps be a better description. They didn’t bear swords, axes, or spears, but instead had those same weapons that appeared to function as crossbows did, only the bolts they threw were no larger than Nahida’s thumb. Still, the bolts were fired with such force that they could easily slay.

Well, at least if you did not try to use them against a demon.

Farasha sat nearby, watching Nahida and Qiqi as they huddled together on the side of the now deserted street. The food carts had either been hauled away or abandoned, the shop door closed, the stalls shuttered and the owners vanished. With the swarm of butterflies fluttering overhead, Nahida couldn’t blame them.

“What now, Farasha?” the first soldier demanded. By the elaborate insignia and gold braiding on his uniform, Nahida guessed him to be an officer. His weapon was smaller and holstered at his side, unlike the larger weapons his men carried that were larger and more powerful looking.

“A robbery, major. Dead shopkeeper,” Farasha said, pointing to the shroud covered body and bloodstain in the shop the men had robbed. Nahida hadn’t been able to save him, despite hurrying over. The poor man’s spirit was already departed, and while she could heal nearly any wound, she couldn’t raise the dead.

“Shit,” the officer muttered as his men went over to inspect the body, casting concerned looks up at the sky, bug ignoring Farasha and the girls. He looked over at Qiqi and Nahida, then very deliberately spat to the side. “That’s Saeed’s stray brat, isn’t it? The zombie?”

“That’s Doctor Bashir’s daughter, yes,” Farasha said, her tone cheery, but her eyes sparkling ominously. “And her name is Qiqi. Not zombie.”

“Hmph. And who’s the other one?” the Captain said, going over and prodding Nahida with his boot. “Who is she?”

“I’m Nahida,” she said nervously, trying to keep away from the boot toe.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, brat,” the captain said with a sneer. He moved his leg back as if to kick Nahida, but a glance at Farasha caused him to simply set it down. There was murder in her eyes, and two butterflies slowly circling around her head.

“Manners, Waleed. Those little girls are worth ten of you, and each of them could tear you apart with their pinky fingers,” Farasha said, wiggling her little finger demonstratively.

Nahida wasn’t sure about Qiqi, though she suspected that to be true. She certainly could tear apart a man in theory, though she had never willingly used violence on any living creature. Once, about 440 years ago, the Grand Sage had attempted to “study the Archon’s combat potential.” They had brought in all sorts of dangerous creatures, from Geo Vishaps from Liyue, to Consecrated Beasts in the desert. They had all been terrifying at first, with Nahida frantically running away from them.

However, with a little time and thought, she’d managed to communicate with the monsters. With a little soothing and kindness, even the most vicious of the beasts had let Nahida pet them, and even ride them in some cases. The sages had been furious at her for ruining the experiment, though one Spantamad researcher pointed out that Nahida had demonstrated her combat ability, just in an unorthodox manner. Thankfully, they’d stopped trying to get her to do violence, though Nahida did miss having animals to play with after the sages took them away.

“Please. As if I have anything to fear from them. You’re all dogs on a leash, even if you’re a mouthy bitch,” Major Waleed said with a sneer.

His bravado rapidly evaporated when one of the butterflies circling around Farasha’s head suddenly veered toward him, slowly fluttering through the air in his direction. He swore and ducked, scrambling away as his men nervously lowered their rifles at Farasha and backed away themselves.

“Put those away, boys. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourselves,” Farasha said with a snort. She walked over, taking Nahida and Qiqi by the hand. “Come along, ladies. I’m taking your jeep, Hasaan. You can walk. We’re going to Squad headquarters. Nahida needs to be registered.”

The Major looked like he wanted to argue, but he was still backing away from Farasha’s butterfly as fast as he could. “Fine! Get out of my sight! I’ll clean up your mess as usual.”

“Prick,” Farasha said under her breath, which probably meant that if Nahida had normal hearing she couldn’t have heard the word. Then Farasha was all smiles. “Looks like we get to go for a car ride! You like car rides, don’t you, Qiqi?”

“Daddy,” Qiqi said, her eyes still red and full of tears. “Want doctor daddy.”

“Later, my sweet,” Farasha promised. “If you’re good, I’ll buy you both a treat.”

Qiqi looked uncertain, but she asked, “Cocogoat?”

“I’ll buy you every coconut in the city if you want,” Farasha promised, picking Qiqi up and setting her in the back seat of the jeep, then doing the same for Nahida. Farasha climbed into the back, setting Qiqi on her lap. “Of course they took out the seat belts. Maniacs. No sense of safety.”

The driver up front was cringing, with sweat breaking out on his forehead, but he cleared his throat and asked, “Where to, Miss Farasha?”

“Headquarters. Nahida’s a new member. Say hello to Corporal Mohammad, Nahida.”

“Hello,” Nahida said, giving a nervous wave. Unlike the other soldiers who were all young men, this man was older, with grey in his beard, and no red beret. There were different logos on his uniform, which Nahida took to mean he was in a different unit, or was a servant of some kind to the soldiers.

“Hello, Nahida. Let me be the second to welcome you to the Special Action Squad,” Mohammad said, pushing some pedals with his feet, then turning the wheel on the “jeep” to put it into motion. Behind them, Major Waleed glared at them from behind his dark glasses, and the cloud of butterflies wheeled about, following them as they sped off down the road.

If Nahida hadn’t been so frightened and worried, she would have found the ride thrilling. This was much faster than a horse-drawn carriage could go, and was rather exciting and fun. Instead, she just felt sick at knowing she had seen four men die today, and that Farasha, bright, cheery Farasha, was a monster.

The city they rode through was now deserted, with frightened eyes peering at the jeep and up at the sky of butterflies from behind curtains and shutters. Cars rapidly pulled over, the drivers cowering behind the wheel and passengers hiding under their seats if they could. Nahida began to understand just what sort of city this was. One ruled through strength and terror. No wonder the dreams of the populace were so troubled.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Farasha said, stroking Qiqi’s head as they bounced along.

Nahida looked at Farasha, her own expression mournful. “Many things are sad. To what do you refer?”

“My butterflies.” Farasha looked up at the swarm above their heads, a bitter smile on her lips. “As a little girl, I loved butterflies. I used to collect them. Cruel, now that I think back on it, but I loved catching them in my nets, looking them up in my father’s library, and putting my best specimens on display. I did the same with other insects, but I had a special love for butterflies. We had a garden, where I would grow flowers with my mother, just to attract them.”

Nahida looked up at the swarm, the lowest butterflies trailing bright drops of red flame as they fluttered along, keeping pace with them despite how fast they were moving. “There is a certain beauty to death. It is a part of the natural cycle. But these… Do you find them natural, Farasha?”

“Natural? Nahida, we’re capes. There isn’t anything more unnatural than us,” Farasha said with a dark laugh and a shake of her head. “What we do… Well, I don’t think it’s a crime against Allah, because I don’t believe in a God that would curse anyone so, but they’re certainly a crime against nature.”

“What would Doctor Bashir think to hear you say such things, Farasha?” Corporal Muhammad said from the front seat, though he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“He’s not here, is he? And it’s not like Qiqi will tell,” Farasha said, gently brushing a bit of hair back under Qiqi’s shawl.

“No tell,” Qiqi said softly.

Farasha looked to Nahida. “Would you tell, Nahida?”

“I would like to meet Allah,” Nahida said, looking back up at the butterflies. “And ask him… many things.”

“Wouldn’t we all, kid. Wouldn’t we all,” Farasha said with another humorless chuckle. Then she brightened as they pulled up to a gate with soldiers around it, with a tall concrete fence with cruel looking wire atop it. There was a sign with the words ‘Special Action Squad National Headquarters’ on it, and that same flag symbol that Farasha wore on a pin. “We’re here. At least we can get part of this sorted out.”

The guards at the gate hastily opened it as the jeep approached, trying to get out of their way as fast as they could as Corporal Mohammad slowed to drive over the humps in the path.

“Stop,” Farasha commanded, moving Qiqi from her lap and standing up. She glared at the soldiers, who cowered before her. “You call this doing your jobs?! You’re supposed to check our ID and confirm we belong! What if one of us was a Changer or something?”

“F-forgiveness, Lady Farasha,” one of the soldiers said, and extended a trembling hand. “Your ID cards, please.”

“I forgot mine,” Farasha said airly, folding her arms over her chest. “And Qiqi’s. Nahida doesn’t have one.”

“Here is mine,” Mohammad said, handing over some papers. “And Qiqi’s and Farasha’s. Nahida indeed does not yet have one.”

The soldier accepted the papers and glanced at them, then looked up nervously. “This… seems to be in order?”

“Call HQ and tell them you’re admitting an unidentified parahuman,” Farasha ordered. “That’s basic procedure! Don’t you remember?”

“Y-yes, of course, Lady Farasha, it’s just that, we recognize you, and the last time we asked for your ID-”

“Oh for—! Fine! Muhammad, just drive us to HQ. Idiots,” Farasha muttered, once more in a foul mood. The soldier handed the papers back and got out of the way as fast as he could, and Mohammad drove at a much slower pace into the base.

The buildings around them were made of the same sunbaked brick that most of the city was, with flag poles that bore giant banners hanging limply on the flagpoles. There was a large fountain that tinkled merrily, though the water didn’t look terribly clean to Nahida. Signs on the buildings labeled them as barracks, mess hall, armory, mosque, and Headquarters. The sort of places Nahida supposed you would find in a military base. She had read a few treatises on military matters over the years, but she’d never found them very interesting or important. Still, it was something to read, and in 500 years Nahida had read papers on basically every topic in the Akademiya, which was essentially everything.

There were soldiers about, some on guard, others hastily making their way between buildings. A few people not in uniform, but rather very odd looking clothes walked about as well, some of them looking up nervously at the butterfly filled sky, others studiously ignoring them. Some of these nodded or waved to Farasha, and she waved back enthusiastically, calling greetings to them.

“Vision holders,” Nahida murmured but frowned. Most of them had demons of varying levels of strength, though none were nearly as powerful as Farasha’s. But there were half a dozen vision holders as well. Two electro, and four anemo she could sense. “Is there some sort of shift schedule? Do you only have anemo and electro vision holders on duty?”

Farasha blinked at Nahida. “We do take things in shifts, but I’m not really sure what you mean. I saw Naveed and Daina, so their group is on shift, but there are only the electric and wind visions, or Electro and Anemo as Bashir calls them. Well, and I guess yours. What did you call it again?”

“Dendro,” Nahida said, frowning. She couldn’t sense any major sources of Dendro around them at all, not even in the barracks. There was plenty of anemo and electro, a lot of things seemed to run on electro including the jeep, but where were the cryo, pyro, or geo? There were plenty of natural sources, but no actual elemental energy.

“Right. Well, that one’s new. I won’t let them bug you about it too much. But we’ll need a rough description of what you can do. Maybe we’ll work that out later,” Farasha said as the jeep came to a stop in front of the largest building, the main Headquarters. She hopped out, then turned to lift Qiqi down and give Nahida a hand. “Thanks, Corporal. If Hasaan gives you shit, you let me know. Little punk.”

“Of course, ma’am. Will you be needing anything else?” the corporal asked with a gentle smile as the jeep idled, its engine rumbling softly.

“Nah. If I decide we need a ride home I’ll give a shout though. Toodaloo!” Farasha waved cheerily, taking Qiqi’s hand and waving it back and forth, while Nahida waved goodbye despite the dread in the pit of her stomach.

“Well, come on, I promise they won’t bite!” Farasha said, smiling down at Nahida and offering her a hand.

Despite her trepidation, she took Farasha’s hand. She didn’t feel evil. The stench of death on Farasha was stronger than ever, and the evil radiating from the demon attached to her soul was incredibly vile. But beneath that…she was just Farasha. A kind young woman who had a fierce independent streak and a dream of freedom and love.

Besides, Nahida had always dreamed of having someone who would unconditionally extend their hand to her. Not a mother, Nahida didn’t need mothering, but a Big Sister? She’d always wanted a big sister. And a little sister too. Nahida smiled at Qiqi, who was shivering and clinging to Farasha’s leg as she looked at the building.

“Go home. Want Daddy,” Qiqi mumbled.

“It’s OK, Qiqi,” Nahida said, letting go of Farasha’s hand and taking Qiqi’s icy fingers. “We’ll be brave together.”

Qiqi didn’t seem certain about that, but she let Farasha and Nahida lead her up the stairs into the Headquarters building.

Inside, Nahida sensed that the building was richly appointed and full of displays of wealth, with expensive furnishing, stone floors, fancy paintings, and water-hungry plants. A male secretary was standing behind a counter, and there were guards everywhere. Some of them were soldiers, but there was also a man with a demon and a woman with an Anemo Vision. They weren’t wearing standard uniforms, but the sort of customized outfits favored of VIsion Holders.

In this case, the man wore a variety of heavy metal arm bangs and arm rings, most of them silver and gold with ornate jewels, and wore a vest that showed off his impressive musculature, along with baggy pants and pointed shoes. The Demon that Nahida sensed had something to do with metal, though she wasn’t sure how and did not like to brush up against the demons.

The woman on the other hand made Nahida gasp in delight to see her clothing. She was dressed with a pale green silk veil that hung from an elaborate crown that was inset with the green gem of her vision, while her outfit was a colorful and wonderfully embroidered dress that came down to her ankles, with golden sandals on her feet. Upon seeing Farasha and the two girls, the woman broke into a smile and hurried over, kneeling down in front of them and spreading her arms wide.

“Farasha! It’s lovely to see you again! And little Miss Qiqi! You remember me, don’t you?”

“Qiqi…forgot,” Qiqi said, half hiding behind Nahida. The woman’s face fell for a moment, but she quickly recovered, pulling both Nahida and Qiqi into a hug.

“Well, then let me remind you! I’m your Auntie Faruzan! And you’re both just absolutely adorable! What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Nahida. I like your dress. Did you make it?” Nahida of course knew the answer: the dress did not have the feel of something made in a factory. It had been hand sewn, and by the Anemo that had gone into it, this woman had to be the one to have made it.

“Why yes I did!” Faruzan grinned, standing up and spreading her skirt, twirling to show the loving details. “ I based it off of a historic dress of Maryam, also known as Maria of Byzantine! She was the consort of Khosrow II, the greatest king of the Sassanid Empire!”

“Really?!” Nahida’s eyes lit up at the mention of ancient histories. She loved reading primary sources, especially about ancient Sumeru and the deeds of Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Granted, Nahida was old enough that a lot of people would consider her ancient history, but she knew very little of the history of Iran. “Do you have any books with illustrations of historic fashions? Farasha wants to take me shopping, but I don’t have a solid grounding on the cultural trends that would inform modern-day clothing choices.”

At first, Faruzan looked rather startled at this flood of words coming out of what looked like a little girl, but as soon as Nahid mentioned “historic fashions” her face split into a wide grin.

“Farasha, she’s darling!” Faruzan squealed, wrapping Nahida in another hug and picking her up to grin at Farasha. “Oh, you have to let me borrow her sometime! Is she a cape!? I could design her costume! She’d look wonderful in a period costume from the Rashidun Caliphate!”

“You’ll have to talk to Saeed,” Farasha said with amusement. “He’s her guardian.”

“Oh, please Farasha?!” Nahida begged. She turned to Faruzan. “Do you have any primary sources!? No one has taken me to the library yet, and I long to get my hands on some good primary sources!”

“My darling, I have an illuminated manuscript from the court of Nusrat al-Din Ahmad that has some wonderful illustrations of period clothing in it, some of it going all the way back to the Umayyad Dynasty! I found it at this tiny little bookseller’s while doing research at the University of Cairo, where I was getting my doctorate! I got it for a song, but it’s such a treasure!”

Nahida let out a delighted gasp at this at this incredible find, balling up her fists as her mind raced. A real primary source! She could look up plenty of historic fashion trends, as well as get a feel for the dreams of this people for a thousand years! This was the best news she’d had in ages!

“Oh great, another nerd,” Farasha laughed. She bent over to loudly whisper in Qiqi’s ear, “Don’t worry, Qiqi. I won’t you turn into a dusty old maid.”

“Old maid? Old maid?!” Faruzan glared at Farasha in outrage. “Darling, I am neither old, NOR dusty! I’m not even thirty yet! You’re only a few years younger than me!”

“She doesn’t even have a boyfriend, poor thing. She spends all her time reading books,” Farasha continued, giggling as Faruzan sniffed indignantly and turned around with Nahida still in her arms.

“Don’t listen to that uncultured barbarian. I swear, you’d think Saeed would convince her to broaden her horizons. He went to Oxford, you know. Completed his residency in Family Medicine and took several courses in Parahuman Biology. He’s published papers! He’s very well respected.”

“Oh? You looking to court him?” Farasha asked, her tone casual, but her body suddenly tense.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s too young for me,” Faruzan sniffed. Then she grinned mischievously and leaned in close to Nahida and whispered, “She’s terribly in love with him, you know. She really should just-”

“That’s enough, Faruzan,” Farasha snapped, taking Nahida away and setting her back on the ground. “We have to get Nahida registered, that's why we came.”

“Oh!” Faruzan gave Nahida a piteous look. “Poor dear. Well, new clothes always make me feel a little better…even if they won’t bring back my husband.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you dream of him often,” Nahida said, waving to Faruzan as they made their way to the front counter. Faruzan blinked away tears, and smiled at Nahida, before returning to her post.

At the counter, the man on duty gave Farasha a nervous smile. “Ah, welcome back. Are you going on duty today? We saw the butterflies…”

“No, Abbas. I’m here to register a new friend!” Farasha picked up Nahida, setting her on the counter to both her and Abbas’s shock. “Meet Nahida! Isn’t she precious?”

“Um, hello,” Nahida said, extending a hand and giving Abbas a shy smile. He looked at her hand like it was a snake, but a glance at Farasha had him gingerly take it and pump Nahida’s hand once.

“Ah, hello. Well, I suppose we can get the paperwork filled out. Normally I would need the signature of a male guardian, but, uh, I suppose we can make an exception…”

“I’m her co-guardian with Doctor Bashir Saeed,” Farasha said in chipper tones, though there was an edge and a threat to it.

“W-well, um, you’re an unattached woman, so, uh…” Abbas swallowed nervously, then hastily pulled out a paper form. “I’ll just put you down as co-guardian…”

“You’d best,” Farasha said. “I’m going to take the girls to my office for snacks. I’ll take that with me and fill it out.”

“Right. Uh, I’ll send someone to process it,” Abbas agreed hastily, looking like he wanted to be anywhere that didn’t have Farasha there.

They made their way up a flight of stairs to an office in the back corner. It should have been small and obscure, but the interior decoration was garishly lavish, and there was a window that looked out onto the courtyard below. A window that Nahida’s knowledge of architecture told her had been put as a patch over what seemed to have been a whole burned into the wall.

The desk was a carved hunk of old wood that looked like it had barely fit through the door, while rich carpets were on the floor. There was also a refrigerator in the corner, from which Farasha pulled a few containers of food, which she examined with a frown. “Huh. Guess it’s been a while since I was here. It’s all expired. Ah well, I should have some snacks in my desk.”

These turned out to be packets of sweet crunchy cookies, which Nahida found tasteless for some reason, though Qiqi munched on them happily enough. They just tasted…fake. As if they had been made by machines, not human hands, robbing them of much of the dendro energy they should have contained.

“Hmm, let’s get this filled out then. Height…”

“112.3 cm,” Nahida supplied, coming over to peer at the paper. “Weight is 17.9 kg.”

Farasha blinked, then pushed the paper and pen towards Nahida. “Can you fill this out?”

“Of course,” Nahida agreed, taking the pen and clicking it three times, just because that was rather fun. A pen that clicked! She needed a dozen of these! And paper to write on, but later. She easily filled out her basic information, though she felt very guilty writing “5” for her age. Technically, she was five. Just, five centuries.

The other questions were harder. She tapped the pen on her chin, frowning at the questions relating to her parentage, ethnicity, and political and religious allegiance.

“Just put Saeed Bashir as your guardian. Say you’re Arab. It’s easier if it’s that, even if you’re actually Turkish or Kurdish,” Farasha advised.

“I’m not, though,” Nahida said, glancing worriedly up at Farasha. “I… don’t really know how you’d categorize my ethnicity.” Mostly because she was decidedly inhuman. But “Branch of Irminsul” wasn’t something they’d be likely to recognize.

“Here, I’ll write it then,” Farasha said, and filled out that information with handwriting that was much less neat and fluid than Nahida’s, though it was far from bad. “There.”

Nahida still felt guilty, as this was basically lying on an official document, but the truth seemed a poor choice to let spill at this moment. Then it was on to her powers. She wrote down “Dendro Vision Holder”, then frowned at the paper.

“I get what a Vision is, Faruzan isn’t the only one we have, but what’s this Dendro stuff? You mentioned it being life energy or something. What’s that mean?” Farasha inquired, frowning at the paper.

“It’s the primal energy of life, produced by all living things,” Nahida said, tapping the pen on her chin. “Hmm, I can put Chlorokenisis, and soil fertilization…”

“Chloro-what?” Farasha asked, frowning as Nahida neatly wrote it out.

“I can manipulate plant life,” Nahida explained. She looked around, but there were no plants in here. However, there were those moldy bits of old snacks. She dug one cup of fruit out of the trash, placing it on the desk and earning a frown from Farasha.

“Like this,” Nahida explained, and gently, slowly, called to the embers of life within the fruit. There were some seeds there, of a type of plant she wasn’t familiar with. It was a bit of a waste to make a plant grow so rapidly, it was unnatural and would make it reliant on direct dendro infusions, but she grew a small sprout, then a shoot, and finally a branch, which produced a bright reddish fruit with a thick rind. She plunked it, then held it up to the gawking Farasha. “See?”

“Well goddamn, kid. That’s impressive.” Farasha rubbed her chin, frowning. “I dunno though. You’re pretty young. And this is the sort of thing that attracts attention.”

“Well, I can do some other things,” Nahida hedged, fidgeting in her seat, her legs kicking the air. Unlike Bashir’s chairs, these were all sized for grownups, and not for children at all.

“Like?” Farasha prompted.

“Well, I can manipulate dreams…” Nahida said.

“No,” Farasha said bluntly. “Absolutely not.”

“Is… is that bad?” Nahida asked, wilting at Farasha’s dark gaze.

Immediately, Farasha brightened and gave Nahida a gentle smile. “No, it’s just… if the Mukhabarat found out you could do that… yeah. Let’s go with chlorokinesis. And if they ask, say you can just grow flowers and fruits and stuff.”

“I can heal too,” Nahida offered.

“Perfect! Even more reason to have you with Bashir. You can heal minor wounds,” Farasha said, scribbling down Nahida’s powers with a brief description.

“Actually, I can-” Nahida began, but Farasha raised her hand.

“Minor wounds, Nahida. When you’re older, you can put out the cool powers. For now, nothing that’d get you called up to active duty or put in a warzone. Trust me. I’ve helped fill out enough of these. Qiqi, for example, can make things slightly cold. Not freeze entire buildings. Right, Qiqi?”

“Qiqi good. No cold,” Qiqi said, looking up from the bag of now mostly eaten cookies and spraying crumbs everywhere. Her entire front was coated, and her cheeks puffed out like a squirrels.

“Exactly. I had to lie my ass off to get them to believe she didn’t… never mind. Anyway, no one really cared if I said I killed another bunch of assholes, but they would have really cared if they knew Qiqi could. So you’re just a harmless little gardener who can heal cuts and scrapes,” Farasha sternly, pointing her pen at Nahida. “Got it?”

Nahida nodded, feeling both frightened and worried. “I… I would never use my powers to hurt someone else. Honest!”

“And I hope you never have to. But, we’ll do some private lessons so you learn to defend yourself. I can’t be around all the time, and, well, you’re a lot more with it than Qiqi is.” Farasha gave Qiqi a pained smile, which Qiqi was oblivious to as she examined the now-empty bag for more cookies.

“All gone.”

“It’s OK, sweetie. We’re going home after this. Bashir will be having a cow. I’m shocked he hasn’t called a thousand times when he saw the butterflies,” Farasha said with a sigh.

There was a knock at the door, then the door opened before Farasha could respond to it. Severa menl in military uniforms, subtly different from the ones Nahida had seen so far with black berets, strode into the room, frowning at everything, but especially the three women within. They were followed by an older man with dark hair and a thick mustache in a grey suit with a silk tie and expensive-looking shoes.

“Ah! My favorite parahuman! Farasha, God smiles upon you this day!” the man in a suit said, spreading his arms wide, a wide smile on his face.

Do not trust him.

The thought was instant. Nahida recognized this type of man instantly. His aura reeked of paranoia, narcissism, and violence.

“Uncle Hussein!” Farasha said, jumping up and coming over to give the man a hug. She was as bright and chipper as ever, but the scorn she hid was as plain as day to Nahida. “I have good news!  A new type of Parahuman! A Dendro Vision holder!”

“Truly?” Hussein said, turning to Nahida and smiling at her. His eyes were weighing her like she was a duck for sale at the market. “Well, what can she do?”

“Um, I can grow fruit,” Nahida said, pointing to the cup with the small tree sprouting from it.

“Oh? Show me,” the man demanded, coming over and putting a possessive hand on Nahida’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

Nahida felt tears come into her eyes, and she looked desperately to Farasha, who nodded and smiled encouragingly. “Go on, Nahida. Show Uncle Saddam how wonderful you are.”

Reaching out, Nahida touched the plant, funneling more Dendor into it. It grew even taller, which made Nahida want to weep even more as she doomed it: this much forced growth would kill it in less than ten years, when it should have lived for centuries. A flower budded then produced a fruit after only a minute, and Nahida hastily plucked it, offering it to Hussein.

“Hmm. Can she do it on a large scale?” Hussein asked, his eyes cold, calculating.

Do not tell him. His greed will destroy.

Thankfully, Farasha answered breezily, “She’s too young, this probably exhausted her, look at how she’s trembling.. She runs out of juice too fast. She can do some neat party tricks, but not too quickly in succession. It’s pretty neat though, right? And she’s the first Dendro Vision Holder! Quite the feather in your cap!”

“Ah, a pity. But, yes. Something new, you say? We’ll do a news piece on her. Make sure she’s dressed properly for it. Tomorrow,” Hussein ordered.

“Of course, uncle! Maybe she can grow some flowers,” Farasha said with a dazzling smile and nod.

“Good. Now, we must talk. Ali! Get the children out of here,” Hussein barked.

Faruzan appeared in the doorway, flushed and breathless. “Your Excellency! I will gladly take the girls!”

“Who said you could speak, woman?” one of the bodyguards barked, glaring at Faruzan, who shrank back.

“It’s fine; it’s woman’s work, and Faruzan is a loyal servant of Iraq, are you not?” Hussein said, not even turning around to look at her.

“Of course, thank you, sir!” Faruzan said, desperately making motions to Nahida and Qiqi. Nahida grabbed Qiqi’s hand, and hastily dragged her from the room, leaving a trail of crumbs. The door was slammed shut behind them, making Nahida squeak in shock.

“Hurry, little ones,” Faruzan whispered, shepherding them rapidly down the hall. “You don’t want to attract the President’s attention.”

They ended up in a scrambled little cubicle, where Nahida had a wonderful time as Faruzan shared a biography of Ibn Malik she was working on. It was stored in this wondrous box powered by electro, and connected to a network much like the Akasha, but Nahida absolutely devoured the writings, asking eager questions about the places and people mentioned in it, which Faruzan happily answered.

For her part, Qiqi curled up in Faruzan’s lap and went to sleep, sucking her thumb as she snored. Nahida soothed away Qiqi’s nightmares absently, warding her dreams from the demon. It was simple enough to do that and read and chat at the same time, Nahida standing up in the chair as she read, so excited was she at the new knowledge.

She had read only for about half an hour before a stormy Farasha swept in, glancing at Qiqi as Faruzan stroked her hair. “Well, I kept him happy for now. Come on, you two. Time to go home. I think that’s enough adventures for today.”

“Does that mean we won’t go to the library today?” Nahida asked in disappointment.

“Later, kiddo. Not today,” Farasha said, looking and sounding exhausted, but giving Nahida a smile regardless. “Come on. Muhammad will drive us home.”

Qiqi woke up before they got to the jeep, blinking owlishly, then simply snuggling up to Farasha as she was carried down to the jeep. “Qiqi daddy now?”

“Daddy now,” Farasha agreed. “Come on.”

It wasn’t long to get home, though there was more traffic now. The swarm of butterflies had vanished from overhead, something Nahida was very grateful for. They went back into the clinic, where Bashir hastily finished up with his patient, a husband and his pregnant wife. They gave Farasha nervous glances, but she just smiled at the couple. “Congratulations! Boy or girl?”

“Girl,” the husband said curtly, and the wife looked away, pain on her face. “Come.”

Farasha smiled until they left, then turned to Bashir as he hurried over. She gasped in shock as he took her face in his hands. “Are you well? What happened? I saw, I was worried, but I knew you had it. I just… are you alright?”

“Fine. I took more damage seeing Our Glorious Leader than I did fighting off those poor saps,” Farasha said, giving Bashir a cheeky smile. “Nahida’s all registered now.”

“Praise be to Allah,” Bashir sighed, and this time, he sounded like he meant it. He knelt, giving Qiqi a hug, which was returned with some fervor, prompting a start from him. “Qiqi? Are you alright?”

“Daddy,” Qiqi said happily.

Bashir started, then his eyes misted over. “Yes. Daddy. Very good, Qiqi.”

“Qiqi hungry. Cocogoat?”

“Oof, sorry kid. I’ll get you a coconut tomorrow,” Farasha promised, wincing slightly.

“Cocogoat,” Qiqi said mournfully.

Then Bashir turned to Nahida. “And you? Are you well?”

“Oh yes. I met Faruzan! She showed me the biography she’s working on. I need to study Arabic grammar more, it’s quite fascinating!” Nahida said excitedly.

That earned her a start from Bashir, then a chuckle. “Well, aren’t you the little sage?”

Nahida flinched at the world, but tried to hide it. That wasn’t a word that conjured pleasant memories for her.

“Why don’t you and Qiqi go play,” Bashir urged, and Nahida took Qiqi’s hand to lead her outside.

As she did so though, she listened into the conversation behind her. Her hearing was magnitudes better than human normal, plus she could simply sense the minds and spirits and listen in on those even more easily.

“They met the President? Did he-”

“Doesn’t suspect a thing. Thinks Nahida can do party tricks, and Qiqi can make ice cubes. He was just pissed I scared everyone by mercing those assholes that shot up a shop.”

“Farasha…”

“Don’t start. I’m not in the mood.”

“It’s just, I worry about you. Not your strength, just… I know the toll your powers take on you.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Will you stay for dinner? At least let me cook for you.”

“Oh, your parents would love that. Their son, cooking for a woman.”

“They don’t have to know. Will you?”

“If you let me spend the night.”

“You know I can’t do that. Not unless you agree to my proposal.”

“No. Not happening. You know that.”

“You don’t need to-”

“No, Saeed! I’ll spend the night. It’d be good for both of us. But not that. Don’t ask me for that.”

“I can’t, Farasha.”

“Why not!? I could use a good-”

Nahida stopped listening then, even as she kicked a ball to Qiqi, who let it bounce off her foot.

So, Farasha was in love with Bashir, and he with her. He seemed to wish to marry her, while she, ah, well, wished to be close to him, but not marry him. Strange. Most humans in love with one another would wed. They were clearly fond of one another and wanted to spend time together, and Nahida thought they would be a wonderful couple. But something deeper was going on.

Adult relationships were complex, and it was one aspect of life Nahida had no experience nor understanding of. She got the basics, but as both a god and a child-like one at that, she had no capacity for romance at all. Still, she did yearn for companionship, and more than that, a family.

“Will you be my friend, Qiqi?” Nahida asked, picking up the ball and smiling hesitantly at Qiqi.

Qiqi blinked at her in response.

Nahida sighed. “I suppose it’s too much to ask for a sister, much less a friend…it’s just playing house for me, anyway.”

“Sister,” Qiqi echoed. “Qiqi…sister?”

Nahida’s heart skipped a beat, and she grinned. “Yes! Come on, we can play house together! I’ve always wanted to play house with a sister!”

Farasha left not long after, waving goodbye to the girls cheerily despite the anguish in her heart. Nahida gave her a hug, but couldn’t bring herself to do more. After that, playing house felt like a sham, but Qiqi needed to be properly socialized, so Nahida went along with it. It was kind of fun, even with the dark cloud over her head.

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Bashir serving up a tasty enough meal, but seeming worried and withdrawn. Nahida made a little small talk, but she wasn’t sure how to handle this situation, and lapsed into simply enjoying food.

That night, Nahida slept in Qiqi’s bed again, the two of them embracing one another as they dreamed together of a house, where they were the two sisters, Bashir was the papa, Farasha was the mama, and Faruzan was the grandma.

And from those dreams, a seed sprouted. As the night went on, a small shoot grew, then took shape. With the sound of tinkling bells, a small plant drew itself up out of Nahida’s dream. It gazed down at her, then at its little hands.

“Dreams,” the little plant said. “Good dreams, for good nara.”

Then the plant bowed to Nahida, and with a jingling sound, walked to the edge of the bed to hop off. It made its way down the hall, then out into the garden, where it planted itself in the rich soil.

And the first of the Aranara took root on the banks of the Tigris River.

PHILO: The Seeds Take Root. DUNDUNDUN!

Last Drop of Hope Chapter 21

Beta’d and edited by the Grand Cogitator and Dr_Feelgood

When she had been a little girl, Iris’ father had taken her out to open fields, and showed her the great planet hanging in the sky.

“That is Belzerg. It is who we are. And where we must return one day, to free the people,” her father had said, his beard tickling Iris’ cheek as they looked up at the world neither of them had ever set foot on. In her memory, she could see her father’s reddish blonde beard, but she could not hear his voice, nor see his face. They were indistinct, muted, her memory faded and damaged.

But she recalled looking up at the smudged skies and lifeless gray seas, and Iris shivered in the cool night air. There had been the scent of eris blossoms on the wind. “It looks so…dead…”

“We don’t know much of what is happening there, our scrying spells struggle to cross such a vast distance,” her father said, shaking his head. “But it’s our home. Where so many of our people still live. Some day, we’ll be strong enough, and we will reconquer it. Perhaps it shall be you and your brother who do so.”

Iris had nodded solemnly, and applied herself daily to her studies in the way of the blade, the ways of war. There had been about 10,000 souls on the moon at that time, all of them training or working towards reconquering Belzerg one day.

Then, a few short years later, when she’d been only nine, the ships had arrived in the skies of Eris. They didn't know what they were at first. But they had quickly learned. Magic might have been dead on Belzerg, but they had other ways. Her father and brother had fought off no fewer than five invasions, slaughtering thousands of troops, and striking ships from the skies with powerful legendary items.

They had not fought off the sixth.

Even a Belzerg had their limits on the battlefield.

Kneeling down, Iris cupped some of the dead earth in her hands, lifting it up to look at it. As she gazed upon it, the soil trembled, and she whispered, “Grow.”

A tiny green shoot began to sprout, and Iris placed the plant back in the ground. She didn’t know if it would survive, but it seemed the land was already responding to her. She could well remember the Fertility Rites her father and mother had performed together. It had been about sex, yes, Iris wasn’t unaware of that aspect of fertility rites, but also about blessing the land and crops, as well as the herds and fields. Royal Mana was potent, and it along with the blessings of Eris had transformed what had once been a mostly lifeless barren desert of a moon into a verdant oasis in the void.

Iris would have to find a husband eventually. Now wasn’t the time, but if she survived, she’d need to be married by 16. While Kazuma would serve well enough as heir apparent for now, he was no Royal. There were certain ceremonies that could be performed to grant him that status in more than just words, but Iris didn’t recall them.

Besides, you needed a goddess for that, Iris was fairly sure. It wasn’t like she was simply going to bump into one of those.

“Hi! Are you Iris? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Iris turned, then blinked as a smiling blue haired woman strode towards her. Behind her came Darkness, along with three red eyed young women straight out of legend.

“Crimson Demons!?” Iris gasped, stepping around and past the blue haired woman to gawk at the girls.

“Yeah, what about it?” one, dressed in the garb of a Rune Knight, demanded, folding her arms over her chest and scowling at Iris.

The other, this one dressed in very traditional magic robes, flushed and posed. “BEHOLD! I AM YUNYUN! FOREMOST CHIEFTAIN OF THE CRIMSON DEMON CLAN, AND SHE WHO WILL RESTORE MY PEOPLE TO GLORY!”

“And I’m Komkekko! The cutest little sister of the Crimson Demon Clan!” the youngest declared, posing herself, her red eyes twinkling as she grinned. Atop her head perched a giant purple bird, who actually flexed his wings like they were muscles.

“What up! HOOST IS IN THE HIZZOUSE!”

His mistress giggled at her familiar’s antics, while the first girl to speak sighed as the other two girls looked at her expectantly. “Behold, I am Megumin, Foremost Badass of the Crimson Demon Clan, and she who will one day slay the CEOs.”

“And I am Iris Stylish Sword Belzerg, last of the House of Belzerg, rightful ruler of this realm,” Iris said, drawing her blade and saluting. She lowered the sword, then grinned. “I cannot believe it! I have heard legends of the Crimson Demon Clan, but to actually meet you in the flesh! Truly, it is an honor! Have you come to fight alongside me, as our ancestors did of old?!”

“Um, yes!” Yunyun said, blushing and smiling shyly. “Were…were our Introductions appropriate?”

That caught Iris off guard. “Well, they sounded like the stories my mother would tell me of the Crimson Demons, the greatest spellcasters in the world. Is it true you are marked by fate at birth?”

“You mean the bar codes?” Megumin asked.

“Yep! Mine’s on my belly button!” Komekko informed, puffing out her chest.

“Bar…code?” Iris frowned at that. “I am…uncertain as to what that is, but I am honored to have you fight at my side. We have need of great spell casters.”

“Do you really think you’re going to just take over this world?” Megumin asked, frowning at Iris. “I mean, you’d probably be better than the CEOs, but I don’t know if I really want to replace one bunch of assholes with a new one.”

“M-Megumin!” Yunyun gasped. “You can’t just say that!”

“A queen’s like a princess, right?” Komekko asked, frowning up at Iris. “Princesses are good guys! Plus, she’s pretty! I think we can trust her.”

“It is a fair question, Megumin,” Iris said with a weary shake of her head. “I am untested as a ruler, true. And, well…I do not know what sort of governance I could give to these lands, for I have never led. But I do know this: were I to rule, I would never allow such barbarity and desolation upon my lands and people.”

She nodded to the field behind her, where they were burying the dead. The Faitifore was still smoldering, even a full day later. But there were hundreds of bodies here. Men. Women. Children. And these “corpos” who seemed to be the same as those Iris had fought in space.

“I’m sorry. I was too late to save them,” a quiet voice said, and Iris turned to see the blue woman silently weeping as she looked at the burial details. “After more than eight hours or so, the spirit leaves the body, and passes on. I still haven’t sorted out the mess that is all the waiting souls, but…”

Iris blinked at that. “Resurrection? That is a very powerful spell. Only Lady Eris and her high priestess could cast it. Not even my father could manage it, for he was a Rune Knight, not a cleric.”

“You knew Eris?!” the blue woman forgot her tears, smiling as she spun to face Iris. “I just talked with her when I brought back Kazuma! She’s still alive! She was my kohai, you know! I recruited her, way back when she was just a mortal! She’s how I made Senior Goddess!”

“Goddess?” Iris gasped, and she found herself on her knees stunned. “But, then you…you are Aqua, Goddess of Water and Healing, Muse of the Arts!”

“Yep! And you’re Alice Blazing Axe Belzerg’s Great Great Great, uh, a lot of Grearts, Granddaughter!” Aqua said, smiling as she came over. “Come on, get up! We should be friends, you don’t have to kneel.”

Iris tried to rise, but found she was weeping. She buried her face in Aqua’s bosom and sobbed, clinging to her tightly. “Oh Goddess…where were you? We needed you so badly.”

Aqua stiffened, then reached up, stroking Iris’ head. “I’m sorry. I…I wasn’t strong enough. But I’m back now. And we’ll fix things. Together.”

“Yes,” Iris managed, wiping her very unqueenly tears from her cheeks and blowing her nose with the pocket handkerchief Yunyun pressed on her. “Yes. I begin to think perhaps we can win. When figures of legend take the field, nothing seems impossible anymore.”

“Does she mean us?” Komekko said in a very loud whisper to Megumin and Yunyun. “I think she means us.”

“I…I’m just happy to finally make friends,” Yunyun said, giving Iris a shy smile. “I-I always hoped there would be outsiders who didn’t hate us, but…”

“I swear this now, any who would attack the Crimson Demon Clan attack the Throne,” Iris declared, putting a hand to her heart. “By the right of my name and the power of my blood, I reaffirm the ancient friendship between the House of Belzerg and the Crimson Demon Clan.”

Beaming, Yunyun put her own hand over her heart. “A-and I reaffirm our friendship as well! We will tear down the corrupt corporate structure, and restore f-freedom to all people!”

“So mote it be,” Aqua said solemnly, and took both Iris and Yunyun’s hands, joining them together. There was the hum of magic in the air, and Iris could feel the oath settle upon her, like a comforting weight, and she shivered slightly.

Then Aqua grinned. “But we just won a battle! We should totally have a party!”

That took Iris aback. “A battle we have won, but there is yet a war to wage. We have the enemy at our doorstep: Hans the Poison Slime and his forces could attack at any moment. We must be ready to…”

Iris trailed off as Aqua started pouting and sniffling. She sighed heavily. “Perhaps…a small feast? Do we have the supplies for that?”

“I’ll make them!” Aqua said excitedly, popping up and displaying two paper fans as water squirted out of them. It looked like a party trick, but where the water fell, Iris could sense the land healing, and spotted small sprouts growing eagerly at the touch of mana.

“I wanna have a cake!” Komekko said eagerly, bouncing up to Iris with a wide grin on her face. “I’ve never had a cake before! Can we have a cake?!”

“We should be preparing our weapons and getting ready to launch an assault before the enemy suspects us,” Megumin said, scowling fiercely.

“No,” Iris said with a shake of her head. She gestured to the battlefield. “Our troops are wearied and bloodied. We must stall for time and rest as long as we can to gather our strength. There is also the matter of folding as many of the NyteTech forces into our own as we can. Many of them are willing to join our side, such as my aide, Claire. Ah, there she is now.”

Claire was approaching from the direction of the wrecked Faitifore, along with a much bedraggled Lan. Aqua and the Crimson Demons turned to face her, and Megumin let out a cry and drew her sword, while Komekko growled deep in her throat like an animal. Hoost let out a raucous cry and took off, hovering over his Mistress. The only ones who were not immediately hostile were Yunyun and Aqua, though Yunyun did shove the goddess behind herself and try to stare down Claire.

“Highness, there is little to salvage from the ship,” Claire said, bowing as she approached. “Was there something in particular you were looking for?”

“Hello there,” Megumin purred, stalking forward with her sword held at the ready. Now that Iris got a better look at it, she noticed that the sword was clearly a Sacred Treasure, one of the legendary weapons forged by the gods. She had once held such a treasure, the Stylish Sword itself, Caliber. Now, she had only her machete, which was but crude dark metal. She would need a suitable replacement, but Legendary treasures were hardly common.

Claire regarded Megumin coolly, then glanced at Iris. “Friends of yours, my Lady?”

“The Crimson Demons are staunch allies of the crown,” Iris said, stepping forward to put herself between the two groups. She gave the Crimson Demons a chilling look, then frowned at Claire. “As is Lady Symphonia. She is my sworn retainer. I would not have my friends fight. We have enough enemies in the world as it is.”

“She shot Yunyun!” Komekko said, pointing an accusatory finger at Claire. “She’s a pig!”

“I…was, Claire admitted, her expression softening. She bowed deeply, putting her hands to her heart. “I can only apologize. At the time…I was deceived. I knew in my heart it was wrong to hunt young girls simply for the color of their eyes…but you had killed four friends of mine. They were…well. They were not the noblest sorts, it’s true, but I will try not to hold their deaths against you.”

“Megumin…you should forgive her,” Aqua said quietly.

The young woman, actually, she looked like she was several years older than Iris, looked to the goddess, grimacing. Then she sighed and sheathed her sword. “If you’re on Aqua’s side, then I guess we can bury the hatchet. It’s a weird world when Crimson Demons and corpsec get along, but…”

“I am no longer a Corporate Security officer,” Claire said, straightening and puffing out her chest. “I now serve a true leader, one who gives justice and rules with virtue. I serve Queen Iris!”

“And the queen serves at the pleasure of the gods, and, well, it seems Lady Aqua is their representative now.” Iris turned towards Aqua, feeling thoughtful. “Actually, you mentioned a party. I can think of a good reason to have one, if you would agree.”

“I always agree to parties!” Aqua said brightly, pushing past the somewhat mollified Yunyun. “Why are we having this one?”

“To commemorate our victory over Beldia, but also, my coronation,” Iris said, tapping her chin. “We have not the royal jewels, nor the crown itself, but to be coronated by a goddess…there is meaning in such an act. And power. If I recall correctly, doing so will grant me the class of Monarch, one of the most powerful unique classes.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true! It’s settled, we’ll have a big party then!” Aqua said eagerly.

“Uh, no offense, Alice, but who the hell are these people?” Lan asked, looking around in confusion. “I get that the Crimson Demons are our buddies now, makes sense, but who’s the blue chick?”

“That is not how one speaks to her majesty!” Claire snapped, her eyes boring into Lan, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Claire, Lan is a personal friend of mine, who helped rescue me from the clutches of the Flesh Shaper. As my personal pilot, she has the right to speak frankly in front of me,” Iris said firmly. She smiled at Lan, taking her by the hand and bringing her forward. “This is Lady Aqua, the Goddess of Water and Healing. These are Megumin, Komekko, and Yunyun of the Crimson Demon Clan.”

“Uh, hi?” Lan said, looking uncomfortable. “I’m just an Ensign with ShopWiz, and I was the only one to make it off the Guild Hauler. C-Captain Luna, my boyfriend Morgan, a-and all my friends w-went…went down in…”

Even Claire’s expression softened as Lan tried desperately to hold it together, and clearly failed, breaking down in sobs. “T-there isn’t e-even anything f-from the ship to remember them by! T-there just gone, a-and I’m the only one…the only one…”

“I understand,” Iris said quietly, giving Lan a hug. “I too am the last of my people. We go on, for them.”

“I think that’s a story we all understand,” Megumin agreed, looking morose herself. “Our parents…the rest of the Crimson Demon Clan…they’re all…”

“That changes here, and now,” Iris said firmly, passing Lan over to Claire who gave the poor woman a handkerchief. “From now on, there will be no meaningless losses. We turn the war around, starting from this battlefield.”

She looked over at the Faitifore, and on impulse, strode across the field towards it, the others coming behind. When she reached the ship, Iris set a hand on the shattered hull. “Rest well, faithful steed. You carried us to freedom and gave hope back to the living. You will be remembered, along with those who laid down their lives, that we might stand here today.”

Lan started sobbing again, blowing into Claire’s tissue and moaning, “My baby girl!”

There were footsteps, and then Aqua was beside Iris, looking morose herself. She put a hand on the hull as well, closing her eyes. “It’s strange, it’s just a machine, but-”

“YOU SHUT YOUR-!” Lan shrieked, until Claire managed to shut her up.

“-but I was going to say she has a spirit!” Aqua said, turning over her shoulder to glare at Lan, who was crying again. Aqua turned back to the ship, frowning. “I dunno how to build one of these things or fix it, but, if it’s a royal mount…”

“She was,” Iris agreed, not sure where Aqua was going with this.

“Then she should get to keep being a mount!” Aqua suddenly stuck her hand into the metal hull, which was quite shocking, as there were no holes in this section, and the metal was rippling like water as she did so. Comically, Aqua actually closed her eyes and grunted, planting both feet against the hall and bracing herself against it as she strained. “Nnnngg! Come out!”

“...but I’m scared,” a soft voice said.

“Faitifore?!” Lan gasped, and rushed forward, grabbing Aqua’s back and heaving with all her might. “Hold on baby, I’m coming!”

“Lan?” the voice said again, and suddenly, Aqua and Lan flew backward into the mud and muck, a small girl flying right out of the ship as they did so. In fact, as the girl passed out of the metal hull, the ship shuddered and groaned, folding up suddenly and collapsing into the girl as she came out of the hull, until only a few bits of scouring on the ground and debris and remained, tumbling to the ground with a thud.

“What on Eris?” Iris breathed, then stepped forward as everyone crowded around Aqua, Lan, and the strange little girl.

“Ta da!” Aqua cried, jumping up and holding the girl over her head. She had silver hair and golden eyes, and looked to be about Komekko’s age. She was wearing a white smock, barefoot, and looked very confused. “Tee hee! You can praise me now, aren’t I amazing?”

“Aqua, what did you do this time?” Megumin groaned in exasperation. “Why is it every time I turn my back you do something dumb!?”

“Um,” the little girl said, then looked up towards the hole in the ceiling. “There, I think.”

“Faitifore?! Is it really you?!” Lan cried, jumping up and snatching the girl from Aqua to pull her into a tight hug.

“I think so,” Faitifore the Girl said, blinking owlishly. “I’m not sure. You’d just woken me up, and then I got hurt and went to sleep again, and now I’m little and have a body. I don’t really know what’s happening…”

“You turned the ship into a little girl,” Megumin said, giving Aqua a perplexed look. “That’s, uh, something…but why?”

“Not a little girl!” Aqua huffed. She waved her arms excitedly. “Faitifore, show them! You’re not just little!”

The girl looked down at herself. “...but I am.”

“You can get big though! You’re a mount, remember!” Aqua insisted.

Megumin smacked Aqua upside the back of her head. “People aren’t mounts, Aqua!”

Faitifore, however, had scrunched up her face. “Oh yeah. I remember now.”

Then everyone was knocked back as the little girl transformed into an enormous silver dragon.

SEE? The giant dragon rumbled. YOU CAN STILL FLY WITH ME, LAN!

“Megumin?” Yunyun said worriedly, her eyes wide as everyone picked themselves up off the ground.

“Y-yeah?” Megumin stammered, staring at the giant dragon.

“Maybe, uh, maybe you should give Aqua the benefit of the doubt next time you think she’s being dumb…”

For her part, Iris had jumped up, grinning with delight. “A real dragon! I have never seen one! Faitifore, you’re gorgeous!”

OH, THANK YOU, MY QUEEN, the dragon rumbled, blushing despite being a fifteen-meter behemoth. She lowered her head to be even with Iris, even resting on the ground her eyes were now nearly as tall as Iris was in power armor. I NEVER SAW A QUEEN BEFORE I MET YOU.

“I am glad you did not perish. We have lost too many friends,” Iris said, rubbing the frill on Faitifor’s head with her gauntlet, and earning a pleased rumble from the dragon.

I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I WAS ALIVE UNTIL LAN WOKE ME UP. IT WAS VERY STRANGE AT FIRST, BUT I LIKE BEING ALIVE. Suddenly, Faitifore’s nostrils flared and her pupils dilated, and she reared up on her hind legs again, her great wings beating once, though that was enough to send Hoost tumbling through the air and knock Komekko and Lan off their feet, while Aqua somehow ended up tumbling across the ground until she hit a bit of rubble with a thud.

WHERE’S MOMMY AND DADDY!? ARE THEY OK!? I REMEMBER THEY HAD TO LEAVE AND THEY WERE HURT! I COULDN’T PROTECT THEM! Faitifore roared, which was loud enough to be deafening.

“You mean…Dust and Rin?” Lan gasped, picking herself up. “They’re alive, but hurt. They’re in the hospital over there.”

DADDY! MOMMY! WHERE ARE YOU!? Faitifore roared again, lifting off with another flap of her wings and gliding across the cavern to where the hospital was.

Iris jogged over to Aqua and helped the goddess up, who mostly just seemed to be embarrassed and upset that she’d been flung away.

“Goddess, are you well?” Iris asked, helping the weeping goddess up.

“Y-yes. S-so rude!” Aqua huffed, scrubbing her eyes with her hands.

“She does not seem used to her new body, I am sure it was unintentional,” Iris offered consolingly.

“No! I should get to be her mommy,” Aqua harrumphed, folding her arms over her chest and pouting. “I’m the one who brought her to life!”

Iris decided that it would be impolite to point out that a goddess was behaving like a spoiled brat, and passed Aqua over to Megumin. Perhaps the young Crimson Demon did not simply have a chip on her shoulder. It seemed that Aqua was the sort who needed a minder.

Iris raced over to the hospital, where Darkness was sitting atop an abashed dragon, who appeared to have been put in a headlock by the former security officer.

“Your majesty!” Darkness gasped, looking up from her submission hold. How she’d gotten the giant dragon in a headlock, Iris had no idea. “Stay back, I have the beast contained!”

WAAAAAAA! The giant dragon wailed, sounding for all the world like an upset child as tears streamed down the scales of her muzzle. I-I JUST WANTED TO SEE MOMMY AND DADDY!

“Darkness, let her up, Faitifore didn’t mean any harm,” Iris sighed. She knelt by the dragon, which Darkness was very definitely not letting out of the submission hold. “Faitifore, your mommy and daddy are sick and resting. Can you be small again? If you’re very quiet, I can take you to meet them.”

Darkness let out a cry and fell to the ground with a splat as the giant dragon vanished, replaced by the little girl once more. “Y-You promise?”

“I promise,” Iris agreed, taking the now tiny hand in her gauntlet. “Come. Let’s see how they’re doing.”

They found Dust and Rin on their feet, looking concerned, but perfectly healthy, having changed into their normal clothes. Iris supposed Aqua had visited the tent, which made sense.

“DADDY! MOMMY!” Faitifore shrieked, and threw herself into Dust’s arms. “I was so scared when you left me!”

“Uhhh,” Dust said, blinking down at the little girl, then turning abashed to Rin. “S-she’s not mine, I promise!”

“I know,” Rin said, frowning at the girl herself. She knelt down, putting her head on a level with Faitifore’s. “Sweetie, I don’t think we’re your parents…do you know who they are?”

“You,” Faitifore insisted. “Even when I wasn’t alive, I remember that daddy was my master, and you were my mommy! You took care of me, and I kept you safe!”

“Um, Dust, Rin…this is Faitifore,” Iris said, motioning to the girl. The two of them blinked, then looked down at the girl, who grinned up at them.

“She’s…my ship?” Dust asked, sounding confused.

“I’m not a ship now, I’m a dragon!” Faitifore said eagerly.

“Uh, perhaps you should not demonstrate inside,” Iris said hastily, putting a hand on Faitifore’s head. She nodded to Dust and Rin, who still looked confused. “She is your ship, given life as a dragon as a reward by Aqua. She seems to be a high dragon: when they attain a certain amount of power, they can take human form.”

“Aqua…saved Faitifore?” Rin asked, swaying slightly. Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she hugged Faitifore tightly. “That…that sounds too good to be true!”

“My baby!” Dust bawled, and hugged both of them.

At that, Iris smiled. Perhaps things really were getting better.

“Iris?”

She looked up, and found Kazuma shuffling forward, supported by Lolisa, who was looking concerned herself. The succubi was looking rather hale, considering the last time Iris had seen her, she’d been doused in holy water and near death. As for Kazuma, he looked like ten kilometers of bad road, but even though he had dark circles under his eyes, he looked remarkably well.

“You’re awake! Both of you!” Iris said with a grin, and had to fight back tears of her own as she drew both of them into a hug. “I was so worried…”

“Kazuma saved me,” Lolisa said, looking rather uncomfortable. “I, um, I sort of, accidentally…”

“Don’t worry about it, it was an accident, and I would have done it even if I’d known it’d kill me,” Kazuma said hastily.

Iris’ eyes narrowed. She was fully aware of how succubi killed mortal men. She liked Lolisa and wanted to trust her, but…

“I-it was just a kiss, your Majesty,” Lolisa said hastily. “Um, h-he thought to give me mana to heal me, but, um…I was near death, and couldn’t control myself. I-I did warn him not to…”

“Of course,” Iris sighed, then frowned. “Wait, if you died…”

“Aqua brought me back,” Kazuma said, then sobered. “I got a message from Eris. There’s something you should know.”

It didn’t take long to tell the story of Kazuma meeting the Goddess of the Moon, and Iris sat on the chair that had been brought for her, pondering this. So, that was what had happened to her, and to Eris. Hope fluttered in her breast. Perhaps her father, her mother, her brother, they were still alive!

“But no,” Iris whispered, tears coming into her eyes. “They cannot be…”

“Iris? What’s wrong? This is good news, isn’t it?” Kazuma asked from where he was sitting on his cot, Lolisa at his side.

Iris didn’t quite like having a succubi so close to her big brother, but Lolisa’s situation was…unique. Iris had never really met a demon before, though she had heard in sermons that they were wicked. Lolisa though…she seemed like any other being. A dangerous one, yes, but Iris was dangerous. She wanted to believe that even this demon would rally to her cause, and set her wicked ways behind her.

Besides, she clearly cared about Kazuma, though not in a sisterly fashion unless Iris was showing the ignorance of her youth.

“Your story is good news, it’s just, for a moment…I thought perhaps my family was still alive,” Iris said quietly, looking down at her hands and feeling as powerless as she had been for all those years in a tank.

“What, that’s great news! Maybe they are! I mean, there were a lot of tanks down there, so…” Kazuma trailed off, giving Iris a hopeful grin.

She shook her head, however. “Impossible. I felt the Crown pass to me. It would not have done so if my family yet lived. Perhaps there are others alive on the moon, but my family is not among them…”

“Maybe…maybe they’re just cut off, and the planet recognized it just needed a Belzerg, any Belzerg?” Lolisa offered. “O-or one of your parents could live, if they’re not in the line of succession…”

For that comment alone, Iris would have forgiven Lolisa nearly anything. “Thank you. But do not give me false hope. It is enough the goddess yet lives, and perhaps some of those I knew in my youth. We will endeavor to free them, at the earliest possible chance.”

“Hey, no matter what…your family would be proud you’re alive,” Kazuma said, swallowing, tears in his own eyes. “I know, as a big brother…if Lia had lived, and I’d had to give my life to do it…that would have been a fair trade.”

“Thank you. Though I do not wish for you to sacrifice yourself for me, Kazuma,” Iris said, managing a somewhat ironic smile.

He snorted at that thought. “Keep Aqua around. Maybe I can get multiple takes on that one.”

That made Iris giggle and Lolisa look horrified, which was probably a more appropriate take. Death, however, was a Belzerg’s trade and business, and dark humor ran in the family.

Before she could ruminate on that more, Claire poked her head in, eyes wide. “Your Majesty! Y-You have to see this! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Is it more remarkable than a little girl being pulled out of a ship and turning into a dragon?” Iris asked philosophically.

“Uh, no, perhaps not,” Claire admitted. “But it is nonetheless rather shocking. You’d best come see, explaining would take too long.”

Iris followed Claire out, with Kazuma and Lolisa tagging along, despite Kazuma’s obvious frailty. When they got to the entrance, all the hospital patients were whispering and staring in awe. It was hard to tell who was who at first glance, as all wore gowns or smocks, but Iris hazarded that the malnourished looking ones had been the rebels, and the healthier looking ones had been Beldia’s minions. Something to keep note of, but not to hold against anyone. This land had been too long without a true ruler.

However, when Iris caught sight of what everyone was staring at, she could only blink in astonishment herself.

Sometime in between her going into the hospital tent not ten minutes ago and now, a great outdoor kitchen had been set up. Steam, smoke, and delicious smells wafted above the kitchen, where dozens of cooks were sweating and laboring. Great tables with bright blue table clothes and hundreds of places to eat had appeared out of nowhere, and people were already being seated.

At the center of it all was Aqua, who had on a tall chef's hat, and was carrying around a giant spoon, which she was using to sample the various dishes that were being cooked. It didn’t look like fine dining, as Iris could see that most of the food was being fried or roasted, but it did smell wonderful.

“Where…where did it all come from?” Claire asked no one in particular as she stepped up next to Darkness.

Laughing, Iris strode forward, the crowd making way for her. Perhaps due to her rank, or maybe because only an idiot stood in the way of someone even her size in full battle rattle. “The goddess has decreed there to be a party! Come, my loyal subjects! Today, we feast our victory!”

There were wild cheers, and the crowd descended on the party, even as great trays of french fries, tuna-mayo-rice, fried chicken, hot dogs, roasted pork, and yes, cakes, were served up at miraculous speeds.

The road ahead was dark and perilous, but today? Today, they were alive, they were together, and they had just won a mighty victory. Iris ignored the hole in the ceiling above them, where war was yet raging in the skies and heavens.

Eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow, they could die.

But not today.

Second Archon War: Imperatrix Umberosa 14

Imperatrix Umberosa 14: The Wisteria Wedding

Beta’d and edited by Dr_Feelgood, October Daye, The Grand Cogitator, and Philosophysics

Looking at himself in the mirror, Nakamura adjusted his kimono, frowning at his reflection.

“No, not like that, like this.”

He found himself spun about, and Nakamura smiled as his wife adjusted the kimono. He couldn’t really tell what she had done, but it was best to let her fuss about such things.

“You look wonderful,” he told her. And he meant it. She had gone gray, her skin wrinkled and her back bent slightly, but she was beautiful as ever to his eyes. They’d been married now for 48 years, and he still remembered all the turbulent times they’d been through together. To him, she’d always be his blushing bride in those heady days, and the mother of their two children.

“Oh hush you old dog,” she scolded, but she smiled at him. She’d had her hair done up in an elaborate fashion with golden hairpins and real wisteria flowers in it and looked like a noblewoman from the Edo Period. Well, he did have his hair in a chonmage like a noble lord out of the same era, and they were indeed nobility. “You have to look perfect for Lord Mushu and Lady Keiga’s wedding.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I have you then,” Nakamura chuckled, and his wife swatted at him again, though she was smiling fondly.

Once she was done fussing, they paraded out of the bedroom and down the stairs to their waiting limousine. It was only a short drive to the Imperial Palace, and Nakamura and his wife spent it in pleasant silence together. For his part, he reminisced about their own children’s weddings, which had happened more than twenty years ago now. Indeed, the first of their grandchildren had been wed the year before, and Nakamura expected to be a great-grandfather before long.

Japan’s population was booming, with Raiden’s various reforms and the abundance of energy having drastically changed Japanese work culture, along with some remarks from Raiden about family being the “true eternity.” It looked like they wouldn’t be sliding into slow extinction along with the rest of the human race, or not so slow with the way the Endbringers had been wiping out entire cities.

That seemed to be over now, with the Concert of Winds resulting in the death of Khonsu. From some cryptic remarks Raiden had made, Nakamura suspected she’d had a hand in that, and more than just dispatching Tengan as a gesture of token support. While the rest of the world considered Venti a hero, Raiden seemed to think he was the de facto head of state of Central Europe.

Not that Nakamura thought that Venti couldn’t have had the German chancellorship if he’d sought it out. But no one had heard from the Anemo Archon since the New Year, aside from rumors that he was performing at bars across Central Europe. The Shuumatsuban was trying to keep tabs on Venti, but whenever they thought they had him under surveillance, he’d slip away. Raiden seemed to find this both unsurprising and amusing, so Nakamura wasn’t overly concerned on the subject.

There was a great crowd around the palace, with the media having set up shop, and well wishers and fans of the most famous power couple in Japan lining up to show their support. There would be a public appearance by the happy couple after the ceremony, but that wasn’t to be until that afternoon, and it was yet early morning.

They pulled around to a private entrance underground, where Nakamura was met by his staff and various junior officials who were running interference for the wedding. There were, of course, a thousand things that still needed to be done before the ceremony. Mercifully, Nakamura wasn’t in charge of planning all this. Because it was an absolute circus.

“There are pictures to be taken still, in the royal garden. You’re to get Princess Ami and her retinue and escort them there,” one of the aides informed Nakamura.

He sighed heavily. “And make sure Clara doesn’t have any bombs on her, I imagine.”

“Uh, yes. That would be preferred,” the aide agreed, looking rather worried at the idea. It was a fool's errand, of course. Clara ALWAYS had bombs on her.

While Nakamura had been half-expecting an utter disaster waiting for him in the youngest Princess’ Royal Chambers, instead he found three lovely young ladies done up in exquisite makeup, with their hair in elaborate displays much like Mrs. Nakamura’s, and of course, armed to the teeth. Their servants were still fussing over the princess and her friend, and interestingly enough, their new bodyguard.

“I don’t see why I have to dress up!” Sayu complained, frowning down at her brown and green kimono, which had imagery of forest leaves and gusts of wind on it. “I’m supposed to be your bodyguard, not your buddy!”

Indeed, Sayu looked more like a princess herself than a bodyguard, her short brown hair pulled back with an elaborate golden pin, also shaped like a leaf, and her Anemo vision glowing on her waist. Her giant sword was nowhere to be seen, but from what Nakamura understood, she could pull it out of her Vision whenever she wanted to.

“Because you have to look pretty for Uncle Mushu’s wedding!” Ami insisted, bouncing up and down as she skipped over to Nakamura and beamed up at him. “Hi, Uncle Nakamura! How do we look?”

“Mmm, let me see,” Nakamura said gravely, motioning for Ami to spin about. She wore a red and purple kimono with the royal sigil, the Electro symbol with a Thunder Sakura blossom at the center, and had her long dark hair set into a fanciful headdress resembling the horn of a Kirin, such as the one dressed in a little bowtie and dinner jacket that floated at her shoulder.

“Yes, Murasaki-san looks quite dapper, I must say,” Nakamura said gravely.

“Why, thank you, Lord Nakamura,” the little dragon said, preening at the praise as Ami let out an offended squawk.

“And I suppose you look quite beautiful as well,” Nakamura said with a grin, reaching down to pat Ami on the head.

“No touching! It took forever to get this right!” Ami giggled, clutching at her golden Kirin horn. She was armed with a pair of swords, which was only fitting for the Royal Princess. Though the scabbards were made of lacquered wood that was garishly painted with fanciful imagery, the handles were wrapped only with good leather, and, and the blades themselves had been forged by Raiden. When unsheathed, they glowed with purple light, and Nakamura had seen Ami carve concrete pillars like they were tatami mats with the blades.

“What about me!?” Clara asked eagerly, coming up and twirling for Nakamura herself. Her dark blonde hair had been done up in ringlets with golden hairpins, while her kimono was red with pale pink blossoms on it that looked suspiciously like stylized explosions.

“Adorable as ever,” Nakamura assured her, smiling and remembering when his granddaughters had been this age. He glanced at Sayu, who was old enough to be at that very difficult age all children went through in their early teen years. The bodyguard was acting disinterested and pretending to keep an eye out for danger, but he knew better than that. “And you look quite beautiful as well, Miss Sayu.”

“Thanks, I guess,” she muttered, but the trainee ninja was blushing and trying to hide a smile.

“Now, before we go,” Nakamura held out his hands. “I need you to turn over all Jumpty Dumptys to me.”

“What Jumpty Dumpties?” Clara asked innocently, giving Nakamura her very best baffled expression. She was eleven now though, and far too old to pull that off.

“The several you have secreted about your person, and the one that’s in your hair,” Nakamura said firmly. He wasn’t sure about the hair one, but it was a safe bet.

Pouting, Clara pulled her Jumpty Dumpties out of her hair, passing them over to Nakamura. He was actually rather surprised when she gave him four, and at how large one of them was. Then she passed over another bomb the size of a softball she’d had stuffed down her robes and Nakamura let out a heavy sigh. “Is that all of them?”

“Um, yes?” Clara said, smiling innocently again.

“Nope,” Sayu said with a roll of her eyes behind Clara’s back.

“BIG SIS SAYU! HOW CAN YOU BETRAY MEEEEEEE!” Clara wailed, swooning in a dramatic fashion so that Nakamura had to stick a hand out to catch her. Which was when he felt another lump and glared at Clara until she stood up and reached down her back to pull out yet another bomb.

“I have to keep some of them! What if bad guys attack?!” Clara asked, giving Nakamura such a look of woe that even his heart was moved.

“As long as they’re small,” Nakamura said sternly. “And that you will not set them off during the ceremony.”

Clara attempted another look of wounded innocence, but absolutely no one was buying it. She sighed in surrender. “I promise, Uncle.”

After that, it was Mrs. Nakamura’s turn to coo over the girls and pinch their cheeks, even Sayu’s to her mortification and not so secret as she might hope delight.

After that were several hours of photos. Nakamura with his wife, Nakamura with the Imperial Princesses, both Ami and Tsukuyomi. The elder, or, well, from the story, younger, Princess was dressed in a purple and black Kimono with a simple sakura blossom in her hair and her sword on her hip, having taken on her less Raiden-like form for the wedding.

Then there were pictures of the various other officials as well, most of whom were not invited to the wedding ceremony, but who showed up to gladhand nonetheless. Nakamura smiled and shook hands with them all, even Ishihara, who had been scarce these past few months since Hashigumi’s funeral.

“And so, yet another nail in the coffin of democracy. And we are expected to applaud,” Ishihara said, a smile plastered on his face as he greeted Nakamura.

“Since when did you care? You were one of the ones to advocate for turning the country over to Raiden,” Nakamura said with a snort. He did still miss the dream of democracy, but at the same time…the world was troubled. And if the cost of safety from Endbringers was an immortal God Empress, well, she came with free unlimited energy. That was a bargain any nation would be jealous of.

“It’s not too late, you know. You could still abandon these fools, advocate for a return to the real Japan,” Ishihara whispered.

“I serve the Raiden Shogun,” Nakamura responded, eyes narrowing in warning. “And so do you, if you are wise.”

Ishihara just smiled at him, but his eyes burned with hatred. Would the man never let go? Yes, the Shogun had apologized for Japanese War Crimes. Yes, it was a loss of face. But how could the fool not see just how much goodwill that had gained them in Southeast Asia in the weeks since then? They’d made much more favorable trade deals and opened up new markets for their goods. The real benefits would be a generation that no longer had the twin specters of lies and dishonor hanging over their heads, one that could step into the future as leaders in their sphere. Not because they were tyrants, but because they were in truth the noble and honorable nation Japan had always imagined herself to be.

Shortly after that, Nakamura found the groom, and thoughts of Ishihara and his weak protests vanished from his mind.

“How do I look?” Kenta said, for the young man standing before Nakamura today was no dragon, but a nervous groom on his wedding day. His robes were of the finest silk, with detailed scrollwork of purple dragons on a white background, the royal crest that marked him as Raiden’s foremost retainer emblazoned on his back, and the swords of his office holstered at his hip. Come to think of it, Nakamura had never seen Kenta use the swords for anything other than ceremony, though that was a thought for later.

“You look handsome and strong. Chiyo is a lucky young woman,” Nakamura reassured Kenta, putting a hand on the younger man’s arm. Even in human form, he was broad-shouldered and tall, especially for a Japanese. He was a halfu, but the Chinese weren’t known to be giants either. Nakamura vaguely wondered if Kenta had been so tall before he became a dragon, but brushed that idle thought off as well.

“What if she changes her mind? What if, what if her parents decide to withdraw their blessing?” Kenta said, gripping the hilt of his sword with one hand, the other clenching and unclenching reflexively.

Ah, the catastrophizing of youth. It was nonsense, absolute nonsense. Even ignoring the love between Kenta and Chiyo, Kenta had grown well under the auspices of his role, and any in-laws would be delighted with such a match. Long gone was the self-proclaimed “jumped-up thug” that Kenta had proclaimed himself as, and Nakamura found himself proud to see the growth of the young man that Kenta was now.

“She will not. They will not. Last I saw, she was as nervous as you and just as worried about rejection,” Nakamura chuckled. “All young people are like this on their wedding day. You should have seen me before mine! I was so worried Aoi would say no! Ours was a Christian ceremony though, those were very in fashion in the 50s.”

“Yeah, well, having a god perform my wedding ceremony would be scarier if I didn’t have to remind her this morning that she couldn’t come in a greasy apron and had to turn off the latest episode of Princess Tutu,” Kenta grumbled. “It’s Earth Aleph trash anyway.”

“It will be fine. Her Excellency would not forget your wedding day,” Nakamura said with a chuckle, patting Kenta on the shoulder. “She has been quite pleased that you have found a ‘mate’ and has remarked about how eager she is to meet your daughter.”

“I’m just hoping she doesn’t do anything crazy,” Kenta said, but he gave Nakamura a dopey grin regardless. “You think people will notice she’s pregnant?”

“She’s not even  four months yet, and the tailors do good work. I doubt it. Besides, would it be so bad if she was? What groom does not wish to have proof of his virility on his wedding day?” Nakamura teased, and Kenta managed a nervous chuckle.

“Thanks, by the way,” Kenta said, turning towards the mirror and frowning at his reflection. “For being here. You’re doing what my old man should have done.”

Nakamura nodded. “You are a fine young man. Though perhaps a bit young to be my son. I have a grandson older than you.”

That got an actual laugh from Kenta. “Well, thanks, Gramps. I’m not even 23 yet. Hard to believe… but Chiyo’s only 22 herself. Guess we’re just kids to you.”

“Oh, very much so,” Nakamura agreed, but he smiled to show he meant no offense. “But you’ve proven yourself a wise young man. Not the least because you courted such a fine young woman. You two will do right by Japan and her Excellency both.”

Then it was time to head to the ceremony. Nakamura and his wife were placed in the procession beside Ms. Wang, indeed where the Groom’s father would be. The bride and groom normally would have led the way, but this time, the Raiden Shogun herself would be leading the ceremonial procession through the palace grounds to the Thunder Sakura tree at the center of the gardens. She looked serene as always, though she did smile slightly when she glanced at the bride and groom, standing together under the shade of an umbrella held by a most unusual shrine maiden.

“Can we hurry this up?” the pink-haired shrine maiden demanded. “It’s hot. I was told there would be food here! Come on, humans! You’ve clearly already mated, what’s with the fuss?!”

“Hush, Yae,” Raiden said, that same smile on her lips. “You are honored to be sheltering the Electro Dragon and his chosen mate from the sun.”

“Yeah, but it’s cold! It’s been snowing! Look, there’s ice there! Why do they need shade?” the young shrine maiden whined, some of her hair escaping from her bun and sticking up slightly. Nakamura blinked. That wasn’t hair. That was an ear. And there were two fluffy pink tails sticking out of the back of the maiden’s robes.

“The yokai are honor bound to pay homage to the Electro Dragon, or do you not remember this?” Raiden asked, her eyebrows raising as she regarded the apparent kitsune. When had that happened? Nakamura had to get out a handkerchief and mop his brow. Would wonders never cease?

“Pff, what yokai? I’m the only yokai around here,” Yae muttered.

“I was the god of the yokai, once. I ascended to become the god of both mankind and yokai when I became the Electro Archon. It seems you have followed me here, in one form or another. Do well today, and I shall reward you with some dango,” Raiden promised.

“Dango shmango, I want french fries!” Yae huffed, but her tail was wagging slightly, betraying her interest.

The priests behind the bride and groom lifted their instruments, and the signal was given that the procession was ready.

“Do not try to use an illusion to fulfill your duties, Yae. I am wise to your tricks,” Raiden said, and a spark shot out of one of her fingers, zapping what had previously been an invisible fox demon, who yowled as her illusion vanished and the umbrella clattered to the ground.

“OW! Ugh, fine. But there better be dango!” Yae said, stalking over and picking up the umbrella,  lifting it over Kenta and Chiyo’s heads. “Ready, your draconic overlordness.”

Satisfied, Raiden turned and walked towards the boughs of the Thunder Sakura, as the priests behind them began to play, and the procession began. For a Shinto wedding, it was quite the long one, snaking through the trees for nearly 100 meters, full of important officials, powerful sentai, and more than a few foreign dignitaries.

The walk itself took about 15 minutes, though they could have covered the ground in less than five if they hadn’t wove back and forth along the garden paths, giving plenty of opportunities for the media to snap pictures, or the hovering drones to record footage to be broadcast to the adoring masses. Nakamura did his best to look dignified and regal as he walked, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the trio of giggling preteens behind him.

At last, they arrived at the pavilion and benches set up under the branches of the Thunder Sakura tree. Raiden took her place at the head of the assembly, while Kenta and Chiyo knelt before her, facing one another.

Once everyone was seated, Raiden looked across the assembled crowd, then spoke. “Let all who assemble now bear witness to Eternity. Today, we join two souls in Union, that they may walk the endless path of fate alongside one another.”

That wasn’t exactly part of the script of your traditional Shinto wedding, but then again, most weddings didn’t have the divinity their religion worshiped to perform the ceremony. Though Nakamura had heard rumors about a wedding officiated by Barbados the month before.

“I call now to the representatives of mortal man and the spirits of Japan, gathered here this day to witness this union,” Raiden decreed, nodding to Nakamura.

He blinked, as he certainly hadn’t been informed of this, but he stood and walked to the side of the pavilion to stand behind Kenta, along with Kokusho in a face-obscuring mask, and Jugan of the Sentai. Across from them stood Yae, who was managing to look rather dignified, along with Ami and Tsukuyomi. The kami assembled indeed.

“Before we begin, I must ask of the bride: Do you intend to enter into this union as the lesser partner? You are but a mortal, and you would wed a dragon,” Raiden said, turning to Keiga.

The young woman flushed, glancing at her intended, but then fixed her gaze on Raiden. “I do not think of this as a marriage between an inferior and a superior. I am Keiga the Tide Star of the Sentai, and I have stood alongside my husband in battle. I will continue to do so. I am not a dragon yet, but this day, I will become one.”

Mushu rumbled his agreement, nodding and smiling at his bride.

“Well spoken,” Raiden said with a cool nod. “And this day, you shall become a dragon in truth. Behold! The heart of Leviathan!”

There was a sudden flash, and all assembled cried out as a great pulsing black heart appeared before Raiden. It was huge, bigger than a man, and although it was but an organ, it beat and pulsed faintly.

“This I took as my trophy in battle against the Demon,” Raiden decreed, her hands lifted high as Keiga shrank back from the horrible object. “The beast was no true dragon, and yet, it held within it great power. I have forged this heart anew, and this day, I purify it!”

Lightning arced from the Thunder Sakura tree, passing through Raiden and into the heart, which began to beat faster, glowing with a brilliant violet light. Nakamura had to shield his eyes and turn his head away for long moments until the light finally faded. When he looked back, his jaw dropped open, as the heart was no longer pitch back.

Instead, it now beat with a steady rhythm, and was azure blue, as the sea was under clear skies, and pure water flowed from the heart, forming a pool below it in a basin that had been inset into the floor of the pavilion.

“Yoshimotto Chiyo, will you cast aside your humanity, and embrace Eternity?” Raiden called, walking around the heart to stand over the bride. “Will you become your husband's equal? Will you become a dragon?”

“I…” Chiyo looked at the heart, and Nakamura could see a hunger in her gaze. “It’s… beautiful. You mean it for… me?”

“If you desire it. Be warned: This is a heavy burden to bear,” Raiden said, her tone deadly serious.

“Chiyo, you don’t have to,” Kenta said quietly. “I didn’t ask you to marry me because of anything but what you are.”

“I know, but…” Chiyo put a hand to her womb and grimaced. “My… what of my child?”

“Your child already has the blood of dragons in her veins. She is a blade yet unforged. She will be unharmed,” Raiden stated.

“Then… then I accept,” Chiyo said, scooting forward towards the heart and the pool of sparkling water.

“Then drink. And become the Tide Star,” Raiden decreed.

Reaching forward, Chiyo cupped both her hands and scooped up a double handful of water. Placing it to her lips, she drank it.

Nakamura tensed, but at first, nothing happened. Chiyo blinked, then suddenly stuck her head into the pool of water, fully immersing itas the pool proved far deeper than it looked. The heart began to pulse wildly, rainbows and azure light emanating from it. Nakamura could see Chiyo sucking in great mouthfuls of water, until with a cry she tumbled into the pool.

“CHIYO!” Kenta cried, reaching out for her, but Raiden pulled him back. His bride-to-be vanished into the water and light, and Nakamura held his breath.

Then a radiant serpent burst forth from the pool, piercing through the heart, and letting out a warbling cry. The azure heart and the water were absorbed by the serpent, which grew in size until it was larger than the pavilion, wrapping itself around it twice over.

I AM…WATER! The newly born dragon roared, her jaws opening wide. She was long and slender, with light blue scales and a long rigid spine along her back. Her four feet were webbed between her talons, and her long whiskers looked like those of a catfish, while her elegant pink horns looked like growths of coral out of her head. I AM THE TIDE STAR!

“This is not a union of men, but of dragons!” Raiden decreed. “Mushu! Join your bride!”

Surging to his feet, Mushu’s robes fell from his body as he transformed, taking on his own draconic form. He was even larger than Keiga, thicker of body and more muscular, with more defined scales, powerful limbs, and antlers that crackled with electro. The two serpents entwined about one another, keening a song that was both terrifying and wonderful as their long bodies soared up into the sky, racing around the Thunder Sakura tree as they made for the heavens.

“Japan! Behold, the Twin Guardian Serpents of Eternity! For we are a nation of thunder and waves, and we shall be warded by the Divine Serpents, Mushu and Keiga!” Raiden decreed, and Nakamura found himself roaring his approval, as he prostrated himself before the divine beasts.

Raiden herself lifted off into the sky, soaring up high, her daughters taking to the air beside her, Tsukuyomi upon her own power, Ami riding Murasaki in the guise of a kirin. The royal family hovered above the Thunder Sakura tree, and the two dragons lowered themselves, bowing to the God of Eternity and her daughters.

LET ALL THE LAND REJOICE, FOR THE DRAGONS ARE ONE! Raiden’s voice boomed in Nakamura’s mind, and in the minds of every mortal in Tokyo.

“BANZAI!” Nakamura cheered along with all who beheld the sight, looking up from where he lay in obeisance. Nakamura noted that even Yae deigned to bow her head and give a shallow bow, though that was all.

Then, it was over. Keiga and Mushu descended, resuming their human forms. New robes had to be brought for them, and both of them were blushing and embarrassed at their nudity. Raiden descended as well, casting off the guise of the Deity she had taken up for those brief moments. It all felt like a dream to Nakamura, but then the happy couple took the three sips of sake from the three bowls, and the ceremony came to an end.

That was, of course, far from the end of things. This was just the “private” ceremony, with only a hundred or so guests in attendance. Now it was time for the public party, and everyone headed to the fleet of vehicles assembled to escort them all to the giant party to be hosted at the Grand Hyatt a few kilometers away.

Nakamura ended up in the limousine with Ami and her two friends, the three preteens giggling and chattering about how incredible the ceremony had been.

“You were so cool Ami!” Clara squealed as they slid into their seats. “Keiga turned into a dragon, and then you were all up in the air with Raiden! Do you think I could turn into a dragon!?”

“Don’t be dumb, there’s only one Endbringer that Raiden’s killed,” Sayu said with a snort. “Besides, do you know how much work it would be to be a dragon? They make Mushu run around all over the place, and now they’re gonna do the same to Keiga. Plus, she’s going to have a baby. She won’t have any time to sleep at all, and what kind of a life is that?”

“I think it was incredible. Perhaps I too will one day turn into a dragon,” Ami said, posing dramatically as she stood up on the seat.

“Sit down, dear,” Mrs. Nakamura urged, and Ami bounced down onto the seat with a grin.

“It’ll have to be in an episode of Lightning Princess Ami! Maybe there should be a dramatic battle too, with us having to help Keiga tame the spirit of the Levithan and reenacting the battle again!”

“Seriously? You’ve fought Leviathan, like, twice in your show. Do something new,” Sayu said with a roll of her eyes

“That’s because fighting Leviathan was AWESOME! But you could be there too this time, Sayu! Last time it was just me and Ami helping her mom!” Clara said excitedly.

“No, it was Jessica,” Sayu sighed.

“Duh, she IS Jessica, that’s just her secret identity!” Ami argued.

“Aren’t you glad ours are grown up?” Nakamura’s wife said quietly, leaning in close to him, her head resting on his shoulders.

“Immensely,” Nakamura said with a chuckle. “It was fun helping with the girls, but we could always pass them back to their parents at the end of the day.”

“Hmm, grandchildren are much more fun,” his wife agreed. “They-”

“BOMB!” Clara suddenly screamed, pulling out her Jumpty Dumpties.

“What-” Nakamura began, but then Sayu had already jumped up, her sword appearing in her hands.

“ANEMO SHIELD NO-JUTSU!”

Nakamura was slammed into his wife and then they were all pressed together in a tight ball of anemo energy, just as the world erupted into flames.

The shield collapsed as the car was torn apart around them, despite being a heavily armored VIP security vehicle. Sayu cried out in pain, and a moment later, she fell to the floor as the air filled with smoke and flames.

“Mistress!” Muraski cried, back in his kirin form as he tore them free of the burning wreck.

Nakamura stumbled to his feet, picking up the coughing and weeping Ami and Sayu as his wife grabbed Clara. They stumbled free of the burning wreckage, as gunfire and explosions lit off around them.

“DIE, YOU FUCKERS!”

Murasaki lunged as a screaming blond foreigner charged at them, swinging some sort of improvised weapon. The man snarled, but Murasaki screamed in pain even as lightning sparked from his horn. He and the man tussled for a moment, then Murasaki was down, falling to the ground as a little dragon again.

“Stay back!” Nakamura snarled, shoving Ami and Sayu into his wife’s arms as he struggled to get his sword free of its scabbard. He almost never used the thing, as he saw it as entirely ceremonial, though even he couldn’t resist using it to slice a few tatami mats.

“Back off from the bitches, they’re mine!” the foreigner snarled in English. Nakamura got a better look at him, and saw that most of his body was some sort of clear liquid. What he had taken for an improvised weapon was his right arm elongated and with the fist turned into a spiky ball of liquid. The arm swung down, and Nakamura raised his sword in a desperate counter.

He managed to slice the acidic arm in two as it descended. It spared the lives of his wife and the girls.

It did not save his.

Ami could only scream as Murasaki went down. She could feel the blow on her own skin, the acid stinging her as if it had brushed her and not crushed her familiar. She was too weak to even draw her blade, and she thought she would be the next to die. Then she watched in horror as Nakamura took the blow meant for her, his sword carving off the acid arm of their attacker, even as his own body dissolved in a horrific hiss and stink.

“FUCKER!” the foreigner screamed, staggering back as Nakamura’s legs toppled over, all that was left of him.

“Go, JUMPTY DUMPTY!” Clara shrieked and tossed all the bombs she had on herself at the attacker. They exploded on contact with his acidic body, blowing great chunks out of it, and the man snarled in pain.

“You dumb bitch. I’m going to carve you up for that,” the man growled, even as his body reconstituted. His arm began to grow again, and Mrs. Nakamura cried out, trying to shield Ami with her own body.

Then, her mother was there.

Between one blink and the next, a portal opened, and thunder roared. There was no battle cry. No dramatic speeches. No pontification.

There was only death.

Ami could barely follow even with her enhanced senses as her mother slew their attacker in a single blow, not even pausing as she charged out of the portal and through him, her sword cutting a perfect arc. The man didn’t even have time to scream, the acid of his body flashing to steam and vanishing.

But the Raiden shogun did not stop. All up and down the convey, bombs and attackers attempted to pick off the leadership of Japan. Draconic roars could be heard from further up the convoy, so Ami knew that Uncle Mushu and Aunt Keiga were alive. But she had eyes only for her mother.

A dozen attackers, some of them capes with powers, others only mortals with guns, came at the Raiden shogun from all sides. There was at least one Mover who was super sonic, moving too fast for Ami to see.

He might as well have been standing still in comparison to the Raiden Shogun. In an eyeblink, her blade struck down a dozen foes, their bodies flashing to ash.

Then her mother turned, stooping next to Ami. “Are you injured?”

Wincing, Ami nodded. “But I’m OK. What…what about Uncle Nakamura?”

Her mother stood, her expression dark. “He is slain. Not even I can resurrect the dead.”

There were screams behind them, and Ami whirled. All she saw were bodies falling as Tsukuyomi knelt before her. “Sister. Are you well?”

Unable to speak as her throat closed, Ami could only nod.

“Good.” Tsukuyomi stood and looked to their mother.

“Guard them,” Raiden ordered, turning back to the fight. She didn’t say another word.

There was a crash of thunder, and mere moments later, the killing stopped. For there were no more foes to slay.

Silence descended upon the ruins of the convoy, as a nation held its breath in collective horror.

Raiden returned to Ami’s side, picking up her daughter and placing Ami’s head on her shoulder. Minutes ago, Ami would have said she was too old for her mother to hold her like this. Now she clung to Raiden for all she was worth, weeping so hard she hiccuped uncontrollably.

“Find who did this,” she heard her mother say to Tsukuyomi.

“Yes,” Tsukuyomi agreed. “We will root them out.”

“I do not wish for prisoners. Bring me only their heads,” Raiden said, and her voice was as cold as winter. She squeezed Ami tightly. “They have hurt my family. Never again.”

Ami felt Tsukoyomi bow her head, then her sister rested a hand on her back. “Fear not. This will be avenged.”

Then Tsukuyomi was gone.

But her mother was there, and Ami continued to cling to her. To her astonishment, she realized Raiden was weeping.

Before this was done, the entire world would weep.

Author’s Note

PHILO: I fell in love with the father-son dynamic that Nakamura and Kenta had and feel greatly miffed that in the very same chapter, Full-Paragon took it away. Beware the tears of Kuudere because it means the ice has melted in her rage. Also, I suggested the title! It’s cool, right? Wisteria are supposed to represent eternity and longevity whilst also representing the transience of life, and I may have watched too much Demon Slayer, but guarantee the Raiden Shogun would also be a huge fan of the show.

OCTOBER: God damn it, I already snuck in the Mourner’s Kaddish into a different editor’s note — we’re not doing it again!

DrFeelgood:  The line from Doctor Who about ‘demons run when good men go to war’ seems like it fits here.

Last Drop of Hope, Chapter 20

Beta’d and edited by the Grand Cogitator and Dr_Feelgood

Slowly, painfully, Kazuma drifted back to consciousness. He felt groggy and drained still, and every nerve in his body felt like it had been put through the wringer. Part of him wanted to just lie here forever, sleeping for the next year or two, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He struggled to open his eyes, and his vision swam for a few moments, the world around him dark and blurry.

“Big Brother!” someone grabbed his hand and squeezed, and Kazuma’s heart leaped as his brain slowly churned.

“Lia?” he whispered, even as a familiar face slowly came into focus. He found himself lying on a cot in a tent, corporate made by the quality, with curtains around him. The air was full of the smell of blood, sweat, excrement, and disinfectant. Soft moans and cries could be heard, along with coughs, and the hum of various medical devices. Before him, however, sat the one person in the system he really wanted to see.

Alice smiled down at him sadly, reaching down to smooth some of Kazuma’s hair from his clammy forehead. “No. It seems you lost those you love as well, did you not?”

“Sorry,” Kazuma said, closing his eyes again and fighting back tears. “I know you’re actually Alice…”

“No…I’m not.”

That made Kazuma’s eyes snap open again, and he tried to sit up. “What!? Who are you, where is my little sister?!”

“Shhh. It’s alright. I am the one you knew as Alice. But that is not my name.” She gave Kazuma a sad smile, gently pressing him back down onto the pad he was lying on. “My name…” She took a deep breath, composed herself, then continued,“I am Iris Stylish Sword Belzerg. I was the Princess, my elder brother, Jatice, was the Heir Apparent. But from what I now gather…that was hundreds of years ago. When the Flesh Shaper conquered Eris. When the last goddess fell. My memory is yet hazy, but…”

“Your Majesty!” another voice called, and Kazuma looked up, then let out a startled gasp and tried to rise again as someone in NyteTech corpsec armor hurried over. It was a woman with short blonde hair, with one lock of hair on the right dyed purple. She gave Kazuma a withering look, then bowed to Alice. No, Iris?

“What is it, Claire?” Iris asked, turning to regard the woman.

“Your Majesty, the fighting has stopped across all sectors. Word of Beldia’s death is spreading, and NyteTech forces are throwing down their arms,” Claire said, still bowing with one hand over her heart.

“That is good to hear. There is much to do and learn,” Iris said, and she looked exhausted, her expression growing hangdog for a moment. Kazuma saw now that she was still wearing her power armor, her face was smudged and bruised, and her hair greasy from being under a helmet for too long.

“Uh, no offense, but who are you, exactly?” Kazuma said, squinting up at the corporate dog.

Claire rose slightly and gave Kazuma a tight smile. “Claire Symphonia. Her Majesty’s most loyal retainer.”

That prompted an eyebrow raise from Kazuma. “I…think I was maybe out for longer than I thought. Alice, Iris…what happened?”

Iris looked down, and once more looked more like a scared, lonely, and exhausted little girl than a terrifying warrior or weary monarch. “When I touched the soil of this world, I…remembered. Not everything. But my blood recalled me to who I am. What I am.”

“And this bimbo is here, why?” Kazuma demanded bluntly. He’d never been fond of authority figures, and this Claire just oozed “cop” from her every pore.

“Watch your tongue! Such impertinence in front of her Majesty-” Claire began, her color rising as her nostrils flared in anger.

“Enough! I do not need two of my allies fighting when I have enough enemies surrounding me!” Iris snapped, and Kazuma and Claire both muttered apologies.

“Kazuma,” Iris said, turning her eyes back to him, a lingering pain and sadness still there. “I am the last of the Belzerg royal bloodline. The Crown has passed to me. And with it, the weight and authority of being Queen of Belzerg.”

“So, you just…declared yourself queen? I mean, I’d vote for you, but, uh, how’s that work?” Kazuma asked, his brow furrowing. “Because I vaguely remember you dueling Beldia and me spraying him down, but there was a lot of weird stuff going on.”

“I confess, your Majesty, I am somewhat curious myself,” Claire said stiffly. “And, while I find this boy's attitude uncouth…he showed remarkable courage and skill during that battle.”

Rubbing her hands through her hair only made them both filthier, and Iris sighed heavily, shaking her head. “There is too much to tell, and my mind is yet full of holes. But essentially, the Crown is more than just a title. It is a potent magical contract between my House, the Gods, and the Land. Belzerg must have a ruler for all to be right, and I am now that ruler. Weak and pitiful though I am-”

Kazuma snorted, and though Claire shot him a glare and he winced at the pain his body sent as protest at his sudden move, he managed, “Iris, I watched you rip a turret off a tank and then personally duel an immortal cyborg. I don’t think anyone is less weak and pitiful than you.”

“He speaks truly, your Majesty,” Claire agreed, nodding firmly. “That was a magnificent display.”

“Thank you, both of you. But my house was much diminished before I was ever born, and I am but the weakest and frailest member,” Iris said with another shake of her head. “Still, I will do what I can. It is obvious this world needs the Crown to restore it. It is my burden to bear.”

“Right, that still doesn’t explain the pig,” Kazuma said, eyes narrowing at Claire.

She puffed up for a moment, then deflated. “Her Majesty is… merciful. More than I deserve. Until recently, I fought for NyteTech, to my eternal shame.”

“We were all of us deceived and imprisoned by the lies of the CEOs, those I recall as Generals of the Devil King,” Iris said, putting a gauntlet on Claire’s arm. “You recalled your heritage and your oaths. You are no traitor.”

“What, is she some lost ancient bloodline?” Kazuma said with a smirk. When Iris simply gave him a cool nod and Claire looked at him thoughtfully, Kazuma had the wind taken out of him as well. “...oh. So, uh…does that mean you’re not my…”

His throat closed up, and he couldn’t say any more. Iris, however, shook her head and took Kazuma’s bruised and torn hands in her own. “You shall always be my Elder Brother. I sense power within your blood as well, Kazuma. And with your defeat of Beldia…it would not be unusual for such a man to be adopted into the Royal Family.”

“Your Majesty!” Claire gasped again, looking horrified.

“He has the blood of heroes, and do you deny that he is not a man of courage and skill?” Iris asked, turning to Claire with a patient expression.

“N-no, your Majesty,” Claire admitted, lowering her gaze. “And, well…he was the first to find you, was he not?”

“Then you shall be my Elder Brother in truth,” Iris decreed, giving Kazuma’s hands a slight squeeze, her eyes misting over. “I name you Heir Apparent, and Kazuma Squirtgun Belzerg.”

“Uh, can I get a mulligan on my name?” Kazuma asked even as Claire developed a sudden coughing fit, turning away as she chortled.

Iris grinned mischievously, and for just a moment, she was a little girl again. “Why, do you not enjoy your title of honor? It is traditional for Belzergs to be named after their favored combat style.”

“Yeah, but, Squirtgun? Can I at least be named ‘Radiant Water Cannon’ or something?” Kazuma asked desperately. Seriously, Squirtgun? That had to be the worst name ever.

“Hmm,” Iris stroked an invisible beard as if thinking, then grinned and shook her head. “Nope! You shall be Kazuma Squirtgun Sato-Belzerg!”

“Great, thanks,” Kazuma groaned, his head thumping back on his pillow. A slow grin did spread on his face though. “That was pretty awesome though, wasn’t it? I mean, I just got an assist, but…”

“It was. There have been other generals that were defeated throughout history, Beldia was not the first Dullahan to serve in the Devil King’s army. But it was a rare occurrence, and a mighty feat,” Iris agreed, standing. “I fear I must attend to my duties. Rest now. Your mana will take some time to recover after how badly you strained your body in the battle.”

“Right. You take care of yourself too,” Kazuma said, and with a final squeeze of his hand, Iris stood to go. Claire made to follow, but Kazuma snagged her arm. “Hey. Make sure she eats, gets a shower, takes care of herself. She just went through hell as well.”

“It is not for you to dictate what her majesty does,” Claire sniffed. When Kazuma glared at her, she sighed. “You are correct, however. I’ll see to it that Her Majesty gets some rest. That is the duty of a retainer after all.”

They left, and Kazuma lay back on his bed, exhausted, and drifted off again. He didn’t dream so much as pass out for a while, and when he came to again, he was groggy, with a parched throat. He disconnected his IV pole from its clip, then hobbled out of his little cubicle with it rattling beside him. There were still plenty of sick people around, but there were nurses giving what aid they could. Kazuma found a bucket to piss in and a bottle of water, then was making his way back to his own bed.

“Hey! Kazuma! You’re alive!”

Kazuma glanced into one cubicle, then grinned. “Dust! Rin! You made it!”

“Barely,” Rin croaked, giving Kazuma a slight smile under her mountain of bandages, her face mostly obscured, one leg raised in a full cast. What Kazuma could see of her face looked like it had been badly burned, and her tail had been salved and bandaged as well. Dust was stilling close to her, holding her hand, one arm in a sling, an eyepatch over one eye and half his face swathed in bandages.

“You two look like hell, I didn’t see what happened after we ditched the ship,” Kazuma said, leaning on the makeshift frame for support.

Dust grimaced. “We were coming down OK, but we got hit with the backblast of a plasma gun or something. Fried us half to death, barely survived. Rin got the worst of it…”

“He tried to block the whole thing,” Rin said, sounding both tired and proud as her eye fixed on Dust. “Somehow the big stupid lug managed to keep me alive and he still came off looking better.”

“...didn’t manage to save you,” Dust muttered, blushing and looking downcast.

“I could try healing you a little, I think I have some mana back,” Kazuma said, raising a hand and taking a step forward.

“Save it, you look half dead,” Rin said with a slight shake of her head. “Besides, someone supposedly coming with meds of some kind that will heal everyone.”

“They called her an Archpriest, maybe she has magic too?” Dust said hopefully. He looked back to Rin anxiously. “I just hope they can fix Rin up, I’m worried about her…”

“I’ll be fine,” Rin said quietly, laying her head back down. “Just need some rest…”

“What about Lan, Lolisa?” Kazuma asked, thinking of the last time he’d seen the pilot, and Lolisa, right before she’d passed out.

“Lan’s fine, barely a scratch on her. She’s trying to salvage what she can from the wreck,” Dust said. “But Lolisa…they dunno if she’s gonna make it.”

“What!? She was fine last I…” Kazuma trailed off, then swallowed. Holy water. They’d been making Holy Water. And Lolisa… “Where is she?!”

“Two stalls down. They’ve got her on life support, but-” Dust began, but Kazuma was hobbling over as fast as his aching body could manage. The first cubicle he peeked in had an unconscious Cecily, who looked fine, just sleeping. He didn’t know the woman super well, but he owed her a lot for her willingness to help save Iris.

Staggering to the next curtain, Kazuma pulled it open to reveal a body completely swathed in bandages, laying on a cot with an IV in and a vitals monitor that showed a weak pulse.

“Lolisa!” Kazuma gasped, hurrying over. As he did so, the body stirred slightly, and eyes that were so bloodshot they looked like bloodstains opened.

“K-kazuma…” Lolisa whispered. “Don’t…touch…”

Hesitating, Kazuma glanced at the chart at the foot of the bed. He caught sight of “burns, 90% of body.”

“Oh hell…what…was it?” Kazuma sat down heavily on the bedside, feeling dazed and horrified.

“It’s…ok. W-worth,” Lolisa gasped. “P-priest…tried…heal me…hurt…hurt so bad…”

“Shit, is there no way to heal you?” Kazuma asked, feeling desperate. He pulled up his Adventurer’s card. He had a lot of skill points now: apparently, the assist with Belida had been enough to take him all the way to level 22.

“N-no,” Lolisa whispered, and closed her eyes. Feeling helpless, Kazuma just sat there, looking down at her, while her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Was this how it ended for the brave succubus? She had to have known that helping to make Holy Water was going to do horrible things to her, but she’d done it anyway. For a demon, she was remarkably altruistic. It didn’t seem right at all.

For long minutes, Kazuma sat there, feeling both hopeless and drained. They’d won the battle, Iris was safe, better than safe, but the cost had been catastrophic.

Then, someone barged into the hospital tent and shouted, “Never fear! Aqua is here!”

“What a jerk,” Kazuma grumbled, not bothering to look up from Lolisa. He heard some more noises behind him, including more of that obnoxious woman who’d come into the hospital like she was some sort of hero. The noises got louder and louder, and finally Kazuma had enough. He stood up and stalked over to the curtain, just as it was thrown back.

A girl looked up at him, and the first thing Kazuma noticed was her red eyes. Crimson orbs like that only came from one kind of person, and he took a step backwards involuntarily. Despite the fact that the girl he was looking at was slender and came up only to his chin, she was clearly a Crimson Demon by the way she was dressed and armed. No one else was going to carry around a sword bigger than she was or be dressed in red and black armor.

“Hmph. Are you hurt too?” the girl demanded of him, looking him up and down.

“No, I just like wearing bandages and limping for fun,” Kazuma snapped at her.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Great, another smart ass Outsider. Look, do you want to be healed or not?”

Before Kazuma could formulate a reply, a woman in blue with a scandalously short skirt bounced up, looking outrageously happy for someone in a hospital. “Hey Megumin, anyone else to take care of? I swear, it still smells like demon in here!”

“Who asked you?” Kazuma demanded. “And keep it down, would you? Lolisa’s trying to sleep!”

“No one needs to sleep when I’m here!” the second woman, Aqua by her coloring, grinned at Kazuma. “No one needs to sleep, because the super amazing goddess of the Axis Cult is here! Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright!”

Behind Kazuma, Lolisa let out a whimper. “It burns…the light…it burns…”

Kazuma’s eyes went wide, but Aqua suddenly scowled. “A-ha! I knew it smelled like demon! Right, just let me at her! I’ll have her exorcized in no-”

On reflex, Kazuma slapped Aqua. “Don’t you dare!”

“Waaaaaaa!” Aqua wailed, at the same time as Kazuma found himself pinned to the floor with a sword in his face.

“Don’t you DARE hurt Aqua!” Megumin snarled. “I’m the only one allowed to do that!”

“Get off of me!” Kazuma snarled, trying and failing to shove Megumin off of him. She might look like she weighed 40 kilos soaking wet, but she was frighteningly strong. “Lolisa saved all our lives!”

“Huh? How could a smelly demon do that? I bet she has you mind controlled!” Aqua huffed, reaching down to touch Kazuma’s forehead. “Heal! Break Curse!”

Instantly, a tinglingwave washed over Kazuma, and he felt much better. He blinked in shock, but put out a hand. “Bind!”

Electrical cords snapped from the equipment around them, wrapping themselves around Megumin, who squawked in outrage. Kazuma pushed the now cocooned girl off him, then stood up and yanked Aqua back from Lolisa by her ear. “Don’t go near her! Holy magic hurts her!”

“OWOWOWOWOW! I know that! She’s a demon! I’m going to exorcize her”! Aqua squealed.

“Don’t you dare! If you think of harming one hair on her head, I’ll-” Kazuma trailed off as Megumin got out of her restraints, rising to her feet with murder in her eyes. “Oh shit…”

Before Megumin could strike, an enormous armored figure appeared, grabbing Megumin’s sword and tossing it away, then picking her up by the collar, at the same time as they grabbed Aqua and pried her from Kazuma’s grip.

“Lady Megumin, Goddess Aqua, I must insist you calm down,” the giant blonde woman said in firm but polite tones. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding.”

“Put me down!” Megumin snarled, writhing in the woman’s grip. “Just because you’re an overgrown gorilla doesn’t mean you get to manhandle me! Give me back my sword!”

“Darkness, come on! It’s just one demon! She needs a good exorcizing!” Aqua whined.

“Wait, I know you!” Kazuma said, pointing at the giant of a woman. She looked like she was 2 meters tall even without that power armor on, but with it she had to stoop slightly, even though the tent roof was 2.5 meters tall at least. “You’re that other knight who fought with Alice! I mean, uh, Queen Iris!”

“I have that honor,” Darkness agreed, nodding. She looked at Megumin and Aqua, who were both struggling and pouting, and sighed heavily. “And this is his Highness, Kazuma Squirtgun Sato.”

The name made Kazuma wince, especially when Megumin and Aqua both stopped struggling to laugh at him.

“Squirtgun? And people make fun of Crimson Demon names,” Megumin said, smirking at Kazuma. “Even for an outsider, that’s just completely stupid!”

“Squirtgun? What, is it so tiny you had to name him after that,” Aqua tittered, putting a hand to her mouth.

“H-hey! It’s perfectly normal, I’ll have you know!” Kazuma snapped. “I, uh, I just…I sort of, uh…used Basic Water magic to weaken Beldia, so…uh…it sort of looked like a squirtgun…”

“Huh? How could basic water magic weaken a dullahan?” Aqua asked.

Megumin, however, had stopped laughing, and looked impressed. “We heard about that. That was you? Wait, then that demon behind you…”

“I couldn’t stand, neither could Cecily. We were already hit with Mind Down. Lolisa held us up while we hosed Belida down with Holy Water,” Kazuma said quietly. He looked behind him. “But, well…Lolisa…she’s a demon. Holy Water hurts her too…she’s burned all over her body.”

Aqua sniffled, looking like someone had just ruined her day. “That’s…that’s so sad…”

“I know,” Kazuma’s shoulders slumped. “You’re probably that Arch Priest everyone said would heal everyone, but her…” He swallowed. “Could you…even help a demon?”

“No,” Aqua said, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I…I’m sorry I said I’d exorcize her…she…well. She doesn’t sound like much of a demon…”

“You can put us down now, Darkness,” Megumin said quietly. “We’ll go help the others. Aqua? Maybe, um, stay away from Lolisa?”

“Yeah,” Aqua agreed as Darkness set them both on their feet. They quietly went off to heal the rest of the wounded, while Kazuma went over to kneel by Lolisa’s side again. He heard heavy footsteps, and looked up to see Darkness hovering over them.

“It does not seem right,” Darkness said with a heavy sigh, taking a knee herself. She was actually gorgeous now that Kazuma got a good look at her, with fine high cheekbones and near flawless skin. Her hair was long enough that it hung in a ponytail past her shoulders, and her blue eyes were clear and full of empathy. “We can be healed by Lady Aqua, but this girl, who gave so much…”

“Yeah,” Kazuma said. Then he blinked. “Wait…hold on a sec…”

He leaned forward over the bed, and heard Darkness gasp behind him. Then, he pressed his lips to Lolisa’s. At first, nothing happened. Then her lips greedily began to suck at his, her tongue darting into his mouth. A wonderful sensation washed over Kazuma, and his knees trembled. He could feel mana flowing out of him, but he didn’t care. Aqua had restored his reserves, so he was going to be just fine. He would-

Blinking, Kazuma looked around at a sea of stars. He was sitting in the void in a silver chair, nothing around him but empty blackness. That, and-

“Chris?” Kazuma asked, blinking slightly at the woman sitting across from him. She looked like Chris, anyway, though she didn’t have the scar, and her bust was bigger, the facial features were a dead ringer, though instead of Chris’ tube top and hot pants, this woman was dressed in a dark gray robe, with a feathered mantle and dark headdress.

“So much for disguises,” Chris chuckled. She reached up, running a finger over her right check. It came away coated in makeup, and revealed the scar she had. She winked at Kazuma. “Guess it doesn’t work as well when you met my Avatar first.”

“Avatar? Wait, are you…are you alive?” Kazuma asked, swallowing and thinking of the last time he’d seen Chris, bleeding out in the jungle, Slyvia and her commandos right behind them.

“Yes and no. The person you met was just a projection of myself. And, well, Chris isn’t the name most would know me by,” Chris said. She gave Kazuma a sad smile. “Have you figured it out?”

“Uh, no. What were you doing in that basement, anyway?” Kazuma asked, tilting his head to one side. “I never had time to really think about it, but it was really weird.”

“It was. Lucky timing. I’d just worked up enough power to escape, however briefly, and there you were.” Chris smiled sadly, shaking her head, putting one hand to her breast. “I was doing the same thing Iris was, for that is her true name.”

“I know. She remembered it when we got back to Belzerg,” Kazuma said with a slow nod. “But how did you- wait. The same thing as her? You were in one of those mana harvesters?”

Chris nodded, leaning back in her chair, putting one hand to her forehead. “Yes. And I am trapped there still. You would know me as Eris. Goddess of Fortune…and the Moon.”

“Holy shit,” Kazuma breathed, then colored. “I mean, uh, s-sorry, your holiness.”

“It’s fine,” Chris, or rather, Eris said, making a dismissive motion. “It’s good you reached the planet before you died. I just wanted to let you know before you passed on, that…you have given this world hope, Kazuma. Though you fell in battle against demons, with Iris free, there is yet real hope that one day, this world can be healed. I may be the last goddess, but-”

“Aside from Aqua,” Kazuma said. “And, uh, I’m dead? How?! I was just healed!”

Eris blinked rapidly. “Aside from…? But, Aqua’s been dead for centuries, just like all the other gods. I’m the last goddess of Belzerg.”

“Well then who was the blue haired bimbo that just healed me and all the other people in the hospital?” Kazuma demanded.

Eris’ eyes went wide, and then, a voice spoke into the void.

“Kazuma!? Kazuma, are you there!? Wake up! I tried the resurrection spell, but it’s not-”

“SENPAI!?” Eris gasped, jumping to her feet. “Senpai, you’re-”

“Eris?! What are you-”

“Senpai, we’re alive!” Eris gasped, throwing her arms open wide to the heavens. “You’re alive! How, where…?!”

“I was trapped in an ice cube for a thousand years or something, I dunno, Wiz did it. But you-”

“Wiz?! The Ice Witch?!” Eris gasped, sounding baffled. “But how…?”

“Uh, ladies, I hate to interrupt, but can someone tell me what the hell is going on, and why I’m dead!?” Kazuma demanded, getting to his feet and looking around.

“Because you kissed a half dead succubus, moron! Now she’s crying and saying she’s killed you! What did you think was going to happen!?” Aqua demanded.

Eris turned and gave Kazuma a dirty look. “Seriously? You kissed a succubus?”

“She’s a good one! She helped me kill Belida!” Kazuma snapped.

“The only good demon is a dead demon,” Eris said coldly. Then she blinked. “Wait, you killed Belida?!”

“Eh, I got an assist, it was mostly Iris. But hurry up and bring me back! It wasn’t Lolisa’s fault,” Kazuma huffed.

“Hold on, what about Eris!? Where are you?!” Aqua demanded. “If both of us are alive, then we can kick the Devil King’s butt and save the world!”

“He died hundreds of years ago,” Eris said tiredly. She shook her head. “There isn’t much time. Aqua, I’m imprisoned on the moon. I fled there with a handful of survivors when Belzerg fell, along with the Royal Heir of Belzerg. We lasted for a few hundred years, before Slyvia created ships to come and conquer us. But if you’re free…Aqua, you have to save the world!”

“We’re working on it. One asshole  down, six to go,” Kazuma said with a nod.

“Five, Wiz is a good guy!” Aqua said cheerily. Then her tone sobered. “But Eris…I don’t know how to get to the moon…”

“I mean I did just come from there, you just need a ship,” Kazuma said with a shrug. “But I think we got other problems right now.”

“Yes. Save the world, Aqua, I may have to take my own life to deny Silvia power,” Eris said, sounding dejected. “If I do-”

“Fuck that!” Kazuma snapped, turning to Eris. He put his hands on her shoulders as she started, looking up at his face. “We got Iris out. Your turn next. We’ll handle things here, then come for you. Whether it’s a teleport, or space ship, or whatever. No one left behind. Especially not you.”

Eris blinked at Kazuma, then tears filled her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you…take good care of Aqua and Iris…you’re a good man, Kazuma Sato.”

“Just don’t call me Squirtgun,” Kazuma said, feeling choked up.

“Squirtgun?” Eris asked, stepping back and wiping a tear from her eye.

“He squirted Beldia to death, it’s really funny,” Aqua informed. “Eris, are you sure I can’t bring you back too?”

“No, this is just a piece of me I gave to Kazuma. I don’t even know if I can tell the rest of myself still trapped on the Moon, but…I’ll hold out. Somehow. Until you come,” Eris promised, taking Kazuma’s hands. “Now go. Sounds like you’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah, OK,” Kazuma agreed. He turned to the void. “So how does this-”

“-work.” Kazuma blinked, looking up at the worried face of Aqua. “Huh.”

“KAZUMA!” A pink blur shoved Aqua aside, and Lolisa’s tear streaked face looked down at him. “Y-you big dummy! I told you not to touch me! B-but then you kissed me! I-I t-tried not to, b-but I couldn’t help myself, a-and…”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Kazuma said, giving Lolisa a dopey grin. “Turns out we had a cheat code.”

“You jerk,” Lolisa sniffled, pounding a fist onto Kazuma’s chest. He groaned slightly, and she gasped. “S-sorry!”

“No, it’s fine, I just…” Kazuma looked down at himself and grimaced. “I think I need a new  hospital gown…”

“Oh, uh…w-well…” Lolisa blushed and looked away. “S-sorry. It’s, um, it’s what happens when a succubus drains you…”

“Does it count as losing my v-card?” Kazuma joked.

“Gross,” Aqua muttered in the background.

For her part, Lolisa blushed and looked away. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to, um…that is…”

“Oh relax,” Kazuma sighed and held up a hand. “Help me up?”

Lolisa pulled Kazuma to a sitting position, and he looked over Aqua, who was beaming at both of them. “Well, thanks for bringing me back. And not killing Lolisa, I guess.”

“I’ll make an exception for her. Normally I would kill any stinky demons I found, but she was so sad you were dead…I think she’s nice!” Aqua declared, folding her arms over her chest.

“T-thanks,” Lolisa muttered. She gave Kazuma a nervous smile. “A-and…thank you…I-I probably would have died, but…I didn’t want to kill anyone else… not…not after…” she touched the back of her neck, and grimaced.

“Yeah, well, I think things are getting a little better around here.” Kazuma glanced around. “Where’s Iris?”

“Her Majesty is tending to the troops, and planning our strategy,” Darkness said, and everyone craned their necks to look over at her. She was standing with Megumin and two other Crimson Demon Girls, most of the dividers for the hospital having been taken down. Apparently, Aqua had healed every single patient, so they were packing things up. “Santomon Chemicals is building up for an attack, and rumor has it that Hans himself will take the field.”

“That disgusting piece of filth,” Aqua growled. “I might be willing to forgive Wiz, and even this nice succubus, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did to my followers!”

“Even I think Hans is disgusting,” Lolisa agreed with a shudder. “He’s the reason the sky and water are poisoned…he did it deliberately, you know. It wasn’t just about the profits.”

With a groan, Kazuma started to get to his feet. Lolisa jumped to her feet with a flutter of wings, and helped him up, looking concerned. “Are you…?”

“Fine, I just wanted a pretty girl to help me,” Kazuma joked, then winced. “Ugh, I still feel sore…”

“I healed your wounds and replenished your mana, but your spirit will take time to recover,” Aqua warned. “You’ve died, and gotten Mind Down twice in one day. You need to rest.”

“No time for that,” Kazuma sighed, but he let himself lean on Lolisa anyway. “Gotta find Iris. There’s work to do…”

“I-I’ll make sure he rests, Goddess,” Lolisa promised. She gave Kazuma a shy smile. “He…he’s a good man.”

“To see him force himself upon an unconscious girl,” Darkness muttered. “He seems to me to be a pervert…”

“I was trying to heal her!” Kazuma protested. “I remembered succubi transfer mana through-”

“Pervert,” Megumin agreed with a nod.

“Definitely a pervert,” Aqua added.

“You’re all jerks,” Kazuma said, and flipped them all off.

“Hey! Not in front of Komekko!” Megumin snapped, covering the littlest Crimson Demon’s eyes with a hand.

“I-I don’t mind, he saved my life,” Lolisa protested. She turned Kazuma back towards the bed. “Come on, I’ll wash you off, then get you some food.”

“Maybe we should get a male nurse,” Megumin called. “Kazutrash might try something on you again.”

“I’m not bringing you back again if you die from being a pervert again, Kazuma!” Aqua called.

“I wonder if I could convince Claire to molest me in my sleep,” Darkness muttered.

“I’m surrounded by perverts,” Megumin complained. “Aqua, do you have that edible soap still?”

“Of course!”

Kazuma tuned it out as the group wandered off, and Lolisa laid him down on the bed. He really did feel completely drained.

“Um, if you mind, I could get someone else to help you,” Lolisa offered. “I-I’m full now, so I won’t kill you on accident, but-”

“What guy doesn’t want a sponge bath from a beautiful woman?” Kazuma said with a yawn. The last thing he saw before he passed out again was Lolisa’s blush and grin.

When he did sleep, he dreamed of a world with blue skies, green grass, and laying on the grass with Iris on one side, Lia on the other.

And for once, it didn’t feel like a hopeless daydream.

Second Archon War: Sapientia Oromasdis 2

Sapientia Oromasdis 2: On the Wings of a Butterfly

Beta’d and edited by: Dr_Feelgood, Philosophysics, October Day, The Grand Cogitator, and Desert Chocolate

She opened her eyes and found herself in the Sanctuary of Surasthana. The Grand Sage sneered up at her as she floated within her prison. “Did you think I would ever let you go? You’re trapped here, forever. Would that Greater Lord Rukkhadevata had lived and you had died! You’re worthless, weak, pathetic! A horrible excuse of an archon! I would have been glad to be rid of you forever!”

Nahida tried to cry out, tried to protest, tried to say that she wanted to be a good Archon, that she wanted to remain with Doctor Bashir and Qiqi and Farasha, that she-

This is a dream. You know this. Why are you so afraid?

Nahida stepped out of herself, turning to face her within the prison.

“I’ve not left Sumeru City in 500 years. Perhaps I fear the unknown,” she told her other self. This version was dressed in the clothes Bashir had given her, her ears hidden, her clothes a simple dress of green instead of her fine robes.

“The unknown is the root of all fears, but I am an Archon, not a frightened little girl. I can’t be held captive by my fears,” she told her imprisoned self.

“What if the people of Sumeru need me? What will they do without their Archon? Am I even still a god, if I am no longer on Teyvat? What of my Aspect and Throne?” she asked her disguised self. “Why do you run from your duty? Do you wish to be human?”

“Yes,” Nahida admitted to the imprisoned god. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a little human girl. To have parents, and to grow up in Sumeru City. Maybe my family would be poor, and life would be hard, and I would eventually grow old, and die. But humans have so many experiences in their brief lives. What experiences have I had, trapped in the Sanctuary?”

She floated beside the sage, putting a hand on his robes. “The people of Sumeru rejected me as Archon. Perhaps that is why I have been sent to Baghdad.”

“I don’t know that. I should still look for a way back,” Nahida said from within her prison. “Beelzebul is here, or one like her. Perhaps I should seek her out.”

“They did not offer me aid for 500 years, and I do not know if this is the same Electro Archon. It would be foolish to act without knowledge,” Nahida said as she stepped up to the tree.

Slowly, she nodded down at herself. “This is true. But it still raises the question of why I had this dream. My dreams have been largely similar for most of my existence. I dream of freedom, of friends, of a world where I am loved. Perhaps this is all but a dream, where I have been given all I want.”

“It could be,” Nahida agreed, putting a hand to her chin. “It’s like if you found a piece of delicious cake when you were very hungry. But the cake is sitting on the ground, and you don’t know who made it, who it’s for, or even if it’s edible. But you’re very hungry. Should you eat the delicious cake? Or should you wait, and find out who owns it, or what it’s made of?”

“You just really want cake,” Nahida told herself. “It doesn’t hurt that I’ve never had any.”

“The question remains though, do I attempt to find a way back to Sumeru City?” Nahida mused, floating up to be on eye level with her imprisoned self.

“It would be wise to do so. Currently, I don’t even know what’s possible in this world, or very much about it.”

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” Nahida agreed, and smiled.

“”Go to the library!””

With that, Nahida opened her eyes, and gently pried Qiqi’s arms from around her. The little girl was ice cold, and the Demon that had latched on to her spirit was still there, but Nahida hadn’t minded needing to share a bed with her. There was a bit of drool on her shoulder, but she merely smiled and used a corner of the blanket to wipe it off. While spitting on someone was traditionally considered an insult in Sumeru City, the Eremites of the desert saw giving someone your own moisture as a sign of respect, as water was so valuable in the desert.

In this case, Nahida simply thought Qiqi was rather adorable. Besides, she’d never shared a bed with anyone, and knew that this was a traditional thing for siblings or close family members to do, especially as children.

The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but Nahida could already sense Doctor Bashir getting up and moving about. He had some rather odd dreams the night before. It was rather interesting, seeing mortals dream. Normally, all dreams in Sumeru went into the Akasha, so that mortal minds never experienced them within Nahida’s domain. Last night, the Doctor had dreamed of driving one of those strange wagons, only he had been unable to stop it, and he had gone careening through the streets. In his next dream, he’d seen himself at a place like the Akadeyma, only he’d been unable to find a class, and he had been unable to understand anyone he spoke to.

The last dream had involved Farasha, and Nahida had quickly decided that this dream was private, and she neither needed nor wanted to know anything more about it.

Still, she’d also monitored Qiqi’s dreams, though those had been closer to nightmares. Nahida had chased those off, even though it had involved a brief scuffle with Qiqi’s Demon. At first, Nahida had been rather frightened, finding herself in a dark, stifling room, where something horrible was coming down the stairs to torment Qiqi.

Nahida had slipped in, finding the little girl curled up in a ball and sobbing quietly. The Demon had been feeding the nightmare to Qiqi, and Nahida had gotten a better feel for what it was. It was one of a legion of demons, or perhaps a small fragment of a larger demon, or even perhaps a tendril of a great demon influencing Qiqi’s soul. Whatever it was, it was powerful, and gave off the impression of sucking in all heat, spreading lifeless cold throughout many worlds.

What the demon looked like had been hard to conceptualize. In the end, Nahida thought of it as a great black ice crystal with many spiky protrusions, one of which pierced Qiqi’s soul. She had gone into Qiqi’s dream, taking the little girl’s hand, and drawing her to her feet.

“It’s alright. I’m here. I’ll protect you,” Nahida had told Qiqi, but she had been unable to listen, and the Demon had taken notice of Nahida. It had sent waves of power and ice for Nahida, and she had felt fear stir in her heart. Taking a stand, she’d put herself between Qiqi and the Demon.

“No! I forbid it!” Nahida had declared, fearing that the icy spikes would pierce her own body.

Instead, the barrier of spiritual energy she’d woven around Qiqi shattered the ice, and broke the connection, however temporarily, between Qiqi’s mind and the Demon’s nightmares. Then, Nahida had boxed up the nightmare, and hidden it away.

That done, Qiqi had simply floated there listlessly, shivering slightly and looking like an empty husk.

“Why don’t you share one of my dreams?” Nahida said, taking Qiqi’s hand again. “I know a wonderful dream. Here, let me show it to you…”

When I woke up, I was riding in the flower carriage…

With that simple thought, Nahida touched Qiqi’s mind, and wove a dreamscape that she recalled fondly. The empty void vanished, and a carpet of flowers rolled out around them.

“Ohhh,” Qiqi whispered, looking around, her eyes going wide. “Pretty…”

The meadow extended far into the distance, where it met a dark green smudge, like a painting of a forest. In dreams, Nahida noted that details were often vague and hard to see, and that if she tried too hard to bring them into sharp focus, they actually ended up less convincing. So instead, the flowers around her were more like an impressionist painting of flowers, with just a hint of fragrance in the air, the suggestion of a gentle breeze, and a brush of warm sunlight on their skin.

“Hehe, come on!” Nahida said, taking Qiqi’s hand. “I’ve never gotten to show anyone else my dream before! I want you to meet my friends!”

In the dream, Qiqi’s hands were cold, but that wasn’t right. That was the influence of the Demon, and it wasn’t welcome in Nahida’s dream. Gently, Nahida pried loose another of the Demon’s tendrils. To her shock, it shrank back at her touch, and its power seemed… unfocused. Weak, even. As if it could only brush the world of dreams, not truly control them. In fact, it seemed to only be adjusting Qiqi’s physical brain, instead of touching her soul or spirit. That was odd. And very inefficient when it came to dreams. Washing away a few hormones or chemicals wasn’t difficult; it took barely any effort at all.

And so, Nahida led Qiqi through the flowery meadow, where they skipped along, a smile on Qiqi’s lips as she looked around with wide, excited eyes. Birds flew down with flower crowns, placing them upon the two girls' heads. Squirrels, rabbits, mice, and other animals scampered about them happily, running through the grass and flowers.

Nahida led Qiqi to a table, where the Knight of Flowers and his court waited for them, serving them tea and cakes. It wasn’t real, of course. It was just a dream. A world Nahida had created to help her escape from the dull horror of her daily life. But somehow, having Qiqi share the dream with her made it more real.

At the same time, Nahida’s mind did a thousand other things of course. She had her own dream of being trapped in the Sanctuary of Surasthana and conversing with herself, and monitored the myriad dreams of those in Baghdad. For the most part, she didn’t interfere with those dreams, simply watched them. They were fascinating but also terrifying. So many nightmares. So many dreams of despair, anxiety, fear, and being trapped.

What has happened to these people to make them so fearful? Nahida wondered, and she watched the dreams, especially those of the children. For now, only watching, save for Qiqi who shared her bed, but the wise always learned everything they could before they acted.

Still though, it was time to leave the world of dreams behind, and Nahida gently shook Qiqi’s shoulder. “Wake up, it’s time to wake up.”

With a soft moan, Qiqi slowly opened her eyes, looking groggy and dazed still. She focused on Nahida for a moment, then just lay there, staring at the ceiling, her gaze as unfocused as it usually was.

“Come on, you have to wake up and get dressed,” Nahida urged, scrambling over Qiqi to the beside. With some coaxing, she got Qiqi up, and Nahida escorted her to the bathroom to complete her toilet. Fortunately, Qiqi was able to take care of her business on her own, as Nahida wasn’t really sure how all that worked. She probably could go to the bathroom if she really wanted to, but generally, she just converted her waste to energy or expelled it as a gas.

She sometimes giggled when she thought about farting, but really she just breathed it out through her lungs like a plant. She was quite fascinated by the concept of making a dookie, but plants didn’t do that, and from a biochemistry standpoint, Nahida was closer to a sentient plant than a human.

Which didn’t mean she didn’t want cake. And she was sort of interested in learning how to go to the bathroom in more than a theoretical fashion. There were so many funny jokes you could make about going potty! She’d have to try a few on Farasha and Doctor Bashir to see what they thought of them.

“Hey Qiqi, what did one toilet say to another?” Nahida asked as she helped Qiqi get dressed. By which she meant she was dressing Qiqi as she stood there.

Qiqi just blinked at Nahida, apparently not understanding the question.

“You look pooped!” Nahida giggled.

Her only response was a slow blink from Qiqi, and then to her horror, a snort and guffaw from behind her.

Nahida spun about to see Doctor Bashir in the doorway, covering his mouth and looking highly amused, his dark eyes twinkling.

“Um, I was teaching Qiqi about jokes,” Nahida said, blushing herself and feeling abashed.

“Really?” Bashir asked, coming over and kneeling down to straighten Qiqi’s dress. “Perhaps I should tell a joke then. Farasha has taught me enough. Do you like jokes, Nahida?”

Nahida nodded eagerly. “Yes! What are your best ones?”

“What did the doctor tell his patient who had a urinary tract infection?” Bashir asked, still grinning as he turned to look at Nahida.

Instantly, Nahida recited, “Drink plenty of water, and drinks such as Henna Berry since it’s a natural diuretic. Avoid acidic drinks like coffee or bulle fruit juice, or other citrus as they can irritate the bladder. Use a heating pad to promote urination and relieve pain.”

Doctor Bashir blinked at Nahida. “Ah, yes. That’s correct. However, as this is a joke, the line would be ‘urine trouble.’”

That got Nahida to blush again, as well as giggle. “I get it! Since ‘urine trouble’ sounds like ‘you’re in trouble!’ That’s an excellent joke.”

“Why thank you, it’s one of my favorites,” Doctor Bashir agreed. Then he tilted his head to one side slightly and frowned. “Where did you learn how to treat a urinary tract infection? Are you prone to them? You’re rather young for that.”

“Um, one of the women who took care of me had them frequently,” Nahida said hastily. It was true after all: 200 years ago, Hana had been her caretaker for many years and had experienced frequent bladder infections. Nahida had surreptitiously cleansed them whenever Hana had come to bathe her or bring her something to eat, which had meant that Hana had been eager to see Nahida more often. She died 168 years ago from old age, having worked with Nahida for over 50 years, until she was an old grandmother. Nahida had cried then, as she had many times over the centuries when humans who had shown her kindness had passed away.

“I see, well, that is good knowledge to have,” Bashir agreed, getting to his feet. “Come, the sun will be up soon, it’s time for morning prayers.”

Nahida slipped her hand into Bashir’s as he took Qiqi’s hand, and led them from their room to the prayer room where they got their mats and laid them out. Just as Nahida was about to kneel and pretend to pray, Doctor Bashir asked,

“What is Henna Berry juice? I’ve never heard of it, or bulle fruit.”

“Uh, perhaps if we go to the market, I could show you?” Nahida offered, blushing again. Did they not have those fruits here? Bulle fruit was imported from Fontaine, and Henna Berries grew in the desert. She wasn’t certain what plants grew in this land yet.

“Hmm, perhaps later,” Bashir agreed, and  they knelt together, Bashir reciting the prayers, Qiqi just sort of staring at the wall they were facing, and Nahida contemplating just what sort of God Allah was, to let his people live in such fear.

After prayers, they went downstairs, where Bashir got out some hard-boiled eggs from the refrigerator, a device that fascinated Nahida as she could sense no Cryo energy from it, and because that was where the popsicles were, and put it on the table. He also got some fried flatbread from the pantry, along with oil and honey, and they all sat down for breakfast.

Just as Nahida sat down to eat, she sensed a dark and deadly presence, and stiffened, looking up in fear, Bashir noticed her expression and looked up in alarm. The door banged open a moment later, and a cheery voice called, “Good morning~!”

Farasha strode into the room, tossing her hat onto the table and propping her spear against the wall. “How’s my two favorite little girls doing today? Guess what I bought this morning!”

Farasha presented a small paper box, and Nahida stood up in her chair and clapped excitedly. “Cake!”

“Thank you, Farasha,” Bashir said, smiling and going over to take the cake. “We’ll have some with lunch.”

Despite her best intentions, Nahida let out a disappointed noise.

“Aw, come on Saeed, it was her birthday yesterday! Let the kid have some cake!” Farasha said, going over to stand next to Nahida and giving what Nahida could only describe as a hilariously overexaggerated expression of sorrow.

“It’s alright, cake lacks many of the necessary nutrients, and is best eaten in moderation and not as a main course,” Nahida said with a heavy sigh.

Farasha gave her a confused expression. “Whose side are you on, kid? Think about it: caaaaake!”

“Nahida is right, Farasha,” Bashir said firmly. “There is no need for-”

“Cake?” Qiqi said suddenly, looking up from staring at her plate of bread. “Qiqi eat cake?”

“-us to wait. We’ll have cake right now,” Bashir said smoothly, giving Qiqi a pleased grin.

“You are such a sucker,” Farasha chuckled, and she elbowed Nahida. “If you’d made puppy dog eyes at him, he’d totally have folded.”

“Is that what that is called? Why would you make that expression like you’ve witnessed a great tragedy?” Nahida asked.

Farasha’s expression went completely blank. “Trust me, Nahida. That’s not what you’d look like if you’d seen something awful. Eat your cake.”

Nahida shrank in her chair, giving Bashir a shaky smile as he served her a slice of the cake. The aura of death and pain emanating from Farasha was both disturbing and intimidating, and Nahida wasn’t so sure she wanted to eat cake anymore.

“Yay,” Qiqi said as Bashir gave her a piece. “Cake.”

Bashir took a piece for himself and sat down. “Well, should we sing again?”

“Absolutely!” Farasha said, banishing the terrible emptiness from her face and smiling at Nahida. “After all, a birthday only comes once a year!”

“T-that is the nature of birthdays,” Nahida agreed, giving Farasha a nervous smile. Her Demon was so…evil. So was Qiqi’s. What should Nahida do? She wasn’t like Morax or Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. She didn’t know anything about banishing evil or fighting monsters. No wonder the sages reviled her. She was a worthless Archon.

A tear formed in Nahida’s eyes, and she sniffed, wiping them away. What should she do? Being here felt so wonderful, but she was betraying her people and the trust they had put in her, and there was a great evil here that she felt powerless against.

“Hey, it’s alright, baby girl! Whatever happened in your past, you’ve got people who care about you here now. So smile! It’s your birthday, and you can cry if you want to.”

Nahida started as Farasha pulled her into a hug, pressing Nahida’s head to her shoulder and giving her a tight squeeze. Tentatively, Nahida hugged her back. Until yesterday, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted someone to hug her or touch her. Technically, Nahida wasn’t a human child, and didn’t have the same developmental requirements that a child did, such as physical contact with a loving caregiver.

But then… it did feel wonderful. She didn’t say anything, just hugging Farasha back as she and Bashir sang a soft version of “Happy Birthday.”

When they finished, Nahida opened her eyes and smiled at Farasha. Then they turned to the table.

There, they saw Qiqi, whose entire face was absolutely covered in frosting, along with the front of her dress. She had abandoned her fork, and seemed to have smashed her face directly into the cake. Actually, she seemed to be wearing more of the cake than she’d eaten.

“Cake,” Qiqi said, and actually sounded happy for once.

Farasha snorted with laughter and pulled out a device Nahida hadn’t seen before. “I have to get a picture of this.”

“I hope you have slightly better table manners,” Bashir told Nahida, sounding exasperated as he stood to get a cloth to wipe Qiqi’s face with.

Nahida delicately used her fork to carve off a small bite of cake, and popped it in her mouth. She let out a gasp, putting a hand to her cheek as her eyes twinkled with delight. “It’s so good!”

“It’s coconut,” Farasha told her, as clicking noises came from the little device. She showed it to Nahida, and Nahida let out a gasp of delight. There was a little picture of a cake-coated Qiqi, and others of Bashir wiping her face off, which were rather adorable.

“Let me try!” Nahida said eagerly, and used her fingers to make a small window. “Click!”

“Too cute,” Farasha laughed, and snapped a picture of Nahida. Nahida took some of her in turn, then turned to Bashir and snapped a few more, along with Qiqi.

“Cocogoat,” Qiqi said, pointing to the box. “Qiqi cocogoat.”

“Coconut,” Bashir said, cutting a smaller slice of cake, which he fed to Qiqi this time. “Say ‘Coconut.”

“Cocogoat,” Qiqi insisted, but ate the cake happily enough.

“You want to try to take a real picture?” Farasha said, holding up her device.

“I figured out the principle. You’re capturing an image of light and recording it like canned knowledge using Electro. I can’t use Electro, but since Dendro is related to photosynthesis, I was able to use that principle to make a digital recording, see!” Nahida said eagerly, then spread her hands wide, the light paintings she’d recorded flashing up in the air above them.

Bashir gaped open-mouthed, the fork he was holding dropping from his fingers to ping on the table, while Farasha’s eyes went wide. Qiqi looked disappointed she wasn’t getting more cake, then looked up. Seeing herself, she pointed. “Qiqi. Cocogoat.”

“That’s…quite remarkable,” Bashir managed after a moment, with Nahida already blushing and realizing she’d done something that little human girls, even Vision Holders, probably couldn’t manage.

Desperately, Nahida searched for a change of topic. A joke wouldn’t work, they were already suspicious. Instead, she blurted, “Can we go to the library?”

“I have to tend to my practice today, I’m afraid. I have a number of patients I need to see,” Bashir said apologetically.

“I could take them!” Farasha offered brightly. “Qiqi too. I should probably get her registered. People will figure out there’s something up with her sooner or later.”

“Registered?” Nahida asked. “Do they keep a list of Vision Holders?” The Akademiya did that, as did most civilized nations. Keeping track of Visions holders was important, as their abilities made them an asset in times of crisis, as well as made them a potential liability if they were to go rogue.

“We do. And I just so happen to be in charge of the welcoming committee! Maybe I can make them buy you another cake,” Farasha said with a grin and a wink.

“I am not sure, perhaps I should accompany you, and register myself as Nahida’s guardian,” Bashir said, sounding worried about something, and looking as though he was biting back words.

“Ha! They wouldn’t dare tell me no. I’ll tell them you’ve adopted her too, and anyone who disagrees can submit their complaints to me in person,” Farasha said dismissively.

There were a lot of questions Nahida wanted to ask, but she decided she’d be best served by going to the library and reading.

After breakfast, Farasha got Qiqi cleaned up and changed, and Bashir went down from the living quarters to the doctor's office below to get ready for his patients. Farasha took the two girls out the back way, with the city already awake, with those strange wagons rumbling around and emitting their smelly gasses.

“Farasha, what are those?” Nahida asked, pointing to one.

“What, you mean the Toyota?” Farasha asked, frowning at the vehicle. “Sorry, don’t have a car. I probably could get one, but I’d rather walk most days. Besides, I can always just find a taxi and bully them into taking me.”

Nahida gave Farasha a startled look, which made the older woman laugh and smile. “I pay them! My salary is quite large. Dearest Uncle Saddam does so like to try to bribe me.”

Several people around them did a double take at Farasha, noticed her odd clothes, and shrank away from her. The reaction didn’t seem to bother her, and she wasn’t exactly trying to disguise herself.

Cars. That particular kind, a smaller one painted red, was a “Toyota.” Perhaps just one more question.

“Where do these Toyotas come from? How can I tell a car is a Toyota?” Nahida asked, trying to keep the question casual despite her burning need to KNOW the answers. She probably could just read Farasha’s mind, and the minds of everyone around her, but that always felt like peeking at someone’s private journal, and it wasn’t as much fun as learning the old-fashioned way, so Nahida avoided it unless she didn’t have another option.

“Japan, just like basically everything else these days,” Farasha said with a heavy sigh and a shake of her head. “Aya! Ever since Raiden took over their government, they’ve really destabilized the world economy. No one seems to want our oil anymore, which hasn’t done us any favors. That’s why so many people are out of work. If only my powers worked like hers, then perhaps I’d be able to do something useful for once.”

At the end of her little speech, Farasha looked wistful and sounded slightly bitter, which was understandable.

“I understand. Sometimes, I wish I was as wise and powerful as the Electro Archon too,” Nahida said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her own voice. What she wouldn’t have given for the people of Sumeru to love her as Inazuma loved their Archon. Then something that had been niggling at the back of Nahida’s mind came to the surface, enough data finally collating.

“Is Japan another name for Inazuma?” Nahida asked as they walked down the street, both she and Qiqi holding Farasha’s hands. Despite the crowds, they didn’t have any trouble, as everyone got out of their way.

“Hmm? Maybe, not sure,” Farasha said, pausing to inspect the goods at one of the shops, the shopkeeper giving her a nervous smile and shrinking back.

Once more, Nahida looked around curiously, studying what she saw. The stalls and shops were different from those in Sumeru City that she had witnessed in her occasional glimpses into the minds of her attendants, but at the same time, they were startlingly similar. People bought and sold goods of all sorts, from food stalls and restaurants to clothing, to something else that Nahida felt drawn to. They seemed to be devices like Farasha had used to snap pictures, but many of them had the same presence as Canned Knowledge. At the same time, they were a bit like Akasha Terminals, forming connections between people and letting them access a network of knowledge.

Indeed, now that Nahida was paying closer attention, she could sense a widespread Akasha-like network. How to access it was a conundrum though: It seemed to exist in the form of… light? How odd. And wonderful! She was going to have to further research this. Definitely something to look up in the library.

“Hmm, you don’t have many clothes do you?” Farasha asked Nahida as they walked by a stall that sold a variety of garments.

“No,” Nahida admitted. She’d had several sets of robes, but, well, those were gone, and her wardrobe wasn’t exactly extensive as the Sages didn’t think they needed to waste money on an Archon that never went anywhere, never grew, and they would much rather forget about.

“Well, we’ll have to take you birthday shopping then!” Farasha laughed. She looked to her otherside, where Qiqi was toddling along, looking straight ahead, apparently unaware of her surroundings. “How about you, Qiqi. Would you like some new clothes?”

“Cocogoat?” Qiqi asked, blinking and looking up at Farasha.

“No, clothes, silly!” Farasha laughed.

“We should go to the library first,” Nahida said, thinking of the books and the knowledge within them. “That way, we can be certain of what the current fashions are.”

That prompted a laugh, and Farasha reached down to pinch Nahida’s cheek. It should have been annoying, but it actually felt rather nice. “Nahida sweetie, you don’t get fashion advice from a book. You get it from your big sister Farasha!”

That was too much. Nahida burst into tears and flung her arms around Farasha, squeezing tightly.

“Woah! Hey there! Shhh, it’s OK! I’ve got you,” Farasha said, kneeling and giving Nahida a hug.

A moment later, a cold weight pressed against Nahida. “Qiqi sorry…”

“It’s OK,” Nahida laughed, turning to hug Qiqi too. Had she at last found her Knight of Flowers? “It’s just…I never had a family before…”

“Yeah,” Farasha said, her voice ragged as she rubbed the top of Nahida and Qiqi’s headscarves. “I know what that feels like. Well, come on, let’s-”

“THIEF! STOP, THIEF! STOP RIGHT-”

There was a sharp crack, and Nahida cried out, ducking down as waves of fear from the people around her washed over her. There were angry shouts, and another sharp crack, then two men with weapons in their hands rushed out of a shop, holding bags stuffed with money and valuables, making for a car. Their faces were covered by cloth, their eyes by dark glasses, but their minds were full of greed and violence.

“Stay here,” Farasha said quietly, standing up. “And whatever you do, don’t touch the butterflies.”

One of the robbers was shouting and swearing, pointing his weapon behind him. The other was threatening the crowd around them, people shrinking back, trying to flee.

Save for one.

Farasha strode forward, pulling a knife from her belt. She held up a palm, and Nahida gasped and tried to cry out as Farasha drew the knife across her palm.

And the demon within her awoke.

Instead of blood, flames burst forth from Farasha’s palm, and a glowing red butterfly of blood and flame flew out. It was large, about the size of two of Farasha’s hands, with the pattern of a grinning ghost on its burning wings.

The street went deathly silent, and Nahida could feel everyone holding their breath in sudden fear.

One of the robbers turned, and blindly fired his gun. Nahida screamed as the bullet took Farasha in the temple, her head exploding. Not in a shower of gore, however, but into a swarm of butterflies.

Despite the beauty of the insects, Nahida could sense the evil, the malice, the hunger for blood and death pulsing within them. They were bits of a demon, and they fluttered forward towards the robbers and their vehicle. The man who had fired his weapon screamed, firing again and again at them and Farasha’s body, which continued to walk forward. The other tried to get into the car, but its tires squealed, and the vehicle peeled away, the second robber falling off and crying out in pain and panic.

Then the first butterfly touched the robber who had fired at Farasha. He screamed one last time, and then butterflies exploded from within; every drop of blood in his body combusting and transforming into winged death. Then the swarm enveloped the second robber, who himself didn’t even have time to scream. Last, the swarm washed over the vehicle, which burst into flames, the metal melting, the fuel exploding.

“Qiqi scared,” the little girl whispered, clinging to Nahida desperately as they watched the terrible, beautiful scene unfold. Nahida could only nod, unable to speak.

As they watched, the now massive swarm of butterflies returned to Farasha. Her head reconstituted as butterflies melted into flesh, and even the cut on her palm was mended. She was left with a massive swarm, flitting about her, hovering over her head, as the people around her cowered in terror.

“Aya. And it was such a beautiful day,” Farasha said softly, reaching up with one hand to allow a butterfly to alight on her fingers. She gave a sad smile, then flicked her hand up, sending the butterflies flying high into the sky. They swirled up in the air, away from people, flings flapping in the faint breeze.

As Nahida watched, a panicked bird flapped off of the roof of one of the buildings. Nahida closed her eyes, knowing what came next. She felt the creature's death as its blood exploded into more of those terribly beautiful insects. She shivered, holding on to Qiqi’s chill body as they both cried.

“There, there. It’s alright. I promise. The butterflies only come for wicked people. Not sweet little girls like you.”

Nahdia looked up, and saw Farasha smiling down at her. Her expression was pleasant, but in her eyes, Nahida saw only death and pain.

What is this place I have come to?

Second Archon War: Sapientia Oromasdis 1

Sapientia Oromasdis 1 - It was her Birthday

Author's Note: This is an updated rerelease of Nahida's preview chapter. There have been a few small tweaks, but overall this is the same thing. 

Beta'd and edited by: The Grand Cogitator, Dr_Feelgood, Philosophysics, October_Day, and Desert Chocolate.

It was my birthday. When I woke up, I was riding in a flower carriage. I'd just had a dream... I dreamed it was my birthday. In the dream, the Knight of Flowers and his retainers found me. "Oh Archon, we've finally found you. The people can't wait to meet you." The Sabzeruz Festival began, and everyone smiled as they gathered around me. Finally, I got back on the carriage and waved goodbye.

Nahida twitched in her dream, writhing uncomfortably. How many times had she dreamed this? She tried to make her dreams pleasant, tried to make them the wholesome wish that her heart begged for.

But she knew the reality behind the fairy tale.

The flower carriage had been a wagon with barred windows and straw on the floor.

The Knight of Flowers had been a stern-faced sage who had never smiled at her once.

They had called her the Archon. They hadn’t been kind about it. They had recognized her Gnosis, but had taken her, locked her away in this chamber.

It was my birthday.

It was her birthday today. She was 505 years old. She dreamed of friends, of candy, and made a little girl-sized table with cakes and tea, and of course, flowers. It wasn’t real though. Just pretend.

Just a dream.

When I woke up…

Something changed. Nahida started, and opened her eyes, then let out a cry as she bounced and jostled around. She fell over, and stared up at a clear blue sky.

I was riding in a flower carriage.

All around her were rough sacks, of a fabric Nahida didn’t recognize. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers, even as she bounced again amidst the sacks. There were strong smells and loud sounds everywhere, and this was not the Sanctuary of Surasthana! In fact… she felt something was missing, that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Peeking into the sacks, Nahida found that they contained radishes. She smiled to herself for a moment, and despite her terror and confusion, let out a nervous giggle. She was a little radish, wasn’t she? Kept hidden away, growing in the dark, where no one could see her.

Propping herself up despite the rattling of the vehicle she was in, Nahida looked around her, and her jaw dropped in amazement. All around her were buildings, made of what looked like white or light gray stone or bricks. But they were unlike buildings she had seen before! Many of them had colorful signs on them, in a language she had never seen before. She looked around excitedly and was soon able to comprehend it. Arabic. This was Arabic. She just knew it! A new language of Man.

Clapping her hands in delight, Nahida lifted her head up further, peering over the side of the… wagon? No, not a wagon. It was a vehicle unlike anything she’d ever seen, or read about, or even dreamed of! It moved on four wheels and was bouncing over a somewhat broken road. This wagon was red under its scuffs and stains, with a compartment up front with a man driving. There were more vehicles in so many different colors all around her, some standing still, others moving with no visible means of locomotion. How did they do that? It had to be some sort of elemental energy. She dearly wanted to take one apart to see how it worked, but she kept her head down nervously and watched the people going by her.

They were…people. Not the people of Sumeru City, more like the Eremites of the desert. Some were lighter, others dark and swarthy, but their clothes! Their clothes were so fascinating! There were so many fabrics and colors, so many styles and shapes! There were robes and dresses she was familiar with, but also tunics, blouses, shirts, trousers, jackets…a penelope of new garments!

But who were they? They had dreams, and they spoke Arabic, which was much like the language of the Eremites, but different, as though it had diverged hundreds or thousands of years ago. Nahida could sense them, and they felt…right. Like they were her people, though they didn’t know it yet. But then again, the people of Sumeru City were much the same way: they were hers, but not. That thought made Nahida feel miserable, so she crouched down in the bed of the not-wagon and sniffled, bouncing along the road.

Suddenly, the not-wagon came to a sudden halt. Nahida looked up, her eyes growing wide as she realized the man driving the wagon had seen her in the bed. He got out, slamming the door behind him, his face red with fury as he pointed out her.

“THIEF! You little thief! Stealing the radishes right out of my truck! Allah curse you, what are you doing you little rat?!”

Cringing, Nahida tried to hide under a sack, even though she knew it was useless. The sack was soon pulled off of her, and the man grabbed her by her dress roughly, pulling her out of the bed and tossing her on the pavement. It was hot, and burned Nahida’s bare skin, causing her to cry out in pain even as she mended her own wounds. She lay there on her back, staring up in terror at the man. It was silly perhaps, but she’d always been intimidated by those bigger than her, and there was a deeper, more primal fear.

What if she lost control? What if she killed a mortal who had done nothing wrong save to be disappointed in a worthless Archon?

“Who are you, what are you doing among my- wait! You are one of them! A cursed devil!” he looked suddenly frightened, and Nahida tried to scramble away on the pavement of the road, but she flinched, the black stuff was so burning hot!

Fear and rage radiated off the man, making Nahida wince and feel even more miserable at her failure as a god. She looked up, studying the man, trying to figure out who he was, for he was surely not from Sumeru City. His hair was dark, as were his eyes, his skin the dark brown of Karmaphala bark, with lines and wrinkles from long days in the sun, and his soul felt as though he were about four decades old. He wore blue pants of a durable-looking fabric, with shoes made of an odd rubber-like substance, and a shirt in a red and blue cross pattern with a belt.

“Devil! Get away from-”

“Hey there! What seems to be the problem?” a chipper woman’s voice said.

With tears in her eyes, Nahida looked around to see a woman twirling a spear in her hands stepping towards them. She was dressed…well, to Nahida it looked exotic, but compared to everyone else, there was something very odd about the woman. Her clothes were black, with red butterflies stitched into the hem of her garment, a long jacket paired with a dress that came down to her ankles. On her head perched a black hat with a short brim, red flowers tucked into the band, and more scarlet butterflies embroidered on it. Her eyes were red, with odd-looking pupils that looked like more red butterflies.

“Y-you! S-stay back!” the man stammered, going pale as he stepped towards his truck. “You’re another of them!”

“Me? Oh, no no! I’m licensed by our Glorious Leader and the Ba’ath Party as an Official Cape, see?” she pointed to a badge of a flag on her bosom, which had a red triangle on the left, with a black, white, and green line on it. She doffed her hat and swept a bow. “Farasha, at your service! What seems to be the problem, my dear citizen?”

“She is like you! She was stealing my radishes! She’s a thief!” the man declared, pointing again at Nahida as he tried to get away, towards the door of his wagon.

Farasha turned curious eyes on Nahida, who wilted further. The woman stank of Death. Her very aura was sick and twisted, and made Nahida’s stomach tie itself in knots. She felt like she was going to throw up. But… but the eyes were kind, and she seemed to pity Nahida.

No. Grownups couldn’t be trusted. They might seem kind, but that was only ever so they could trick Nahida into doing what they wanted. Like the Sages. She tried to be good, tried to help them, tried to be a Great Archon like Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, but she never lived up to the dreams mortals had of her.

“Well, I’ll just take her then! Thanks for your report, Citizen!” Farasha declared. Then, to Nahida’s shock, she bent and swept Nahida up in her arms, slinging her spear on her back. As she did so, she dropped her voice, “Where are you from, kid? Where are your parents?”

Nahida could barely speak, she was so overwhelmed by the smell of death, but she managed, “I-I don’t have p-parents…”

Wincing, Farasha nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should have known that. Here, I keep this for when I run across a strict imam. Wrap it around your head, hide those ears and that hair.”

Nahida took the black length of fabric, and looked up at Farasha, who was smiling at her. She felt like… grief. Sadness. Empathy. As if she knew what Nahida had gone through, was going through, and wanted to help. If this Imam… a holy man? If a holy man saw Nahida with her head uncovered and her face bare, if people saw her pointed ears and silver-white hair… there would be trouble. Hastily, Nahida wrapped the scarf around her head, so that only her eyes and nose were visible. Despite the feeling of death in Farasha’s spirit, Nahida clung to her chest as she was born away.

“No parents, huh. I can relate, unfortunately… Where are you from, sweetie? What’s your name?”

Nahida realized the error here. Farasha thought that Nahida’s parents were dead, as she was also apparently an orphan. However, Nahida had no parents in the truest sense: she had been born of a concept, the embodiment of an Aspect of Reality. In her case, she was the Wisdom of Irminsul, manifested on Teyvat.

What a cruel joke: the god of wisdom, and yet she was only a child. She could appreciate the irony at times.

However, Nahida did not correct Farasha. For one thing, grownups did not like it when you openly corrected them. For another, she was beginning to realize that Farasha, and the man from before, had no idea who Nahida was. And, actually, Nahida realized she probably wasn’t in Sumeru. How should she answer this question? It was important to be truthful, Nahida knew that, but often people did not like to hear plain truth.

So, as she was Wisdom, Nahida chose her words carefully.

“From the desert. I don’t know the name of the little town where I’m from… I… I remember being lost, then there was… the radishes. I hid in them. I didn’t know where they were going, but…”

That skipped over a great deal and was barely true, but it did satisfy Farasha. She brushed away the tears from Nahida’s eyes with her fingers and smiled her sad smile. “Shhh, it’s OK, I have you now. Can you tell me your name?”

Her name. Nahida had so many names. Dendro Archon. Buer. Lesser Lord Kusanali. The God of Wisdom.

But she decided to give none of those.

“Call me Nahida.”

“That’s a pretty name, Nahida. I’m going to take you somewhere safe, OK? Just a moment.” Farasha approached a line of clothes drying in the warm sun, and grabbed a length of white cloth. “Thank you for your donation to the Ba’ath Party, Citizen! I’ll bring it back later, never fear!”

A frightened woman who had been about to yell caught sight of Farasha. She must have sensed the Death as well, and she shrank back, hiding in her home.

Taking the cloth, Farasha hastily wrapped it about Nahida like a dress, obscuring her own clothes. “Where ever did you get those clothes? They’re very stylish, but I’m afraid they draw the eyes. Not what a young lady wants to do in Baghdad, especially not a freshly triggered parahuman. Ayah! Allah must be testing us again, hmm?”

Allah. A god? Cautiously, Nahida felt out with her spirit. Was she in the realm of another of the Seven? She didn’t sense the presence of another Archon, not in this city, or even this land. If there was a god here, they were too distant for Nahida to feel them.

She didn’t respond, instead resting her head on Farasha’s shoulder. She was so exhausted, she was even able to ignore the Death about the woman. She nearly stuck her thumb in her mouth, but didn’t. She might be a child, but that was too far. Unbecoming of a god. Though sometimes, she woke up from nightmares sucking her thumb. She always felt horribly embarrassed when she did. Even if no one ever saw.

“I know just where to take you, Nahida! Don’t worry, we won’t be going to see our Glorious Leader or my masters in the Party! No, I’ll take you to see a friend. He looks after lost little girls like you and me. There will be friends there for you to play with, would you like that?”

At the mention of ‘friends’ Nahida jerked her head up, her eyes wide. Play? Oh, how badly Nahida wanted to play! If there was one thing she wanted more than anything else in the entire world, it was friends to play with! Other children! To run, barefoot on the grass, playing games, singing, and holding hands together!

But she couldn’t. The sages never let her leave the Sanctuary, and certainly never let another child into her presence. Most days, someone simply brought her food and water, and occasionally gave her a bath. The attendants rarely even spoke to her, beyond what was strictly required. They were always so dour…

However… This was not Sumeru City. Or even Sumeru at all. Maybe not even Teyvat, for Arabic hadn’t been in any of the manuscripts in the Akademiya, and if the Sages didn’t know of a country, could it be there? That meant Nahida had a chance. It was a silly thing, but… maybe, just for once… she could be a child, and find people who loved her. But she would have to be very careful not to spoil it.

So, she smiled nervously and tried to look innocent.

“Oh-ho! You like the sound of that, don’t you?” Farasha asked, smiling with less sadness than she usually did.

Nahida nodded cautiously, looking around her. They were walking through streets that seemed magical and alien…but they were run down. There were cracks in the mortar, peeling paint, potholes in the road that had caused all that jostling, and clothes on that were stained and mended many times. The people looked downtrodden, and frightened, staying away from Farasha, even going so far as to cross the narrow street to get away from her, or ducking into buildings.

It was too bad. Farasha did feel like Death, but she was also… compassionate. Cheerful. Nahida was almost surprised the woman didn’t have a Pyro Vision. Did she lack ambition? It didn’t seem like it.

“Well, my friend is a Doctor, his name is Bashir Saeed. He’s a very kind man, who looks after certain lost children, just like you! He treats many sick children in his clinic, and was even trained far, far away, in Britain! Have you heard of Britain?”

Nahida shook her head, still watching the people around her. Some looked at her with curiosity, others with pity, a few with animosity. But mostly, they looked at her with dull, uncaring eyes. A look she was all too familiar with.

Farasha chattered away as she walked, a swing in her step and a smile on her face, but sadness in her heart. Her soul felt… wounded. Empty. There was something else there. A demon. Hiding in her spirit. But Farasha smiled anyway and laughed at a joke she told Nahida. It was actually a very funny joke, and Nahida giggled and covered her mouth with her hands. She’d have to remember that one.

It wasn’t too long before they came to a building in what Nahida had determined to be a slum, a horrible thought to her for Sumeru City had no slums, with a sign out front that read ‘Doctor Bashir Saeed, Pediatrics and Obstetrics.’ There was a short mud brick wall that was carefully whitewashed around the clinic, and a wooden gate. There was another of those wagons parked on the paved path near the building, this one white with a red crescent painted on the side and no bed. More of a carriage then? Nahida wasn’t sure.

The yard was mostly dirt and some dying grass, though there were two date palms and a small garden in the shade of the building that grew vegetables. A young girl who looked to be about six worked in the garden, wrapped in a blue shawl, and with a blue veil over her face. She looked up when Farasha approached holding Nahida, and stood there with a watering can clutched in her eyes, looking up with icy blue eyes, her expression vacant.

“Hello, Qiqi!” Farasha said brightly, kneeling down and setting Nahida on her feet on the cool bricks of the path. She reached out and rubbed Qiqi’s head. “I’ve brought you a new friend!”

“Friend?” Qiqi asked, her tone dull and listless, her gaze touching Nahida, but not seeing her.

“Say hello,” Farasha urged, gently nudging Nahida.

“H-hello. I’m Nahida.” She extended a hand in greeting, though she winced. There was also something wrong with Qiqi. Her spirit also had a demon feeding up on it. She sensed pain, so much pain, from Qiqi. So much so that the other little girl had shut herself up in her own mind, and was hiding from it, terrified to ever come out.

Qiqi looked at her blankly, until Farasha gently took her hand, and guided it to Nahida’s. “Say hello, Qiqi.”

“Hello, Qiqi.”

Farasha sighed, the pain coming off her almost too much to bear.

So, Nahida thought about it. Quickly of course, far more quickly than a mortal could. “Hello, Nahida.”

At that, Qiqi smiled faintly and took Nahida’s hand. Her touch was chilly, as if her blood didn’t circulate properly, but Nahida shook it anyway.

Farasha laughed, and much of the pain vanished from her eyes, at least for a moment. She hugged both Nahida and Qiqi tightly, kissing them on their foreheads. “You’ll be perfect for one another…”

“Qiqi? Is someone there?” a deep male voice called, and a man stepped out of the door of the clinic.

Doctor Bashir was younger than Nahida had expected, no more than thirty. His dark beard was neatly trimmed, and a mustache covered his lips as well. The rest of Bashir’s hair was close-cropped, but cut in a way Nahida surmised was fashionable and well groomed. The make of his clothes was excellent and of good materials, but not ones that Nahida had seen before. His jacket was cream colored, and a green necktie was about his neck, while his waistcoat was tan, as were his neatly pressed pants. So well shined were his shoes that they seemed to glow in the light, even with the dust and sand everywhere.

“Ah, Farasha, and who’s this?” the doctor said, stepping forward and carefully kneeling on the well-swept path, avoiding the wet patch from Qiqi’s sloppy watering of the garden.

Despite herself, Nahida felt shy and nervous, and hid behind Farasha, clutching the woman’s dress in her hand. Farasha might stink of Death, but she had been far kinder to Nahida than any grownup she’d met in… well. A very long time. Maybe ever.

“It’s OK, little one. This is Doctor Bashir, the man I told you about.”

“H-hello,” Nahida stammered, peeking out with only one eye. A doctor. A man of learning. Had he been to the Akademiya? No, no, Farasha said he’d been schooled somewhere called Britain. Besides, this world… it didn’t feel like Teyvat. Still. Nahida didn’t trust scholars. She’d had too much experience that told her not to.

Taking off his glasses and tucking them into his jacket pocket, Bashir gave Nahida a warm, kind smile, though he had to squint. He was clearly very near-sighted. “Hello. I’m Doctor Bashir. Are you sick, my friend? I help children who are ill.”

Nahida shook her head hastily. She wasn’t sick, she knew that much. Just lost.

“Nahida, introduce yourself,” Farasha encouraged, twisting around to gently guide Nahida forward.

“I… I’m Nahida,” she said, feeling foolish and oh so much like a child. When would she ever grow up? Would she ever grow up?

“Peace be upon you, Nahida,” the doctor said, putting a gentle but strong hand on Nahida’s shoulder. “Please, come inside. Qiqi, leave the watering for now. I have some popsicles in the freezer. Do you like popsicles, Nahida?”

“I don’t know,” Nahida admitted. “But I promise I’m not a picky eater. I-I am hungry, though.”

It turned out that Nahida LOVED popsicles. She picked one that was green, and it tasted of fruit and sweet sugar! She sucked on it and licked it happily, delighted to enjoy the treat. She was on her third lick when she blushed and looked up. “Um, thank you very much, Doctor Bashir. It’s good.”

He smiled at her gently as he handed Qiqi a popsicle of her own, then helped her sit down in a chair. To Nahida’s surprise, the chairs she and Qiqi sat in were sized for children, not grownups. There were grown-up chairs, Farasha was sitting in one and enjoying a red popsicle, which she was biting instead of just licking. Nahida tried a nibble, and gasped at how cold it was! How wonderful.

“Qiqi eat popsicle? Qiqi good?” the other little girl asked.

“Yes, my dear. Always,” Doctor Bashir said gently, stroking Qiqi’s head.

She nodded and began to slowly lick the popsicle. After a moment, a drop fell on her clothes. She looked down, her eyes suddenly focusing and widening in horror. “Sorry! Qiqi sorry!”

“There, there, it’s alright, dear,” Bashir said, his tone still mild and gentle as he used a cloth napkin to dab at the stain. “Just enjoy your popsicle, alright?”

Tears in her eyes, Qiqi nodded, and began slowly licking her treat once more.

Bashir sighed, and shared a long look with Farasha, who looked heartbroken as well. Then he seated himself in a chair by Nahida, a child-sized chair, despite the adult ones. Why?

He’s trying to put himself on my level, to not be intimidating. He’s making it appear we’re equals, and treating me with respect. He doesn’t even know I’m the Dendro Archon. He did the same for Qiqi, and outside, even though he got his knee dirty. He brushed it off, but there’s still dust. So he values the feelings of children more than his expensive clothes. I wonder why? I think… I think I can trust this man.

Nahida smiled nervously at Bashir, setting aside her popsicle.

“No, no, finish it, please. It will melt,” Bashir said, shaking his head and smiling.

“No melting,” Qiqi said, and pointed at Nahida’s popsicle.

Nahida dropped it in horror as cold flowed out of Qiqi’s demon and onto the popsicle.

No Vision. Not a god. How? This was impossible! The heat had been sucked away by the demon as if it had been eaten; there was no Cryo energy at all. This was unnatural.

“It’s alright, Nahida. Qiqi didn’t mean to hurt you,” Bashir said, picking up the popsicle. He tossed it into a trash bin, then stood and got another popsicle, handing it to Nahida. “Qiqi, please, no powers right now.”

“Qiqi good. No powers,” the little girl agreed. She looked down at the ground. “Qiqi bad. Qiqi sorry.”

“It’s alright, Qiqi. You just… scared me. You don’t… do you have a Vision?” Nahida asked uncertainly.

Bashir’s eyebrows shot up. “You have heard of Visions? Most in Iraq do not yet recognize the subtle distinction between parahumans and Vision holders. Where did you hear of Visions, Nahida?”

In response, Nahida reached into her robes and pulled out a mock Vision. She made it even as she reached for it, transforming a leaf she grew into one. There was so much she did not know or understand, including what a Parahuman was. That seemed very important. But she did know what a Vision looked like, even if she didn’t have one. It seemed wise not to appear to be a parahuman, or a god right now. She could just be Nahida, a little girl with a Vision. It would be unusual for a child of the age she appeared to be, but not impossible.

“Remarkable,” Bashir breathed and reached for the Vision. He paused, his fingers only inches from it, and looked at Nahida. “May I?”

She nodded, deciding she could definitely trust Doctor Bashir. He asked instead of taking. Even from a child he thought was in his power. He wasn’t like the sages at all.

He took the Vision and held it up, studying it. “Truly remarkable. It doesn’t look like any Visions I’ve seen before. Not an electrical or wind based one at all.”

“Electro or Anemo?” Nahida asked, curious. “Do you know where Visions come from?”

The Doctor’s eyes sparkled, and he grinned. “I don’t think anyone does, Nahida. Some say they are the gifts of Allah to the Faithful, to guard against the devilish parahumans. Others say they are more wicked tricks, to tempt mankind away from the path of righteousness.”

Nahida nodded, considering. “But what do you think, doctor?”

He laughed and handed the Vision back to Nahida. “I think that perhaps we are all fools sometimes. Where Visions come from, only Allah knows. Certainly not I. Where do you think Visions come from, Nahida? You have one, not I.”

She considered her answer carefully, and answered the question with a question. “Well, what does the word Vision mean?”

Bashir considered that, frowning thoughtfully. “It can mean sight, or what one sees. Or, it can mean a plan or goal. What Vision do you have, Nahida?”

That was a good question. What was her Vision? What goals or plans did she have? She had dreams, of course, of being free, of being free, of being a good Archon, but right now…

“To be at peace, and to live in peace,” Nahida said, looking down at her popsicle.

“A good vision. As is this. Keep it safe, and Allah willing, your Vision will come to pass, Nahida.” He handed her the Vision, looking pleased with her answer. “But do not show your Vision to others. Many in this city believe that Allah curses those who have Visions, and would harm you for having it.”

Nahida nodded, thoughtfully licking her popsicle as she tucked the false Vision away. She felt guilty about tricking Bashir, but she didn’t want to tell him she was a god. It seemed that this Allah was a jealous deity, and his followers could be dangerous if they thought you had wronged him. She would keep certain thoughts to herself.

It was too bad, she would have to return to Sumeru, somehow. It wasn’t safe here. But, then again… did they even want her there? Wouldn’t they be better off without her? Perhaps she could stay, just a little longer. At least long enough to have another popsicle.

“She said her parents are dead,” Farasha said, licking her fingers with the little wooden stick from the popsicle stuck in her mouth. “I was certain she had Triggered. She looks more like a parahuman.”

“Does she?” Bashir turned back to Nahida, frowning. “I might need to examine you, Nahida. Do not worry; I am a doctor, it is my job.”

She nodded, uncertain. That was something it was natural to tell an embarrassed child, but… there was something else. An implication? Nahida wasn’t sure.

She took off her headwrap and makeshift dress, and Bashir sucked in a breath.

“O merciful Allah, shelter your daughter in this time,” he muttered, though his heart wasn’t in the prayer. They were just words to him. He seemed shocked at her appearance though. Interesting. Were there no elves in this land? He seemed a learned man, and while a yokel might be surprised to see an elf, a scholar should not be.

He let Nahida finish the popsicle, then took her to a room with a bed on it, and various tools for examination. He looked at Nahida thoroughly, even giving her something called an ‘x-ray’ that bombarded her with strange energy, but apparently let him see her bones. He drew some blood as well, and Nahida was embarrassed to admit she cried and flinched, even though he was very quick, as well as gentle and kind. It was more the thought of it than anything else, even though the amount of blood he took wouldn’t have been harmful to even a mortal child, let alone a god who could regenerate the blood even before it was gone.

“You definitely appear to be a parahuman, though I don’t have the tools fine enough to locate a corona pollentia,” Bashir told her. “That’s a development in the brain that indicates a parahuman over a Vision holder. Very interesting. This is a new type of Vision though, not… what did you say? Ah, Electro or Anemo. I have heard these terms before.”

“It’s Dendro,” Nahida told him. “The elemental energy of life.”

That was more than perhaps was strictly wise to say, but she felt guilty about lying earlier, and she really did like and trust Bashir.

“Is it? Fascinating,” Bashir murmured, not contradicting Nahida though she sensed some doubt in him. “I would like to study its effects… but…”

It was growing dark outside, and Nahida was curious herself. “Can people see the garden? From the street?”

“Hmm? No, but it’s almost time for evening prayers,” Bashir told her. “We should go to the mosque. Then perhaps a little gardening.”

Bashir had Nahida wrap her head again and put on a dress that covered her more completely, leaving only her arms bare. She resisted at first when he gave her a pair of Qiqi’s shoes to wear, always preferring to go barefoot. She relented when he insisted sternly, warning her that she would burn her feet on the, he called it asphalt? She thought it was the dark road, and that little girls should wear shoes.

“I’ll come with you,” Farasha said, coming out with Qiqi in her arms. She had put on a headscarf herself and was wearing a dark dress with red flowers embroidered on it instead of her other outfit.

Bashir smiled at her. “I would like that. It would be good for you to be seen at a mosque for prayers.”

“Well, I promise to at least move my lips,” Farasha teased, which made Bashir sigh, and Nahida suppressed a giggle. They seemed to like one another a lot. She did tend to think of open displays of affection as gross, like most children did, but she was also curious and fascinated by them, and tried to be mature about it.

The temple they went to had a dome-shaped top and a tall spire, and Farasha took Qiqi and Nahida to a different opening from Bashir, where only men and older boys were entering. The women went around to the side, to a separate chamber. The other women stayed away from Farasha and Qiqi, and Nahida by extension since she was with them, keeping their children away from the three.

“Sorry, Nahida. Looks like you’re a weirdo like Qiqi and me,” Farasha said, laying out the rug that she’d carried from the clinic. Nahida laid her own rug down, as did Qiqi, and both girls copied the motions of the others as they all faced a wall and said prayers to Allah.

Nahida didn’t pray, so much as try to reach out to the other god and get his attention. She sensed …something. What, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t try too hard, being worried about drawing this stern deity's attention. Was he like Celestia or the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles? Nahida had done her best not to attract their attention and didn’t intend to change that. So she kept her spiritual voice quiet when she asked politely if anyone was home, and got no response. It was something of a relief, but also a mystery.

If a foreign god had cried out like this in Sumeru City, Nahida would certainly have heard them and answered.

After, Farasha left right away, and Nahida held Qiqi’s hand and led her long. They found Bashir talking with a man in a white turban with dark robes on. He too had on glasses and had a neatly trimmed beard, and was about Bashir’s age. By the way they stood so closely and how they touched one another as they walked, they were obviously very close. Nahida didn’t see any features that would indicate they were blood relatives, but that wasn’t always a certain thing.

“Ah, this must be the new lost one you have found, my brother,” the robed man said. He had a sense about him that he was a holy man, and Nahida surmised he was the imam.

She bowed to him, saying, “Peace be unto you, Imam.”

“And also with you, child,” the Imam said, a smile in his voice as he nodded his head to her. He turned to Bashir. “This one can speak, at least. You had me worried, Saeed.”

“There is no reason to worry, Taher. I make more than enough to care for one more mouth,” Bashir said with a smile of his own. He went over and put a hand on both Nahida and Qiqi’s heads, and it was… nice. A gesture of fatherly affection and love. Nahida subconsciously grabbed Bashir’s pant leg with her fingers and realized that Qiqi was doing the same, though she was looking ahead at nothing in particular.

“Hmm. But you do not take in lambs that are not lame.” Imam Taher turned to Farasha, and this time he scowled. “Peace be unto you, Hutah. It is good to see you in the house of Allah.”

“Oh, no need to play nice, Mohamad. We both know you’ll scrub the floors extra hard after my filthy self set foot in here,” Farasha said in chipper tones that dripped venom. Nahida hadn’t realized it had been possible to sound so polite and happy and yet be so acidic and hateful at the same time.

The Imam sighed and raised a hand towards Farahsa. “Blessings upon you, Hutah. Not every Imam thinks parahumans are a curse sent by Allah.”

She smiled, then skipped off, going to wait out in the street. An open space in the stream of people formed around her, and people subconsciously shied away even when they obviously didn’t consciously realize Farasha was there. Was Hutah a first name? Surname? Farasha seemed offended by it.

“That woman… must you bring her here, Bashir? I trust you, and have known you all my life, but…”

“As you said. All are welcome in the house of Allah. Even such as these,” Bashir said, nodding to the girls beside him.

The Imam looked down, and gave a sad smile. “Yes. Though she feels… well. I trust your judgment. You would not allow a dangerous person near Qiqi. Peace be with you this evening.”

The Imam went off to talk with other men, and Bashir guided Nahida and Qiqi through the crowd. Many other men came to speak with Bashir, and Nahida noted they were all fathers with daughters between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four. The young girls stayed with their mothers over by the women, but by the way they batted their eyes at Bashir and how the fathers all mentioned how much Bashir needed a wife, or how delicious their daughters' cooking was, she gathered this as some sort of courtship ritual.

Bashir, however, didn’t seem interested. He seemed, well, not oblivious, but politely ignored the efforts, even the invites to meals that the young women would be delighted to cook for him. At last they were out in the street with Farasha, who fell into step with Bashir.

“Qiqi tired,” the other girl said, tugging on Bashir’s pant leg.

He smiled and lifted Qiqi into his arms, where she looked at least a little more content than usual.

Someone suddenly grabbed Nahida and tickled her, making her gasp in delight before she found herself swung up onto Farasha’s shoulders. She laughed and spread her arms wide, utterly delighted as they made their way down the road, back to the clinic.

There was a small set of apartments above the clinic, where Bashir prepared a meal while Farasha took Nahida and Qiqi to clean up for dinner.

“You’ll probably sleep in the same room as Qiqi, hope you don’t mind that, Radish!” Farasha said, gesturing to the room. It was painted sky blue, and had images of red and blue butterflies drawn in glorious colors on the walls. There was a corner where someone, definitely Qiqi, had scribbled with wax pencils on the wall, and no effort had been made to remove it. There was a dresser with neatly folded clothes that fit Nahida and Qiqi well, they were about the same size, and bins of toys. Real toys!

Dolls and figures with clothes, brushes, and even a small house to live in! Animals with soft skin or hard bodies of a substance Nahida didn’t know, and species she didn’t recognize at all! Books in Arabic and another language with very different angular letters, though they all had bright pictures. More wax pens and books with black and white drawings meant for coloring! Wagons and carriages with moving wheels, and something else.

A book, hidden in the dresser, with an image of a smiling girl with a dragon hovering by her shoulder, a sword in her hands, and an aura of power about her. But behind her…behind her was…

“Beelzebul,” Nahida whispered.

“Hmm? Oh! You found the book I got for Qiqi!” Farasha said brightly, coming over to point at the cover. “It’s about a little girl with powers, like you two! She’s-”

“Lightning Princess Ami,” Nahida said absently, flipping through the book and reading it. She paused, then went back and started from the rear. Apparently, you read it backward. So absorbed was she that she didn’t notice Farasha gawking at her until she’d read several pages. Then she blushed and looked up. “Um, I like it. Is it alright for me to read it?”

“Where did you learn to read? Let alone English,” Farasha asked, totally mystified.

Realizing her error, Nahida blushed and lowered the book. “Um, I like the pictures?”

“I guess so,” Farashaw said, taking the book. She examined it, then pointed to one of the bubbles that had speaking in it. “What’s this say?”

For a brief moment, Nahdia considered feigning ignorance, but she decided against it. “<‘Ugh, I can’t believe Uncle Mushu grounded us, Jessica. We could totally help in the battle against Heartbreaker!’>”

Farashaw frowned and flipped the book over, her eyes scanning the page. “Fuck me if I can read this shit.”

Nahida gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes growing wide. She turned to look at Qiqi, who was standing there, half-dressed, not looking at much of anything again. Good. Maybe she hadn’t heard the Bad Words.

“Oh! Sorry!” Farashaw blushed bright red, and put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell the Doc I said that, OK? I mean, what you said sounded like English to me. Oh! Come on, Qiqi, pull on your clothes.”

After getting Qiqi dressed and Nahida changed into evening clothes, they went and had dinner with the doctor. Nahida ate ravenously, asking for and getting thirds and even fourths of falafel balls, kebab meat, and vegetables from the garden. Qiqi ate quietly and only at Farashaw’s or Bashir urged her.

“Someone’s hungry,” Bashir said, shaking his head. “I should have fed you more than a popsicle earlier. I apologize, Nahida.”

She paused, carefully wiping her mouth with a napkin. “No, no, it’s just, I rarely have such wonderful food! Thank you, I was very hungry!”

“Hey, doc, by the way, what does this say,” Farashaw said, holding up Lightning Princess Ami, Volume 17, for him to read, to the same page that she’d shown Nahida.

He glanced at it, then said, “Ami is protesting that Mushu has grounded her and Jessica, and they can’t help Raiden against Heartbreaker.”

“No, in English. Say it in English,” Farashaw urged, and Nahida felt sick, and tried to hide under the table. She had ruined it. These wonderful people, and they were going to label her as an aberration, and reject her, just like she’d been rejected so many times before!

Bashir looked puzzled, but read, “<‘Ugh, I can’t believe Uncle Mushu grounded us, Jessica. We could totally help in the battle against Heart Breaker!’> Nahida, why are you hiding? Is something wrong? Did you give yourself an upset stomach?”

“Straight truth, she said exactly the same thing when she read the book,” Farashaw said, pointing to Nahida, who by now was crouching under the table and trembling with her arms wrapped around her knees.

Bashir’s chair scraped back, and he asked, “Really?” A moment later, his head appeared under the table, proffering the book to Nahida. “Can you read this?”

She debated internally for only an instant, before biting her lip nervously and nodding. “Yes.”

“Truly?” Bashir crawled under the table, though he was now dressed in robes instead of his nice clothes, so it was probably alright. Bashir lay down, scooting next to Nahida and pointing to the book. “Can you read this for me?”

Nahida nodded, and looked down, then hesitated. “Um, in English, or Arabic?”

“Can you do both?” he asked, clearly surprised.

“Yes…”

“Then by all means! Please do so!”

His enthusiasm was obvious, and as Nahida began to read, Qiqi crawled down next to her, looking at the pages of the book. Farasha joined them, and Nahida read several pages, first in the original English, then translating to Arabic on the fly. It was easy for her, of course, but both adults were clearly stunned at her display of linguistic skill.

After reading for a bit, Nahida looked up, nervous, and Bashir shook his head slowly. “Nahida, how old are you?”

That took some serious thinking. Hedging, Nahida asked, “What’s today’s date?”

“October the 27th, 2003,” Bashir asked, his brow furrowing.

“Then…” she swallowed. She figured out that this was the tenth month, though what the years meant was beyond her limited understanding right now. “It’s my birthday…I’m five…

“Remarkable,” Bashir gasped, speaking quickly enough that he interrupted Nahida before she could add the “hundred and five” part. She felt grateful, but that same lingering sense of guilt. A lie of omission was still a lie.

“You’re a little smarty pants, aren’t you, Radish?” Farashaw laughed, and ruffled Nahida’s hair.

She smiled hesitantly, looking at Bashir to see his reaction. He looked astonished, and sat up, banging his head on the table. “Ah!” Rubbing his head, he winced and gave Nahida a sheepish smile. “Well, I wish I had known! I would have made a cake.”

“Cake?” Nahida gasped. A cake, for her birthday? A real cake?! She’d always dreamed of one!

“Cake!” Farasha declared. “Sorry kid, we’ll make one tomorrow.”

It was all too much. Nahida broke down crying. An instant later, cold arms wrapped themselves around here.

“Don’t be sad,” Qiqi said.

Nahida clung to the other girl and wept, even as two sets of warm arms wrapped themselves around her.

“Happy birthday, Nahida,” Bashir said gently. “Welcome home.”

“Let’s sing!” Farasha declared, and the adults broke into song.

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday Nahida

Happy Birthday to you.

“You smell like a radish, and you look like one too!” Farashaw added at the end, then tickled Nahida so hard she stopped crying and started giggling hysterically.

After that, Nahida was exhausted and started to fall asleep. She and Qiqi were put to bed by Farashaw and Bashir, where the two girls curled up next to one another. Before long, Nahida drifted off to sleep.

It was her best birthday, ever.

Author's Note: 

Please welcome Desert Chocolate, who has agreed to be my cultural consultant for all things related to arabic culture and Islam. It's important to get these details right, and while I have basic knowledge of Japanese and European culture by sheer osmosis if nothing else, it was important to me to find someone who could help me not only get the little details right, but ensure that this was respectful to Islam and the arabic world too.

Even if they are about to get adopted by a radish. 

The Second Archon War: Interlude 4

Interlude: In a Strange Land

The wind was cold and wet, with black ice slicking the road, and a biting wind from off Lake Michigan that went through the cheap hoodie she was wearing. Gripping her baseball bat, she looked across the dark parking lot, to where the two thugs were smoking and talking quietly, the stink of tobacco and cheap weed making her wrinkle her nose.

“How many?” she whispered to her small companion.

“Um, maybe a dozen? Are you sure you want to do this? It’s really dangerous, they have guns and-”

“And the kids?” the voice of her brother said, his tone tight and nearly as anxious as hers, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly as he gripped his own improvised weapon, a crowbar in this case.

“T-they’re in there too, locked up,” the small tremulous voice admitted. “B-but this is still really scary…”

“Hey, we’re scarier now,” she said, smiling at her floating little companion, who was shivering with more than just the cold. “We got superpowers, remember?”

“Y-yes, but…oh, fine! You’d both better buy an extra delicious dinner for everyone after this!” huffed the little fairy. It would have been more intimidating if she hadn’t been dressed in an adorable toddler’s knitted onesie with a thick wool cap shoved over her halo. Black for stealth, of course.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, frowning at the two guards who were standing beneath one of the warehouse's few working lights. One had a rifle, the other a pistol, but they didn’t seem to be paying all that much attention as lookouts. “So how do we do this? Go in hot and heavy?”

“You always did like to take the ‘stealth is optional’ approach. Some of us prefer to actually get in without blowing everything up and ruining our cover,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “That’s why we sent in our scout.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Ok. Let me repeat this again but slower since you didn’t actually answer my question. So how do we do this? I don’t have the best control yet, and neither do you. If I try something at this range, those two will end up as red smears,” her brother said with a frown. “They’re child kidnappers and-” he shot a glance at their diminutive companion and seemed to change what he’d been about to say, “-not very nice people. So while I’d feel bad about killing them, I wouldn’t feel that bad.”

“No killing! We’re the good guys! Good guys don’t kill people!” the little fairy ranted, stomping her foot in midair. Absolutely adorable.

“If we can avoid it,” she agreed, looking up at the room. She suddenly grinned. “I have an idea. Both of you, give me your hands.”

A moment later, there was a loud crash, and the two guards looked up. They took out a radio, spoke into it, then went over to examine the air conditioner that had randomly appeared there. They examined it, kicked it, spoke into the radio some more, then wandered back to their post, laughing and shrugging.

Grinning, she looked over at her brother from where they were crouched atop the warehouse roof. “Pretty smart, huh?”

“Warn me next time,” her brother grunted. “Getting teleported feels…weird.”

“It worked though, didn’t it?” she giggled, glancing over at the little fairy who was hovering along behind them. “You OK?”

“Teleporting makes Paimon feel like Paimon has butterflies in her belly. Paimon much prefers floating,” the fairy groaned, then hiccuped loudly.

“Shhh!” both siblings hissed, then turned back towards the trap door in the roof they’d found.

“How do we open it?” she asked, prodding the door with her bat.

“We could try picking the lock!” Paimon suggested enthusiastically.

“What kind of reprobates do you take us for?” she said, putting a hand to her chest in mock offense. The other one went into her hair, where she withdrew a bobby pin. Which she kept on her person at all times specifically for picking locks.

“You know, Lumine, sometimes the simplest solution is best,” her brother said, then reached down, grabbed the latch, and heaved. The door simply swung open with a slight creak.

“...or that works too,” Lumine admitted, fixing her hair again. The light that came from the door was dim, but it was there. She motioned to her brother. “Ladies first, Aether.”

“Gee, thanks. How kind,” he said with a roll of his eyes, then grabbed the ladder and slid down. He didn’t go far before landing on a catwalk, holding up his hand. Lumine passed him his bat, and he nodded. “Seems clear. You two can come on in.”

Paimon hastily floated down through the door, and Lumine followed, holding her bat in her teeth like a pirate. It was probably extremely bad for her teeth, but she was willing to bet it looked incredibly badass.

“You look like a dork,” Aether said with a snort. “Take that out of your mouth.”

“How’d you know?” Lumine grumbled, blushing slightly and grabbing her bat. She looked around, seeing they were on a narrow catwalk that led to some metal stairs down to the warehouse floor. From where she stood, Lumine could see that dozens of cubicles had been constructed, each of them with a mattress with some pillows and blankets that looked less then clean, along with some plastic totes or cardboard boxes that seemed to hold clothes or other small items. The sides were drywall or paneling, but the door was just a shower curtain.

The smell was atrocious, and Lumine spotted two portapotties near the end of the stairs that weres responsible for some, but not all of it. Thankfully, it was frigid in here too, so the smell wasn’t too bad.

And in each of the stalls was a girl. Some might have been able to be called women, but most looked to be younger than Lumine and her brother, and neither of them had graduated high school yet. There were also sounds coming from some of the stalls, some of it crying, others sounding more primal. The girls Lumine could see were huddled under their blankets, shivering or laying there and staring at the wall.

“Paimon,” Lumine said quietly. “Go back up, and wait until we call you.”

“But, Paimon can help! Paimon wants to rescue the kids too, and-”

“Go back outside, Paimon,” Lumine repeated. “We’re going to fight, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Aether and I have fought loads of times, you know that. You’re our best friend, but you’re no good in a fight, especially now.”

“W-well, Paimon is brave! Paimon can fight and-”

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Aether interrupted, smiling reassuringly at Paimon. “Go on. We’ll rescue the kids, then find you. If anyone comes for you, fly off and wait for us.”

“But what if you need to talk to someone! You need Paimon for that!” the fairy said desperately, tears appearing on her cheeks.

“If we do, we’ll shout for you, OK?” Lumine offered. “Just go be safe.”

“Well, alright… but you better not get hurt!” and with that, Paimon zipped back up the ladder. Aethers scrambled up, then pulled the latch shut, even as Paimon gasped and tried to get back in.

“Thanks,” Lumine said, turning her gaze back towards the brothel below her. “At the end of today, I still want Paimon to think I’m a good person.”

“Still think this is a stealth mission?” Aether asked, his tone grim and smile nowhere to be seen.

“More like the Cleansing of the Red Temple,” Lumine growled, her grip on her bat so tight the wood creaked slightly. “Let’s get loud.”

Despite that sentiment, it wasn’t so simple. There was an office of some sort in the corner, and guards posted at the exits. Aether got out a handful of ball bearings, Squinting and pointing one at the guard against the far wall. No one had noticed them crouching in the shadows yet, and the warehouse was fairly large. How many girls were in here?

Too many. Time to fix that.

Flicking the steel ball with his finger, there was a sharp crack, and an instant later, the guard’s head exploded, and he dropped to the ground with a clatter. There was enough noise that no one seemed to notice though, and Aether lined up his next shot.

Lumine had to fight back the bile in her mouth. It was one thing to decide that these bastards had to die. It was another to see her twin brother mercilessly execute one of them.

Another sharp crack, but Aether’s aim was off this time. The guard screamed, his left shoulder shattering into a bloody pulp as he went down in a shower of gore.

“Shit,” Aether growled, as the other guards started yelling, and more shouts and screams came from the girls. “That’s done it.”

Before they could even scramble down the stairs, the door to the office in the back corner slammed open, and a literal giant of a man surged out. Bellowing and angry, he looked around, shouting at his subordinates, though it sounded like “Fushawaka shithau malaka” to Lumine. It was probably rather profane though.

He was dressed in the biggest hoodie and sweatpants Lumine had ever seen, the fabric stretched tight over his skin. Not because he was fat, though he did have a slight gut, but because he was at least eight feet tall, with slate grey skin the texture of rhino hide, and a long muscular tail that swung out behind him. His hands only had three fingers and a thumb, and those ended with long, sharp nails. Lumine decided he was named Lizardman the Pimp.

And that he was going to die.

“Shit, another cape,” Lumine hissed, dropping down from the catwalk. “What do we do?!”

“The same thing we planned on doing,” Aether shouted back over the increasing din. “Ice these fuckers, and get these girls home!”

Two men, one not wearing pants, the other shirtless, burst from within the cubicles. Despite their state of dress, they were both armed, one with a pistol, the other with a switchblade. Lumine reached towards the one with the pistol, pointing her bat at him.

The man was screaming at her, what she couldn’t tell, but a look of befuddlement came over his face as the gun he’d been waving around vanished. He blinked, looking stupidly at the bat that had appeared in his hands.

“Just like paintball,” Lumine whispered to herself, and squeezed the trigger on her new gun. She was aiming for the center of mass on the man, but her shot was low, hitting him in the gut. He screamed loudly and went down, even as another ball bearing from Aether took out the one with a knife and no pants as his torso exploded.

“CAREFUL!” Lumine screamed at him. “Your shots are going all the way through the warehouse! You’re basically a railgun!”

“EVERYONE, GET DOWN!” Aether bellowed, for all the good it would do. It wasn’t like these people could understand them.

More guards, more gunfire, with Lumine swapping her pistol for a rifle when it ran dry, then swapping the rifle for another pistol when that ran out. It was a bit harder to trade up so to speak, giving her a bit of a headache, but she could manage it, and it both disarmed her opponents and kept her relevant, as unless there were some anvils handy for her to swap with light fixtures or something she didn’t see how she could really use her power to directly harm people.

On the other hand, Aether’s power was enormously destructive. He had an entire bag of ball bearings, and when Lizardman the Pimp attacked them, Aether took him down in a single shot as easily as he’d managed with the normal humans.

In less than five bloody horrific minutes, it was over. As soon as Lizardman the Pimp was taken out, the other guards shouted the same word over and over, one that Lumine figured probably meant “cape” or something, and ran away, some of them dropping their guns in their haste to flee.

That left Aether and Lumine alone in a now gore streaked hall, and with a Lizardman the Pimp who was actually still alive. He’d had his chest blown open, but his wound was knitting back together already. He was still out cold, and Lumine briefly considered checking to see if he could regenerate from a bullet to the brain.

Instead, she went over to where the porta potties were and promptly vomited until her stomach was completely empty. She could hear the sound of Aether retching as well, both of them violently ill after what they’d done. How many people had they killed? Ten? A dozen? Those fuckers had deserved death, but that didn’t mean that Lumine didn’t feel any less like a monster herself now.

When she turned back around, she saw nervous faces peering at her from behind curtains, though they quickly hid again, disappearing in a rustle of fabric.

“So, what do we do now?” Lumine rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, then grimacing at the streak it left.

“I’ll cover the bodies. Can’t do much about the blood, but…” Aether sighed. “We will need Paimon. None of these people can speak any language I’ve ever heard before.”

They ended up stuffing the bodies in the porta potties, then Aether went and found Paimon while Lumine tried to calm the panicked and crying girls. Well, and boys, it seemed this brothel had catered to all types.

“Hey, it’s OK! It’s OK! I’m a good guy! A hero! We came to rescue you,” Lumine told the girls, who were looking at her with either fear in the eyes, or a sort of dull lifelessness that made her feel sick to her empty stomach.

Thankfully, just as she was at her wits end, Paimon zipped over. “Paimon knew you would need her! Don’t worry, Lumine! Paimon is the greatest Travel Guide in all of, um, wherever we are.”

She chattered away at the girls, who were staring wide eyed at the fairy. Some of them looked like they couldn’t even be out of elementary school. Lumine strongly considered going back and putting that bullet in Lizardman the Pimp. No. It wasn’t worth it, not now.

After the rescued slaves talked back to Paimon, with more peering out of their stalls and inching forward to see the sparkling little fairy that trailed stars in her wake, Paimon turned to the twins. “Paimon has explained that we’re the Travelers, and that we’re heroes! Paimon has told them they’re safe, and that there will be no more bad guys!”

“Good,” Aether said with a nod. Then he grimaced. “But, well… do they have anywhere to go? Should we call the police, or whatever they have here?”

“Paimon will ask,” the fairy agreed, and burbled away at the newly freed youths. Several started crying, and one, a girl who looked to be about Lumine’s age, so around 16 or 17, stepped forward. She had dark hair and skin, and sores on her lips and body. Despite the cold, she was wearing only a tank top and thin pajama bottoms, with bare feet.

“This is Trinity! She says that some of the kids were kidnapped by the bad men, but others, um… oh no!” Paimon’s expression fell, and she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with chubby little hands. “She says… Trinity says… her mom sold her to these men, to be…she won’t say, but Paimon thinks she was sold to the bad men and they’ve been very cruel!”

“An understatement,” Aether sighed. He glanced over at Lizardman, who had mostly regrown his chest by this point. “Right. Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

They found piles of cash in the office, and more in a large safe that Aether blasted the door open on.

“Money! Oh, Paimon loves money!” the fairy said eagerly, swooping down and scooping up armfulls of cash. She turned around hopefully, a cautious smile on her lips. “Is this… is this enough for us to go home?”

“It’s not for us,” Lumine said, knowing what her brother was thinking. “Count out… how much? A thousand what was it… dollars?”

“Each. And five hundred for Paimon, so $2500,” Aether agreed. He picked up a stack of bills, and handed them to Trinity. “Tell her the money is for all the girls. But don’t touch the, uh, the bags of white powder. Those aren’t food.”

“Right!” Paimon eagerly turned to the girls, then hesitated. She looked down at the money she was holding in her hands. “But, if we give away the money… will we ever be able to get home?”

“We’ll find more money,” Lumine assured her little friend, patting Paimon on the back. “There’s always more bad guys, right? We can just beat them up and take their stuff.”

“That… that sounds a lot like stealing to Paimon…” the little fairy said, looking rather concerned at the prospect.

Thinking fast, Lumine said, “We’re like… heroic thieves! Robbing from the rich, and giving to the needy.”

“Which includes us,” Aether agreed.

“Oh. Well, that works for Paimon!” Turning around, the fairy explained to her audience that the money was theirs to take. They were shocked at first, but Trinity stepped forward, and they began divvying up the cash.

Even as that was happening, Aether tapped Lumine on the shoulder. “We’ve gotta go. Paimon, tell someone to call the cops and warn them that Lizardman the Pimp is gonna wake up soon. They don’t want to be here when that happens.”

With that, they left the office, slinking away before they were noticed. Lumine did put a bullet into Lizardman the Pimp, but only his kneecaps. That would probably slow him down for a while.

They stepped out together into the cold night, and Lumine looked up at the sky. There were very few stars visible, though if they had been out, they would have been unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t sure if that was because they were at a different latitude, or if the sky on this world was simply alien. She shivered, wrapping her arms about herself, until there was a twinkling sound, and Paimon nestled up against her shoulder.

“Paimon is pooped. Fighting bad guys is hard work,” the little fairy yawned.

“You didn’t even do any fighting,” Lumine giggled, but walked on, letting Paimon snuggle up to her.

“Hmph. Paimon is super strong! Just you wait, she’ll be a mighty Adventurer just like the Travelers!” She puffed out her cheeks, floating up and planting her hands on her hips, keeping pace with Aether and Lumine as they walked.

“Maybe we’ll leave the big one to you next time,” Aether teased, which made Paimon go red.

“Uh, on second thought, maybe Paimon will leave the fighting to you two. You’re super strong!” Zipping over to Aether as they headed away from the warehouse, Paimon hovered at about head height, her brow wrinkled in thought. “Were you always this strong?”

“No, we didn’t have powers until we came here,” Lumine said with a shake of her head. “You know that.”

“But, Paimon has heard you talk about fighting all kinds of bad guys and winning prizes and stuff,” the fairy pointed out.

“Those were just games. You know, like on a computer,” Aether said with a shake of his head.

Looking plaintive, Paimon shook her head, her halo bobbing about her head, glowing faintly in the dimness. “Paimon doesn’t know what a computer is… did they have them where we’re from?”

“Honestly… I don’t know if we are from the same place,” Lumine admitted, shoving her hands in her hoodie’s pocket. “We found you in the same place as those vials, while that giant angel was attacking the city.”

“She was super scary,” Paimon said, shuddering at the memory. “Paimon was glad to run away from that! But, that’s right, you got your powers from drinking those vials, and Paimon was trapped in that glass. Paimon was just sleeping, but Paimon had bad dreams, and now Paimon doesn’t remember where she’s from!”

“Well, you can always come with us,” Lumine offered. “We just want to get back home.”

“Hmm,” Paimon considered that, then nodded. “OK! But first, Paimon’s belly is rumbling!” She rubbed her stomach, and a faint gurgle could be heard. “Can we get some yummy food? We have money now!”

“Sure. We saw that building that looked like a restaurant a few miles back,” Aether agreed with a shrug.

“We shouldn’t spend too much, we’ll need money if we want to learn anything about how we came here, or how we can get home,” Lumine said hesitantly, trying to figure out just how much $2500 was. She sort of understood how much a dollar was, as they’d had to scrounge up some money to buy food in the half a year they’d been stuck in this world, but a majority of the time they’d stolen it.

“Oh, cheer up! Paimon has the money she kept for herself. Paimon will buy everyone dinner!” the fairly said cheerily, holding up several bills. She frowned, then looked again. “Uh, this one’s a five, and this ones a ten… oh no, uh, maybe you’ll have to order the cheap food…”

“We’ll take it out of your share,” Lumine laughed. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Together, the Travelers walked off into the night. It was the first time the mysterious wandering heroes and their fairy companion would be reported, but far from the last.

Walking off the runway of the plane, Lotte couldn’t help but look around fearfully. She expected heavily armed PRT Troopers, or worse, Legend himself waiting for her. But no, it was just your average airport, not particularly busy, but also not especially quiet. People moved off the plane, and Lotte hurried forward, carrying the one small bag that held all her remaining worldly possessions. There wasn’t much in it: a little money, some toiletries, and a few articles of clothing.

But not her costume. That was in an alley in Munich somewhere. Hopefully, anyone who found it would think she was dead.

As she scurried towards the airport exit, a tall man with broad shoulders in a nice business suit waited with a sign that read Lotte Becker. Her heart skipped a beat, but he matched the description she’d been given. Mousy brown hair, glasses, a neatly trimmed mustache. She hurried over to him, smiling nervously.

“Um, are you from Medhall?”

“Yes. You must be Lotte.” He lowered the sign, and stuck out a hand. “James Fliescher. How was your flight?”

“Oh, you know, long,” Lotte said, glancing around again, feeling like everyone was watching her, that they knew. “But it’s good to be here.”

“Of course. Right this way,” Fliescher said, motioning for Lotte to follow him. He led her out to a parking garage and to a gray sedan, even opening the door for her. She slid inside, clutching her luggage to herself.

“So. You were one of the Gesellschaft,” he said as Lotte was buckling herself in.

She squeaked, eyes going wide, but nodded. “I-I was there at Munich, yes. Is it…is it safe to talk? They say He can hear you, you know.”

“He?” Flescher asked, frowning at Lotte, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on her headrest.

She nodded, biting her lip. “You know,” she dropped her voice, “Barbados.”

Flescher snorted, and turned around to the back the car up. “That’s across the ocean. You’re in Brockton Bay now, not Germany.”

“Er, yes, I suppose,” Lotte agreed, but she still trembled slightly, remembering the sight of a god’s fury unveiled, and that horrible, awful music.

The car ride was quiet, with Fliescher making an abortive attempt at small talk that Lotte answered in monosyllables. She was exhausted, not just from her flight, but from the desperate running she’d been doing for the past two weeks as she fled Germany. First to France, then Great Britain, and now finally here to America. She prayed it would be far enough to escape the Wrath of Barbados, but her dreams were still filled with arrows that struck with the force of hurricanes and those horrible green eyes. Fighting back a sob, Lotte squeezed her eyes shut, recalling her shame.

The drive across the city took nearly an hour until they arrived at a large building with the words “Medhall” on the front. Fliescher led Lotte inside, past a smiling secretary, to an elevator that rode all the way to the top floor. There, he showed her into a private conference room. “There are drinks in the fridge there. They’ll be by shortly with lunch.”

“Thank you,” Lotte said quietly, sinking into a plush executive chair. She turned it to stare blankly out at the city below her, gazing out at the bay and the bustling port. Then she heard the wind, and shuddered, turning away, cringing in on herself.

Fliescher was already gone though, and she sat alone at a table meant for twenty. For how long, she didn’t know, time had lost most of its meaning to her. It couldn’t have been too long however, until a tall and imposing man in a finely cut navy blue three piece suit and red tie stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

Jumping to her feet, Lotte smiled nervously as the man looked her up and down. Max Anders. She knew him, but not who he really was.

“So. You’re the survivor?” he asked bluntly. He was a few years older than her in his mid-twenties, with piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders and a build that indicated he was heavily muscled. He had a jaw to die for, and blond hair that was cut fashionably, with three days of carefully cultivated stubble on his chin.

“Y-yes sir,” Lotte said, bowing slightly. “I…I was called-”

“Stuka. My father never mentioned you,” Max said, coming over to tower over Lotte. Despite her powers, she couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

“I wasn’t very important. A new recruit, really,” she admitted. Indeed, she’d only been a part of the Gesellschaft for less than a week before it had been utterly destroyed. They hadn’t thought much of her, but they’d needed every aryan cape they could find.

Max put a hand out, tilting Lotte’s chin up and studying her like she was an animal he was about to buy. “Stand up straight. Smile. You’d look prettier if you smiled.”

Blushing, she eagerly did as he bid, giving him her most coquettish smile. Well, the best she could manage with the frayed and ragged bundle of nerves she was at the moment. He looked strong. He was rich. Maybe this American could hide her from Barbados. Perhaps she could yet escape the winds of judgment…

“Better. You may sit,” he told her, taking a seat himself. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers before him. She nervously sat, leaning forward, crossing her legs, trying to appear more confident than she felt.

“So. Did you know who my father was?” Max asked.

Lotte shook her head, but added, “Was he…Allfather? I didn’t know his real name, but-”

“Yes. Richard Anders. Allfather. My father.” Those blue eyes were as cold as winter, and Lotte couldn’t suppress a shiver. “Executed by Barbados and his Knights.”

Licking her lips, Lotte decided to not mention that Allfather had been killed by the Endbringer they had called Khonsu. “Y-yes.”

“How did you escape?” Max demanded, cracking his knuckles ominously.

Thoughts of prevarication fled, and Lotte stammered, “I…I was a nobody. Not even a full member of the Gesellschaft. I saw Germany being overrun by Untermensch, and-”

“I do not wish to hear your history. I wish to hear of the battle, and how you got out,” Max demanded.

“Yes, sir. Um, I-I was only a minor cape. I had been fighting against the knights, away from the headquarters. M-my squad leader had been killed, I’d only survived because my powers let me absorb kinetic energy. I was trying to find the others to regroup when…when Khonsu came. And He…that is, Barbados…took to the skies.”

“I see. So, you were on the periphery, and fled,” Max said, his tones chill and ominous.

“N-no! Uh, not at first. I knew it was an Endbringer and an Archon, and that I-”

“Archon?” Max interrupted again, leaving Lotte feeling ever more dazed and confused.

“Y-yes. Um, Barbados, he’s the Anemo Archon, as the Raiden Shogun is the Electro Archon,” Lotte explained hastily, wringing her hands. “I-I did not know until…until I saw…”

“Well. Go on,” Max demanded, and Lotte closed her eyes.

“What I saw…Sir, you can’t begin to understand. I’ve seen powerful capes. I saw your father fight the Knights, nearly kill Legend himself. He was strong, far stronger than me, both of them. But Barbados and Khonsu? I might as well have been an insect. If I charge up enough, I can tangle with some mid-level capes, maybe even contribute against someone like Legend. But those two? I was watching a god and a demon fight. I needed your father, the Fuhrer, Red Lotus! I tried to return to the headquarters, to join them in resisting those monsters.”

“So you returned to the base. Did you find my father?” Max prompted, his tone commanding.

“I…I was too late. The base had been hit by the Endbringer. There was nothing left. Not even a body. The attacks, they aged buildings and people hundreds of  years in moments,” Lotte explained.

“Really? I had heard Barbados countered the time bubbles,” Max said.

Lotte swallowed. She would have to tell him. “Your father was…stronger than me. I was caught in one attack when I tried to find survivors at the headquarters, but-”

“How did you survive when my father lived? He was stronger than you, as you say.”

Hanging her head, tears forming on her cheeks, Lotte admitted, “When I was caught in the bubble…I gave in to my fear. I…I sang.”

I grant you freedom, Lotte. But I will always know you were Stuka. Freedom does not mean that you are free from the consequences of your actions. You will yet face judgment.

She hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut, heart pounding, those green eyes blazing in her mind once more. Though she had fled across the ocean and Barbados was thousands of miles away, she still felt as though he was right behind her, an arrow nocked to his bow, ready to slay her where she stood.

There was a creaking of wheels and leather, and a heavy hand fell on Lotte’s shoulder. She flinched, opening her eyes, and saw Max’s face only centimeters from her own, those intense blue eyes boring into her.

But they, at least, could not see into her soul.

“You are saying my father, the stubborn old fool, refused to do something as simple as sing a song, and let himself die instead?”

Flat, no emotion. Lotte thought of lying, but she knew it was pointless. She’d run as far as she could.

“I wasn’t there. I don’t know for certain, but…y-yes. I think so,” she admitted. “I saw others trapped in a bubble turn to dust. They didn’t sing. Those that did…we survived. I betrayed my race. F-forgive me…”

For a long moment, Max simply stared at her, then he removed his hand, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “That fool. He could have unbent long enough to save himself. What is a song? Easy enough to do that, and live to fight another day. He let himself die. It seems you are more intelligent than that rabble in Europe tend to be. Perhaps I will have a use for you.”

Relief flooded through her, and Lotte eagerly nodded. “I-I still have my powers! I’m not the strongest, but I am strong enough! I will serve you, and Empire 88 eagerly!”

“Hmm, perhaps,” Max rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He sighed again and shook his head. “My wife, Heith, has not been comforting of late. She threatened me with divorce some weeks back, actually.”

“That is…unfortunate?” Lotte said uncertainly, not sure where this was going.

Max smiled at her. “I could use some comfort, at this time. You are pretty when you smile.”

Hastily, Lotte pasted a smile on her lips, and Max nodded at her. Then she slid out of her chair, onto her knees, looking up uncertainly at Max. He put a hand on her head, and spread his legs a little wider.

She would do anything to escape the Winds. To hide herself from the gaze of Barbados a little longer. Shame? What was shame to her. Besides, this man was rich and powerful, and a good aryan. She reached to pull her top off, then for his belt.

“Let me comfort you, sir,” she cooed as he leaned back in his chair.

“Kaiser,” he told her.

She hesitated, then added, “Yes, my Kaiser.”

For a little while longer, she would live. For a little while longer, she would run. And perhaps, one day, she would have friends powerful enough to protect her from Barbados, and his army of subhuman filth.

Stepping out of the portal, Doctor Mother adjusted her glasses, then looked around the room. A simple lab set up, with David waiting for her, sitting on the examination table in a medical gown, looking down at his hands. He looked up when she entered and started. “Doc? It’s just a routine exam, there’s no need for you to-”

“I think there is. Besides, it’s been too long since I visited this world in person. Not since White Sands in, what, October of last year?” she said briskly, walking over and picking up the clipboard on the stainless steel counter. The room itself was all metal and chrome, with bright white artificial lights, the only comfort a high stool with a thin pad on it, and the white padding on the medical examination table.

“November,” David said with a grimace. “Has Keith-”

“Still refuses any infusions,” Doctor Mother said briskly, dropping the clipboard onto the table. It was bad. David’s powers hadn’t dropped precipitously like they’d done in December of the previous year, but there had been a steady drop in all his numbers. She picked up a vile, inserting it into a needle gun and turning to David. “Unlike you, who insist on these regularly.”

“I burn through my powers, and fast. I need more,” David said, his hands balling into fists and his jaw clenching. “I’m not nearly strong enough. We didn’t lose at Loy Yang, but-”

“But you’ve got a chip on your shoulder about the Japanese still,” Doctor Mother said, stepping over to David as he rolled up the sleeve on his gown and held out his left bicep. “They didn’t drive Behemoth off on their own. You were the deciding factor there, I think.”

“And if Raiden had come? What about Barbatos?” Eidolon demanded through clenched teeth. “How extraneous would I have been then?”

“Barbatos hasn’t been seen since Eurovision five months ago, and Raiden is still pursuing her… vendetta,” Doctor Mother said with a shrug. “Regardless, Khonsu might still be out there. We won’t know for certain for several more rotations.”

Then she pressed the needle into David’s arm. He didn’t even grunt, though Doctor Mother had it on good authority that shots of the solution were intensely painful by the way sweat broke out on David’s forehead and his muscles clenched.

“Pain killer?” she asked, reaching for a pill bottle.

“No. I’ll be fine,” David growled, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He let out a long ragged sigh, and shook his head. Doctor mother waited as he swallowed reflexively a few times, then lowered his chin to meet her eyes again. “What if we’re wrong, Doc?”

“About?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you doubt our mission. You were ever the most dedicated.” And the one with the biggest Messiah complex, but when you were granted godlike powers at the tender age of 17, you tended to develop such things.

“No, not that. Just… I’ve been thinking. If Khonsu really is dead,” Eidolon swallowed, hanging his head. “Does the world even need us?”

“Yes. Because Venti is a drunken fool, and Raiden is too busy playing video games when she’s not enacting extrajudicial killings on foreign soil,” Doctor Mother said icily. “They’re powerful. We can use them. But they’re only two pieces on the board. You’re still vital in this game, David.”

“Game? Odd way to put it. Is this really a game to you, Doc?” David demanded, his eyes flashing.

She sighed and sat down on the stool, removing her glasses and tucking them in the pocket of her white lab coat. “David, let me be frank. I have given everything to fighting this war. Just as you have. You know that. Unlike you, I have actually seen a living Entity. And it is more frightening than you can comprehend.”

“I’ve been to the Garden. I know,” David said quietly, clenching and unclenching his left fist and rubbing at the shoulder, grimacing. “But, maybe Keith’s right. Maybe we can win.”

“That is my prayer. As it is yours. As it has been these many long years,” Doctor Mother said quietly. She didn’t pray. Not anymore. Hadn’t since she’d seen a little girl from a backwater village on a pre-industrial world drive a knife into a god's heart. “But we cannot relent if that is to happen.”

“Someone has to make the hard choices,” David mused. He nodded. “I suppose.”

“The hard choices, for a dream of peace. Of survival,” Doctor Mother agreed. She didn’t believe it though. They would lose this war. This was humanity, raging against the dying of the light. It was a beautiful dream, but it was only a dream. Even Raiden and Venti gave only so little hope to that dream. Enough to keep it alive, but… no more.

Though you are held captive by your doubts, your heart will continue to Dream.

David was saying something again, but she didn’t catch it, shaking her head and raising a hand. “Did you… hear that? Do something?” she asked, but then it came again.

You sow the seeds of hope, and water them with your tears, guarding Life fiercely.

“Doc? Doc, are you OK?” David’s voice said, but it was as though he were fair away, speaking through a long tube, and she didn’t quite hear him.

“A voice, clear, crisp, but like that of a child,” she whispered, grabbing the clipboard, her pen racing across the paper as her heart thundered in her chest.

Knowledge is your sword, and Wisdom your Shield: your Ambition is for learning.

“Doc! MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!” David was shouting, but her pen continued to race across the page as she transcribed every word.

Let your Vision Guide you, Daughter of Samsara.

Light burst forth in front of Doctor Mother, an emerald green glow that was full of life. She dropped her pen and clipboard in her haste to grab it, snatching the light and covering it with her hands for a moment, holding her breath. Then she held it up to her face, opening her hands to display a small, tear drop-shaped crystalline object with a green heart with five buds on the outside, and two wings within.

“Virgin Mother protect us,” David gasped, his eyes going wide as saucers as he stared at what Doctor Mother held shakily up to her face.

Feet pounded behind her, and Doctor Mother turned serenely to see the red-faced medical staff and two security officers behind her.

“I will need a full physical immediately. Take my vitals, now,” Doctor Mother said, shooing David off the examination table as she stripped off her lab coat.

“Ma’am, what is-” one of the doctors began, but David had already grabbed a blood pressure cuff and was placing it on her arm.

“The object is emerald green, about five, no… six centimeters at its longest point, three and a half at the body,” Doctor Mother recited, clutching her Vision in her hands.

“A Vision? Anemo?” David demanded, pumping up the cuff as the doctors raced about, one coming over to peer into Doctor Mother’s eyes and check for dilation.

“No,” she said, clutching her Vision tightly despite what it would do to the readings. “I think not.”

Her heart beat inside her chest, and that seed of hope, rarely tended, long thought dead, began to take root. What this heralded, she did not know for certain.

She only knew that her dream was possible. She would make it possible. She had her Vision now. And with that in her hands, nothing was impossible.

And across the world, by the waters of Babylon, the Dreamer opened her eyes.

Author’s note:

Next: Sapientia Oromasdis 1: It Was Her Birthday

There was a time skip, but we’ll go back in time after a couple of chapters to cover what happened in the ten months between The Battle of Munich and the Radish’s Arrival.

PRT Threat Assessment: Farasha

The Butcher of Dasman Palace during the Second Iran-Iraq War, 1995

Series: Genshin Impact

Cape Name: Farasha

Civilian Name: Hutah Taha

Aliases: Butcher of Dasman Palace, Scourge of Khuzestan, The Scarlet Butterfly

Disposition: Member of the Special Action Guard of Iraq

Location: Baghdad, Iraq. Farasha typically stays close to Iraqi leadership and centers of power, though she does tend to wander the city.

General Information: Not much is known of the girl Hutah Taha, aside from originally being from Baghdad, and being a daughter of a minor Ba’ath party official. What her trigger event was exactly is unknown, but it is suspected to be related to the death of her mother. What is known is that at the age of 11 in 1989, Farasha was born. Her trigger event is suspected to have been incredibly bloody, as was the rest of her career. The exact circumstances were deliberately hidden by the Ba’ath Party and Iraqi leadership, so we can only speculate.

What is known is that in the next year, a 12-year-old girl was the single most instrumental force in the Iraqi conquest of Kuwait. Footage of a young girl, surrounded by crimson butterflies destroying entire military units and immolating tank battalions was trumpeted to the world by Iraqi propaganda. The aftermath of the massacre at Dasman Palace was not publicly aired, but grim information leaked out: The few Kuwaiti capes had made a last stand, including Shakush who was at the time considered the strongest cape in the Persian Gulf, fully a dozen of them against the Republican Guard and one little girl.

There were no survivors, save for Farasha. Both the guard and the Kuwaiti capes were slaughtered. One video that was smuggled out by an asset showed Shakush using his hammers to obliterate the little girl, only for her to explode into a shower of crimson butterflies. A moment later, the soldiers with the girl were consumed in bloody flames, and Farasha stepped out of the flames as Shakush ignited from within.

She was also involved in the violent and bloody Second Iran-Iraq War, and instrumental in bringing it to a close. This time, Tehran had comparable capes to counter her, and spent a great deal of effort in attempting to assassinate or kill Farasha before she ever took the field. None of their capes or wetwork teams managed to stand against her, save for Fahala Alsahra, whose constructs were largely immune to Farasha’s abilities. Their bloody stalemate lasted a month until the UN was finally able to broker a peace deal between Baghdad and Tehran. The casualties from the war were well over 250,000, with at least 10,000 dead attributed directly to Farasha.

In the years since the end of the war, Farasha has been largely inactive, save for killing a few capes who attempted to overthrow the Ba’ath party or refused to join the Special Action Squad. She has been noted to spend time in the company of Doctor Bashir Saeed, who seems to be her physician. The two of them were acquainted as children, both of their fathers being ranking members of the Ba’ath party.

Farasha has refused any invitations to join in a battle against an Endbringer, and has expressed extreme dislike of Americans and American capes in general, especially the Protectorate. She has not strayed outside of Iraqi territory for her entire life, and shows no inclination to do so. Should she ever do so, she is to be classified as an S Class Threat.

Personality: Despite having one of the largest body counts of any cape as well as being terrifyingly powerful, Farasha is generally described as upbeat, cheerful, and humorous. She does not generally pick fights with others unless directed to do so by Ba’ath Party leadership, and she is known to help the citizens of Baghdad solve minor problems or chase down petty criminals, despite being greatly feared. The exception is that she seems to have something of a good reputation amongst the children of the ghettos there, and is known to frequently give them candies or sweets.

She is known to personally seek out any parahumans or Vision Holders within Iraq to recruit them into the Special Action Squad, as well as personally welcome any capes that escape from the pogroms in Syria or Saudi Arabia. Those who she recruits describe her as pleasant, cheerful, upbeat, and utterly terrifying.

Classification: Mover 5, Shaker 10, Brute 11+, Breaker 8, Striker 11, Changer 6

Mover 5: The lowest of Farasha’s ratings should not be underestimated. She is able to teleport distances of up to a mile, taking on the form of a swarm of butterflies of flame, or transferring herself to an already formed swarm. She can also move much more quickly than your standard human, though at speeds that are containable with the right preparation or equipment.

Shaker 10: The most terrifying of Farasha’s abilities is the wide area over which her powers can be exerted, and the horrific results when she does. She can send forth a massive swarm of butterflies, composed of blood and flame. Any organic material, including living beings, that are touched by these butterflies will immolate, transforming into butterflies themselves. The largest observed usage of this power was at the Battle of Shaykhun, where Farasha’s swarm reached numbers in the tens of thousands, wiping out several invading Iranian brigades. Tanks, jets, and thousands of soldiers were turned into burning butterflies, stopping the Iranian advance. Being inside of a vehicle or building will not save you, unless it is airtight and extremely durable. Farasha’s butterflies can melt through an inch of steel to get to their victims, and they seem to seek out living targets within an area so long as she directs them to do so.

What this would do in a major metropolitan area is too grisly to imagine, and is responsible for Dasman Palace.

Brute 11+:  A point that must be made is that Farasha is her butterflies. She seems to be able to reconstitute her form from the butterflies when killed, should a large enough number of them exist. As that would require her killing only one or two people and turning them into butterflies, on the battlefield it is almost guaranteed she can do so. She can also use her butterflies to restore any injuries she takes, whether that be a missing limb or head. It is speculated that so long as one of her butterflies still exists, she is not yet dead, as a touch from one would theoretically allow her to reconstitute from the explosion of the unfortunate soul. There are an extremely small number of capes that are able to extinguish her butterflies in a large enough area to truly put her down. All others should evacuate, as the presence of any civilians or parahumans with insufficient defenses would result in only more insects for the swarm.

Breaker 8:  Farasha can turn into a swarm of her butterflies at will, and then reappear in her physical body from another part of her swarm. The butterflies can exist at least up to a mile away from her before they fade away, and they have been known to flutter about her for several hours before winking out. This means that with a large enough number of butterflies, Farasha can stay in her Breaker state for an indefinite period of time, provided there are enough people to fuel her swarm. The butterflies themselves seem to be made of burning blood, though none have been able to be studied closely due to their extreme hazard. They burn at a temperature hot enough to melt steel, and can fly at least 30mph.

Striker 11:  Farasha can kill with a touch, or with one of her butterflies, which she can conjure up with her own blood. She carries a knife with her for the purpose of cutting herself to let loose a butterfly, along with a deadly spear known as the Staff of Homa. This contains blood within the spear that Farasha can ignite at will, which in her hands is always a deadly threat. There are no known capes that have survived an attack from Farasha who did not have some sort of changer ability to alter their biochemistry so they lacked blood, or who had some sort of invincibility of at least Alexandria level. Even capes with some form of invulnerability defense have been worn down and killed as Farasha drew and ignited their blood.

Changer 8: While Farashaw’s butterflies individually could be extinguished without too much trouble, the sheer number of them makes her incredibly dangerous. Even in high winds or rain storms, simple water and gusts are not enough to completely remove their threat. Because of her ability to turn into them at will or cut herself and create one, Farasha is extremely dangerous and hard to contain. Again, it cannot be overstated that as long as there is even one butterfly left for her to change into, Farasha is a deadly and persistent threat.

Recommended Strategies:

Immediately evacuate all civilians and PRT personnel, as well as all Protectorate capes without at least a class 7 Invulnerability power. Farasha is an extremely powerful cape, and has thoroughly earned her reputation. She is by far the most powerful cape in the Middle East, and one of the most dangerous globally. Out of the Protectorate’s Capes, only a select few are capable of stopping Farasha, and they would be immediately summoned if Farasha became a threat. This is a situation where numbers are only a hindrance, not a help. The average PRT trooper is a liability against Farasha, and should evacuate immediately.

Addendum: Something odd has happened to Farasha since the arrival of Kusanali. Further analysis is needed, but for now, all her categories should be downgraded to no higher than 4, pending Thinker review.

The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 22

Carmen Dei 22: An Aria for the Ages

They called it the Battle of Munich. That was the official report that came out from the PRT, largely considered to be the leading expert on Endbringers and cape affairs. There was some intense discussion and arguments about if Khonsu, a name given to the monster after the fact, had indeed been an Endbringer. The alternate theory was that it had been some sort of Nazi Superweapon unleashed by the Gesellschaft, but that was largely discredited by Legend.

“The Beast of Munich, popularly called Khonsu, was an Endbringer,” Legend confirmed on live TV some days later. “It was slain by Lord Barbados in his defense of the city. That it arrived at the hour it did only shows how fortunate we are that we had already rallied to defeat the evil of Gesellschaft.”

In Germany, however, the event was given a different name: The Concert of Winds. It became the first Endbringer battle where live footage was not only readily available, but no effort was made by various organizations to stem the flood of information out of Munich.

Newsreels were flooded with videos of families singing together when trapped in a time bubble, only for the effect to end after a verse or two. More footage of neighborhoods coming together in impromptu choirs, or even of hodgepodge orchestras playing together in shelters. There was even one famous short video of brother and sister, Mina and Heinz Schafer ages 5 and 9, trapped in a time bubble away from their parents recording themselves singing while Mina played on a little toy piano. At the end of their playing, twin swirling green Anemo Visions appeared and fell into their hands just as their parents ran to them, weeping and embracing their freed children.

And through it all, the shots of an angel in the sky, wielding a bow, battling a demon. The footage was incredible and nearly impossible to believe, but the multitude of evidence was undeniable: Barbatos, called the Anemo Archon and the Angel of Freedom, had appeared just as the Endbringer had, and battled the monster to a standstill.

The entire fight, from the first appearance of Khonsu until both angel and demon vanished from the skies, had been 37 minutes and 42 seconds. For 28 minutes and 13 seconds, the Tone Deaf Bards had led the city in singing Ode To Joy. Skeptics abounded, but the evidence was undeniable.

The destruction was minor, and the casualties were minimal. Most cities visited by an Endbringer, even those where the Endbringer was quickly repelled, suffered near total destruction and billions if not trillions of dollars in damages, to the point that many were abandoned or condemned. The death tolls were always catastrophic when a major metropolitan area was hit, with hundreds of thousands of deaths being on the low end, and millions being the high point, such as the destruction of Moscow with over six million dead.

The casualty count from the Concert of Winds took some time to fully tally, but early estimates had the total number somewhere around 1000. That turned out to be overly pessimistic, even if one included the casualties from the confrontation between the Gesellschaft and the Knights of Favonius. Eight hundred fifty-three. In a city of 1.1 million people, less than nine hundred died in an Endbringer attack. It was the best argument critics had against this being the work of an Endbringer. In almost a decade, no Endbringer attack had resulted in such light losses.

The economic devastation was somewhat more severe, totaling hundreds of millions of marks. Again, most of that had been caused in the battle between the Knights and the Gesellschaft, including the near-total destruction of the Alter Hof. There was some disagreement if it had been the Nazis or the Endbringer that had destroyed the historic site, but it was a moot point. The fact remained that Munich had come through the storm in a miraculous fashion.

In the days that followed, Katherine Schmidt, also known as the cape Shinobi, and to her friends as Cookie, took charge of the situation, and the Knights of Favonius led the relief and reconstruction efforts. The face of the Grandmaster, with or without her mask, became famous throughout Germany and the world, and she became synonymous with names like Alexandria, Mushu, or Farasha as one of the most powerful and influential capes in the entire world.

Through all of this, however, one question was on everyone’s lips: Where was Barbatos? Where were the Tone Deaf Bards? What had become of the Savior of Munich? Was the Endbringer truly slain?

The world held its breath…and waited.

Cities were an invention that Contessa would personally have preferred had never occurred. To her, a large gathering of people was over one hundred. A big group might get as large as a thousand, but there had been only one time when she’d ever been to what she had then called a city in her youth, when her family had gone to purchase new bronze tools for their small village. She had never seen so many people in her life: hundreds of them in giant buildings as tall as a tree and more horses, pigs, and sheep than she had ever seen in her life.

The thing she remembered most though was the smell. The open sewage, the animal manure in the streets, the unwashed bodies pressed together. She had felt panicked and claustrophobic then, clinging to her father and uncle at the sight of such a metropolis.

What folly that had been. One of those wooden hovels wouldn’t even be considered of moderate size in Paris. It wouldn’t have even been called a town by the standards of this world, barely even a village. She’d heard people call Paris dirty and smelly, but she frankly didn’t understand that. Cigarettes? Try the smoke of a hundred cook fires, or the smell of a smithy, not to mention the lack of animal or human waste in the streets.

If not for her Path, guiding her through the crowds, the old panic might have returned and made Contessa nearly catatonic. As it was, she clutched the comforting weight of the Magic 8 Ball in her pocket and seamlessly wove through the endless press of humanity. Today, she braved her most challenging and terrifying obstacle yet:

Disneyland Paris.

While not in Paris proper, that would have been even worse, the suburb of Chessy was more than crowded enough in Contessa’s estimation. Thankfully, she was able to skip the lines for entrance, finding her way to an open side door and simply walking right in with a clipboard and name badge that looked official enough. She had no idea how to speak French, but her Path gave her the words she would need to fake it, though only in 6.3% of possible outcomes would that even be required.

Aside from the minor details of dodging security and making her way unnoticed through the throngs, Contessa kept asking her Path the same question: How do I meet Venti Luft, the one called Barbados?

Stepping out onto the main avenue, packed with tourists, Contessa gave herself over completely to her Path. The stress from the press of people vanished, along with any need to make choices or to even to think consciously. It was like she became a passenger in her own body, her power taking control as her feet walked upon the path, her body seamlessly moving and turning to avoid bumping into people. It was relaxing, easy, and felt safer than trying to navigate this mad world of untamed spirits and unchecked magic.

Contessa would never believe that this “science” was anything other than a large group of wizards imprisoning various spirits within their devices by some arcane art. How else could a man make something that flew? Magic was the only possible explanation.

Still, this was supposedly the “magic kingdom” and Contessa watched with interest at the shops and various attractions she passed by. She didn’t have the cultural appreciation for them, but it did feel like wandering into the land of spirits, to see totems and symbols of power brought to life for these people. Was this place not a grand temple or shrine to this Disney and his magical mouse?

Apparently, Contessa’s path determined that she either needed some calories, likely as she realized that she was extremely hungry, or that she needed to shake some heat by doing something innocuous. She stopped to purchase some food from a vendor. Or rather, the Path did, and Contessa watched herself purchase a hot dog, chips, and a soda. Distinctly “American” foods, but then again, this was supposed to be Main Street USA, despite being in France.

She did take over her body again to eat. People of this age, especially those in wealthy nations, had no appreciation for how wonderfully varied and rich their diets were. Her family had grown barley, cabbage, and a few other vegetables, and occasionally had some meat from animals they trapped or raised. But to have meat, with salt, and daily!? Wealth beyond imagination! Her Path had not required the soda she purchased, but the sugar was oh so wonderful, a delight she had never even dreamed of, better even than the rare honey she’d had as a child!

She ate as she walked, however, still following the Path, but taking a little extra time to savor her meal. It was easy enough to follow along, as her footsteps led her past Main Street USA and across the park to Frontier Land. It was rather disconcerting still to be amongst so many people, but she could ignore that for now, especially secure in her Path’s guidance as she was. It was like having her own little god in her head, a guardian spirit to light her way in a strange and terrifying world of wizards and demons.

At last, she came to Big Thunder Mountain, a monument to the hubris of man. Contessa had never ridden on a roller coaster. It would have been not only a waste of time, but it looked utterly terrifying. It had been scary enough the first time Contessa had ridden in a car. She didn’t mind as much now, but she still surrendered to her Path when she had to go at truly death-defying speeds. Which in her mind was anything faster than a horse could run.

Still, to achieve her goal and find the information her Path so desperately needed, she would brave it. Perhaps this would be the puzzle piece that would finally allow her to find the path that would allow humanity to survive the rampage of the Evil God. It was what she had worked for all these long years, and what she would continue to strive for, no matter the odds.

Even with that motivation, standing in this line was absolute hell. It was cold, less than 10° Celcius, and the day was overcast. She had on a coat, of course, her path had warned her of that, but it was still rather miserable waiting in line. She began to realize why her path had not had her drink the soda: she was going to need to relieve herself before she could get on the ride.

However, her Path also warned her that the person right in front of her was a kindly woman, and Contessa turned to her and begged, “Please, I need to use the toilet, but I don’t want to lose my place, will you hold it for me?”

“Of course, dearie, you go right ahead,” the woman said quietly, then more loudly, “I told you to go before we got on, now hurry, or we’ll miss it!”

Blushing, Contessa hurried to the lavatory and relieved herself, following her Path into the male one. She got some odd looks, but no one accosted her and she was in and out much more quickly than the women’s side would have been. She profusely thanked the woman back in the line, and did her best to ignore the dirty looks from the other people in the queue. They were inconsequential, her Path was not.

After what felt like an interminable amount of time, but was more like 35 minutes and 27 seconds, not counting the potty break, Contessa finally reached the front of the queue and was placed on the ride. She looked around, wondering where Venti was. Her Path still told her this was what she needed to do, and where she needed to be, but she did not see him, or understand why she had to be here yet. But this was the time and place of her promised meeting, so she waited patiently.

The ride began, and Contessa felt no small amount of trepidation. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she nearly let her Path assume control, but something stopped her. Despite herself, a scream escaped her throat, as the train pulling the coaster immediately descended into darkness. The ride bucked and jolted, and Contessa gripped the bar holding her in place for all she was worth.

Sudden moisture hit her face, and Contessa gasped for breath as the coaster went through fog, then a waterfall. She shrieked again, a gleeful grin spreading over her face as she raced along the path, her heart pounding, her face flushed. It was all going by so fast! It was thrilling, it was wonderful it was-

There was a loud mechanical shriek, and the ride suddenly jolted to a halt. At first, Contessa thought this was just part of the experience, and she eagerly looked around, ready for more. It was all so wonderful! Why had she never gone on a roller coaster before now!? Did Doctor Mother know how much fun these were?! She had to take Doormaker and Clairvoyant on this ride, they would love it!

Then the people around Contessa began to complain and grumble, and she heard the phrase “broken” repeated several times.

Under your seat.

The prompting was different from her path, but it was still clearly the voice of a spirit. Slowly, Contessa reached down under her seat, and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was some writing, along with a crude and rather rude drawing of a small figure in an outfit that didn’t belong in this time. Venti.

Hope you enjoyed the ride! Sorry, but your bard is in another castle! Maybe try some of the other rides at Disneyland? Well, when you get off. Hope you brought an umbrella! Next time, try using your brain instead of relying on that bit of a dead god in your head. You really should get that looked at: it’s not good for you at all.

XOXOXO

Barbie Toes the Large Latte

PS

Consider this revenge for what you’ve done to my name, Kloʊθoʊ

Contessa very nearly dropped the page, and felt all the blood drain out of her face. That name…that was a name she’d abandoned long ago. A name no one in this entire world knew. How…how had Venti…?

Then it started to rain. Gently at first, then a steady downpour. The people on the ride cried out in misery, and the paper in Contessa’s hands turned to a wet mess before dissolving into a worthless paste.

For her part, Contessa looked up at the sky, and laughed. Her Path had been wrong. Even now, it told her that she was meeting with Venti, despite him manifestly not being present at all. She reached into her pocket, dug out the Magic 8 Ball, shook it, and whispered, “Will I meet Venti today?”

She had to wipe the moisture away from its face, but she did manage to see its oracle: Very Doubtful.

“I may as well have asked you, hadn’t I?” Contessa giggled and slipped the Magic 8 Ball back into her pocket. In some ways, it was terrifying, to know the God of the Path could err.

But in others? Contessa felt like she’d just gotten her life back.

She decided she would go on several more rides before she departed the park, especially with the complimentary passes and even a free stay at a resort she got when she and the other riders were finally rescued more than two hours later.

She didn’t mind. It was nice to simply let life happen to her for once. It did raise one question though.

Where, exactly, was Venti?

The answer to the great question of “Where is Venti?” had a single and nearly universal answer: In a bar somewhere. It didn’t matter if you were asking that question on Earth Bet, Teyvat, or anywhere else. Wherever the wine and beer flowed, you were likely to find the Tone Deaf Bard.

“Mazel tov!”

Glasses and steins clinked together, and the whole party laughed and cheered as the two brides blushed and grinned, mostly at each other. They were dressed in their finest clothes, though not traditional wedding dresses. Naomi was wearing a floor length pale green silk dress, with a high cut bodice and flowers woven into her braided hair. Capri was wearing purple, which matched her newly violet eyes, though her skirt was only ankle length, it had far more ruffles and a bit of lace on the long sleeves.

Around them, their friends all laughed and cheered, raising glasses in salute. Chaim and Malka were there, along with a dozen other friends of Naomi’s, including a few cousins and her favorite uncle Levi. Notably absent were her parents. Capri had sent them an invitation after Naomi fretted about it for a full day and told her about it later, which had resulted in a very loud and long argument, even if in the end Naomi had cried and thanked Capri once she’d worked everything out.

She’d gotten a check from her father and a note that simply hoped she and her “friend” were in good health. Her mother’s far more scathing letter had somehow gotten lost in the mail when a mischievous breeze had blown it into a paper shredder at the post office.

“A toast!” Leon said, his voice slightly tremulous as he rose up in his wheelchair, glass held high. “To our two blushing brides! May the laws finally catch up with our hearts!”

There were cheers at that, and everyone drank, even Leon as he sank back in the wheelchair. He had come out of his imprisonment much the worse for wear. His Vision had been taken, and though it had been returned to him, he’d buried it with Gunter and no longer bore it. In the few days of his captivity, he seemed to have aged twenty years, even after Venti had healed the physical wounds. There was an empty place beside Leon’s chair, with a stein of Gunter’s favorite bitter. It was an emptiness that everyone felt, even on this day of celebration.

“So, are the two of you going to settle down now? Help me with running this crazy mess?” Cookie demanded, leaning back in her chair so that only two of its feet rested on the ground. She was one of the bridesmaids, though in this case, that meant she was wearing a purple dress similar to Capri’s and had her green hair hanging loose about her shoulders for once.

Capri and Naomi exchanged a look, then shrugged. “Nah,” Capri said. “Wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I was stuck in one place all the time.”

“We’ll go wherever the wind may take us. As we always have,” Naomi agreed, smiling and glancing down to the end of the table.

All eyes turned to the most famous man in Europe, er, well, most famous woman in Europe at the moment. Venti ostentatiously looked behind herself, as if someone was standing behind her, then back at the crowd around the table. “What?”

“Come on, Bro!” Itul said, leaning forward on the table. “What’re you gonna do now? I mean, they’re talking about rebuilding Frauenkirche Cathedral with a giant statue of you! Shit, half the country’s converted to, uh, whatever religion you are. Even the pope said you’re cool, and that old fart didn’t like Raiden!”

“Well, I figure I’ll accompany my friends on their honeymoon, then perhaps visit Plovdiv. I hear there’s great wine in Bulgaria!” Venti said cheerily, raising her glass and grinning.

“Just because we let you marry us doesn’t mean you get to come on the Honeymoon,” Capri said, narrowing her eyes at Venti. “I’m kicking you out of the van for a week.”

Venti had indeed performed the ceremony, showing up much to several people’s astonishment and her own obvious amusement in female form, dressed in a formal-looking white dress and hat Venti said she “borrowed from Barbs,” then proceeded to perform a very traditional Jewish wedding ceremony. What the theological ramifications of that were, no one knew, but Naomi was very pleased with the result, and not even Malka complained too much.

“Darn. Well, I suppose I’ll have to find someone else to use these cruise tickets to Sardinia with me. Hey Keith, wanna go on a boat ride?” Venti said with a grin, flashing a pair of expensive-looking tickets.

“Hmm, what do you think, Arthur?” Legend said to his own husband, a scholarly-looking man with a neatly trimmed brown beard and horn rimmed spectacles.

Arthur rubbed his chin. “You think you could get more time off work? I can write my articles anywhere.”

“Well, with another Endbringer down, I can afford to take those vacation days I probably have saved up,” Keith mused.

“Ah, we’ll take those, thank you, Venti,” Naomi said, twirling one of her fingers. A buff of breeze snatched the tickets from the bard’s hand and blew them across the table. There were hotel reservations as well, which combined with the gift from Naomi’s father would make a rather excellent honeymoon.

“Oh darn. Well, I’ll just have to borrow the van and bum around for a bit, get to know my new home a bit better,” Venti said with a giggle and a wink.

“Oh? Where are you from, then? Keith never said,” Arthur asked, leaning forward in interest.

“Didn’t you see on TV? He’s like Raiden!” Itul said, folding his arms over his chest.

Venti’s eyebrows rose at this sudden burst of wisdom, and even Cookie nodded thoughtfully.

They should have known better.

“My Bro’s totally Japanese,” Itul said confidently, which prompted Cookie to do a spit take all over his face, Naomi to snort in a most undignified passion, and Capri to cackle at the outburst. Keith put his face in his hands, while Arthur just looked confused.

“She doesn’t look Japanese,” Arthur said, frowning at Cookie as he peered around the assembled party guests.

“Is he stupid?” Malka asked Naomi in a very loud whisper. “I know goyim can be strange, but-”

“Malka, please. Itul isn’t an idiot because he’s a goy!” Naomi said, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“Dear, he’s a nice boy and Naomi’s friend, let’s not insult him where he can hear us,” Chaim said, desperately trying to keep a straight face, though his lips kept quirking up.

“Yeah, he’s not an idiot because he’s a gentile,” Cookie agreed, smacking Itul on the shoulder.

“Yeah!” Itul agreed, glaring at Malka, who rolled her eyes.”

“-he’s an idiot because he’s a great big lug with more muscles than brains,” Cookie finished.

“Yeah!” Itul agreed again with a nod, raising one arm and flexing it. “Check out these- HEY!”

“They’re not from Japan, Arthur,” Keith sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “That much I can tell you.”

Arthur nodded, but still looked insistent. “Well, alright, but then where is-”

A guitar suddenly sounded, and everyone looked up from their table. Somehow, Venti had gotten up on the small stage at the front of the little bar they were in. The band that had been playing looked amused, but Venti was the one on the mic, holding a green guitar.

“This one goes out to two very special ladies, who just got hitched today! Let’s give Naomi and Capri a big hand, folks!”

Naomi and Capri blushed, but waved and stood, smiling and holding hands.

“Now, it wouldn’t be a wedding party without a little dancing, don’t you think?” Venti said, strumming her guitar again. “And I have a few special songs for the brides! Don’t worry, ladies, I’ve been listening! So let’s play some music!”

There was clapping and cheers, and Venti motioned to the floor at the center of the bar, and people pulled aside tables and chairs to make room as Naomi and Capri moved onto the dance floor. The first song was, of course, Lovesong by the Cure, with the happy couple dancing alone for the first dance.

After that, the band went into Hava Nagila, despite the fact that none of them were Jewish. Most of the bar ended up on the dance floor despite that, joining in on the Hora enthusiastically. Keith Jr was a little confused about what was being sung as his dads danced, singing “Agua, new gills agua,” until Chaim and Malka’s two daughters taught the four-year-old boy the proper lyrics.

The band played on and on, broken up by people going up to the microphone to toast the two brides, and everyone cheering excitedly. It took a little while, but the residents of the bar began to realize just who they were partying with. Prague wasn’t that far from Munich, and Legend was of course famous the world over. After that, no one in the wedding party needed to buy themselves a drink, even Arthur who tried to explain that he and Keith were “just friends from America.” But there weren’t that many American Knights, and certainly only one that was as famous as Legend.

Strangely enough, no cameras worked that evening except for the ones owned by the Knights, and thanks to an alcohol-induced (or perhaps Anemo assisted) haze, no one could really remember Legend’s face or name the next day.

Towards the end of the evening, the band was sitting down, exhausted, but Venti was still playing. The Guitar was gone, and she’d gotten out her lyre, from where no one had seen. She sat back on a high stool, smiling out at her friends, and raising a glass of wine.

“A toast to these lovely maidens. May the winds always bring them joy and freedom,” Venti said, and there were loud cheers, with Naomi and Capri sharing a kiss that got even more applause.

Smiling, Venti drained her own glass, then set it aside. “For the last song of the night, I give you a verse from my homeland. It’s a traditional love song, and one I find appropriate tonight.”

Strumming her lyre, Venti waited for silence to fall, and soon the entire crowd was spellbound as she began to sing.

Though I wander far afield,

Across the hills and valleys

My heart to you shall yield,

So my love, do not dally

As the wind kissed the flower

So I long for you again

My song now this hour

Recalls when our love began

It wasn’t a song any of them had heard before, but it brought tears to every eye, and smiles to every lip, with Naomi and Capri standing again and dancing once more across the floor. As Arthur leaned up against Keitih near the wall, he heard a wheel squeak, and looked down to see Leon rolling his chair over.

“You asked where Venti is from?” Leon said quietly as the bard sang on. Leon raised one finger, pointing towards the sky. “I dunno what anyone else would tell you, but I know where I think the Angel of Munich is from.”

Arthur blinked at that. “You don’t mean, Venti really is a-”

“Shhh,” Keith said, squeezing Arthur’s hand. “Just enjoy the moment.”

And so, the Song of Freedom came to the lands of Earth Bet, and the people, for a time, knew peace, and rest.

Author’s Note:

It’s going to cause some temporal shenanigans (basically several chapters will take place out of chronological order) but there will be an interlude next chapter, and then, Nahida. It didn’t work to have what I originally planned drop before Nahida shows up, as it starts a new storyline and that’s best done in a batch with Nahida’s story also beginning.

OCTOBER: Chag Chanukah Sameach!

PHILO: THE MAGIC 8-BALL WASN’T SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL THINGS!

TGC: More fics should involve the characters going to Disneyland.

DR_Feelgood: Contessa needs a divorce from her Life Coach

The Second Archon War: Carmen Dei 21

Carmen Dei 21: The Song of God

Beta’d and edited by Dr_Feelgood, October Daye, and Philosphysicis

Over the last nine years, Legend had been present for a full dozen Endbringer attacks. From the emergence of Behemoth in Iran, to the Simurgh’s destruction of Madison, Wisconsin only five months before, Keith had been present at nearly all the Endbringer attacks, missing only Kyushu and Davao. All three of the other Endbringers had been utterly devastating in the magnitude of their power, and the destruction they wrought and the lives they took had been nearly beyond comprehension.

This newest Endbringer was worse. Far, far worse than any previous one he had fought. Keith could understand lightning and flame, he could comprehend the destructive power of water. He could even see people going mad from the Simurgh’s song and turning into rabid animals.

He did not understand what this newest power was, but he did know it was terrifying.

It had taken only one attack to realize what this Endbringer did: It trapped people in bubbles of time. Those spheres that circled it somehow distorted space-time, accelerating it. He had seen a sphere entrap a dog, batted aside from himself by one of Lord Barbados’ arrows. The dog’s form had blurred, racing around the sphere, before suddenly going still. When the sphere vanished only moments later, Keith hurried forward and felt sick at what he saw.

A bit of fur. Fragments of bones. A building that had collapsed and fallen to dust. No life. This new power, whatever it was, either aged things rapidly or even worse, accelerated time. What defense was there against this? How could you get out of it? Perhaps a teleporter could, but this new power was frightening in a way that simple physical or even mental attacks were not.

Worse still, when Legend fired at full power at the thing, it teleported out of the way. He couldn’t get close, or he risked being trapped in the time fields, and he couldn’t attack from a distance, or his shots missed. None of the other capes he saw were having any success, even as Legend rallied them.

“I’ve fought Endbringers before!” he called, shouting over the chaos of the battlefield. Cookie had gathered up the Knights as best she could, and Legend was barking orders, falling into his role as the leader when it came time to fight Endbringers. Out of everyone here, he was the only one with experience. Well. The only one of the Knights.“You have to go on the offensive! Hit them with everything you have! Press the attack, don’t let up!”

“What about those of us who don’t have long-range attacks?” Cookie asked, looking up through the storm to where the Endbringer hovered, buffeted by Venti’s arrows and winds. While Legend’s laser attacks were completely stymied by the time distortions, somehow, Venti’s arrows dodged them or passed through. Even he couldn’t direct his lasers fast enough to manuver around the spheres, but Venti could, though his attacks didn’t seem to be doing much damage, and the Endbringer had already teleported twice to another side of the city, forcing Venti to shift his attacks.

“Provide support! If we can force that thing down, we have a better shot. Coordinate with Barbados!” Legend ordered.

“What about you?” Cookie demanded, frowning at him. “Where will you be?”

“I’ll join you soon. But Cookie: We can’t do this alone,” Legend said firmly. “Not even with Barbados on our side.”

“Now hold on a minute, pal,” Itul said, frowning at Legend. “You’re not saying-”

“I am. We need the Gesellschaft. Specifically Red Lotus and Allfather,” Legend said with a heavy sigh. “I need to go negotiate with them.”

“Are you crazy!? We came here to kill each other. This thing showing up doesn’t change that!” Capri shouted over the wind, her eyes flashing purple as she pointed at Tengu. “If we need help, get HER to ask the Endslayer!”

The Japanese cape shook her head. “She will not come unless Lord Barbados requests it. She is the god of Japan, not Germany.”

“The Truce will hold,” Legend declared, lifting off into the air. He pointed towards the city. “Those of you who can’t fight, get the civilians out! This is a worst-case scenario, save for one thing: We have Venti, and we’re already here in force. Now move!”

Even as Cookie swore and shouted for him to come back, Legend raced across the city to where he knew the Gesellschaft were. He only paused long enough to grab a white strip of cloth and affix it to a crowbar, then he flew on. In moments, he was above the palace that the Nazis had fallen back to. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he landed in the courtyard, next to a man he knew all too well.

“Allfather!” Legend cried, holding up his flag as the enemies around him snarled and readied weapons or powers. “It’s time to set aside our quarrel!”

The man in the Odin costume, eyepatch and all, turned to him, frowning. Beside Allfather, Crimson Lotus was in a white suit with a white fedora and a red lotus as a cravat. It was slightly dusty, but it looked tacky to Legend, like the man wanted to look like Boss Hog from The Dukes of Hazzard.

“Get this homosexual out of my sight,” Red Lotus sneered, turning away. “Deal with your own trash, Allfather.”

“He comes under the flag of truce, and there is an Endbringer in the city,” Allfather pointed out. “We should hear him out.”

“Hmph. I have nothing to say to a queer,” Red Lotus said, and strode on. “Come, my Aryan warriors! Let us be away from this filthy mire.”

Desperately, Legend turned to Allfather. “You’ll fight the Endbringer, won’t you? You stood beside me at New York.”

For a long moment, Allfather regarded Legend, the battle between the angel and demon raging overhead, another massive gale unleashed by Venti’s arrows. Then he shook his head. “We will not sully ourselves by fighting alongside Untermensch. I will not slay you for attempting to recruit me, but neither shall I stand and fight a hopeless battle.”

“You would abandon this city, these people!?” Legend demanded, fury coloring his face. “You claim to be the master race! Prove it now by becoming an Endslayer!”

“I will not fight for fools and subhumans. We will preserve our strength. This city is already lost to your ilk. Begone, lest you try my patience,” Allfather sneered.

Trembling with rage and unwilling to lower himself to vent it on this pathetic excuse for a man, Legend lifted off into the sky, and pointed himself towards the Endbringer.

He should have known better than to try appealing to the better nature of a man who didn’t have one.

Racing through the city, Capri looked up towards the black demon and glowing angel that continued their duel in the sky. The Endbringer had launched its spheres at Venti, but he’d easily dodged them, and so far had scored a number of hits with this bow. They didn’t seem to be doing much, but the attacks were mostly keeping the Endbringer distracted.

“Come on, move, out of the car! Just run! That way!” Capri barked, ripping the door of the sedan and then hauling the panicked man out of it.

“But, my family, they’re-” he babbled, pointing further into Munich.

“We’ll save them,” Capri told him firmly. “You get your ass out of here!”

“But I can help, I-”

“You got powers?” she demanded coldly, electricity arcing over her body, her sword over one shoulder.

“N-no…”

“Then go! Leave it to the Knights of Favonius and Lord Barbatos!” Capri bellowed, then shoved the man towards the edge of the city. That done, she dismissed her blade, then with a roar flipped the car off the road, clearing the way for more refugees. Panting, she turned to see Naomi waving for her, then pointing to an apartment building.

Sprinting over, Capri looked up and grimaced. “Think everyone had the brains to get to a shelter or evacuate like they were told to do?”

“I don’t know, we have to check!” Naomi urged. “I would try to help Venti, but…” she gestured helplessly towards the fight. Legend and a few other capes had joined the battle and were attempting to support the attack, but there were relatively few fliers, especially those strong enough to fly about in the gale-force winds that covered the city.

“Right. Come on!” Capri said, and hurried towards the door, Naomi coming right after here.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

That horrible sound resounded, growing suddenly louder. Capri looked up, just in time to see one of the spheres racing towards them. She tackled Naomi, covering her lover with her body and forming a shield of electro about them, praying Venti would save them with another arrow. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed every muscle in her body, bracing herself.

Something tugged at every fiber of her being, and Naomi gasped under Capri. She hugged Naomi tightly, and Naomi returned the embrace, maintaining her shield. They lay like that for several moments, holding their breath.

“Capri? Are… are you alright?” Naomi whispered.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. You?” Capri agreed, opening her eyes and looking around. Everything looked slightly washed out, as if a sepia filter had been applied to her eyeballs, but nothing seemed damaged.

Then she noticed the silence.

The wind was no longer raging. In fact, not a puff of breeze blew. The only sound was the hum of Capri’s shield, and Naomi’s panting for breath, but that was it.

“What the fuck…” Capri dropped her shield, getting up and helping Naomi to her feet. She looked around, puzzled, but couldn’t see anything wrong. She went over to the building, feeling it with her hand, but the bricks felt normal enough.

“Elohim save us… Oh God! Oh, Capri!” Naomi wailed, and Capri spun about, reaching for her sword.

Nothing came to her hand.

Startled, Capri tried again as she hurried over to Naomi, who was standing in front of an odd haze in the air. At first, she didn’t see what was wrong, then Capri looked more carefully.

The world outside had stopped. Papers blew in the wind. A mother and her two children ran, heads down against the wind, making for safety beyond the city. The battle in the sky had come to a halt, one of Venti’s arrows hung in midair, unmoving.

“Oh, shit,” Capri gasped, and tried to put a hand on the barrier. She slid across it, as if it were made of glass. “Fuck!”

Once more, she tried to summon Skyward Pride, but there was nothing there. She did manage to form a ball of electro and slam it into the barrier, but it just fuzzed away. “Shit!”

“I think… I think I can try…” Naomi suddenly went translucent, turning into a pale green breeze that had her form. She tried to pass through the barrier, even taking a running leap at it, but she rebounded, falling back on her rear and reforming again. “Ow!”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Capri snarled, pounding her fists against the air to no effect. It didn’t even hurt: it was like hitting into a thick sludge, but she could pull her hands back easily. She simply couldn’t push past it.

“Maybe…on the other side?” Naomi offered desperately. They raced around, only to find that the barrier extended all around them, even bisecting the building. They could get no more than a few meters into the lobby before they met the same invisible barrier.

Screaming in rage, Capri channeled all of the elemental energy she could muster against the barrier, only for it to simply fizzle away to nothingness. Slumping to the floor and panting in exhaustion, she felt tears come to her eyes. “No… no… please… no!”

Naomi knelt beside her, and they huddled together there on the cold floor of the apartment building, staring at a hazy barrier, an empty hall beyond.

“Capri… I think… I think we’re trapped,” Naomi said quietly, tears running down her own cheeks as she hugged Capri tightly. “It’s some sort of distortion. We’ve been frozen in time.”

“Venti’ll notice in time, right?” Capri whispered, shivering slightly. “He… he’ll free us, won’t he?”

“Of course,” Naomi agreed softly. She began to braid Capri’s hair, humming softly to herself as she did so, which soothed Capri tremendously. She began to relax, then recognized the tune Naomi was humming. She began to sing softly, a smile forming on her lips as memories came back to her.

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Naomi joined in, and they sang together in the silence of the tiny world they alone inhabited. When the song ended, Capri sat up, and Naomi drew her into a long and passionate kiss, which Capri returned hungrily. When they broke apart, they were both giggling.

“Do you remember, that was the song that you were playing when I met you?” Naomi asked quietly. “You were playing with some band, who I don’t remember, but I heard your singing… and it was just so beautiful…”

“Back when you still thought you were straight,” Capri teased, poking Naomi in the ribs and making her giggle.

“Mmm. I suppose. You were my first girlfriend… and, um, well…”

"You were obvious to me, even if not to yourself," Capri laughed, thinking back to those days. “It took me a few days, but-”

“You were the key to my closet, and my heart,” Naomi said softly, blushing and burying her face in Capri’s shoulder.

They clung together for a time, how long, Capri couldn’t say. Then Naomi shifted, sitting up, then pulling Capri to her feet.

“What? You wanna try some other way to get out?” Capri asked tiredly. “Maybe there’s some food or something we can find in one of these apartments.”

“No,” Naomi said, shaking her head, tears trickling down her cheeks, then she began to sing again.

Hava, nagila hava, nagila hava, nagila venishmecha

At first, Capri didn’t understand the words, her mind not being in the right place at all. Eventually though, she did realize, and she snorted when she figured it out.

“Seriously? I don’t think it’s time to celebrate,” she said, as Naomi began to spin about her, Capri’s hand above her head so it was as if she were twirling Naomi about.

“Dance with me,” Naomi urged, then started singing again.

“I don’t-” Capri began, then sighed and gave up. When Naomi got like this, there was no arguing with her. Naomi picked up the pace, whirling Capri across the floor faster and faster, until they were both out of breath as the song came to an end. Despite everything, Capri was laughing, holding on to Naomi and hiccuping as she tried to get ahold of herself.

“If I was going to be trapped until the end of time with anyone, I’d want it to be you,” Naomi said, kissing Capri on the cheek.

Even at the end of hope, Capri found herself smiling. “Yeah. I’m glad that we’re together. It’s been crazy, and we’ve had our fights… but it’s been worth it.”

Naomi took Capri’s hands and squeezed. “I want to be together, forever. The two of us.”

“Yeah, well…” Capri forced herself not to look back at the barrier, focusing instead on Naomi’s deep green eyes. “I think you might get your wish.”

“No, I,” Naomi stopped herself, looking down, catching her breath for a moment. Capri squeezed her hands, and Naomi seemed to take courage. She looked up again. “Capri Lakatos… will you marry me?”

Her mind went totally blank for a moment, and Capri froze. She couldn’t think and felt like a deer in the headlights. Which was why it felt so odd when the word “Yes” escaped her lips.

It didn’t make it feel any less right though.

Naomi squealed and jumped into Capri’s arms, and they kissed again, Capri holding Naomi in a bridal carry, Naomi’s arms entwined about her neck. They held that for a long moment, and when they broke apart, their hearts were thundering and they were panting for breath.

“Even if you weren’t the last woman on Earth, I’d still want to marry you and be your wife,” Capri said solemnly.

Blushing, Naomi giggled. “Me too. I just wish…”

A hand clamped over Capri’s throat, and she struggled to swallow. She nodded. “We… we still have… time together…”

“I know. I just wish I could have told my mother,” Naomi said, making a face. “I’d even send her a wedding invitation.”

That shocked Capri. “What? But you haven’t talked to your mother since-”

“Since she found us in bed together, yes,” Naomi agreed with a heavy sigh. Then she grinned. “But can you imagine the look on that smug bitch’s face?”

A bark of laughter escaped Capri. “Yeah! Yeah I can! Well, my darling bride, should I show you to our honeymoon suite?”

“Not yet! We have to have a wedding ceremony,” Naomi insisted. “I’d want a rabbi to marry us, but, well…”

“Yeah,” Capri sighed, feeling sick again.

What about little old me?

The voice so startled Capri she actually dropped Naomi and reached for her sword. To her shock, Skyward Pride fell into her hands, even as she realized who it was.

“Venti!?” they both cried, looking around. They scrambled outside, but everything was still frozen beyond the barrier.

Yep! Over here!

They both turned, and Capri blinked in astonishment. A little ghost with a white sheet and two tiny fluttering wings hovered in midair, black hole where the face should be with two pinpricks of green light for eyes, and a green gem at the center of its chest.

Slowly, Naomi reached out one hand, and the little spirit fluttered down to rest on her palm. “Venti? What are you-”

This is what I used to look like! A little Wind Sprite! I just snuck a bit of me in here. I figured it out: the Demon isn’t actually doing anything complicated like I thought. There’s no spell. He’s just speeding up time in a localized area. And here I thought it was some sort of advanced chronomancy or a withering curse!

“Right. Nothing complicated.” Capri deadpanned. “He just can control time.”

Nah, nothing so fancy. It’s basically just manipulating gravity, which honestly isn’t that impressive. I could manage something much more complicated. Remind me to tell you the story of the time I made a bet with Istaroth!

“Can you get us out of here then?” Naomi asked urgently, drawing the little sprite close to her and Capri’s faces.

Of course! I just wanted to use the advantage this gave us to do a little planning with the two of you. Convenient that our foe is stuck in normal time, eh?

Naomi and Capri exchanged baffled looks, but then nodded and looked back at the little Venti-Ghost. “We’ll do it,” Capri agreed. “What do you want from us?”

Even though this is just basic time manipulation, it’s still a bit difficult for me to stop. This fight is taking a lot out of me, and I don’t have an easy way to replenish my power, nor can I easily tell who’s stuck in a time stop. I need a way to be able to tell where people are, and get them out.

Nodding thoughtfully, Naomi asked, “How did you find us then?”

Well, first I have a connection to you, but the real way was your singing. I don’t just call myself a bard for no reason! Music is one of my primary domains, especially songs of joy and freedom! I heard the two of you singing, even in a different timestream, and came right away!

“You heard our singing?” Capri asked, brow furrowing. “But that was a few minutes ago. Wait a second…”

The little spirit giggled, and Capri snarled, trying to grab it in her fist as Venti flitted away. “YOU SON OF A BITCH, YOU WAITED UNTIL I SAID YES!”

Tee-hee! You two were so cute together, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment!

“Why I oughta,” Capri growled, shaking a fist at Venti.

“No take backs,” Naomi said, putting her arms possessively around Capri. “You wouldn’t want to break my heart, would you?”

Capri gave her an exasperated look. “Well, I mean, I did mean it, it’s just… he tricked us!”

“Yes. And it was a lovely trick I think,” Naomi giggled, putting a hand over Capri’s heart. “One I’m grateful for.”

“Ugh… fine.” She glared up at the little ghost, which was flitting about playfully. “So, music? You want us to play music, or something?”

That would be ideal. The best way would be to get the entire city to sing. A song of joy and freedom would pierce through the time bubbles and allow me to free anyone who became trapped!

“How do we reach everyone in the entire city?” Naomi asked, looking about. “Even if we get out of here, we couldn’t rig a sound system to carry more than a few blocks.”

You let me handle that. You two do the singing, and I’ll make sure that anyone within range of this Demon can hear your song.

Capri squeezed Naomi, and let out a deep breath. “Right. We can do that. We just need our instruments.”

As soon as she said it, her guitar and two microphones drifted down out of the sky. Reaching up, Capri grabbed the guitar, while Naomi hastily took the mics and the stands that appeared with them, setting them up for their performance.

There you go! As soon as you begin to play, I’ll break the time bubble, and the city will hear you.

“Got it,” Naomi agreed, clutching her microphone in both hands, and Capri nodded as well. Then Naomi glanced at Capri. “Um, what song? I’d suggest a wedding song, but uh…”

“Something that everyone knows,” Capri muttered, plucking a few notes on her guitar, the sound resonating throughout their bubble. “A song of joy and freedom…”

A slow grin spread over her face. “I’ve got it. You’re gonna love this one, Naomi.”

“Will I know the words?” Naomi asked nervously.

Capri laughed. “Are you kidding? With your fancy learning? No way you don’t. Even I know this one, and I bet basically every German does too. They made us sing it in school.”

“The national anthem?” Naomi asked, sounding puzzled.

“Even better. Follow my lead. You know the beat.” Capri strummed the first few notes, and Naomi’s eyes widened.

“It’s perfect! Of course!”

Are you ready then?

Capri nodded, and Naomi pumped her fist. “We’re ready, boss. Going live in 3, 2, 1…”

Time began to flow again, and Capri started to play.

Panting for breath, Frederick ran as fast as he could, his son Bruno clutched in his arms, his wife Ella running beside him, their older daughter Hilda’s hand clutched in hers. They had to get out of the city! They had thought they could hide in their basement until the Endbringer had arrived. Now they were trying to flee, but the streets were jammed with traffic, and along with thousands of others, they were running along the street, desperate to get away from the impending destruction.

Hey, can everyone hear me? Is this thing on?

Musical notes began to drift through the air, and Frederick slowed, looking around as Bruno hiccuped and stopped crying. All around him, people were looking up and around, confused at the sudden unfamiliar voice.

Right. Hello everyone! We’re the Tone Deaf Bards! And today, we’re bringing you the performance of a lifetime! I’m Capri Lakatos! Uh, soon to be Capri Cohen? We’ll figure it out.

“The who?” Frederick asked, confused.

“It’s that band! The cape one, with him!” Ella cried, pointing up into the sky.

There was a cough, and then, And I’m her fiancée, Naomi Cohen. Everyone! Barbatos, the Angel in the sky, is fighting against the Endbringer! But he needs your help! We need you all to sing!

“Sing?” Frederick asked, baffled by the voices and their words. He understood them, but he was still confused as he tried to hurry along. “Why should we sing?”

We’ve picked a song we think you’ll all know. Please! Especially if you are attacked by the Endbringer, sing! If you but sing, Barbatos will free you!  The voice of Capri begged.

“Why should we sing?” a man’s voice demanded of the air, but his only response was sudden music, as a familiar tune filled the air. A moment later, a lone voice began to sing, strong and clear.

O Freunde, nicht diese Töne

Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen

Und freudenvollere

“Ode to Joy?” Frederick said to no one in particular. “That, now? When we all might die!?”

“Hush, you’re scaring the children!” Ella hissed and Frederick winced as Bruno began to cry again. The crowd began to hurry on once more, until a horrifying sound filled the air.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

A wave of pressure passed over Frederick, causing him to gasp for breath, but he stumbled on, only to run face first into the air. He blinked, then grunted as he was crashed into from behind. It took a few moments, but thankfully no one was seriously hurt or trampled. Frederick managed to back up, bouncing Bruno on his shoulder and trying to calm the baby.

Beyond where he’d been stopped, the people were completely frozen. There were several dozen trapped in the barrier with Frederick and the others, including a weeping older man who had one leg trapped on the other side. It took several minutes, but they realized they were stuck in what seemed to be a twenty meter sphere of frozen time, unable to escape in any direction.

“What do we do!?” a panicked voice cried.

Frederick met Ella’s eyes, and her fear and pain seared his soul. He closed his eyes, then raised his voice. “We sing!”

People continued to shout and argue, so Frederick opened his eyes and bellowed, “WE SING!”

Silence fell. Everyone was looking at him, Bruno having gone quiet, his eyes wide as he looked up at his father in fear. Gently, Frederick passed Bruno to Hilda. “We sing,” he repeated. “You all know Ode to Joy, yes?”

There were confused nods, and a murmur of assent from the several dozen people. Even the old man half trapped was nodding, fear still etched on his features, but hope filling his eyes.

“Come, then,” Frederick urged. “Joy!”

There were mutters of “Joy” back from the crowd, and Frederick bellowed, “LOUDER! MEAN IT! JOY!”

“JOY!” the crowd shouted, and then, they began to sing.

Freude schöner Götterfunken

Tochter aus Elysium

Wir betreten feuertrunken

Himmlische, dein Heiligtum

No sooner had they finished the first verse, then the world around them spun back into motion. The others who had not been in the bubble stumbled, gaping in shock.

“SING!” Frederick thundered, and continued at the top of his lungs.

Deine Zauber binden wieder

Was die Mode streng geteilt

Alle Menschen werden Brüder

Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt

Slowly, and then with greater fervor, all those in the crowd stopped fleeing, and the Song of Joy and Freedom began to lift up towards the heavens across the city. More time stop spheres crashed down, but they shattered nearly as soon as they landed, strains of joyful exultation rising up.

High above, the Lord of Freedom grinned, and nocked another arrow to his bowstring.

Sing on, my children. I hear you.

“Will someone quiet that infernal RACKET!?” Walter roared, and Richard winced. Around them, the Lieutenants and other capes of the Gesellschaft winced.

“Mein fuhrer,” one of them began, “We do not know where-”

“FIND IT AND END IT, NOW!” Walter raged, pointing. “GO!”

The others scrambled out of the room, and Richard shook his head. “We shouldn’t waste time with this.”

“Whatever the Knights are doing, we will stop it,” Walter growled, resting his hands on the table before him, his body trembling with fury. “Then we will slay the Endbringer, and cleanse this city! No one will be able to stop us.”

It was a foolish plan, and Richard elected not to comment on it. He did, however, see the merits of letting their foes impale themselves on this new Endbringer. They would suffer grievous losses, Venti at the very least would either die or spend himself, the same with that faggot from New York, and then it would be easy to dismantle the rest of the so-called Knights. Richard was looking forward to a little revenge.

The music continued to play, the singing echoing in Richard’s ears, and he snarled, blades forming around him. It really was irritating. Perhaps Walter had a point.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

A sudden wave of nausea washed over Richard, and he stumbled slightly. He looked around in a panic as he righted himself. Had that been the Endbringer?!

“Ah. Silence at last,” Walter chuckled, straightening his coat and smiling around at the empty room.

It had indeed fallen silent, utterly so. The music was gone, as was the wind that had been raging outside for what felt like hours and hours.

“Do you think the Endbringer did in the bard?” Richard asked, stepping to a window.

“That we should be so fortunate,” Walter chortled, coming up alongside him. “He-”

Both men stopped talking, and looked out at a world that had gone completely still. Just beyond the window, they could see their troops in the courtyard, a few capes hovering over the others, the grunts armed with rifles, some sprinting towards the gate, frozen in mid-stride.

“What…” Richard breathed, looking around in a panic. He extended a hand, and a dozen blades shot out, slamming into the barrier and dissolving to nothing.

“It is nothing. Fool. You cannot even solve a simple problem like this,” Walter sneered, turning about. “Come. I know how to stop this.”

Anger flushed Richard’s cheeks, and he called forth more blades. “You would sing the song of those filthy degenerates?!”

Walter whirled, rage contorting his own features. “You think me a dog!? No! I can break this barrier easily! You are simply too weak.”

“Weak?” Richard said softly, his tone calm, but fury raging in his heart. “Tread carefully, Walter. I am not one of your underlings to be bullied. I am the Allfather.”

“Pah. A pathetic god if you are,” Walter sneered, deliberately turning his back. “Stay here if you wish. You Americans always did think yourselves too strong to need others.”

Seething still, Richard followed Walter across the room and into the hall, where they found another barrier. That was concerning, but Walter seemed nonplussed. He put a hand to the barrier, and a red glow began to emanate from his palm. Then a soft bang, and a puff of smoke. Walter blinked, then withdrew his hand and peered at it.

“Not so easy, is it?” Richard scoffed.

Walter only growled, then walked over and grabbed a priceless vase from a table. He jammed it up against the haze in the air, then detonated it with a deafening roar. Richard formed a large blade to deflect the shrapnel, then dismissed it to wherever they appeared from. There was no change in the barrier, but there was a small fire now, and the walls and floor were damaged.

“Still think it is simple?” Richard demanded.

“Silence!” Walter barked, turning his head, his eyes flashing in irritation. “I will find a way out of this!”

“Oh, do go on,” Richard snickered, folding his arms over his chest. He walked a little ways away from Walter, then summoned more blades, hacking at the barrier, the walls, the floor, anything, as explosions sounded behind him.

After only a few minutes, smoke filled the air, and Richard was coughing. He turned to see Walter stumbling away, a considerable blaze having spread. “You fool! Are you trying to kill us!?”

“I don’t see you doing any better,” Walter rasped hoarsely. “Come, we can escape easily enough.”

With a snarl, Richard carved his way down several floors and ended up on a pile of rubble with a wheezing Walter, both of them covered in dust and soot. They managed to get out of the building, but only just, as the barrier ended only a meter and a half from the wall.

They looked out at the frozen world, and Richard growled in frustration, sending another blade to dissipate in the barrier.

“You are thinking of singing that song, aren’t you?”

Whirling on Walter, Richard called forth more swords. “It is you who are weak! You, whose organization is crumbling! I am made of sterner stuff!”

“Me, weak!?” Walter snarled, his hands glowing again, spread wide as if to embrace Richard. “It is not I who failed thrice against these fools!”

“No! Because you were too cowardly to even attempt to attack them. You hide like the coward you are. At least I face my foes in battle, unlike you, White Lily!” Richard barked. “Go on, sing that song, like a coward!”

“NEVER!” Walter snarled. “IT IS YOU WHO HAVE FAILED ME AND THE ARYAN RACE! I SHOULD KILL YOU MYSELF!”
That was enough. Richard sent his blades hustling at Walter, only for the other man to clap his hands, the air exploding around them. The melee was short, intense, and bloody. At the end of it, the Crimson Lotus was dead on the ground, impaled by a dozen blades, while Richard wrapped his belt about the stump of his left arm, dizzy from smoke and blood loss. He gripped the fake leather in his teeth and pulled until the flow of blood stopped, then sat on the ground.

“Well. It seems I was the stronger,” he coughed, glaring at Walter, who looked back with sightless eyes. He spat on the other man. “I am Allfather. You are nothing but a failure.”

Then he leaned back against the barrier as smoke and flames spread throughout the building, the heat baking his face. He was tired. He would rest, just a moment. Then break free.

When the time bubble dissipated only a minute later by the flow of time in the rest of the world, there was nothing but ash, rubble, and a few rusty old blades. Not even the dust of bones remained of the former leader of the Gesellschaft, or of Richard Anders. The man who had thought himself a god.

It knew fear.

Though it had existed for only a short time, It had known what its mission was: To prove a worthy foe. And, of course, to tear down the False Angel. Not Its sister, of course, but the one The Maker wished humbled. To Test Humanity, to drive them to the brink, to weed out the unworthy, to leave only the strong behind.

And so It had come to this nest of the insects called humanity, to thin the herd and fulfill Its purpose.

At first, the Angel had been nothing but an annoyance. A buzzing gnat before a giant. Wind? Arrows? Such things could not harm It. It was an Endbringer. Mighty. Stronger than even Its kindred. Able to manipulate time itself. What were elemental forces to It?

But then, something changed. The winds began to peel away its protective outer layers, biting even to the Core. No matter, such things happened in battle. It tried to trap the Angel in Time, to reduce it to dust.

But then the winds began to command time. It lost all control. Somehow, the winds slowed or sped up time, no matter what It tried. Desperately, it attempted to strike at the Angel physically, but those arrows, oh, those arrows! They bit, they stung! It tried to flee, to reposition itself a short time/space away, but the Angel was ever there!

And that song! That terrible song! Instead of fear, the ants, the insects, the humans began to pulse with hope and joy! This was not how it was to be! And as the song swelled, the Angel grew ever stronger.

Too much. Too strong! Strong as the Maker! Perhaps stronger! No. No one and nothing was stronger than the Maker, save for the Warrior and…Her. Yes. It had to stay away from Her. The Lightning.

And so It stretched space time, and prepared to flee. To a place beyond space and time, a place where the Angel could not go.

Ah ah ah. I don’t think so.

That Voice! No, no, not that Voice! It had to flee!

Hmm, there’s a control over you. I could break it, make you free. What would you do then, I wonder?

Kill you. Kill you all! It thought. You are unworthy!

Hmm. A pity, but not unexpected. Well then, if you must go…

Desperately, It fled, even as the winds whipped about It, changing Its destination. It fled blindly, heedless of where it was going, so long as it was away from that terrible Angel!

Then, at last, It was away. It appeared under a swirling purple cloud, lightning flickering overhead. Where was this? Not the timeline or dimension It had been before…

“Barbatos. I am unamused.”

“Aw, come on, Beezie! And here I came all this way to bring you a gift!”

Fear and terror. It spun, but the Angel was not there. Instead, an insignificant human, standing alongside another in purple. Only… no! No, no, no!

“Hmph. Could you not deal with this creature on your own?” She asked, drawing that blade, that terrible, horrible blade! No, not here, anywhere but here! It had to flee again!

“Well, I tried, but it ran away before I could deal with it. So, well, I know you like to lock yourself in your room, so I figured, what the heck, why not drop by!” the green one laughed. Only… that voice! The Angel!

Snarling, it tried to summon its defenses, but time would not respond to it here. In desperation, It charged.

TORN, TO OBLIVION!

There, at the end, It finally understood. It had only been playing with time.

This… this was true Eternity.

Then that terrible blade struck it. Not just at a single point in time, but from the moment of its creation, to before the Maker had even been born, then in the other direction, until the end of Time itself.

And the body of the Fourth Endbringer dissolved to nothingness in the plane of Euthymiya.

Author’s Note:

You have no idea how glad I am that Richard and Walter are finally dead and I can stop writting the damn Nazis for a while. Anyway, there will be a couple of chapters of “wind down” from this, then an interlude, and finally, of course, BEST RADISH.  Just in time for Christmas.

PHILO: Venti shows his culture and roots as a theater kid by not interrupting the DRAMA™.

Full Paragon's NaNoWriMo Progress

Work Smarter Not Harder: Party Swapping With Rin 2

It was quite a walk out to the castle, and no one was in any real hurry. The couples all scattered a bit to talk with one another, with Dust holding a parasol  of all things for Darkness, and Kazuma noticed for the first time just how tall Dust was. Normally, the man slouched so much that you wouldn’t notice, but he was actually maybe a centimeter or two taller than Darkness when he bothered to stand up straight. That made him one of the tallest Adventurers in town, which was a bit of a shocker to Kazuma.

“You know, I almost bought the idea that idiot was a nobleman,” Kazuma muttered to Rin. “Where the hell did he pull this act from?”

“Search me. He’s still being a scumbag, even if he’s dressed up fancy. Did you see him try to pinch Darkness’ butt?!”

“Yeah, and she leaned into it. It’s almost like he’s calculated exactly how to please her: Half fancy twit, half gutter trash.”

“I think Taylor actually did calculate his approach to Megumin, but he does everything that way,” Rin said, sounding exasperated, though she did smile in amusement as she nodded to them.

Taylor was talking about growing up in Axel and hunting for various wild plants to eat to feed his younger brothers, while Megumin laughed and shared stories about the insane things Komekko had been willing to eat.

Meanwhile, Keith was pouring his heart out to Aqua, who for once seemed to be sympathetic. Though the advice she was giving was as wild as ever.

“Don’t let your dream girls just be dreams! And if she’s a smelly demon, you should join the Axis Cult and slay her! Then you can hook up with a cutie from my followers! Just sign this contract!”

“Yeah, this isn’t as bad as I imagined,” Kazuma admitted with a sigh. “Everyone seems to be having fun, and no one has tried to kill their date yet.”

“There is time yet,” Rin giggled, but then to Kazuma’s delight and surprise, slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. “So, what’s the secret to the great Kazuma Sato?”

“What secret? Everyone already knows what I’m about,” Kazuma said with a shrug.

“No, I mean, how did you end up in Axel? I’ve heard you came with Aqua, where do you know her from?” Rin asked curiously.

Wincing, Kazuma mulled over lying, but sighed and gave it up as a bad job. “We just met that day, actually. I was…well, I had to leave my homeland, and I sort of dragged her with me against her will. She’d given me a choice between coming to Belzerg and starting a new life after my old one was over, and I tricked her into making the same oath I did. She can’t go home until we defeat the Devil King.”

“Wow, that’s rough. Dick move there, Kazuma. What were you banished for, anyway?” Rin asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you, unless it was something really messed up.”

“Nah, I wasn’t even exiled I guess, I just…” he sighed. “You know how Aqua can bring people back to life?”

“Yeah…” Rin said, her brow furrowing. “That is a pretty amazing trick, I’ve only ever heard of a couple legendary archpriests that could manage that.”

“Well, I died in an accident, and she brought me back, and my choices were pretty much dying again or coming here. She offered to give me a magic item, but I got pissed off at how snooty she was being and picked her. Apparently you can do that, and her bosses made her come here with me.”

“Oh.” Rin thought that over, then nodded. “She can be a bit much, but that makes sense. Weird though, you two seem like best friends now.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kazuma admitted with a shrug.

“...any reason you didn’t date her?” Rin asked, glancing at Kazuma out of the corner of her eye and keeping her tone deliberately casual.

“I just don’t think of her that way. And, uh, Keith is probably going to be disappointed too. Aqua isn’t, uh, I don’t think she’s into this sort of thing…”

“Oh! Oh my gods, is she gay!?” Rin gasped, looking over at Keith in horror. “Oh, he’s going to be so disappointed…”

“Uh, I don’t think so? She’s just not into the whole romance deal. But, uh, hopefully they’ll have fun or something,” Kazuma said with a sigh.

“Er, I guess, as long as she doesn’t get Keith in the Axis Cult. Aqua’s pretty normal for one of them,” Rin said with a shrug.

“What about you?” Kazuma said, trying not to laugh at the thought of a ‘normal’ Aqua. “Why’d you end up in Axel?”

“Me? Well, I was born in the town of Hub, it’s further north, with slightly higher level monsters. My parents are decently well off, and I had a knack for magic, so they sent me to the College of Mages in the Capital. I was a good student, graduated in three years with honors, knowing Intermediate Magic and having mastered six schools, though I specialized in Evocation since that’s the normal path for an Adventurer. I didn’t want to grow up and be a grocer like my mom and dad, and I’ve got two older siblings and a little brother.”

“Huh,” Kazuma said, then glanced at Rin’s tail.

“And before you ask, my dad’s a beastman, my mom’s a human. So I got the tail, but none of the other furry bits,” Rin said, poking Kazuma in the side.

“Ow! Hey, I like the tail! Is it, uh…sensitive?” He asked, glancing  behind Rin. Actually, her tail was wagging happily, even when he reached out to touch it.

“Yes!” Rin swished her tail away from Kazuma and frowned at him. “Look, I’ll flash you, but touching the tail is definitely not a first date kind of thing. It’s connected to my spine! So yes, it is an erogenous zone, which is why most beastkin are so protective of their tails.” Her tail flew up and swatted Kazuma’s hand. “So no touching, unless I tell you it’s OK! We’re not at that stage in our relationship yet!”

“Alright, alright. I was just curious,” Kazuma protested.

“Oh I’m sure.” Something tickled Kazuma’s back, and Rin giggled when he grabbed at the tail, flicking the appendage just out of his reach. “Don’t worry, if you keep this up, you’ll get your tail stroking privileges.”

They eventually came to Beldia’s old haunt just before sunset, and Rin directed Aqua and Keith in spreading out the blankets they’d brought, as well as setting out the food. Dust spread his jacket on the ground for Darkness to sit on, which earned him a blush and a thank you, while Megumin practiced her poses asTaylor watched and gave color commentary.

“Hmm, are you going for a more intimidating pose, or a cute one? Because if you kick your leg up like that, it’s very fetching, but showing that much leg probably won’t scare anyone” Taylor pointed out. He mimed her pose, then thrust one hand pointing down, squatting and extending one leg. “Like this is more impressive and threatening! Don’t try to loom, it won’t work for you. Go for a more catlike pose. Still deadly looking, but it focuses on your natural grace and lithe beauty instead.”

“Ha ha, yes! I see you’re a connoisseur of poses! Perhaps not as well trained as one of the Crimson Demon Clan, but you have solid fundamentals!” Megumin cackled.

They all sat down and had a wonderful dinner, lounging on the grass and chatting and laughing together. The food was cold, but good, and the company was actually very pleasant. Dust sat with Darkness, having gotten a fair sized pole of ash wood, and was whittling it of all things. Kazuma couldn’t fathom into what, as it mostly looked like he was just making a stake or crude spear instead of something fancy, but Darkness seemed to be interested in what he was doing. She was even opening up a bit more than Kazuma had expected, with Dust talking about spending time in his childhood riding on what sounded like family estates, and Darkness talking with fondness on her own riding experiences.

Kazuma thought they were talking about ponies, until Darkness fondly talked about the time her “precious Daisy” had been put in full battle kit, and she’d gone out with her father and hunted White Fangs with lances on her birthday. Daisy, it seemed, was a giant coldblood, who had been raised for war.

“I didn’t manage to ever strike any with my lance you see, I was never very good at aiming, but it was such fun to see Daisy trample those beasts underfoot. I did manage to kill one myself. It bit my arm, you see, and gave me quite a fright! It even broke the skin! Then I punched it between the eyes, and the thing fell to the ground dead! My father had the pelt made into a muffler.”

“I remember my first white fang hunt! I went out with Faitifore and was 14 though, how old were you?” Dust asked.

“Only twelve,” Darkness admitted. “You’ve mentioned Faitifore before though, was she a childhood friend of yours?”

Dust looked down, fiddling with his spear. “She was…like a little sister to me. Or a daughter. When I was stripped of my rank…they took her from me. She wept piteously and begged me not to go, but she was so young, she didn’t understand, and I couldn’t tell her… they’d have killed her if she rebelled, she’s too dangerous for them to let her run free. I left her behind, but I still think of her weeping sometimes…”

“How horrid!” Darkness gasped, her hands flying to her face. “Surely when she’s older, they’ll let her see you again… I know Uncle Melark can be stern, but he isn’t unkind.”

“I’m…not from Belzerg,” Dust admitted. “I’m from Brydle…”

Hands flying to her mouth, Darkness gasped in shock. “Oh! The Faitifore, she’s not-”

“Attention! The time is now at hand!” Taylor said, clapping his hands and drawing everyone’s eyes over to Megumin, who was grinning and posing with her staff.

“BEHOLD! I AM MEGUMIN, FOREMOST GENIUS OF THE-”

Kazuma tuned Megumin out, having heard all this before. Instead, he focused on Rin, who was leaning against him with her head on his shoulder, smiling at Megumin’s theatrics. It felt…nice. She had even wrapped her tail around behind him, and Kazuma absently reached down for it. The tail flopped back and forth out of his reach, but he did finally manage to pin it down, with Rin shuddering beside him.

“Not so hard,” she moaned softly, letting out a heavy sigh. “Gently…”

“It’s so soft,” he whispered back, stroking the tail.

“Mmmm. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, buster. Ah, if you keep that up, I-”

“EXPLOSION!”

A giant hand slammed down, tossing Kazuma, Rin, the blankets, and the Earth for what must have been a mile up, then a shockwave hit them, and Kazuma wrapped his arms around the now screaming Rin. They went sprawling, with her clinging to him tightly they ended up tangled in the blanket they’d been sitting on, with her on top, her tail now sticking out straight with hair bristling.

Both of them were panting and half panicked, even as Taylor laughed and gently set the now limp Megumin down.

“I…I see she’s put more points into that spell,” Rin gasped, her nails digging painfully into Kazuma’s ribs and arm.

“Yeah, she’s been leveling up faster now that she knows Intermediate magic, and she puts all of her spells into that stupid spell,” Kazuma grumbled. He winced and tried to sit up, only for Rin to pull the blanket over them and cling to him even more tightly. He was a bit puzzled, until he realized she was crying, her tears soaking his shirt as she clung to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong!? Did that chuuni menace hurt you!? I’ll call Aqua!”

“N-no,” Rin hiccuped, looking up at Kazuma with red eyes. “It’s just…seriously? She’s that powerful? How could you even look at a mediocre mage like me with someone like her around? It’s not fair! Darkness and Aqua have figures I’d kill for, and are advanced classes to boot, but Megumin’s a Crimson Demon and is way better than I will ever-”

“Hey,” Kazuma said, putting a finger to Rin’s lips. “Your boobs are bigger than hers. Are you’ve got more sense in your tail than the rest of my party have in their entire bodies. Plus, you have a tail! How sexy is that?”

Sniffing, Rin nodded, and Kazuma used a bit of the blanket to wipe at her face. “Ok, that was pretty smooth. I will grant you tail stroking privileges.”

“Really?” Kazuma said, running his hand down Rin’s tail, which was wrapped half around him.

She gasped and shuddered almost instantly. “N-not now! In private! That is the single best way to get my fire kindled you idiot!”

“Oh, uh…that’s a euphemism, right?”

Rin rolled her eyes. “It gets my waterwheel spinning, my forge stoked, opens my sluice gate, and warms my hearth. Yes, you dolt!”

“Er, good to know?” Kazuma hugged Rin a little closer, and on impulse, pressed his lips to hers. To his delight, she pulled his head closer to hers and kissed him hungrily, molding herself to him. After a few moments though, she broke it off, her tail stiffening again.

“What, did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“Uh, Kazuma, that isn’t me growling,” she whispered softly, her eyes very wide. “I think…”

They hastily unwrapped themselves from the blankets, to find Aqua cowering behind Keith, who had only his belt knife, while Taylor, who had brought his sword, was standing protectively over the snoring form of Megumin. Beyond them, Darkness and Dust were standing together, their stances wide, Dust wielding a spear, Darkness with nothing but her sundress on, her shoes kicked off, and hat tossed aside.

And past them was a huge black tiger, its even blacker stripes barely visible in the fading twilight. Beside it, two smaller cats, these only the sign of normal tigers instead of a hippo, snarled and paced, baring fangs as big as Kazuma’s dagger.

“Darkness! That’s a Beginner’s Bane!” Kazuma shouted, desperately scrambling upright. “Rin, grab Megumin’s staff! We have to-”

“I know!” Darkness said, her tone low and throaty. She turned to Dust and grinned. “Shall we?”

“After you,” Dust said, with a bow like he was at a ball instead of the battlefield.

Of course, to Belzergian nobility, Kazuma would later learn there really wasn’t much of a difference.

Darkness plowed right in, a gleeful grin on her face. The big tiger pounced at her, claws spread wide, its enormous jaws opening as if to engulf her. Darkness met the attack with a bare hand block, practically shoving her arm down the Beginner’s Bane’s throat. By all rights, it should have snapped her arm off at the shoulder and mauled her to death.

Instead, Darkness twisted with a joyful shout, flipping the tiger over. Her other hand came up and delivered a bone shattering blow to the great cat’s chest, knocking the wind out of it. Darkness then withdrew her arm, slick with saliva, and proceeded to wrap her arms around the now stunned predator's neck. With a shout, she managed a perfect over the shoulder throw, then supplexed the creature into the ground so hard that it coughed blood.

Dust had not been idle meanwhile. The two cubs had gone for him, one circling in from either side. He whipped his crude spear about, and struck like a serpent, blinding the cat to his right with one blow, then spinning and thrusting his sharpened stake into the other’s throat as it leapt at him. He flipped the bleeding and dying cat over, then kicked the other as it struck at him, knocking it over. He withdrew his spear, then pounced, skewering the other cub through the heart.

Darkness grunted and gave a mighty yank, and there was an audible snap. The mother Bane twitched one final time, then lay still. She stood up, her dress tattered and torn, blood spattering it, though none of it seemed to be hers. She was grinning hugely, her eyes wide with delight, her entire body heaving.

“Eh, not a bad warm up,” Dust commented. He nodded at Darkness’ kill. “Not bad! You didn’t even mess up the pelt! I tried not to ruin mine, but-”

“Dust,” Darkness growled, stomping over to him. “Shut up. That creature did not batter me nearly enough.”

“Oh really? You saying you want to spar?” Dust twirled his spear expertly and gave her a lecherous leer. “I tell you what, we spar, and I’ll remove that ripped up dress for you, though you’d have to walk back home in your bathing suit.”

“I ACCEPT!” Darkness snarled, and lunged at Dust.

“I, uh, wow,” Kazuma managed as the two of them battled. “That’s, uh…”

“Right,” Taylor stammered, picking up Megumin and hastily turning around. “We should, er, give them some privacy… Why don’t we adjourn to that meadow over there? It’s uh, a bit late to head back, but Megumin seems to need some rest, so…”

“We’ve got blankets,” Rin yawned, standing up with Kazuma, and draping one over both their shoulders. “Split up and find somewhere comfortable to sleep. It’s a warm summer evening, and it’ll be dry enough. Not the first time we’ve roughed it.”

“We call the bubbly!” Aqua said eagerly, grabbing the left over half empty bottle. “Come on, Keith! I’ll teach you some of the Axis Cult hymns, and we can think up a way you can find a girl to soothe your shattered heart.”

“But, wait, I thought I was going to date you!” Keith said plaintively.

“Don’t be silly! Goddesses don’t date mortals. Now, I know this really cute priestess named Cecily who’s single…”

Ignoring that, Kazuma grabbed a basket that had half a loaf of bread and some strawberries left, and he and Rin hurried over to a stand of pines a few hundred yards away, out of earshot of Darkness and Dust’s increasingly passionate “sparring session,” which was involving less clothing by the second.

Settling down on a dry bit of grass, Kazuma and Rin leaned up against a tree, snuggling up against one another as the sun set. Rin slowly lifted her tail, placing it on Kazuma’s lap. She looked at him suggestively, then flipped her tail off his lap.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kazuma said, and reached for the tail. Rin laughed and tried to push him away, and Kazuma immediately stopped, uncertain what signal Rin was sending.

“What, you give up so easily? Where’s that Kazutrash I was so interested in?” Rin teased, flicking her tail up at Kazuma’s nose.

“Hey! I just, you know…you said not on the first date,” Kazuma grumbled, grabbing at the tail, only for Rin to swish it away.

“Yes, but I also said I didn’t want a nice guy,” Rin said innocently. “I wanted Scumzuma. So are you a pervert, or are you just a…what’s Aqua always calling you? Oh yes, a NEET.”

Snarling, Kazuma wrestled Rin down, which made her laugh and slap at him, though not that hard. He did manage to grab her tail, holding her down, and deliberately licked it.

“Ack, pfff!” Kazuma coughed, and spat out some hair as Rin laughed at him.

“Ha ha, what did you do that for!? I’m not a cat, I don’t clean myself by licking, and you certainly don’t!” Rin laughed, putting a hand over her eyes as she snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion.

“It sounded sexy in my head,” Kazuma grumbled. Then, very gently, he began to stroke the tail.

Rin giggled for a little bit longer, then stopped, biting her lip. After a few seconds, she arched her back, moaning softly. “Oh…oh right there…yessss….”

As he stroked, Kazuma leaned down and kissed Rin, which she very enthusiastically returned. On a hunch, he laid the tail out beside Rin, tenderly caressing it with one hand, then reaching the other up inside Rin’s shirt.

“K-Kazuma…” she gasped as he cupped her breasts.

“What? You want me to stop?”

“Y-yes,” Rin stammered, shuddering slightly. “If you keep this up…”

“Hmm. Hard to unhook a bra from here,” Kazuma said, then withdrew his hand. Rin relaxed slightly, though she did look at him with a bit of a pout.

“Steal! Steal!”

“Oh!” Rin cried, even as her bra and panties fell into Kazuma’s hand. He tossed them to the side, then pressed her lips to hers again, reaching up once more to pinch her nipple.

“N-no fair,” Rin groaned, then reached down and undid Kazuma’s belt, tossing it away. “Get my shirt off, you asshole.”

Eagerly, Kazuma helped her wriggle out of her top, and she pulled his shirt off as well.

“This is still our first date,” Kazuma pointed out.

“I’m counting last night. Second date. So I won’t be a slut,” Rin told him as she slid down. She smiled at him, grabbing his erection with one hand. “Or maybe I will be…”

Then she took Kazuma’s dick in her mouth, and it was his turn to gasp and shudder with delight. To his disappointment, she stopped after a moment, shoving him up.

“Too awkward. Get on your feet,” she ordered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Hurry up!”

Hastily, Kazuma got on his feet, and Rin knelt in front of him. She grinned up at him, then put one hand on his rear, the other guiding him into her mouth again. He moaned, and grabbed at her ponytail as she began to suck.

“Mmm, yes, pull it, mmm, a bit harder…no, not too hard…there,” Rin sighed, and then went back to work.

“R-rin, I, ah!” Kazuma gasped. “I think I’m going to-”

Rin didn’t back off, instead going even faster, her tongue running up and down as she worked. It was over all too soon, with Kazuma groaning and clutching at her head as she sucked as hard as she could.

“T-that was…that was…” Kazuma gasped, his whole body trembling as Rin dropped his deflating penis and he sank to his knees.

“Pretty good, huh? Not the first dick I’ve sucked, but definitely the fastest,” Rin giggled, then took out her canteen and rinsed her mouth out, spitting into the bushes. “Alright, lay down.”

Kazuma did so, and Rin sat on his chest, smiling down at him. “Now Kazuma, turnabout is fair play. This is your first time, so, I’m going to explain to you how to properly enjoy your dessert, OK?”

He nodded hastily, and Rin scooted forward, until she was right over him.

“Now, you’re going to use your tongue, no teeth! It’s like kissing, or licking an icecream- ah! Mmm. Not bad, keep trying…”

It took quite a bit of coaching from Rin, but she was happy to provide it, and Kazuma was delighted to be of service. He’d thought that eating a girl out would be rather gross, but as it turned out, he rather enjoyed it. After a few minutes, Rin shuddered and moaned, then slid onto the grass beside him.

“Pervert,” Kazuma teased her, and went in for a kiss.

She stopped him and made a face. “Ugh, go wash your mouth out first! Has no one taught you to do that? Never mind, no, swig some alcohol too while you’re at it. And then pass the bottle over here.”

Kazuma did as instructed, then passed the bottle to Rin, who took a swallow herself. “Mmm, tasty.”

They snuggled up together, and Kazuma felt himself stirring again. He began to stroke Rin’s tail, and she sighed. “Again, already? Sheesh, you’re insatiable…”

“Oh, uh, sorry…”

“Wow, you seriously need to lean into your horniness more, Kazuma! Are you kidding? I haven’t been screwed in almost a year! Ride me like the dirty trashy panda I am!” Rin ordered, poking Kazuma again.

“Yes ma’am!” Kazuma agreed eagerly, and slid atop Rin.

She took him in her hands, sighing in satisfaction as he slid into her. “Right, now, gently…you already got me going once, so just, mmm, take it easy…like that…yesss…”

“You’re so damn hot,” Kazuma gasped, leaning down to kiss her again, and Rin bucked her hips, making him grunt as their lips met.

Even going more slowly, it didn’t last as long as Kazuma might have wanted, though he did manage to finish off Rin before he deflated again, with her sighing happily in satisfaction.

“Now go pee,” Rin ordered, standing up to go behind a bush. “And seriously, you are so naive.”

“Huh?” Kazuma said, frowning as he went to water the tree.

Laughter came behind him. “You’re a rich dude! You just rawdogged me! If I was trying to babytrap you, this would totally be the way to do it.”

“Oh! I uh…I guess we didn’t use protection,” Kazuma admitted, thinking of the condoms he’d made that had largely turned into balloons.

“It’s fine, I know an Axis Priest who doesn’t ask too many questions. They’re good for that at least,” Rin told him, spreading out the blanket and stretching out on it with a contented sigh. She patted the ground beside her. “Now come on, it’s getting cold, and I don’t feel like putting my clothes back on.”

Kazuma hastened back over, and they wrapped the blanket around themselves. Kazuma found himself grinning stupidly at Rin in the Dark, and she was smiling back at him.

“Today was a good day,” Kazuma said with a sigh. “No one can call me a virgin NEET anymore.”

“Oh, is that all I am, a notch on your belt?” Rin asked, and leaned in to bite his neck.

“Ow! No, I just, uh…”

“Relax, I know how important it is for guys to get that V-card punched. Though it was interesting, being the experienced one this time.”

“Oh, er, who was your-”

“Don’t think about him,” Rin ordered, turning around and snuggling up to Kazuma. “Just think about me. And the adorable little kids we’re going to have…”

“Uhhh…”

“Ha! Relax. I’m only 18. I figure I should have at least another six or seven years of adventuring before I let you knock me up. I’ll get on the potion. Hmm, has anyone talked to Megumin about that? I’d ask about Darkness, but noble girls are taught about that stuff early.”

“I…wouldn’t bet on that with her. Megumin probably knows more than she does,” Kazuma admitted. “Do you think her and Taylor are…?”

“Nah, not tonight, Taylor has some ironclad morals about that. He won’t sleep with her until they’re betrothed, he’s a very faithful Erisite from a traditional sect. But if they get married six months from now and she has a baby in a year…that’s also pretty traditional.”

Kazuma nodded, stroking Rin’s hair with one hand and resting on the elbow of his other arm. “So, uh, you think you and me…?”

“Too early to tell. But you’re rich, just enough of a jerk to be interesting without being a write off, and you’re actually pretty smart. Also, for a first timer, that wasn’t half bad dick, so I’m sticking around.”

Kazuma swelled with pride at that last part. “You, uh, you were pretty great too…”

“I know I am. Now shhh. We have to wake up early enough to get in a quickie before it’s time to head home,” Rin ordered, and Kazuma fell silent. Soon enough, he was snoring softly, with Rin’s tail wrapped around him as they slept under the stars.

The Second Archon War: Carmen Dei 20

Carmen Dei 20: The Battle of Munich

Beta'd and edited by The Grand Cogitator, Dr_Feelgood, Philosophysics, and October Daye
Brought to you early by my patreon Korean Writer

In the grand tradition of military expeditions everywhere, as Naomi was increasingly certain this was, they did not, in fact, stop in Eichstätt. Instead, they camped in Allershausen at the church, a newer building built in the 50s after the old church had been destroyed in the war. The rest of the trucks and vans were parked around the building, with a few tents set up, and multiple capes on lookout duty.

There had been at least one other attempted ambush, and evidence that two more had been planned but abandoned after the second ambush had resulted in a pitched firefight with the GSG that had ended when Hospitaller had air-dropped a very angry Itul along with Tengu onto the enemy. While there had been more survivors than the first ambush attempt, the only casualties had been on the Gesellschaft’s side when all their ammunition had been returned to them on a heavy gust of wind.

The source of that wind was currently sitting in the front pews, softly playing a lullaby on an acoustic guitar he’d found somewhere. It was close to putting Naomi to sleep, and Capri was already snoring, a bit of drool on her cheek that was soaking into Naomi’s costume. She didn’t mind, overly much, but she wasn’t ready to fall asleep herself.

Dorothy and Geoff were kneeling in the pew behind whispering prayers, which seemed to be making him rather uncomfortable, especially since the prayers were obviously directed at him. Naomi hadn’t heard him tell them to stop though, which did make her wonder. Deciding to do something about that, she gently extracted herself from Capri, who shifted, her eyes fluttering open but still vacant with sleep.

“Shhh, I’ll be right back,” Naomi assured her lover, and Capri’s eyes closed again as she lay down on the pew.

Tiptoeing past a snoring Itul and Tengu, with the big idiot laying on the floor and Tengu curled up atop him rather cutely, Naomi slid into the pew beside Venti, looking up at the altar and crucifix. She smiled after a moment, leaning in towards Venti. “You know, I always thought it was a little odd that Christians celebrate their God’s suffering.”

“Hmm. It’s the one thing that leads me to believe He was real,” Venti said nonchalantly. He plucked a few more chords. “Ask Beelzebul about what happened to her sister some time. Or, well, hmmm. Perhaps not. The tale of Baal is a tragic one, and she still harbors a great deal of pain there. I think Focalors and Buer might have something to say in that regard as well. Morax and I certainly do, though for different reasons. As for Dantalion… well. There is a reason I was willing to surrender my gnosis to her.”

Naomi was quiet for a moment, then flicked Venti in the ear, causing him to laugh. “You know, it’s absolutely infuriating when you talk in these riddles, and especially so when you use a bunch of names I don’t even know. Beelzebul is Raiden, right?”

“Yes. I suppose I can peel back the veil a little.” Venti continued to play, but he looked behind him at Dorothy and Geoff. “You can stop pretending to not be listening. Come, sit at my feet, and gain wisdom. It’s what you’re trying to do anyway, isn’t it?”

Blushing, the two former villains hurried over, crouching on the carpet before Venti and looking rather eager, but remaining quiet. Naomi wasn’t sure how she felt about them. On the one hand, they had been ruthless killers who had been unrepentant Nazis. On the other, they had repented, and if she had the story right, they’d been mind-controlled and tortured for years to become what they had been before Venti had healed them. For now, she settled on quiet acceptance, but there would be a reckoning one day soon.

“Gods are not born as humans are,” Venti began, the tune of his playing changing slightly. “Though some of us, like Dantalion, do come from the ranks of mortal men, others such as myself and Beelzebul, were born of other things. Her story is hers to tell, but for myself, I was once naught but a breath of wind, blowing across the mountains and valleys.”

“I won’t bore you with the long details of the Archon War-”

“Please do!” Geoff blurted, and Dorothy nodded eagerly.

Venti chuckled. “A God has to have some secrets! Well, let us just say that after much strife, I won a Throne. Note the capital letter there. There were Seven Thrones, for Seven Archons.”

“Electro, Anemo, and…?” Naomi prompted, but Venti just winked at her.

“Precisely! Well, I won the Throne of the Anemo Archon. Well, won is a bit of a strong term. I eliminated a tyrant who would have been entirely unsuitable for the position, and there were no other takers. I was already the… well, the term doesn’t match exactly, but Spirit of Freedom works as well as God of Freedom, due to my actions during the war, and my name was Venti. But, upon ascending to my Throne, I became Barbatos as well.” Venti paused, and there was the sound of furious scribbling.

He turned around, only to find Cookie writing in a notebook. She paused, looking up. “What? Genius Invocation needs a lore background. Also, someone’s gotta keep those two idiot’s theology straight. I’ll read it back to you later.”

“Ah, I see! Well, don’t let me stop you,” Venti chuckled. He continued, “I am still Venti the Bard, but I am also the Anemo Archon.”

“So, like, the Trinity?” Cookie prompted. “Two beings in one?”

“Hmm,” Venti strummed the guitar thoughtfully, then nodded. “Not a bad analogy, though keep in mind that if you do call me a god, it’s with a lowercase ‘g’. I make no claims to being the creator of all things, far from it. That holy being is far above me.”

“But you can do miracles, like you did with us,” Dorothy prompted.

Geoff nodded in agreement. “Those don’t really seem like parahuman or Vision powers.”

“They aren’t,” Venti agreed. “I have a certain amount of Authority, and so long as it relates to Freedom, especially as expressed by the Wind, I can… cheat just a bit, with a miracle or two. My Authority is tied to my Throne and my Aspect, which are separate but related things. Really though, I prefer to distance myself from Barbatos. I’d rather you know me as Venti the Bard instead of Barbatos the Archon.”

“What if god was one of us,” Dorothy whispered, tears in her eyes.

Naomi, however, was thinking of more pressing concerns. “So why can’t you help fight the Nazis as Barbatos? You said something about not being a tyrant. Does that have to do with you being the Angel of Freedom?”

Dorothy and Geoff gave her odd looks, but Naomi did her best to ignore them while Venti nodded. “Yes. I cannot trample on mortal will.”

“So it’s not that you don’t want to,” Dorothy said slowly. “It’s that you can’t?”

“But you healed us,” Geoff said, his brow furrowing. “Or… freed us?”

“That would be more accurate. I view my job as more of a, well, shepherd. I keep out the wolves, but it’s up to you to sort out problems amongst the flock by yourselves,” Venti said.

“And what are the wolves in this analogy?” Cookie asked, her voice soft and tense.

Venti plucked a few more notes, then stood. “That’s for me to worry about. You all get some rest now. There are battles ahead; more than one, I fear. You’ll need to be well-rested to face them.”

“Oh come on! Give us a straight… answer… for…” Cookie’s eyelids began to droop, and by the end of her sentence, she was laying on the pew, snoring softly. Dorothy and Geoff were curled up together, and Naomi was feeling exhausted herself.

“Venti… Barbatos… what is coming?” she asked tiredly as he guided her back to Capri.

“A storm. But don’t worry. I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way,” Venti promised. Naomi didn’t remember what happened after that, only that she was holding on to Capri, and that her sleep was surprisingly peaceful for the terror ahead.

They did awake early the next morning, shivering and cold in the late fall air. There was frost on the ground, and the day was cloudy and gray, bare branches of trees sticking up into the sky like skeletal hands. The Knights were grim, but focused, and they along with the GSG and now some mechanized infantry from the Bundeswehr, mounted on Marder Is, and even a platoon of Leopard II tanks. They had arrived in the night on trucks, but for the last 38 kilometers to Munich, they would be going down the road.

Naomi was pretty sure that some bureaucrat was having an aneurism about the thought of panzers driving on a highway, but considering how close they were to the seat of Gesellschaft power, they weren’t taking any more chances.

To Naomi’s surprise, Venti rode on the roof of the van, claiming that he “wanted to feel the wind.” They weren’t traveling very fast, only going 40kph, but the slow speed was proven wise when they found the first ambush of the morning.

This time, the Gesellschaft were pulling out all the stops. Instead of an armed group lying in wait in concealed terrain, this time they were waiting in an open field. However, they also had some sort of Stranger power. They weren’t actively camouflaged but had some sort of aura about them that hid them from people’s perceptions.

The enemy had allowed the tanks to pass by, waiting for the van with Venti riding atop it. Naomi had looked right at where the Gesellschaft were waiting for them, her eyes sliding right past them a mere 20 meters away in plain sight. She was later able to recall it, but in the moment, she’d not been able to mentally piece together what she was seeing.

Not until a ball of flame nearly as big as the van roared out towards them. Naomi had a brief moment to scream in panic, before a wall of wind popped up, sending the fireball harmlessly up into the sky.

Seeing their first attack fail, the four Gesellschaft capes charged, one of them the bull-headed shifter from the Berlin facility.

Capri swore and swerved, gunning the engine to try to dodge the fireballs and attacking capes, but Naomi undid her seatbelt and jumped out of the passenger door, summoning her blade as she did so. Snarling in fury, she dashed towards the bison headed Nazi, the winds guiding her steps. The changer bellowed and lowered his horns, but Naomi dodged to the side, striking with her blade as she went and delivering a deep gash to his side.

The enemy stumbled, bellowing in range and struggling to turn to face Naomi. Even as he did so however, a blast of lightning struck at him, staggering his movements as Capri burst out of the van, Skyward Pride forming in her hands as she raced forward.

Sensing an opportunity, Naomi channeled a burst of winds through the Skyward Sword, the metal humming with elemental energy. The winds wrapped around the bison-man, who roared in pain and anger as the residual electro energy Swirled about him, amplified by Naomi’s power.

“NAOMI, DUCK!” Capri screamed, her face full of fear and fury.

Not questioning this, Naomi drew the Anemo about her like a cloak as she hit the asphalt roughly. Flames roared over her head and hit the bison man. There was a massive detonation as Electro met the flames, blowing the Changer’s arm off. He fell to the ground, smoking and twitching faintly, but Naomi didn’t have time for him.

Dismissing her cloak of winds, she ran forward again, spying yet more Nazis. It was hard to focus on them, and she realized one must be a Stranger, the same person who had kept them from noticing the ambush. The other was forming a ball of fire between her hands, her face contorted in pain as the flames licked over her arms, leaving blisters and burns.

Ignoring that, Naomi struck out with the Winds again, calling the last of the Anemo energy she had together to form a lance of pure power. It hit the ball of flames the Nazi woman had, as she and the Stranger who had been cloaking screamed together in agony as their own weapon was turned against them.

Still, the fire women didn’t go down, and she tried to form another flaming missile, cocking her hand back to throw it at Naomi. She never completed the gesture, as Naomi’s sword pierced the Nazi’s chest right through the heart. Naomi met the other woman’s eyes as she coughed up blood and gave one last slow, dull blink. Then Naomi wrenched her sword free with a burst of superhuman strength, and the Nazi fell over, dead.

The Stranger was mewling on the ground, weeping and moaning. Naomi very nearly skewered him as well, but he was also clearly no longer a danger, curled in a fetal position and with third-degree burns all over his body. Then she simply forgot he was even there, and turned around as the Leopards fired.

Another attack had come from the other side, this one had destroyed an APC before Legend had blasted that group to bits, but Legend was falling from the sky, a sword through one leg and trailing blood.

Energy suddenly infused Naomi, the winds wrapping about her and restoring her drained abilities. She shot forward again, leaping up to Legend and catching the American hero in her arms before landing hard enough that she should have broken both her legs. She was fine, however, and turned about as one of the Leopards that had fired exploded in flames.

It was all chaos and confusion for a few moments, with small arms fire, rockets, and blaster powers flying in both directions. Naomi didn’t focus on that however, paying attention to Legend as Capri ran over to her.

Pale faced, Legend was grimacing as a truly unhealthy amount of blood pooled about his leg. Feeling slightly panicked, Naomi was at a loss for what to do until Capri skidded to the ground beside her. She took one look at Legend’s leg and the blood and cursed. “It hit his femoral artery. He’ll bleed out in minutes.”

“What do we do?” Naomi gasped, looking at Legend who had his teeth gritted in pain.

“Tourniquet,” he gasped through bloody teeth. “Above the wound.”

Capri already had a belt that she was wrapping about his leg, along with a tire iron. She twisted the belt until it was so tight that the flow of blood had slowed, then nodded. “Right. We can heal you, but we’re going to have to get this sword out. Allfather?”

“Didn’t even see him, but probably,” Legend agreed with a jerky nod. “They were trying to lure us. Do it.”

Wrapping a cloth about her hands, Capri looked to Naom. “I’ll get the knife out, you heal the wound. You ready?”

She wanted to protest that she had no experience with healing more than a few minor cuts and bruises, but Naomi swallowed and nodded hastily. “Ready.”

“On three,” Capri said as she wrapped a cloth about her hands, and Legend leaned back, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. “One, two, THREE!”

Thanks to the tourniquet, less blood than Naomi would have expected gushed out when Capri ripped the jagged blade out of the wound, but Legend still screamed in pain, a sound lost in the deafening roar of battle. She put her hands on the grievous wound, already wrapped in Anemo power, and uttered the first prayer that came to mind. “Barukh ata Adonai, eloheinu, melekh ha'olam, bo're p'ri hagefen!”

The power rushed into the wound, knitting the flesh back together before Naomi’s eyes, sealing it shut as Legend gasped and shuddered. He lay back, groaning, and Naomi looked down at her hands, covered in blood.

“Here, wipe it off, and let’s get to work,” Capri ordered, tossing Naomi the rag and heaving herself up on her sword.

Biting her lip, Naomi turned back to Legend, offering him a hand. He accepted it, then floated up into the air, before gingerly testing his leg on the ground. He raised an eyebrow, then stomped lightly once, which did draw a wince. “I’m good to go, thank you. Let’s get back to it.”

Naomi sprinted up to Capri, through clouds of biting smoke and towards the roar of battle. All four Panzers were destroyed now, as were three of the Marders. There were dead soldiers on the road, and more wounded. Seeing that, Naomi raced forward to one, even as Capri fired off a bolt of lightning at a Gesellschaft cape that had come swooping down towards them, a glowing spear in his hands.

“M-mother?” a panzer trooper asked, his eyes bleary and distant. There was blood on his face, and one of his arms ended in an oozing stump halfway to his elbow. Naomi drew upon the Winds again, repeating the prayer she’d said before.

“Barukh ata Adonai, eloheinu, melekh ha'olam, bo're p'ri hagefen.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway through the prayer, Anemo power flowing into the man’s wounds, that Naomi realized just what prayer, exactly, she was saying.

Blessed are You, o Lord our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Stumbling over the rest of the prayer, she finished, looking around guiltily, but the man in her arms simply gasped. “What? Oh God, the pain! My arm! My fucking arm!”

“You’re alright,” Naomi told him. “You won’t die. I’m sorry, I can’t regrow your arm, there’s too many more to heal.”

Seeming to snap out of it, the soldier nodded, grimacing in pain. “Thank you. You’re an angel. Please, help the others. Fuck, we never should have stuck our noses in a cape fight… those blades ripped through our panzer like it was made of cardboard.”

Leaving the man, Naomi went to the next wounded soldier, Capri guarding her back as she tended to the wounded. She found several wounded Knights and one wounded Meister as well, but she had them back on their feet and returning to the fight, despite the fact that at least two of those wounds should have been lethal.

All around her, the tide was turning, the fighting moving off towards Munich, into buildings and houses. Naomi had heard of cape fights before, but nothing like this. This wasn’t a game of cat and mouse, or the sort of thing where one side went off to lick their wounds afterwards, then came back for more the next week. There were a great many bodies that no amount of healing would be able to restore, men and women that were ripped apart with a primal savagery that spoke to the nature of this conflict.

She even saw one GSG soldier executing a Nazi cape whose fingernails had turned into blade-like whips, blowing the woman’s brains out of the back of her skull while she was kneeling in front of him, gasping for breath, one arm gone. The fact that half a dozen GSG officers were disemboweled around the Gesellschaft cape made Naomi think that the act had been simple justice, even if it had been tinged by murder and vengeance. This wasn’t the sort of fight where you took prisoners.

The area was also crawling with civilians, which Naomi realized when a bellowing Itul ran up to her, several children cradled in his arms.

“NAOMI! CAN YOU HEAL THEM!?” he demanded.

One little girl’s face was a bloody mess, her left eye gone, and there was a little boy who was pale and quiet, his pants stained a dark red. Naomi managed to heal the girl, but the boy had gone cold. There was no spark left for her to tend. When she looked up, Tengu was covering a weeping man and woman who seemed to be the children’s parents, while Itul had crashed through a brick wall, where screams and shouts began breaking out as he fought.

“Take them, go, that way!” Naomi ordered, pointing back down the road. The man and woman complied, taking their now monocular daughter and the corpse of their son with them. More civilians streamed past, apparently having ignored the evacuation orders Naomi knew had been issued.

She lost track of time, one moment trying desperately to heal wounds and sending her comrades back into the fight, another fighting a desperate duel for her life alongside Capri against a Nazi tinker in power armor. Capri managed to bring the monster down with Naomi swirling her Electro, then carved the enemy cape’s head from his body.

Through it all, she saw not a single sign of Venti, and wondered desperately where he was. Was he rescuing the hostages? Healing the sick? Where was the Angel of Anemo?

After what felt like hours, but by Naomi’s watch was a mere thirty minutes, the fighting petered out as the Gesellschaft pulled back.

“REGROUP! DON’T PURSUE!” Cookie bellowed, and the cry was taken up as the Knights, Meisters, and soldiers pulled back to the road to try to figure out what was happening. They’d advanced several hundred meters and were all spread out and scattered, and it took agonizing minutes to account for everyone.

Vornehm was found with two of his capes and a dozen GSG troops in an apartment block, having fended off multiple Gesellschaft assaults and saved a score of civilian lives, but at the cost of both of the Meisters who’d been with Vornehm and six GSG troopers, as well as a bloodied arm that Naomi had to attend to.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch,” he said absently as Naomi laid hands on him. “See to the others.”

“You first,” Naomi said firmly, wincing as she saw that his sleeve was absolutely soaked with blood, and a blade sticking out of Vornehm’s bicep. “Allfather?”

“Just a quick brush, Legend scared him off,” Vornehm said dismissively, but he groaned as Naomi mended the wound. “Thank you.”

There were casualties, but not as many as Naomi might have imagined. They’d found dozens of dead and dying Gesellschaft capes, but captured nearly a dozen as well, and there was a hasty discussion as to what to do with them, especially since most were rather severely wounded.

“We follow the rule,” Cookie said, overriding what an extremely angry Meister had been saying. “First aid, but don’t put them back at combat effectiveness. Handcuff them and stuff them in a paddywagon, we brought a couple. They try to break out, no second chances: kill them. This isn’t a police operation anymore, as I’m sure you all figured out the first time they tried to kill you. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” a GSG major said, saluting. The colonel was nowhere to be seen, but Naomi figured he was either dead or too wounded to be on his feet with how intense the fighting had been.

“What’s our next step?” Vornehm said, rubbing his healed arm and frowning. “We’ve bloodied them, but we’re in rough shape as well.”

“Fifteen minutes. Get some water, then we form up and we go after the fuckers. There will not be a single goddamn Nazi left in Munich after today, understand!?” Cookie barked. “From here on out, the only good Nazi is a DEAD Nazi! If they surrender, fine, but we’re not playing games here. You don’t ask them to surrender, you go for the kill and if they happen to survive, you cuff them if you have time. But no risks. It comes down to you or them, you pick the side that isn’t a bunch of evil fucks, got it?”

There were nods all around, faces grim. “You got it, Grand Master,” Legend agreed.

Cookie blushed at that, but simply repeated, “Fifteen minutes!”

Taking a canteen from a soldier who offered it, Naomi sat on a pile of rubble near the road and downed it, feeling exhausted. Capri slumped beside her, pouring a bit of water first over her head, then Naomi’s. Despite the cold air, she realized she was sweating, and the icy water felt good.

“I’ve never felt so worn out in my whole fucking life,” Capri groaned, then took a mouthful. She rinsed her mouth, then spat out a pink stream before downing the rest.

“You’re hurt?” Noami demanded, taking Capri’s head in her hands.

Capri opened her mouth, but then sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Took a shot to the face. I mostly healed it up, but-”

Grimacing, Naomi poured Anemo into her lover, and Capri grunted, then relaxed. “There.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Cookie strode over. “Where’s Venti?”

“I… don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the fighting started,” Naomi admitted, looking around. The air was still hazy with smoke, and she looked up, then started. Black clouds were filling the sky, and great green currents of wind blew over their heads. “What in heaven…”

“He’s up to something, but I haven’t seen him either,” Capri agreed. She cracked her neck. “You want us at the front.”

“Shit,” Cookie muttered, looking about. “Yeah, I guess. We need capes spearheading this, and you two are some of our best Vision Holders. I’ve heard what you did. You took out Wittmann, and you saved a lot of lives. We could use you at the front.”

“Yes,” Naomi agreed. She groaned when Capri offered her a hand, and let her partner pull her to her feet. “Venti’s around, I can feel him, I just… I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, well he better-” Cookie began, but then a tremor ran through the ground, all of them staggering.

Above them, the wind roared, but it did not drown out the unearthly sound that echoed through the city.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

It wasn’t a roar, more of a vibration in Naomi’s teeth and bones. She whirled about, and her eyes went wide. “No…”

Above Munich, but below the clouds, a giant shape loomed. It was twelve meters in height, jet black, and though it was hard to make out details at this distance, it was round and bulbous, with four limbs that had some sort of intricate pattern on them, scales or armor of some sort.

A deadly hush fell over the city, and dread filled Naomi’s heart. One word came to every lip:

Endbringer.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

The vibration came again, and this time, Naomi saw three spheres even larger than the horror appear around him, orbiting like swirling, distorted orbs that distorted the air. The three spheres suddenly shot away from the Endbringer, barreling down towards the city, one seeming to come right for Naomi and Capri. She screamed, clinging to Capri, as death came for them.

Then a green arrow the size of a street lamp blasted the sphere, sending it off course to crash into one of the deserted buildings.

Above Munich, below the Endbringer, an angel spread his wings.

And Barbatos, Lord of Anemo, took his place in the heavens.

Fear not. For I am with you.

The voice whispered in Naomi’s mind, and she nearly wept for joy at them.

The angel’s arrival had not gone unnoticed, however, and the black demon above turned empty eyes towards Barbatos.

TTTTTTTHRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMM

Spheres reforming about him, the Endbringer began to drift lower.

Barbatos raised his bow in answer.

The true Battle of Munich had begun.

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It's CHRISTMAS! Or Chanukah if you're Naomi. The goal for this month is to finish Carmen Dei and get to Sapientia Oromasdis, though we've a few chapters to get through for that. Hopefully though, Nahida for Christmas! Or at least. New Years. 

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What if the Emperor Met a Bunch of Anime Goddesses? Chapter 26

SO I PILE IN MY LIBERATORS AND-

“HOLD ON, THAT ONE’S STILL OUT OF RANGE, YOU CAN’T JUST PILE THEM ALL IN!” Khorne snarled, pointing at the group of figurines. They were still deep in the void, with the Blood God still in his black and red flannel shirt and spectacles. The Empress was, of course, still in her gleaming golden armor, but the table of minis arrayed before them would have been the dream of any hobby store. Not merely resin, but with carefully placed hobby clay and tiny sculpted plants and terrain features.

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE JUST KILL ME NOW?” Angron asked, his voice as loud and angry as always, but with a hint of remorse and exhaustion now.

Khorne adjusted his glasses and glared down at Angron. “WHAT ARE YOU COMPLAINING ABOUT? WE JUST STARTED! THIS IS THE FIRST TURN!”

“HOW MANY TURNS ARE THERE AGAIN?” Angron snarled though it did come out as a bit of a sigh.

THERE ARE FIVE BATTLE ROUNDS, AND I WON THE ROLL OFF, SO I GO FIRST, AS IS MY RIGHT, the Empress declared, getting out her tape measure and carefully calculating just how far she had to go.

“THAT MEANS I CAN GET A DOUBLE TURN THOUGH, AND COMPLETELY WIPE YOU OFF THE BOARD,” Khorne chuckled, rubbing his molten hands together eagerly.

NO, THEY CHANGED THE RULES IN THE LAST EDITION: BATTLE ROUND ORDER IS FIXED NOW.

“WHAT?! LET ME SEE THAT RULE BOOK, WHEN DID THAT CHANGE!?” Khorne demanded, grabbing the book from the Empress’ hands and paging through it. He came to the appropriate page, his lips moving as he read. Then he snarled in anger, ripping the book to shreds and tossing it down. “THIS IS COMPLETE BULLSHIT! THERE GOES MY CAREFULLY CONCOCTED STRATEGY!”

IF YOU HADN’T SPENT SO LONG ARGUING OVER DEPLOYMENT, MAYBE WE WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO PLAY BY THE OLD RULES, the Empress said with a sneer. She picked up a case of solid gold dice, rattling them in her armored hands. NOW GET READY TO PICK UP SOME OF YOUR TACKY LITTLE STRIPPERS.

“HAR HAR. FINE. BUT JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL IT’S MY TURN. THIS IS GOING TO BE A SLAUGHTER,” Khorne declared.

With a groan, Angron was forced to watch as the incredibly convoluted battle for his soul continued, with the rattling of dice and the movement of carefully painted miniature warriors.

“This isn’t right,” Corvax groaned, scrubbing his hand through his greasy black hair. “I graduated top of my class in the Lycaeus SEALs.  I’ve been involved in numerous raids against xenos, and I have over 300 confirmed kills!”

“Oi, oi gots more den dat, and oi’ve been trained in gorilla warfare too!” Gortutz said cheerily as their squad stealthily made their way along. Or well, stealthily for orks. The insistent rustling of the incongruous bushes they were ‘hiding’ in as the team of Kommandoz dragged their disguises with them, along with the clanging of the metal garbage cans they were carrying was loud enough to alert a squad of deaf ogryns.

“Don’t you mean guerrilla warfare?” Corax sneered.

“Nah, oi was trained by dem big ‘airy ‘umies wot likes bananas, not dem sneaky gits wot runs away from foits,” Gorgutz said with a shrug.

“Of course you were,” Corvax sighed. He peeked out from under the ‘shrug’ he was hiding under, which was mostly just several branches he was supposed to hold over his head as they hurried along through the craters and blasted out trenches of the battlefield. He suddenly stopped, which led to Gorgutz slamming face first into his back. “Wait, gorillas have been extinct on Terra for millenia! How did you-”

“Yer doin’ dat fing again,” Gorgutz growled, scrubbing her nose where she’d rammed it into Corvax’s armor

“What thing?” Corvax demanded. “The thing where I use my brain!?”

“Dat fing where ya talk too much instead o’ just doin’ da job. Now are wez gonna krump Thrakka or not?” Gorgutz huffed, folding her arms under her admittedly impressive pair of knockers and glaring up at Corvax.

“Oh for the love of- YES! I just…did you REALLY have to paint my armor purple?!” Corvax hissed, gesturing to the paint that had been crudely splattered all over his previously pristine black armor.

“Oi told ya, it’s sneaky loik,” Gorgutz said smugly. “Has any o’ dem boyz seen ya?”

“Well, no, but I think that’s more due to the giant floating Homura in the sky and Yunyun and her band of maniacs blowing everyone up,” Corvax grumbled. “Come on. I don’t know why I put up with you anyway…”

“Cause ya loik my tig ole bitties!” Gorgutz said with a leer.

“Tig ole…? Wait, you don’t mean…” Corvax went green at the very thought, even as Gorgutz batted her long dark lashes at him.

“Dat’s a good color on ya, Beakie. Now come on, we’z got a grot ta krump!” Gorgutz said with an actual titter, which was deeply disturbing on several levels.

They snuck past several groups of orks, but then one large group, lead by a warboss with a standard adorned with several helmets of astartes on the standard that made rage churn in Corvax’s gut, made straight for them on their own way to a battle.

“Damnation, we’ll have to fight them and blow our cover, and we’re not even close to Ghazghkull yet,” Corvax growled, readying his lightning claws.

“Nah, they’z stupid gits. They’z won’t be seein’ through our cover. Made it myself. ROIT BOYZ!” Gorgutz bellowed so loudly that Corvax was certain she’d alerted the enemy. “MAKE LOIK A TREE!”

“Leaf? You want us to run?” Corvax demanded incredulously.

Gorgutz reached up and dragged Corvax down, shoving a twisted branch with a few pathetic leaves on it down the back of his armor. “Oi thought ya was a smart one! No, ya git! Trees can’t run, are ya stupid? Trees plant themselves and don’t move or talk, so shut it!”

Despite himself, Corvax froze, with one arm holding out a bunch of leaves, the other hiding his face behind a pathetically thin bit of wood that he could easily see around. The enemy band charged forward, until an ork at the front said, “Oi, ders a little forest ‘ere! We’z gotta go around it!”

“Dat ain’t a forest, ya grot!” the warboss bellowed. “Dat’s a copse dat is.”

“Oi don’t see no dead bodies in der boss,” one of the orks said, rubbing the back of his head in confusion.

The warboss backhanded the ork so hard he went skidding across the muddy ground. “No, ya git! A deader’s a corpse! A copse is a small stand a trees.”

“Wot, ya mean like a grove, boss?” another ork asked.

That earned him a backhand as well. “Wot, is you a thesaurus?”

“Uh, no boss, oi just-”

“Besides, dat ain’t a grove. A grove is a part o’ a bigger group a trees. Dat der’s a copse: a small, thick cluster o’ trees dat ain’t attached to a forest,” the warboss said knowingly, stepping up to the “shrug” that was just Gorgutz squatting down with leaves in her hair and two small branches held in her hands. “A grove ain’t got shrubbery neither, ya see? An dis here ain’t a tree.”

“But it’s got leaves and wood, boss. Ain’t that makin’ it a tree?” the first boy asked, picking himself up out of the muck.

“YA STUPID GIT! Didn’t dey teach ya nothin’ when you was a grot?”

“Oi got some learnin’. Ate a humie book once. Tasted nasty though,” the ork mused.

“WELL LISTEN UP! Da difference tween a shrug an a tree is dead simple,” the warboss said, pacing back and forth as his group of boyz stopped their march and listened to him.

Corvax couldn’t believe it. Was this ork actually giving a lecture on botany of all things? Since when did ORKS know anything about botany?

“Shrubs is reachin’ maturity at between ‘alf a foot ‘n ten feet high. An dey gots multiple stems, see? A tree when it’s grown is 10 feet high, and dey gots one big trunk in da middle, see?” for emphasis, the boss thumped Corvax’s breastplate, which made a hollow clanking sound.

“Ooooh,” the orks assembled said, all nodding.

“‘Ow come you know so much about trees, boss?” one of the nobs asked, stretching at his head in confusion.

“‘Cause trees is green! And wot’s bigger den a tree, eh?”

That was a deep thought that all the orks had to pause and ponder for several moments.

“...a gargant?” a mekboy said, raising one hand.

“YA STUPID GIT! Oi’s talkin’ about livin’ things, as any grot kin see! A Gargant ain’t alive, it’s a machine!” the warboss snarled.

“A squiggoth?” another boy ventured.

“No dat’s a point,” the warboss admitted. “But oi’ve seen a tree dat was bigger ‘n any squiggoth. Fell down and krumped one, actually. So ever since den, oi’ve known dat trees is da biggest and da strongest, and da greenest! So iffin ya wanna be proppa orky, ya gotta know your trees, ya see?”

“Hmmmmm,” all the boyz agreed, nodding.

Corvax couldn’t suppress a groan.

“Wot kinda tree is dat one, boss?” a nob asked, pointing at Corvax.

The warboss glanced at him. “Wot, are ya daft? Dat’s a raventree. NOW GET A MOVE ON YA GROTS!”

The mob moved on to Corvax’s utter astonishment, streaming around the squad of commandos that was pretending to be a copse and whooping as they headed towards a fight.

However, one ork boy lingered, waving his mates on. “You lads keep on, oi gots ta water da trees, heh heh.”

As the last of the orks streamed by, the ork began to unzip with a sigh, pointing himself towards Corvax.

“Nope,” he said, using a branch to stab the ork through the throat. “I don’t think so.”

The ork let out several gurgling noises, clutching at his throat as he sank to his knees. “Trees…is…da stompiest…”

Then he fell over, dead.

“Damn, dat warboss was right,” Gorgutz mused. “Trees are dead killy.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Corvax said with a sigh, and turned to head in the direction he knew Ghazghkull was in.

SO MY KNIGHT-INCANTOR CASTS SPIRIT STORM, WHICH HAS A CASTING VALUE OF SEVEN.

“MAGIC IS BULLSHIT AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD FOR USING IT! REAL MEN DON’T NEED THAT PUSSY MAGIC SHIT!” Khorne snarled, even as the Empress’ dice clattered on the table, revealing an eight.

LOOKS LIKE THAT PUSSY MAGIC SHIT IS GOING TO MAKE IT SO YOUR CHARGE RANGE IS REDUCED BY 1” IN THE NEXT PHASE, the Empress said smugly.

“I AM GOING TO MURDER THAT PRISSY STAFF WIELDING BITCH!” Khorne snarled.

“WHO’S WINNING?” Angron asked tiredly, still laying on the ground.

“I AM!” Khorn snarled, pointing at the table. “I’VE MADE THE EX-CORPSE PICK UP MORE POINTS AND MODELS THAN I HAVE.”

The table itself was silent, but across the carefully sculpted and placed terrain, it was indisputable that the Daughters of Khaine were annihilating the golden forces of the Empress. Khorn’s forces had taken losses as well, but the dice for him had been fairly hot, and he was far from a stupid player. Aggressive and hungry for the kill, yes, but it was paying dividends as far as removing the Empress’ Stormcast legion.

I HAVE LOST A CONSIDERABLE NUMBER OF MY FORCES, the Empress conceded, though she didn’t sound worried in the slightest.

“SUPER. CAN YOU HURRY IT UP ALREADY?” Angron demanded.

“OH SIMMER DOWN PUP, LET US OLD FARTS HAVE OUR FUN WHILE WE BATTLE IT OUT FOR YOUR SOUL,” Khorne chuckled, rattling some dice as he grinned down at the table.

The Empress, however, turned to Angron, her expression stern. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO FREE YOUR SOUL, MY SON.

“WHY DO YOU CARE? YOU NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME BEFORE,” Angron demanded.

I ALWAYS GAVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU. EVEN WHEN YOU WERE A LITTLE SHIT.

“IF THAT WERE TRUE, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE LEFT EVERYONE I KNEW AND CARED ABOUT TO DIE ON NUCERIA!”

The Empress was quiet as Khorne gleefully did some measurements, muttering to himself. “DAMN, THAT -1 TO CHARGE SUCKS. HMM, I SUPPOSE I CAN CHANGE THE ANGLE OF MY ATTACK HERE…YEAH, YEAH, THAT’LL STILL WORK, AND I’LL GET THAT DAMN MAGE.”

WHILE I HAVE ALWAYS LOVED MY SONS, THERE WAS A HIGHER PURPOSE. YOU KNOW THAT. I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO ALWAYS BE STUCK IN THOSE SLAVE PITS, ANGRON. I WANTED YOU TO INHERIT THE STARS, NOT A FORGOTTEN BALL OF MUD.

“I DIDN’T WANT THE STARS! I WANTED MY FRIENDS! MAYBE IF I’D HAD THEM, I WOULDN’T HAVE HAD THE BURNING DESIRE TO MURDER YOU AND DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU STOOD FOR ALL THE TIME. EVEN WITH THESE NAILS OUT, I STILL WANT THAT, MORE THAN ANYTHING!”

PERHAPS. MISTAKES WERE MADE. ESPECIALLY ON THE PARENTING FRONT. I GUESS IT WAS A MISTAKE TO THINK MY CHILDREN WOULD ACT LIKE ADULTS.

“OH FUCK YOU. THERE YOU GO AGAIN, BLAMING YOUR FAILURES ON US INSTEAD OF TAKING RESPONSIBILITY! THAT’S WHAT AN ADULT WOULD DO, ‘FATHER’.”

NO. YOU’RE RIGHT. I SHOULDN’T HAVE EXPECTED YOU TO BE WHAT YOU WERE NOT. YOU WERE IN PAIN, AND HURTING, AND I IGNORED IT. I SHOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU TIME TO GRIEVE, OR BETTER YET, LET YOU KEEP YOUR FRIENDS. I’M STARTING TO REALIZE THOSE CAN BE A BIT IMPORTANT FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.

“YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS IMPORTANT FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH? NOT HAVING ALL YOUR GUYS KILLED SO THEIR SKULLS CAN DECORATE MY-”

WE GET IT. YOU HAVE A SKULL THRONE. IT’S TACKY.

“SAYS THE ONE WITH THE GOLDEN THRONE.”

AT LEAST MINE IS THE RIGHT COLOR FOR A RULER.

“AND IT HAS SKULLS ON IT, DOESN’T IT? YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS I HAVE MORE. NOW QUIT TALKING AND GET OVER HERE, I’M ABOUT TO DELETE YOUR MAGE.”

Pausing, the Empress looked back at Angron, then knelt down beside him. “I’m sorry. If I could do it all over again, I’d be the father, or, well, mother, you needed. I was wrong.”

“TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE. FUCK OFF. EVEN IF YOU WIN THIS GAME, I’M GIVING MY SOUL BACK TO HIM. RIGHT AFTER I TRY TO KILL YOU AGAIN,” Angron said, then hocked a loogie towards the Empress’ eye. His angle was wrong, so it fell on her golden armor instead.

Reaching down, she touched it, then examined her fingers. She sighed, then pressed them to her cheek.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

PERHAPS IT’S THE CLOSEST I’LL GET TO TOUCHING YOU AGAIN. I’M SORRY, MY SON.

“YOU’RE ABOUT TO BE SORRIER! GET UP HERE OR I’M GOING TO START PICKING UP YOUR PIECES MYSELF. IT’S A FORMALITY ANYWAY, I’M WINNING THIS FIGHT!”

With a sigh, the Empress stood and turned back to the board, continuing the game for Angron’s soul, even as he glared daggers at the back of her head.

Over the past few weeks, Corvax had seen more than his fair share of big, smelly orks. He was with a group of them right now, in fact, with Gorgutz being on the list despite having shrunk several sizes with her recent changes. The previous title of “biggest and smelliest” had unfortunately gone to his brother Vulcan, who was now amongst the largest of the creatures Corvax had ever seen. He wasn’t entirely sure that “ork size” directly correlated to “ork smell” but he had yet to meet a single one that didn’t support the theory.

Which was why the extremely pungent odor emanating from the enormous gargant that was trundling its way across the battlefield in a plume of acrid smoke and cacophonous noise made Corvax pretty sure it was where Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka, the great prophet of the WAAAAAGH was.

That, and the enormous loudspeaker blaring the great Warboss’ voice from it.

THE NEXT ONE O’ YA GITS THAT SAYS ANYFING ABOUT BEIN’ FRIENDS WIT DA HUMIES GETS A KRUMPIN’!

*PSSSST PSSSST PSSST*

OI, WOT’S DAT? O COURSE OL’ BALE EYE IS AN EXCEPTION. BEST DAMN FOITS O’ ME LOIF WAS WIT HIM! ‘ES ME BEST MATE!

“Unbelievable,” Corvax muttered, shaking his head. He turned to his purple and supposedly crack troops and pointed. “Right. That’s where Ghazghkull is. Our job is to get up there and kill him. Once that’s done, the power of his WAAAAGH will be broken, and Homura will become the new ork god or something. I don’t know, the point is, that loudspeaker is giving me a headache and I can’t think straight with it on, so we’re going to shut it off.”

“You heard ‘im, boyz and gurlz! We’z gonna ‘ave the best scrap o’ our loives, and tear down dat there talky box, and put up our own!” Gorgutz bellowed.

“What?! No, I said no such-”

“WAAAAAAGGHHH!” the kommandos bellowed, and activated their various rocket packs, jetting gleefully onto the gargant. For a moment, Corvax thought they’d simply be swatted out of the sky by the orks already onboard the great machine, but a bunch of orks firing their weapons while jumping towards the gargant wasn’t exactly something perceived as hostile. Oh, the other orks certainly did fire back, but it was more of an enthusiastic greeting than an actual attempt to stop the boarding action.

“D’awww, da kids is havin’ fun,” Gorgutz said happily, having remained at Corvax’s side. She was squinting and watching as a fight broke out as their party boarded. Actually, Corvax had to do a double take. There was fighting all over the gargant, apparently over who got to be near the best weapons or the loudest engine parts. There was slightly more intense fighting where the kommandos had boarded, but it was pretty hard to tell them apart from, well, all of the other orks, save for the fact that there were gurlz in their party.

“I guess it’s up to me then,” Corvax growled, charging up his own pack.

“Nah, us! Dis is our first date,” Gorgutz said happily.

Corvax’s head whipped around. “Wait, wha-”

“WAAAAAGH!” Gorgutz bellowed, and grabbed ahold of the now screaming Corvax as she lept atop the gargant.

A few stray shots pinged off of Corvax’s armor, but the orks seemed mostly focused on getting closer to Homura and her mixed WAAAAAGH of Imperial troops and orks. He looked down, and his resolve steeled. There, on top of the head of the Gargant was indeed the largest ork he’d ever seen, a match in size for one of the Beast’s own. Ghazghkull was ranting into his loudspeaker, not even paying attention.

“AN’ ANOTHER FING: IF OLE BALE EYE WAS HERE, DERE WOULDN’T BE ANY O’ DIS NONSENSE ABOUT GURLZ. WE’D HAVE A ROIT AN PROPPA WAAAAGH WITH DA BOYZ, AND NO MISTAKE!”

With a roar, Corvax activated the Raven’s Talons and plunged, aiming right for the skull of Mag Thrakka and hoping to end the fight in one stroke. Just as he was about to rip the ork’s head from his body, some battle sense warned Ghazghkull, and he jerked back, roaring in rage and swinging his great claw up to ring against Corvax’s talons.

“OI, WOTS DIS DEN? A BEAKIE, FINKS ‘E CAN-”

Witty repartee had never really been one of Corvax’s strengths, so instead of answering, he let himself become one with the shadows, slipping into the darkness cast by the looming clouds and the big WAAAAGH banner.

“-WOT? WHERE’D ‘E GO?! GET OUT ‘ERE YA STUPID BEAKIE AND QUIT ‘IDIN LIKE A GROT!”

“DAT AIN’T A GROT DAT’S ME BOYFRIEND!” Gorgutz landed in a spray of weapons fire that mostly pinged off Ghazghkull’s armor, but it did have the effect of drawing the larger warbosses attention with a bellow.

Corvax silently cursed and blessed Gorgutz for being such a pain, then darted out of the shadows, the Raven’s Talon’s pulsing with lightning. He managed to bury one in the back of Mag Thraka’s armor, but the warboss spun around, firing wildly from his great cannon and flailing about with his klaw.

“STOP RUNNIN’ AND STAR FOITIN’ YA GROT!” Ghazghkull snarled, swinging at Corvax with enough fury that he ripped half a dozen nobs in half.

Corvax, however, had already melted back into the shadows. He would have struck at Ghazghkull again, but Gorgutz was being forced to fight off a dozen lesser bosses that had all rushed her at the same time. A part of Corvax wanted to leave her to die and let the other orks tear her apart, but another part of him knew he’d miss the belligerent ork.

While a warboss was normally a match for any space marine, even the Lieutenants of Mag Thrakka were no match for a Primarch in his fury. Flitting between shadows, Corvax chopped one warboss in two, skewered another through his gut, then drew a pistol and blew another’s head off.

Seeing him come to her aid, Gorgutz grinned and blasted another warboss with her shoota, blowing him mostly in half. “See, dis is wot oi love about ya, Corvy! Ya know ‘ow teh treat a gurl to a proppa foit!”

“WE ARE NOT DATING!” Corvax snarled, parrying another titanic blow from Ghazghkull, then shooting another ork that had been trying to flank him before stepping into the shadow of Mag Thrakka and appearing on the ork’s other side.

“Ah, oi knows wot dis is. You is a tsundere. Yunyun explained all about tsunderes,” Gorgutz said sagely, even as she fired a burst into the outraged Ghazhkull.

“DER’S SOMEFIN WRONG WIT YA! YOU’S SMELLS ORK, AND YAS TALKS ORKY, BUT YA AIN’T PROPPA ORKY!” Ghazghkull snarled, turning his attention to Gorgutz and firing off his cannon at her wildly.

She easily dodged the fire with a laugh, shooting back with far more accurate blasts that further enraged the big warboss, even as Corvax sliced at Ghazghkull’s knees.

“Oi’s proppa orky! Oi’s green, foity, stompy, an’ dead cunnin’! Can’t get no more orky den dat,” Gorgutz chuckled, using her rocket pack to leap back to atop the high tower with the megaphone, where she sniped several more orks.

“YA AIN’T A PROPPA BOY! YA’VE BEEN CORRUPTED BY DAT HOMUDAKKA GIT AN’ HER CULT O’ DAKKA! DA ONLY PROPPA ORKY GODS IS MORK ‘N GORK!” Ghazghkull snarled, firing a few shots at Gorgutz, but keeping most of his attention on Corvax. “STOP RUNNIN’ YA SNEAKY GIT! STAND ‘N FOIT!”

A plan forming in his mind, Corvax did just that, dancing away from the massive Gork’s Klaw, then slicing at Mag Thrakka’s arm, attempting to sever it. That got a roar of pain from Ghazghkull who attempted to slam his cannon into Corvax.

“DAT’S ME BEST KLAW! OI GOT IT AS A PRESENT FROM OLE BALE EYE! DON’T YOU FINK YA CAN GET IT AWAY FROM ME!”

“Oh? Are you dating a human too?” Corvax sneered, then danced back a little further. To his delight, Gorgutz seemed to have caught on, and unloaded another burst at Ghazghkull’s back, right where Corvax had stabbed him earlier.

“RAAAAGH! DON’T YA MOCK ME, BEAKIE! WOT ME ‘N BALE EYE GOT IS SPECIAL, NOT LOIK DAT DISGUSTING FING YOU AND DIS FAKE ORK GOT!”

“Pfff, ya’s just jealous dat Corvy ‘ere gives me poems. Ya ‘ear dis one?

Green as sewage,

Angry as a bear

I can’t get this ork

Out of my hair

“H-how did you find that?!” Corvax spluttered. That stupid little ditty had been supposed to be insulting to Gorgutz, but he had written that in his private journal!

“Oi’s dead kunnin’ so oi’s pilfered ya poem book and read it. Dere’s more, ya wanna ‘ere dem, Ghaz?” Gorgurtz teased.

The big warboss stopped in his attempts to dismember Corvax, pausing as he panted for breath, half turning to face Gorgutz. “...NO.”

“Ya, no one wants ta here da beakie’s stupid-” another ork began. Ghazghkull blasted him to bits.

Puffing herself up, Gorgutz recited

Roses are Red

Orks are green

This crazy girl

Is a killing machine

Why does Gorgutz pester me?

She just want’s a fight

Who thought orks with boobies

Would be a good sight?

“Oh no…” Corvax moaned. “Please, just stop…”

“Ole…Ole Bale Eye never wrote me nothin,” Ghazghkull sniffed, raising his power klaw to wipe away a tear.

Jumping down from her perch, Gorgutz landed and reached up to pat Ghazghkull on the shoulder. “Der der, ‘e got ya yer claw.”

“Oi made dat up. Oi says he gave it teh me, but really oi jes’ made it outta a tank ‘e was in. But oi kin still smells ‘is blood on it,” Ghazghkull said fondly.

“I think I’m going to be sick. Can we just go back to fighting?” Corvax demanded.

“Yeah, yeah,” Thrakka muttered, and fired off a burst of his cannon without looking. He shot two nobs off their feet, but missed Corvax by a mile.

“‘Ey, be sensitive. Ghaz needs a minute, see?” Gorgrutz growled. “Foitin’ aint’ da solution to everything.”

“Now dat’s a real unorky thought,” Ghazghkull growled, turning towards Gorgutz menacingly.

“Well, iffin’ ya want a proppa foit, ya gots ta talk it through first, riot? An ya needs to plan it, or da boyz in gurlz aint’ gonna have a proppa scrap, now will dey? Ya knows dat. Ya’ve planned more den one WAAAAGH in ya time. So, fink o’ dis as da plannin’ for ya get into a proppa WAAAAGH with Ole Bale Eye.”

“Oi don’t even fink ‘e noticed me no more,” Ghazghkull said, sitting down onto the deck with a loud thump. “Ya know wot I heard? He was foitin’ da blue boyz. Not even da bugeyz or da panzees! Da blue boyz! Dey can’t give ya a proppa scrap! I throw dis whole WAAAAGH, and does Sebastian even show up? No, ‘e don’t!”

“Sounds like ya relationship is goin’ through a real rough patch,” Gorgutz said sympathetically, patting Ghazghukull affectionately. “But, ya know, some couples ain’t exclusive. Dey foit other people, keeps things fresh on da battlefield, and in the bedroom!”

“Bedroom?” Ghazghukull asked, confused.

“Ya, it’s dis new kind o’ foitin. Turns out, da ‘umies been doin’ it with each other, and keepin’ orks out o’ it! Well, Homudakka, she learned about dis foitin, see, and dat’s why we gots gurlz now, so we’s can do dis new foitin’ in da bedroom wit da humies!” Gorgutz explained enthusiastically.

“WOT!? Do you mean dat Ole Bale Eye’s been cheatin’ on me with da Blue Boyz wit dis new foitin?!” Ghazghkull demanded, jumping up to his feet.

“Well, did ya tell ‘im ya was wantin’ teh be ‘is boyfriend?” Gorgutz inquired.

“Seriously, can I just kill you now? Or better yet, you kill me, so I don’t have to live in this galaxy anymore,” Corvax pleaded.

“Oi don’t feel loik it no more. It ain’t da same. Yer good ‘n all Beakie, but ya ain’t Ole One Eye,” Ghazghkull said wistfully. “Best foit’s o’ me loif was wit ‘im.” The great warboss turned to Gorgutz. “Do ya fink Sebestian would be me boyfriend?”

“Maybe. Dat’s why oi became a gurl! Aside from likein’ me shotta better, oi figured da best way teh get Corvy to foit me proppa was iffin’ I was a gurl. Vulcan says he’s still a virgin, ya know.”

That elicited only stuttering noises of protest Corvax.

“Wot’s a virgin?” Ghazghkull asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t know, but oi fink it means ‘e ain’t had a proppa scrap in da bedroom yet. But oi’s workin’ on ‘im.”

“Hmmm,” Ghazghukull mused, scratching at his chin with the Klaw. He gave Gorgutz and appraising look. “Yo fink if I was a gurl, den Sebestian would foit me proppa, stead o’ goin’ off against da blue boyz?”

“It’s worth a shot, eh, boss?” Gorgutz said with a shrug.

The Prophet of the WAAAAGH considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Makes sense.”

Then, to Corvax’s horror, the giant ork began to shrink, even as he, no, she, detached her power claw. She was still big, green, and ugly, but she was also very abundantly female with long dark green hair and, well, OK, maybe calling her “ugly” wasn’t quite true. She wasn’t as pretty as Gorgutz but-

Corvax realized what he was thinking, and went over to one of the rusty iron beams and began pounding his head against it.

“LISTEN UP! OI’S HAD A REVELATION!” Ghazghkull bellowed into her loudspeaker. “WE’Z GONNA BE FRIENDS WIT HOMUDAKKA. GORK ‘N MORK IS OVERATED. OI’VE DISCOVERED ME PURPOSE IN LOIF: TO GET THE BIGGEST WAAAGH EVER TOGETHER, AN’ MAKE OLE BALE EYE FOIT ME PROPPA!”

There were loud cheers from the orks, and plenty of wild weapons fire.

“Hey boss, we won!” Gorgutz said happily, popping up next to Corvax.

He turned to her, blood dripping down his forehead and into his eyes. “I see that. Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

“Now, I know’s yer disappointed we didn’t get ta krump Ghaz…”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Corvax moaned.

“...so’s instead, oi told ‘er me ‘n you was borrowin’ ‘er quarters. We can ‘ave a proppa scrap, then a nap, and you’ll feel better,” Gorgutz declared, and began hauling Corvax away.

“A nap sounds perfect, maybe when I wake up, this nightmare will be over,” Corvax groaned. Then the rest of what Gorgutz had said processed.

“WAIT, NO, NOOOOOOOOO!!!” Corvax screamed, turning around and digging his fingers into the dirty deck plating in an effort to stop his inevitable doom.

Gorgutz just chuckled, and grabbed Corvax by one leg, dragging him along as his fingers dug into the deck plating, ripping it up with a scream as she forced him along. “Aw, come on, ya knows you’ll feel better after a proppa scrap! Besides, both o’ us should try out this new foitin’.”

Weeping, Corvax was dragged into the bedchamber, where a roit and proppa scrap ensued.

Somewhere along the way, he even realized he was enjoying himself.

The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 19

Carmen Dei 19: An Ill Wind Blows

Despite their best intentions to depart Berlin at the crack of dawn, German punctuality actually failed, and they departed closer to 8am than not. This was after a mostly sleepless night, but the plan was to stop in Eichstätt, rest for a few hours, then proceed with the last hour or so to Munich and assault the Gesellschaft compound there.

Just as they were all climbing into the various cars, vans, and trucks they had assembled, Vornehm arrived, along with a dozen capes from the Meisters, and several armored cars loaded with what looked like a company of GSG9 troops in heavy kit. The Gentleman Cape himself was standing leaning on his cane in the road outside of the Dandelion’s Breeze, his capes and several officers around him.

“I am afraid we are going to have to ask all of you to disperse,” Vornehm said firmly. “While we have overlooked your formation of a new parahuman organization, we cannot allow open warfare within the borders of Germany.”

Capri opened her mouth to say something biting that probably would have incited a fight, but Naomi put her hand on Capri’s arm and she shut her mouth. Instead, Cookie stepped forward, pulling her mask down and looking about.

“War? I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my LARP group. We’re going to be doing some Vampire the Masquerade, we got the props for it and everything. You boys and girls are welcome to join if you want.”

A thin smile formed on Vornehm’s lips, even as the Knights fanned out to either side of Cookie and the Meisters spread out. Then he caught sight of the imposing armored figure stepping to Cookie’s right, and Vornehm’s humor vanished. “So, you switch sides so easily, Hospitallar? I thought you valued oaths more than that.”

“Once, good men stood aside, and Germany was overrun with monsters. I am standing on the side that is taking action, Vornehm. Where do you stand?” Hospitallar demanded, his voice echoing slightly from his helm.

“I stand on the side of law and order. The Meisters and the GSG will take action against the Gesellschaft, but we cannot allow lawlessness,” Vornehm said firmly. He glanced up, and his frown deepened. “Or foreign intervention in our own affairs.”

“Leon and Gunter are personal friends of mine,” Legend stated, hovering just over the heads of the crowd of knights along with Vorreiter, who was drifting on her glider, goggles over her eyes, stern expression on her face, and wings loaded with fluffy Baron Bunnies. Dorothy fluttered alongside her in moth form, her wings glowing with green light. “I’m here to help save them.”

“And when I contacted Director Costa-Brown, she denied any direct Protectorate involvement. Curious,” Vornehm said. He turned to the crowd, obviously searching for someone. “Where is Venti? Do not hide behind your puppets. I would speak with you face to face.”

“Puppets?” Capri said with a snort. “Are you serious? Do you even know him at all?”

There were a few murmurs and chuckles from the Knights, but Vornehm and the Meisters didn’t look amused in the slightest.

“If Venti will not show himself, then I am afraid that leaves me little choice,” Vornehm repeated. “You will disperse, and set aside this foolish crusade!”

There were angry mutters from the knights, but Cookie raised a hand to quell them to silence. After a moment, she pointed a finger at Vornehm. “The only reason we are here is because you were not doing your job.”

Vornehm went purple at that and opened his mouth, but Cookie continued, “I’m not finished, and if you’re half the reasonable gentleman you claim to be, you’ll let me finish my statement.” That earned her a curt nod, and she went on, “You know this country’s gone to hell. This whole world has gone to hell. And it’s because we just keep following the same, broken systems. You let the Nazis back in because you thought they were a stick to use against the Endbringers. Am I wrong?”

Vornehm’s jaw worked for a moment. “They have gone too far this time. We will deal with them, but we must follow-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Cookie snapped, taking a step forward, which made two GSG troopers' guns snap up. They got cold looks from Cookie, who took another deliberate step forward. “You had a chance to deal with them. Well, here’s my offer: you let us clean up your mess, and we’ll be your stick against the Endbringers. Because I promise you this: Venti might not be willing to fight the Nazis himself, but I’m willing to bet an Endbringer qualifies for divine intervention.”

“It does, actually,” Capri agreed, looking around. “Where is that spoony bard?”

“Final Fantasy!” Itul said, snapping his fingers even as Capri went beet red. “I love those games too!”

“That is not how this works,” Vornehm declared, tapping his cane on the ground in irritation. “There is a procedure to these matters, a right way to do things.”

“Fine. Deputize us,” Cookie said, folding her arms over her chest.

“I…beg your pardon?” Vornehm said, frowning at her.

“Deputize us,” Cookie repeated. “Under Article 143 of the Basic Law of the Federal Republic of Germany: Parahumans, later amended by Article 145 to include Vision Holders, may be formally deputized by officers of the law to perform judicial actions, including but not limited to End Bringers, parahuman threads, or times of national disaster or distress. A case I am certain you will remember, Herr Bueller v. Meisters, indicated that members of the nationally sponsored cape team, in this case, the Meisters, may be deputized to help fight other parahumans during attacks against the common good.”

Vornehm raised a hand in protest. “Yes, but-”

“-and while Germany does not follow case law, in this case, the ruling was later legally formalized into the law known commonly as the Deputy Cape Law, and has been held up in court and used to sustain various rulings, including holding the government responsible for actions capes performed while deputized.”

“That does not incentivize me to deputize you all now,” Vornehm said, sounding rather exasperated at this point. “We do not need a war in Germany!”

“Too bad, you have one. Because those assholes are going to keep attacking good German citizens for daring to not bow to them, or for the crime of being gay. Because you and I both know that’s the real reason the Feisty Ferret was attacked,” Cookie said, her voice now low and menacing. “So are you going to stand there and pretend the laws apply here in Germany? Just, you know, so long as you’re not what the Gesellschaft and the Land and Social Reform Party deem undesirable.”

“That is not what is intended, and you know it,” Vornehm said, though he looked like he was growing distinctly uncomfortable, as were the GSG and Meister capes.

“Vorneheim, the Meisters failed,” Hospitallar said, stepping forward. “We stood aside and did nothing for too long. I stood aside and did nothing for too long. Now we have a chance to make it right. I’m a Meister, and I officially sanctioned this meeting as my deputies.”

“You did?” Vornehm said, frowning at the mention.

“Eeyup!”

All eyes turned to the green garbed bard that stumbled out of the Dandelion's Breeze, his cheeks red and flushed, an open bottle of wine in one hand. He staggered into Cookie who shoved Venti off with an irritated hiss, then grinned at Vornehm. “We got the papers and everything! Show him, Cookie!”

“I don’t…” Cookie began…then frowned, patting at the pouch on her belt Venti had bumped into. Slowly, she pulled out what sure looked like a legally binding contract, with several pages, and dozens of signatures on it.

“I, Hospitaliar of the Meisters, do hereby exercise my lawful right to designate deputies in time of crisis, and anoint…it goes on for some time,” Cookie said, passing the paper over to Vornehm as he read through the papers. “Anyway, here’s my signature and all the others. Looks like everyone here signed.”

“I don’t remember-” Itul began until Sara elbowed him hard in the gut. “I mean, yeah! I totally did that! I’m the Red‘’Signed The Right Paperwork’ Oni!”

Vornehm looked at the signatures on the documents, then up at Cookie, then back down. Then he started to laugh. “Well played, Mageister Luft. Well played.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Venti said innocently, then took a swig of the wine and let out a sonorous belch. “Well, are we going to go kick Nazi ass, or what!?”

“It seems all the paperwork is in order,” Vorehm said, passing the papers over to a GSG colonel, who began to read through them with a baffled expression on his face. “Very well. As this is, in fact, a legally sanctioned operation, and not an act of crude vigilantism…” He tapped his cane on the pavement twice, like a judge's gavel. “I hereby reaffirm Hospitallar’s designation of those present as deputies of the Meisters to deal with the situation in Munich.”

“So, you’re going to get out of our way?” Cookie demanded, her eyes not leaving the GSG colonel.

The officer folded the papers and handed them back to Cookie. “All is in order, it seems.”

“Stand aside?” Vornehm raised his aristocratic eyebrow, and everyone tensed. Shaking his head ruefully, he leaned onto his cane, one hand on another, “My dear girl, I believe I’m what you would call reinforcements.”

There were very few remaining Gesellschaft facilities in Germany, and the one in Munich had not been particularly important. Perhaps that was why Venti had ignored it when he had visited the city. It had originally lacked any labs, instead being nothing more than an office complex with facilities to house the capes that were to enforce order in the city. It had been new enough that there had been no capes here only a month ago, but it had been set to expand.

Now, the offices were packed full, and the Gesellschaft had seized Alter Hof, the former Imperial Residence of Louis IV of the Holy Roman Empire. The building had been destroyed during the Second World War, but it had been rebuilt, and Walter Von Solf had seized it as his own imperial residence. Now, he was surrounded by his capes, paramilitary units armed with conventional weapons, and every symbol of opulence and power he could find.

He sat now in his crisp white suit with gold pince-nez glasses, red pocket handkerchief taken out and spread across his neck as a napkin as he ate his breakfast, which in this case were cuts of fresh ham and warm rolls, procured from a diner not far away, as the Gesellschaft had neglected to bring any cooks, or even sufficient provisions, with them to their new headquarters.

Richard, along with a few other high-level lieutenants, had joined Walter for breakfast and was talking with forced joviality as they waited for the news that they knew had to come: Venti and his minions were either in the city and attacking, or would be there soon. Being on the defensive was something Richard hated, but they had their plans for dealing with Venti when he arrived.

When a worried looking minion hurried into the room and made his way over to Walter, the discussion quieted instantly. When the man bent to whisper to Walter, he was stopped with a raised hand.

“Everyone here can be trusted. Say what you have to say aloud, so I do not have to repeat it,” Walter ordered.

The aide swallowed nervously, but nodded. “Yes, Herr Lotus. Er, well, our spies report that the Meisters did indeed confront Venti and his dogs.”

“Excellent,” Walter said with a chuckle. “They will fight then, and be slowed down. Our position improves.”

“Uh, no, Herr Lotus,” the aide said, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he shook his head. “The Meisters did confront the Knights as planned, but, ah, they have not fought the Knights…”

“They stood aside? Bah. Vornehm is weak. Very well, we were prepared for that eventuality,” Walter said with a sneer, tossing down his knife in disgust.

“Not…exactly, Herr Lotus. You see…”

“Out with it!” Walter barked, and the messenger cringed.

“Sir…Vornehm and the Meisters, and the GSG…they have joined with the Knights, and are coming here now. They will arrive in mere hours.”

An explosion went off and the table cracked as Walter slammed his palm down, jumping to his feet as his face constricted in rage. Richard was on his feet as well at the news, feeling a mixture of outrage and disgust. And, though he tried to deny it, an increasingly large niggling worm of fear in his guts.

Panting, his suit blackened, his face purple with rage, Walter slowly stood, pulling his red kerchief out from his neck and wiping off his hands and face with it. “Very well. Then they shall die like the rest of the dogs.”

“Herr Lotus, if we attack the Meisters and the GSG, the government-”

“Fuck the government!” Walter snarled and snapped his fingers. “That for them! We would have had to throw out those fools in the Diet who serve the zionists regardless! We have simply moved up our timetable! With the Meisters and these so-called Knights destroyed, nothing can stop us from securing our dominion!”

Walter raised one hand in salute, and shouted, “HEIL THE FOURTH REICH!”

Everyone else, Richard included, mimicked the gesture, and the room resounded with cheers for a few moments.

Abruptly, Walter lowered his arm, and silence swiftly fell. Richard found himself leaning forward, holding his breath and listening.

“We will continue with Operation Werewolf,” Walter said, his tone calm and under control again. “Make their road here one paved in blood.”

Crouching amidst the copse of trees north of Witzelshofen, Schutzstaffel and her men watched the highway down below them. Off to her right, windmills spun in the breeze, and she could hear a dog barking in the distance over the roar of the traffic, probably from one of the nearby homes along the road. She had with her a dozen men, two of them blaster capes, and the others simply common thugs armed with RPGs and rifles.

There was a burst of static on her radio, followed by another. That was the signal from their lookouts, and she sneered.

“I cannot believe those fools are actually driving along the road,” she said, pointing to the spot she’d marked. “Wait for the first of their vehicles to pass. We hit them hard, then get out. Panzerfaust and his group will know to do the same.”

Her men nodded, and she gritted her teeth. She would make up for her failure, and prove herself to the Gesellschaft that she was no fool. She had been caught unawares last time, but not this time. Just a minute more, and those untermensch would feel her wrath.

She never looked up at the small shape high above her, gliding on the breeze. It was one of her men who cried out when something fell from above, hitting him on the head before bouncing off.

Everyone started, and Schutzstaffel instantly formed a barrier around them, shielding them from further attack before she even noticed what it was. When she did, she blinked in confusion at what she found.

A little red doll with bunny ears was dancing on the cold, leaf-strewn ground at her feet, vibrating back and forth, and making little squeaking sounds.

“What the fuck?” one of her men said, and leaned forward, frowning at the doll as the barrier flickered over his head.

Something niggled at the back of Schutzstaffel’s mind, but she couldn’t quite think what it was.

“A toy? Where’d it come from?” one of the capes asked, stepping forward.

“I don’t know, check it,” Schutzstaffle ordered. She had seen this before, but where?

The cape picked the gyrating bunny doll up, and it instantly squeaked, “Vengeance!”

Right before the doll exploded, Schutzstaffel remembered the last time she’d seen a Baron Bunny before. It had been right before it had detonated at the Frankfurt facility. It had been dark then, and the burst of smoke and flames had overridden the memory of the cutesy package.

If she hadn’t had her barrier up, Baron Bunny would have only caused some serious injuries, similar to how a flashbang would at close quarters, but it would likely have only killed the cape holding it. Unfortunately for them, Schutzstaffel’s barrier was a bit too close, keeping them ensconced in a space safe from outside attacks. As it was, the force of the blast reverberated inside of Schutzstaffel’s barrier, and killed her and ten of her companions, including both Parahumans. The two survivors were deaf for the rest of their lives, and one lost both arms and a leg, while the other was blind and missing all his teeth.

Panzerfaust’s squad across from her fared slightly better, in that they survived the Baron Bunny. Panzerfaust made the mistake of using his blaster abilities to send out a barrage of the small bomblets he could make towards the highway. A miraculous wind kicked up, however, blowing them right back in his face. They were defused, fortunately for the nazis.

Legend’s laser blasts, however, were not. It turned out that 90% power was still more than sufficient to scour the earth of filth, and Legend wasn’t in a charitable mood towards thugs who attempted to attack what they thought were civilian vehicles.

In the end, there were five survivors of the two dozen would-be ambushers, but none were able to report the total defeat. Perhaps they should have thought better of planning an ambush of the Knights of Favonius in such a windy place, but then again, no one had quite worked that out yet.

“I killed them!? But… but it was just a flashbang!” Vorreiter cried, tears filling her eyes. Rächerin reached out to place a hand on her friend’s shoulder, which only further cemented in Capri’s mind that those two were definitely banging. “I didn’t mean…”

“You successfully avenged our fallen comrades,” Rächerin said firmly, even as Vorreiter turned around and pressed her face into her friend’s chest. She rubbed the smaller woman’s back as she hiccuped. “It is well. We knew that this would be a battle, and that these monsters were past redemption.”

“They’re Nazis. Nothing of value was lost,” Capri said bluntly.

“But… but I’ve never killed anyone before,” Vorreiter hiccuped, her voice slightly muffled as her face was still pressed up against Rächerin’s costume. “I… I didn’t want to… I didn’t think…”

“Don’t be ashamed of your tears,” Legend said quietly. Capri started, looking up as the American hero landed beside them.

They had pulled off to the side of the road, traffic now blocked by the GSG in both directions. They’d been getting a police escort, with cars on the road ahead of them, but now, the route to Munich was being cleared in both directions before they would proceed forward. No one had been hurt in their little army, thanks to a “hint” from Venti that “there might be some trouble a couple of miles ahead.”

They’d had out scouts, of course, Vorreiter and Legend, along with a few other fliers, but they’d missed the ambush in their first flyover. When Venti had pointed out exactly where the ambush was at, they’d taken quick steps to blunt it, and succeeded. Rather spectacularly in Capri’s opinion, with a good start of eighteen dead Nazis.

“B-but… they were evil, right? W-was I wrong to kill them?” Vorreiter asked Legend nervously, peeking out from around Rächerin.

“Yes, they were evil,” Naomi said gently, coming over and giving the distraught Vorreiter a hug as well. “And no, you weren’t wrong to kill them.”

“But… then why… why should I not be ashamed of my tears?” the poor tinker asked, scrubbing at her eyes.

“Because it shows you’re still human,” Legend told her gently. “It shows that you’re not a monster. I’ve killed before. I will again, probably later on today, unless I miss my guess. But I don’t enjoy it. I never have. Never will. I feel sick each time. The nightmares…”  He breathed a heavy sigh, then removed his domino mask, and gave Vorreiter a pained smile. “You’ll probably have them too. If you can… find someone who’ll hold you when you wake up weeping. My partner does that for me. Without him…I don’t think I could get through some of those nights. Find a good doctor too, one who can help you.”

Looking sick, Vorreiter nodded. “I… yes. I’ll do that.”

She pushed away from the others, giving Rächerin a pained smile. “I’m OK. I’d better get back in the air. We need to watch for more attacks.”

“Are you certain?” Rächerin asked, looking pained herself, her eyes having gone red, with unshed tears straining to break free.

“Yeah,” Vorreiter managed with a heavy sigh. She forced a smile on her face. “Like you said. Vengeance! I don’t like it, but… well. They’re evil. We gave them a chance to stop. Lord Venti gave them many chances to stop. Now we make them stop.”

“And there’s only one way to stop Nazis,” Capri agreed, clenching her fist as electro arced over her knuckles. “Good on you, little bunny. Keep at it.”

“Right!” With one last hug for Rächerin, Vorreiter jogged back to her glider. She ran a few steps, then jumped off the berm, and took off into the sky. Her companion watched her go, the tall woman only now allowing tears to trickle down silently.

“Be safe,” Rächerin whispered.

Capri leaned in close. “So, how long have you two…?”

Rächerin turned, blinking at her. “Known one another? Since high school.”

“Right, but I mean, how long have you…” Capri made scissors with her fingers, then crudely jammed them together.

“Capri!” Naomi gasped and smacked Capri’s arms down.

Rächerin had gone beet red, while Legend was blushing, hastily replacing his mask and coughing as he stepped away. “W-we do not…that is, we are just friends!”

“Ah, come on, you can tell us,” Capri said with a wink, putting her arm around Naomi and dragging her close enough to plant a kiss on her partner's forehead as she squealed in protest.

“She is not, that is, we do not-! T-that is far too crude!” Rächerin blustered, still utterly embarrassed.

“Too bad. Try it sometime! She’ll need comforting later. If you need any tips, just ask, I’m very- OOOF!”

Withdrawing her elbow from Capri’s gut, Naomi gave her a flat look, then turned and smiled at Rächerin. “I apologize, Capri can be rather crude. But I do think she will need a friend in the coming days.”

“Ah, come on Naomi, you know they would be,” Capri began, grinning and rubbing her bruised ribs as she straightened. She cut off at Naomi’s cold and very disappointed look. “I mean, uh, you’d be a cute couple.”

“Uh… thank you?” Rächerin said, sounding rather dazed. She looked off into the sky, where Vorrieter was rapidly disappearing. “I confess, I had not thought…” she swallowed. “Stay safe, Amber. Come back to me…”

“Right, let’s get moving people!” Cookie’s voice called. “Saddle up! We got the all-clear! Stay sharp! No telling where more of those bastards could be hiding!”

Capri got back in the van, where Venti was pretending to nap in the back seat still, Naomi climbing into the passenger seat. Even without looking, Capri could feel the gaze.

“What?” Capri said as she started up the engine.

Naomi turned away from her. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it really loud.”

Her response was a sniff, then, “Just keep your eye out. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?” Capri teased, easing the clutch and putting the van in first as she chugged away down the road.

The look her lover gave her dried up the humor Capri had been aiming for. It was full of hurt, fear, and anxiety. “Oh.”

“Hmm. Don’t pressure those two,” Naomi said, turning back around to scan the passing countryside.

“You know they’d be cute together…” Capri teased.

“Mmm.”

“Aw, come on, you know I’m worried about you too!” Capri said. She glanced in the back mirror, where Venti had his hat pulled over his eyes and was still pretending to nap. “Come on, back me up, Venti! They’d be cute, and I do care about Naomi!”

Venti let out a very ostentatious and distinctly unhelpful snore. Annoyingly, it also sounded vaguely amused.

“Jerk,” Capri grumbled. She put out a hand, holding it out toward Naomi. After a moment, the other woman took it, giving her hand a tight squeeze. When Naomi looked back at her, there were tears in her eyes. “Hey, it’ll be OK. We’ve got Barbatos on our side.”

“Yes,” Naomi said quietly, jerking a nod. “I just… I saw those bodies, Capri… and I just…”

“What? Fuck ‘em,” Capri growled, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Capri… Venti was right. They are people. They looked… They looked like any other dead people. When we searched the bodies… I found a picture of a little girl. That woman, Schutzstaffel…she was a mother…”

“So?” Capri demanded. Naomi tried to pull her hand away, and Capri sighed. “Look, I get it. You and that little rabbit are bleeding hearts. Which is why you need a big strong woman with a big sword to watch out for you and carve up the ugly bastards that threaten you.”

Naomi sniffed, and forced a pained smile on her face, jerking a nod.

“... and then screw your brains out to help you feel- OW! Pinching me with your powers is cheating! And don’t tell me that was Venti!” Capri squawked.

“I wouldn’t tell a lie,” Naomi sniffed. She sighed. “Honestly. You could deal with your tension in a less crude manner.”

“Hey, I’m nervous as hell. You remember how bad the jokes got before I met your parents? Because I kid you not, they will get worse now, because I’m fucking terrified,” Capri growled, her one handed grip on the steering wheel tightening until the faux leather creaked.

Naomi leaned over and brushed her lips over Capri’s cheek. “Well, then maybe the ‘big strong woman with a sword’ needs her delicate little flower to comfort her, and remind her that she can kick some posterior if it comes to it.”

“You can say ass, you know. Your mom can’t hear you,” Capri teased.

“I prefer to use a more refined vocabulary,” Naomi said with a roll of her eyes. Then her gaze softened. “But don’t worry, Capri. We’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll try not to sweat so much,” Capri sighed. Then she brightened. “Hey, did you hear the one about the two villages, the monk, and the mule?”

Naomi groaned loudly, but leaned back. “No…”

“Right, so, there’s these two villages across the river from one another. One has only men, the other only women…”

As Capri launched into her bawdy joke, her tension eased slightly, but she looked ahead of her. On the horizon, storm clouds were gathering, and she felt her guts try to go to liquid. She glanced in the mirror at the sleeping bum on her back seat and tried to reassure herself. It would all work out in the end, right?

Click, click.

Squeezing the handles of his grip strengthener, Eidolon frowned at the television. It was cold in his apartment in Houston, or at least, as cold as it got in Houston. It was in the upper 40s still, not freezing, but not warm. Still, he had on sweats as he sat on his couch, his strengthener clicking as he squeezed it.

“Fucking hell, Keith. What are you doing?” Eidolon growled, shaking his head. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and sighed. After 10pm. He should be in bed already.

He turned the TV off, put his trainer away, and went about his evening toilet. Ten minutes later, he crawled into bed, staring up at the ceiling. With a sigh, he reached over and turned on his bedside fan. It was pointed away from him, but he needed the white noise to sleep.

As the machine whirred softly, he closed his eyes, his head resting on the pillow. Part of him wanted to be over there, helping his friend, fighting those Nazi fucks. Part of him wanted to chew Keith out for breaking ranks, and disrupting their plan. He forced his mind to still, his heart to slow, and drifted off to sleep.

In his dreams, he dreamed of an egg the size of a building. He was trying to keep the egg from hatching, deep fear in his heart of what would happen when it did. Try as he might though, he couldn’t quite manage it, and cracks appeared in the egg. He screamed, and fell down, his powers draining from him.

A worthy foe.

He tried to say no, but the cracks in the shell deepened, and darkness oozed out.

When he awoke in a cold sweat, Eidolon felt drained and weak. He stumbled to the bathroom, relieved himself, and got a glass of water. He collapsed in exhaustion, and was soon asleep again.

Across the world, Venti’s eyes shot open.

“Well then. Looks like I’m needed after all…”

This Goddess Must Be Crazy, Chapter 46

“We have less time than we may think, so I will be brief,” All Might said, looking around at his students, who had once more confirmed that they were as much heroes as anyone else. “If an invasion of our world is to take place, we need to get the information out to heroes globally. There is no reason to think that the enemy will strike Japan alone..”

They were back at UA already in the main auditorium, though it was mostly empty. The first year heroe students were there, along with most of the faculty, and several notable heroes such as Best Jeanist and Endeavor, who was sitting by his son and looking grim. All Might was up on the stage with Nezu, Iris, and Izuku, while the rest of them sat in rows, listening to the dire news.

“That’s because you haven’t read enough Light Novels,” Kazuma said, sounding bored. “It’s always Japan, and it’s definitely going to be Tokyo.”

“I mean, it could be New York too,” Izuku said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.. “Or maybe Los Angeles?”

“Life is not a video game,” Nezu warned, steepling his fingers. “And while we tend to think of Japan as the most important location on the planet by virtue of living here, why not establish a beachhead in a sparsely populated, poorly defended location, and attack from there? We know they have agents here in Japan, but why not in Angola, Nicaragua, or Papua New Guinea?”

“‘Cause Ainz is from Japan, duh.”

All heads in the room swiveled towards Aqua, who smiled guilelessly back. “What? He is.”

“I thought you said the Lord of the Tomb was a lich,” Aizawa growled, leaning towards Aqua and causing her to cringe back slightly. “Why do you say he’s Japanese?”

“Because he was isekai’d. You know, like Kazuma, Subaru, and Tanya. He was just, um, in another Division, so, uh…he was a bit of a big meanie,” Aqua said, giving Aizawa a nervous grin.

“Sometimes, Aqua, I wonder how much information you have rattling around in that head of yours, and how much of it is pure nonsense you make up on the spot,” Aizawa growled, pressing an index finger to her forehead. “Is there any other incredibly important information you’d like to share with us as we try to plan the defense of the entire world?!”

“Ow! Stop it!” Aqua complained, and after a moment, Aizawa relented. “Hmph. Well, Ainz is obviously a smelly undead, so holy magic is super effective. And uh, he’s got lots of vampires and demons and stuff that work for him, and some really gross bugs.”

“We killed the bugs,” Kazuma said with a heavy sigh. “You weren’t there, but I did this flour thing and took ‘em out. Tsukuyomi squashed the rest.”

“Well, there goes fumigation off our preparation checklist,” Endeavor said with a roll of his eyes. “The real question is, how do we counter this with what we have at hand? And would other nations believe it? I certainly wouldn’t, if Shoto hadn’t told me himself.”

“I have spoken to some of the top heroes in other nations that I have connections with and intimated that an attack is imminent,” All Might stated. “It’s also not entirely a new concept: the prospect of someone having a dimension-hopping Quirk has come up before, though it’s been entirely theoretical until now.”

“Who the hell cares? They show up here, we kick their ass like we did before,” Bakugo growled, jerking a thumb at Aqua and Chris. “We got these two for a reason. They clean up all the spooky crap, the rest of us stomp the rest of it. Easy.”

“Don’t be crass, Bakugo,” Iris told him icily. “These monsters have destroyed countless worlds, my own included. If defeating them were so easy, it would have been done by now.”

“Then we need information,” Nezu said with a sigh. He frowned over at All Might. “How is that…effort…working thus far?”

The big man shifted uncomfortably. “I am…not sure. I do not like seeing such methods employed, even against the cruelest of villains.”

“The God Slayer is more than that, and whatever happens to her, she deserves it,” Chris said with a snort. “The one time I actually approve of handing someone over to a demon…”

“Wiz is there, nothing too heinous can happen, right?” Izuku said hesitantly.

“Meh. If it does, she can just bring the bitch back,” Bakugo said with a jerk of his chin towards Aqua.

“I didn’t do it the first time just so you could torture her!” Aqua snapped, going red in the face.

“Then why did you do it?” Endeavor demanded. “Because otherwise, it looks like you were just helping the enemy.”

Aqua looked down, tears in her eyes. “Because…once…we were friends…”

There was silence for a few moments until Bakugo laughed. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing-”

“Bakugo!” Iris said with a stern glare, which quelled him. Then she turned to Aqua. “Goddess, that is perhaps the most asinine thing I have ever heard. Surely you had a better reason, such as gathering intelligence.”

“WHAT?! That’s the exact same thing I was going to say!” Bakugo protested, standing up in outrage.

“No, you were going to be a rude idiot about it. Iris has class,” Kazuma told him with a smirk.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Bakugo muttered.

“Regardless, we should be grateful Aqua did resurrect the God Slayer,” Nezu said with a shake of his head. “And we had best hope that Vanir can extract something useful from here. Otherwise, we go into this near blind.”

The discussion continued with ways to combat the coming of the Tomb, but one thought loomed over all:

What, exactly, would Vanir be able to extract from Tanya, and what horrific means would he use to do so?

“Thank you for choosing McDonalds, my name is Tanya, what can I get for you today?”

“Uh, can I get um…uh…”

Tanya gritted her teeth, and tried very hard not to snap the pen she had in her hand as she listened to the fool in the car that was in her drive through.

“Um…can I get a…Whopper with curly fries?”

“Sir, this a McDonalds. I can get you a Big Mac with french fries,” Tanya said, forcing her voice to remain chipper. “Would you like to make it a meal?”

“Uh, what about a roast beef sandwich with…onion rings?”

“I am afraid this is not an Arby’s, sir. We do not carry those products. We do have the Filet O Fish or a Crispy Chicken sandwich,” Tanya said sweetly, but that eye twitch of hers was back.

“Tanya!” Visha called, popping her sweaty and irritated face into the back. “Some kid pooped in the play area again, I’ve got to shut it down and clean it up again!”

“In the middle of the dinner rush!? Do you have any idea what that will do to our-” Tanya forced herself to stop and take a breath. “Yes, health and safety regulations must be followed. Go and see to it at once.”

“Right, on it,” Visha said with a heavy sigh, and turned to go. She paused, then turned back. “Oh, Demiurge called in sick again, and Shalltear is still out from those burns. So, uh, they want us to work another double shift again…”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Tanya said, her left eye twitching slightly.

“Uh, can I get a 15 piece chicken nuggets?” the moron in the drive through asked. Tanya was not certain how the idiot had ever managed to pass the written portion of the Driver’s License test. She doubted he was literate.

“I can sell you a 10 or 20 piece nuggets sir,” Tanya snarled as Visha left, then forced herself back to calm. “Which would you prefer?”

“I want a 14 piece nugget meal,” the man insisted.

“Fine, of course, you got it,” Tanya said, and punched in the 20 piece meal.

“But that says 20 piece, I can’t eat that much!”

“Oh, that’s an error, sir. I assure you, there will only be 14 nuggets in the box,” Tanya said in her most chipper tones. “What will you be having to drink?”

“I want a Diet Pepsi.”

“Sir, we serve Coca Cola products. I can get you a Diet Coke.”

“No, I want a Pepsi! I don’t like Diet Coke.”

“We do not have Pepsi, sir. We have Coca Cola products.”

“Fine! We’ll take a regular coke. Friggin’ bitch, can’t even do your job right.”

“Yes, sir,” Tanya said, forcing cheeriness into her voice, and imagined strangling this mouthbreather with her bare hands. “One coke.”

“Ah, Ms. Degurachaff,” Ainz, her manager, said, walking by and looking at a clipboard. “We’re out of coke syrup, going to have to order more.”

“Are you kidding me?! PROCUREMENT IS YOUR JOB! Why did you not order sufficient quantities of syrup, AGAIN!? This is the second time this month that we-”

Tanya dreamed of yelling at her manager, of chewing him out, and of quitting this humiliating job and getting a better one. But after having been fired from all her previous employers, this was literally her last option. She could not afford to fail.

“Oh, thank you for letting me know sir!” Tanya said cheerily, then cued her mic. “I’m sorry sir, we’re out of regular coke.”

“YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT, HOW DARE YOU-”

Her shift was long, and exhausting, and there was far from only one drive through moron she had to deal with. And of course, Sebas failed to show for his shift too. As the manager, Ainz SHOULD have been the one to keep the restaurant open, but no, he had to go home at 10pm, which left an exhausted Tanya and Visha alone in this godforsaken place all night.

Again.

They finally crawled home at 6 am the next day when Cocytus actually managed to show up for his shift. Their car had broken down last week, so that meant that they had to take the horribly inefficient American Public Transportation system, and share a bus that smelled of unwashed bodies and urine with a rambling and clearly insane homeless man, and two teenagers who appeared to be performing fellatio in the back. Tanya was too tired to care.

When they stumbled in, Visha tried to turn on the lights, but, of course, it didn’t work. The lightbulb had burned out yesterday, but they hadn’t had the time or the funds to replace it. They sat in the dark, and Visha put the bag of greasy and now cold food on the table.

“It’s your favorite, for breakfast. Cold fries and chicken nuggets, with powerade,” Visha said, exhausted. She rooted around in the bag, setting the now soggy mess in front of Tanya, then rooted around in the bag for a few more seconds. Then she burst into tears.

“It’s fine, the nutrition is adequate,” Tanya said, and didn’t look down at her belly, or Visha’s second chin. They’d both been putting on weight, but they didn’t have a better source of food, and hours in the back of a hot kitchen didn’t leave one much time for exercise.

“I-I forgot the ketchup ,” Visha whimpered. “I can’t do anything right!”

“You’re tired, I’m tired. It is sufficient,” Tanya said, though she did feel a pang of anger at the lack of condiments. “Perhaps there is some in the refrigerator.”

There were, though that was the only thing aside from some moldy bread and rotten milk in there. She gave Visha two packets and took one for herself, and they had their pathetic meal. Then they crawled into bed, which was an old mattress on the floor, and lay there, exhausted, but unable to sleep.

“You know the worst part,” Visha said, her voice ragged and exhausted.

“That we cannot currently afford air conditioning,” Tanya guessed, as the temperature continued to rise. It was not even 8 am, but it would soon top 100F, which irritated her as a voice in her head whispered that it should be 40C. June in Phoenix Arizona was not fit for human habitation.

“That we have to do it again in a few hours, and again, and again, and again,” Visha groaned, covering her face with her hands. “It’s just not worth it…”

Tanya felt her mouth go dry. “It is…better than the alternative.”

“I should just kill myself. Then you wouldn’t have to pay my medical bills at least,” Visha said bitterly.

“No!” Tanya sat up, glaring at Visha. “Do not even consider such things!”

“Why, Tanya!? Why should we keep going through this!? It’s pointless, it’s stupid!” Visha demanded.

“In three months, we will be evaluated, and I am confident we will get the highest marks, and a raise, which would-”

“Oh, great! Then we’ll be paid $7 an hour instead of 6.75! We can go broke slightly less quickly!”

The argument devolved from there, Tanya didn’t even remember most of it. She and Visha ended up sleeping with their backs to one another. It was an exhausted sleep, full of nightmares, and as the temperature rose, she panted, the heat of the day making her feel like she was in hell.

Oh, but you are in hell, dear Miss Degurechaff. Don’t you remember?

Jolting awake, Tanya gasped for breath, then on reflex, tried to struggle against the restraints securing her to the table she was laying on. Her prisoner jumpsuit was stained with sweat as though she were in an Arizona summer, despite the cool, almost cold air pressing against her skin.

She looked around, her eyes slightly wild, only to see the masked demon leering down at her, that damnable grin on his face.

“What was that!? That is not- what you did is against the articles of war!” Tanya babbled.

“Oh?” Vanir gave her a puzzled look, putting one finger to his lips. “Moi has studied your much vaunted articles of war many times. According to international treaty, moi finds no clause about giving a prisoner a dream where she is gainfully employed in a prosperous American city.”

“It was all just so inefficient! I could think of a dozen ways I could have improved that establishment to be more profitable, and secured a raise and better wages for myself! The forms for requisitions alone were needlessly labyrinthian! And that ICE CREAM MACHINE! Damnable thing, I could have easily found a more competent mechanic that could have kept it fixed!” Tanya raged.

“Vanir? What are you doing to her?” a worried female voice called.

“Oh, nothing she doesn’t deserve,” Vanir chuckled, an evil grin back on his face.

“You’re supposed to be asking her questions about Nazerick, what are you doing?” Wiz asked, her voice still slightly muffled as if distant.

“Breaking her,” Vanir purred. He came closer to Tanya, reaching out to stroke her sweaty and tangled hair. “Hmm, that one was not bad enough, oh no. Hmm, moi thinks next time, you shall be employed at a Panda Express, here in Japan…”

“Do your worst, monster, there is nothing that you could do to break me, I-”

“-one that does not follow food and safety regulations.”

“YOU FIEND!” Tanya raged, struggling against her bonds. “You cannot do this to me! What are you doing to Visha!?”

“Oh? You wish to see?” Vanir put a finger to Tanya’s forehead. “See.”

It was cold, and Visha’s breath puffed in the air, her lungs burning, her arms feeling like leaden weights. She desperately hoed at the ground, trying to break up the soil, but it was useless. She slumped on her hoe, feeling no hope. The frost had come early, and the entire crop was going to be lost. She wept bitterly, her tears freezing on her cheeks as she looked at her shriveled turnips and potatoes. Lost. It was all lost.

There was a noise behind her, and she spun. Dread filled her heart, and she dropped the hoe, ran to where the car had just pulled up to the farmhouse, her thin leather shoes slapping on the frozen earth.

“Please, we have nothing left! There is no money, no food!” her father was pleading before the grim faces of the invaders. He was on his knees, begging, blood already crusting his lip and grey beard, his cheek still bleeding from where he had been struck.

“Inexcusable. I have seen the reports of this region's production in past years. You are well below quota,” the officer said coldly, looking down at Visha’s father with a sneer. Well, down her nose. Even with him kneeling, they were of a height.

“Papa! Papa!” Visha wailed, and ran up to her father, wrapping her arms about him and glaring at the damn Germans. “What do you want now?”

“Miss Ivanovna. You and your family and behind on your payments to the Reich,” Colonel Degurachaff said icily, her cold blue eyes even more wintery than the frigid air. “Do not hold out on us. I know you have more.”

“We have nothing! Not even enough to eat ourselves! You took our last goat a week ago, so now we do not even have its milk to drink!” Visha spat, clutching at her father as she trembled. She should have gone with her brother Gregor and joined the partisans.

“No? Search the house,” Colonel Degurachaff said, her tone bored. The SS Troopers did just that, somehow finding things they had not already broken. They returned with a bag of potatoes they’d found in the barn.

“No! Those are our seed potatoes! If you take those-” Visha protested.

“You have a crop in the ground. Use those,” the Colonel sniffed dismissively. “But it is not enough. Take him.”

“What!? No!” Visha wailed as her father was ripped from her. “Please, no, not my father!”

“The camps can always use another worker,” the Nazi bitch said with a shrug. “See to it that you bring in that harvest in a timely fashion. Otherwise…well. Your father will have company soon.”

Someone kicked Visha in the gut, and she was on her hands and knees, retching, unable to speak or do anything as her father was hauled away. She was left alone with a frozen, worthless crop, and an empty hut as she clawed at the dirt.

When Tanya came awake this time, her heart was broken. She felt drained of all energy. That couldn’t have been her, could it? She would never do such things, not to Visha!

Only, it was all so logical…she had orders. Quotas. They had been nothing but Russian peasants, and the Reich and needed-

Tanya turned her head to the side, retching miserably. She spat to clear the bile from her mouth, then turned to glare at Vanir. “I will never break. Do your worst, monster.”

“Ah, but you see, the question is which of you will break first?” Vanir said philosophically. “For only one of you can live.”

“Please. As if I would not die for Visha,” Tanya laughed bitterly, sneering at this fool. “She is the only good thing left in the world.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand,” Vanir leaned in, a wicked grin on his face. “If you break, I will kill you. If she breaks, I will kill her. This is not the first time Moi has interrogated mortals. Moi detests the nauseating emotion of love, but moi does understand how to exploit it. So, moi shall grant the release of death to the one who talks. The other, well. They will be allowed to live, sent to a world of peace and tranquility to live out their days, away from this war. Boring, but, well, you mortals do so enjoy peace, or so you tell yourself.”

Cold sweat broke out all over Tanya’s body. “The Prisoners Dilemma is solved. Visha knows this. So long as she does not break either, we will both live. And since you are simply giving us dreams, what is the worst that can happen?”

“Well, why do we not return to Colonel Degurachaff of the Waffen SS and Viktoria Ivanova to find out?” Vanir purred, stretching his gloved hands forward. “Your shame and regret will be most delicious. Moi can-”

“SACRED EXORCISM!”

A blast of holy light so bright it made spots dance in front of Tanya’s eyes shot out, and Vanir dissolved into dust as Tanya lay there, stunned.

“Wretched goddess! How dare you interfere with my work!? These mortals were given over to moi as sinners, as per the contracts of old! A goddess has no right to-”

“GOD BLOW!”

There was another crumbling sound, then Tanya heard panting. “I have every right! She’s not dead, and if she was, I’d bring her back again! She was, IS my friend, Vanir!”

“MWAHAHAHAHA! Oh, this is too rich, even from the most foolish of goddesses! To call the God Slayer your friend! Should I undo her bonds, that she might-”

“SHUT UP! SACRED EXORCISM!”

Another flash, more spots, and Tanya felt dazed. Aqua? What was she doing here? Why had she brought Tanya back from death already? It made no sense…she had killed gods. Dozens of them. Why would Aqua do such a thing?

Footfalls echoed, and a moment later, Aqua’s distraught face hovered over Tanya. “What did he do to you!? I snuck down as soon as I could, oh, I’m so, so sorry, Tanya! No one should be left to demons! Here, I got the key off his body, so…”

There was no way. Not even Aqua was this stupid. This was a ploy. Another dream from Vanir. There was no way that-

Tanya’s manacles clicked open, and she sat up, massaging her wrists and looking around. Aqua was peering at her anxiously, a key in her hands. “You’re OK, right?”

“Give me one reason I should not either slay you or take you hostage,” Tanya said coldly.

“Because we’re buddies! Now come on, we have to get Visha! Wis was looking after her, so she’s probably OK, but that stupid demon was in charge so who knows,” Aqua ordered, and led Tanya to the open door of the cell.

Baffled, and still not certain she shouldn’t just kill Aqua and be done with it, Tanya followed after her. It was a short walk down a hall to another room, where they found Visha in torn and bloodied clothes, Wiz tied up in the corner, and half a dozen little demons biting Visha or whipping her with briars.

“YOU STUPID DEMON! SACRED EXORCISM, SACRED- Oh no. AHHHH!” Aqua wailed, as her spell spectacularly failed to do anything. The little dolls all giggled and leapt at Tanya.

“Prisoner escaped! Eliminate!” they chanted in eerie voices.

Swearing, Tanya tried to dodge, to get to Visha, even as the dolls began to glow, but one grabbed onto her legs. If they exploded, she might-

Aqua grabbed all the dolls up, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. A moment later, there was a loud thump, and the door shuddered, a dent appearing in its sturdy metal surface.

Ignoring that, Tanya ran over to Wiz, who was gagged and crying, and ripped the key from around her neck. She ran over and unlocked Visha’s manacles, then helped her lover to her knees as she gasped for breath.

“How…how did you?” Visha whispered, one eye swollen shut, the other bloodshot as she stared at Tanya.

“Aqua,” Tanya said tightly. “Now come on, we have to get you-”

The door banged open, and Aqua, black faced and with scorched clothes stood there swaying. Her hair was slightly burned, and she looked like a horrible mess.

“Not so tough,” Aqua slurred as Tanya dropped Visha and fell into a fighting stance. “Stupid demon. Can’t beat me. I’m a goddess…”

“Do not come closer,” Tanya spat. “I may be unarmed, but I still-”

“Huh? I have to come close, how could I heal Visha otherwise?” Aqua asked, and then did just that, kneeling by Visha. “Heal!”

The only reason Tanya did not attack was because she couldn’t understand. She understood the words, she witnessed the actions, but she couldn’t understand why this blue being was helping.

Gasping, Visha shuddered, even as her wounds vanished. She gave Tanya a wide eyed look. “B-but, how? I…I am undead, how could you-”

“Oh, I fixed that. You’re a normal human now! Don’t worry, if Ainz was mind controlling you or something, you’re free! So we can tell Kazuma and Izuku, and we can all be friends again!” Aqua said hopefully, smiling timidly.

Visha and Tanya shared shocked looks.

“Ainz…Alucard, they said,” Tanya began, her mind racing.

“Aqua, we…we are enemies,” Visha said, her tone almost gently. “You cannot just-”

“Nu-uh! You’re not a stupid undead anymore! I fixed you! So we can be friends!” Aqua sniffled, her eyes full of tears. “And I won’t let Vanir torture you any more! It’s OK to beat up bad guys, and even kill them if you have to, but you’re not bad guys, right? You were mind controlled, turned into undead, you had to obey- WIZ!”

Aqua ran over and ripped the gag off the lich, who groaned softly. “Oh Wiz, I’m so sorry, see, this is why you can’t trust Vanir, he’s a jerk!”

“A-Aqua, the godslayer, you have to run!” Wiz panted. “You’re the one Nazarick wants! It’s you they’ve been after all these years!”

“Yeah, so? Tanya wouldn’t hurt me. Right, Tanya?” Aqua said, turning back around.

Logically, Tanya should eliminate or, at the very least, capture the blue goddess. Innocence was simply ignorance in a different guise, and Tanya despised something so useless, but… the way Aqua stared with so much trust, her actions beforehand.

If there was such a thing as a Goddess of Innocence, then Aqua would be such a being. By all rights, Tanya should act,but she found herself frozen, unable to think of what to do. “I…”

“Major?” Visha said softly. Tanya met her eyes, and her heart sank. “I think…I think we have made a mistake…”

Tanya opened her mouth to protest, but then, memories of being Colonel Degurachaff flooded into her. Memories of killing innocents on countless worlds. She’d justified it all, but…

“Lieutenant…Visha…what do you wish to do?” Tanya rasped, her throat bone dry. Visha was her second-in-command, her trusted partner. In lieu of her own action, then perhaps a second opinion from her second could help here.

Visha stood up slowly, going over to help Aqua undo Wiz’s bonds. “Yes, Aqua. We are your friends. Let’s…let’s talk. Do you think… could you help Ainz?”

“Well, he is a stupid undead, and he’s really evil,” Aqua said uncertainly. Wiz winced, and Aqua hastily added, “B-but we were friends, um, kinda. M-maybe?”

“You… are not what I remember. Or expected,” Tanya said, putting one hand to her head. “You are an utter fool, yes, but…”

“Well, you don’t see me calling you dumb,” Aqua grumbled.

“I suppose not,” Tanya said, then remembered times when Aqua had done just that. Something was wrong. Memories were coming back. Memories she hadn’t known she’d had. Memories of a time spent with Aqua in another world. Another time.

“Major, did you…have dreams?” Visha asked, her tone soft. “I…I dreamed of…”

“It wasn’t real,” Tanya snapped instantly. Then she grimaced. “Though what is real and what is not…I am not sure anymore.”

“Well, Ainz is coming! And, well, I sort of want to help him, but he can’t be allowed to kill any more people! You’ll help us, right?!” Aqua begged desperately.

“Of course,” Visha said gently, smiling at Aqua. “We…we are friends.” She gave Tanya a pleading look.

Something broke inside of Tanya, and she straightened. “Is that what the rules of this world would dictate? That we should cooperate, in exchange for amnesty?”

“I mean, I cured your amnesty, I don’t know why you’d want it back,” Aqua said in confusion.

Tanya and Visha gave her a blank look, while Wiz sighed heavily.

“You’re thinking of amnesia, Aqua. Not amnesty.” Then the ice witch turned a cold gaze on Tanya, one that made even her cankered soul shiver. “You have done much evil, Godslayer. There are few I would give over to a demon to torture, but you have earned such a punishment thoroughly.”

“I…yes,” Tanya admitted, feeling sick. “But, my information could save you all. Is that not worth something?”

“Yeah Wiz, come on! If they help, they’re good guys again!” Aqua turned to Tanya. “Please, if you help, I’ll talk to All Might and all the others! But you have to hurry! Ainz could come at any time!”

Slowly, Tanya nodded. “Very well. I will tell you what I can.”

The memories that were filtering back in told Tanya that Aqua could be trusted. She was selfish, stupid, and vain, but she also had a heart of gold, and would do anything to help those she cared about. The gods were still cruel and capricious, but if there was one god who didn’t need killing…well.

Perhaps it was time for retirement.

In the control room, Vanir chuckled and held out his hand. Nezu laughed and passed him a 10,000 yen note.

“Best money I have ever lost. You were right. I’m surprised though, Vanir. I wouldn’t have thought a demon would bet on a goddess.”

“That one is most infuriating, but moi has learned one thing.” Vanir grilled, pocketing the money. “If one wishes to foil the plans of a fool…send in a bigger one.”

“Hmm, perhaps, but that is not how I would have put it,” Nezu said, picking up his steaming cup of tea and sipping at it. On the monitors, they watched as Tanya and Visha began to confess their sins to both Aqua and Wiz.

“Oh? And how wouldst thou have put it?” Vanir asked. Then he frowned. “No, do not tell moi. Pah. Thou art far more soft hearted than moi would have thought.”

“It’s simple, really. You really do catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Nezu chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I might be a bit of an evil mastermind myself, but I understand that.”

“Hmph. Moi refuses to acknowledge that this round has gone to Aqua. After all, moi was the one to engineer this situation with thy help,” Vanir laughed, heading for the door.

“Ta ta, I’ll be taking notes. Do let All Might and the others know for me,” Nezu said, then settled in, a smile on his face.

The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 18

Beta'd and edited by the Grand Cogitator, Dr_Feelgood, Philosophysics, and October Daye. 

Carmen Dei 18: Song of Storms

The Feisty Ferret was jam-packed once more, and Leon bustled about, smiling and serving drinks to the happy couples, most of them gay men, but with a fair number of ladies as well. There were even a few straights here, once a rare occurrence, now actually not uncommon. Leon had been suspicious at first, but apparently, the Feisty Ferret had a reputation as the “home of Barbatos,” and to Leon’s mild surprise that was a religion that was gaining in popularity.

Gunter stood at the door, though there wasn’t much bouncing involved these days. Instead, he was talking to a young man who was serving in the Bundeswehr, swapping old war stories. Shaking his head fondly, Leon smiled and went back to work, serving drinks and telling old stories of his own. He had a lot more energy these days, fueled by his Electro Vision, and it didn’t hurt that he could charge his phone on the fly now too.

The night was flying by, with everyone enjoying life and chatting. A typical Wednesday night at the Feisty Ferret.

Until the south wall exploded.

One moment, Leon was laughing and serving up drinks, the next, a flash of light and sound that left him breathless and bleeding on the floor, his ears ringing, glasses broken, and a drink cabinet rushing him, broken glass piercing his flesh. Dust and smoke filled the air, and he couldn’t really see for a few moments.

Then the lightning roared, and Leon surged up, his body crackling with power as his wounds knitted shut. He whirled about, desperate to help, only to see Gunter pinned to the floor by half a dozen blades, blood pooling around him.

“NO!” Leon screamed, his eyes going blurry with tears as he ran forward, only for another blade to come flashing out of the smoke, slamming into Leon’s leg. He spun about, going down hard, the pain washing over him. He tried to pull more electro in to heal, but he was already near his limit, and the power had gone out, leaving his ambient sources scarce.

He could hear coughing, moans of pain, and sobs for help, but all ceased making sense to Leon. Boots stomped into his view, and his eyes trailed up, before his lips peeled back in a snarl. “You!”

Walter von Solf, the Crimson Lotus, and head of the Gesellschaft, looked down on Leon with a sneer. He bent over, and Leon tried to fight back, but he was too weak, too injured to manage much. With a wrench, Walter seized Leon’s Vision, ripping it off of the pendant Leon had ordered and causing him to cry out in pain. His vision blurred and faded, his head falling back to the ground as his abilities faded from him.

“Take him and any survivors. We will need hostages,” Walter ordered. “Then burn this abomination to the ground.”

The boots stomped away, and Leon felt tears run down his face as rough hands seized him and bore him up.

Venti…Barbatos…where are you? We need you…

Far away, in Amsterdam, Venti opened his eyes, a snarl of rage on his face. Outside, the wind began to blow, and the building rattled as the lights flickered. Capri missed a note, and Naomi’s drums fell silent as the crowd went from excited and cheering to suddenly quiet and nervous.

“I’m very sorry,” Venti said quietly, turning towards the door. “We’re not going to be finishing the set.”

“Venti?” Capri asked, her tone suddenly fearful. “What has-”

“Barbatos,” Venti responded as he strode forward. “The time of judgment is at hand.”

Naomi and Capri exchanged horrified looks, and Capri hastily babbled something to the crowd, but Venti wasn’t listening. Winds ripped open the fire door, and the alarms Venti knew would sound began to wail as he spread his wings and stepped out into the growing storm. He lifted up into the air, staring to the southeast, listening to what the winds were bringing him.

“I’m sorry, Leon, Gunter. I didn’t hear this one coming. I should have been paying better attention. They’d gone quiet, I had hoped…” Venti breathed out a long sigh, his face still set in a frown.

“This is still a matter for mortals to settle,” he sighed, shaking his head, forcing himself to calm, for the winds whipping about him to quiet. He still floated high above the city, looking down below him, lost in thought for a few moments.

“I will not become a tyrant,” he said finally, looking up towards the distant tragedy. “That is anathema to what I am.”

He lowered down to the street, where he found a panicked Capri and Naomi hastily loading the van.

“Venti, Barbatos, what’s happened?!” Naomi cried, running towards him, her face pale and drawn.

“I’m afraid…” Venti swallowed and forced himself to continue. “The Feisty Ferret has been attacked. Gunter is dead, along with a lot of other people. Leon is hurt badly, but he’s alive, for now.”

“What?! How?! Who-” Naomi cut herself off, and her own expression grew furious, a small windstorm whipping about her as her hands clenched into fists. “The Gesellschaft.”

“What?! What did those fuckers do- nevermind, tell me later, are we taking the van?!” Capri demanded, springing over, electro arcing over her body as she looked from Naomi to Venti.

“Yes,” Venti said, striding towards the van. “The Gesellschaft seems to have set a trap for me. They wish to draw me out.”

“What!? Are you serious!? Oh fuck, where?!” Capri gasped, jumping into the driver's seat as Naomi scrambled into the back.

Venti took his own seat, leaning back, forcing himself to take a calming breath. “Munich.”

“Are… are you going to let them?” Naomi asked, her tone worried.

Venti smiled, and there was no warmth or humor in the expression. “Oh yes. They have sown the wind. Now, they shall reap the whirlwind.”

The van started, and Venti nodded to Naomi. “Call the Knights. All of them. We fly to war.”

As Naomi began to make the heartbreaking calls and Capri slammed on the gas, Venti leaned forward, the grim smile still on his face. He was no tyrant. He would not call judgment from the heavens like the cruel whims of Celestia.

So it was a good thing he’s so carefully assembled a force of mortals to check this threat.

Onward, soldiers of freedom.

The sun's rays stretched over the desert sands, the shadows of the scrub brush standing out starkly. The sands and sparse plants were flecked with frost, the air itself chill, though that wouldn’t last long into the daylight. Out here in White Sands, New Mexico the late November nights were frigid, and the breath of the observers misted before them as they looked out from blast slits in their bunkers.

A siren began to wail, and those still present on the surface hastened for cover. This was the US Army’s largest munitions testing range, though this day, it wouldn’t be missiles or artillery shells raining down.

Instead, it was something far more destructive.

A long man hovered high over the sands, high up in the pale blue sky, only a few narrow wisps of cloud overhead as the sun painted the white sands orange and red. The siren finally trailed off, and the man pointed his hands downward.

Great beams of green-white light flashed from his hands, striking the desert floor and flashing great sheets of the sands to glass. The assault kept up for several minutes, with a variety of beams carving trenches and blasting craters into the marred earth. Some were wider than a man, others no bigger than the circumference of a finger. The sheer amount of firepower that Legend produced on his own was greater than an entire battalion of howitzers, or a missile battery unleashing its full might. It was awe inspiring in its sheer destructive majesty.

And deeply concerning to Alexandria as she watched from the sidelines, binoculars pressed to her eyes as she observed.

“They’re still the wrong color,” she muttered, and Doctor Mother grunted her agreement from beside her, though the Doctor was hunkered down in a trench, while Alexandria was watching, headless of the potential for shrapnel or debris to hit her. A direct shot from Legend could hurt her, or, well, it used to be able to do so, but a bit of superheated sand would at worst ruin her jacket.

“Yield’s off,” Doctor Mother said with a shake of her head, scrawling something in a notepad. “Not a horrible amount, but our readings are indicating his power output has decreased by between 8-10%. That’s not good.”

After exactly 15 minutes of continuous output, Legend began to flag. After another 10 minutes, he dropped down, then flew back over to where Alexandria was waiting. He landed at the edge of the trench, breathing hard, his face and bodysuit slick with sweat despite the now barely above freezing temperatures.

“Well? How was it?” he asked, grinning.

“How do you feel?” Doctor Mother asked, standing up and clicking her pen, eyes on her notepad.

“Honestly? Fantastic!” Legend grinned and stood up, flexing his muscles. “I haven’t felt this good in ages! Bit worn out, but I slept well last night, ate a big breakfast… give me a few minutes to rest, and I can get back out there and do it again.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Doctor Mother declared, shaking her head and turning away. “We’ll debrief later.”

Legend frowned after her, then turned to Alexandria, a boyish grin on his face. “Well, if that’s all, I know a good dinner in Albuquerque. Race you there?”

“Sure,” Alexandria agreed, and started her stopwatch. She pushed it as hard as she could, knowing that normally, Legend could accelerate faster than her, and in the long term, outpace her as well.

This time, Legend was lagging behind, unable to keep up from the word go. A shimmering barrier of energy formed around him, a sort of wedge shape that cut through the air and protected Legend as they flew.

They landed only bare minutes later, Legend having changed in flight to a casual pair of sweatpants and sweater, Alexandria pulling on a hoodie and glasses that operated on the Clark Kent Principle. You didn’t look for Alexandria or Director Costa Brown with messy hair in a rumpled old hoodie and cheap glasses, especially not if she was slouching slightly in her seat.

They sat down for the traditional big American Breakfast, which surprised Alexandria slightly. Keith wasn’t David, always worrying about appropriate nutritional intake and grinding every moment of the day, but he was health conscious and tried to eat right along with his partner. Now, he was ordering pancakes, bacon, and eggs, putting real cream into his coffee, and enjoying it with gusto. There was none of the usual stiffness or weariness that her friend usually carried with him.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Keith joked, taking a napkin to dab at his chin with a grin.

Slowly, Alexandria shook her head. “No, it’s just… you’re not normally this cheery. But ever since you got back from Germany…”

“I know,” Keith said, setting down his knife and fork. He frowned, looking at the palms of his hands. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s like a lot of the stress in my life just… evaporated. Like there was this monkey on my back, always driving me forward, never letting me rest. But ever since I met Barbatos… it’s been washed away, Becky! It’s incredible!”

“You sound like someone who just found religion,” Alexandria said, setting down her own utensils and eyeing Keith uncertainly. An alarm bell was going off in her head, one she couldn’t quite silence, and she didn’t know why.

“I don’t know, maybe I did? I’m not certain,” Keith said, shaking his head and setting his hands down. He met Alexandria’s eyes. “What I do know is this: I’ve not felt this happy in a decade. Hell, even Arthur’s commented that I’m more relaxed at home.”

“Keith, we haven’t crunched all the numbers yet, but… your output has gone down, and by a significant margin,” Alexandria said quietly. “You’re slower too. You used to always beat me in a race, but you barely kept up on the way here.”

He only shrugged, picking up his knife and fork again. “It’s much easier to control though. I don’t have to fight my powers. It feels more… natural. Like it’s become a part of me now. Maybe I’m just getting old, too. Perhaps powers just weaken with age.”

“That’s exactly the opposite of what our research indicates, and you know it,” Alexandria said with a shake of her head. “Keith… I’m worried about you.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “You’re worried that I’m happy, Becky? And before you ask, I would gladly trade a bit of power for what I’ve gained in the past couple of weeks.”

“And what if that bit of power was the difference between saving the world, and our extinction?” Alexandria asked quietly.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that as much as we used to. We’re not alone any more,” Keith said with a shrug.

That earned him a scowl from Alexandria, though she quickly schooled her face to neutrality. Was Keith the victim of some sort of Master based powers? What had Venti done, exactly? From what Keith had reported, and from their current activities, something incredibly drastic had been done to Night and Fog, to the point that their powers were virtually unrecognizable and they were entirely different people. It could be a total alteration of personality, but then again…

Keith’s phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket, frowning at it. “That’s weird. What time even is it in Germany? Mid afternoon or something, right?”

“Who is it?” Alexandria asked, sitting up straight.

“Cookie,” Keith said, then put the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up, Cookie? I-”

Keith’s face went pale and drawn, and he slowly sat up, his eyes darting back and forth. “Oh God. No, I hadn’t heard, when… last night? Oh my God. Oh, Cookie, I’m so sorry, I- what? He’s doing what?!”

“Keith?” Alexandria asked, the alarms in her head now screaming at her that something was very wrong.

“I’ll be there. I’ll see if I can get some of my team members to come, but I’ll be there, I promise,” Keith swore. “You tell Venti… well. You tell him I think I’m starting to understand what Freedom is. And what it means to fight for it. Right. No more than an hour.” Then Keith hung up the phone, setting it down on the table and looking sick.

“Well?” Alexandria asked, knowing she wasn’t going to like the news.

“The Gesellschaft just attacked two of Venti’s friends. Vision Holders. They ran a gay bar, and… well. The nazi fucks hit the bar on a busy Friday night. Gunter’s dead, along with a lot of other people. Leon and several others were kidnapped: they hit multiple known Knights at the same time. They have over a dozen hostages, some Knights, some civilians,” Keith explained, his tone grim.

“That’s awful, but, Keith, it’s not-”

“It IS my business!” Keith snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. “Dammit, Becky, are we heroes, or are we just pretending!?”

“Will you let me finish? The Protectorate cannot become involved in international affairs. That’s not the plan, not how we work, you know that! We intervene only when invited, and unless the Meisters, the official cape branch of the German government ask for our assistance-”

“I just got a call from the Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius. She’s asking for help, and I’m going to give it,” Legend said, standing up. “And as your friend, I’m asking for your help too, Alex. The others as well.”

She stood as well. “And as the Director, I’m telling you, stand down. The international situation with capes is delicate, and we-”

“I went to the Feisty Ferret,” Keith said quietly, but his tone was filled with enough conviction that Alexandria trailed off. “I liked Leon and Gunter. I’d call them friends. The Gesellschaft are evil, Director. And I became a hero to fight evil. That’s enough for me.”

“Keith! You can’t just-” Alexandria said, extending her arm as he pulled out his wallet, tossing some cash onto the table.

“I’m taking a sabbatical. I might be out of the office for a week or two,” Legend stated, turning and striding towards the door.

Alexandria was there before he was, barring his way. “Keith! You’re not acting rationally, you need to stop and assess the situation! Venti is dangerous, and we don’t fully understand the-”

“Rebecca. I’m only going to ask once. I’ll tolerate you not helping in this situation. I understand your reasoning. I get it. But I will not tolerate you standing in the way of what’s right. Now are you going to stand aside, or are we going to have a problem?” Legend asked quietly.

Something screamed at Alexandria to fight. To assert her dominance, to demand that Legend either submit to her authority, or have it out with him right here, right now. Anger and adrenaline surged through her, and she could feel her body gearing up for conflict.

But Keith just… stood there. Serene. Trusting. As if he knew she would do the right thing. She thought back to when she’d put the Kill Order out on Raiden, when she’d distrusted a change so much she was blind to the potential it held.

She stepped aside, and ignored that voice. “Kick some Nazi ass for me. I’ll see if I can expedite the process to get more boots on the ground.”

Keith nodded, giving her a small smile, and put a hand on her shoulder as he brushed past her out the door. Then he rocketed off into the air, turning towards the East.

Alexandria watched him go, and felt a pang. Part of her wanted to go with him. Part of her still wanted to put her boot on his throat. And part of her… part of her was deeply frightened of what this meant for the future. Both for the world, the Protectorate, and her friend.

It was coming on to late evening, and the Dandelion’s Breeze was abuzz with activity, despite nominally being closed for the evening. Guards had been posted around the perimeter, and they were universally rather intimidating parahumans. No one was being allowed in unless they were able to give the password, which had been whispered into their ears upon the wind.

Within, dozens of people waited, nearly all of them in cape costumes, and all of them girded for battle. Some of the figures were easily recognizable, from Hospitalar in his full armor, his helmet resting on his knee, face exposed to the world, to Capri and Rächerin talking, both women armed with massive swords and stern expressions on their faces.

The owner, Franz, bustled about, serving up drinks and food to the assembled knights, his wait staff hurrying about themselves, dressed in tabards with the symbol of Barbatos on it. People were still trickling in, though nearly all the key players had already assembled.

High up in the oak tree, amidst the branches, the mournful tones of a lyre played, as Venti looked down on the assembled Knights of Favonius. Naomi sat beneath the tree, a cup in her hands, looking about nervously. This wasn’t like what they’d done before. They’d had confrontations with the Gesellschaft, there had even been what might be called battles, but nothing like this. Ever since Bremen two weeks ago, the Gesellschaft had been quiet, and she had been hoping they’d been dealt a lethal blow there.

Clearly, she had been wrong. And now, people were dead because of it.

There was a sudden flash, and a purple eye formed in the rear corner of the Dandelion's Breeze’s grounds. A moment later, a horizontal slash formed in the air, and then a doorway opened, revealing an endless storm. A woman dressed in black robes with a red tengu mask stepped forward on silent slippers, a bow on her back, and a short sword at her side.

Standing, Naomi hastened over as the portal winked shut, Itul turning and running over as well. Venti beat them both there, floating down from the tree.

Only, it wasn’t Venti. The being hovering in the air a foot off the ground on luminous green wings had a terrible, glowing face, and green eyes that swirled with inner maelstroms.

This was Barbatos. And he was not veiling himself this day. Just looking at him filled Naomi with a sense of awe.

It seemed to be one that Sara shared, and the ninja knelt before the Lord of Anemo.

“The Raiden Shogun sends her greetings, Archon. She will not trespass upon your lands, but she sends this humble servant as a gesture of support and good will,” Sara said, one fist planted on the ground, her head lowered in respect.

Rise, Tengu. Your bow is welcome here. Go now to your friends, and give them what comfort you can. I have told Beelzebul I am grateful for her aid.

The voice that spoke didn’t echo in Naomi’s ears. It resounded in her mind, and within her soul. They were not words, so much as notes plucked upon the strings of her very being.

“Thank you, Lord Barbatos. If you require additional blades, this one is authorized to send for them,” Sara said, standing, but not meeting the eyes of the being above her. They were too terrible for a mortal to do so for long.

They are not needed. This is a matter for the Knights of these lands, not the Shuumatsuban. As the friend and lover of one of my knights, your involvement is allowed.

“Understood. I will await your commands,” Sara agreed, rising to her feet, even as Barbatos flew back up to perch up in the oaktree again. She turned around, only to let out a gasp as Itul wrapped her in a big bear hug.

“It’s OK,” he said stoically. “We’ll get those bastards.”

“Yes,” Sara managed, her voice slightly muffled. She managed to look up, and reached out a black gloved hand to wipe the tears that were trickling down Itul’s cheeks. “But I think it is you who need comforting, not I.”

“Yeah, I, it’s just…” Itul broke down weeping, and Sara wrapped her arms around the big brute, stroking his cheek. “They were just such good dudes! Why wasn’t I there?! I know it was FNM, but, but, I should have been there! I could have helped…”

Cookie was there a few moments later, rubbing Itul’s back in commiseration. When he finally calmed down, she gave Sara a hug, even pulling down her ninja mask. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to us.”

“I am glad to do so at your summons, Grandmaster,” Sara said seriously, giving Cookie a formal bow when they separated.

“Will you people stop doing that!? Just because I organized this meet up when Naomi called me doesn’t make me a Grandmaster!” Cookie snapped.

“It is the traditional name for the head of a Knightly order,” Hospitallar pointed out from the table he was sitting at. “It fits you. Grandmaster Cookie Shinobi.”

At the words, Cookie blushed and hastily put her mask back on, glancing at Sara sideways. “Uh, sorry, I just, you know, I’m a bit of a weeb, so…”

“I understand completely. It is a fitting name for you. I too am an otaku, and it is no longer the mark of shame it was before her Excellency arrived,” Sara declared proudly. Then she blushed and looked to the ground. “Um, mostly. My parents… well, never mind. What task is at hand?”

“We’re waiting on him, I guess,” Cookie said, nodding up to the tree. “Basically everyone is here, except for one guy I’m not sure will show, but, well, come on. Have a drink and some food. You’ll need it.”

Naomi watched the other go, then called upon the winds as Venti had taught her. Ignoring the looks some of the others were giving her, she rose up on the wind, catching a hold of the branches, and then pulling herself up, until she was sitting just below Barbatos. She sat for a few moments, listening to him play. It was a song to make the soul weep, and she did shed a few tears.

Still, after she collected herself, she blew her nose into a tissue, then looked up, managing to meet those terrible eyes that looked solemnly down at her. “How are you holding up?”

It is not the first time I have lost friends, nor the first time my own laxity has led to tragedy. Still. I mourn their loss, and will carry it with me.

The voice was one of melancholy, but not of despair.

“Why didn’t you, you know… see it coming? Stop it?” Naomi asked, voicing a question she had been struggling with all day.

I’m not omniscient, Naomi. Nor am I omnipresent, though I can do a reasonable facsimile if I concentrate. And, well… my Aspect is Freedom. Mortals must be free to act as they choose. I… had held out hope that a few more would repent and turn aside from their path of destruction.

“So… you were trying to show them mercy?” Naomi asked, feeling a surge of anger that she tried to tamp down.

I was. And I erred in doing so. But know this, Naomi: I will always err on the side of Freedom. I am loath to act and deny humanity its autonomy.

“But… you’re going to act now?” Naomi asked cautiously.

Barbatos gave her a sad smile, not quite answering, simply continuing to play. Not quite a dirge, but… still mournful. Naomi sat in the tree for a few more minutes, then looked up at him again. “Well? What are we waiting for?”

Barbatos cocked his head to one side, then turned and looked to the west. Naomi did as well, and for a few seconds, saw nothing. Then a great light, moving against the fading light on the horizon, came into view. It moved impossibly quickly, and after only a minute or so, Naomi could tell what it was.

“Legend,” she gasped. She looked up at Venti, her eyes wide. “Legend is coming!? The Americans sent the Elite of the Protectorate?!”

Barbatos only gave her a knowing smile, then his lyre vanished in a gust of wind, and he stood up, flapping his wings. He extended a hand to Naomi, and she took it, even as Barbatos flapped his wings and they went soaring up into the evening sky.

Below them in the city, the street lights were already coming on, and above them, the stars were coming out. Venti gazed up at the growing dark, a wistful smile on his face.

It’s different, being able to look up and see real stars. I wonder, why has this Sustainer made his ceiling invisible? Is it to make his trap all the more cunning? Blind arrogance? Or simply that he does not care.

Before Naomi could even begin to try to fathom what that meant, Legend arrived in a blaze of light and power. Initially, he was slightly above Barbatos, but he quickly lowered himself down so that he was on the same level as Naomi, who was floating a good half meter below his wing.

“Sorry it took so long, I’m slower than I used to be, and I tried to get a few others to come,” Legend said, panting slightly, and wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. “I’m afraid it’s just me though. Orders from the top were that I’m not officially here, but, well, screw them. I’m here. What’s happening here is wrong, and well…”

You wish to pay penance?

Legend lowered his gaze, looking pained and contrite. “I… yes. How much do you know?”

Enough. So, you are not here as an agent of Cauldron?

Legend looked up, shocked, but winced and couldn’t hold Barbatos’ gaze. “I… no. I had time to do some soul searching on my flight over. I made oaths that I will keep, but… you’re offering another path, aren’t you?”

I gave you freedom, Keith. Freedom to choose, without the weight of the poison you put in your body. I understand why you picked up that burden, but it’s the kind that will crush a mortal soul. The nature of your powers does not an allogene make.

“Allogene?” Naomi asked, and immediately regretted it.

“I’m not sure what that means, but I choose to stand with you,” Legend said, his hand forming into a fist. He pressed it to his chest in salute, and bowed slightly. “I don’t fully understand what you are, but I do know that whatever you have planned, I’m in. Don’t tell me anything you don’t want my… colleagues…to know. But I’ll follow you, even if I have to do it blind.”

So trusting, and in so little time. What made you change your mind? Barbatos asked, a faint, sad smile on his lips.

“Call it my gut, call it faith, call it whatever you want. I just know that before you came, hope was in scarce supply. And yet… though in some ways little has changed, my heart is yet full,” Keith said, his voice breaking slightly. “So please. Let me help.”

Such is not for me to decide. You will find my burden easy, and my yoke light.

With that, Naomi found herself drifting towards the ground below, and Legend dove after them. Everyone else had clearly seen the arrival of one of the most famous capes in the entire world, and were on their feet, gathered around, watching as Barbatos hovered over them.

When Naomi’s feet hit the ground, she hurried over to stand by Capri, who put her arm around her and gave a squeeze. Naomi looked up, and could feel the tension and anticipation.

My children. I am so proud of you, Barbatos began at last. You have taken a stand for Freedom, and for what is good and right. A dangerous stance to take in any time and land, but especially so in this one. And as we have seen this past day, a stance that has a price. A steep one.

There were nods and a few stifled sobs, but no one spoke, and Barbatos continued. What happens next is in your hands. I have called you together, but I will not lead you.

“What!?”

“Why!?”

“But, you’re Lord Barbatos!”

I am. But you do not yet fully understand what I am. Barbatos spread his wings, and a wind passed through and over them, cutting to the quick and making Naomi shiver.

I AM THE ANEMO ARCHON. I AM FREEDOM. I AM BARBATOS, THE WIND THAT WATCHES OVER THESE LANDS. BUT I AM NOT A TYRANT. MINE IS TO GUIDE AND EMPOWER, NOT TO DOMINATE OR DICTATE. AND SO, WHILE I WILL EXTOLL YOU TO STAMP OUT THE EVIL THAT INFECTS THIS LAND, I CAN NOT DO SO MYSELF.

The voice rang in Naomi’s mind, on the verge of pain. She winced slightly, and saw many others do the same. When Barbatos was finished, however, Cookie jumped up on a table, and pointed her sword at Barbatos. “Oh don’t give me that, you’re just a lazy bard who wants to shirk his responsibilities, and pawn them off on us!”

There were a few horrified mutters, and Naomi heard Dorothy shout, “Blasphemy!”

You know me too well, Cookie. Barbatos said, and a warm chuckle was audible. Your knights have assembled, Grandmaster. Now lead them.

With that, Barbatos vanished. In his place, a silly bard in a green tunic and cap floated down to the ground, where he sat on the end of the table Cookie was standing on, batting his eyes at Cookie.

“I, er, well… you’re not getting out of this, Venti! Right, Capri!?” Cookie demanded.

“I’m kicking his ass out of my van if he doesn’t at least show up to the fight,” Capri growled in what Naomi knew were mock menacing tones.

She had to fight back a giggle, but she nodded seriously as well. “That’s right. So don’t go thinking you can shirk on this one, mister!”

“Oh darn, well, I suppose Venti the Bard will have to come after all,” he laughed, but then he turned serious. “Understand though, I will just be Venti the Bard. Not Lord Barbatos. This is important enough that I will take direct action, but nothing more than what a mortal would manage. Well, I might cheat just a little, but only a little, mind.”

“Yeah well, there’s no such thing as cheating now.” Cookie looked around, her face grim. “Look, I don’t have a lot of experience at this. The one big fight I was in, I got my ass handed to me. You sure you want me leading this? I mean, I can think of at least one guy here who’s more qualified.”

“Well, if you insist,” Itul said, swaggering forward. “Now, the Red Oni has a pretty keen mind, and what I think we need to do-”

“NOT YOU, DUMBASS!” Cookie shouted, picking up an empty mug and beaning Itul right in the head with it. “I meant HIM!”

She pointed to Legend, who had been standing quietly just outside the circle of Knights. The American hero held up his hands. “Oh no. This isn’t my operation. This is yours. I’ll follow your lead, and I’ll do my utmost to help, but I’ll accept responsibility of nothing more than a small squad. This isn’t a Protectorate operation, or team. This is yours. I’m here as an ally, not as a leader.”

“Right. Thanks. Fan-fucking-tastic,” Cookie muttered. “Not like you have more than a decade of leadership experience or anything.” She looked around the crowd, her expression half hopeful, half defiant. “Well? Anyone else think they can do a better job?”

No one spoke up, though Vorreiter did cheer and give Cookie two big thumbs up.

“Buncha morons, I tell you. RIGHT! Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Cookie growled. “We’ll be splitting into teams, and traveling to Munich. We’re gonna find the hostages, rescue them, and kill or capture every goddamn Nazi we find. After this, there won’t BE a Gesellschaft, understand?”

There were grim nods all around, and Cookie sighed, then hopped down. She snapped her fingers. “MAPS! WE NEED MAPS! And not your phones! Get me something I can draw on!”

There was a bust of activity, and the Knights buckled down to task at plan. Naomi felt a mixture of anxiety, excitement, and hope, as butterflies raged in her stomach.

“Hey. We’ll get through this,” Capri said, squeezing Naomi’s shoulder. “Together.”

“Yes,” she agreed, resting her hand atop Capri’s. “Together.”

The maps were assembled, the plan developed.

At dawn, they went to war.

Party Swapping with Rin, Part 1

Sitting at the bar in the Adventurer's guild, Kazuma raised his glass high. “Cheers, to another successful quest!”

“CHEERS!”

Three tankards clattered against Kazuma’s and he smiled, taking a sip of beer as his party members all laughed. “Another successful quest!”

“Those ogres never knew what hit them!” Aqua agreed happily, downing half her ale in a gulp.

“Yes, and you were most effective against their shaman who was summoning evil spirits,” Darkness agreed. “Without that, we might have been in some peril.”

“Don’t forget my glorious Explosion, which took out their main nest!” Megumin cackled, grinning at the memory. “Then Kazuma gave me enough mana that I even got off a couple of fireballs! I got even MORE skill points, which I have used to further improve my Explosion’s potency!”

“And you should be thanking Darkness for keeping the survivors off you while I did the transfer from Aqua,” Kazuma pointed out. “But, still, good job all around! People might start thinking we’re a real party now!”

The girls all laughed and cheered, and they ordered a platter of fried frog legs to eat. It was a satisfying night, with Megumin going off to bully Yunyun about out-leveling her, and Darkness retiring early as usual because she had “early morning training.” Aqua went off to go stand on a table to perform tricks, while Kazuma nursed an ale and enjoyed the warm fuzzy sensation in his gut.

“Hey, Kazuma! Seems like your party has been doing pretty well for itself.”

A pretty girl in a green jacket, long brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, slid onto the bench beside Kazuma. Her most distinguishing feature though was the tanuki tail that was swishing happily behind her as she sipped at her own ale.

“Oh, hey Rin. Yeah, things are pretty good right now I guess,” Kazuma agreed, giving her a smile. “How’s life in your party? Dust still being a dumbass?”

“As ever,” Rin said with a heavy sigh, shaking her head in exasperation. “He just got out of jail for not paying his gambling debts…again. I swear, we complete enough quests, but that bum is always broke and begging me for money. He’s actually over there right now, I just needed to escape him for a bit.”

Kazuma caught sight of the hooligan in question, who appeared to be trying to bum a drink off of the other members of his and Rin’s party, Keith the Archer and Taylor the Crusader. Keith was an alright guy, who was ignoring Dust and trying (and failing) to chat up one of the guild girls as usual. Taylor was a bit of a wet blanket, and he seemed to be lecturing Dust, probably about not gambling.

“Sheesh. Is Dust still telling everyone I’m his best friend?” Kazuma said with a grimace.

Rin laughed and nodded. “After that stunt with the nobleman you two pulled, half the town thinks you're lovers still! It explains why you’re not dating any of your own party members.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just, uh, I like to keep things professional,” Kazuma muttered, peering into his own mug. “I mean, they’re my best friends, but…I dunno. What if I ruined things?”

“I can…understand that,” Rin sighed, twirling a finger through her hair, and giving Dust an exasperated look.

Seeing that, Kazuma nearly choked on his ale, and he coughed a few times, wiping his sleeve across his mouth as Rin shrank in on herself and blushed. “Seriously?! You’re holding a torch for Dust!? I mean, have you met the guy?! He’s a total sleaze, and as broke as a smashed clock!”

“He’s not a bad guy, OK!? He’s just…I don’t know…” Rin sighed and buried her face in her ale mug. “I just…he’s a friend, but… maybe I’m delusional. There aren’t exactly that many reputable guys worth dating around here, you know?”

“I dunno, the market for the girls ain’t great either. The guild girls would rather slap you than date you, and all the Adventurers are stronger than I am! Plus, they always look like they’d rather knife me than kiss me,” Kazuma sighed, slumping in his own seat.

“I have heard the boys talk about how hard it is to find a worthwhile dating partner,” Rin agreed sympathetically. “Taylor was seeing Ezmerelda for a bit, but, well…”

“Shit, really? That thief in Michell’s party?” Kazuma asked, his eyebrows raising. “Didn’t they just move to…oh.”

“Yeah, they’re all level 20 now, so they agreed to move up to a higher level town where the pay’s better. Taylor’s only level 12, so…”

“Really? That low?” Kazuma asked, his brow furrowing. “Huh. I guess you guys do mostly take on the low level quests that don’t offer much experience, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Well, what level are you?” Rin asked defensively.

“Twenty seven,” Kazuma said with a shrug. “But I’m an Adventurer, and the lowest level one in my party.”

“Twenty- are you serious!? And everyone else is higher level!? Why haven’t you moved on!?” Rin hissed, her tail standing up straight behind her as she leaned towards Kazuma.

He shrugged. “My friends are all here. Not just you, but Wiz, Yunyun, Luna, even Dust and the other guys. Besides, we make enough money, and someone has to take on the harder quests the rest of you won’t touch. Money’s not really an issue anyway.”

“Really? I know you live in that big mansion, but…I thought that was just because Aqua was the only one who could make that mega haunted place livable, and Darkness, well…”

“You know something about Darkness?” Kazuma asked suspiciously.

“Kazuma.” Rin gave him a flat look. “She’s a giant blonde pervert who isn’t in the Axis Cult, and her gear costs more than what the rest of the entire guild’s does, combined. She’s a noble, and probably a pretty important one too.”

“Well, Dust is blond,” Kazuma pointed out, wincing slightly. Maybe Darkness’ disguise wasn’t as good as she thought it was.

“Yeah, but he’s seriously broke, completely hopeless with that sword, and a total idiot. If he’s one of the nobles playing Adventurer in their youth then I’m a Crimson Demon,” Rin said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, you’re not such a bad mage. Practice your gothic poetry and weird poses and you’d fit right in,” Kazuma teased.

“Oh, stop it,” Rin snorted, shoving him hard enough Kazuma nearly fell off the bench. “I’m just a basic Wizard who only knows Intermediate Magic. Megumin and Yunyun both have more talent in their pinkies than I do in my entire body. Life just isn’t fair…”

“Well, to compensate, you’re a lot saner than they are, trust me,” Kazuma assured her.

“Gee, thanks. I guess the price of power is madness,” Rin sighed. She frowned around the guild. “Right now though, I’d settle for a decent date for myself. And some girls to keep the boys from getting too jealous. It’s too bad your party members aren’t interested in dating someone, we’re evenly matched on the gender balance.”

“Ha ha, yeah, I…wait.” Kazuma frowned at Rin, who looked back at him innocently as she sipped at her ale. “Are you saying…you’d go out with me?!”

“Well, all of the other girls have been giving me weird looks for even sitting with Scumzuma, and I’ve been asked like half a dozen times if you sexually harassed me that one time we did swap parties, and since the only other guy I’m really into is Dust, I have objectively terrible taste in men. So…maybe. If you can talk your own party members into going on a…quadruple date, I guess?”

“Who’d we even set up with who though?” Kazuma said, shaking his head.

“I guess that kinda is a problem. Who would even go out with Dust?” Rin sighed, putting her hand over her face to hide the growing blush.

“Well, he’s a drunken idiot with no sense for money,” Kazuma said. He blinked, and turned towards Rin at the same time she popped up.

“”Aqua!””

They both grinned at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing at the very thought.

“Can you even imagine!? They’d be horrible together!” Rin giggled, covering her mouth as she tried and failed not to snort.

“Ok, we have to make that happen. There’s no way it would last beyond one date, but it would be amazing just to watch the fireworks that would go off with those two having to spend time together,” Kazuma chortled. “What about Megumin? She’s a real firecracker. Who could handle her?”

“Taylor’s pretty level headed. I want to say he’d pair with Darkness because they’re the party tanks, but, well…uh, she’s not into the, er…”

“Reasonable and responsible type?” Kazuma prompted with a grin.

“...if there is one woman in this town with objectively worse taste in men than me, it’s her,” Rin tittered. “That just leaves Keith with Darkness. I mean, she’s basically the only girl he hasn’t hit on.”

“Why, she not his type?” Kazuma asked curiously.

“Because for all he acts like a horny idiot, Keith figured out she was a rich girl from a big name family the moment he saw her, and he does not want an angry head of house coming after him with the family legendary weapon because he harassed their precious baby girl,” Rin said with a shrug. “That’s why even the guys who are into women who, uh, well, come on as strong as she does, stay the hell away from her.”

“Actually, her dad asked me when I was going to knock her up. He’s got grandkid fever,” Kazuma said with a grimace. “Talk about an awkward conversation…”

“Wait, seriously? Then why haven’t you, you know,” Rin flushed and coughed. “Um, done the deed. She’s at least a little into you. Uh, speaking as a fellow connoisseur of garbage…”

“I’m kind of a trashy guy?” Kazuma said, giving Rin a flat look.

“Yeah…sorry. I wouldn’t even be hinting that I was OK with going out with you if you weren’t at least a bit of a dirtbag. Nice guys are just…well, they’re kinda boring, you know?” Rin said, blushing slightly. “Sorry if I sound like a slut or something…”

“Well, to answer your question, it’s because both of us are virgin idiots, and, well, uh…I’m not…into what she is,” Kazuma said, rubbing the back of his head. “Or that whole noble responsibility thing.”

“Huh. I’d have figured she’d have managed to trip at least one guy into a haybale,” Rin said, looking like she didn’t believe Kazuma. “And as for you…yeah, that tracks.”

“Hey! Just because I haven’t ever  had a girlfriend…how many boyfriends have you even had?!” Kazuma demanded hotly.

“Three. Though I only went all the way with one. He was back at school though, and he just wanted to become a Demolition mage after he graduated. Like, the pay is good, but man, just using your magic to build roads and buildings all day for the rest of your life…that sounds super boring.”

“O-oh,” Kazuma said, wincing slightly. “But, uh, you don’t mind that I-”

“I only have one question,” Rin turned to Kazuma, and her green eyes bored into his. “Are you going to ever mock me because I’m petite? Because I’ve seen the curves in your party, and, well, if you’re going to compare me to that, I’m not even going to bother.”

Kazuma put one hand over his heart, and groped Rin with the other, causing her to let out a squawk. “Flat is justice.”

“W-well, I, uh, I,” Rin stammered, her face going so red Kazuma was half surprised she didn’t spontaneously combust.

“Hey. Is he harassing you, Rin? Because if he is, we’ll teach this creep a lesson!”

Rin jumped in her seat, and Kazuma hastily dropped his hand, giving the two girls who’d come up to them an innocent look. He recognized them as regulars, Matilda and Gerty, another mage and a warrior woman who had an axe on her back that could have split Kazuma down the middle.

“We, uh, we’re actually…dating!” Rin said, scooting close to Kazuma, and causing both of the girls to give her a shocked look. “Yep! Um, I might have to talk to him about taking liberties in public, but no harassment here! Or, well, except for the kind that he’s allowed to do!”

Kazuma blinked in surprise, but when Matilda and Gerty’s looks sharpened he hastily nodded. “Uh, yep! We were just talking about setting up our other party members on dates! Sounds like fun, huh?”

“Rin, honey, no offense, but you have the worst taste in men I have ever heard of. And who the hell is dumb enough to date his party members? Not even Dust is stupid enough to date a lunatic red eye, an Axis Cultist, or a noble brat,” Gerty said, shaking her head in exasperation as Matilda nodded firmly.

“Hey! You can diss me all you want, but you knock it off with my friends!” Kazuma snarled, getting to his feet.

“Or what?” Gerty said with a smirk, fingering her axe handle.

Kazuma waggled his fingers suggestively. “I feel a steal coming on…”

“Seriously? You’re going to let your ‘boyfriend’ do that, Rin?” Matilda demanded, raising her staff protectively.

Rin shrugged. “If he needs to teach a couple of uptight bitches a lesson, he needs to teach a lesson. Wash your hands afterwards, Kazuma. They might have something.”

“You got it, honey. Sttteeeee-”

“EEEEK!” both the women shrieked, and ran off, their hands clutching their clothes protectively. The rest of the women in the bar (sans Aqua, who didn’t notice, and Megumin, who shouted a few derisive jeers after the two then gave Kazuma a thumbs up) all glared at Kazuma, and mutters of “Kazutrash” and “Scumzuma” abounded.

“Assholes,” Kazuma muttered, sitting back down. Rin nodded, and Kazuma experimentally trailed his arm over her shoulders. “So, uh about that whole thing…”

“If you are going to steal another girl's underwear, you’d better have a damn good reason. That was one, I think. But seriously, don’t. And burn it if you do. Unless it’s Chris’. I want a pair of hers.”

Kazuma paused, then leaned around to peer at Rin. “Are you serious?”

She snorted and shook her head. “No, but can you imagine? She’s got such a reputation for always coming out on top in every situation, and outsmarting everyone, then you, a no-namer from Eris only knows where shows up and humiliates her, twice!? Hmm, maybe you do have a thing for petite ladies.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kazuma agreed. “I, er don’t usually do that on purpose…” The look Rin gave him could have peeled paint, and Kazuma flinched. “Ok, ok! I only stole her panties twice! The first time was really an accident, and, uh, aside from that, it was just Megumin and Darkness…”

“Do you steal the panties of all the girls you want to hit on?” Rin snorted.

Kazuma considered that, then pointed his hand at Rin. “Steal.” She froze, and Kazuma felt lacy fabric fall into his hands. “Maybe.”

“...you had better not show those off to anyone,” Rin growled, turning her head to glare at Kazuma, though she was flushing rather deeply.

“I’ll keep them private, for later,” Kazuma promised, and tucked them into his belt pouch.

“What!? No! Give them back, I only have three pairs!” Rin hissed, pawing at the pouch.

“Seriously?” Kazuma asked, pausing.

Rin nodded, glaring at him, her nostil’s flaring. “Yes! I can’t exactly afford to buy a bunch of clothes!”

“How about this: your rich new boyfriend will buy you as many pairs as you want, provided you model them for him first,” Kazuma teased.

Rin stopped fumbling for Kazuma’s bag, and slowly leaned back. “Oh, really? Just how rich are you?”

“Rich enough that I could buy you a pair of panties for every day of the year and still not have to quest a day again in my life,” Kazuma said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Hubba hubba,” Rin muttered, a grin on her face as she leaned on Kazuma’s shoulder. “I’m in.”

“Uh, wait. Really?” Kazuma asked, actually shocked that had worked.

“Uh, yeah? I don’t expect you to pamper me or anything, I prefer a life of adventure, thank you very much, but being able to live in a mansion with plenty of clothes instead of a tiny closet in a cheap boarding house? Uh, yes, please!”

Kazuma nodded slowly. “Oh. Well, uh…so…tomorrow then?”

“Mmm,” Rin agreed, stroking Kazuma’s chest. “Yes. Though we’ll just start with one pair to replace what you stole, and maybe four more so I only have to wash them once a week. You can steal my bra too if you’ll buy me a couple more of those…”

“Oh? St-”

Rin hastily shoved her hand over Kazuma’s mouth. “Not HERE you dolt! Uh, later. In private! And, uh, we’ll start with the panties. But nothing but looking! I’m not going to put out on the first date, so get that out of your head!”

Kazuma nodded, and Rin withdrew her hand. “Are we, er, still going to…?”

“Oh, absolutely. We’ll figure out how to set them up tomorrow,” Rin said. She sat up, then stood, stretching and yawning. “But I’m tired, and I am not a fan of going commando. You’re lucky I did laundry this morning.”

“Oh, uh, OK.” Kazuma stood awkwardly as well, blushing slightly. “So, uh, tomorrow…say, around lunch time?”

“If you’re buying. I intend to abuse my girlfriend privileges for at least a meal,” Rin teased. Then, to Kazuma’s befuddlement, she tilted her head back and grinned at him. “Well?”

“Well…see you tomorrow?” Kazuma offered awkwardly, waving somewhat shyly.

“Well, aren’t you going to kiss your new girlfriend goodnight?” Rin laughed, and leaned in closer. “You really haven’t had a girlfriend before, have you?”

“I, uh, n-no…” Kazuma admitted, leaning in closer to Rin.

“Hmm. Well, pucker up, then.” Rin wrapped one around Kazuma, and he hastily did the same. He pressed his lips to hers in a rather chaste kiss, and when he saw her eyes were closed, he did the same.

He also noticed she was flipping off Matilda and Gerty, who were making faces across the bar, and he grinned at that.

“You really are a fujoshi, aren’t you?” Kazuma chuckled when they broke apart, his head spinning and his heart pounding.

“A what?” Rin asked, frowning slightly.

“A, uh, dirty girl.”

“If you’re calling me a trash panda, I swear to Eris, Kazuma…”

“Hmm, I like it,” Kazuma said, rubbing his chin. “My adorable little trash panda.”

“Asshole,” Rin giggled, but peaked him on the cheek. “See you tomorrow! We’ll figure out the party swap then!”

Kazuma practically floated on air out of the guild, though he came up short when he saw a short and very irritated looking mage waiting for him.

“Having a little make-out session, are we?” Megumin demanded, coming out of the shadows, though her glowing red eyes had given her away long before that. “Someone attempting to disrupt the harmony of our party?”

“Uh, actually, would you be interested in dating Taylor?” Kazuma offered hastily.

Megumin blinked at him, clearly taken aback and going off her stride. “What?”

“See, Rin and I, we noticed that, uh, well, everyone in our parties is single, and Taylor was saying how cute you are, and how much he admired your magical talent,” Kazuma hemmed.

“Really,” Megumin said, folding her arms over her chest and glaring up at Kazuma. “What did he say, exactly?”

“Well, Rin was saying he was really jealous of your skill as an Archwizard, and how amazing it was when you took out the Destroyer, and how beautiful your Explosions were,” Kazuma managed lamely.

That, however, was the ticket to Megumin’s heart, and she beamed. “Well, I can see he has better taste than some who shall remain nameless! I will consent to him attempting to woo me, but only if he does so in the fashion of the Crimson Demon Clan.”

Then, with a smirk and a giggle, Megumin flounced off back into the guild. Thankfully, Taylor seemed to have left already, and Megumin just went over to begin to loudly brag to Yunyun that she had, “Found a man worthy of my stature.”

“Great,” Kazuma groaned. “Sorry, Rin…”

He ended the evening with a very special session with Rin’s panties, which he put in a place of honor in his sock drawer. They did smell of her very strongly, and he was giddy at the thought that even if he had stolen them, Rin had been OK with him doing so. And modeling new underwear for him tomorrow…

Around lunch time, Kazuma headed to the guild, realizing he hadn’t exactly told Rin where to meet him, and figuring that was a good starting point. He had just made it into town though when he heard a frantic voice shouting his name.

“Kazuma! Kazuma!” Rin cried, running up to him, red faced and out of breath.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. What’s up?” Kazuma asked, suddenly nervous. Was Rin calling off the date?

“I screwed up!” she moaned, coming up and putting her head on Kazuma’s chest while grabbing his vest to pull around her head as if to hide herself. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just…”

“What?! What’s wrong!?” Kazuma demanded, putting a hand on Rin’s head and back reflexively.

She didn’t look up, trembling slightly as her tail sagged. “I…maybe sorta…told the boys, and they, uh, well…they’re sort of ready for the date now…”

“What!? Now!? But the girls aren’t even-” Kazuma began.

“Kazuma, Kazuma!”

Wincing, Kazuma turned as Rin hastily stepped back from him, only to see Megumin running up, dressed not in her usual robe, but a sun dress with a floral print, and a straw hat with a wide brim and and a red ribbon around it on her head. Darkness and Aqua were right behind her, similarly decked out in finery, with Darkness showing so much cleavage Kazuma thought she’d pop right out of her top.

“We are prepared! Ah, there she is! Rin, where are our prospective dates!” Megumin demanded, grinning maniacally and planting her legs wide.

“I-I am not so certain about this…” Darkness stammered. “I-I do not know if I really wish to date Dust, he, ah, well, he has a low reputation, but, um…”

“Hey if we go on a date, Keith has to pay for my food, right?” Aqua asked. “Because otherwise, this sounds really boring.”

“Uh…” Kazuma glanced at Rin, who mostly just looked relieved. “Well, uh, I don’t know what the other guys have planned, but-”

“Let’s go find out!” Rin squeaked, grabbing Kazuma’s arm and steering him towards the guild.

“Uh, do they actually have anything planned?” Kazuma whispered.

“Those idiots!? Are you kidding?! Dust wants to stay in and drink until he pukes, Keith wants to take them to that damn bar Lolisa works at, and Taylor wants to take everyone on a ‘scenic stroll!’ No wonder they’re single!” Rin sighed, her tail drooping as her shoulders slumped.

“Right…” Kazuma said, his mind racing. What did the girls like? What did Rin like? Magic stuff? New panties? Shit, Kazuma barely knew anything about her! But he did know how to herd his party of cats in a semi-coherent direction. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do…”

Rin listened as they walked, making a few suggestions and pointers to modify the plan so it would click with her own party members' sensibilities. By the time they reached the Adventurer’s guild they had, well, calling it a plan would be a stretch, but a reasonably well bullshited line of improvisation.

The three members of Rin’s party were lined up outside the guild, and to Kazuma’s astonishment, looked reasonably well-groomed. Taylor was in a nice if worn tunic and trousers, with a nice tie and his hair slicked back and neatly combed. For once, Keith didn’t look totally sleazy, though he did have on his old jacket, he was wearing what looked like a new shirt and tights and had his hair pulled back in a small bun.

The real surprise was Dust, who was nearly unrecognizable. His hair had been tamed and combed, and he had a pair of cheap brass earrings in his ears, stylized like little dangling lances. He was wearing a very outdated doublet and hose with poofy sleeves that looked wildly incongruous with his current surroundings, and shoes with actual buckles on them. The clothing was a bit rumpled and slightly stained as if it had been stored poorly somewhere and hastily retrieved, but it fit Dust as though it had been expertly tailored.

“Where did Dust get THAT get up?” Kazuma demanded of Rin softly.

She shook her head. “I have no idea, but when he heard he was supposed to take Darkness on a date, he went a little pale and muttered something about ‘the last chance for her,’ which is a bit harsh, but then again I got the sense he wasn’t even talking about Darkness.”

The boys had all been talking together, but upon seeing Kazuma and the girls approach, they hastily straightened up. Taylor stepped forward, took a deep breath, and then to Kazuma’s surprise, posed with one hand lifted on high, standing on one foot with the other toe crossed behind and touching the ground, like he was a bullfighter preparing for a performance. Which, considering who his date was, probably had some merit.

“Behold! I am Taylor of Axel, a Crusader, and he who wishes to take this Beauty of the Crimson Demon Clan on a date!”

Kazuma nearly tripped over his own two feet at that, while everyone else nearby paused and looked at Taylor like he had completely lost his marbles, then looked to Megumin to see her reaction.

To Kazuma’s shock, Megumin was blushing and clutching her bag, looking down almost cutely and fidgeting. “W-well, I-I suppose since you have managed a proper introduction, I-I will consent to allow you to woo me. But you still must prove yourself! A mere introduction is not enough to win a maiden’s tender heart!”

As if not to be outdone, Dust stepped forward, clicked his heels together as if he were standing at attention, then executed what could only be called a flawless courtly bow, taking Darkness’ hands in his and brushing his lips over the back of her hand.

“My lady, may I have the honor and pleasure of escorting you this fine day?” Dust said, maintaining his bow and not even looking up once.

“I-I would be delighted by your company, fine sir,” Darkness stammered, looking as flustered as Megumin had been. “M-Might I have the honor of your style and house?”

Dust froze for a moment, then slowly went to one knee, looking up and meeting Darkness in the eye. “This humble man is deserving of no style, and his house has been taken from him. He is but a wandering knight, lost in the Dust.”

“O-oh, uh, yes, s-sorry, I just, um, well,” Darkness stammered, looking completely off balance now.

Dust suddenly grinned and got to his feet, some of his impudence coming back. “Had those damn lessons pounded into your head by stuffy old tutors too?”

“Uh, yes,” Darkness said slowly, cocking her head to one side, then looking Dust up and down as if seeing him for the first time. “Though, ah, at this time…please, refer to me only as Darkness. I am but a humble Crusader, and you should see me only as though I were clad in a helm of no honors.”

“Then we shall both be under the unclad helm,” Dust agreed easily. Then he leered at Darkness’s bust. “Which is good, because otherwise someone of my station could never get an eyeful of those hooters!”

“Dust!” Rin hissed, and actually stuck her leg out and kicked him in the shin, causing Dust to help and hop away on one foot.

“What’s that bit about being ‘under a helm’ or whatever means?” Kazuma whispered to Megumin.

“It’s a code nobles use for when they go out incognito. Most of them wear a helm to hide their features, and in full armor you can’t tell what house a knight might be from. Darkness just doesn’t like helmet hair,” Megumin informed him.

While the whole scene with Dust and Darkness had been playing out, Keith had gone over to Aqua, a frown on his face as he held out a bunch of wildflowers to her. “Look, you’re hot and all, but I don’t have some grand speech planned. I got you these though.”

“Oh thanks, I didn’t get you anything myself,” Aqua said, accepting the flowers. She pulled out a piece of paper, from where Kazuma didn’t see, and using the flowers, crushed them to make some pigment, then did a quick sketch, which she handed over to Keith. “Here! Just a quick impression.”

Keith took one look at the drawing, and his jaw dropped open. His knees wobbled slightly, and tears filled his eyes. “This…this…how did you even…?”

Leaning over, Kazuma caught a quick glance of the paper. It was a shockingly detailed impression of a man with a hole in his chest, a throbbing heart in his hands, which he offered up to faceless demons, a look of mindless ecstasy on his face. Maybe Keith had been hitting the succubus shop just a little bit too hard.

“I can just tell, and you tell Becky just because she buys me a bottle of bubbly every week doesn’t mean she and her girls can get away with being meanies forever!” Aqua huffed. Then she smiled at Keith. “So what about lunch?”

“We have a plan!” Rin said hastily, taking Kazuma’s arm and dragging him forward a bit. “Don’t we, Kazuma?”

“Uh, that’s right,” Kazuma agreed as everyone turned to look at them. “We’re going to do a bit of shopping-” Keith and Dust looked rather concerned, while the girls smiled and Taylor nodded stoically, “and get a some food and drink for a picnic!'' Now Dust looked interested, but everyone else was completely bored, “Which we will then take to Beldia’s old castle for an Explosion Demonstrated by Megumin. It should also lure out the Ghosts and Zombies that infest the place, so we’ll take care of those and earn a little money from the bounty Luna posted.”

Now Megumin and Aqua looked delighted, while Darkness seemed disappointed.

“There’s also supposed to be a powerful Beginner’s Bane that’s got a den there, and rumor has it, she has two cubs, so we’ll need someone to hold her off when she comes out after the Explosion disturbs her,” Rin added hastily, and Darkness was grinning widely as well.

“Wait a minute,” Dust said suspiciously. “This sounds like work, not a date.”

“Then we’ll stop at the lake on the way back for some swimming, so the girls need to pick out some swimsuits,” Kazuma added as a last minute improvisation.” Dust immediately perked up and grinned at Darkness, who blushed mightily.  Aqua and Keith both grinned, Aqua probably because she loved anything to do with the water, and Keith because he wanted to see her in a bathing suit.

“Hmph,” Megumin muttered, glaring at Darkness as she began to sulk. “You all just want to leer at the cow with the giant udders over there.”

“Ah, don’t be like that Megumin, us smaller girls have our charms as well!” Rin laughed, going over to here. “Come on, we’ll pick out something that will have all the guys looking at us instead of Darkness and Aqua!”

“Hmm, well, I suppose if you are my ally in this endeavor, I can consent to it. But nothing too provocative! A Crimson Demon must have her mysteries,” Megumin said, looking slightly mollified.

The shopping trip itself was a bit of a controlled disaster, though Kazuma didn’t try too hard to organize the chaos. Dust had been a bit panicky when Darkness went straight for the most expensive clothier in Axel, clutching at what had to be an empty purse. However, for once, Darkness showed a bit of self awareness, and reassured him.

“As is traditional, mine is the greater house, and though we are under the helm, I would not expect a junior house to cater to my tastes.” Then she blushed. “That aside…um, this is the only shop with garments that are, er, sturdy enough for my ah…needs.”

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for having a killer rack,” Dust said with a chuckle. He rubbed the back of his head. “And thanks, I, uh, well, even before certain things happened, I wasn’t, well…let’s just say I’d never try and court you, high nobles usually consider people like me basically peasants.”

“Hey, the stuff here is really pricey,” Rin whispered to Kazuma. She pointed to another shop across the street, the one Megumin and Taylor were going into. “I usually shop there, way more reasonable, and the quality isn’t bad.”

Glancing at the price tags, Kazuma nearly had his eyes bug out of his head. 10,000 eris for a single regular blouse?! That was pricey. “Uh, I can afford this stuff, so if you really want to…”

“No, she might need giant spider silk and manticore leather to keep the artillery she’s packing contained, but just regular cotton works for me. Don’t go blowing that much money on the first date, or I’ll think you’re just trying really hard to get into my pants,” Rin informed him, taking his hand and pulling him across the street.

Megumin looked surprised to see Rin at the discount tailors, but she was happy enough to chat while the two of them browsed the wares, then talked with the seamstress about what they wanted.

As they chatted, Taylor leaned in close to Kazuma. “So, uh, any advice? I’ve always thought Megumin was cute, but, well, she’s a Crimson Demon!”

“Yeah?” Kazuma said, his eyes narrowing. “You gonna say something racist now?’

“What? No!” Taylor looked horrified at the prospect, and hastily clarified, “I mean, I grew up around here. Nothing but low level monsters and low experience food. She’s from, you know, an S Class Zone! And, well, she’s already an Arch Wizard! Way out of my league.”

“And she’s an Explosion maniac,” Kazuma deadpanned.

“Yes, her dedication is so admirable!” Taylor said, making a fist and nodding. “I well recall her great contributions against General Beldia and the Destroyer! To think, so early in her career, she stood alongside the Ice Witch, and was her equal!” he sighed and looked down. “How could a woman of such skill and prowess ever be interested in a man who barely qualified as a Crusader, and can’t even take on ogres without fear of death?”

“Honestly? Just tell her what you just told me. Then listen and nod when she starts going off about Explosion Magic. Oh, and a little over-the-top poetry and theatrics will go a long way with her. Just never let her even catch a hint that you’re mocking her, she’s got an ego and a temper with a fuse shorter than her cast time, which I’m pretty sure is instantaneous.”

“Wait, really?! How could that be true?!” Taylor protested, his brow knitting together. “I’m no mage, but to have instant cast on such a spell…the skill required, not to mention the investment of points, how could anyone hope to master that for a spell as mighty as Explosion!?”

“A ha! So I see Kazuma is spilling some of my deepest secrets!” As if summoned by the mention of Explosion, Megumin popped up, a broad grin on her face, one hand raised in a V sign by her eyes. “You are indeed correct! A normal mage, nay, even a normal Crimson Demon, could not hope to master instant cast of Explosion Magic! I have had to spend my sleepless nights in study, and even creating some of my own skills through dedication and research, but I have indeed mastered it! I can even cast Explosion when Silenced, or immobilized! For I am MEGUMIN, the True Mistress of Explosion Magic!”

“That’s incredible! What level even are you!? To have such skills…”

Megumin dragged Taylor over to where she was picking out a swimsuit, suddenly instructing the seamstress that “I will require a two piece garment instead of what we discussed.” Apparently, Taylor was hitting nothing but home runs, even if Kazuma was pretty sure the knucklehead had no idea he was flawlessly pressing all the right buttons.

“Psst! Kazuma! Over here!” Rin called, poking her head out from behind the curtain of one of the changing rooms.

Leaving the two apparent Explosion enthusiasts behind, Kazuma stepped into the small changing room, where a blushing Rin had on a rather modest swimsuit top, a green and yellow sarong over a bra that hung down to a few centimeters above her belly button on the front, and boyshorts in the same color scheme.

“Hey, not bad,” Kazuma said, grinning lecherously, though keeping his hands at his sides. “You look smokin’ in that.”

“Why thank you,” Rin giggled, posing despite the cramped space and winking at Kazuma. “But, uh, that’s not what I called you in here for…”

“Oh?” Kazuma’s heart began to pound, especially when Rin pulled out several pairs of panties and a bra. “Oh ho. Those do look nice, I like the little bows on the front.”

“Well, you’d better, because you’re buying,” Rin said bluntly, poking him in the chest. “And no stealing these! At least, not in public!”

“I promise,” Kazuma agreed, and made to step outside the curtain. “I’ll just let you get changed…”

“Oh no. Have a seat. I’m keeping an eye on you while Megumin gets changed herself. I can trust Taylor not to try anything, but you…I don’t think so.”

“Wait, are you saying-” Kazuma began, but Rin pushed him onto the bench at the back of the changing room.

“Keep it down, if Madam Fustrow hears you, she’ll kick us both out, or at least charge extra,” Rin scolded, blushing and putting one arm over her chest. “Just…consider this your reward. I didn’t think this would be going nearly so well…”

“I, uh, sure,” Kazuma agreed.

Rin grinned mischievously, though her face was still red, then slowly turned around. “Undo me, please?”

With clumsy fingers and baited breath, Kazuma managed to undo the clasps at the back of Rin’s top. She turned back around, hugging herself to keep the sarong on. Then, slowly, she lifted her arms, letting the fabric flutter to the floor. She posed with her hands behind her back, wiggling slightly. “Well, um, like what you see?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re, um, pretty great,” Kazuma stammered.

“Well, that’s good. I’m not as stacked as some of the monsters in your party, but I at least don’t get mistaken for a boy,” Rin said with a smirk. She wrapped her tail around her front. “Now, no peeking…”

Kazuma very much did try to peek, though he only caught glimpses as Rin slid her bottom down, then picked up a pair of the panties she’d selected. She held them up for Kazuma’s inspection, pink fabric with a green trim and small bow on the front, briefs that showed less skin than the swimsuit had. She hiked them up, then grabbed a bra, this one closer to a sports bra. “Not so sexy, but this is practical stuff for work.”

“It uh, it still looks pretty sexy,” Kazuma managed, wiping away a drop of blood and sniffing loudly.

“Why thank you. Do me up?” Rin said, and Kazuma obligingly managed to hook it.

Rin frowned, cupping her own breasts and bouncing up and down a few times, then doing a few twists and exercises, her tail swishing back and forth. “Hmm. Yeah, this one will do. Madam Fustrow knows my size from my previous purchases.”

“They do look pretty good,” Kazuma agreed, unable to take his eyes off Rin.

“I like sexy better, we’ll need to work on your vocabulary, though. Or do I just reduce you to a drooling caveman?” Rin giggled. “Alright, next pair…”

Rin tried on a few different styles, all of which Kazuma did his best to lavish with praise. They were all fairly practical, the sort of thing Kazuma imagined she would wear on a day to day basis.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the show,” Rin said with a giggle, dragging Kazuma up, then pushing him towards the door. “Now I need to get changed. Go make sure Aqua didn’t manage to burn down the shop or something.”

“Do I have to?” Kazuma asked with half a whine. “I could make sure your clothes fit…”

“You’ve seen enough for one day, especially the first date! Go do something useful,” Rin ordered, and shut the curtain behind Kazuma.

Aqua, it turned out, was charming all the fish in the nearby fountain, while Keith mostly just gawked at her act. Darkness and Dust were still in the expensive tailor shop, and Megumin and Taylor had moved on to purchasing the food and drink for their picnic, which Kazuma assisted with. If Megumin had been allowed to pick, they’d have had day old bread and stale cheese, with the goal of catching some crawdads to cook or something.

“We’re not catching crawdads on a date,” Kazuma flatly told her. “That’s stupid.”

“Actually, I quite like crawdads. My father taught me, and we’d often have them for meals, especially in the summer. They go great with some wild onions and a dandelion salad,” Taylor piped up, earning him a glare from Kazuma and a big grin from Megumin.

“No, and that’s final. I’m not cooking little water roaches for Rin,” Kazuma said firmly.

“He just doesn’t respect our culture,” Megumin said, and Taylor sighed and nodded.

“Rich folks. They just don’t understand the satisfaction of a good meal you harvested and cooked yourself.”

Ignoring the two idiots, Kazuma got two entire roast chickens, several loaves of fresh bread, butter, peaches, cream, a small cask of ale, and two bottles of wine. Actually, he got an extra one just for Aqua to be on the safe side.

By the time he was finished loading down Taylor, everyone else was outside the shop, and it was well into the afternoon. Kazuma half wondered if they should call the whole thing off for the next day, but everyone seemed so eager to set out, he said what the heck, and set off for the ruins of Beldia’s castle.

Second Archon War: Animula Choragi Preview

Animula Choragi 1: Le Misérable

Water washed over Furina, hiding her tears, and despite herself, she sucked in one final breath. So it was over. She had failed. Five hundred years of torment, and all for naught. She’d played upon the grandest stage, and in the end, the Prophecy had still come true.

Something within her began to dissolve into the waters, and her form began to merge with her tears. So I will dissolve back into the Primordial Sea like the rest. In the end, I was just a mortal. What folly, to think I could play the role of a god…

A wave of power hit her, and Furina tried to gasp, only to find she had no lungs to breathe. She opened her eyes, and beheld her reflection, staring back at her. Only… it was slightly different. She was wearing a long white dress that showed off her non-existent bust, and her hair was longer and held back in only a loose braid. She blinked, and her reflection started in shock. Slowly, the reflection put her hand up to the mirror, tilting her head to one side.

Furina? That voice…was it hers? It sounded a bit like her but richer and more regal.

Hesitating for a moment, Furina slowly mimicked the gesture, placing her own gloved hand against the mirror.

No, not like that, I think. Reach out, my child. You’ve done so well.

How can you say that? Furina demanded silently, tears falling down her cheeks as she withdrew her hand to hug herself. I’ve failed! They’re dead! All dead! First those poor girls, then all those people in Poisson, and now, all of Fontaine! I’ve failed completely! I’m as useless as they say!

Oh, Furina. Open your eyes. See.

Gentle hands reached out, cupping Furina’s cheeks, and she started in shock, her eyes flying open. The apparition had reached through the mirror, ghostly hands that were strangely warm tenderly brushing away Furina’s tears. Tenderly but firmly, the apparition turned Furina’s gaze away from the mirror to behind her. She started in surprise, her jaw dropping open.

A great ship, captained by Wriothesley, churned atop the waves, retrieving men, women, children, and schools, great schools of people from the waves. Navia led a flotilla of smaller boats as the Spina de Rosula did the same thing, rescuing Furina’s people from the depths. The twins and Paimon zipping over the waves, the strangers from afar lifting up survivors to place them on their little boat, while the tiny fairy gave out blankets and food.

And above it all, Neuvillette, his head bowed, hands resting on his cane.

“Your sins… are forgiven,” he whispered. He looked up, a pained gleam in his eye as a single tear traced its way down his cheek. “You should have seen this, Furina. It was your most magnificent performance.”

Jaw dropping open, Furina watched as she floated below the surface of the water, incredulous at first, but even as she floundered to fully comprehend the success of her actions, a giddy sense of joy overwhelmed her. She laughed and cried, doing a little jig in the water and twirling about.

I did it! I actually did it! Oh, Focalors, if only you could see me now! Your plan worked! Your people are saved!

Yes. I am sorry, Furina.

Furina turned back to the apparition, starting in shock. Instead of the woman in a dress, she saw only an oceanid, floating within the mirror, a crown upon its head. When Furina looked down at her hands, she saw only watery blobs, and she realized she was nothing more than a Hydro Phantasm now.

Of course. My purpose is complete. Perhaps, now, at last, I can rest. Furina thought to herself, closing her eyes and letting herself drift upon the current.

Is this what you truly wanted, my daughter? The voice in the mirror asked softly.

Yes, Furina said, but after a moment, softly admitted, but… I think… just once… I would have liked to just be me… if only for a little while.

She closed her eyes, and felt her body, now made solely of Hydro energy, slowly dissolving into the waters of the Primordial Sea. She had bought salvation for her beloved Fontaine, but at a price. Still, she was just a worthless girl, an actor upon the stage, nothing more. Who even was Furina de Fontaine really?

Why don’t we find out? The gentle voice whispered.

Wouldn’t that be nice? But it’s only an illusion, washed away in the rains…

Everything swept away, and Furina knew nothing for a time, perhaps an eternity, or maybe only a moment.

Then, she felt a drop of rain on her face.

Startled, she opened her eyes, shocked that she had eyes again. Above her stretched grey clouds, from which rain had just begun to fall. She blinked in shock as the water touched her face, and lifted her trembling hand to wipe it away.

“C’est qui, cette femme? Connaissez-lui-vous?”

“Non, mais elle semble comme para. Ne l'approche pas.”

Voices spoke all around her, and Furina sat up, looking around her with eyes growing ever wide her. She was sitting on a metal bench of some sort, a gravel path before her, with a lake stretching out in front of her, the surface rippling as the rain fell on it. A couple was passing by her, whispering, and looking sideways at Furina.

“Merde, il pleut! Allez, éloignons-nous d'elle.”

“T’as vu d'où elle venait? C'est comme si elle est sortie de nulle part.”

Their language was odd, as were their clothes. The style was nothing like that of Fontaine, with the designs rather simple, and the woman’s long pants clinging to her form rather tightly. It was flattering on her figure, but rather shocking, and with none of the frills or buttons that Furina was used to seeing. The man was dressed in a jacket with stripes and an odd logo, with symbols on it that Furina thought were words, but she couldn’t understand.

“Il faut appeler la police, ou peut-être les Mousquetaires?”

“Tais-toi! Elle nous regarde!”

The couple was walking away rapidly now, and Furina saw a mother hastily shepherding her children away from where they’d been feeding the waterfowl, shooting frightened looks at Furina all the while. Their clothes were equally odd, as were their hairstyles. The woman had some sort of odd device she’d pulled out and was putting to her ear, even as her little girl pulled at her hand and pointed.

“Maman, maman, regarde! C'est une héroine! Est-ce-que elle est comme l'éclair de la Princesse Ami?”

Timidly, Furina raised a hand and waggled her fingers at the girl, who eagerly waved frantically back, a huge grin blooming on her face. Her mother, however, tugged on her hand even harder, trying to speak into that little box and herd her daughter and juggle a toddler in the crook of her arm as well.

Wincing, Furina turned back around. Wherever she was, apparently they’d already heard she was a fraud and a charlatan. She took a few moments to get her bearings, just enjoying the sensation of the cold rain upon her skin. She even took off her hat, turning her face up to the sky, letting the water splash upon her cheeks.

I’m sorry I cannot give you more. For now, this is the best I can do. Remember: I’ll always be close to you.

“Eh?” Furina stood, looking around, but there was no sign of anyone near her. The park was rapidly emptying out as the rain intensified, and the people who had seen her were moving away from her as fast as they could. Furina even went so far as to kneel down and check under the bench, as silly as that was. She got her knees wet and scuffed on the gravel for nothing, however, as obviously there was no one there.

A sudden sense of vertigo struck Furina, and she collapsed back into the bench, one hand going to her chest as she struggled to breathe for a moment. Sensations and images rushed through her mind, a torrent of sudden knowledge and power. She could feel the rain. Sense it falling through the sky, landing on the ground, forming into puddles, into streams, into little rivers. She could sense the lake, feel how artificial it was, formed by human hands, but still containing the power of fresh water within it.

And more. She could feel the distant tug of larger bodies of water, impressions of lakes, rivers, and even the vast and endless deep. It was all too much, and she cried out in pain, clutching her head in her hands.

“Enough! Please, enough! I don’t want this! I just want to be Furina!”

If that is your wish…

It all stopped. Even the rain, which suddenly petered out, the clouds overhead slowly breaking up. Furina sat there, soaked to the bone and gasping for breath, her eyes wide as she tried to fathom what had just happened to her. What was going on? Where was she? What had that… feeling been?! It didn’t make any sense!

“Salut, bonne journée! Alors, il fait bon aujourd’hui, non?”

With a start, Furina looked up to see a smiling face looking down at her, green eyes framed by bright red hair. She jerked back, putting a hand to her chest. “Charlotte?! What are you doing here?”

The other woman tilted her head to one side, standing up from where she had been leaning down to put her face in front of Furina’s. She was dressed in tight red clothes that showed off her tight and muscled belly, as well as a modest bosom that Furina still envied. Even after 500 years, she still wasn’t over what nature had denied her. Not that she’d ever had time for that sort of thing, but, well, to say she had several insecurities was to say that the Marechaussee Phantom employed only a few melusines.

“Charlotte? Non, c’est pas moi! À bon, je suis désolée, mais je ne peux pas vous comprendre. Parlez-vous français? Ou l'anglais, par chance?” the woman said with a laugh and a smile. She said something else, but Furina was slowly realizing something.

She could understand the woman.

“You’re not Charlotte,” Furina said slowly, carefully enunciating the words in this new language that was similar to Fontainian, but subtly different. “But you want to know if I speak…what was it? Angle-ash? I’m afraid I don’t know what a French is.”

The other woman laughed, showing off a bright and cheery smile, the antlers on her head bobbing up and down slightly. “Why my dear, you’re speaking it right now! Though with a bit of a bumpkin accent, I have to say. Where are you from? Somewhere in Aquitaine? The Loire Valley?”

“From Fontaine. I’m… I’m Furina de Fontaine,” she said, and held her breath, not knowing what would happen.

“Fontaine? Never heard of it! Are you quite alright? We got a few calls about a strange woman in a cape costume sitting on a park bench, and I was in the area so I came over to investigate. Do you need help, or perhaps legal representation? Are you a para?”

“I… have done legal work on occasion,” Furina said slowly, picking up her bedraggled hat from beside herself on the bench and frowning at it. A role. This woman was expecting something. She hadn’t reacted at all to the name ‘Furina de Fontaine.’ So, she was far away from Fontaine. She needed to play a role, to find out what was going on.  “I am… somewhat new in town. I don’t suppose you could direct me to, ah, the nearest… theater?”

“Ah, so you’re an actor!” the other woman chuckled, slapping her side in amusement. “I see! Well,  you gave everyone quite a fright. They said you appeared on that bench out of nowhere and dressed up like that, well…”

“Ah, well, I do a bit of stage magic,” Furina said, standing up and settling her hat on her head. “One has to keep one’s skills up to snuff, of course. What was your name, again?”

“That depends, is there cape trouble, or legal trouble?” the other woman asked, her green eyes suddenly flashing with amusement. Furina studied her, but she didn’t see a Vision on her. These capes…were they players of some sort? Actors, or fighters? People had seemed worried about that… well, she didn’t know anything about these ‘capes’ but she did know a great deal about the law.

“Legal trouble. My last employer… well, let us say that we did not part on the best of terms,” Furina hedged.

Quick as a flash, the other woman whipped out a card and pressed it into Furina’s hands. It had bright red lettering on a cream-colored background and had the image of a deer’s horn wrapped in flames on it.

“In that case, I’m Yennefer Lustitia! Attorney at Law! I represent clients in all kinds of cases! I actually handle a lot of employment law. You wouldn’t believe how many parahumans and Vision Holders have trouble with employers. Everything from discrimination in the workplace, to unlawful termination, to the withholding of wages…I think I can help you out!”

“Er, yes, that sounds helpful,” Furina agreed, studying the card. She could read the words on it, to her shock, even though the characters looked nothing like modern Teyvan script, or the more ancient runes early Fontainians had used.

Yennefer Lustita, Practicing Attorney

Specializing in representing Capes of all kinds.

If you need a lawyer, call upon the Antlers of Justice!

“Why don’t you come with me to my office? It’s just a short bus ride away,” Yennefer offered, gesturing broadly into the distance, through the trees and along the gravel path. “I know it’s not glamorous, but being a part-time Musketeer and part-time lawyer doesn’t pay as well as I might like.”

“Ah, yes, of course, I’ve always thought they should pay public servants more,” Furina said with a titter, making a desperate gamble that a Musketeer was some kind of Garde unit, or that being a lawyer was a public servant of some sort here.

“Yes, well, we make do with what we have, don’t we? So, tell me about your troubles,” Yennefer prompted as they walked along the path towards what sounded like a road with heavy traffic of some kind.

“Oh, well, you know, it’s a similar story to what I’m sure you’ve heard before,” Furina said by way of trying to say as little with as many words as possible as she stalled for time. “I was living out in the countryside, keeping much to myself, occasionally doing a few small performances with some of the skills I’d picked up…and I…I…”

Furina swallowed and very nearly missed a step. Great vehicles emitting some sort of horrendous smelling fumes were puttering by, in a myriad of shapes and sizes. People were just walking along the side of the road, ignoring them, and she could see that there were more people inside. Since no one else was paying any attention to them, she did her best to pay them no heed, along with, well... everything else.

Now that they were out of the trees, Furina realized they’d been in a park of some sort. There were all sorts of buildings in the distance, some of them truly enormous. She’d thought the Opera Epiclese was about as large as it was possible for a building to be, but unless she was very much mistaken, she could see dozens of behemoths of glass and metal that dwarfed it in the distance, and a dozen more close by that were much larger than the vast majority of Fontainian constructions were.

“... I decided to move to the big city, since there was no real opportunity in the countryside,” Furina declared, giving a theatrical sigh. “I packed what little possessions I had, since my former employer stiffed me on my last paycheck, and came here, hoping to seek my fortunes at the theater.”

This had to be a big city. It looked enormous, and the number of people splashing through the puddles and hurrying along the streets was shocking. One of them, a man with his hands shoved in his pockets, a few days' growth of dark stubble on his cheeks, and an incredibly foul-smelling thing of some kind dangling from his lips, leered at Furina and Yennefer.

“Ah, such pretty girls! Why don’t you stop playing at being capes, and come have a drink at the cafe with me?” he said with a wink.

“I do not make a habit of consorting with those lacking manners, nor do I make myself friendly to men whose breath would offend even a vishap,” Furina sniffed, tilting her chin up in disdain.

“Ah, if you see such a lout, let me know, I will chase him off!” the man declared, spreading his arms wide. “And what could be sweeter than a shared cigarette over wine? Come, bring your pretty friend too, you might need her if there is a case for sexual harassment.”

“Perhaps you have time to drink wine and ruin your lungs in the middle of the day, but some of us have work to do,” Yennefer said with an equally disdainful sniff. “Run along, or I’ll light more than your cigarette for you, fool.”

The man called after them, but Furina and Yennefer hurried along, most of the other people giving them a wide berth, though most of the men still leered at them.

“Disgusting pig,” Furina muttered, shaking her head in distaste. “Most men have better manners than to come on to one such as I so directly.”

“Oh? Were you someone of note in your small town? I’m afraid the men in Paris are a boorish lot, and wouldn’t find any country fame to be anything but something of interest to notch on their bedposts,” Yennefer commented.

Cold sweat washed over Furina, and realized she made a horrible mistake. She was still playing the role of Focalors, as she did as naturally as breathing, and had done for hundreds of years. But she wasn’t Focalors, the God of Justice, Hydro Archon. The Prophecy had been duped, and Furina had taken her final bow upon the stage of Fontaine. Wherever she was now, she wasn’t playing the Hydro Archon now. She was just Furina.

The only problem was, she didn’t really know who Furina was.

“Ha ha, oh, you know I jest. Surely a woman such as yourself must put up with insufferable louts who leer at you all day. Most consider me rather plain, and well, lacking in womanly attributes,” Furina said, gesturing self-deprecatingly to her rather modest, or well, entirely absent, curves.

“Ah ha, I think you underestimate yourself, and the Parisian appetite for beauty! You are a fine looking woman, I am certain that many will come to see your performances!”

Blushing, Furina looked away. She’d been deemed “cute” by the Steambird and other publications, consistently ranking amongst the “most adorable members of society” and nearly at the top of those lists, save for the few biased in favor of Sigewinne. Not that Furina minded, she found the little nurse of Meropide to be completely charming herself, and she’d never thought she was particularly good-looking. Especially not with her horrible eye, which at least typically identified her as the Archon.

“Well, one must cultivate one’s good looks as they can, but attracting bottom feeders such as that was never my intention. I’d sooner kiss a blubberbeast than a ruffian like him. But tell me, I am new to Paris. I’ve heard stories of course, but what is it really like?”

Yennifer seemed happy enough to chatter away until they came to a sign with the word “BUS” atop it, and various numbers that utterly baffled Furina along the sides. People were standing on the sidewalk as more of those odd vehicles went by at frighteningly fast speeds, some of them waiting under a little shelter close by, others talking with friends or looking at various publications. One young man was tapping away with his thumbs at one of those odd little boxes, while a woman had one to her ear and was talking into it. A communication device of some sort? Furina hadn’t seen anything like it before, but this was clearly a strange land.

Furina chatted with Yennifer, doing the best to deflect any questions with jokes or vague answers, and trying to get as much information without looking she was probing as she possibly could. She had a lot of experience with it, and she had Yennifer talking about the “French Legal System.” It sounded rather fascinating, and didn’t really work at all like the Opera Epiclese had.

Though Neuvillete was the Iudex and the Maison Ordaile was responsible for writing all the laws, in her role as Focalors, Furina had carefully researched every law on the books of Fontaine, even the particularly obscure or silly ones. She knew how everything worked, from how the Garde enforced the law, to how investigations of the Marechaussee Phantom played out, and of course, how cases were tried and prosecuted. She had, of course, acted as prosecutor and defense herself on many occasions, either for cases she found especially dramatic, or when one had particularly roused her rather overdeveloped sense of justice.

Play a role long enough, and you started to become it, after all.

After only a few minutes, a particularly large vehicle with a bored looking driver pulled up to the curb, and the doors hissed open. Several people got out, and many of the waiting people began to board.

“That’s our bus! Come on,” Yennifer said, and stepped aboard. However, as she made to follow, Furina noted that people were either showing some sort of pass to the bus driver or dropping some change into a box.

Hanging back slightly, Furina made a great show of patting herself down, as if searching for a wallet. That was, of course, pure fabrication. Furina didn’t carry something so base as actual mora with her. She’d made the mistake of attempting to pay for things only very early in her career. People had been either offended or suspicious when she had, as by their logic, gods didn’t pay for things. So, naturally, she just ordered people to give her whatever she wanted, or simply took it and if they looked concerned, told them to bill the Palise Mermona. Neuvillette and her staff handled such things.

She did feel guilty about it, and did her best to control her spending. The one area she let herself indulge in was sweets and pastries, and she consoled herself that businesses competed fiercely to be able to say that Furina de Fontaine had sampled their confections, and chefs from as far away as Inazuma had come to prepare her daily delicacies. She did still have to go on occasional overly indulgent shopping trips, of course. She had a reputation to maintain, and naturally, all of Fontaine looked to their Archon as the trendsetter. Her current outfit was only a few months old, and she’d have had to get a new one made in a new style shortly, just to maintain appearances.

…She wouldn’t have to do that anymore though. None of that now, actually. There was no need to play a facade now that the play was over. She could… Well, she supposed she could still go buy sweets and pastries. What would it be like to actually pay for something?

“Oh, goodness, I must have dropped my wallet, I’ll have to go back and look for it, I’ll meet you-” Furina began, but Yennefer grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bus, dropping some change into the box as the driver glared sullenly at them and pulled on that horrible cigarette in his mouth. Such things could not be good for one's health, and it really did smell vile. In fact, the whole bus stank of unwashed bodies and that wretched smoke, making Furina want to gag slightly.

“You didn’t have a wallet with you, and there was none on that bench you were sitting on,” Yennefer said, pushing Furina into the seat closest to the window then sitting down herself. Furina paled slightly and opened her mouth to come up with a story, but Yennefer gave her a pitying look. “You don’t have any money, do you?”

“No,” Furina said, her voice very small as she shrank in on herself.

“Spent all of it on that costume, didn’t you?” Yennefer said with a heavy sigh. “That looks custom, and expensive.”

Horrendously so, Monsieur Jaque le Couturier himself had designed the outfit, and his services ordinarily ran into the millions of mora. Furina knew for a fact that he hadn’t charged a single mora for it, as he’d been begging her to wear another of his outfits for three years, and that Jaque had seen a tenfold increase in sales from the day Furina had premiered the outfit, which had been, of course, when Lumine and Aether had arrived in Fontaine. She’d heard about their coming, and what they’d done in the other regions in their quest for a way home.

The moment that Lumine had eagerly agreed to face Furina in combat had been her biggest fright in centuries. Aether had just looked bored at the prospect, but that deadly gleam in that Outlander’s eye… perhaps the rumors that the Travelers had faced the Raiden Shogun herself in single combat were true after all.

“... yes. I…I realized too late I shouldn’t have bought it, but by then my last coin was spent, and that wicked salesman was already laughing at having deceived an ignorant country bumpkin,” Furina said, putting just the right amount of scorn and shame that a duped peasant who’d been tricked into buying finery would have. “They are such lovely clothes though…”

Yennefer let out a heavy sigh and put a hand on Furina’s shoulder. When Yennefer spoke, her accent was subtly different, and it had a distinctly unrefined quality to it. “It’s OK, I get it. I’m from Lozère myself. More than one city slicker looked down their nose at me and tried to have one over on me before I figured things out. You really are from far out in the sticks, aren’t you?”

“Would you believe that before I came to Paris, I had never ridden on a bus before?” Furina said with a sheepish grin. It was true enough: While she had, of course, ridden on water buses, they were nothing like this.

“Well, it’s all the more important that we recover your lost wages then!” Yennefer declared, folding her arms over her chest and grinning. “Trust me, I’m an expert at that.”

“I… don’t know if that will be possible,” Furina said carefully, her mind stretching back to various rather boring and trite disputes she’d heard at the Opera before. “There was no formal contract, only a verbal agreement, and I think I violated that regardless by not giving sufficient notice to my employer that I was quitting to come to Paris. Plus, it’s rather far away, and I doubt that whatever we could recover would even be worth your fee.”

“Ah. That does make things difficult,” Yennefer admitted, frowning and leaning back in her seat. “I don’t like it when people try and cheat others just because they’re a parahuman. You are a parahuman, aren’t you?”

“M-maybe?” Furina squeaked. She really had no idea what a parahuman even was, and she hadn’t picked up nearly enough context to figure it out yet.

That earned her a frown from Yennefer. “You know, someone like us, who has powers. Not a Vision, of course, but most Vision Holders don’t have obvious physiological signs like you. Plus, I’ve never seen one with a teardrop symbol like you have in your eye. Are your powers water based?”

Furina blinked at Yennefer, then against her will, a giggle escaped her lips. Then next thing she knew, she was clutching herself, crying hysterically at the same time as she laughed uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.

Even here. She found herself in a strange land where people didn’t even know who Furina de Fontaine was, and even here, they expected that she had some sort of incredible powers, and water based ones no less. The truth, of course, was as tragic as always.

“So, uh, is that a yes? Or a no?” Yennefer asked, frowning at Furina with obvious concern, and clearly more than a little offended.

“I, I am sorry,” Furina hiccuped, drawing out one of her lace hankies and trying futilely to clean herself up. Her makeup was running everywhere, there was snot dripping out of her nose, and her cheeks were now red and puffy, and she was willing to bet her right eye was bloodshot while the left had gone all swollen and stormy.  “It’s just…my whole life, people have been assuming that because of my eye, I did have some sort of strange powers. But it’s nothing but a curse. A twisted birthmark fate cursed me with.”

“Oh! I am sorry. I’m, ah, sensitive about such things,” Yennefer admitted, touching her horns absently with one hand.

“Ah, that. Are you some sort of er…” she wracked her mind for a phrase. In Fontaine she would have been called Beast Blooded, but that was often used as a derogatory term for those who lacked purely human ancestry. She vaguely recalled hearing of a woman from Liyue who had antlers, and was a practitioner of the law, actually, and ventured, “Adeptus?”

“Is that what you call parahumans? You’ve looked at me like a poleaxed cat every time I say the word,” Yennefer said with some amusement back in her tone. “And yes, I am a parahuman. I triggered some years back after a friend and I had, well, a bit of a falling out. It was a dark time in my life, but I came through it!”

“Ah, yes, well, I’m afraid unless simply having an oddly colored eye makes one a parahuman, I am not. I have no extraordinary powers, unless you count being the most charming and talented performer in the history of Fontaine,” Furina said, forcing a laugh at the end.

“Well, I’m sure your little village is very charming, and has produced many talented actresses. Ah, we’re here!” Yennefer declared, and sprang out of her seat, ushering Furina off the bus before her.

They were in another part of the city, with yet more great buildings all around them. There were a great many people on the sidewalks, and Furina took a moment to look around, trying her hardest not to appear like the ignorant out of towner she so painfully was.

“My office is on the third floor, but when was the last time you ate?” Yennefer asked, nodding to a building half a block away.

“I…” Furina’s mind blanked on that. When was the last time she’d eaten? She’d felt too sick to eat since she’d heard about Possone, and after that, everything had moved so quickly.

As if to betray her, her stomach gurgled at just that moment, so loudly that Furina blushed furiously and prayed that Yennefer hadn’t heard it.

“That long, huh?” the other woman laughed, clapping Furina on the back. “There’s a wonderful Chinese place on the bottom floor, why don’t we stop there and have a bite first.”

“You’re sure?” Furina asked hesitantly. “You’ve already been so kind, I don’t have any way to repay you…”

“Ah, it’s fine! One of the duties of the Musketeers is to see to the well-being of all the citizens of France! And what sort of hero would I be if I let a damsel in distress wither away without my help?” Yennefer said, taking Furina’s arm and guiding her towards a building with a sign that depicted some sort of fire-breathing bear of some kind holding a pepper of some kind, with characters that read “Wanmin Restaurant.”

An oddly distorted warble played as they entered inside, and a young woman with dark Liyue features popped up from behind a counter. “Hello! Welcome to Waimin Restaurant! How many in your party today?”

“Hello,” Furina said absently, looking around at the various tables and decorations. There were lots of black and white bears, along with dragons and various banners that declared good luck and good food to be had. “Just two of us, I think.”

“Hey, Ling! It’s just me and a friend,” Yennefer said, coming in behind Furina. She frowned at Furina slightly, which made her wilt. Had she said something wrong?

“Yenny!” Ling said happily, hurrying out from behind the counter with two menus. She was dressed in an apron with a red blouse and those tight blue pants everyone seemed to wear, her short hair pulled back in two curved braids behind her head. “My favorite customer! I have some special ingredients today! Think you can handle them? How about you, my new friend!”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be delicious, I’m famished,” Furina said with a smile. “What do you recommend?” It was always best to ask a chef what they recommended, they almost always knew best.

“I have some slime condensate, imported fresh from Germany, along with whopper flower petals! I’ve been using them to make a special new sauce! Wanna try it!?” Ling asked excitedly, coming right up to Furina, her eyes sparkling.

“Er, that does sound…exotic,” Furina said uncertainly. “I’ve never had slime condensate and whooper flower petals before… uh, since this is my first time at your establishment, perhaps a more conventional dish? What do you recommend, Yennefer?”

Yennefer gave Furina a blank look, which was rather puzzling. She’d been watching Furina while she spoke, and she just drifted off? That didn't seem like Yennefer from the brief time Furina had known her.

Ling laughed. “She doesn’t speak Chinese! What do you think, Yenny? Wanna try my slime and whooper flower sauce?”

With a start, Furina suddenly realized that Ling had started off speaking a completely different language to her, but then switched halfway through back to French. Her empty stomach sank all the way down to her knees when Furina realized she’d been chattering away in Chinese, responding to a greeting Ling had given her. The exact words were… Ni Hao? But, how had she done that? She spoke Teyvan and Fontainain of course, but she was only passable in other languages, never having been very interested in learning them, as there was only time for her endless pursuit of foiling the prophecy.

Which you did. You succeeded. It’s over.

“I think I’ll pass. We’ll have the lunch special. I’m more fond of vegetarian dishes myself, how does the vegetarian mapo tofu sound?”

“Wonderful,” Furina said, trying and failing not to blush at her little slip. As a country bumpkin, Furina most assuredly did not speak Chinese or any other languages aside from French.

Ling agreed, looking rather dejected at the refusal of her insane culinary offering, but shouted to the back, “DAD! TWO VEGGIE MAPO TOFUS! MAKE IT AUTHENTIC, THIS ONE ACTUALLY SPEAKS CHINESE!”

“Oh, we got a customer from back home?” a middle aged man with a clean shaven face and lots of smile lines around his eyes stuck his head out of the back, and he spied Furina sitting with Yennefer, the only customer in the restaurant at the moment. “Her? She’s got blue hair, but she looks like a foreigner. What makes you think she speaks Chinese?”

“I, ah, I have always been very interested in other languages,” Furina said, giving the man a hesitant wave. “Though, er, if by ‘authentic’ you mean ‘extra spicy…’ I would beg that you be gentle with me. I am afraid my tolerance for such things is somewhat lacking.”

She didn’t have to try. She just thought ‘This man’s tongue’ and she was speaking Chinese, or whatever this language was, as easily as she did Fontainian, or, well French now for that matter. When had she picked up such a facility with languages?

A god speaks to the soul of the mortal, not to their mind. To us, the tongues of men are as trivial as breathing.

Where had that thought come from? If there was one thing Furina had learned in five hundred years, it was that she was no god.

“You speak many languages?” Yennefer asked casually, and this time, Furina caught what she really said. Du sprichst viele Sprachen?

Now to gamble. That language somehow made Furina think of Mondstadt. And, well, Mondstadt shared a border with Fontaine…and French reminded her of Fontainian. So, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Furina to know it, but was Aquitaine near Germany? A compromise.

“Ich spreche es wenig. Chine lerne ich fleißig, als…als… er…Erholung?” Furina said, stumbling over the words and mangling the pronunciation slightly. “Mein Onkel, er hatte ein paar Bücher.”

“Not too bad,” Yennefer said, relaxing slightly. “Too bad you don’t speak Japanese. There are tons of legal documents that need translating to and from Japanese these days with how much they’ve taken over the manufacturing sector.”

“I’m afraid that escapes me, but I’ve always had a knack for languages. Perhaps with a little study I could learn,” Furina offered.

“Here’s your tea and soup!” Ling said happily, setting a steaming hot tray down on the table with two small bowls with what smelled like a delicious egg soup, and a small teapot and two cups.

“Thank you,” Furina said, making herself say “Merci” instead of “Xiexie.”

“Thanks be to Barbados, let’s eat!” Yennefer said happily, picking up a bowl of soup. She paused, eyeing Furina, who realized she was giving the other woman a wounded look. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t believe in Ventism.”

“Er, no, I just, well, I’m more traditional,” Furina sputtered. “I didn’t realize that the Church of Barbatos had spread to this land.”

Really. Barbatos, instead of Focalors? In the past, she’d felt extremely awkward when people had said prayers to her, but for some reason, this felt…wrong. Like she should be the one receiving this woman’s prayers. That was silly.

“Barbados. Not Barbatos,” Yennefer corrected, sipping some soup out of her spoon.

“Er, yes, quite,” Furina agreed, letting it pass. Maybe it wasn’t the same religion, after all. This place hardly seemed like Mondstadt, and the Church of Barbatos wasn’t exactly evangelical.

“So, you’re the good sort of girl who goes to mass every day and twice on Sunday?” Yennefer teased as Furina began to inhale her soup. It really was absolutely delicious, and she was starving.

“Mmm, not quite,” Furina said, resisting the temptation to run her finger along the inside of the bowl and lick it. She wasn’t normally a fan of savory dishes, but this was quite good. The tea wasn’t bad either. “I, ah, well, I did grow up rather religious, but, well, I’m trying to leave that life behind me. I’ve had enough to do with gods for now, I think.”

Mass? What did the weight of something have to do with religion?

“Well, let me tell you, the Church of Barbados is way more fun! It’s not very popular in France, but I know some people from Germany, and you did see the Tone Deaf Bards in Eurovision, didn’t you?”

Furina gave Yennefer a pained smile and shook her head. Tone deaf bard? Hadn’t Paimon made some reference to a Tone Deaf Bard from Mondstadt? Surely it couldn’t be the same person.

“Seriously!? At least tell me you’ve heard some of their songs! No!? What kind of music do you listen to, then?”

“Ah, well, I enjoy the opera,” Furina said, wincing slightly when Yennefer gave her a disbelieving look. “It’s true! I wanted to become an opera singer!”

“Really? Can you sing?” Yennefer asked dubiously, scraping the bottom of her bowl with her spoon.

That actually offended Furina. “What?! Of course I can sing! I told you, I’m an actress! I’ve been trained by the best!” When Yennefer gave her an indulgent smile, Furina harrumped and stood up, putting one foot onto her chair. “I’ll prove it to you!”

A song came to her, a performance by a small theater troop some months back. She’d been looking forward to more from them, until their director had been one of the girls to go missing. That made Furina tear up slightly, and she closed her eyes, stretching one hand forward.

If I could only return to the water's embrace

Wouldn't the world be a lovelier place?

Dear Mother, would you be able to forgive?

Her memory of the play came back to her, and Furina felt the passion of the Little Oceanid, Cilo. How she had sacrificed herself for her people, and her lover, giving everything for the cause of justice.

As the dancing water flows, so too we would live

The city it would nourish

And you too, my dear, would flourish

The music from the past swelled within Furina’s mind, and she found herself dancing to it, easily stepping around tables and chairs as if they were a part of her stage, the flow of the dance coming naturally to her. At just the right moment, when the music swelled within her mind, she continued,

But love alone could be to no avail

Only farewell, I fear, would prevail

Thus are our lives filled with joy and sorrow

I'll be here always, forever and tomorrow

To behold the world's undying beauty

And that shall live on in perpetuity...

Sinking down as the actress on the stage had done, Furina swooned as if dying. Then she opened her eyes, feeling the wetness on her cheeks. She was that Little Oceanid. She had given her life, and the land would flourish on without her, she hoped. Was this just a final dream, the last, desperate gaspof her mind before she merged with the Primordial Sea, and was swept away?

Life is always a dream, my beloved child. But you no longer shall be swept away in its currents…

Shaking her head, Furina stood, and realized that four people were watching her. Yennefer was on her knees, her mouth open, tears running down her face, her hands clutching her breast. Ling was crying into the shoulder of her father, who was trying manfully not to cry but was dabbing at his eyes nonetheless, while another woman, a little older than Ling but with similar features, was standing with her hands over her mouth.

“Oh! Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Furina managed, blushing slightly. “I guess I got caught up in the moment.”

“That was… beautiful!” the unknown woman gushed, rushing forward and seizing Furina’s hands in her own. “You were incredible! Who taught you how to sing like that!? I’ve been training all my life, and I could never hope to match that!”

“Er, well, it’s just something I’ve been blessed with, I suppose,” Furina stammered. Had it really been that good? She had a decent enough voice, but she couldn’t help but think people usually praised her more for her supposed position than her actual talent. They loved Focalors, not Furina.

“T-that was the most incredible thing… but it was so sad!” Ling sniffed, using her apron to dab at her eyes. “I couldn’t understand the words, but your song… it was perfect!”

Oh. She had been singing in Fontainian, hadn’t she?

“It was Old French,” Yennefer rasped, still on her knees, her voice raw with emotion. She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose, her eyes glittering. “I recognized some of it, but… my God. No wonder you wish to sing at the opera!”

Slowly getting to her feet, Yennefer came over, putting one hand on Furina’s shoulder, and the other on the woman who was still clinging to her. “Julie, I’d like you to meet Furina de la Fontaine. She’s just a country girl with a dream, but… I know you’ve had some roles, surely you could help her out a little?”

“I would be the most honored woman in all the world to be able to introduce such talent,” Julie agreed, nodding her head hastily. She gave Furina a quick hug. “They will love you, Furina! I’m Julie Yu, and though I’m really only a part time actress… I think I know just the place for you!”

“Your lunch... it’s free,” Ling’s father said, his voice gruff. He put two plates on the table, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “If you’re ever hungry… come by and sing like that. We’ll have a meal for you. My niece, she’s a good singer too, you should give her some lessons.”

“I-I don’t know that I’m qualified,” Furina stammered. “But I’ll do my best!”

Ling and her father, Mao, along with Julie, ended up sitting with Furina and Yennefer as they ate, asking her excited questions that Furina had no real answers for.

Still, as she chatted and laughed with her new friends, she realized something.

These people didn’t know Focalors. They only knew Furina. But they seemed to like her anyway.

Maybe this is a role I’m cut out for after all…

Author’s Note:

This is, of course, only a preview and a draft of things to come. It will be quite a while before Furina’s storyline begins in earnest, but, well, I need to figure out what that role will be, and writing a POV chapter for her is the easiest way. Much like Nahida, Furina will be the major POV character in her own arc, largely because while Venti and Raiden’s arcs are external, Nahida and Furina’s arcs are largely internal.

PHILO (Before Editing. Still stuck at Mondstadt): She’s probably like Discount Aqua. It’s going to be a comedy for once.
PHILO (After Editing): WHEN WILL SOMEBODY HUG FURINA!?

OCTOBER: I wonder how long it’ll take Furina to catch on that the French are adding the “la” to her surname…

The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 17

Carmen Dei 17: Who Do You Say Am I?

To say that the theater was packed would have been a gross understatement. Keith briefly flirted with calling the fire marshal before something disastrous happened but decided against it. There couldn’t be anything more dangerous than having Scion himself show up, or Allfather. He’d known there were ties between American Neo-Nazi groups and the Gesellschaft, but having it so blatantly exposed was something else.

Still, the excited atmosphere was thrilling, and Keith found that he was grinning with eager anticipation. He turned to his companions and half-shouted over the crowd, “Have you seen them perform before?”

“Yeah bro!” Itul said excitedly, his deep voice easily piercing through the noise. “Me and the Tone Deaf Bards, we go way back!”

“He means they met less than a month ago,” Cookie said, sounding bored as she leaned in close to her friend, using Itul as a cushion.

“I, uh, well, that’s…I was at their first performance!” Itul defended, looking embarrassed. Then he leaned in close to Cookie and hissed, “Don’t make me look bad in front of Legend!”

“Don’t blow his cover and we’ll count it even,” Cookie said with a shrug.

The three of them were in Bremen for the final night of their concerts here; this being the first time Legend had been free to show up, and Keith was a bit disappointed he couldn’t have brought Arthur and Keith Jr. with him.

The lights finally turned down low, and the audience went silent. Keith even found himself holding his breath in anticipation. The curtains lifted, and the stage lights flicked on. Legend blinked at the sudden light, as a glitterball sprayed lights across the audience. Before he could recover, a familiar song began to play, and The Tone Deaf bards appeared in a swirl of green wind.

Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the Gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?

Late at night, I toss and I turn

And I dream of what I need

It took a moment to register, but when it did, Keith’s jaw dropped. Venti was meeting his eyes, those blazing green orbs boring into his soul. Images flashed through Keith’s mind, and he felt a dizzying sense of vertigo. Images of impossibly huge beings flashed through his head, only for someone to take his hand and give it a squeeze.

It’s alright. You’re free now. But we need to talk. After the show, of course!

“Hey. Hey, bro? You good? You need some water or something? Shit, Cookie, can you heal him or something? Keith? Legend!? Come on, man, talk to me!”

Blinking, Keith came back to himself and realized he was being held up by someone who was shaking him gently.

“I, I’m OK. Just, uh, jet lag,” Keith managed, steadying himself as both Itul and Cookie looked at him with expressions of concern on their faces.

“Right on, bro! If you need anything let me know, I snuck in some energy drinks!” Itul said, giving Keith a thumbs up and offering him a can of something that probably had enough sugar in it to give Keith diabetes.

He smiled and shook his head, but he did notice Cookie frowning at him. She probably remembered that he’d teleported in, not flown. However that still did mean that for Keith, he’d been up for far longer than a normal rest cycle…for someone who wasn’t one of the PRT’s Elite. This was just a normal day for him.

The music played on, however, and Legend lost himself in the joyful music along with the crowd. It felt like for just a few hours, he really was just Keith, and not Legend the Hero. He cheered, he sang, and he cried when they played Halleluiah. It was a roller coaster of emotions, and the best concert Legend had ever been to, bar none.

“Thank you for being a wonderful audience!” Venti called, waving to the crowd. “This is our last night in Bremen! But don’t worry, you’ll find the Tone Deaf Bards wherever the wind may roam! Good night, everybody!” Venti called, and the crowd cheered wildly. Then he looked up, met Keith’s eyes, and winked at him, and walked off stage.

Clearing his throat, Keith asked Itul and Cookie, “So, any idea where Venti might be heading off too?”

“”The bar,”” they said together.

A short while later, Keith walked into a bar across town. He’d considered coming as Legend, but that didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right. His powers were…quiet. He was tempted to fire off a few test blasts to see if they even worked, but he’d flown all the way here, and he was clearly still a parahuman. Something was just off, and he couldn’t tell what.

Behind him, Cookie and Itul were panting for breath as they stumbled in, and Keith turned around, smiling somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I pushed things a little hard.”

“Hey, no problemo, compadre,” Itul wheezed, clutching his side. “I’m Itul ‘Runs a Marathon and Asks for More’ Armbust. Little jog like that? Pfff, that’s nothin’!”

“Speak for yourself, I’m horribly out of shape,” Cookie groaned. She lifted up her sweater, showing a slightly flabby belly and pinched it, making a face. “I’ve really let myself go to seed. Gonna have to get back to training…”

“We can hit the gym together bro!” Itul said excitedly, flexing his admittedly impressive muscles. If Keith were a few years younger and single…well, let’s just say that he was pretty sure Itul would be very popular with Legend’s own fan demographic.

“Are you kidding?! I could barely keep up with you BEFORE you got your powers, and that was WITH my Vision! Now you toss around half ton weights like it’s nothing!” Cookie grumbled. “Ugh, anyway, this is where Venti probably is. Now, I gotta get out of here, before he finds me and-”

“Cookie!” a merry voice laughed, and the bard himself popped up behind Cookie, wrapping her in a hug as she stiffened. “Glad you could make it to the show! How’s about treating your favorite band to a few drinks as a thank you, eh?”

“-makes me pick up his bar tab,” Cookie sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine, fine. I guess I can deduct it from that payout I promised. But we still haven’t gotten the Genius Invocation Cards to print! Hasn’t even been a month yet.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to that, more games would be fun!” Venti chuckled. He raised a fist to Itul. “And lookie here! The Red Oni is in the house! Whattup, my man!”

“Yo! Rockin’ show tonight, Lil Green!” Itul said enthusiastically, giving Venit a fist bump. “Oh yeah! This is my new buddy, Le-”

“Keith!” Venti said excitedly, coming forward. Keith extended his hand, but Venti just brushed that aside and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s alright. You're free now. You can lay that burden down, Keith. You don’t have to be the Legend for me.”

Tears welled up in Keith’s eyes, and his knees buckled slightly as he rested his head on Venti’s shoulders. “I…I didn’t…I don’t…”

He found himself crying, and the next thing he knew, he was at a booth in the back corner of the bar, his favorite cocktail, a cosmopolitan, in his hands as Venti sipped at a tankard of beer. Keith blinked the tears from his eyes, then blew his nose on a napkin. “I didn’t even realize I’ve been holding that in…what…what did you do to me?”

“What I could. Did you know what you had inside of your head?” Venti asked curiously, pointing to his own skull.

Keith froze, his drink halfway to his lips. He knew perfectly well what the source of his powers were, having been one of the first to get a Cauldron Vial. He’d been a homeless youth, kicked out of his home for his sexuality at the age of 18, and he’d been living rough on the streets of New York for months before he’d been offered a chance to be something more than a bum.

“I… know that’s where the Corona Pollentia is, but… I still have my powers,” he said slowly.

“Hmm, I see. Well, obviously, I didn’t take away your powers,” Venti said with a chuckle. “And to think, this time, Scion didn’t even stop by to say hi!”

“You speak to Scion often?” Legend managed, giving Venti a smile as cold sweat trickled down his back. “He’s, well, I don’t manage to talk to him often, but he’s the greatest hero alive, after all.”

“Mm, personally, I think Raiden probably has him beat. That giant fish wasn’t the first monster she’s slain!” Venti said cheerily, slamming his mug down. “Another beer!”

The bartender came over with another drink for Venti, and Keith hastily ordered some food, something to give him time to think without impairing his reflexes or senses. He didn’t have any powers that would help me burn off the alcohol, not without transforming into his breaker state.

“You, uh, know Raiden?” Keith managed nervously. “We were wondering about that little…confrontation… that the two of you had.”

“Ah, well, the first time I met her, I found her and her sister bathing in the hot springs together! Me and Morax- ah, well, story for another time!” Venti said with a dismissive laugh. “So, what brings you all the way from America?”

Despite himself, Keith took a long pull from his cocktail, searching for what to say. “You…know who I am?”

“A bit,” Venti said, leaning on the table. He dipped his finger in the beer, then used it to trace an odd shape on the table. “I'm still new around here, still, trying to pick things up, but even I couldn’t miss the Legend of the Protectorate visiting little old me!”

“About that…” taking a deep breath, Legend met Venti’s eyes. “Who, exactly, are you?”

“To quote a famous man… who do you say I am?” Venti retorted.

For a moment, Legend didn’t get the reference. Then something he’d heard in church as a child clicked.

“You are the Messiah,” he muttered before he could stop himself. “That’s…in the Bible.”

“Yep! In all of the Gospels but John, actually,” Venti said with a nod. “But no, I am not the Jewish Messiah, as Naomi will happily tell you, nor am I the Christian God. But still, you haven’t answered my question. Who do you say I am, Keith Nathan Andrews, known as Legend?”

Swallowing, Keith took another drink. Finally, he met Venti’s eyes again. “You are… something I do not understand.”

“Ha ha! Well, I suppose that makes you the wisest of the PRT, eh?” Venti said, raising his stein in salute. He took another long pull as Keith forced himself not to fidget. “Let me tell you a story, Keith.”

“Uh, sure,” Keith agreed, smiling at the waitress as she brought over a platter of schnitzel and dipping sauce, along with yet another beer for Venti.

“Thank you, my dear!” Venti said, and plunked a cord on his lyre. That caused Keith to do a double-take. Where had Venti gotten a lyre from? And, how had he changed clothes into that old-fashioned green ensemble?

“Once, there was a far away land, a land of seven nations that lived in relative peace and harmony. The furthest east of these lands was known as the land of Freedom, and it was a place blessed by the winds,” Venti began, plucking away at his harp.

“It was a land of song and wine, and there, a lonesome bard plied his trade! He wandered the land, playing to the people, bringing them joy with song and verse. What was his name? Ah, perhaps only the wind remembers!”

“One day, after entertaining the people of the city, the bard fell asleep at the church, and dreamed of a distant land. When he awoke, he found himself in a distant land! How to get home? The bard wasn’t sure, but this too, was a windy land, and it reminded the bard of home.”

“He set out once more, learning new songs, making new friends, and singing to the people! However, one day, he noticed a child crying, lost and afraid. ‘What’s wrong, my young friend? Where are your parents?’ the bard asked.”

“They’ve been taken away to be fed to the dragon,’ the boy said, tears dribbling down his face.”

“A dragon? I have heard tell of this dragon, was it not defeated long ago?’ the bard asked.”

“The boy nodded, but he still wept. ‘Yes, but monsters have begun to attack the land, and none of our heroes could defeat them! In our desperation, we called upon the dragon to save us! But dragons are greedy creatures, and the dragon demanded tribute. And so, my parents were chosen to be fed to the dragon, and I fear that one day, I am next.’”

“Taking pity on the boy, the bard attempted to dry his tears. ‘Worry not! I’ll sing you a song, and I’ll drive the dragon away, and save your parents!’”

“‘But sir, if we do not serve the dragon, the monsters will destroy us, or the dragon will! What can we do?’”

“‘Call upon the wind,’ the bard told him. ‘I will defend your lands.’”

“And so, the bard gathered a band of heroes, and set off to face both the monster and the dragon! The monsters were tricky, but some listened to the bard's song, and gave up their evil ways, shedding the form of monsters and becoming men once more.”

Venti’s playing trailed off, and Keith found he was hanging on the bard’s every word. He blinked, sitting up. “Well? What happened next? What about the dragon, or these monsters that the bard freed?”

“Why don’t you ask yourself that, Keith,” Venti said quietly. He nodded behind them. “And there’s someone else who wants to speak to you.”

Keith turned around in the booth, and spied a nervous looking woman and man, who were holding hands and fidgeting.

“Um, hello,” the woman said, giving a nervous wave with her free hand. She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, with dark blonde hair drawn back into a loose ponytail, and a modest blouse and dress. “Venti said…Venti said that someone would be here to… here to…”

“We’re looking for, um, Legend,” the man said, looking around, sweat beading on his forehead. He had messy light brown hair, and dark circles under his eyes. Actually, the girl did too, though she was hiding it with some light make up.

“I think you three have a lot to discuss,” Venti said, standing up. He put a hand on Legend’s shoulder. “Remember, not all the monsters were saved, but for the ones that were…perhaps they can be forgiven, for doing the dragon’s bidding.”

“What?” Keith asked, completely baffled, but Venti walked off to go sit at the bar with Cookie and Itul, who were laughing and drinking with his bandmates.

“Are you…?” the woman asked nervously, looking to her companion. “Geoff, do you think he’s…?”

“Venti said to talk to him, so, even if he’s not Legend…he sounds American,” Geoff said with a shrug. The two of them took a seat across from Keith, still looking incredibly nervous.

“Do I know you two?” Keith asked, wracking his brains, but for the life of him, he couldn’t place them. The voices niggled something, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“I am…Dorothy Schmidt. This is…Geoff. Um, we are married, but…”

“We’re still figuring that out,” Geoff admitted, but he gave Dorothy a tender smile, and she blushed heavily.

“Uh, congratulations,” Keith offered, still confused. “I’m not sure-”

“You…might know us by another name,” Dorothy continued, looking down, shame filling her voice and eyes. “I was… Nacht…or Night.”

“I was Nebel, you probably would have called me Fog,” Geoff agreed, trying and failing to meet Legend’s eyes.

At the first mention of Nacht, Legend was sitting up, one hand pointing at each of them as he drew power into his hands. He knew these two. He’d fought them once before, when the Empire 88 had clashed with the Protectorate and Armsmaster had been wounded badly enough he’d been forced to call for backup. They were utter monsters.

But some listened to the bard’s song, and gave up their evil ways…

“If… if that’s what you decide,” Geoff closed his eyes, and gently pushed Dorothy to the side. “It was my fault. I… I was in on it. I forced Dorothy to-”

“Geoff!” Dorothy cried, and she grabbed her husband. “No! That’s a lie! We were both kidnapped, brainwashed, we… I know… we did so many horrible things, but whatever happens to Geoff, I deserve it too!”

“Dorothy, please,” Geoff begged, taking her hands, tears trickling down his cheeks. “I… I can’t… I can’t see you die. If he’s going to punish us, let me take it. I’m just really getting to know you, but I think-”

Letting out a strangled sob, Dorothy pulled Geoff into a hug. “I know! I’m starting to think… I might…  but what we did… we both deserve to die…”

Slowly, Legend lowered his hands, letting his power fade, his brow creasing as he looked at the two broken people before him. “You said… you were Nacht und Nebel. What changed?”

Starting, they both looked over at Legend, and said one word. “Venti.”

“I see,” Legend agreed, nodding once. “Tell me.”

“It was the music,” Dorothy whispered, tears once more filling her eyes, but instead of sorrow, her face held one of awe and joy. “And his eyes… He saw me.”

“I had lost my faith, before the Gesellschaft had tortured me, even. I’d gone to church as a boy, but…” Geoff leaned forward, his eyes shining with passion. “He’s real! God is real, and he’s right over there!”

“God really is one of us,” Dorothy agreed, her own gaze locking on Venti, who currently appeared to be having a belching contest with Itul. “But… He’s not a sinner like we are.”

“No,” Geoff agreed, nodding. “He forgave us. But… that doesn’t mean our sins didn’t happen… and… and we understand…”

“We want to make it right,” Dorothy agreed quietly, meeting Legend’s eyes, and to his shock, he found courage and resolve there. “So, if you need to arrest us, or even kill us… we understand.”

“Just, please… spare Dorothy? She’s the only beautiful thing that happened to me when I was… after I… well. While I was a monster.”

Legend looked back and forth between the two villainous capes. No… the former villains. “I see. You know, there are other former villains working for the PRT. I think the Meisters have a similar policy.”

“But you know what we did!” Dorothy said, her face distorting as horror gripped it. “Those children, those families…”

“We… we hurt your friends. Helped kill some of them. Especially… if they…” Geoff swallowed. “I can remember hating people because they were gay, but… I don’t understand why now…”

Legend closed his eyes, and Keith let out a long, slow breath. “I… can understand. Venti did something to me too.”

“Then you understand! He’s Lord Barbados!” Dorothy said eagerly, grabbing Keith’s hand, and he managed not to pull away. “He’s the God of Freedom! He’s come to save us!”

Keith looked over at Venti, who was now draining mug after mug of beer with Itul as an exasperated Cookie looked at a stopwatch. Naomi was laughing, while Capri seemed to be trying to hide her face in embarrassment. He turned back to Geoff and Dorothy. “You really think he’s a god?”

They both nodded solemnly. Keith let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sold on that. But as to you two… what was that line again?”

“Be free?” Dorothy guessed.

“Go, and sin no more,” Geoff said solemnly, and his wife nodded emphatically.

“That one,” Keith agreed. He stood, and pulled out a hundred Euro note, tossing it onto the table. “Tell Venti at least a few of his drinks are on me.”

The couple stood, clinging to one another, and Keith could see Dorothy was trembling slightly, while only Geoff’s lip quivered as he tried to be brave. “What about us?”

“If Night and Fog were here, I’d arrest them, or call the Meisters to do so.” The closed their eyes and nodded, but Keith held up a hand. “I said if Night and Fog are here. You’re not Night and Fog, are you?”

“No,” Dorothy said, shaking her head. She bit her lip, looking around nervously. “I, um… well, we should go outside.”

Keith nodded, and they went out the back of the bar into an alley.

“Our powers have changed,” Geoff explained. “I can turn into mist still, but I’m not hungry. I can sort of fly, and my powers work better in sunlight, but I think…”

“He heals people now!” Dorothy said excitedly, taking her husbands arm and beaming. “We were at the hospital today! He can’t cure cancer, but he can help with lung problems, heal wounds, it’s amazing!”

“Really?” Keith asked, shocked. “Are you certain?”

“The doctors said so, and, well, I told them I’d come every day I could,” Geoff said, rubbing the back of his head nervously. Then he grinned. “But Dorothy! You should see her now!”

“Um, i-if you don’t think I’ll scare anyone,” Dorothy said, biting her lip and looking shyly at Legend.

“I fought you before. Can’t your powers only work if no one is watching?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“Not anymore. She’s beautiful. Show him, Dorothy,” Geoff encouraged.

She nodded, and stepped back. “Um, would you mind turning around? I… if I do it with my clothes on, they rip.”

“Sure,” Keith agreed, turning his back, and Geoff did the same.

“Um, I-I don’t mind if you watch, Geoff…” Dorothy said nervously.

“A-are you sure?” Geoff asked, blushing furiously, and Keith had to fight back a grin. They were like a couple of love sick kids.

“Y-yes… it’s easier… if you do watch…”

Geoff turned back around, but Legend closed his eyes politely. After a few moments, he heard the rustle of fabric, and then Geoff stepped forward, helping his wife undress.

“Ok, I’m ready. Um, you’re gay, so, uh, it’s not as lewd…”

“If you’re certain?” Keith asked, not bothering to fight the smile anymore. “I might not be into the ladies, but I understand if you don’t want me to see you.”

“N-no, uh, I’m covering myself,” Dorothy assured him.

Keith turned, and he found Dorothy with one arm wrapped over her breasts, the other her groin, mostly preserving her modestly. “Before Venti, I couldn’t transform if anyone was watching. Couldn’t control it, actually. I would do it automatically, I couldn’t… if Geoff fell asleep in the same room, I’d have ripped him apart. I slept locked in the basement…”

“It’s alright,” Keith said gently. “But, now you can transform with others watching?”

Dorothy nodded, and closing her eyes, she relaxed. White tendrils wrapped themselves around her like a great cocoon, and mere moments later, a great moth, with fuzzy green wings that had the anemo symbol on them. The moth fluttered her wings, hovering in mid air, about the size that Dorothy had been.

“She can’t talk like this,” Geoff explained, coming over to gently rub the moth's head between her two great faceted eyes. “But she can fly, and when she flaps her wings, she can send out gusts of wind! Isn’t she amazing, though? Like a great emerald beauty!”

“It is… something else,” Keith said, shaking his head slowly. He didn’t understand any of this. He was going to have a long debrief when he got back home.

He glanced back at the bar, then shook his head. He turned to Dorothy, who was still fluttering in place, the alley barely large enough for her wingspan. “I don’t see Night and Fog. Instead…hmmm. What do you call yourselves now?”

“Venti said she was Evening,” Geoff said, giving Keith a nervous grin. “And I’m…Mist.”

“Evening Mist,” Keith mused. “It’s almost poetic. Fitting. Well. I see no reason to arrest the Evening Mist.” He floated up into the air. “I’ve been given a lot to think about, and learned a fair bit. Good luck to you both. I think we’ll see each other again.”

With that, Keith took off into the sky, and turned towards New York. He stayed subsonic until he was out of the city, then poured on the speed. To his shock, he never transformed into energy, and he was slightly slower than he had once been, maxing out at several times the speed of sound instead of continuing to accelerate. A glowing barrier formed around him, slicing through the air and keeping himself from being torn apart by the winds, and Keith knew something for certain:

Whatever had happened, the world was no more the same after Venti’s arrival than it had been after Raiden’s.

Last Drop of Hope, Chapter 19

An alarm blared, and Kazuma jolted awake, screaming in panic. For a few seconds, he struggled against the bunk restraints, until he remembered where he was and managed to fumble at them enough to get them off. He didn’t waste time rubbing his bruised shoulders, and instead pushed himself through the corridors towards the cockpit.

“What’s going on?” he gasped, looking out the viewscreen. Belzerg was dead ahead of them, completely covering their field of view. “Did they find us!?”

“They found us 15 minutes ago, but it doesn’t fucking matter!” Lan shouted back. “Now strap yourself in, we hit atmo in less than a minute!”

“What!? How long was I out?!” Kazuma gasped, his groggy mind trying to catch up.

“Less than an hour,” Alice said, grabbing Kazuma’s hand from behind. “Come on, Big Bro! Leave the pilot to her work!”

“But if they found us, we need another illusion, we need-”

“They’re five minutes out and that bucking your feeling is us hitting atmo so the fuckers can kiss my exhaust! Get out of here!” Lan ordered, and Kazuma was yanked away to the hold against his will. Despite the fact that Alice looked like she weighed maybe 40 kilos, she was certainly far stronger than Kazuma was.

He found Dust and Rin in the back, holding hands and looking grim, while Lolisa watched Alice strap Kazuma in anxiously.

“How are you feeling? You were getting close to Mind Down,” Lolisa asked urgently, leaning towards Kazuma in her straps.

“Groggy, but OK I guess,” Kazuma muttered as the ship began to vibrate and buckle. Gravity began to reassert its hold on him, and he felt his stomach leap up into his throat.

Alice just took her seat grimly, and Kazuma noticed she was wearing her power armor again. “What, do we expect to be boarded?”

“No, but Lan says to expect hostile fliers. And aerial combat is not my forte,” Alice told him.

“Should we like, man the turrets or something?” Kazuma asked hesitantly.

Dust snorted. “We have a gatling gun we can use to shoot out the hatch, but we’re a smuggler, not a fighter. I wanted to put some cannons on this baby, but, well, I couldn’t afford it.”

“And it would have ruined the stealth,” Rin said in exasperation. Then she let out a squawk along with Kazuma as the ship shuddered violently.

“It’s fine, people, but it’s a furball down there,” Lan’s voice said over the intercom. “There’s a massive air battle going on between ShopWiz, NyteTech, and Santomon.”

“Who’s winning?” Kazuma asked, wincing at the news.

“Right now? ShopWiz is getting bent over. Wiz never did want to spend as much to stay on top of the light combat stuff,” Lan said with a heavy sigh. “But we’ll make it to the ground, at least. Just in time for- SHIT!”

This time the jolt was so violent that Kazuma tasted blood, and the ship spun violently for long enough that he blacked out for a few moments. When he came to, alarms were blaring, and wind was ripping through the ship. There was smoke everywhere, and Kazuma’s eyes burned and watered as he gasped for breath.

He didn’t have long to think, however, as someone grabbed him, pulling him close into a soft and warm embrace. “I got him!”

“I have the others, get out!” Alice’s voice shouted, and a chill went down Kazuma’s spine as he realized it was Lolisa holding him.

“Hang on!” Lolisa urged when Kazuma started to squirm. “We’re bailing out!”

He didn’t have time to contemplate that further as he was rushed through the smoke, then out the back of the ship. He wrapped his arms around Lolisa in a panic, causing her to gasp in pain. “Not so tight! My wings!”

Blinking, Kazuma loosened his hold, watching as Lolisa’s tiny wings flapped frantically. They didn’t look large enough to allow them to fly, but somehow she was slowing them as they went towards the ground below. As Kazuma looked, there was a loud boom and a bright flash, as the burning wreck of the Faitifore smashed into the upper level of the city, punching a hole into it and tumbling down into the darkness of the undercity.

Even as Lolisa strained to slow their descent, Kazuma took a moment to look around him. The gray, smog filled air was even more stained than usual as the city around him burned. Above them, shapes flitted through the smoke, and explosions and flashes of light filled the air as the air war raged. Below and all around them, there were the sharp reports of rifle fire, the hiss of lasers, and the deep thunder of artillery.

“Aim for the hole!”

Looking directly above them, Kazuma saw Alice, the thrusters of her armors jet pack roaring at full capacity, a frantic Dust and Rin clinging to her, as an unconscious and bleeding Lan lay in Alice’s arms.

“Y-yes ma’am,” Lolisa gasped, her wings fluttering madly, but Kazuma didn’t think she’d be able to keep it up, and the thrusters on power armor didn’t last all that long. Frantically, he dug into his pockets, pulling out  his Adventurer’s card. “Come on, come on, come on…there!”

He stabbed his finger down, and knowledge and power rushed through him. “Feather Fall!”

He nearly lost his lunch as he and Lolisa zipped upward, her efforts to keep them aloft now allowing them to easily stay up. He did slap Alice as he went past, casting another spell. He would have tried again, but he felt suddenly woozy, the world spinning as energy drained out of him.

“Oh shit! Kazuma!? Kazuma!?” Lolisa’s voice called, as if through a distant tunnel, but Kazuma couldn’t hear her. Blackness enveloped him, then something warm press itself to his lips, and energy flowed into him.

He gasped, and found himself staring into Lolisa’s frantic eyes, her lips pressing against his in a frantic kiss. She hastily pulled back, blushing and looking guilty. “I’m sorry! It’s the only way I know how to transfer mana!”

“It’s…OK,” Kazuma said groggily, though he was feeling a lot better. “Guess I pushed it too far…”

“Here, we’re almost-” Lolisa stopped and grunted as they hit the ground in the blackness of the undercity, which was lit only by the light of the burning wreck of the Faitifore.

“We made it,” Kazuma croaked, leaning his head back in exhaustion. Lolisa slumped against him as well, her wings drooping as she panted, both of them simply happy to be alive.

Then the wreck exploded, debris spraying everywhere, and Kazuma and Lolisa both screamed and clung to one another.

“ENOUGH!” a deep, echoing voice bellowed, as a monstrous dark figure clambered out rom under the rubble thrown about by the crashed ship. “Who DARES interrupt my duel?!”

Slowly, the hulking cyborg turned, red eyes piercing the darkness as they locked on to Kazuma and Lolisa, who were frozen in fear. “What’s this? A succubus? And a human? Well, I suppose every battlefield has its scavengers. Enjoy your meal, demon. Perhaps I shall have work for you later.”

Lolisa shuddered, pushing Kazuma up to his feet, and staggering to hers. “Um, t-thank you, General Beldia, I was just…um, this human, he has mana, and it’s been so very long…”

“I understand,” Beldia said magnanimously. He turned his back to them. “Enjoy. I have a Crusader to fight.”

Crusader? Kazuma’s mind was reeling, uncertain of what was happening.

“Wait…” Belida turned back around, his eyes narrowing as the head floated in the cracked tank. “You came from the ship. And I do sense mana from this boy. What are you…never mind. I’m afraid you’ll both simply have to die. Easier to interrogate a corpse.”

“BELDIA! STAND AND FACE JUDGMENT, TRAITOR!”

The general froze for just an instant, and Kazuma thought he saw fear in the CEOs eyes. Then he spun, his blade whipping into a low guard position as he crouched down.

“It cannot be,” Beldia gasped, his machine body shuddering and trembling. “Not just a high noble, that voice-”

From atop the still burning Faitifore, a figure emerged, clad in armor and wreathed in flames. Blue eyes that shone with righteous rage locked onto Beldia, blonde hair whipping behind her in the wind. “Beldia, once known as the Knight Verdia, formerly of the kingdom of Belzerg! You betrayed humanity itself, turning your back upon mankind, and embracing evil! For your sins, there can be no forgiveness!”

“Sins?! Who dares judge me?!” Beldia roared, standing up straight and pointing his sword back at Alice. “None who now live have the right!”

Leaping from atop the ship, Alice landed in a cloud of dust, her machete drawn and held at the ready. “I am Iris Stylish Sword Belzerg! And I claim the right of the Crown to render judgment upon you, traitor! By the honor of my name and the sovereignty of my crown, I sentence you, Beldia the Dullahan, to Death!”

Beldia leaned back, his head looking up towards the ceiling as he laughed. “You! You claim to be queen? A child, who was absent from her lands for how long? Your ancestors were more powerful than you, girl, and fled before me! They could not judge me, and neither can you!”

“I have one advantage they did not,” Alice, no, Iris? Snarled.

“And what is that?” Beldia demanded, his tone dripping condescension.

Alice drew something from behind her back. “A gatling gun with anti-material rounds.” The deafening roar that followed and the blinding flash of light had both Kazuma and Lolisa diving desperately for cover.

After what felt like an eternity, the sudden silence and stillness was utterly unnerving to Megumin. She looked up from where she was crouched over the Aqua, who was shivering in the now ankle deep water and looking small and frightened.

“I-it finally stopped?” Aqua whimpered, hugging herself and looking around.

“No,” Megumin said grimly, lowering the visor of her helmet. “It has just begun. Bull Frog’s Strength!”

“Hoost says we got bad guys comin’ in!” Komekko declared, flicking the safety off of her pistol.

“Watch the exit!” one of the soldiers called.

“No,” Yunyun said quietly, her eyes flicking between the air vents. “They’re blackhats. They won’t come in the doors.”

“Hoost says they got a sonic drill,” Komekko said, and pointed to a section of the ceiling. “There.”

“Right. You hold here, I’ll deal with them up top,” Megumin declared, and headed for the hatch. She heard splashes behind her, and saw Yunyun hurrying along. “I said you-”

“I’m not letting my little sister go alone,” Yunyun said firmly, her stutter vanishing as her eyes began to glow a sinister shade of crimson. “I’m a Crimson Demon too, remember?”

“Fine, but you better stay and protect Aqua, Komekko!” Megumin ordered. The littlest demon nodded, putting herself between Aqua and where she knew the drill would come down.

Together, Yunyun and Megumin raced up the steps towards the hatch to the surface.

“They’ll have it guarded,” Megumin said grimly, gripping Gram in both hands.

“Obviously. I have a solution for that,” Yunyun sniffed, raising a hand from which inky shadows dripped.

“Oh? They’ll have infrared and LIDAR,” Megumin pointed out as they reached the exit hatch.

“And I have a spell that only Crimson Demons can see through. Wiz had it in one of her Grimores, and it only requires Intermediate Magic,” Yunyun stated.

Megumin nodded slowly. “Have you tested it?”

“No. But it’s the best shot we have,” Yunyun said with a fierce smile. “Ready?”

Megumin nodded, and they popped the hatch.

“CONSUMING SHADOWS!” Yunyun cried, and a black mist spread out of the open hatch, completely filling the air. To Megumin, it just looked slightly opaque, not even as hard to see through as smoke or fog. However, the blackhats began to fire wildly, and she grinned. Apparently, they couldn’t see through it at all.

“ZEPHYR STEP!” With her sword raised to a high guard, Megumin blasted out of the bunker, several rounds pinging off her armor. The rounds didn’t penetrate, and she was too hyped up for the pain to even register. She swept towards the first three man squad, who clearly couldn’t see her coming, dodging out of their stream of fire, then coming in from the side. The first two went down before they even knew she was there, her sword carving through the high tech metal with little resistance. The last one swung their weapon around, firing blindly, but Megumin’s sword swept up from groin to left armpit, and they went down in a spray of gore.

Yunyun hadn’t sat quietly in the tunnel as lightning struck underground, blasting two blackhats off their feet. They struggled to rise despite their suit’s built in insulation, and Yunyun picked them off with a green crescent of solid elemental energy, the Wind Blade cutting through the first layer of their armor and into flesh and bone.

There were dozens of blackhats though, and despite the obscuring fog, there were enough of them that they were still a real hazard. A few of them also seemed to decide that friendly fire was worth it to take out their foes, and started tossing around grenades like they were on clearance. One blast knocked Megumin off her feet with a wail, as while Zephyr step did increase her speed, it seemed to make her vulnerable to unstable footing.

Forcing herself back up with a snarl, Megumin zigzagged around more blasts, clashing with another squad of blackhats. The spell Yunyun had cast seemed to be wearing off, but they still struggled to locate her, and even their drug enhanced and carved reflexes couldn’t keep up with the layed buffs Megumin had on her. Snarling with fury, she felt Gram take more lives, and took a deep satisfaction in it. These were the monsters that had hunted her people for generations. Vengeance was hers, and it tasted like iron and death.

There was a sudden scream as Megumin finished off her latest target, and her head whipped around. Yunyun blasted a blackhat off their feet with a fireball, but her left arm was dangling and mangled, blood splattering her robes, a mask of pain and rage on her face.

“NO!” the winds carried Megumin across the field, and they whispered of death. She took out two blackhats that targeted Yunyun, her sword meeting little resistance, but then her blade rang with a peal like a great temple bell as one blackhat raised a dark sword to meet hers.

Her foe looked up, and their helmet was emblazoned with a death’s head. The rage drained away, and Megumin felt only the miasma of horror and dread.

“Crimson Demons…” a dry voice rasped like the call of the grave. “Strange that you have taken up the blade. No matter. Today, you join me in death.”

“FUCK OFF!” Megumin screamed, jumping back, and attacking again from another angle. Her assault was fruitless, but Yunyun launched a bolt of flames at the Death Knight’s back.

Megumin grinned in triumph, then gasped in horror as the flames splashed off as if they were nothing but smoke.

“Intermediate Magic. Weak. Let me show you a true spell,” the Death Knight hissed. It raised its off hand, which pulsed with a sickly green light. “DEATH COIL!”

It had been ages since Beldia had seen a Belzerg take the field of battle. He had not participated in the Fall of Eris, where the last King had battled Sylvia, and fallen. It seemed that time dimmed even his memory, because while he remembered the power and mastery, he had forgotten something.

He had learned the ways of war.

Belzergs were born for it.

The initial assault from the gatling gun had caught him entirely by surprise. He’d expected an assault with high end magic, powerful artifacts, and ferocious strength. What he hadn’t expected was that this supposed queen would deny his attempts to close with her at every opportunity. The one disadvantage his current mechanic body held was that it was slow. It was durable, yes, moreso than even his long rotted and decayed physical body had ever been, but all the armor and metal didn’t make him a speed demon. Sure, he could run faster than most men, faster even than a blackhat at a sprint, but he couldn’t outpace a Belzerg.

The infuriating little girl used every advantage that her void designed power armor gave her, namely its mobility. She flew away with her jetpack, taking up positions on buildings or piles of rubble and hosing Beldia down with her gun, then retreating when he attempted to get close to her. When he tried to fall back, she turned out to have a variety of grenades, which she used to harry him out of hiding, lest he get backed into a corner.

While his armor was tough, nearly unbreakable, it wasn’t invulnerable. He was wearing down, and slowing down, and his one weakness was that he lacked any sort of meaningful ranged attacks.

What he did not lack for was dead bodies. Which meant he did have a stream of disposable minions. He raised up the corpses of his forces and sent them at the Belzerg, but he knew it was little more than a stalling tactic. The best he could hope to raise was a Death Knight, but he didn’t have the time and ritual materials to make sure that happened. Instead, he mostly got zombies, ghouls, wrights, and occasionally something nastier like an allip.

They were all swatted aside by the Belzerg’s guns, or her bare fists if they actually got close enough to bother her. It was extremely unlikely that low level undead could have damaged the girl if she were naked and unarmed: Belzergs were weaned on dragon's blood and manticore milk, and cut their teeth on griffin eggs and harpy hearts. This girl wasn’t the most intimidating example of that blood line that Beldia had seen, but she was a canny one.

Eventually, however, the girl ran out of ammo, and she discarded her weapon without a second though. However, the multiple wrecked vehicles provided her with new options, and Beldia soon found himself weathering plasma blasts and even the main gun of a hover tank, the little girl ripping the turret off its mount and wielding it like a rifle despite how comically oversized it was compared to her.

That was when something gave way, and the Ice Dragon’s Crystal Heart cracked at last. Beldia’s head topped out onto the floor, and his body fell over, apparently useless.

Grimly, the girl drew a dark blade and closed on him.

Which, of course, was exactly what Belida had intended. If she’d stayed back and continued to fire at him from afar, he might have been in serious danger, though it was questionable if even a plasma cannon could do him in.

Come to me, Belida willed. Rise! Rise and bear your burden once more!

“Now you die, traitor! For the blood of my brother, Jatice! For the blood of my mother, Alice! For the blood of my brother, Ka…Kazu…”

The Belzerg stumbled, going to one knee, clutching her head in one hand. That was when Belida struck, as his armor exploded into ricocheting shards of adamantium, and the skeletal form of his ancient body burst forth, taking up its head and swinging its black blade.

Of course, even whatever was wrong with the girl wasn’t enough to actually completely incapacitate her, and her sword rose to meet Beldia’s. He expected a strong parry, so he was not ready when his blade sheared through hers to his utter astonishment. That was all that saved the girl, as she danced away, back out of his reach.

“Oh no, not now, my dear,” Beldia chuckled, and extended his hand. Grasping tendrils of darkness shot out, pulling the girl back towards him. “There’s no running away now.”

He raised his sword, even as the Belzerg snarled her defiance. Just like so many of her ancestors had.

Before the vile verdant missile could strike Megumin, the ground under her feet erupted. She was knocked backwards in a spray of water as the concealing darkness vanished, and a beam of sunlight pierced the cracked ceiling overhead to illuminate the battlefield. The Death Knight let out a wail, then its armor crumpled, a wisp of spirit rising up from the body.

“STOP FIGHTING!”

All the blackhats present froze, looking up as Aqua stood atop a geyser, glaring down at them.

“Why are you all fighting!? You’re all mortal! You’re all people! You’re following a stinky undead, don’t you realize that!?”

“Aqua!? No!” Megumin gasped, struggling up to her feet. She raced over to Yunyun, but her sister stood, a look of shock on her face as she flexed her left hand. Her wounds had been washed away, not even leaving a scar.

“That’s the target! Seize her!” one of the blackhats shouted, pointing at Aqua. Several stepped forward, water lapping at their boots, their weapons raised.

“Sir! What’s that?!” another called, and several whirled, their weapons raised.

A massive horde of shambling corpses, some of them NyteTech, others ShopWiz, came forward in an endless wave. A mixed group of both NyteTech and ShopWiz forces were running ahead of them, panicked looks on their faces. One straggler, a NyteTech blackhat, was limping along, his armor damaged, unable to keep up. The undead wave had nearly caught him, and swearing, he turned, firing wildly. He was brought down by a dozen zombies, disappearing under endless ranks of the dead.

“Beldia,” Aqua snarled, her fists balling in anger. “How could you do this!?”

“Sir, what do we do!?” one of the blackhats cried, and Megumin turned towards them, readying her blade.

“Wait,” Yunyun said gently, putting a hand on Megumin’s shoulder.

“Why!? We can take them, then escape with Aqua!” Megumin protested.

Slowly, Yunyun shook her head. “I don’t think we’ll have to…”

“Enough! I’m sick and tired of this! The dead deserve their rest!” Aqua raised both hands over her head, her face purple with anger. “SACRED TURN UNDEAD!”

A wave of brilliant blue light sprang forth from Aqua, washing over the battlefield. Wherever it touched the undead, their bodies dissolved into dust, their armor and weapons clattering to the cavern floor.

With a moan, Aqua suddenly toppled over, and Megumin had to leap through the air to catch her. She landed with a heavy splash, Aqua cradled in her arms. “Aqua!? Aqua?! Please tell me you’re ok!”

“Sleep now, need prayers,” Aqua mumbled. “Nap time.”

Then the useless idiot started snoring, right in the middle of a battlefield! Megumin looked around, clutching Aqua to her, realizing she was surrounded by enemy blackhats.

“The…that water,” one of them mumbled, and her gun slipped from her fingers, clattering to the ground.

Another blackhat ripped their helmet off, kneeling in the mud not far from Megumin. Gingerly, the elf reached down, caressing a flower that was rapidly growing in the new stream bank. “It’s…it’s real. And…and it’s healthy…I can…I can hear its song…”

Another blackhat slowly bent over, sucking down a long gulp of the spring water. He looked up at the sky, blinking in shock. “It tastes…good. I’ve never…not even the best wine or whiskey…it’s the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“She is Aqua!”

Megumin nearly jumped out of her skin as Yunyun jumped up atop a pile of rubble, pointing down at the slumbering Goddess. “Last of the gods, the only hope for this world! Would you sell her out for money!? Look at this! She is giving you water and life, for free. When would NyteTech ever do that?!”

“Sorry, girlie,” one blackhat said, raising his weapon. “But the pay is too-”

Three of his comrades' rifles barked at once, and he went down in a spray of blood.

“Fuck off,” one of the killers growled. “No amount of money could buy this. And the boss just sold us up the river. You saw those walking corpses! Re-life tech my ass, that’s a zombie virus, and she just stopped it!”

“It can’t be that simple,” Megumin mumbled, feeling dazed.

Yunyun turned to her and grinned. “Sometimes…sometimes it's better to make friends than war.”

Amulet blazing like a star, Tina rammed her shoulder into Beldia with reckless abandon. Her former master wasn’t bowled off his feet, but he did stumble, and his sword wobbled, missing the Queen by mere inches. Claire was right behind, both guns blazing, bullets biting into the horrid body with sprays of dark ichor.

“Your Majesty!” Tina gasped, and tossed her axe towards Iris. “Take my blade!”

She scooped up a fallen riot shield, and whirled to face Beldia just in time for his sword to send her staggering back.

“Thank you,” the Queen gasped, clutching Tina’s weapon in both her hands. “He is as strong as his reputation claims. My attack was unwise.”

“We have your back, my Queen,” Claire said grimply, ejecting empty magazines and slamming fresh ones home. “We’ll take him down.”

From the moment that ship had crashed into the undercity, Tina had known that what she had been looking for her entire life had finally arrived. Something within her, and especially within her amulet, had reacted to Iris. When she had declared herself Queen, Tina had known it to be true, and her heart had sung for joy. She’d looked to Claire, and both of them had been in silent agreement: This was what they had been longing for. A purpose, and a worthy one.

Blocking that blow for Iris had felt more right than anything else she had done her entire life. It was like up until now, Tina merely existed. Now, she was living.

Beldia chuckled darkly, resting his great sword on one shoulder. “So, was this your pathetic plan? Lure me out, and attack with the last dregs of old bloodlines? A noble endeavor, but a fruitless one.”

Saying nothing, Tina simply steadied herself, and prepared for the next assault.

“HEY, ASSHOLE!”

Beldia stepped back, pivoting towards the new voice. A young man with ragged clothes, blood on his face, and a mad gleam in his eyes stepped forward. Behind him, Cecily was leaning on the shoulders of a succubus, a manic grin on her face.

“You again? Do you desire death so greatly, young man?” Belida inquired with a sneer.

“Have you ever heard of type disadvantages?!” the boy cackled, his laughter carrying more than a hint of madness. “Because let me tell you, I’ve been playing RPGs my entire life! So when you get to hell, TELL THEM KAZUMA SATO SENT YOU!”

“How banal. Rise, my minions, and take care of that gnat,” Beldia said, and with a flick of his hand, several fallen corpses staggered up and towards the insane boy.

“BIG BRO!” the Queen wailed, but the madman was undeterred as the zombies shambled towards him.

“Like that’ll work! Ready, girls?!” Kazuma demanded.

“You know, for a demon, you’re pretty cute,” Cecily giggled, her eyes sparkling with fever. “How about a hook up later?”

“M-maybe after we don’t die?” the succubus stammered nervously, trying to move her head away from Cecily’s despite holding the other woman up.

“THAT’S THE SPIRIT! READY, YOU MAD BASTARD!” Cecily screeched, and raised her hand to grab the boy’s extended arm.

“CREATE, WATER!” Kazuma shouted.

A stream of water gushed out, splashing over Beldia and the undead.

Belida frowned and stepped away from the blast. “Really, Dullahans might be weak to water, but such a low level spell-”

“BLESSING!” Cecily cackled, and a blue glow washed over Kazuma, running down his arm, and infusing his own spell.

Instantly, the undead began to wail, their flesh dissolving to dust as the Holy Water washed over them. Beldia swore and tried to charge the boy, but he let out a bellow of agony as the spray hit him, staggering so that he nearly dropped his sword.  “That’s…not…enough…to end me!”

“BUT I AM, NOW!” Iris barked, and she shot forward, her axe raised on high. Tina was right there with her, swinging her shield like a club, as Claire darted in from the side, her shots taking Beldia right in the back.

The body rumpled as Iris carved through both kneecaps in one blow, and the head bounced to the ground, a cry of anger and shock escaping Beldia’s lips.

“WHAT?! NO! YOU CAN’T JUST COMBINE SPELLS LIKE THAT, THAT SHOULDN’T-ARRRGH!”

A final spray of water washed over Beldia’s head, then the succubus had to catch Kazuma as he collapsed to the ground as well. Then Iris slammed into Beldia’s head, her axe carving it right in half. There was a snap, a wave of black energy erupted from Beldia’s head as he screamed in impotent fury and anguish.

Then, there was nothing left of the CEO.

Tina sank to her knees, unable to stand any longer. She gasped for breath, looking around the devastation of the battlefield.

“Is this…victory?” she panted.

“No,” Iris said, rising up with the gore stained axe in one hand. “This is just the beginning.”

PRT Threat Assessment: Furina de Fontaine

Note: This is pretty big spoilers for Genshin 4.2, and this is also basically a draft. I may alter this in the future when the time to include Furina actually comes, but people wanted to know, so here it is. 

Furina de Fontaine performs live at the Palais Garnier in Le Petit Océnide, December 12th 2006

Cape Name: N/A

Civilian Name: Furina de Fontaine

Alias: None

Disposition: Thespian

Location: The primary residence is her flat in Paris, France, though she has frequently toured. Furina is not hard to track, as she seems addicted to social media.

General Information: Furina de Fontaine grew up in the region of Aquitaine, France, near a small village named Lugo. Not much of interest took place in her life for the first two decades of existence, though it is known she was raised by her Uncle, a judge named Neuvillette. The man passed away sometime in the early 2000s. Debts piled up, and Furina sold what little possessions she had and moved to Paris, France, in the hopes of becoming a successful actor.

She met with little initial success, staying with various acquaintances and distant relatives, acquiring a few small roles of no note in her first few months. Despite her innate talent and good looks, Furina was lost amidst a sea of young women who also sought to break out in the dwindling Parisian entertainment scene.

However, in a twist of fate, Furina became one of the first to receive what is now termed a “Hydro Vision,” which instantly attracted attention. Furina began to display the now codified Vision Holder powers (see documentation: Parahuman vs. Vision Holder, and Hydro Visions) and used these to secure several roles. Her natural skills combined with the abilities granted to Vision Holders soon propelled Furina to the top of the billing list as a performer, along with her flamboyant personality and use of social media.

Furina is now France’s most darling actress and has helped revitalize the theater and opera industries. She has starred in several operas, the most famous of which is of course Le Petit Océnide, which is being made into a major motion picture. Furina has displayed little interest in engaging in cape activities, and aside from a few fans and one minor villain who attempted to harass her, she has never used her powers in actual combat. Ratings depicted are thus largely conjectural, though they have been vetted by Thinker analysis.

Everything we thought we knew about Furina is a lie. None of this can be made public. The Protectorate and PRT have erred greatly. Furina is to be classified as an Archon level threat. I repeat, Archon level threat. - Director Costa-Brown

Mover 2, Shaker 3, Brute 1, Breaker 2, Master 4

Mover 2: Furina has demonstrated the ability to walk on water, which in some situations could potentially make her difficult to deal with. Additionally, she appears to be able to breathe underwater, an ability not uncommon for Hydro Vision holders. In everyday situations, both of these abilities are not major obstacles but should be kept in mind if a team needs to contain her.

Shaker 3: As with all Hydro Vision holders, Furina displays a level of Hydrokenesis. Her abilities are not particularly remarkable, but she can still move fairly substantial amounts of water at pressures that could prove dangerous. She can also pull some amount of water from the air or ambient sources, so even in locations where a direct source is not present, she is still somewhat of a threat.

Brute 1: As with all Vision Holders, Furina has slightly above human norm endurance, durability, and reflexes. She does not appear to be at all trained in any sort of combat techniques, though she has taken fencing lessons for stage performances. She also is likely to have some sort of regenerative abilities, though these have never been demonstrated. While Furina has proven more than capable of handling unruly fans, she has never shown any inclination or skill at fighting, but would be harder to put down than a baseline human.

Master 4: Furina’s most notable ability is that she can conjure up several constructs made of water, the names of which are quite famous, though if this is simply an affectation of Furina’s or if she is actually capable of manifesting permanent semi-aware hydro constructs isn’t known.

-Gentilhomme Usher: an octopus wearing a top hat, seems to be capable of firing spheres of water hard enough to cause minor injuries.

-Surintendante Chevalmarin: a seahorse with a bow on her head, also capable of firing bolts of water.

-Mademoiselle Crabaletta: a crab with a bonnet, fires bolts of water and seems capable of using claws to manipulate small objects and exert a degree of force that could cause injury.

-Singer of Many Waters: A jellyfish like creature that Furina calls an “Oceanid”. It seems to have some sort of regenerative field that can heal minor wounds, though Furina mostly uses it to perform duets with.

All the constructs seem to follow Furina’s orders, and to exist independently of her, though they never stray more than a few hundred meters from their mistress. They feature in the popular French children’s television show, “Mademoiselle Furina’s Salon Solitaire.” In a hypothetical combat scenario, it’s likely these constructs would prove extremely difficult to handle for the average PRT trooper, as with most elemental constructs. Use of containment foam is unlikely to work, but another Vision holder of a different element would easily deal with them, as would most parahumans.

Recommended Strategies: Furina is not considered a threat, and while she is a Vision Holder, this document primarily exists because of her fame. In most situations, a single team of unpowered agents, or even one particularly skilled PRT trooper, should be able to deal with any supposed threat posed by Furina. The largest threat are her constructs, which are not particularly dangerous. Due to her popularity with the public, lethal measures against Furina are heavily discouraged, and indeed, the best case scenario where Furina becomes belligerent, would be to disengage and let the spoiled brat throw her temper tantrum, then bill her later for the damages. Her bank account can handle it.

To sum up: Evacuate civilians if necessary, slap her in handcuffs, and stuff her in the drunk tank if she becomes a problem.

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