//------------------------------// // July 28: Going to California // Story: A Time of Reckoning: Seven Days in Sunny June, Book IV // by Shinzakura //------------------------------// A short trip on the RATP, and twenty minutes later, Sunset Shimmer wandered into 26 Boulevard des Loges, in the nearby town of Poissy. The house was a nice place in an upper-middle class suburb of Paris, and though Shimmer’s mother could easily afford better, they liked the house and it was just over six kilometers from her school. «Je suis là!» she called as she came in. «Bonjour, mon petit tournesol! Comment était ta journée?» a voice called from upstairs. “Mom? I thought we’d agreed to switch back to English so you could practice,” Shimmer pointed out. “As if I need it,” a woman with short hair in pastel tones said as she descended the stairs, fixing lilac eyes on her daughter. “I’ve been speaking it since before you were born. But this being France and you a Frenchwoman—” “Also American,” Shimmer pointed out. “You know, born in California, attending the American section of the Lycée and not the French one, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.” “Trivialities, my dearest child,” Shimmer’s mother said, a soft, playful smile coming onto her face. “Given your history and heritage, your sang Français counts more here than your sang Americain.” “Wasn’t aware blood had a nationality,” Shimmer said, rolling her eyes. She knew something was up; her mother tended to be far more impish than normal when something was amiss. Furthermore, her mother was being somewhat dismissive of Shimmer’s dual citizenship, something that the older woman normally found to be to her daughter’s advantage. “Mom? You can knock off the bad jokes and tell me what’s wrong, okay? I’ve already had a weird enough day as is.” Without her mother’s prodding, a second later the teen put two and two together. “Okay, what’s Uncle Noblesse want now?” “I just got off the phone with him,” the woman sighed as she plopped onto the sofa, resting delicate fingers onto her temples, a sign of a building headache if there ever was one. “I swear, I love my brother, but he can be such an idiot. ‘Solaire, I need you to attend the Global Empowerment Foundation’s annual meeting in Oslo as a representative of the family. Flight leaves from Roissy at six tomorrow morning.’ Does he even realize what we’re going through right now?” She groaned. “Remind me why I moved back to France?” Shimmer wrapped her arms around her mother in a hug. “Wasn’t my idea – wasn’t I the one who tried to run away after Dad died?” Solaire recalled the memory of a young nine-year-old girl showing up on the doorstep, face tearstained and with more than a few cuts and bruises showing through her torn clothes, but otherwise unharmed; the ECSD had returned the girl to her house in San Palomino after her eight hour attempt at (badly) dealing with her father’s fatal car accident just hours before. Her daughter had blamed herself for years for something that had completely been out of control; it had been the other driver that had been at fault. “Yes, and that’s when your grandmother thought that you’d be better off living here in Paris. Plus,” Solaire had to admit, “I had to support Noblesse in the succession of head of the family over that moron cousin of mine.” “Honestly? He creeps me out.” “He’s done much worse to me, dearest one, and probably would have gotten away with it too had it not been for the fact that he fears Noblesse.” The look in Solaire’s eyes was morose as she told her daughter, “Mon petit tournesol, how I wish I could spare you all this. It’s the last thing you need right now – it’s certainly the last thing I need right now.” “Mom, just promise me that if you ever decide to remarry? Not him.” “Believe me – not even in my nightmares, dearest Sunset.” Solaire chuckled softly, then drolled, “Really – I thought it was my duty to offer you dating advice, not the other way around.” “I learned from the best,” Shimmer said proudly. “You’re far too much like your father,” Solaire said, a fond smile on her face. “Let’s pack and we can be at Roissy in time for our flight. We have family to visit in America.” A bittersweet look came onto her face as she added, “Family that we’ve been long overdue in seeing.” The light of the summer sun stabbed into the room, jostling Sunset Shimmer to consciousness. Sitting up, she blinked away the last vestiges of sleep, stretching and yawning as she did so. Ugh. I swear, I am never going to get used to this part of being human. Was much easier when I was on the estral cycle. Fortunately, when she had first arrived on Earth, she’d had enough time to read up on the phenomenon of the human female body, and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t heard of that kind of biology before; while it was freakishly rare back home, it still existed. But it wasn’t anything that she’d expected to experience personally. Knowing that she had to get up regardless, she stumbled over to the bathroom, ignoring the pain in her hips, and after spending a few minutes doing things that would best be described as “horror film-worthy” for ponies, finally departed the sanctuary of upstairs, and walked downstairs towards her fate. “Wow, you look like crap,” Spike said as he looked up the stairs to see Sunset descending. “Well, Spike,” Twilight Velvet reproached, “to begin, your sister does not look like ‘crap’. And second, congratulations on volunteering to do the dishes.” The look on Spike’s face was one of complete horror as he realized what he’d done. Twilight Sparkle looked at her brother, then towards her soon-to-be-adopted-sister. “While I don’t exactly agree with how Spike phrased it, I do agree with his sentiment. You okay, sis?” “Yeah, just one of the real bad times running ‘round the red river,” Sunset moaned as she sat down at the table and pushed her hair back. As Velvet set a plate in front of her, the teen looked up gratefully. “Thanks, Mom. Now I need some coffee—” “Probably not a wise idea if you’re paying the monthly bill, dear,” Velvet told her, setting a glass of orange juice in front of her. “Besides, we’ve got a busy day today and you want to be at your best.” “Don’t remind me,” Sunset moaned, feeling every atom in her body cry out for caffeine. “Oh, quit it, you’ll survive,” Velvet said with a slight smirk, mentally cataloging this moment in order to tease her daughter-to-be a decade from now. Sure, mentally, she agreed with Sunset; today she’d rather have stayed in bed herself, given that it was going to be a long day for both of them. First would be a full medical checkup for Sunset with Zecora, followed by a full interview with Sunset by ECDSS staffers, something that Velvet couldn’t do herself as she and Night were the adopting parents. While she knew that last part was a relatively simple procedure, there was the fact that she couldn’t be around for that. Then there was Sunset’s occasional lack of memory regarding her past, a past that both Velvet and her husband privately admitted was a little too convenient. Not that she didn’t trust or love Sunset any less for the girl’s omissions; quite the opposite – Velvet hoped that once the adoption was final and Sunset truly had a real family to fall back on, she would start opening up on the parts of her life that she’d held back. Velvet wanted to help her soon-to-be elder daughter, and the only way to do that was to ensure that Sunset knew she had a family that loved her. It would take time, but the matron knew she would succeed. Two more sets of feet beat down the stairs, followed by a kiss on the cheek and one on the lips. “You two are running late,” Velvet said to the last two members of the household. “Sorry, love,” Night told her as he sat down. “Had to find a tie that goes with what I’m wearing – you know how the higher-ups at the University can be when it comes to budget discussions.” “Well, my excuse is that the socket my alarm clock’s plugged into died,” Octavia explained as she made a beeline for the coffeemaker. “I think we’ll have to call the electrician again.” “Sorry, Tavi,” Velvet said to her niece. “I thought they’d fixed it. Guess I’ll have to call them again.” But before the teenaged musician could respond, Night’s phone chirped at that exact moment. With some irritation, he looked at the screen, then pocketed the device as he rose from the chair. “Sorry, gotta go; Dean Moneytalks wants to have the meeting early, so that means I need to get going now and grab something at the Golden Arches along the way.” A thought came over Velvet’s face. “Will you be able to swing by Tia’s and Lulu’s and grab their depositions? I need to get that paperwork in today, and Sunny and I’ll be busy.” He shook his head. “Earlier, I don’t think it would’ve been a problem. But if Moneytalks is starting the headaches this early…I might not be home until late, hon.” “Well, Aunt Velvet, if Twily’s willing to stay here today and keep Spike company and wait for the electrician, I don’t mind getting them. I need to head to the store to get some replacement strings for my instruments, so it’s not a problem.” “You sure?” Velvet asked. Octavia smiled. “It’s for family, right? Not a problem at all.” Meanwhile, not saying a single thing, Sunset quietly ate breakfast, ignored the throbbing pain in her hips, the feral need for coffee, and looked at her family as they sat there discussing daily pleasantries. This time a year ago, she lived in relative squalor, with her myopic world being nothing more than the adulation of Snips and Snails and her need to humiliate just about everyone that she knew. Now, she knew she’d been so small back then; all this time had gone by and forced a major change in her perspective, so much so that the Sunset Shimmer of now hardly believed that she’d been the Sunset Shimmer of the past. But as she looked at the people that she loved so much, the ones she called her family, she knew that the Sunset Shimmer of the future would be one very lucky girl indeed. Now if I can just get the pain to subside. Maybe I should stop at the store and get some Midol…. In a townhouse on the other side of town, a woman reluctantly slipped out of bed, the bedsheet somewhat sticking to her. She felt the caress of a finger slide down her back, and she shuddered from delight at the sensual touch. “You know, if you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to get to work,” she cooed. Back on the bed, a man gave her a wolfish grin. “Says the woman who pretty much kept us busy all night. Tia, you’re more insatiable than women half your age, you know that?” Celestia turned and kissed him. “Maybe it’s because I’ve got the right boyfriend, Sable?” Sable Loam sat up. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a handful in bed.” “Flattery will get you everywhere, mister,” she said with a grin. “I thought it did,” he replied, and she shook her head with amusement. As she looked at him, she was once again amazed how their relationship had reached a whirlwind crescendo in a matter of weeks. She loved him, she knew that; and she knew he loved her. Their lives seemed to be a perfect pair, as if they’d always meant to be together, and Celestia couldn’t see herself now with anyone else – even her relationship with Discord hadn’t been this ideal. So why did she feel as though something was amiss? As she looked at the clear skies outside, why did she expect to see thunderheads and storms, portending darkness? Something felt…. Well, if I had to put a finger on it, it felt just like the days leading up to when Sunset Shimmer turned into that monster. And while I know she’s changed from those days, part of me wonders what all of this worry means. Maybe I am just getting old. She then turned back to her boyfriend and mused, “You know, maybe we should move in together.” He blinked at that. “We’ve only been together a couple of months, Tia. Think that’s moving a little too fast?” She smiled. “Maybe I just need a big strong man to protect me.” “Yeah, says the woman with the very vicious-looking sword on the wall,” he said, pointing to a golden-plated bastard sword, ensconced in the hallway leading from the living room to the bed. The sword practically seemed to glow with its own light, and the flambard edging was maintained and not just the obvious dullness of a collector’s sword, like so many samurai swords he’d seen at various people’s places over the years. “Oh, Sunbringer? Yeah, when I was in college my friends and I got into SCA; the armor plate I had with it is down in the garage. Trust me, it doesn’t get use anymore – don’t have time to do all that like I used to – but it’s too dear to me to just get rid of.” He laughed. “Any girl who uses a sword doesn’t need my help.” Celestia sighed and blushed girlishly. “So…think about it?” “We’ll talk about it later. I mean, we do have other issues to worry about, right? Technically you’re at a higher authority level than I am in the school system and isn’t there a fraternization policy in effect in the school district?” “Only if we’re at the same school or in the same cluster if I’m an assistant superintendent,” she pointed out, “and your school and mine aren’t in the same cluster, nor am I a superintendent.” He was about to say more, but then his phone rang. Picking it up, he looked at the number. “Oh, hey, old Army buddy.” “Well, I suppose you’ll want your privacy,” she said. “Besides, I need to hit the shower if I’m going to get ready for work. Kissing him quickly, she then let the sheet go, wandering over to pull fresh intimates from her dresser before walking into her bathroom. A few seconds later, the sound of the shower softly rumbled through the closed door. With a look of disgust on his face, he said, “Yeah, this is Loam. Go ahead.” “Well, hello, Sable – or should I just call you The Wolf of Kabul? The one that made the Taliban quake in their boots?” “You know I never liked that nickname.” “Well, I’m not the fucker who got a tattoo of a bloody wolf’s pawprint, am I?” Sable looked down to his right shoulder where the tattoo was; even after all these years, it still looked as fresh as the day he got it. “Whatever. So what do you want, Blackthorn?” “Hey, is that the way to talk to your old lieutenant, Sergeant Loam?” the man laughed. “‘Course, neither you nor I are in the Army now, are we?” “Yeah, heard from Nightfighter that you’re a washer for the Company now,” Sable said as he practically spat the words out. Being a soldier was one thing, but being an assassin for the CIA’s Division of Operations – the nastier side of the house that everyone knew of when they thought of the CIA – somehow just irked him. Sable liked (somewhat) fair fights, when the enemy knew he was coming. But washers took out their targets when least expected. “Yeah, and I just got a gem of an assignment, too, one I could use some backup on,” the man told him. “Going hunting after the SIRENs – you heard of them, right? Canadian superelite SPECOPS? Apparently teams from ARROWHEAD and the CSIS are having problems with them, so the DDO asked me to put a little team together, since the government’s trying to do a favor for the Cancans. Got some heavy hitters on this team, too – DEVGRU, DELTA, and MARSOC vets. All I need is you.” “Why me?” “Because you’re the best damn hard case I’ve ever seen. You saved an entire company that didn’t even know they were being ambushed. You got the freakin’ Soldier’s Medal for that!” “Yeah, I know,” Sable said in surprisingly sad tones. It had been the incident that had earned him the nickname of “Wolf of Kabul”. He’d been assigned to run point for a team sweeping that part of the ramshackle town, and, moving well ahead of the rest of the unit, he’d managed to spot a small team of Taliban that had planned a nighttime ambush of a company of regular infantry passing through the town. Unfortunately for the enemy, however, it had been a full moon that night, and it was the Taliban or the troops – and to Sable at the time, there had been no question. The medal citation had said it all: he’d fought them single-handedly, a squad of thirty to one, until his carbine and sidearm had been spent, then proceeded to continue fighting with nothing but his knife, even as bullets rained around him. By the time the last tango downed, he stood, covered in blood, the silver of his knife gleaming in his hand like a massive canine tooth. And by the time reinforcements arrived, the translator with them had been so shocked by Sable’s bloodstained appearance, that he’d uttered the word in Pashto that had marked Sable since: “Lewh”. Since then, he’d been celebrated, feted and when he decided not to reenlist, a general himself had practically begged him to reconsider. General Big Brass had referred to him as the ‘greatest soldier since Onslaught, back in Dubleya Dubleya Two!’ But none of them had been there for the fight; the one that even today he still felt stripped his soul. They hadn’t been there when he had to kill that four-year-old girl, who had been strapped to a bomb by her father and told to run to the soldiers. The bomb had been set with a Deadman’s trigger, and removing it would have been fatal for Sable. So instead he picked up one of the tango’s dropped AK-47s and took aim… His free hand began to shake. It was the reason he left the Army, the reason he couldn’t just move in with Celestia. He couldn’t tell her he still had nightmares about the whole thing. That this had been the first time in a while that he hadn’t slept with a loaded pistol. Or that maybe that girl could have grown up to be someone important. It was madness just thinking about it, and over the years, Sable had gone mad nightly, pulled back from the brink for reasons he had yet to fathom. “No. Count me out,” he told Blackthorn. “That part of my life is done. I work to improve lives now, not take them.” “You’re making a big mistake, Loam. These SIRENs are playing for keeps now that they went rogue. They found a high-ranking Canadian official in France – there wasn’t enough of him left to bury in anything but a shoebox. They’re going after something big, and they need to be stopped.” “Yeah, and I’ve heard the stories – that they’re an illegally-created group of child soldiers. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’m not interested in killing another kid. Never again,” Sable hissed. “Fine, fine. But you have my number if you change your mind. But you’d better change it soon: we have a report that they were spotted in Dubai, and we’re going in guns blazing.” “Yeah, whatever. Nice talking to you, Blackthorn.” Not waiting for a response, he hung up the phone and had just gotten out of bed, stretching, when Celestia stepped out of the bathroom. “So, have a nice talk?” she asked, as her eyes danced across his undressed, muscled form. “Yeah, my old lieutenant just, uh, moved to Idaho and invited me to a barbecue since we’re in the general area,” he lied, feeling guilty as he did, but he refused to expose her to his old life. “I told him I’d think about it, but that we’re a little busy.” “Well, you’re on vacation this month,” Celestia pointed out, “and I’m the one who has to work. You can probably spend a couple of days out there. I might miss you, but…hey, we can catch up when you get back.” He shook his head. “Not going,” he said, reaching into a small bag and pulling out spare clothes. “Can’t spare the time; I promised Sombra that I’d help him build that treehouse in the backyard that his wife wants for their kids. Besides, I’d never go anywhere without my best girl, you know that.” She blushed once more, but pointed to the bathroom. “Go shower now,” she purred, “or else I’m going to need another shower.” “Another?” “After we….” Her eyes traveled down towards his waist. “Right. Gotcha,” he said, walking into the bathroom as she smiled in appreciation of his tush. The taxi had no sooner arrived at the house than an all-too familiar Maybach 62 pulled up behind it. A man seemingly in his mid-thirties, thin and muscular, stepped out of the car, walking over to the taxi. Speaking to the driver, he handed him something, then stepped away as the cab sped off. The man then walked towards Solaire and Shimmer, removing his sunglasses and revealing a contrite face. «J’aurais dû me rappeler. Je suis un imbécile,» he said to both ladies, the look on his face somber. “No, you’re not, dear brother,” Solaire said in English to the blue-eyed blonde as he approached. “Of course I am, little sister,” he said with a grin. “I just gave the driver €500 for a fare that would have been, what, €30, at most?” “Generous as always. But while, yes, I was angry, I know you’ve been…distracted.” “No, Soli, damn me for the bloody fool that I am: when I told you I needed you to go to Oslo, I’d completely forgotten about your plans in America.” He then looked at Shimmer and added, “And I should definitely have known better, mon petit tournesol. Your father was a good friend and a good man, and I miss him.” “I know, Uncle Noblesse,” Shimmer said with a smile. Her uncle, Solaire’s brother Noblesse Oblige, had practically been a second father to her since their move to Paris. And even though he was a bit too focused on family duties at times, he’d always taken the time for his family, both immediate and extended. Noblesse turned back to Solaire. “Please, if there’s anything I can do….” But she shook her head. “Autumn told me Wintry passed easily, which sets me at peace,” she told him. “If anything, Oslo should be your concern.” “Star has offered to go. Unlike me, she remembered and said that even though our younger sister doesn’t have your gift for negotiation, your needs are paramount – that family is important. A lesson I should well know by now.” “Well, we do appreciate it,” Solaire replied, giving her brother a kiss on the cheek. “Too kind of you, dear sister. Now let me help you with your bags, and we can head to Roissy as soon as can be. Are you certain I cannot convince you to take one of the family’s jets?” She smiled. “No, this will be a wonderful opportunity to get back ‘to earth’, as it were,” she told him. “Sometimes we forget that because of what we are, we need not be who we are, if that makes sense.” “Well spoken like Father would have,” he said in response, grabbing their bags. “Now please, go ahead and lock up; I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight, after all.” Watching from a distance, a trio of women dressed in black sat on a nearby rooftop, observing the family. The sniper continued to watch through her scope; though her gun was set up, it was merely a defensive procedure in case they were spotted by authorities – the people below were to be monitored, not taken out. “Okay, looks like they’re loading into that nice, expensive car.” The second woman looked at the guy through the telescope. “Oh, I think I’d like to have him load me.” “Easy, you two, we’re here to tail our targets, not get you ladies boyfriends,” the third observed. A phone at her side then chirped. Figuring the line was monitored, she said, “Oh, hi, Sparky! Glad you called! Paris is just maaaarvelous!” The voice on the other end spoke, the phrase part of the carefully-planned code. “You know, Windmill, I’d really love to hear what’s going on.” Report status, the woman translated in her mind. “Oh, me, Cookie and Daffodil are just looking at the birds as they fly by.” We’re watching our targets. “Looks like they’re headed to the nest, too.” They’re enroute to the airport. “Well, don’t forget to get some pictures for me of all the wonderful sights!” Continue surveillance as planned. “No prob! Anyway, gotta go, overseas calls can be pricey! Bye!” The SIREN disconnected the line, ending the call before anything could be traced. “Okay, we have orders: follow them as planned.” The second SIREN sighed. “Oh, but I wanted to get to know him. He looks like he’d be fun in bed.” The sniper pulled away from the rifle and started to slip small cylinders in it; as designed, the white phosphorous minigrenades would go off in ten minutes, slagging the gun completely. Taping it shut, she then threw the gun into the pond in the backyard of the house they were observing from. “Oh, trust me – from what I hear of Canterlot? You’ll get your freak on, girl.” “I don’t want to do this,” Sonata said, looking at her sisters. She still felt reservations over the whiplash change in fortunes last night; truth be told, she felt more than a bit betrayed by her older siblings. “Look, Soni, I don’t want to do this eit—” Adagio began, only to recoil in shock as Sonata slapped her hand away before it could reach her. “We had lives,” the youngest triplet said angrily. “I like working for Mr. and Mrs. Cake! I like having friends and a life! I want to go to school and be a normal girl!” “Soni, it’s not like that!” Aria explained. “Then explain to me how it is, because I’m not getting the message,” she said, her eyes radiating anger and pain. “I don’t want to be a SIREN…but I don’t want to lose you two.” “Look, Soni—” Adagio was about to begin again when there was a knock at the door. The trio looked to see Madrigal Storm standing there. The three of them jumped to attention by habit, and stopped when Madrigal waved it off. “At ease, you three. I’m not here in a military capacity. I want to talk to you three as girls, not as SIRENs, okay? And I don’t want you to say anything that you think might please me – I want you three to be honest, understood?” The three nodded, and sat down on the bed. “Okay, why did you agree? I’ve been raising and training you three these past few months, and while I know Soni the best out of you three, I’ve gotten to know you other two well enough to see that you don’t belong here. You actually want – and deserve – lives. If you’d asked me, I would have been happy to see you three say no. But you didn’t.” Madrigal then pulled up a chair and added, “And I want to know why.” Adagio was about to say something, when she looked at the older SIREN. “Do you really want to know?” “You’re breaking Soni’s heart right now, Dagi. Not your shipmate, not your fellow SIREN – your own flesh-and-blood sister. She deserves an answer. And if you three had said no, I would have been here raising you until you got out of college – not eighteen, as I overheard you say. And frankly, I don’t care what Vesper and Mezzo think – this is about your future, not theirs, though I personally think they would agree with me.” Adagio nodded but simply said, “I don’t want any other girl to go through what we have, Maddie. Right now, I’m betting that CSIS is already looking for a general or admiral to be the head of a new SIRENs project. MOD won’t bury it; it’s been too successful, and our government has plausible deniability – the world is more likely to believe Washington would be behind something like us than Ottawa. In the meanwhile, more ‘qualified’ little girls will disappear and sixteen years later they’ll be killing tangos in some Godforsaken Arabic country. “I did that, and I don’t want any other girl to do it again. The girl I saved, the one they named after me? I don’t want Adagio Scirocco to have to be the one to shoot a poor girl’s father because he was abusing her. I don’t want that girl that Violin Elegy saved from a landslide last year to have to pretend to seduce a government official just so she can steal state secrets.” She shook her head. “I don’t want any of us to do any of this anymore—” “And neither did Uncle Poutine. And our own government killed him for that!” Aria cried, her hands tightened into little white balls. “I didn’t want to do this, either. But…Dagi’s my sister, and I won’t let her go alone into this, Maddie. If it’s just me and Dagi, fine – I’d rather Soni stay out.” The youngest triplet gasped and Aria looked at her sister. “One of us has to survive, Dagi and I decided that it has to be you, little sister. We’re expendable – you’re not.” But the look on Sonata’s face was one of anger. “Don’t you dare even say that to me, Ari! You and Dagi are my sisters! We’re triplets! I wouldn’t abandon you, so don’t you dare consider abandoning me!” She glared at them both. “It’s like Vesper told us: we can’t think we’re expendable, because we’re not – you’ll never be to me!” She moved over and embraced both. “I won’t abandon you.” She then looked at her grande sœur and added, “I’m in. You all are too important to me to lose any of you.” Madrigal looked her petite sœur in the eye. “Are you sure about this, Soni? I was willing to let you three off the hook and find some way to explain it to Command, but if you’re sure about this….” Adagio looked the lieutenant straight in the eye. “If I don’t do this, then if I see Adagio Scirocco again, how can I tell her I sat by the sidelines and let her suffer the consequences?” Aria who had heard the tale of her sister’s bravery in Dubai, agreed. “Uncle Poutine went to bat for us, and he was killed for it. Dagi might be going to protect younger girls, but I want to avenge him. They disgraced him and he deserves justice.” Finally, Madrigal turned to Sonata, her eyes practically pleading. To her, Sonata was as precious to her as her own flesh and blood. Likely, the youngest triplet would be the closest thing that the elder SIREN would ever have to a child, and both knew that. “Sonata, you don’t have to do this.” “I can’t be without them, Maddie,” Sonata said in a soft voice. “Or you. I just can’t.” “And I don’t think I could live if I had to bury you – any of you. I’m asking you three to please reconsider.” When Adagio and Aria shook her head as one, Madrigal looked at Sonata. The look in her eyes was pleading: Please don’t. “I have to,” Sonata told her sœur. “I can’t betray the Sisterhood…or my sisters, including you.” “Okay then,” she told them. “Get some sleep: we’ve got a long day tomorrow and we permanently deploy at 1800, understood?” “Aye aye, Lieutenant,” all three girls said at once as Madrigal silently left the room. Madrigal went downstairs and looked at her friends, sisters themselves. “They didn’t back out,” Madrigal said, her eyes softening. “I should be proud of them…but instead, I’m afraid.” “I know,” Intermezzo replied. “OIC of this little team, admittedly, I hoped they would myself.” Intermezzo reached over and grabbed Vesper’s hand; the sign of love from one sister to another did not go unnoticed. “Maybe if someone had been there for Rhappy, Vesper and I, maybe things would have been different for them. Maybe if Uncle Poutine had lived, maybe things would have been different.” “But he didn’t,” Vesper said, stealing a glance upstairs, to where the lights in the three girls’ rooms had gone out. “The government we swore our lives to murdered him in cold blood, and we have to avenge it. An eye for an eye.” Madrigal could only think about the young girl with soft blue hair, streaked with purple, that she’d raised since she was ten. “I just hope we all don’t go blind in the process,” was all she could voice. “So, the verdict, Doctor?” Velvet laughed. “Will my daughter be able to play the piano? Not that she could, mind you, but….” Zecora chuckled, then looked over the medical records that the hospital had sent for Sunset’s time from being stabbed. ”According to the records that I see, you’re a healthy young girl, far more so than me.” Velvet laughed. “Let me guess: had kids all day before we got here, Zee?” The doctor rubbed the back of her head, her salt-and-pepper hair shaking. “Apologies; one too many children and I somewhat get stuck in the speech. Maybe that’s just nature’s way of saying I should do it permanently.” “Maybe you should become a rap star?” “At my age?” Zecora laughed. “Perhaps when I was in my prime, I suppose, but those days are as far gone as Run DMC.” Sunset laughed. “DJ-Zee?” She was rubbing her arm from the latest battery of shots, but she was enjoying seeing this side of both the family doctor and her mother. It was history that she was sure the other members of her family already knew, but each moment like this – even if this one came with shots – was something that she would treasure years from now: each moment bringing her closer to having a true family. No, that’s not true, Sunset thought as she looked at her mother. I’ve had one since a while back – it was just me that was the last to realize it. “Well, everything seems fine, so here’s the paperwork,” Zecora said, signing the necessary documents and giving them to Velvet. “I truly hope all goes well; you two complement each other well, just by your colors.” “How so?” Velvet asked. “Velvet, your family hair colors, well, they lean towards the cool; with the exception of the magenta stripe in Twilight’s hair and the neon blue in Shining’s, your family’s hair is colors of greens, dark blues and purples, and your own gainesboro. But Sunset is fire and bright sun with her hair tones. It is just like that: you calm her fears by giving her love, and she brings a bright spark to your family by loving you all back.” As both mother and daughter blushed, Zecora laughed heartily and added, “It’s like they say back in Kenya: ‘Mioyo wala kukutana mtu mwingine barabara kama,’ or ‘Hearts do not meet one another like roads.’ You have to work at love to be loved, and you have worked together to become a family.” Seeing both of them smile at that, Zecora grinned in return. “And nothing can ever separate that.” As the baggage handlers carried their bags away, Shimmer and Solaire looked at Noblesse. “I realize that I’ve asked you several times, but are you certain that you want to fly commercial? Granted, I see nothing wrong with it, but I thought you were in a hurry.” Solaire kissed her brother on the cheek. “That’s sweet of you, but for now, we’d rather just be ourselves at the moment. It was why I wanted to stay in America, you know.” “I know. And I regret that Father insisted you return once Summer passed away,” he told her. “I know you’ve never wanted any part of the family business, Solaire, especially given the events of the past few years….” “As my husband would have said,” Solaire mused with a wry smile, “being royalty sucks ass.” “Dad really used to say that?” Shimmer asked. Noblesse laughed. “Of course he did. You should have seen the day he found out that his beloved girlfriend was a member of the Bonaparte family and thus a princess! It was during a time that I had a chance to visit them in Canterlot and bear in mind that your father didn’t even know your mother came from money, much less royalty.” Solaire smiled. “What can I say? I enjoyed working at the bookstore, and Summer always appreciated me for my mind, not just my looks.” Turning to her daughter, she then added, “But your father wasn’t very happy with the fact that when we married he became a prince consort, or the fact that you were a princess upon birth.” Shimmer groaned. “Don’t remind me – only reason my friends know is because they’ve stayed over; I’ve certainly never thought I was better than them.” “And that befits you, mon petit tournesol. We are, after all, merely pretenders, the Imperial Throne of France long gone.” «EMBARQUEMENT IMMÉDIAT AIR FRANCE VOL 2269 À NEW YORK À LA PORTE 3F,» the voice sounded over the loudspeaker. “NOW BOARDING AIR FRANCE FLIGHT 2269 TO NEW YORK CITY AT GATE 3F.” “Well, that’s our flight,” Solaire said to her brother as she embraced him. “Give my love and thanks to Star when she returns from Oslo, please.” “I will,” he told her, then turning to embrace his niece. “And Sunset, take care of your mother, will you? I suspect this will not be an easy time for either of you.” “I will,” Shimmer vowed. As Noblesse turned to walk away from them, a thought suddenly came to him. “Oh, where will you be staying while you’re there?” “We’ll be staying with my in-laws,” Solaire told him. “Believe me, they’re not about to treat us like royalty, Thank God.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. That idiot Divine recently bought property in the Canterlot area and for a moment I thought—” Solaire rolled her eyes. “Brother, I’m in mourning – not terminally stupid. And even if I was the latter, I have my daughter to consider.” “You’re awfully quiet today,” Crackle said as she sat down next to Coco. The two were still the closest of friends, even though Crackle had to continually hide the horrific things her sister and Blueblood had nearly done to Coco; the latter girl, blissfully unaware, had recently expanded her circle of friends to include Rarity’s younger sister and Sweetie’s own friends, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. “Well, Ah guess Coco’s a shrinkin’ lily,” Apple Bloom commented. “Shrinking violet,” Sweetie corrected. Scootaloo groaned. “The walking internet strikes again. Fortunately, me an’ Crackle are happy to round out the lower end of the group, right?” The Chinese girl shrugged. “You make it sound like you’re proud of being stupid. Aren’t you the one who wants to be a pilot?” Scootaloo stuck her tongue out at her new friend and that was that. Crackle in turn flipped Scootaloo off and a second later, Sweetie, Apple Bloom and Coco were desperately trying to pull the two potential pugilists apart before they killed each other. Meanwhile, watching the mess, Fluttershy and Rarity looked with concern. “Rainbow, shouldn’t you do something about that? Scoots could get hurt.” Rainbow leaned back in her chair. “Flutters, I can’t fight all my little sister’s battles for her. I’ll be there if she gets her ass kicked, but this is something she has to manage for herself.” “Rainbow,” Rarity exclaimed, “I’m shocked! How could you let your little sister be injured?” “Well, I dunno, Rares: you tell me if it’s a good idea for you to do everything there ever is so that Sweetie doesn’t have any issues in life?” “That’s not what being an older sister is about, and you know that,” Rarity countered. “Yes, yes I do, which is why I’m staying out. It’ll make Scoots think twice before she runs her mouth again.” Rainbow sat up and looked right at Rarity. “I love my sister and wouldn’t want her to be hurt, either – but there’s a huge difference between that and not letting her fight her own battles. She’s already had a hard life as is, and as her sister I can’t let her go out there without knowing she can handle herself…even if it means there’s a few cuts and bruises along the way. Trust me, my parents thought it worked for me, so obviously it’ll work for her.” “If you say so,” Rarity murmured with distaste. Seeing the current impasse between the two friends, Fluttershy decided to act. Reaching behind her, she brought out a pink guitar and started to strum on it. Sure enough, it caught her friends’ attentions. “Fluttershy, dear, forgive me for being too forward, but didn’t you say that you weren’t interested in your father’s career?” Rarity asked. “Well,” Fluttershy said with a blush, “I wasn’t at first, but then Dad showed me all the responses to the concert on You Tube.” The chiffon-haired teen then seemed to shrink into herself as she mumbled something incomprehensible. “Sorry, couldn’t hear that, Flutters,” Rainbow said, with a grin; she, of course, had been the first to hear it and hadn’t stopped teasing her friend since. “They all called me hot,” Fluttershy finally said, her cheeks radiating enough red to rival a stop sign. “One guy even made a video of his own to ask me to go to his prom – he’s in Cleveland. Based on that, Dad suggested that I practice in case I change my mind, but that he doesn’t want me to do it full-time unless I’m serious about it.” The look on her face sobered briefly as she said, “He doesn’t want me to suffer the sort of thing that made him have to live away from us for so long.” “Yeah, well, I guess if anyone knows what the fuck they’re talking about it’d be your old man,” Rainbow commented. “Anyway, did you tell her about the rest?” “What rest?” Still strumming along on her guitar, Fluttershy added, “Pinkie asked me to play at Sunny’s post-adoption party. It’s supposed to be a surprise, since she still has to ask Tavi, who’s supposed to play as well. I thought it’d be fun, so I agreed.” Rarity smiled. “That would be lovely, dear. It would be the ideal way to signal to Sunset how much has changed for her in this past year, and I can’t think of a better way to do so.” “Pinkie,” Applejack said, looking at her friend, “that’s th’ dumbest idea Ah’ve heard from you in a while. Y’know that Flutters ‘s gonna just freeze up in front of that many people.” “Nope!” Pinkie said with confidence. “Look at all the people she played in front of when we were in San Francisco. The whole world! And if she can handle that, she can handle anything!” “Ah just hope yer right, Pinkie.” Lips broke free of one another, replaced by the heavy panting of two people in post-coitus. While Divine had told Cantata that it had been for “charging of tantric energies for further magic,” she knew damn well that it wasn’t always. And she was fine with that; it was part of the bargain between the two that they shared, that of the future emperor and empress of this realm. Between his magic and her military stratagem, they would bring the world to its knees. She turned to look at him as he traced a finger down her well-toned chest. “Well, now that we got the pleasure out of the way, shall we discuss business?” “I am always about business, my dear,” he said, propping himself up on the pillows. “How fares your force recall?” “Every SIREN not currently involved in training and cleared for combat is enroute. My concern is that it’s going to send a massive signal to both CSIS and the Americans. They will respond, and until we have everything under control, I will have three hundred of my best troops in danger.” He smiled wolfishly. “I wouldn’t worry; the enhanced serum is nearly complete. The scientists have been following my orders to the letter to synthesize it from Piano’s blood, and they will do so…or, well, I’ve shown them the video of what you did to that man back at my mansion. Needless to say it was quite the motivator.” “Some people aren’t motivated by fear, Divine,” she reminded him. “True, some people care not if they die. But they do care about everyone in their family from two degrees on doing so, and I believe you are more than capable of executing that threat if necessary.” “I’ll start gathering the intelligence right away.” She took his hand off her breast and intertwined it with her own hand. “Anything else?” Letting go of her hand, he rose from the bed and said, “The weapons cache you requested will be delivered this afternoon. The people making the delivery believe they’re going to receive a few million dollars’ worth of cocaine. Please make sure they don’t leave alive – I despise drug dealers.” “As do I,” Cantata said, as she crawled out of bed in turn. “Now, I do believe I must check on our project,” she voiced as she walked over to the dresser to pull out some underwear. “And I have some preparations to make for the Summoning,” he told her. “One of your squads captured the first vessel for me earlier today, and I must see to that.” The two dressed in silence, though stealing looks at each other occasionally. They acted as a long-standing couple, but it was a twisted union, both relying on the other yet neither completely having faith. That would come in time, both knew; it would have to, as Cantata had enough leverage on Divine to put him down and vice versa. But lasting empires were built on trust, and both mage and commander knew they had to get along. That was the point of marriage, wasn’t it? Slipping on normal clothing – uniforms were restricted only to guards indoors – Cantata then checked her web belt and pistol, then grabbed a small box that had been sitting on table where her belt had been. Ensuring all was set, she then went over, kissed Divine one last time then departed the room. She knew she still smelled of sweat and sex, but it gave her a private thrill; hardly military regulation, but now she was to be the Commander in Chief of their forces, so who was to dictate protocol to her? Leaving the bedroom at the complex, she saluted the SIREN assigned to guard duty just outside the door and went on her way. She walked across the crumbling parking lot that remained of the previous construction here, looking at the largest of the warehouses; that would serve as SIREN headquarters for the nonce. Instead, she turned and walked towards the perimeter and a smaller building that skirted the edge of the property, briefly acknowledging the disguised SIREN lazily – and intentionally so, as to not alert the authorities – standing guard. She then went into the building, took a left, then looked at an open hatch on the floor. Jumping through it, she ended up in an underground facility, part of what had once been planned for the failed sports stadium. Here she passed by several scientists and the SIRENs assigned to watch over them. Finally, she reached a heavy door, where a trio of SIRENs armed with light machine guns, rifle grenade launchers and assorted other weapons, stood. Returning their salutes, she asked, “Who has been here in the past hour, Petty Officer Charm?” “Just the usual housekeeping trainers and one scientist assigned to check on the subject’s health,” Petty Officer 1st Class Banjo Charm, the watch team leader, responded. “They checked out on the schedule, so I cleared them.” “Good. Open the doors, and no one is to enter until I return, is that understood?” “Aye, ma’am,” Charm replied, looking to the second SIREN, who opened the door. Klaxons sounded and orange LED lights activated, signaling that the massive steel gate was opening. Cantata waited until it was open just enough for her to slip through, then waited for it to close, as darkness swallowed her. As the huge metal maw shut with a massive thunk, red light streamed into the room, illuminating her and a pathway leading to a door. Barely visible in the darkness beyond the ruby glow were all the claymore mines, pointed along the pathway towards the door, designed to eliminate anyone who wasn’t authorized to be here and had somehow managed to make it past the fire team. Fortunately, Cantata had the failsafe on her, just in case. Reaching the other door – a dogged hatch usually found aboard warships and a far cry from the other portals in the complex – she opened it and a blast of putrid, fetid stench hit her; the first time she’d smelled it, the odor had caused her to vomit a very expensive lunch she’d had the hour prior. Now, while a bit more accustomed to it, she knew she would never completely adjust to it. Sadly, that was part of the fate of the experimental creature housed within. The second room was also dark, save for a single dingy light radiating from the ceiling to the floor. The room was also silent, save for a reedy breathing, the clank of chains, and the splash of Cantata’s footsteps in the inch of water that permeated this room. “I’m here,” Cantata said in a soft voice. “Hiiiiiii Caaaaaannnntaaaa….” an uneasy voice replied back in a sing-song tone. The speech sounded as though its origin came from partially underwater. “How are you feeling?” the SIREN commander asked as she stepped into the light, a soft smile on her face. “Huuuuuurrrrts….” the voice burbled, the pain obvious in its tone. “I brought you something.” Cantata opened the box, pulling out a small white teddy bear. “I hope you like it,” she said, holding it out towards the darkness. “Iiiiii looooooooovee ittttttt….” the voice said, barely heard over the rattle of chains as a huge hand, larger than Cantata’s head, reached out towards the teddy bear. The hand was dark gray, nearly black, and covered in scales not unlike that of a fish, yet seemed to blend together that it was barely noticeable unless one really looked. The fingers ended in what would have been pinpricks of claws, had they not been cut off. “Have you been taking the medicine the doctors have been giving you?” “Yyyyeah, buuuuuuut iiit taaaaassssssttess naaaaaaaaaaasssty….” “I know, but it’s the best way we know that will cure you, sweetie,” Cantata said in a hushed voice. After a second, she asked, “Would you like me to read you a story?” “Ppppleeaaaase?” Acknowledging that, Cantata had already downloaded The Poky Little Puppy. It had been the creature’s favorite when younger, and Cantata had memories of reading it often to the subject. Memories that were now bittersweet in light of what had happened. Minutes passed as Cantata read the story and spent time, speaking to the monster chained up in the room. Finally, the phone chirped and Cantata said, “I’ve got to go. Duty calls. But I promise I’ll be back again soon, okay?” “IIiiiiii looooovee yooouuuu, Cccaaannnttttaaaa….” the creature burbled as Cantata started to walk away. A tear managed to roll down the SIREN’s cheek as she replied, “I love you too, Piano.” Cantata finally departed the larger set of doors, when another scientist arrived. “Continue testing and draining the creature’s blood,” she ordered. “I want that thing sucked dry until the serum is perfected, do you understand?” “Yes, ma’am,” the scientist said, as he and his assistants prepared to enter. “Captain, a word, if you would, please?” Petty Officer Charm asked, and Cantata nodded as she was ushered just out of earshot. “Ma’am, forgive me for being personal about this, but there’ve been some questions asked, and I wanted to make sure that the watch rotations have the right information.” “Of course, Petty Officer. What’s the question?” “Team Charlie went in at about three this morning to retrieve a scientist that had lost it in there. We had to put her down, but that’s not the problem. Petty Officer Harpsicord Strike swore that she heard the monster in there speak with the voice of your petite sœur, Seaman Piano Bliss. Now I know tha—” Cantata cut the petty officer off. “Petty Officer Charm…it pains me to say this, but Seaman Bliss was killed three weeks ago. We were ambushed by Les SCARS, and she sacrificed herself to make sure I got away.” Tears came to Cantata’s face and the senior SIREN said, “She was more than just my petite sœur, I loved her practically as if she was my own daughter.” “I’m…. Forgive me, Captain. I didn’t know.” “I know you didn’t. I was going to make an announcement during the All-Hands and posthumously promote her to petty officer.” “You have my vote on that, ma’am. She was one of the best of us.” “Yes, she was,” Cantata said in a shaken voice. “Well, I need to check on some other things. Carry on.” Charm saluted. “Aye, ma’am.” The plane lifted off, and with it, Shimmer’s stomach. Though she was a well-traveled girl at the age of seventeen, she’d never liked flying. Ocean cruises, yes; train trips, sure – but while air travel could get you from Paris to London in just over thirty minutes, she still hated getting airborne. Solaire, well familiar with her daughter’s quirks, looked at the younger woman. “Did you take your sickness pills?” she ventured. Shimmer queasily nodded. “Yeah, I did – I’m sure the staff wouldn’t be happy if I vomited in First Class. Part of me thinks that maybe we should’ve taken Uncle Noblesse’s advice, Mom.” Solaire nodded in sympathy to her daughter’s illness, but said, “I’m sorry, mon petit tournesol, but I want you to have a normal life. I promised your father that if anything happened to him, you would grow up as a normal girl, not as a conceited princess. If you want an example of a vain, spoiled royal brat, you need only look at my cousin.” “I know, but we would’ve gotten to New York faster, right?” Solaire smiled wryly. “Dear, were it not for my brother’s insistence, we would have flown Economy.” “Economy?” Sunset had never understood why people put up with such cramped conditions for hours on end. Sure, such setups were fine for a bus or the metro, but for the confined space of an aircraft? She thought the flight to Sydney last year – even with the short layover in Singapore – was utter hell; she couldn’t even dream how anyone could put up with that for hours on end! Solaire saw that look in her daughter’s eyes and gave a wistful sigh. “It’s not as bad as it seems; your father and I used to fly like that all the time, and we could certainly afford to buy the whole plane.” A nostalgic look came onto her face as she added, “Summer always felt that sitting in First Class kept you from the world. I remember a time when we were flying Economy from Chicago back to Canterlot, and our flight was cancelled because of weather. If we’d taken First Class, we probably could have caught an earlier flight – but we didn’t and instead, we stayed overnight in the airport. “You stayed in the airport? Not in a hotel?” “Oui. And you know what we saw? Diamond dust – it’s a type of loose, powdery snow – sparkling in the moonlight. It was only possible because of the atmospheric conditions, the wide-open space of the tarmac and the full moon that night. If we’d stayed at a hotel, or if we’d taken those First Class seats, we would have missed out on the little things in life that make it all the worthwhile – the kind that money can never replace.” She wiped a tear from her eye as she said, “I don’t think you’ll really ever know how much you lost when your father passed. It was more than just his presence; you lost a wealth of experience and wisdom that I can never hope to pass on to you, not with the sheltered childhood I had.” She caressed her daughter’s face with a solitary hand. “I can only hope to give you an approximation of what your father had, so it can make you into a woman most unparalleled.” Shimmer took Solaire’s hand in her own, her eyes glistening with love for her mother. “You’re doing fine, Mom. Besides, there’s just one of me in this world – I really doubt I could ever have anything other than the perfect life you’ve given me.” The room was ramshackle and looked like something out of a medieval architect’s afterthought: the chamber was cold as a corpse, drafty and poorly lit. If anything, it was as close to the original specifications of the alchemical chambers of Baldassare di Cavalcanti, with the exceptions of the mirrors and the other items at ECMAH. Divine supposed that if he wanted to make this place as accurate as possible, he could retrieve those items; perhaps it would put him in touch with the Black Unicorn that had led his Father of Fathers to greatness. After all, in just a few moments, after years of preparation, he could finally begin to take the steps that he so richly deserved: that of ascent to Emperor of All, a virtual – perhaps even literal – god. And there, on the table, were the four items that he had spent so long and disposed of so much lucre in order to obtain. Admittedly, the first was the easiest to get: simple grave robbing and extensive spells had allowed him to forge this cask made from the bones of the damned. The hardest part had actually been to find where they had been buried and to hire mercenaries to do his dirty work. While he had succeeded in that endeavor, it was when the cutthroats that he hired tried to turn on him that fate intervened in the method of Cantata Blast and her SIRENs rescuing him by way of destroying a group of mercenaries she’d later told him “sold them out to CSIS”. Realizing their utility, he made plans to include them as his army. A deal was struck and from that point, things continued apace. And thanks to their efforts and his funding, the three pieces now lay before him, each ready to be corrupted from their original purpose and bent to his will. The first was the mysterious Blade of Balance, the so-called sword wielded by a to-this-day nameless sorcerer of incredible power who was said to have assisted Merlin himself in defeating a demon hell-bent on destroying the world. It was never said what had happened to the sorcerer in question, and the only proof of his existence was this gladius-like sword, with a blade of pure silver and a hilt and guard of gold, both so pure that not even modern smelting could create anything that pristine. The second was the Song of Summoning. It had been the song that had been provided to Cavalcanti by the Black Unicorn, its intent meant to summon the great demon. Why it was never used Divine didn’t know, but it had fallen into various hands around the centuries until its final location in the hands of some wealthy – and now-dead – sheik in Dubai. If the man had only known what he’d had in his hands aside from being a mere priceless antique, perhaps it would have been too late for Divine to act. Fortunately, the fool had valued it only for its age and not its utility; Divine would be sure to give the document its proper due. Lastly was the Campana of Containment. Far from being an ordinary bell, this precious instrument, no larger than a hand bell, appeared to be fashioned out of pure red gold, veined with intricate platinum symbols, some of which he had yet to discern. But what was even more frightening was its true origin: within its space was said to be the demon itself, trapped within by the powers of Merlin and that unknown sorcerer, waiting for the day when someone strong enough could come to destroy the beast for once and for all. From here he could feel the power radiating from it, and when he rang it, in addition to the sharp peal of its tones seemed to be the undercurrent of an unnatural growl. It would take some doing, but he could free the demon within the bell, and make the fiend bow to his will, he was certain of that. But for now, he had to start somewhere, a first step on the final journey. Taking the Blade in hand, he noticed how small it was; this seemed more like a long knife than a true sword, and it made him wonder if the ancient unknown sorcerer had really been a woman or perhaps even a child. Regardless, said sorcerer had once hefted a sword worth more than all the treasures of the world, and used it to bind a monstrous beast that would soon serve Divine’s every whim. Slipping the blade into his belt, he reached over and grabbed the Cask of the Damned in his opposite hand, steadied everything for a second. Against the wall, set in a case made of the finest mahogany, was a spear made of rosewood, the tip made of a finely-shaped amethyst. The spear was said to have once been in the ownership of Charlemagne, one of the ancestors of the pathetic kings of France, a weak group far from power and far from promise, nothing like his Imperial Line. Granted, the House of Bonaparte had been started by a braggart with more bravado than brains, but it had been that bravado that had claimed France, and had allowed that dolt to marry his wife, introducing the blood of Cavalcanti into the Bonaparte line and thus ensuring that Divine had a rightful claim to the rule of France – a jumping point to his eventual command of all. Between his grimoire and the Mystical Spear of Carolus Magnus, he would be supreme. But enough of that for now; he had work to do. Gently setting aside the spear’s case, Divine then pointed his free hand at the nearest wall, the violet force of his magic coming to play. The wall strobed with the same color, and with that, he walked through the wall as though it wasn’t there. This room, completely sealed and inaccessible save through mystical means, contained very little, save for a wooden bench…and the naked, bound girl that was chained to it. She looked at him with horror as he came through the wall and struggled, pulling against the chains, though her wrists and ankles were already chafed and red against her fair skin. She tried to scream, but the gag firmly in place prevented it from doing so. All she was succeeding in doing was ruining her pretty hairdo, the violet and lavender locks of hair coming undone, and further reddening her purple eyes from the crying she’d done. “Hello, miss,” he said to her, looking over her body. She had to be no more than thirteen, her body reaching the cusp of womanhood. It thrilled him slightly, and if he didn’t need her for other purposes, well…he had checked to ensure that she was a virgin. “Did you know you’re here to make history?” Shining Badge shouted from his desk, “All agents! Meet in the Conference Room, now!” Shining Armor looked up from his computer, where a thrilling game of Mahjong was ongoing. “What’d you do this time, Sandy?” he joked. Sandalwood grinned as she got out of her chair. “I’d tell you, but you’d have to give me at least a fifth of vodka, all night with you and a wedding ring,” she replied with a wink. “Seriously, no idea.” A new voice – Agent Hardline – shouted from behind them. “Move it, you two, this is serious!” she called as she practically rushed past them, followed by the other members of the FBI in attendance and those still on loan from the SIREN Task Force. Shining and Sandalwood immediately followed suit; if something was big enough to warrant immediate attention, then far be it for either of them to argue about it in the slightest. A second later they entered the Conference Room, which had reached standing room only levels of population – practically unheard of for the office. Seated at the front of the table, Badge looked at his agents. “Drop everything you’re working on,” he ordered. “Huge and immediate change of plans.” “Sir, we think we may have a lead on the SIRENs case,” Hardline began. “Are you sure about this?” “When the life of a young girl’s on the line, Hardy?” he asked her. “Hell yes!” “What’s going on, sir?” one of the other agents asked. “We just got a call from CPD HQ – they’re mobilizing everything: earlier today, the mayor’s daughter, Liza Doolots, was kidnapped in broad daylight. The assailant shot the mayor’s husband several times; he’s at Canterlot Regional, in critical condition. As for the kidnappers, they left a card – a tarot card, if I remember the flash briefing – as a calling sign.” As the room started to buzz with agents talking amongst themselves, Shining’s mind already went into street beat mode: “Could it be political?” he asked. “Mayor Mare’s up for reelection in two years, and the last race against her opponent was pretty nasty.” “Yeah, now that I think of it, didn’t her opponent threaten her on live TV?” another of the local agents asked. “Don’t know, but we’ll obviously look into that angle. In the meanwhile, CPD has asked everyone in the Metro area to get boots on the ground, including us.” Badge reached over to tap a button on the keyboard, and a projector above lit up, throwing the image of a young girl, smiling, her sweet purple eyes, fair skin, and violet-and-lavender hair showing the sad tale of a girl who had no idea what the real world was like. “Liza Doolots, thirteen years old, recently graduated Central Junior High and scheduled for her freshman year at Canterlot High. They tracked her phone to Darkside approximately twenty minutes ago, and it was thrown in a ditch. Leads are already being followed in Everfree Glades and as far away as Bella Vista,” Badge explained. “Look, I’m not going to waste your time quoting statistics: you know as well as I do that the longer she’s missing the less chance she’s alive. Let’s get going, before it’s too late.” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Shining said, leaping to his feet, Sandalwood following him in close order. Liza looked at the man before her, who had removed her gag. “Please…let me go…. My mom’s the mayor, and she’ll do anything to get me back. You can have anything you want,” she moaned. “Anything, hmmm?” the man said, leering at her body. Liza, having just had “the talk” with her parents just a few months ago, now knew what that look was for, and it sickened her. But if it would mean her freedom, she would do it. “Yes, I’ll do it – I’ll do anything you want. Please, just let me go!” The tears started again, and the man smiled at that. He seemed to derive joy from her pain and that horrified her even more. “But what if I didn’t want to let you go?” he asked her. His voice was clearly accented, which meant he was a foreigner. Mexican, maybe? Her mother had once introduced her to a wealthy Mexican industrialist, who was looking to build a factory in the area. As her panic mind sieved through the recollections of that party, she immediately dismissed it; the accent was far different. But then, where was he from? I have to remember everything so that if I escape, I’ll be able to tell the police! She then remembered he’d walked through the wall, but the voice in the back of her mind told her that was impossible; the “wall” had to be a curtain or maybe even a hologram or something like that, something that was easily explainable. “What if I wanted to keep you as my personal pet?” he asked, leaning on her knees, placing the knife just before her sex. “What if I wanted you to do nothing more than to please me and bear my children? Or maybe just something that I just wish to entertain myself with.” “Please, Mister,” she begged, trying to keep calm just as her mother warned her, “I’ll do anything you want – and I won’t tell anyone. Please, just let me go and I’ll do whatever you want!” “Do you know what I really want?” he asked her. “My v-v-virginity?” she nervously offered. Standing above her as she offered everything to him, he felt a rush. Yes, this is what true power is about. Giving her a smile, he said, “Well, yes, Miss Doolots, I chose you because you were a virgin. But this has nothing to do with your cute little attempt to offer yourself as my whore.” He then methodically held the Blade out before her, adding, “No, I needed the blood of a virgin, the first of many.” Liza, now realizing what was about to happen started screaming and pulling against the bonds as hard as she could, as if her life depended on it – because it clearly now did. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE!” Raising the Blade and ignoring her screams, Divine looked her right in the eyes and said, “As I said, you’re about to make history, Miss Doolots: the first of the sacrifices necessary in making me Emperor of All.” He then got right into her face, listening to her screams at point blank range and almost savoring them. “This will hurt a bit,” he told her as he touched her lips with his; immediately, though she tried her hardest to, no sound came from her desperate attempts to cry. “But I assure you,” Divine Right said as he raised the Blade right above her heart, “this will all work out in the end. “After all, it is my divine right.” He brought the Blade down, and all was red.