How do you explain the end of the world to someone? 

I cursed myself mentally. I'd been so focused on the clean-cut man only a few yards from me that I'd allowed myself to forget just how little these people had been incorporated. While it seemed the population had a general idea of the situation, hearing it out loud and confirming it was much different than propaganda and the occasional theory. 

I hedge, trying to think of the best way to put this, how to convince these people that our cause was worth fighting for, yet it's Tyler who saves me as he steps forward into the uncertain fray.

The man before me is improved, more sure of himself-- convinced of his path. 

"This ol' world's sick, we all know it. Anybody who's lived in this city longer'n a minute sure as heck shouldn't be surprised. What we're facin' ain't no end clock—we ain't sittin' here watchin' some timer tick down till we're gone. No, sir. What we've been given is one last chance. Like Nicolas done said before... this here's our chance to make a final stand.

 We ain't got time to spell out every little detail. The truth's been starin' us in the face our whole lives. What we need now is plain 'ol cooperation an' action. It's gonna take every last one of us."

He hesitates, searching the ground before facing Helen and taking her hands. 

"That's it! Superheroes!" He says excitedly. 

Helen blinks at him, uncertain if she wants to be associated with his outbursts. 

"Going to need a touch more detail than that." She attempts, trying to pull it out of him. 

"Why didn't I think of that? Jed, you're a genius!" 

The room falls silent as his excitement rises, and finally, Tyler decides to enlighten us on what's got him so eager. 

"Superheroes don't need no identities. They run 'round all dressed up, an' nobody knows who they really are. They hide behind masks an' costumes, an' they got them superpowers. Red's goin' after Verando an' Nicolas, ain't she?

Well now, how's she gonna tell who's who if we all look the same? Nic's supposed to be dead, but if each one of us pairs up with a lycan an' we find a way to match coat colors... we can blend right in. Nobody'll know who's doin' what, an' ain't nobody gonna track us. All them young lycans pretty much look the same anyhow."  

Helen nods in agreement, "That could work?" She turns her attention to Johnathan, who taps his chin, mulling it over as he slowly paces. 

"I could hold a press conference and be your voice on the inside. Things might get bad at first, but if we can make it look like we are fighting against those mutant savages, it might just work. The whole city is terrified, and word is spreading like wildfire that these things might not be confined to us. If we can get outside support, break through to national news, they can't snuff us out."

Tyler stomps his foot in excitement, "Yes! A press conference! Shoot, ya don't even gotta back it right off the bat—but it's a start. The more we poke that ol' bear, the less she's gonna be mindin' the details. She'll stroll right out in broad daylight... an' that's when we'll have her." 

My focus remains on my warlord, watching as he processes this plan with a calculated silence. It seems pretty optimistic; as I glance around, I note the excited faces, though I can't help but wonder if it's for the plan or because the concept is familiar to them. 

Something that people can relate to is always easier to swallow. 

"Do not underestimate Red, she's not going to give herself up so easily," Verando tells him firmly. "You're putting green with green, untested magic users with untamed lycans. There are going to be mistakes."

"That's where you and Nic can teach us from the sidelines! They can't see you with us, anyway. You're too iconic and somehow, I don't see you dressing up in a costume to blend in. You can teach us here, and we can perform it out there. We can do this." Helen's confidence rings true in her voice, despite his lack of enthusiasm. 

While he'd agreed to step away, having my warlord as a mentor meant bearing the brunt of his unfiltered opinion, and he was an eternal skeptic. 

I resist the urge to chew on the joint of my thumb, shifting my weight to my hip as I try to find the flaw in their plans, but the logic is sound. 

Superheroes?

 Who comes up with this stuff? 

How much time is wasted trying to do things the old way in modern times?

"You can get her to come out," I respond quickly. "Verando, she is going to want round two, you cut her fingers off. When the time is right, we can bait her." His lips press together, as if I were supposed to keep that knowledge to myself. Unapologetic, I turn back towards the group. "We can work out the logistics later; leave it to us. What this group needs to be focusing on is this city." 

They will be the ones who must defend it when we are gone. Any plan that gets them used to our absence was a step forward. 

If one of us dies, they lose both of us. 

Nodding to Tyler, I fade back, allowing him to press Helen forward to claim the space. "Our job now is to start cleanin' up this state. Water, sanitation, purification—that's where we set our focus. But more'n that, it's showin' folks we don't need Red, or anybody like her, tryin' to rule us with whatever she's danglin' over our heads. We aim to live among these people right here. I wanna draw out these critters and make this place safe. I wanna help these communities that have been left behind.

 I aim to build a coalition like this in every state, every city. An' it starts right here with us." 

As I find the wall, full of pride for the young pair, Verando gravitates toward me. They look excited and energized, which is precisely what we wanted. But in the midst of all this, I see Helen shrinking back. Tyler takes center stage, she rubs her arm as he holds her to his side like a child, more than a partner. 

This seems to bother my warlord, yet I can tell by the tightness of his jaw that he'd leave her to fight her own battles. 

My eyes flick towards him as he brushes his nose over my hair, taking in my scent as his arm wraps around me, pulling me to his side despite how I had hoped to keep the distance between us just a little longer. It felt good to touch him again, to absorb his warmth, to give in to the fact that few in the future actually cared about the status of our relationship as long as he wasn't trying to kill them.

"I think I might have made a few wrong decisions..."

"How so?" Verando questions, focused on Helen.

I sigh, sliding my fingers over his arm, savoring the weight of his grasp, the firmness of his body against my side. It was the first time I'd felt safe since I commanded him to walk away from me.

 "Sending you away, picking this over us. I was so worried they would see-" I can only shake my head at myself; it sounds so ridiculous.  "I have wasted so much time when I should have done this in the first place. I was so worried they would find out that we were together, that they would turn against us like the people in our time did. Yet, for the life of me, I really can't think of many who cared about what we were when they found out."

Verando scoffs, slipping off his overcoat and draping it over my shoulders. I happily wrap it around myself, nuzzling my cheek into the collar. "You were afraid they would turn away because of me. I think that's valid considering my reputation."

"They are afraid of you, but... actually, I prefer it that way. People can still obey commands when they're afraid of the consequences, they don't have to like us, and I needed to accept that." Pressing my cheek into his chest, I inhale the intoxicating scent that is uniquely Verando. "Can you forgive me? For being horrible?"

"The Good King, Nicolas Mattescu, admitting he was wrong? Do I have documentation on this?" Verando asks casually, making me wrinkle my nose at him. He bends to kiss my forehead, chaste but thoughtful. "Of course. How does it feel to be obsolete?" 

Watching the pair, surrounded by lycans and magic users bustling with excitement, a portion of me can't help but feel a hint of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. 

Allowing my shoulders to rise and fall dismissively, I manage a half-smirk, determined to let it go. "I think it's unfair. They did it so much quicker than we did, but I guess I should be happy; it just means the times are finally changing, and there is more love than there is hate. What could we have accomplished if we had had this idea? Superheroes... what a thought." 

I feel warm for the first time since I've been here, and instinctively, I inch closer to him. His very presence charges me, sending my magical side into a dormant state as if it finally feels at ease. I can't help but lean into the sweet relief.  

"You know what they say about youth and enthusiasm." He comments, rubbing my bicep, I'm well aware that the chill in my body concerns him. "Let me do my part to help this along."

Dragging me back into the fray, Verando pointedly puts himself next to Helen, who forces herself to straighten upon his noticing his presence. 

"Why don't you two stay here for a bit? There's a lot to do, and this pack is going to need its Alpha if we're going to pair off as you suggest. Tyler can work on developing these people's skills, and Helen, you handle the personality assessments —pair everyone up with a lycan. We can meet back here in two days to review your new findings, and then we can arrange a test run. 

I believe I saw a wooded area a bit down the coast. A hunt might be in order, something to look forward to, yeah?" 

Helen perks up, making the corner of his mouth twitch. "A hunt?! A real hunt?! Like deer?" 

A gentle smile curls onto his lips, her response warming him. Verando had to miss it, or he wouldn't have done it for so long; guiding these young wolves seemed to be a passion more than a pastime. 

"Maybe.. probably something smaller, but you never know. It'd be nice to scout out these woodlands for hunting; lycans eat a lot, and as I'm sure you all know, 'human' food tastes horrible." 

The group grumbles in agreement, and Tyler shudders at the memory of his starving wife. 

I'm shocked by the disconnect my protege displays, where he was so convinced she needed her grandfather's help, now he almost seemed to shy away from that side of her. Helen doesn't comment; she merely smiles with a soft shrug while Tyler appears visibly ill at the thought. 

Was he rejecting the wolf?

As if he noticed the weight of my gaze, Tyler clears his throat, "If it's good for you, baby, then that's what we'll work toward. Nic can give us a crash course while you take your pack huntin'. After that, we'll come back together an' start fixin' this mess. Huntin' them freaks an' rebuildin' our world—shoot, sounds simple enough." 

While Johnathan and the twins don't look so convinced, our small force has quickly become excited about the prospect of standing up for their nation, and that's the first step. 

As the evening comes to a close, the temperature begins to drop, and the crowd starts to disperse. Homes are set up for the lycans, and it doesn't surprise me that these fledglings want to live in only a tiny number of quarters. They've been designated an abandoned hotel, and instructed to stay on the lower floor where the massive apartment-style suites were located. 

I can't help but notice the reluctance in my warlord as he watches them leave, truly relinquishing the hold on them and placing them in Helen's uncertain hands. She stands before us, a large grin on her face now that the small pack has been redirected. 

Turning to Verando, she practically does a little dance of joy, hopping and wringing her hands with as much containment as she can muster. He recoils from her happiness, pulling his eyebrows down as she beams up at him. 

"Ok. I know you're not into the whole.. emotion... but-!" She holds out her hands, gesturing to her and Tyler. "That was pretty Alpha-like!" 

Waiting for calm, he allows a slight nod, and she throws her arms around Tyler to hug him. It would seem the tension had dissipated, whatever was getting to her earlier was smoothed over by her excitement in the passing of the torch. Tyler, slightly more relaxed, seems to be smirking, too. 

"That felt good. Real good. They all seemed to like what we had to say." Tyler summarizes.

"Well, you haven't had to tell them no yet." I remind him, dryly. "But you did a good job; you both did. I must apologize for my shortcomings; I should have just brought everyone together in the first place. We're a week behind now because of my ignorance."   

Tyler touches my arm, giving me a firm squeeze. It's the same presence I saw earlier with Helen, an older brother, and yet a man trying to take control. Sensing my tension, Verando slides between us pointedly, shooting the redhead a warning glance despite his seemingly calm demeanor. 

 Caught off guard, but unwilling to press the issue, Tyler steps back with little fight, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "We didn't know these people, we still don't, but you callin' us in gave us all confidence we weren't about to be ambushed. That, alone, was worth it, Nic."

 I smile back at him, weak as it may be, exhaustion overcomes me, and I want nothing more than to get out of the cold.

Pascal approaches, plucking at my hair from behind. 

"We need to hide you if you're going back. I believe a woman in town can magically color your hair. It's a concealing spell; just for now, it'd be best if you weren't a redhead. It would be helpful if you could match us. All of you." Her eyes stopped on my warlord, whose expression silently dared her to enforce such a rule, and she quickly shirked away.  "Alright. Not all of us." 

"Black for the wolves, that'll match their coat colors." Helen shrugs, unattached to the thought of losing her pale hair. 

I touch my locks and frown. 

Get rid of the red? 

Stealing a broken-hearted look at Verando, he isn't giving anything away, and reluctantly, I nod, instructing him to wait for me by the car as Helen and Tyler follow after me. 

Grayson returns from escorting our lycan friends and quickly jogs up to walk alongside me, eyeing the coat I'd taken from his boss.

"Ah.. you're going back with him?" Grayson asks timidly. 

I'm not quite in the mood to be entertaining, still reeling over the idea of changing a vital part of who I was. "It would seem so." I allow.

We enter the shabby home of a dark-haired woman with long, fake nails. It smells of curry and incense in the small space, mostly filled with trinkets and knick-knacks. She was a collector or possibly a hoarder. 

Pascal introduces us and begins making arrangements for hair color. 

Grayson shifts awkwardly onto his heels, "Do you want to go with him? You don't have to, you know. If you're cold, you could.... erm.. stay with me?" He scrubs a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact. 

I try not to recoil; it isn't that I don't find the man decent-looking, but I find his offer unexpected and off-putting.

"I had just thought that... we were.. You know. Hitting it off pretty well since you've been here. I want to get to know you better- to train, that is."

Pulling the coat tighter around my body, I lean back into the collar to hide from the gaze that I try to convince myself isn't there. It's a battle I fight with myself every time anyone tries to get close. I try not to read into the 'interest, ' and yet, men love to prove me right in every suspicion of their intentions. 

 "I'd like to remind you that I'm engaged, Grayson," I tell him simply, stepping away from him quickly to get to Pascal and this strange woman, who both glare daggers at the timid man. "What did we decide on?"

"Black." The woman rasps, smelling of some floral scent that seems artificial.

"How vibrant." I sigh. 

"Blends in. When you're ready for it to come off, say a releasing spell and ensure you're near water because it'll run."

 Searching the cluttered shelves, she cusses and grumbles, her ample hips swaying and bumping into all the items piled in the cramped space before finally snagging a jar of what looks like ash. 

"Your roots shouldn't show; no need for a touch-up. Don't try to bleach it, it won't work. Now, close your eyes, cutie." 

Making a face, I obediently do so and gag as she blows the dust in my face. Convinced I'm now covered in the stuff, I fan my face and hunt for a mirror that Helen produces. Snatching it with almost too much enthusiasm, I blink away the soot and spot the black tendrils of messy hair where my startling red used to be. 

Frowning, I brush it lightly, but none of the black clings to my skin. 

Bland. 

It darkens my eyes even, giving them a deeper hue. It will have to do; I can't be recognized. Thanking them, I slipped out of the house to leave my companions to their fate, hurrying my pace when I felt Grayson fall into step behind me.

He runs to catch me, walking alongside and twiddling his thumbs as if he had something to say. "Didn't act like you were committed to that guy."

"Public displays of affection aren't my thing," I respond sharply, glaring into the distance for the sports car. "We are professionals with a job to do; you'll do well to remember what will happen to you if he hears you talking to me like this."

"What about just as friends? We will be working together a lot, what about a coffee? Throw me a bone, Nicolas." 

It's a honeymoon phase; I'm the shiny new thing, and he has some god complex he can't escape for whatever reason. 

What truly shocked me was the boldness.

 Did he think my fiancé would allow him to live if he tried to get close to me on that level? 

But, in that same note, I'm reminded that I've never needed anyone to fight my battles for me. I start to slow my pace and feel that urge creeping in. I don't need to run to Verando; I can handle myself. 

Spotting the gray hair in the distance, Verando's leaning up against the hood of his car, and I know he can see me. It's all the courage I need, and I stop, standing my ground as Grayson fumbles forward in surprise. 

"I don't feel comfortable with this. Please keep things professional from now on; it's not my obligation to answer questions about my personal life with you, so please stop asking." 

 I didn't need saving; my salvation was waiting for me only yards away. Enunciating each word, narrowing my eyes, the innocent-looking man watches me, startled. Determined, I storm off, and he remains, and I'm panting when I reach the car. 

Clutching for my door, I jerk the handle roughly as if willing it to open any faster. 

My heart stutters as Verando cautiously grabs my hand, opening the door and allowing me to slide in before closing it behind me. He hesitates for just a moment, facing away from me in the direction that I came before coming around to get in. 

"I'm proud of you. That was very brave."

"Let's just go home. I'm exhausted." I whisper.