In war times, victory is short-lived. To be at war, two sides must participate; otherwise, it's just a takeover. I had experienced firsthand what it was like to have a conqueror come in and strip away the very fabric of my society, burn our culture to ash as it was deemed immoral. 

Even if it had been the right call, taking such medicine was never a simple feat. People of this time had been in the 'take over' phase for far too long, totally reliant on the government; their struggle would be much like my own people. 

It had seemed like the city had all but surrendered to the imposing force of Gabriel, or rather- Caspian.  While it's tempting to retreat to the comfort of the busted pub to wait to have this fight another day, war does not wait, and our time was running painfully short. People had little space to warm up to the idea that their society was crumbling. 

As machines lumber out of hidden passages to repair the damage and the sad look of civilians surrounds us, there would be no retreat today. 

Today, we would not rest; we would restart history, with or without Lux.

The police funnel in to begin dispersing the crowd, and I pine for one of the megaphones an officer uses to corral the civilians back to their everyday lives. Lotta seems to read the situation, uncertain if she can trust me; she must know I'm her only hope, or at least that's what she continues to tell me. 

With the vision of the official pleading that I remember her daughters fresh in my mind, I form an ice block that elevates me above the crowd. The loud crackle of the forming ice caused people to wheel around as if I were going to attack them.

With guns drawn, the officers watch me, their eyes clouded over in a silent realization that they could do no better to protect their people now than five minutes ago. If I wanted to destroy them, I easily could. 

"I meant what I said." I remind them, keeping my voice calm and even. 

Speaking brings warmth to my chilling body, I know I need to recover soon. Even if I'm feeling mighty, the chill of the cold has begun to nip at my fingers and nose. I pull my coat a little tighter around my body, squaring my shoulders in defiance of the weakness pulling at my temperature. 

"We must be prepared to stand against Master and all of his disciples; we can no longer hide from this. I have been waiting for the right moment, but there is never going to be a 'correct' time for war." 

The crowd erupts in panicked murmurs, and the police exchange nervous glances as if they wonder if the crowd will turn on us. Maintaining my calm is what I've been trained to do, becoming a symbol for the people as the 'Good King' was a role I had once thrived in. 

"We can not continue to allow these people to destroy the cities. We must fight back and join forces if there is any hope to overcome this." 

The silence of downtrodden civilians echoes among the dull hum of machines at work. 

"I know that war is frightening, it isn't something anyone should be asked to do but, truly, look amongst yourselves. Is this life you want to live in? Do you want your children to live in a world fueled by hate and division? Look at your city, at your homes." I cast my hand to produce a gentle breeze, they flinch as if I'm trying to poison them. 

"Air. Fresh, clean air that is free of pollution. Your fear is killing you."

Finally, one of the gun-toting men steps forward. "You keep saying 'we'. With all due respect, you are not like us. You are able to perform these feats just as those people did. How can we stand against you and people like you?"

Keeping my composure in the face of revealing a weakness is not the most straightforward task. To show one your cards and hope they don't take advantage was a good deal of trust in people I didn't even know. As I glance towards Pascal, huddled next to Sulema and Ryan standing protectively at my side, I know my duty is to my own people as much as these humans. 

Both sides of the argument rang truthfully in those words. People like me, the significant divide that had been going on for centuries. Us and them. I could almost laugh at the cruelty of history, waiting so patiently for my return. 

"I am a mortal just as you are. I bleed, I hurt, I will live a normal, human life. I have talents like any other mortal, mine are just more outwardly available. Dividing us by the danger that we could pose is the same as damning us for crimes we didn't commit. We must stop fearing each other. There was a time when magic and humans went hand and hand-" I'm interrupted by a secondary militiaman.

He steps beside the first, looking slightly warier. "Your talents aren't something as simple as woodworking. Magic users are dangerous, you defended us today, but you could easily turn against us tomorrow." 

There are murmurs of agreement. I do my best not to look at him with bewilderment as that was the truth for any man. 

"Which is why I propose a lift on the ban on firearms." 

Voices erupt once more, and I wait patiently for a lull in the panic. At least with their fear comes a healthy respect for my tolerance of their interrupting. 

"It must start here. The reality is that today, Magic stood beside Man, and together, we took back this square. I want to take back all of Paris, all of France, I want to reclaim this planet in the name of unity and freedom. You will get your lives and your jobs back, and get rid of these bloody machines that are poisoning us."  

The spark ignites, and the chins begin to lift as my words start to resonate with long-forgotten souls who trudge in and out of mundane jobs in the haze of this endless, dull existence. 

"It's going to take work. It's going to take time, but it has to start today. It's time to liberate the people from the oppressors." The term was universal; the government that sided with me today seemed willing to make changes, yet those changes could be hard to swallow. 

Giving up control in exchange for trust was never easy, especially in a burned society. 

"Honor the Good King!" Ryan shouts, raising his fist. A small reminder of a past life; I felt as though I'd lived this moment before. Pascal and Sulema follow behind him in the chant and the surrounding crowd begins to follow suit. While I didn't want to be a king, the message still stood.

 Freedom to exist had always been at the forefront of my mission. Lotta has a slight smile for me as I step off the block of ice. 

"Let's see how true to your statement you stay." She tilts her head, and I follow the gesture to see the subway and the small group of 'heroes' standing at the entrance. While some don't look nearly as welcoming, the familiar faces of the two tone-haired man and the bird woman stand out. 

They leave their group to approach, I slip away as Lotta begins talking to the Chief of Police as I'm sure they're terrified I'm trying to elicit a riot. 

The bird-woman curtsies. "Avril." She greets, smiling the best she can through her beak. I note that she's now wearing a mask, the same as the man. 

"Fadri." The man nods. "I saw your speech." I fight to understand his French; the accent is thicker than I'm used to. He was testing me, I could assume, as the true Good King knew French and had spent a good deal of time in France. "Do you mean all that? Are you going to help us? I have to admit, we're all a bit skeptical. We've waited for this for so long, it seems to good to be true."

Raising my shoulders lightly and letting them fall, I glance past them to see the uncertainty in the mouth of the subway entrance. "As Albert pointed out, I don't have a team yet." I remind him. "But, I'm going to try with every fiber of my being to fix this, even if I must do it alone. We are on a strict time frame."

Avril frowns, her feathers bristling. "There's talk of the end of days, the vampires have been whispering about it for years."

I nod once. "It's true. Mother had accepted it 400 years ago."

Shaking his head, Fadri runs a hand through his hair as Tiberius joins us. Examining the tattoos peeking out all around the sleeves and jacket on the Siren, he shifts to look at me more directly.

 "We want to help. Not all the heroes will join but I think most will. We have information that could be valuable to you; if this is our only chance, we owe it to these people to give it our best effort." 

Relief washes over me, I quietly thank Verando in my head for the vote of confidence. 

As we head back towards the pub, I leave Lotta with Pascal to gain information from the police and assist with the press. As much as I'd like to revisit my speech, plastering my face all over the news wasn't the message I wanted to send. Inclusive behavior had to start now, Pascal and Lotta could much more easily navigate the softer side of our cause. 

This society didn't need a king, peacekeepers were at the forefront and I was happy to donate mine. Lotta's passion for her people could be put to good use. 

Entering the pub, Harrison greets me with a beer. I'm shocked that the windows are fixed and the boards removed. "You fixed it?"

He nods with a grin, "Robots are quite effective." The thought makes me sick, and I snag the beer. 

"We've got to end these robots. People need their jobs back."

Rolling his eyes, the Irish man grabs a pitcher of the alcohol and some glasses, setting them on the center table as Tiberius sits beside me followed by Fadri and Avril. Ryan and Sulema must have learned their lesson from the night before as they stood guard by the door. Slowly, we were turning into a unit that could function and survive in this world once again. I hadn't realized how I had taken my team for granted until now.

 "One thing at a time, young'in."

"What are you, Fadri?" Tiberius asks curiously.

The man raises a brow, and his body shimmers and wriggles until he becomes a bald man with solid black eyes. The pointed teeth startle me, as much as his alien features. "A shapeshifter." Not like the ones I'd ever seen. Noting my surprise, he shifts back to the form of the man once more. 

Avril touches his hand gently, "Fadri can only shift into people he's seen, but once he's touched you, he can take on your likeness and abilities. He can mimic fighting technique and mannerisms from a simple touch."

"Impressive," I note. "Most shapeshifters I knew were pranksters; you seem... very- well, I don't want to sound rude, but mature?"

With a smirk, Avril elbows him. Fadri shrugs, "Being a superhero has given me purpose. I was a criminal beforehand. That's where I got this skin, a guy I used to work for back when I was working with Master. He's attractive, so people tend to accept him. Besides, it tends to get me what I want if we ever need to infiltrate Master or Caspian's ranks." 

And just like that, Fadri's value to me exploded. 

Knowingly, the bird-woman seems much more impressed with his abilities than Fadri himself. "He's quite remarkable."

"That's what I'd like to offer you. I know where Caspian's men are going. If you're serious about doing this, about taking back Paris, we will need to hit them where they live. Caspian runs the machine factory that supplies the robots on the streets, he also had ties into the railways. Everything said in those cars goes straight to him. If you want to get rid of the machines... you need to destroy that building."

Suspicious, Tiberius drums his fingers on the table casually, and I must admit, I'm also curious. We could very easily walk right into a trap; I doubted my ability to go toe to toe with that psycho-lycan. I had been very lucky that, save for Verando and Caspian, most of the lycans I had met had been at least tolerant of me. 

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Tiberius asks, tapping his chin lightly as he starts to hum.

With a sigh, Fadri doesn't crack, the theatrics from the street when we first met him were gone. Would this be the 'real' man and the other was saw was a projection of his 'skin'? Why had he looked so terrified? "Trust, just as I must trust you. I want to see Caspian and Master brought to justice just as badly as you do. I have.. interests... to think of." 

Avril seems to glance away at this; it always seems to surprise me how many relationships were divided by these laws. It seemed a good deal of our supporters fought for their loved ones just as much as their freedom. 

"With magic users illegal, I can't really be seen above ground unless I'm in my uniform," Avril explains, answering my own thought. 

Tiberius nods, "They said all of that right through my song. If they were lying, they would have spoken it."

Fadri looks stunned, "What are you? I've seen you play music.. your songs make people do... strange things." 

Avril giggles at the thought, and the man rolls his eyes in embarrassment. 

"I'm a Siren." Tiberius coos innocently, shrugging as if it were no big deal. "Practically a god." 

Shaking my head, I pull the topic back to our goal. "So you'd take us to Caspian's men? I don't know if we'd have enough to take on a warehouse. Perhaps in a few days, but I'd like to keep them on the run." 

He sits in silence, stone-faced, as he calculates before setting his jaw.

"Nicolas. I want to be very clear with you. I will do whatever it takes to stop Caspian. I'm not interested in putting his men on the run but in stopping them. There are three sides to this war: humans who want to kill magic users, magic users who want to kill humans, and the rest of us who want to survive. Anyone who wants to kill who I love is someone who goes against what we believe in, what I hope you believe in." 

I had worried I'd meet someone like this.

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as I settle in for the long haul of this argument. "Killing people puts us no better than the government we are trying to stop. I believe in taking necessary life, but killing people in cold blood before they can even get the option to switch sides? You did, didn't you? So surely they shouldn't all be condemned." 

Fadri slams his hand and causes Avril to jump. His shape begins to shiver; he's no longer the two-tone hair man; he's once more his proper form. Flashing his teeth, I hear a sliver of a growl rolling on his tongue. 

"They eat people, your Majesty. Vampires at first, but now, Caspian himself. They are goddamn cannibals. They wish to farm humans; they wish to keep a damn food source. Master is not even aware of the atrocities that go on. If you and I must go by ourselves, I suggest you truly consider my offer because I would happily do it. When no more humans are left, when the world is turned to ash and burning around us, Caspian will turn to us when his hunger can no longer be satisfied. All he does is consume-"

Tiberius's face pales. He pushes away from the table and stands to pace. Fadri guards Avril with his arm, but I quickly lift my hand to stop him; Tiberius means no harm. "What is it, Tiberius?"

"Consume..." he murmurs. "He wants to consume; he wants the world to end..." He shakes his head, his body practically trembling. Fadri pulls his lips into a thin line, and I can't truly offer much assistance; I'm also at a loss. When we don't react, Tiberius appears enraged. 

"Consume!" He snaps angrily. "The end of days. Fenrir. I had thought it was Hati and Skoll; perhaps it was at first, but now... there is only one reason Tyr would have returned to this world. It makes sense now. Caspian has not been returned through the means of which you did, Nicolas." He shakes his head, his skin white and brow beading with sweat. 

"Tiberius, what are you talking about?" I demand, not wanting to spook our new companions. 

"Fenrir, the devourer of worlds. When Fenrir was born, the prophecy was written. He grew larger with each thing he consumed, a wolf on a rampage. While he seemed on the side of the gods, one could not be so confident; he would eventually grow big enough to consume everything—even a god.

The gods decided it was best to apprehend Fenrir before anything came to pass. Loki was upset, but being the god of Mischief, he was already on poor terms with Odin. But Fenrir had already grown too large by the time they realized what must be done. So, they made a pact with Tyr, convinced him that Fenrir would consume all humans, which Tyr cared deeply about. 

Tyr and Fenrir were best friends, for Tyr was the only one the wolf could trust. A chain was fashioned, one carved in the forges of dark elves; we called them dwarves. It was made to be light as silk and strong as a hundred gods. 

 Tyr banished him to the underworld through a trap, resulting in losing his hand, for he promised the beast nothing would happen to him with the dawning of the chains. Fenrir has been damned to the bottom of the sea ever since."

 I wasn't expecting Tiberius to be so forthcoming with ancient Norse lore. 

"Caspian has become a vessel for the one who is said to devour the planet.. to begin Ragnarok." 

His voice grows quiet as he slowly sinks back into his chair. 

"The fate of the gods..." he whispers. "We can't stop this. Not with a beast scorned as he is, he will stop at nothing... "

I had thought we had already established this. Carefully, I reach to touch his trembling hand. "You knew this when you came back to earth; that's what we're trying to prevent."

Tiberius shakes his head quickly, swallowing back the dryness in his throat. "Don't you understand? It is written. If this is Ragnarok, we can not stop it. The earth will restart, but for that to happen, all must perish. I had thought Tyr had come here to stop the mischief of Hati and Skoll but it could be very possible that he came here to stop Fenrir before he grew too large."

 Clutching his head in his hands, he slumps onto his elbows with a heavy sigh. 

Impressively calm, Fadri leans in. "Tyr, remind me who that is again?"

"The God of War. He has a vessel named Lux in France. We must find him; he will help unite our armies... it's-" I stop myself. I'm telling a stranger all this, yet I feel like I can trust Fadri even though I hardly know him. Staring into the black eyes and seeing the almost emotionless face, all that remains is the sincerity in his voice. 

While he might want to see the end of those who wish to harm us, I can't say I don't admire his passion. "Fadri, you might be the exact person we have been looking for to help us."

Turning to Tiberius, I tighten my jaw and place my hand on his shoulder. "Whitewind would not have sacrificed himself if there was no hope." 

This seems to settle him off the brink of hysteria. Who was this creature that it could cause such panic in only moments of uttering its name? 

"I'm not about to lose to the likes of Caspian."