The Emperor

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I can't stop seeing it.

The sand rises up from the ground, swallowing everything in sight. The armies of dragons charge toward each other, buried in the onslaught of dust.

The earth cracks apart, bright light spreading up from the ground.

The wind breaks the trees like toothpicks.

Fire emanates out from the centre of a battlefield. It scorches everything in sight, incinerating dragons to ash in a matter of seconds–my metal soldiers no different beneath the face of its wrath than any other.

This maelstrom descends upon my beautiful dome, breaking the barrier into pieces; puncturing even my strongest magic.

If I still had a heart, it would be racing. I have finally met an enemy I stand no chance at defeating.

***

"The future I see troubles me greatly, Whiteout," I say, staring out at the kingdom, watching the smoke pour from the factories, clogging the streets. The industry, the grandness of it all; built entirely in my image.

"Mmm," Whiteout says, nodding.

I still can't tell what she's thinking. I still hate her for what she did, but I got bored quickly without her company. I think she fears me less now I don't have her brother in my custody, like the thought of the things I could do to her doesn't even bother her a bit. How strange.

Maybe she just knows I'm too lonely to kill her off.

No, I'm not lonely. I'm just–alone. There's a difference.

"The world is going to end, and I can't figure out how to stop it. You don't have any advice, do you?"

"I'm sure that you'll untangle the threads," Whiteout says halfheartedly. "How about the scorpions? How are they treating you?"

I bury my face in my talons. The wind up here is so loud, the tower so high, and I hate to admit it but it scares me a little. I know nothing can kill me, but looking over the edge, I still feel that lurch in my stomach. I don't even have a stomach anymore. Stupid.

"I'll win, with far more effort than this should have taken. It's ridiculous, Whiteout, ridiculous." I look over at her. "I am the most powerful dragon in Pyrhhia, and these Gifted dragons are making a fool of me."

I shake my head, sighing so heavily I can hear the gears rattle in my chest.

"You do think I'm the most powerful dragon in Pyrhhia, don't you, Whiteout?"

"Of course," she says wearily.

"Exactly. There's no way around it. So why, pray tell, am I struggling to take Scorpion Den?"

"You could snuff out their flames," Whiteout points out.

"No, no, no–I have to prove I can do this. If I take away their powers, it'll look like I can't handle some–some useless balls of fluff whose magic so underpowers my own."

"Then why not make your fire burn brighter?"

I've been trying–working all day on a new model of NightWing soldier, impervious to flame even up to thousands and thousands of degrees; one that wouldn't melt even if I were to chuck that armour into the sun. Other things are harder–like the vines, or the earthquakes, or the floods. I don't want to patch together a messy solution, I want an elegant fix that dragons will marvel over for centuries to come.

"It takes time," I hiss. "It's hard to do when I can't pull them back from the battlefield. You should know that, Whiteout."

"Of course," Whiteout says, staring out at the kingdom. "Of course."

***

I have laid the dining room out beautifully–I've brushed away the dust from the chandelier with the flick of my talon, cast the room in a silver-white glow from above. I've set five places–once for myself, one each for the leadership of the New Star.

I have prepared for an evening to outshine all others.

I don't need their help.

I don't.

I flick my wrist, the wall opening up to allow my guests to enter. Gingerly, my four worst enemies walk into the Great Hall, puny and useless against my might.  I stare into Gaze's eyes for a moment, zeroing in on her thoughts. Ever since the new body, it's been easier and easier to control my power. No longer do I feel as though being swept away. 

I hope we're making the right choice.

Gaze is thinking about her catastrophic love. She's thinking about her parents. She's thinking about the visions. The visions–

I flinch, backing away from her mind. 

I don't want to hear the visions. I straighten my posture, banishing even the thought from my mind.

"Lucidgaze. Epiphany. Dreamsinger. Brightmind. I've been awaiting you. Take a seat."

As I say it, an elaborate feast appears before them. They sit at their places, their names written on little cards, but none of them take a bite. I made sure the spread would be personally tantalizing to each one of them–Gaze's father's apple pie rests at the centre of the table; lamb prepared just like Epiphany remembers from her childhood; the croissants Brightmind used to get at the bakery; the soup Dreamsinger used to prepare for her sister on winter nights.

"Sharp-eyes, what is this? What are you doing?" Gaze asks, wrinkling her snout.

For a moment, I imagine tearing her eyes out. Imagine breaking her neck. Imagine–

Such acts of violence are senseless, I remind myself. Illogical. And she still has a use to me.

I'm not like Vigilance or Allknowing. I will not allow emotions to carry me away.

"I wanted to speak to you. Come on, eat. We may be enemies in ideology, but you are still dragons under my rule."

I'm better than all of you. You will be footnotes in the scrolls they will write about me one day. My legacy will reign immortal while yours will crumble.

"This is poisoned," Epiphany says. "This is definitely poisoned."

"If I wanted to kill you, there would be far less dramatic ways. Now, tell me--how's your little democracy going? It's an interesting idea, I must admit. I hadn't heard about that one in quite some time."

"Drop the act, Sharp-eyes," Gaze snaps. "We know you know everything. You don't need to be asking us these questions."

"We just had our first debate," Dreamsinger offers. 

"Mmm. Yes. I made the time to watch; it seemed like such a momentous occasion."

Dreamsinger reluctantly nibbles at one of the delicate little pastries on the table, and I know she's impressed.

That one, she's spent her whole life scrimping and saving and doing without. Her mind is constantly spinning through what's needed and what's not, upcoming responsibilities and ongoing headaches that have to be resolved. For someone who's not even fully grown, she has aged beyond her years. She's never known a life of only looking out for herself.

There's something about her that feels so, so desperate. For respite, for peace and quiet. For the guarantee of safety.

I know what you want.

Brightmind looks over at her worriedly, like she'll keel over any moment. I've been watching those two, and their fledgling romance–as fragile as it is intense. Both of them are scared each day they'll wake up and find the other gone.

Brightmind will be a tougher nut to crack. I don't understand this dragonet, beyond that they're more similar to Lucidgaze than either would like to admit.

They pour themselves a water, sipping at it lightly. I gesture."See? Look at them, they're fine."

You are powerless. You can do nothing against my magic. No amount of protests will make us equals, no pretty words will put us in the same league.

Gaze reluctantly takes a sip of wine. Epiphany stares at the lamb like she's contemplating her demise.

Not yet. Soon, I remind myself.

I want to rub it in her face: I am winning this war and you can't even run your revolution. How does that make you feel?

"This is all fake food, isn't it?" Brightmind asks.

"I made it, yes. Does that matter?"

They're silent.

"You underestimate me. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. On the contrary, I thank you–you've provided a wonderful outlet for the day-to-day irritations of my most problematic underlings. It's done wonders to help me out. Now, let me cut to the chase: I have brought you all here today because there's something I want from each of you, and there's something I believe I have to offer you in turn."

I meet each of their eyes.

Brightmind, their influence.

Dreamsinger, her trust.

Lucidgaze, her visions.

Epiphany, her talons.

"If you're settled in, I'll be speaking to each of you. Alone. Thank you for your cooperation."

They all disappear from the table as soon as the words leave my mouth.

***

"Hello, Brightmind," I say pleasantly. I thought it would be better t deal with my most difficult target first.

I spent so long designing this room–debating whether to make it look like the old New Star headquarters, or the spot they used to hang out with Shadowhunter as a dragonet. Eventually, I decided nothing would upset them more than the room their Dragonets for the Crown group used to meet in. The desks are arranged in neat rows, NightWing insignia plastered to every available surface, paintings of Vigilance looking down her nose at the class from the head of the room. They remember feeling so trapped and angry here. They've taken their spot at the back of the class, just like they used to; I sit down at the desk beside them.

"How did you do this?" They ask, their voice shaking a little.

"Just took a little research. I thought you'd feel most comfortable this way," I say pleasantly.

Their mind is made of lightning, their thoughts almost overtaking my own.

Gaze is right–we can get something out of this. Three moons, she's so much smarter than I am–I have no idea what I'm doing.

Does he have Supernova? They've been wondering about their brother (a member of Darkstalker and Clearsight's cabinet) and his whereabouts for so long, they've almost written off getting him back.

Three moons, what if he does know? What if this is it?

I'm trying my best. That's all that matters. I've done a damn good job now, at least for the situation. Just make it through this alive, Brightmind. Just–

"I'm not going to hurt you. I want to speak to you, that's all. I understand that you're vying for control of the New Star, is that right?"

They blink, startled by my frankness. "How much of my life have you been watching?"

"I have better things to do than pay attention to every single argument you have down in those tunnels. But I tune in on occasion–I caught the debate. You did incredible. You know, you and I have a lot in common."

Brightmind glares at me.

This isn't going to work–their resolve is too strong. They're too desperate; they've already sunk their life into this cause.

"I highly doubt that. Where's my brother? He was on the council, and I haven't heard from him since your coup. If you want to have a civil discussion with me, you can start there."

They're lying; they'll never do business with me. Just sharing a room has them buzzing with fury. They hate me, more than anything on this earth.

Well, that's because they don't really know me. They would love me, if only they knew who I really was. If they could see the golden era I'll usher this continent into. They're too small-minded to understand, that's all.

They followed Darkstalker and Clearsight, didn't they? I took the best parts of their regime and cut out the rot. I emerged like a phoenix from the wreckage of the past. I saved my kingdom, and this is the thanks I get?

Yeah, I know–I bet you think it too.

"Your brother is alive. He's in the council chamber, advising me on the issues of this Empire. He's doing a great job. You have no reason to worry."

Brightmind balks. "Excuse me? I'm just supposed to take your word for it? If that's the case, why can't I see him? Actually, scratch that–if you want anything from me, you'll let him go."

"Well, Brightmind, I just might. If you do something for me."

Brightmind's mouth twists in disgust.

I am to be revered. I have achieved things in my rule that dragons even a decade ago wouldn't have dreamed of. I am the main character of this story, and you're a distraction.

"What do you want, then?"

I step closer to them, standing by the window, overlooking the city.

"Right now? Nothing. But down the line, I will ask you for a favour, and you will have no choice but to oblige."

I hold out my talon, glowing silver through the cracks in the metal.

Brightmind recoils.

"I won't be in your debt. Get lost, Sharp-eyes."

"Not even for your brother? He's well cared for now, but in the future, my kindness might run out. I could kill him with the flick of my wrist–you do know that, don't you?"

They freeze, horrible scenarios I never would have dreamed up flashing through their mind.

He's my brother, but this cause is far more important than one dragon.

The New Star under my command is the only hope this kingdom has.

"My answer doesn't change," they say, clearing their throat. "I'm not giving you anything."

"All right, then," I say with a sigh, standing up from my desk. "Have it your way."

With just a thought, I send them straight home.

***

"Dreamsinger," I say, appearing at the centre of her meeting room. This one was harder to design. Dreamsinger has spent so long caring for the needs of others, she's hardly had the time to think about what she wants. She lives for music, for the rare moments on a stage where the whole world fades to black and all that's left is her and a song. She's not half-bad, either–I've brought her into the palace a few times to entertain me.

But evoking that feeling won't make her most likely to obey me. Instead, I made my room look like the daycare her little sister goes too, devoid only of dragonets. Stardancer almost died in the attack Nebula did recently; I know that Dreamsinger's fear for her little sister's wellbeing is through the roof.

Her mind is constantly ticking, running through things she has left to do despite her aching limbs and tired mind. Stardancer's so upset after the attack, I should never have left her alone while I was gone. Moons, Mom and Dad would be so disappointed seeing how I'm raising her I just don't have the time, I don't have the energy, no one else has to deal with this but me, why can't I just be seven and normal–

Sharp-eyes is going to kill her if I don't give him what he wants.

I can't let her down again I've already done it so many times she's gonna be a mess when she grows up and it's all because of me moons Dreamsinger don't let it show, keep it together. Just be normal. Just get through this and go home and try not to collapse from exhaustion moons we weren't supposed to get tired anymore but I just want ten minutes of SILENCE for the love of–

"Sharp-eyes. What are you doing? This is my sister's daycare, why would you–"

"I thought you would feel most comfortable in a familiar environment."

I wave my talon, summoning a table in the centre of the room.

"What do you want?" She asks sharply.

"I want to offer something to you," I say. "You're overwhelmed, I can see that. I feel for you, Dreamsinger–it can't be easy, being a mother to a dragonet you never asked for when you're still a dragonet yourself. Vigilance forced you to be an adult when you were only five, and you've hated the monarchy ever since. Who wouldn't? And now, you hate me, because I make you work sixteen-hour days and then in the few hours you're home, you're desperately running between the New Star and your sister and you barely have time to breathe... and then you're back at the grindstone, again. So let me make it better. Your workdays could be reduced–you'd have time again. Wouldn't that be nice? To write songs, to see your friends, to be young."

She glares at me. "You'd never do that for me."

"I could give you a bigger apartment, I know it's driving you crazy how small it is in yours. I could reunite you with that uncle of yours who used to help out with Stardancer–he's off fighting in the war right now, but he could come home. Maybe if you play your cards right, I'll make it so you don't even have to work at all. Everything will be provided for; everything will be good."

She's silent for a long time. looking around the room–the low scroll shelves designed for ease of access for the dragonets, the pillows by the windows, the toys littered on the floor.

"I'm not stupid. I know you're not just going to do that out of the goodness of your heart."

"All I ask is that you follow the social contract we all do–I give you a favour, you owe me one in return."

I hold out my talon to her, blue smoke rising around the black metal.

"Shake my talon, Dreamsinger, and I'll make your life beautiful."

She recoils. "No, no, I can't–I shouldn't–B would be so mad at me, I have to–I have to–"

"Brightmind isn't raising your sister. Brightmind has a father left, Brightmind has a future ahead of them. You have nothing. They will never understand like I do. You have to look out for your family before anyone else, Dreamsinger."

"You're going to ask me to do something awful, aren't you?" she whispers. "Kill somebody, plant a bomb–"

"I can do those things perfectly well myself. I promise, I will never ask you to do anything violent."

Beside us, the apparition of her sister appears. She's sitting by the window, reading a scroll and humming to herself, her wing still injured from the bombing.

"What happens if I say no?"

"Nothing. Then you go back to your life. You work and work and work until your sister hates you for never having patience or time, until your talons are so tired you collapse on the floor and can't get back up again, until your relationship crumbles, until your whole life becomes fighting a battle you will never win."

She's silent, tears welling in her eyes.

"I know what you did, with the votes. You lied–it would have been an even split, exactly 53 votes for each candidate. But one blew into the river, and you knew it was for Gaze, and you could have gotten it back but you didn't. And then after you counted the votes, you thought it looked too close, so you got rid of one more so your partner could win; your love none the wiser. But you don't feel guilty–that's what amazes me. Most dragons would."

Dreamsinger grimaces, looking away from me. "I'm not proud of it. I just–I think that this is too important to mess around. I only did it once, I won't do it again. I can't come clean; it would send the whole group into chaos, and we can't afford that right now. Gaze's plan would make us obsolete. I'm trying to save the world, or–at least give my sister a better future. I didn't–I didn't do a bad thing."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Of course not. But you have to know that I know. And I won't tell anyone, for now–but if you say no to me, I could. I could ruin your relationship–you can't see the future, so let me tell you, when Brightmind finds out you lied to them that way, they just can't look at you the same. Your most precious relationship crumbles soon after. And the New Star just implodes–dragons are furious that you lied, and it makes Gaze and Brightmind's supporters even more divided than they already are. You know this, you don't need me to explain it to you."

Dreamsinger looks a little nauseous.

"But none of that has to happen. I will keep your secret forever if you choose to be my friend. I treat my friends very well in the Empire of Nyx."

She's crying a little, and I resist the urge to slap her. Oh, don't be so dramatic.

"Shake my talon, Dreamsinger, and your wildest dreams will come true. Who knows where I can take you? I could make you famous. I could make sure your songs were known all across Nyx."

She reaches out hesitantly.

"You swear, you won't make me hurt anybody?"

"On my life."

That's not what I need of her anyway.

She winces as she shakes my talon. It only lasts a moment, but that's all it takes, hers glowing silver to match mine, smoke rising from the places we meet.

She drops my talon like it's on fire. That's all it takes: now, she's mine, forever.

"You have to promise me no one will know," she pleads. You shouldn't have done that, you shouldn't have done that, you're going to regret that Dreamsinger, you are–What are we gonna tell B?

No. I had to. I'm doing it for Stardancer. Anyone would have done the same. If I said no, he would have just forced me to agree anyway...

I look down at my new ally, smiling slightly.

"Don't worry–this stays between you and I. Thank you so much for your cooperation."

***

And then, there's Lucidgaze. She's the one I've really been waiting for. I find her in Clearsight's old classroom, perfectly preserved: her notes on the chalkboard, her plants hanging from the ceilings and sitting in pots by the circular windows, the skylight open to the heavens, the stars shining through...

Gaze is staring up at them, her eyes welled with tears. She doesn't even notice when I walk in.

The stars, she marvels. I haven't seen them in so long...

She remembers being young in this classroom–how back in those days, it was her favourite place in the whole world. Just being back here brings a sense of calmness to her she hasn't felt since she left it. She thinks, I hope Clearsight is okay. I hope she runs away and never looks back.

I hope she comes here and saves us all, because I don't know what I'm doing. I really never did–

I step forward, a floorboard creaking. She flinches, turning around to face me.

"I thought you'd appreciate this little time capsule. I loved this classroom too."

She hates having something in common with me. Just like you do.

"What do you want, Sharp-eyes?"

"That's Emperor Sharp-eyes to you," I remind her, just to make her angry. Her emotions are so easily inflamed. I wonder how hard it would be to push her into another excruciating round of visions.

No. We have more important things to discuss.

"Oh, you are so petty," she scoffs. "You think you're so cold and rational now, but you're the same dragon who put bees into my locker as an act of revenge. You are the most easily angered fool I've ever met."

"That was a long time ago, Gaze. If you recall, you were the one who stole my lunches for a week when I won the Highest Grade Average award and you didn't."

"You have no proof I did that," Gaze mutters.

"Are we seriously playing this game?"

We both glare at each other for a moment.

Why can't we just cut to the chase? What game is he trying to play? she thinks.

I take a deep breath, feeling it rattle through my gears. I am more machine than dragon. I don't care about any of this.

"Sit with me," I say, pulling two of the desks together.

Gaze sneers. I imagine gripping my talons around her neck and not letting go until her face turned blue.

"If you help me, I'll let you see Heartfire. I know that you want to."

Gaze's eyes widen. "What have you done to him? You turned him into someone I don't even recognize. He was my friend. He would never do your dirty work willingly."

"Oh, his talons were never clean. If you knew who he used to be, I doubt you'd be so merciful."

How dare you act as though he's somehow better than my regime?

"I know him far better than you do," Gaze refutes.

"Do you want to see your friend or not?"

She's lucky I'm using the carrot and not the stick.

"Yes," she admits, and the flash of desperation in her eyes reminds me why I thought this was the best tactic.

"Look, we both know why I brought you here," I say, sitting down at the table across from her. "It wasn't to bicker. It was because the world is going to end, if we don't do anything about it, and that scares you as much as it scares me."

I hate admitting my weakness to her, even though she already knows. She might know me better than any living dragon in the world.

"You're the one with magic," Gaze says, meeting my eyes with cold indifference. "Don't act like you don't have the power to stop this."

"You think I'd be asking you for help if I could fix it alone?" I hiss.

No, but I hoped... If his magic can't stop this, I don't know what can, she thinks.

"Oh, stop rubbing it in," I snap. "Just tell me everything you know."

Gaze sighs heavily, resting her talon on her chin. "I know that it starts with these disasters, before–it's like the world blinks fully out of existence. I think that's where it ends, but I can't be sure. It's all so chaotic, and it keeps changing. It feels..."

She holds her breath. I know what she wants to say.

Inevitable.

"I know that Epiphany is a part of it. Somehow," she admits.

Hmm. That's one thing I hadn't seen. As she says it, the face of Gaze's newest plaything flashes through my mind. There's something Epiphany needs to tell me; but the visions are so distorted, I can't make out what. I want to rip out the circuits of my brain and start all over.

"Do you think she's the one who causes it?"

All I'm able to discern is that whatever she does to kickstart armageddon, it's coming soon.

"No, that's never been it," Gaze mutters. She buries her head in her talons. "It's more like... she's the first domino that falls."

"But you haven't told her."

"I don't want to scare her."

"You love her, don't you? That's so hypocritical–the revolutionary who loved the princess."

"Pif isn't–I don't care what you think about my life." Gaze glares at me, as though I'm the source of every wrong in her stupid little life. "This is not her fault. It's got to do with magic, at the end of the day," Gaze mutters. "There's too much of it—it's out of control. You're part of it—I just know you are."

"That doesn't make sense. You've been having these visions since you left for the desert, when I was just an ordinary seer."

"Well, whatever it is, you're not helping," she snaps. "The visions are getting worse. It feels like it could happen any day now."

"More like months. You're being dramatic," I snipe, just to disagree with her.

"You really have no clue how to stop this," Gaze says, shaking her head. "Absolutely none."

"It's not about ideas—I can't find a pathway where this is avoidable. I can't see anything—it's like staring into the sun."

"Then how much good have your powers ever been?" she snaps. 

How dare she?

If she won't help me, then I'll make her. I'll show her who's really in control.

I still have power. I am still in control.

"Play with me, Gaze." I gesture, and a chessboard appears on our makeshift table.

He really just brought me here to be petty. Moons, he hasn't changed a bit.

"Oh, what, you want to rub it in? Fine—you won the chess championship. But I was so close to winning, it was a difference of seconds."

I laugh. I can't help it; suddenly remembering how that championship felt like the whole world to me. I haven't thought about it in years.

A board appears before us.

"Come on—for old times' sake. I promise, I'll go easy." I chuckle, arranging the pieces on the board. "You take black, I'll take white."

"So you get to go first?" she mutters.

"Don't be so petty."

"Why is this board so weird?"

Every square corresponds to an area of Scorpion Den around which the battle is raging, the checkerboard arranged over a map.

"I thought I'd get a little creative, Lucidgaze."

She wrinkles up her snout. She really hates when I call her that.

The pieces are almost more like miniature sculptures. If she looked closely, she'd find that my side of the board has a NightWing and many SandWings and even a SkyWing. That all of her pieces are stunning replicas of my soliders.

I move my queen forward, the one that looks like Permafrost. They're fighting around the city centre right now. I can picture it in my mind, see through the eyes of my soldiers. Permafrost is leading the battle—she's spraying frostbreath in a circle in a city square in an attempt to extinguish the raging fire, she's surrounded on all sides, and no matter what they throw at her, she still won't bleed.

"You can't jump your queen over the other pieces," Gaze critiques.

"I just did. Your move."

She scrunches up her snout. Taps her claws against the table. Moves one of my NightWings forward.

Enchant these pieces to move my soldiers in correspondence with her choices.

One of my soldiers lunges for Permafrost, knocking her off the rubble she was standing on.

Good move.

Permafrost retreats, and I move her piece back.

I stare down at the board. In the battle, a SandWing whose scales crackle with flame lunges for one of my NightWings, melting their armour. I need to solve that issue, but part of me can't be bothered–I'll win regardless; she can't scale her power enough for it to matter to me. I move her piece forward to mirror her action. 

Gaze thinks for a moment, then takes the dragon on fire with a solider who used to be named Thoughtful.

In the battle, his talons slash across the face of the dragon on fire. I hope she dies; I have enough revisions I need to make to my soldiers as is.

That's right.

I will still be remembered.

She's bleeding bad. One of her eyes got scratched. She's calling out for Marigold, but she doesn't come, and Ember lies there, teetering at the edge of consciousness, unable to see.

She's out of the picture.

I knock that piece down, letting it clatter onto the floor.

Gaze moves one of her pieces forward, taking mine. "You're losing, miserably."

I grin. I'm winning, and you don't even know it.

"As my dear friend Whiteout would say, it's all a matter of perception."

"Right."

She moves one of her pieces forward. In the battle, one of my soldiers goes in for the attack, driving a spear through the heart of some dragon who summons vines out from the earth.

I knock over another one of my pieces.

Gaze moves one of her soldiers forward. The Gifted entangle her soldier in vines. A crack forms down the centre of the square.

Through the board, a fault line forms to mirror it, swallowing up that piece, along with a few others. Little fake drops of rain fall from the fake sky.

"What is this?" Gaze snaps. "I don't understand. What's happening?"

What is he up to?

"Do you want to see your friend or not?" I ask. I move one of my pieces forward to mirror her own–Permafrost again. I don't understand how she can be so useful for a dragon with a power so ordinary. Her ice has a knack for getting stuck in my soldiers' armour, rendering them unable to move for a few moments.

Gaze glares at me. Moves one of her soldiers forward. In the battle, that dragon slashes someone's throat. Another one of my pieces falls.

"Don't you care?" she snaps. "You're losing."

I say nothing.

The disasters surrounded my army, but Gaze makes them do things I would never have thought of. They swarm around Permafrost, pushing her into the fault line. She'll live, but it makes me happy to see her fail. You're not perfect, you're not infallible.

Where's your little girlfriend now?

The casualties mount, one of the worst battles The Gifted have had so far. It all comes down to numbers. And then, suddenly, Permafrost calls for a retreat.

Just like that, they're gone, their pieces disappearing off the board.

I grin.

"I should have gotten you to work for me, Gaze," I say, standing up.

"What?"

"You just won a battle for me." I wave my talon across the window, and I show her her handiwork–the square, burning, the dragons lying dead. "Not that I couldn't have done it on my own, but sometimes even the best minds need.... input. I appreciate it."

Gaze's mouth hangs open in horror. She looks back at the board, disgusted. "No, no, I–no–you're messing with me. This isn't real, it can't be."

"You know what you did. You're good at this, Lucidgaze–just like you used to be."

She starts laughing, stepping away from the board. "When you were seven, you forged a letter pretending my entire family had been executed by Queen Vigilance and put it in my locker. You're a liar, Sharp-eyes–you always have been and you always will be."

"Only after you made me think I failed all my finals. I'm not the aggressor here, and it's not a lie."

Her eyes meet the black voids where mine used to be.

She lunges for me, for a moment managing to knock me over. But there's no fire in her attack. She knows she can't really hurt me, just like the Gifted know they can't really win.

I toss her back. "Go. I'm done with you. You can see your little friend now, if you please–he's right down the hall."

If Gaze can't help, no one can. She's the last seer of any merit whose powers I haven't drained, and hers are useless–which is why I let them stay in the first place.

***

I keep my promise to Gaze, against my judgement. Maybe I'll need her again, for something or other–and if you're going to bribe someone, you have to be sure they know you'll keep your word.

I'm a saint for this. She's been nothing but ruthless to me, and I've rewarded her with charity.

The dragons in my streets might call me a villain now. Maybe you do, too. But the tide is turning. The truth will always win out in the end–that I am a hero, and I am going to save us all. It's coming, mark my words.

Gaze's bleeding heart has done nothing for our Empire.

I stand alone in Clearsight's classroom, setting the windows to show Gaze and Heartfire's meeting just down the hall. I fashioned their room in a hurry, to look like Heartfire's old living room. I thought it would make Gaze feel even more empty.

When she sees him, her eyes well with tears. I wish I could hold her head underwater til the light leaves her eyes. You have nothing to cry over.

"Heartfire," she breathes. "It's been so long. Do you–do you still know who I am?"

Heartfire stares at her blankly. "You are Lucidgaze, leader of the New Star. The Emperor told me all about you."

"No, no," Gaze says, reaching forward, gently resting a talon on his shoulder. He swats her away, she grabs on firmly to his talons. "I used to work for you. You lifted me out of–nothing. If you hadn't helped me, my life would never be what it is today. You were my best friend. I helped you–plan your schedule and manage your house and your job, and I listened to all your stories for years. Don't you remember?"

Heartfire shakes his head. "The Emperor hasn't deemed it relevant for me to have that memory."

For a moment, I see it–a flash of the rash, crazy dragon Gaze used to be. The one who burned down the city square to make a point, who reduced the royal wedding into a heap of ash. She calms herself, settling down beside Heartfire. "What do you remember?"

"Nothing before the day of the coup. It makes me more able to perform my duties for the Empire," Heartfire recites.

"Then–then let me tell you," Gaze says frantically. "You were a soldier when you were young. You had a wife, Grace–you loved her a lot, but you messed things up with her. One day, she just left–flew across the sea to find the Lost Continent and never came back. You always wanted a family, but you never got to have one. You worked at the palace most of your life–you were even there when Queen Vigilance hatched."

He shows no recognition. See? My magic is far more powerful than your pathetic little prophecies ever will be.

I still have control.

"I don't need to hear about this. I'm leaving–I have to serve the Empire."

Gaze blocks the door, locking it. "No. Not until you've heard this."

I can't help but laugh at her. It's not going to work. You can't overpower me.

She continues. "You were on the queen's council, you were friends with Darkstalker and Clearsight. Do you remember them?"

"I remember that they used to run this Kingdom, and that Sharp-eyes had to save us from their weak regime. I know that now, their powers have been repurposed, and their threat has been neutralized."

"No! You were like family to them. You knew all their dragonets, you were friends..." Gaze's voice grows clouded and trembling. I watch with bated breath.

She wipes away her tears. "Do you remember how we met? I was working a bad job at the palace–and I was working on my university application. And you asked me what I was doing, and I went on this whole stupid rant at you, because I was young and just furious at it all back then. And then–you hired me. You made my whole life open up. I made sure the cook and the cleaner and the gardener got paid, I helped you with your work, and you taught me how government worked. You helped me get the New Star off the ground–in some roundabout way, anyhow. You were like... family. You don't remember that?"

His mouth opens, his eyes go wide. That soft, weary, kindness sinks into the wrinkles of his face.

Gaze steps forward. "I know you're in there, Heartfire," she says, her voice thick.

He stiffens, the flicker of his old self fading as soon as it came. "I don't remember any of it, and I don't need to. Whoever I used to be, I'm not that dragon anymore."

But that one moment is all it took. Gaze will sooner see herself to an early grave than let go of the thin possibility of saving her old friend. She's like an animal, latched onto a bone.

And I can use that, too.

***

Next, I find Epiphany, alone in Queen Vigilance's throne room. It's so strange to think how far this kingdom has come in such a short span of time. It really wasn't long ago that Vigilance ruled over us. The stained glass windows; the velvet banners; the golden throne; its inlaid moonstones shimmering in the torchlight.

"Hello, Epiphany," I say pleasantly.

She flinches.

He knows my name. He could ruin everything I've built at the New Star in a second, if he wanted to.

She hates how easily she feels herself slipping into old patterns. In the face of danger, all she knows how to do is play dead.

"I apologize for my tardiness."

I step forward, and a table appears between us.

"Take a seat, Your Highness."

"I'm not royalty anymore. I don't want to take your crown, if that's what you're worried about–I sure don't want you to have it, but–" she hesitates. That's how she used to feel, but now she's not so sure. There's a sense of duty that weighs heavy on her shoulders.

If that's what I had to do to get this kingdom through a dark patch, I would do it in a heartbeat.

She immediately tries to conceal the thought after she thinks it, but it's too late–there's no fooling me.

That's not what I'm concerned about. You couldn't take this crown from me if you tried, Your Highness." I allow myself to gloat, just a little. It's true. "No. I just want to talk. Epiphany. I'm curious–what was it like growing up royal?"

"Terrifying."

"Mmm. You were close with your mother, weren't you?"

"She died so I could get away. I mean, yeah–we were as close as any mother and daughter are. She taught me how to survive."

Memories flash through her mind. I take careful note of each of them. Her mother teaching her to fly, her mother telling her to run. Her mother raising her like training a soldier for war. The fear of her grandmother pulses beneath each one of her memories; her fury a disaster waiting to strike.

"Do you miss her?"

Epiphany shifts uncomfortably. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me?"

"Perhaps your girlfriend has told you: the apocalypse that's coming for us is everything your worst nightmares could possibly imagine and then some."

"She's not my girlfriend," Epiphany mutters.

"But she wants to be, Princess. It's pathetic. But that's beside the point. Let me show you what she sees."

I wave my talon, and the stained glass windows shift, showing the disasters that have haunted me for months now.

The sandstorm, the battle, the fire–the earth cracking apart, light glowing out from the edges–an IceWing dragonet, screaming up at the sky as he comes apart at the seams–

"The thing about these visions, Epiphany, is that after all these disasters, it's blank. I can follow the timelines up to the moment the world falls apart, and then it's just.... nothing. The world stops, altogether, just implodes in on itself. Time and space come apart at the seams. It's like our planet disappears from history. This is the end of everything. And my magic cannot stop it."

Epiphany blinks.

"I don't want this continent to die, you have to understand that."

Tell me what you're hiding. Tell me your part in all of this. I want to shake her until all the secrets fall out of her brain.

She just sits there, staring back at me, dead silent.

"Princess, I know your true identity. I need you to know, that I could reveal it to the New Star at any moment I so wish to."

Epiphany's eyes go wide.

"They give Nebula a pass, because he's so clearly a victim; because he looks like his mother. But would they do the same for you? And even if they did, what would they want from you now they knew? Are you ready for that?"

I will be, soon, she thinks before she remembers I'm listening. I just want it to be on my own terms. If he leaks it to everyone, they'll take it all wrong, and who knows what'll happen–

"I thought your little girlfriend was the only way I could prevent this, but she doesn't even have any ideas. Can you believe that, Epiphany? I mean, I'm not surprised–her powers are useless, but–"

The princess's anxiety races through my mind, so sharp it almost feels like my own. He's gonna hurt Gaze. He's going to never let her leave if she can't solve this for him. That's just the kind of thing he would do. And I'm not gonna be able to stop it. I can't let him hurt her I can't–

She cuts me off. "Look, why do you even want to stop it? The apocalypse, I mean. Couldn't you survive it? All this magic, and yeah, maybe you can't insulate everyone. But I bet you could insulate yourself. Don't hurt Gaze, whatever you mean to do to her. Just let us all go, and—"

Her voice catches, horror dawning in her eyes.

I want to dismiss the idea outright.

But as I cast my mind into the future, I realize she's right.

I could at least insulate myself at least from the end of days. I could make it through and be okay. (More importantly, I could survive the aftermath where few others could.)

"But someone needs to remember me, Princess. Someone needs to teach it in classrooms, that I saved the world from impending doom. Someone needs to worship me forever."

You'll see me, like you're supposed to. You'll get over the smoke that's clouding your vision.

But as I say it, new timelines form around her words.

If I scaled it down, if I made sure that the inciting event happened far enough away from my city walls, I could save it. It would take everything I have to resist it; it might damn near kill me.

And what about the dragons I'd save? I could wipe their minds clean. Make history start the day of the End. A clean slate, finally.

Epiphany's eyes widen. She realizes what she's just done right as it's too late to take back.

"You're right," she stammers. "I mean, you have to–you have to try and save them. It wouldn't be the same, would it–to have everyone remember you just be–what, magical recreations? Brainwashed?"

But I could have everything.

Real dragons haven't worked out well for me. I offered them everything–eternal stability and peace, endless resources, a life unconstrained by the limits that previously held our society in check. I try to save them, and they call me a tyrant.

I think about what Epiphany said–magical recreations.

Could I really do that?

Of course I could, look at what I've been able to do with Hearfire. It's incredible, what my magic can accomplish–there's nothing to say I couldn't.

I can hardly see the timelines through the static noise surrounding the End.

But when I do, I start to make out flashes of the world that could be. My city, filled with smiling, happy faces, dragons whose days are devoted to writing about mine. A library, filled up with the history of everything I've done for our Empire, free for everyone to peruse, just how grandmother would have wanted it.

Darkstalker and Clearsight–a new, better version–rule at my side. Whiteout has tea with me every afternoon, and she's always happy to see me.

I can still be remembered.

"Sharp-eyes, please," Epiphany begs. I never thought of her as the type to grovel–she always seemed so tough, but I guess I was wrong. "Please, don't do what I think you're going to. Think about the history you'd be destroying. Think about the lives."

Oh, now she's desperate. How inconvenient. Perhaps I did push it too far.

"Well, I would let you live," I say, scoffing.

"Not with my mind."

If she tells Gaze about this, it'll make a whole mess for me. The odds of her doing it aren't great, but I don't want to deal with the inconvenience.

"You gave me this idea. You at least deserve some compensation for your help in building the Empire," I lie. "I'd let you keep your brain. Your girlfriend, if you must. Your lives could go unchanged–even better than before. Eternal paradise–no war, no death, no fighting."

"Swear you wouldn't do a thing to her," Epiphany hisses. "Swear it, or I take this public and drag myself down with it."

She's gotten far braver than I thought.

"On the life of my mother," I say boredly, holding out my talon and shaking it with hers.

I didn't know my mother, nor do I care for her.

And I'm not even halfway done with you. But it'll work better if she doesn't know it.

I might not have succeeded with Gaze, but I have two new dragons on the inside of the New Star I can manipulate. Their measly little rebellion is under my control. I've figured out how to stop the apocalypse.

I'm going to win.

***

I stare at the far wall in my quarters. I watch my soldiers struggle against Jerboa's infestation of magical soldiers.

Gaze's strategy really helped. I thought I needed to improve my enchantments, but perhaps all I needed was a change of strategy.

They're going to win. Maybe it'll take a while, maybe it'll draw more blood than I expected, but I still have power beyond what anyone can imagine.

I still matter.

How dare they try to resist me? How foolish could they possibly be to even try?

I watch them fighting over the rubble that remains of the city hall, my teeth gritted.

I imagine all of them burning, drowning, buried alive. I've got something they never, ever will: enough power to survive the nightmare that's coming their way.

I could take away their powers if I wanted to.

I could do anything I damn well please.

I feel myself start laughing. "None of this matters," I whisper. "You're all going to die. That's right—you didn't want my rule? Then I won't save you. If you want me to be the villain here, you can believe it all you want. You won't be alive to immortalize my legacy."

For the first time in weeks, I finally relax. Everything in my life slowly comes into view.

I can see the story they'll write about me in the scrolls someday. I can picture the statues they'll build in the square. It's all I've ever wanted.

I'm going to remake the world in my image.

If you don't want to be a part of it, then you can burn. Don't say I didn't do anything for you. 

I look over at the clock by the window.

Tick. Tick. Tick.