FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Freezer Burn

* * * * *

Beautiful reds, oranges and yellows blitzed past. The occasional green poked through the vast sea of autumn. Against the backdrop of the clear blue sky, the empty road somewhere in the state of Maine was mostly undisturbed save for the lone, black convertible that sped down the gently curving and surprisingly well-maintained road. Flurries of autumnal leaves billowed behind the silent vehicle.

At the driver’s seat, one arm gently resting on the door of the vehicle, a pair of silver wrap-around sunglasses around his eyes, was a powerfully built wolf with jet-black fur and bright, golden blond hair sticking out from between his large, triangular ears. Despite the chill in the air, he wore a casual blue collared shirt with the top two buttons undone revealing a crest of golden blond chest hair on his broad, powerful pectorals. A single golden key hung on a silver chain around his neck. A casual smile was on his broad, muzzle as he bobbed his head to the tune being blared on the radio.

“When you’ve fighting for it all your life,” he sang in a youthful tenor with a slight gruff edge, “You’ve been struggling to make things right. That’s how superhero learns to fly!”

He tapped his foot contained beneath blue and white sneakers absently on to the beat, lightly disturbing the black jeans that covered his broad legs. “Every day, every hour, turn the pain into power.”

He was so distracted by the song and the road ahead that he failed to notice the distant explosion behind him. The smile on his face grew broader as he approached one of Maine’s iconic wooden bridges. He purposefully slowed down so that he could take in the beauty of the behemoth with its red roof, wooden frame that defied gravity and the rushing water beneath. He even pulled down his glasses for a moment, revealing deep blue irises that were almost black in the right light so that he could get an unobstructed view of the historic site.

Pulling his arm from the door, he reached into his pocket to bring out his phone with the full intention to park and take a picture of the site before moving on.

Then fate came knocking.

BOOM!

Something crashed into the bridge from above forcing the wolf to let out a cry, grip the steering wheel with both paws and immediately hit the brakes. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air as the tires screeched to a halt and he quickly veered to the side. The convertible skidded to a halt, perpendicular to the road and he lifted an arm to block the hail of flaming wood and debris flying in his direction. None of the splinters actually reached him but the gesture was out of pure instinct.

The wolf took a second to stare at the destruction in front of him… then stared up at the sky.

“One day!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at the cosmos. “I’m not even here for one day and you already pull this shit on me!”

Movement could be seen in the ruins of the flaming bridge and he glanced back down to see someone emerging from beneath the debris. The figure was a bear. Large, muscular and wrapped in a contrasting icy-blue and flaming-red costume that was ripped and shredded from the impact. He was wounded, bleeding and one eye was shut. From the looks of it, his arm was broken as it hung limply by his side.

“I really should ignore this…” the wolf muttered to himself. “I really shouldn’t get involved…”

Maniacal laughter erupted from behind him. Before he could turn around, someone grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him from the convertible with enough force that it snapped the seatbelts from around his waist. He was held helplessly a couple of feet in the air and dragged by the mysterious assailant forward.

“So much for the great and powerful Frostfire,” chuckled a deep, rumbling baritone.

The bear snarled at him - or rather the man behind him. “Let him go, Dark Strider! He’s innocent in all this!”

Glancing over his shoulder, the wolf noticed that the man currently holding him up was a dark-clad bull. Like the bear, this bovine was powerfully built to herculean proportions. Every muscle was clearly defined and the all-black suit he wore that was trimmed with deep, blood red only helped accentuate every curve and muscle. A billowing cape hung behind the bovine who hovered in the air. Between his two, curved horns were a crackling disc of angry, red energies.

The bull, Dark Strider, grasped the wolf’s cheeks, forcing him to face the bull.

“No one is ever innocent in this world,” snarled the bull. The smell of lobster was on his breath. “Tell me, wolf. What is your name?”

“No!” the bear, Frostfire, cried reaching a hand forward. Icy particles formed at his fingertips but dropped to the ground uselessly a moment later.

A devilish grin crossed against the villain’s features. “I want this hero to know your name so that it will be forever etched in his brain. The name of the ‘innocent’ he failed to save!”

“You son of a…” bellowed Frostfire. Then to the wolf, he said, “I’ll save you. I swear it!”

The wolf reached up grasping the bull’s wrist. “My name is…” Then, with his other paw, he reached up and pulled his sunglasses down, staring the bull right in the eyes. The moment their eyes met, the villain knew something was wrong. “… Reaper.”

Crrrrack!

The bull’s eyes widened… and he took a whole second to stare at the hand that had once grasped the wolf’s cheeks now bent at an obscene angle in front of him.

“AAAAAAAARGH!”

Dark Strider immediately released Jacob Reaper and snaked back in the air to retreat from the dark-furred wolf. Reaper refused to perform a ‘superhero landing’ and tucked and rolled towards his car.

“You will pay for that!” bellowed Dark Strider. The bull held a hand over his head, crackling crimson energies manifesting between his fingers.

Jacob had his back turned to the supervillain as he regarded his convertible, absently running a finger down the side of the door. There was a scratch there from where the bull’s cloven hooves scratched it while retrieving him.

“No!” cried Frostfire. He surged forward a few steps, crimson flames bursting from his feet before his body gave out form underneath him and he tumbled to his knees. “Run!”

Dark Strider thrust the sizzling spear of malevolent energies at Jacob who merely waved a paw absently over his shoulder. The energy fizzled out a long before it even came close to him. The bovine villain stared in shock, muzzle hanging open as he hung in the air dumbstruck.

“What the…?”

Jacob turned towards Frostfire. “Hey hero,” began the wolf. “Remind me again. Standard policy is that any damage to rentals are reimbursed by superheroes, right?”

Frostfire stared at him for a few moment, icy-blue eyes filled with confusion. “I… suppose…”

“Great.”

Without warning, Jacob grabbed the door of his car and yanked it clean off his car with a wailing screech. He spun in place and hurled it at Dark Strider, striking the stunned and hovering supervillain in the air with enough force that the bull was sent crashing to the ground.

Frostfire stared in shock. “Are… are… Do you have superpowers…?”

Jacob sighed and slipped his sunglasses back on. Then, he pointed at himself and Frostfire rapidly. “Can we not do this? I’m on vacation and if you didn’t literally drop in front of me, I wouldn’t even get involved.”

A ferocious roar erupted from behind him. A geyser of malicious red and black energy burst from Dark Strider and the bull rose up into the air, seething with the malicious power.

“I don’t know who you are!” bellowed the bull. “But I will not be caught off guard again! I will -”

Jacob made a horizontal sweeping motion with his paw and, suddenly, Dark Strider’s lips fused together, silencing the man immediately.

“I really don’t want to get into this,” said the exasperated lupine. “I’m not going to solve all your problems and I’m certainly not going to sit around and listen to you monologue. So…” He turned towards the bull and made a shooing gesture. “… kindly go away. I’d like to return to my time off.”

A tear in the air appeared behind Dark Strider with a ripping noise. The bull barely had enough time to turn around when he was suddenly pushed through the portal by an invisible force.

The tear sealed itself a moment later.

“Thanks,” Jacob said resolutely.

Thwump.

He glanced back towards the superhero and noticed the bear was now laying face flat on the road. It took him an entire minute of just standing there, watching the bear, before he acted.

“He’s going to be fine,” Jacob told himself, turning back to his convertible which was now with one less door. “This is a world filled with superheroes. Someone will come along and pick him up.”

He was already in the seat of the convertible and starting the car again.

“Someone surely would have noticed their fight,” he kept telling himself. “Or some other superhero will be tracking him.” He glanced over to the unconscious and bleeding bear. “It’s not my problem. I’m here specifically to avoid getting involved.”

His paws were on the steering wheel, his foot on the gas…

… and his fangs were clenched.

“Fuck me…”

❖

* * * * *

The news was already quite vocal about the big confrontation between the supervillain Dark Strider and the superhero Frostfire. They were calling the battle inconclusive with many people surveying the site of the battle and investigators trying to look into what had happened to the two superpowered individuals. With Frostfire belonging to the Legion - the premier superhero organization in the United States - people were already wondering how someone so powerful could disappear so suddenly.

Jacob sat munching on a drumstick, feet propped up as the reporter on screen described the initial onset of the fight which had broken out in the small town of Barewillow Creek, Maine. Frostfire, who had been assigned to that town, suddenly encountered Dark Strider who had aimed to terrorize the citizenry for some unknowable reason. The two fought and, following Legion protocol, Frostfire took the fight away from the town to avoid collateral damage.

“Hell of a place to drop a superhero,” rumbled the wolf through a muzzle-full of fried chicken. “A town barely with a population of two thousand. What did you do to deserve such a terrible assignment?”

As if on cue, the large, brown-furred mass slumbering on the bed suddenly sat up, letting out a sudden gasp, eyes wide.

“There he is,” Jacob mumbled, catching the ursine’s attention. He held out the partially eaten drumstick towards the bear. “KFC? I don’t know why but for some reason KFC is way better the farther you are from the south.”

Frostfire blinked at him for a few moments then looked down at himself. His large paws roved his body, checking for injuries. Surprisingly, there was nothing to ever indicate that he was injured. Though he was currently bare chested, revealing his rippling muscles and the blue and yellow boxers he wore, there was not a scratch on him.

“I’m… Alive…?” he asked.

“Hi Alive,” Jacob said with a smirk. “You can call me Jacob. Jacob Reaper.”

The bear’s features immediately darkened and it looked like it took a lot of effort for him not to scowl. “You can call me Frostfire. And you are an unregistered powered individual.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and waved his paws absently in the air. “Ooooooh! A UPI! This world’s ‘it’ word.” He took a bite out of the drumstick and, through a muzzle full of food, said, “Honestly. Couldn’t you guys come up with a more creative name for people who decide not to register that they have supernatural abilities with your organizations and go through the grueling training of becoming a superhero that didn’t sound like a sexually transmitted disease?”

The drumstick was suddenly snatched from his paws. “It is an honor to serve the community as a superhero. Talk like that is an insult to all those that have died giving their lives protecting this world.”

Jacob reached into the red and white bucket that sat beside him. “Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, Sparkles.”

Frostfire jerked his head back in surprise. “Sparkles?”

Jacob gave him a sidelong glance while bringing another drumstick towards his muzzle. “Yeah. You snore.”

“And?” asked Frostfire hotly.

“And, didn’t anyone ever tell you that as you snore, you exhale this little snow flurry that makes it look like you’re breathing out glitter?”

Frostfire’s eyes widened and Jacob could see a blush appearing against his brown fur. “You… You watched me sleep!?”

“I watched you sleep, stripped you and healed your wounds,” Jacob answered, munching down on the wing. “And I stuck around just long enough to make sure you’re conscious. Didn’t want all my hard work to go to waste because Dark-Stick-Up-His-Ass wanted to hunt you down.”

“You didn’t finish him off?”

Jacob stopped eating for a moment and eyed the superhero warily. “Why would I?”

Frostfire sat up fully, swinging his thick legs over the edge. “Because he’s a danger to society!” He lifted a large, brown fist. Ice began generating from his knuckles and as it did so, the fur on his fingertips began to turn white. “Any supervillain is not to be given any chances especially if they are a threat to others’ lives. They must be eliminated without prejudice.” Then his ice-blue eyes narrowed. “That also applies to UPIs that refuse to submit to due processing.”

Sighing softly, Jacob lowered his drumstick without letting it touch the table he was perched upon. “There it is. Not even any mercy for the guy that saved you.” He waved a paw absently at the bear. “Fine.”

‘Bwcawk!’

Frostfire suddenly jerked back in horror as the fist that had been covered in ice one moment ago was suddenly transformed into a giant rooster’s head. The rooster, fully conscious looked panicked and began cawing madly. The grizzly let out a strangled cry and tried to grab the head and yank it off. Doing so only seemed to make him sick and he gagged.

“I really wouldn’t do that,” Jacob warned, his eyes half-closed. “I really couldn’t be bothered with the true logistics of how transforming your fist into a chicken head would work. I don’t think I’ve even attached it’s respiratory system correctly. Strangling it will probably make it feel like you’re choking yourself.”

Frostfire stared at his hand in horror. “What… What are you?”

“Someone that’s pretty damn hungry,” Jacob answered, munching on the drumstick. He flicked a finger in the bear’s direction and the spontaneous rooster part returned to normal without so much as an explosion of magical energies as fanfare. “But also someone with complete and unrestricted access to the very laws of time, space and reality.”

“Bullshit.”

Jacob snorted. “I wish. When my dads and granddad actually suggested this little holiday, I asked them why they were letting me have free reign and access to my full arsenal. You’d think getting me to find the joy in helping people and guiding them to find their happily ever afters would involve stripping me of all my powers and getting me to appreciate what it’s like to work my way up back from scratch.” He rolled his eyes and waved a paw absently through the air. “But apparently, I’ve sacrificed myself too many times, played the villain, played the supporting character, mentor and deus ex machina enough times that such a scenario would lose all meaning.”

He rested his cheek on a paw. “So now I’m here, with the literal keys to the universe and all existence, trying to rediscover my purpose in life…” Jacob threw a paw in Frostfire’s direction. “…and then you literally fall out of the sky in front of me not even a day into my holiday made for rest, relaxation and self-reflection.”

The superhero gave him a blank stare for a good long minute. In those sixty seconds, he stared back and chewed on his drumstick… slowly. Only when Jacob swallowed did Frostfire snap out of his trance and speak.

“I don’t know what your problem is but you need to come with me.” The grizzly got out of bed, looming over Jacob. “As a citizen of these United States, it is your obligation and duty to report your abilities to the Legion and undergo proper training to handle them for the safety and security of your fellow citizens.”

“Under what amendment?” Jacob snorted.

“The 35th.”

The black-furred wolf’s face fell. “Huh… They actually have amendment for that in this universe? Go figure.” He shrugged and continued eating. “Serves me right for going in here blind.” He waved a paw in Frostfire’s direction. “Besides, doesn’t apply to me. I’m not a citizen.”

There, the bear’s features darkened. “Are you telling me your an illegal immigrant?”

Reaper shrugged again and finished off his current drumstick. “Tourist is probably the best way to describe my current situation.” He held up a finger before the glowering superhero could say another heated word. “And, under current immigration law, I am allowed to visit these United States for 30 days as a tourist unrestricted so long as I have the appropriate tourist visas. Which I do have. Check your systems.” When the bear continued to glare at him, the wolf said, “I was planning to visit every state and enjoy my time there but I can’t very well drive everywhere. I’m going to have to hit up an airport at one point and that means they’ll check my credentials. Of course I needed to get my paperwork in place.”

The tension in Frostfire’s shoulders eased somewhat. “Alright. But you still have superpowers. That means you must be registered with some other agency, organization or league in your home country. I would’ve known if you were passing by. The Legion wouldn’t just let something as important as that slip by.”

There was a moment when the ursine’s eyes drifted to the left. A flicker of doubt.

Jacob decided not to draw attention to it. “There are so many things about how the world works that you can’t even begin to fathom. Let’s just leave it at that.” He swiped the bucket of chicken from where it sat, got up from where he was seated and turned to leave. “Anyway, glad you’re doing better. Room is paid for the night if you feel like crashing here to let the heat die down while the media speculates about your disappearance and clash with Dark-Edgelord-McMoody. Your suit was pretty banged up but I’m having it washed and repaired. Room service will bring it over. Don’t worry. To anyone else but you, it’ll appear as if it’s just a pile of ordinary clothes until you put it on.”

Frostfire lunged forward, grabbing his shoulder. “Wait! You’re not going anywhere!”

The wolf snapped his fingers, his eyes brightening. “Oh! You’re absolutely right.” He turned around, the movement causing him to swivel out of the bear’s grip. Reaching back towards the table, he grabbed a small, plastic bucket. “Can’t forget the gravy. Chicken can be dry otherwise.”

Then he was heading out of the hotel room door before Frostfire could even react.

A pensive look crossed his features as he strode down the brightly lit hallway of the hotel. It was a small enough establishment that it didn’t need any elevators so he could easily take the stairs down three flights to the ground floor. His ears flicked backward as the heavy footfalls of Frostfire heralded the bear’s emergence from the little stupor that had befallen him after the gravy stunt.

“Come back here!” barked the bear.

Jacob was already down to the second floor before the superhero was at the stairs. Without looking, he casually shouted back, “Oh no. Whatever will the public and media think about an esteemed superhero running around in nothing but his Blitz Blue underwear?”

Frostfire stopped just behind him and then looked down at the blue and yellow boxers he wore. “Oh shit…”

Jacob never stopped his descent. “Doesn’t even have to be a hero. At this point it’s just public indecency. Hope you grabbed the room key on your way out, by the way.”

Again, the grizzly’s eyes widened as he looked back the way he came. Of course the door was shut behind him now leaving him locked out. That moment of hesitation and doubt bought Jacob precious few seconds to arrive at the ground floor and was already halfway out the door into the crisp, cool, Maine air.

Then the warm paw of Frostfire seized his shoulder again.

“I said stop!” barked the hero.

Jacob glanced lazily over his shoulder, regarding the hero through half-lidded eyes. Just past the bear was the concierge behind a desk that was currently staring at the hero’s near-naked form. There were a few others around and, like the concierge, was staring at the interaction.

Before he could say anything, there was a sudden alarm that blared somewhere down the street. Both he and Frostfire turned in the direction of the noise. It looked like a corner store was being robbed. Five men wearing black ski masks and wielding guns were charging out of the store clutching a bag of goods.

“Convenient,” Jacob muttered, glancing back towards the hero. In a whisper, he said, “So what’ll it be, Sparkles? Stop the obvious crime that’s happening in your town no doubt caused by your supposed absence? Or waste your time trying to apprehend me?”

Frostfire growled, his eyes at the five retreating thieves. Then those very same icy-blue eyes widened. An explosion erupted from the direction he was looking and Jacob turned to follow his gaze. One of his eyebrows rose as he noticed that one of the thieves had his hands pressed together like he was praying. The corner store was now on fire.

“He’s got powers…” cursed Frostfire.

“Huh,” Jacob mused. “I heard that only two-percent of the global population has superpowers. But two percent of eight billion is still a hundred and sixty million. Would make sense that a few people in every major population center would have abilities.”

“And that is why they all need to be registered!” sneered Frostfire. “Because if we don’t keep track of them, then they could go wild and do whatever they want! They could hurt people! It’s for their own good and the good of the country!”

“I could make a commentary on global gun control right now but I don’t feel like being controversial.” Jacob turned away, once again swiveling out of Frostfire’s grip, waving a chicken drumstick over his shoulder. “Whelp, you have fun arresting those superpowered individuals that are clearly doing harm. I’m going to finish my lunch and then make myself scarce. I’ve always wanted to visit Hawaii. Or maybe Mars. Maybe mess with those guys in NASA by waving at their latest rover or stand ominously out of focus in the periphery of their cameras.”

Without warning, Frostfire’s large paws suddenly grabbed both his shoulders and pulled him into the alleyway beside the hotel. He was slammed against the red brick walls and pinned there.

“I know I’m eating chicken right now but I’m in no mood for cock,” Jacob said, staring at Frostfire with an exasperated stare. Just to prove his point, he took bite out of the drumstick he was holding.

“Just… stay here,” Frostfire sneered. “Please.”

There was an almost… pleading edge to his words that made Jacob pause. “Okay. And how are you planning to stop those guys in your underwear?” He tilted his head to the side. “Do the superheroes in this world need to protect their identities or are you okay with going around mostly nude? Come to think of it, I didn’t see a mask in your uniform…”

Frostfire’s face looked crestfallen as he looked down at his naked, chiseled body.

A scream erupted from the street. Both of them peeked out of the corner to spy the gang of five men accosting a woman and her child.

“Really?” Jacob sighed. “Are they seriously stealing candy from a baby?”

His fur and skin prickled. The temperature in the air wavered from searing hot to chilling cold. Beside him, Frostfire’s right paw was generating a layer of ice from his knuckles, turning the brown fur white. In his left, crimson flames wreathed his fist, the fur turning black.

“Damnit…” cursed the bear. “I can’t go out like… like this…!”

Rolling his eyes, Jacob sighed. “Fine. Here… Hold these.” He flipped the bucket of chicken over and deposited the remaining meal right into a stunned Frostfire’s paws. Then, he punched three holes into the bucket.

“What are you doing?” demanded the bear, looking at the greasy pieces of fried chicken in his paws. The ice and flames had dissipated.

Jacob shoved the bucket over his head, shoving his muzzle through the largest of the holes. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of fried chicken permeated his nostrils. Leaning down, he grabbed a nearby discarded trash bag that was mercifully empty and wrapped it around his neck like a cape. There was a wooden pole with a little metal hook at the top that looked like it was used to grab things from a distance which he seized.

“I…” he said, striding towards the entrance of the alleyway. “I am going to have some fun on my vacation.”

Before Frostfire could stop him, Jacob was storming out into the middle of the street. There were some bystanders that were taking videos and a few others who were predictably trying to take selfies or upload content online. One of them caught sight of him and immediately brought attention to the bizarre wolf striding out to confront the criminals. If he had any sort of shame, he would have been embarrassed but his focus was on the woman who desperately trying to protect her child from the five goons. All five looked powerfully built and one of them had the lollipop that had been pilfered from the child.

“I seriousl_y can’t believe you just stole candy from an infant _and then began to eat it,” he announced loudly, catching the attention of the malefactors. “Seriously, dude. Gross. And that comes from the guy wearing a trash bag around his neck.”

The five men - all canines of some mixed breed - exchanged glances and then grinned at one another. They were likely siblings from all appearances. The biggest of them, the one that had somehow caused an explosion, did not appear to be the leader. Ironically, it seemed to be the shortest of them.

“Well, what do we have here?” mocked the short one. “Some would-be-hero? What powers you got, hero?”

That was an excellent question. Judging by the number of people who were now crowded around and streaming his appearance, he knew he had to be somewhat discrete. From what little he had gathered from Frostfire, unleashing his full powers was likely to cause political upheaval and a power struggle. Things that were counterintuitive to a vacation.

So, he decided…

“When in Maine…” he whispered to himself.

Flinging his makeshift staff forward and pointing it at the villains, he announced in his most grandiose and exaggerated voice, “I am the legendary, laudible and…” He slammed the butt of his staff on the ground right between his legs and proceeded to gyrate against it. “… the lavishly good looking…” With a big sweep of the staff, he announced, “Lobstermancer!”

Somewhere, he could hear Frostfire’s jaw hit the floor like an anvil amongst the crickets chirping.

“The… The what…?” the short canine asked.

“Think fast!” Jacob shouted and flung his paw forward. A bright red lobster sprang from his palm, flew across the distance between them and slammed into the leader’s face with a loud, wet, crunch. The man went down with a startled cry as the lobster snipped his floppy ears with its claws.

“Boss!” cried one of the others.

Jacob swept his staff dramatically around him, spinning around in almost a pirouette. From the very asphalt beneath him, hundreds if not thousands of bright red lobsters sprang into existence. They swept around him like a crimson, crustacean tornado to the gasps of those watching. He stood atop the crawling wave of lobsters before he ordered it forward, sending the wave forward at the five criminals.

All five men stared in horror… until the short one said, “Boom-Boom!”

The tallest and biggest, the one with superpowers, suddenly slammed his palms together. “Boom!”

BOOM!

A fiery explosion erupted from somewhere in the middle of the mass of lobsters. The shockwave sent, Jacob hurtling forward and the mass of cooked crustaceans in all directions.

Jacob, however, was unfazed. As he came close to the ground, he slammed his staff into the ground, creating a pivot for himself so he could control his trajectory. He spun around the staff and guided himself straight into Boom-Boom, feet first. His feet slammed into the tall canine, sending them both to the ground. Mid-flight, he swept paws through the air in an upward sweep. Lobsters came streaming out of the ground, consuming Boom-Boom in a cocoon of crimson shells.

“No!” cried one of the canine brothers.

“Run for it!” shouted another.

A bunch of lobsters streamed out of the ground and formed a little platform for Jacob to stand on as he descended. He held out his paw towards the retreating would-be-villains. More lobsters just sprang up from the ground around them, crawling over their bodies and pulling them to the ground, incapacitating them.

The encounter was over.

Though the crowd was still watching, likely waiting for some cheesy announcement to declare his victory.

Lifting a finger as he stepped back onto the asphalt, he said, “Before I deliver a witty line announcing my victory, allow me to give you a little bit of lobster trivia.” He turned back towards Boom-Boom who was barely struggling to emerge from the sea of constantly crawling lobsters. “Lobsters can theoretically grow infinitely so long as they have enough food.”

“So what!?” barked the leader who was pinned not too far from him.

“So…” Jacob glowered, staring down at the dog. He pressed a foot down on the man’s chest, pinning him down further.

A shadow suddenly loomed over them all. Right over Jacob’s shoulder, an enormous apparition of a titanic lobster bigger than even the size of the hotel appeared. It’s body manifested only partially, emerging from the ground just to fit into the street without destroying any property. The crustacean cast Jacob in a complete shadow, allowing the criminal to see Jacob’s dark blue eyes.

“… Praise to the Lobster God,” Jacob snarled.

The man’s eyes went wide like saucers… then he held up his paws. “I surrender!”

Jacob’s mood brightened and he leaned back, removing his foot from the man. “Good.” The leviathan of a lobster shrank back into the ground, disappearing from view. “And one last thing… I want you to consider that most lobsters aren’t this bright red color naturally.”

“So…?”

“So,” Jacob grinned at the man. “These lobsters are cooked… and they’re still moving.”

The man blinked a few times. “Oh…” Then his eyes widened in terror. “Oh!”

The criminal sufficiently scared, Jacob turned towards the crowd, sweeping his arms wide. “Lobsters for everyone!”

Fully cooked and animate lobsters suddenly sprang from the ground and placed themselves in front of everyone in attendance. Though they stopped moving mere seconds after reaching their targets, everyone’s eyes - and phones - were directed away from him for the briefest of moments. Long enough for him to quickly bolt away and disappear back into the alleyway where a stunned Frostfire stood.

Jacob pulled the KFC bucket off his head, stared at it and then at the now-cold fried chicken in Frostfire’s paws before he shook his head. He tossed the bucket into a nearby garbage bin and removed the bag around his neck.

“You… You can summon and control lobsters?” stammered Frostfire. “That’s your superpower?”

He stared at the superhero in exasperation. “If that was the the limits of my powers, I think I’d actually be happier.” He strode past the grizzly bear. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to continue my vacation. You can keep the chicken.”

“What? Why?”

“Because my fur currently smells like eleven secret herbs and spices and now I have a craving for lobster thermidor.” He stopped for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. “You can come if you want. My treat.”

❖

* * * * *

“Mrph! Oooh! This is excellent!”

Reaper happily munched down on the lobster thermidor presented to him, beaming brightly and bouncing a little in his seat.

“Is it really?” Frostfire asked, eyebrows raised. The bear was now dressed in some casual clothing - a simple blue shirt with red pants. For the sake of avoiding detection, the stranger had changed his clothing as well - now dressed in a black tank top, a dark blue sports jacket and a pair of tan cargo shorts.

“How have you not lived in this town for however long you have and not tried this?” the blond-haired wolf asked, absently waving his fork around.

“It’s just lobster.”

“Trust me, Sparkles, after you’ve tasted the very concept of cosmic anxiety over and over again, something as simple as lobster is refreshingly delicious.” Jacob shoved more of the meal into his muzzle. “Why aren’t you eating? You allergic?”

Frostfire grumbled and dropped his gaze to the untouched plate of lobster lathered in butter in front of him. Around them were clueless civilians talking loudly about the ‘Lobstermancer’ that had appeared in this very town. The sudden influx of lobsters were also a welcome gift. Barewillow Creek wasn’t positioned anywhere near the coast of Maine so lobsters were a little more pricey than one of the coastal towns. Cheaper than anywhere else in the country but still something the locals complained about. With the Lobstermancer’s appearance and subsequent spectacular exit, the town was abuzz with the possibilities of a new hero in their midst and various recipes involving pre-cooked lobsters.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the… Lobstermancer,” he admitted. Just saying the pseudonym made his tongue feel like it was twisting into knots. Every fiber of his being was compelled not to utter that ridiculous name.

“What’s to understand?” replied the mysterious wolf whom he still had to get a name from. “He’s a guy that can summon and manifest lobsters. Simple.”

“I refuse to call him ‘Lobstermancer’,” Frostfire growled. “Superheroes undergo rigorous training in the academy. They spend years workshopping their superhero names as they develop their abilities. None of them would be caught dead being called ‘Lobstermancer’.”

The wolf eyed him curiously, a strange sparkle in his deep, blue eyes. “Fine. If you’re so uncomfortable with the name, why not just use his real name?” He tilted his head slightly. “You do remember my name, don’t you?” He tapped his chin with a butter-coated fork thoughtfully while he held out his other paw. “Jacob. Jacob Reaper.”

Frostfire bucked and stared at the outstretched paw.

“What?” Jacob asked, looking at his own paw. “Is it greasy? Did I get butter all over it?”

“No just…” The burly grizzly frowned. “Is that… is that your birth name?”

It was Reaper’s turn to give him a puzzled look. “Yes…?”

“You… You really never went to any of the academies, did you?”

Reaper lowered his paw, looking worriedly at Frostfire. “No. Though now I’m painfully curious why knowing my birth name would cause you to come to that conclusion.” Then, he straightened, shut his eyes briefly and shook his head. “No. Nope! Not using my eyes on that. Don’t care. I’ve switched off. I’m on holiday! If I look, I’ll be tempted to interfere so I’m not going to put that on my conscience.”

He opened his eyes again and began on the meal again.

Frostfire frowned a little. “You know, it’s typical for the clinically depressed to bury their feelings in food.”

Reaper gave him a bitter look. “Are you calling me fat?”

The bear appraised the wolf. There would be no world that the lupine could be called anything apart from the epitome of a ‘hero’. Lean, ripped and well-built, he leaned more on the side of having the body of an amateur bodybuilder as opposed to the much larger, much heroic stature of Frostfire. Amongst the Legion, he would be considered to have a Type A body - the kind of body more built towards having a balance of agility and strength. Whereas Frostfire would be a Type S - focus on strength and brawn. Type Bs where those with a higher focus on their brains while Type Os were those with odd body compositions.

“I’m calling you depressed,” Frostfire countered. “Half the time I’ve known you, you’ve been eating something.”

Reaper glanced at the plate in front of him, chewing his mouthful very slowly. He did not say anything, however. For the first time since they met, Frostfire felt like he had the upper hand. Years of training in such situations came rushing back to the surface and he dug deep into those wells of knowledge to gain as much information as he could from a clearly superior foe.

“Every power has some sort of physical toll,” he ventured. “Are you hungry because you need to replenish your energy after saving me and the town?”

Reaper looked up from his meal as he pushed it away. “I honestly wish that were the case. Maybe then I would have something to blame for the feeling of justified betrayal that’s gnawing at the back of my mind.”

“Justified betrayal?”

The wolf shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s a weird paradoxical feeling. Imagine a tyrant being stabbed in the back by his most trusted advisers and as he’s lying on the floor dying, he comes to the realization that he really was such an ass that he deserved to be killed. That’s kind of how I feel right. I might as well have been exiled.”

These ramblings were getting him nowhere. As much as he tried to piece together Reaper’s story, he was unable to make sense of the few fragments he had obtained. How did anyone this powerful ever manage to avoid any agency or organizations’ radar? Even if his power was simply to summon lobsters, someone should have known about him. Compared to the brief moment when he had saved Frostfire from Dark Strider, ‘lobstermancy’ clearly wasn’t his only power. Everything he did and his attitude defied all logic.

“I can see your gears turning,” Reaper accused. “So let me put you out of your misery.”

He lifted a paw and snapped his fingers. The entire nautical-themed restaurant suddenly went silent. Everyone froze in place. A waiter who was pouring water into a customer’s glass stopped with a smile plastered on her face while the stream of water almost looked like a crystal spire pouring from the jug. A little particle of food flying from a boisterous man’s muzzle hovering in midair mere inches from where it would have landed into his date’s eye. Two kids watching the Lobstermancer’s antics on their phone were caught in midair as they jumped on the bouncy cushion of the booth they stood in while an angry and exasperated parent tried to get them to calm down.

“My name is Jacob Reaper,” said the wolf. “My official title is R3 the Writer of Reality. I was once a courier but through a series of adventures and, frankly, traumatizing events, I managed to rescue my world and all of existence. I fought my Big Bad Evil Guy and when I thought my story was about to be concluded, the BBEG decided to fuse herself with the core of the very multiverse. I was forced to destroy her or she would corrupt everything back into the Primordial Chaos from whence everything spawned from. This left a huge hole in the multiverse that was rapidly expanding and consuming everything like a voracious black hole.”

Frostfire opened his muzzle to interrupt but Jacob held up a paw, silencing him.

“Let me finish.” When Frostfire snapped his jaw shut, Reaper continued. “My husband and the love of my life sacrificed himself to plug that hole, using his very essence and soul to hold the multiverse together. I swore to break him free. To do that, I proceeded to undertake a quest that would enable me to decouple and decentralize every reality out there from the core. It took countless lifetimes but as I was effectively banished from the grasps of space and time because I chased down my BBEG into the infinite void where nothing and everything exists as well as the powers I had obtained through my adventures, I found myself with the power to manipulate reality itself. I gathered a group of like-minded individuals and together, we liberated every universe from the Ultimate Seal.

“My husband was freed and then we proceeded to take what I like to think of as a long overdue but extended honeymoon. We went from reality to reality, helping people find their own satisfying endings to their stories. I’ve played many roles from hero, adviser, villain and mentor. It was what I did to free other realities and now, instead of it being something I had to do to spend one second with my better half, it was hobby.”

Then his features soured. “But then my colleagues and even my own husband noticed that I was losing the joy in my hobby. It became more an obligation. A self-imposed duty. I was compelled to do what I had been doing for countless eternities because I didn’t know how to do anything else. Their words. Not mine.”

There was a little more bitterness in those last few words than the rest of his narrative though Frostfire could tell that anger was directed more inwards than anyone else.

Reaper then lounged back against his chair. “So they teamed up with this particularly smarmy asshole that I know, a master of his own multiverse who uses his powers and resources to create multiversal products that he sells to other multiversal entities for profit. By their logic, all of them saw the positives and negatives of me but where one party saw it through a loving, positive lens, the Director saw it through a contemptuous, negative lens bordering on envious rivalry. Between them, they created this whole reality as a way for me to rest, relax and rediscover myself.”

He made a sweeping gesture around himself before placing his paw against his chest “Your entire universe is basically one, giant detox clinic for me.”

Again, Frostfire was about to say something but Reaper shut him down with a swiping gesture.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. This sounds like the rantings of a total narcissist. A delusional psychopath who believes the world revolves around him with a dangerous penchant for diminishing the importance of life around him.” Reaper closed his eyes briefly. “Believe what you want. This is my reality.”

He laughed a little to himself, eyes still closed. “The irony is… I could leave any time I want. The guys that sent me here never put any restrictions on my abilities. They haven’t shackled in me in any way. The only thing keeping me here is…”

Only then did he open his eyes but he was once again gazing at his half-finished plate. There was a heaviness in his voice and sadness in his eyes.

“… that they were right.”

Frostfire frowned. That was not what he was expecting from a deluded madman who believed the universe revolved around him. There was genuine introspection in his words and his expression. A sadness that was authentic. He found himself looking at a man that could do everything… but had nothing.

“So… your powers are…?”

Reaper’s ears perked up and then as he looked, they flatted in annoyance. “That’s what you got out of this?” He sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand. “I guess the best way you could put it in terms you can understand… reality manipulation. I can change the very laws of the universe itself. Past, present and future. I am unrestricted by both time and space.” He held up three fingers. “Yes, I could rewrite the entire universe and remove all the ‘evils’ if I wanted but I won’t. Yes, I could resurrect the dead but again, I won’t. No, that doesn’t make me god. There are no gods. Just mortals.”

He lowered his arms, folding them and giving Frostfire a smirk. “If you want my reasoning on those terms, you’ll have to buy me a drink first.”

Frostfire growled. “So back there when the Brandy Boys were robbing that corner store and attacking that woman and her child. You could have stopped that before it happened? Why didn’t you?”

Now Reaper held up two fingers. “The altruistic reason is that the very essence of free will is the capacity to make choices. By removing the ‘Brandy Boys’ as you called them of the choice of doing crimes, I am robbing them of their free will. Yes, that free will is turned towards crime and harming others but I would rather put a stop to something already happening than remove that choice entirely from the players. I am no puppet master. If that were the case, if I were so inclined, I would just turn everyone into a clone of myself or wipe the entire universe blank because there would be no point or individuality left.”

For a moment, he glanced away. “Huh…”

“What?” Frostfire asked.

Reaper shook is head. “Nothing.” Then he wiggled his two fingers again. “The second reason is that I’m on holiday. The exact reason I’m here and the reason I’m staying is that I need to resist the urge to intervene and insert myself into someone else’s stories. Don’t get me wrong. I want to help. There is nothing more that I want to do than to unpackage…” He waved in Frostfire’s direction. “… all this and find a way to make you happy. But how am I supposed to guide people to an everlasting happiness when I am not happy?”

The grizzly bristled. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jacob snorted. “Please.” Then his smile vanished slightly as Frostfire glared at him. “You really don’t see the borderline antisocial behavior? The desperate need to seek validation from external sources? The fact that someone clearly as talented and powerful as you has been relegated to a distant town with an admittedly gorgeous facade and fantastic temperature for long-furred species? None of that?”

Frostfire couldn’t keep his gaze and turned away.

“Yeah. Thought so.” Reaper sighed and snapped his fingers again. Time resumed and so did the sounds that came with it. “Look. We’ve honestly interacted more than we should have. I’m not stupid enough to know that I can’t go through this journey of self-discovery and rekindling of passion alone but, at the same time, I am fully aware that it is through getting involved in yet another superhero story…” He glanced upwards. “Thanks, dad…” His eyes drifted back to Frostfire. “… that I’ll probably get roped into some sort of cosmic battle that’ll determine the fate of the world or something. I don’t want that. It’s that kind of thing that frankly lead me to this burnout. So…”

He pushed his chair back and stood. “Thanks for your time. Thanks for hearing me out.” He gave Frostfire a genuine but still sadness-tinged smile. “Honestly, it felt nice to rant about a bit. I needed that off my chest.” Then Reaper turned to leave. “Sorry I can’t help you with everything going on in your life and, if you’re still struggling after I’ve found my ‘spark’ again, I promise you’re first on my priority list.”

Frostfire knew he couldn’t just let an anomaly like Jacob Reaper walk out of here. A dozen scenarios were buzzing around his mind on how to restrain what the world would call a dangerous ‘vigilante’. None of the abilities that would use his powers seemed plausible. He could not overpower Reaper. Not with what he had seen so far.

No.

He needed to get Reaper to stay another way.

“What if you have no choice?”

That made the wolf stop, standing just beside Frostfire on his way to the door. “Everyone always has a choice.”

“Not for victims of Ma Brandy,” answered the bear, mind racing. He looked to Reaper. “The Brandy Boys. They’re not actual supervillains, you know. Not real criminals. They’re victims.”

That got Jacob’s ears to perk. “Go on…”

“Ma Brandy is the actual villain here,” he explained, trying to force his heart to calm. “Her power is to ‘curse’ any alcoholic beverage she comes into contact with. Anyone who drinks the cursed booze will become one of her ‘boys’. They’ll transform into those mutts you saw. They’re loyal to her. Love her. Will do anything for her. If you accidentally drink any of her booze, you’ll be brainwashed by her.”

Reaper was silent for a moment, his eyes drifting towards the exit.

“You know…” mused the wolf. “… some part of me was actually tempted to find this ‘Ma Brandy’, shake her hand and then imbibe a barrel of her booze.” He snorted bitterly, running a paw down his face. “Shows just how fried I am that I’d consider complete and utter loss of identity if it’ll just switch off my own tendency to over-think.” He then turned his gaze towards Frostfire. “That guy that could cause explosions. That’s not a trait that Ma Brandy would grant, is it? It’s an inherent power of the individual corrupted?”

Frostfire nodded slowly. “Yeah. All Ma Brandy can do is transform and make people into one of her ‘boys’. But the abilities, powers and builds they have are inherent to them.”

Reaper’s gaze dropped, a tired expression on his face. “Getting shitfaced drunk while swimming in lobster-infused warm butter is out of the question then.” He sighed heavily and then held his paw out towards Frostfire. “Look, I’ll help you nab this Ma Brandy. Maybe it’ll get you in the good graces of whatever organization you’re trying to impress so you can get out of this assignment. Sound good?”

The bear’s heart was starting to calm and he stood up. He took Reaper’s paw and gave it one, firm shake. “Deal.”

Reaper offered a little smile. “Clever use of my own values against my, by the way.”

Frostfire jerked back in surprise, inadvertently releasing the wolf’s paw. “Huh?”

“If there’s one thing I hate above all else, it’s the loss of one’s ability to choose. I was careless when I was way younger and was in a hurry to railroad people to the end of their stories. A lesson I will never forget.” Reaper turned towards the door, shoving one paw into his pocket while waving over a waiter. “I will always stand for everyone’s right to make their own choices. That is something I refuse to compromise on. Everyone is always free to refuse my advice but when someone takes away another’s ability to choose, that’s when I will step in.”

A waiter headed over and asked if everything was okay. Reaper switched on a bright, smile like someone had turned on the lights. He gave the waiter glowing praises and just asked for a to-go box as well as for the bill. It arrived a short while later but he paused when he regarded the little receipt.

“Huh…”

Frostfire reached for his own wallet. “Do you need me to cover it?”

“No.” Reaper waved him down. “Just… You guys don’t do tips here?”

He blinked back at the wolf. “Tips? Like… advice? Do you normally give life lessons when paying for your meals?”

The wolf let out a snort as he signed the receipt. “Wow. An America without tipping culture. Well played, guys. Well played.”

❖

* * * * *

Frostfire stopped his large two-seater truck in front of the single-story suburban home about fifteen minutes from the center of Barewillow Creek’s only city center. Literally a twenty-two minute drive from the town hall. He had timed the trip. There had been nothing else to do, after all. It was a quaint little home. Lush, green lawn. Large evergreen tree that he had never bothered to learn the species of on the front. Sandwiched between two other homes in a sea of similar houses. He had never bothered to personalize or even decorate the front of his home. This assignment, he had assumed, would just be for a few months. A year at most.

That was two years ago.

“We’re here,” he announced, putting his truck into park.

“You don’t park in your own garage?” Reaper asked him. “Not even in your own driveway?”

“Waste of time,” he rumbled. “If I need to rush somewhere, waiting for the garage door to open or pulling out of the driveway wastes precious seconds.”

“Got it down to a science. Impressive.”

The grizzly stepped out of the truck. “It’s how we’ve been trained.” With that, he slammed the door and headed up his driveway.

Of course, at this time of day, he was not alone. Mrs. Lorris, an elderly calico was out with her bright yellow sunhat in a lime green dress trimming her hedges. She peered up at him through thick, rounded spectacles.

“Oooooh! Hello dearie,” she exclaimed, waving at him. “You’re home early today. I’m so glad to hear that you’re safe! I heard you had disappeared after your fight with that evil bull.”

The sound of the other door shutting caught the feline’s attention and she had to adjust her glasses so that she could catch sight of Jacob.

“Oh! And who is this? Your new sidekick? Did the Legion finally send you one?”

Frostfire forced a faint smile. “No, Mrs. Lorris. He -”

Jacob padded over to the old woman and tipped an invisible hat to her. Then, in the thickest southern accent, he said, “Howdy, ma’am. Name’s Haywind Colt. Friends call me ‘Holt’. Pleased ta meetcha.” He gently took her paw and bent down; really bent down as she was only 5’2’’ at her advanced age and he was over six-feet tall. He proceeded to turn on the southern charm by kissing the back of her paw. She naturally blushed.

“I wus jus’ makin’ my way through town sightseein’. Wus thinkin’ o’ hitting up that bridge crossin’ the widest part o’ the creek when I wus told it’s closed cuz’ of the fight yer boy had.”

“Oh dear,” she sighed, grasping her cheek. “I heard about that.”

“Yeah. It wus jus’ dumb luck, is all. Wasn’t really plannin’ on stayin’ fer very long an’ it’s already gettin’ late.” Reaper then beamed brightly. “Thankfully, your local hero heard ‘bout my little predicament an’ decided ta put me up in his place!”

Frostfire bristled but the moment Mrs. Lorris turned to him, he forced a bigger grin while storming over to Jacob.

“That’s our hero!” exclaimed Mrs. Lorris. “Such a sweet boy. We don’t deserve him.”

Frostfire grasped Jacob’s shoulders and began to pull him towards his home. “Thanks, Mrs. Lorris. You’re too kind.” Then, growling at the wolf, he said, “Come on, Haywind. Let’s go inside. You’ve had a day.”

Jacob brushed his paws off. “Alright, alright. Imma comin’.” He then waved towards the calico. “Don’t be a stranger, ya hear?”

Frostfire practically shoved him through the door into his home and slammed the door behind him.

“What the hell was that?” snapped the bear. “And what’s with the accent?”

Jacob gave him a smirk. “People heard me speak as the Lobstermancer. If I spoke to her in this small town with the same inflection in a world made smaller by the Internet, someone would start connecting the dots.”

“And ‘Haywind Colt’? Holt?”

Reaper grinned at him. “I think it felt appropriately southern.”

Frostfire grimaced. He did not want to admit that it did feel appropriately southern. He barged past Reaper into his home. “Whatever. Follow me. I’ll get everything we have on Ma Brandy.”

“Alright. Can I just say something about the feng shui, though?”

“Not like I can stop you.”

Reaper gestured around him. “I was honestly expecting something… more?”

Frostfire stopped and glared at the wolf.

Surrounding him was a very Spartan and mundane home. No pictures hung on the walls. No decorations of any kind. The furniture was bland and functional. Nothing extravagant. The walls were a dull, grayish blue. The carpet was the same, awful beige that came with every standard home. The windows were covered in blinds without any signs of curtains. Even the nearby kitchen looked like it was barren and ready for someone else to move in. He didn’t even have a refrigerator. Didn’t need one most of the time since he would usually just eat nutrient bars while on patrol.

“I’m living practically,” he answered defensively.

Reaper held up his paws. “Not here to criticize or judge. But I’m honestly new to the world and I went in here blind. I was honestly expecting a bookshelf or something that would roll aside to reveal a secret underground cave or even a study with all your superhero stuff.”

Frostfire rolled his eyes and beckoned him to follow. “Maybe in the 1900’s that was the trend but modern heroes don’t have to worry about comfort. It’s just a distraction.”

“And the lack of any family photos or even any sort of reminder of fonder times…?”

“A distraction,” Frostfire reiterated, storming into his study. Like the rest of the house, it was barren. The only thing occupying it was a simple, metal desk and folding chair the likes of which one would find at a Walmart. “When you enter the system as a superpowered individual and try to become a hero, you cut all ties to who you were. Family, friends and anyone else are just distractions. You don’t get to play out the fantasy of having a secret identity and learning life lessons during your big battle with that week’s villain that somehow ties to the problems you’re having in your ‘normal life’. You don’t get a normal life. Villains can’t hold your family hostage when you don’t have a family. Bad guys can’t threaten your friends if you have none. You’re there for your duty. Nothing else.”

Reaper was silent. Frostfire ignored him as he took up the sole seat and opened the laptop sitting on his desk. Only after he logged on did he finally look up at Reaper. The wolf was just seating himself on a large, cushioned, high-backed armchair with a velvety texture. An armchair that hadn’t been there just a few seconds ago.

“What?” asked Jacob. “My ass is a boujee bitch.”

“Whatever,” grumbled Frostfire, turned back to his laptop. He snarled as he was given a little spinning wheel of dots as the device continued processing. “Goddamn slow-ass internet. I swear, if there was ever an actual emergency, I’d never know about it until the villain had already escaped because the network here is so goddamned slow!”

From the periphery of his vision, he noticed Reaper twitch an ear slightly.

Suddenly, his laptop had connected and his desktop had appeared.

Glowering at the wolf, he said, “What did you do?”

An infuriating shrug. “Created dedicated but temporary quantum entangled connection between your device and the closest high-speed network hub. Naturally encrypted with a special cipher that is triple-encoded from a universe that exists on base 1.3.”

Frostfire blinked. “What?”

“In this world, one is equal to one, I assume. It would be the same in the other world. But if you were to compare the value of one from the two worlds, you’ll find that their one is equivalent to 1.3 here. Everything there, comparatively to this world, is shifted by 0.3 in a positive scale.” Reaper snickered. “No cryptographer would ever be able to decrypt the connection unless they knew that and even then, it’ll make every formula and calculation spin on its head and explode.”

The grizzly shook his head and glanced back at his screen. He began tapping a few commands to get him into the Legion’s network. “Fine. Let me just -”

A music chime sprang from his laptop and his heart dropped. A little pop-up appeared on the bottom right-hand of his screen indicating that someone was calling him.

“Shit!”

Reaper lifted an eyebrow and draped one leg over the other. Then he rested his elbow on one arm, lifted his arm and rested his cheek on his knuckles. A very ‘bored supervillain’ pose. “Trouble?”

“It’s the Legion! I have to answer!”

“So answer.”

“I will,” he growled back. “But you stay out of this and stay silent.”

Reaper made a gesture of zipping his lips and tossing away the key. Frostfire took a deep breath, held it for two seconds and then hit the big, blue ‘receive’ button on the pop-up. A window immediately consumed his screen. A logo of a crow with four wings spread out appeared in front of him.

“I am glad to hear that the rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated, Frostfire,” came a cool, calm, silky tone. “Care you explain what happened with Dark Strider?”

Something he had yet to concoct a convincing story about. Not that he actually had an explanation.

“He disappeared,” admitted the grizzly. “He hit me really hard and I blacked out before I could do anything. When I came to, he was gone. Best I can tell, he’s no longer in Barewillow Creek.”

“I see. This will go on your record as a failure. Failure to capture, disable and detain a registered or known supervillain to the authorities is a Class 1 failure.”

Wouldn’t be the first time he had such a mark against his record. Not that he had much father to fall anyway.

“Let’s talk about this ‘Lobstermancer’ that’s making the news. Have you made contact?”

“I’ve still been in recovery. I haven’t had a chance to track him down.”

“Another failure then. It is a hero’s duty to make contact with other superpowered individuals and apprehend them for training and assessment. Failure to do so is considered as a Class 3 failure. However, considering your circumstances and rapid occurrences of these events, I will omit these from your record if you can resolve the issue within the next twenty-four hours.”

Frostfire was glad his camera was not on so that his pained expression couldn’t be seen. “Yes, sir. I understand. I am already working the case. I believe that the Lobstermancer had actually engaged members of the Brandy Boys and will be following up that lead.”

“Interesting. Ma Brandy was last seen operating out of Chicago. Not necessarily too far from Barewillow Creek but it is suspicious that any of her spawn would be acting anywhere near you. Keep us appraised.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered mechanically.

Nothing else needed to be said so the call was immediately dropped. Frostfire let out the breath he had been holding and slumped back into his chair. He took a few seconds to compose himself, to let his mind rest after the past few hours of hectic activity before he would have to endure Jacob’s scathing remarks. When he was ready, he lifted his gaze to the wolf who was regarding him with a blank stare.

“Whatever you’re going to say or ask, say it,” he rumbled. “Can’t be worse than what’s already been said.”

“Alright,” Reaper answered slowly. “I noticed that whoever that was said that a Class 1 failure is considered a ‘failure to capture, disable and detain a registered or known supervillain to the authorities’.”

“Yeah? So?”

The wolf’s dark, blue eyes narrowed. “So that means that letting them go due to extraneous circumstances would be considered a failure. Like, as we established, you were knocked out.”

Not the question he was expecting but still quite probing to the point that it felt like Reaper was poking him with a hot poker. “Yes. That is exactly what it means. I failed in my duty. I let a dangerous criminal get away.” He eyed Reaper. “Where did you send him, by the way?”

“About two months ahead in time taking into consideration the relative positioning of the earth to the sun and our current place in the cosmos.” Frostfire blinked a few times in confusion. “Basically he’ll appear in that exact spot in Maine two months in the future. If you wanted to arrange for people to arrest him when he comes back, be my guest. It’ll be two months for us but it’ll just have been a second for him.”

An extreme weariness began falling upon Frostfire and he slouched in his seat. “I’ll take your word for it.” Shaking his head, he asked, “Why did you ask about that anyway?”

There was a brief instant when Reaper looked concerned but it faded quickly. “Just thinking how that rule is kind of black and white. You need to capture your enemy and send them over to the authorities. Anything else would be considered a failure. Death, for example.”

The bear mustered his strength and began tapping away at the keys of his laptop. “People with superpowers are rare as is. Each one of them has a unique power and potential. It’d be a waste to just let them die.”

“Back at the hotel, you mentioned that anyone that was unregistered or a villain could not be shown any mercy.”

Frostfire smirked bitterly. “I never said that I would kill them. Doesn’t mean that they would need to be fully alive either.”

“Dark.” Reaper tilted his head to the side. “So hey, you mentioned earlier that you basically abandoned your previous connections and identity when you became a hero. Does that mean that everyone in town knows that you’re ‘Frostfire’?”

The grizzly flicked his ears in annoyance as he hit the Legion search engine, looking for the most recent details on Ma Brandy. “Yes,” he grumbled.

Based on the most recent reports from yesterday, Ma Brandy was spotted in Illinois. Not necessarily Chicago but she should be a few states over. It wasn’t impossible to make the trip over in the span of a day but it seemed an odd move.

“So the people at the lobster restaurant totally knew that you were the town’s assigned superhero. And that I was dining with you.”

He looked up at the wolf. “Problem?”

Reaper crossed his arms though his posture on his comfortable-looking chair was still quite relaxed. “Just thinking about the social implications of having lunch in the company of a superhero. I don’t suppose you’re the kind of person that regularly eats with his… what would you call them? Wards? Constituents?”

“Civilians,” grumbled Frostfire. “Or civs. Whatever fits you.” He tapped his screen. “Ma Brandy was spotted in Illinois yesterday. Could be that this bunch of her boys were sent here to scout out the area. Casing the town for somewhere to lay low if she ever has to go on the run.” Another possibility made him shrug. “Could also be that they were just conveniently in the area and they heard I was out of commission and saw their opportunity to cause some chaos. They aren’t exactly known for being smart.”

“Ma Brandy is sounding more and more formidable than some booze-swilling gangster running a speakeasy reminiscent of some prohibition era proprietress,” Reaper mused.

Frostfire lifted his gaze back to his frustratingly insightful guest. “How’d you know what she looked like?”

Reaper returned a confused look. “I was just making a joke.” A little smile crossed his muzzle. “Is she really some sultry woman with a killer hourglass figure in a sequin dress and a colorful boa around her neck? Does she wear really bright high heels that make an ominous clicking noise with every step she takes?”

The grizzly eyed the wolf through narrowed eyes. “Yes…”

“Hot damn,” laughed Reaper, slapping his armrest. “One hell of a guess. Does she have a really husky voice like she’s smoked way too many cigarettes but when she sings, it’s this breathy, luscious croon that’s simultaneously alluring but also carries undertones of danger like a thinly veiled threat?”

“Yes.”

Reaper was grinning broadly now. “Please tell me she has one of those cigarette holders. You know the ones. Like it’s about half a foot long and has a cigarette on the end.”

Frostfire calmed slightly. “No. But she does have a cane.”

The wolf gave him a look like he had just smelled something foul. “A cane? Really?”

“And a top hat.”

Now the wolf shook his head in confusion. “What!? She’s mixing genres!”

Frostfire turned the screen of his laptop around. “Maybe you should look at her profile.”

While considered an F-rank villainess, he had long memorized Ma Brandy’s dossier. There was nothing to do in Barewillow Creek, after all. Researching F-rank villains was one of his duties as an F-rank hero. Even though she was miles away, the remoteness of Barewillow Creek afforded him enough time to look into her profile even from here.

“Huh,” Reaper started. “She looks to be a a purebred husky. Even got heterochromia. How long ago what this image taken?”

“Months ago.”

“I would’ve thought someone called ‘Ma Brandy’ would be a little on the older side. She looks to be in her early thirties at most.”

Frostfire took the laptop and turned it back towards himself. “Don’t let appearances deceive you. She’s got a tragic back story.”

“Don’t they all? What’s hers?”

Ma Brandy - born Matilda Bradford - was born in Illinois to a middle-class family. She was a sweet girl who had big dreams of having an equally big family. Her family were firm proponents of the lifestyle where men earned the money while women stayed at home, cooked, cleaned and raised the kids. This was passed down to the kids. Being a housewife was exactly what she wanted even in this age of empowerment for women. A beauty even when she was young, the Legion had flagged her as potentially developing superpowers based on her test scores, physical attributes and background.

During one particular school dance, she accidentally ‘infected’ the punch which had already been spiked as was typical of high school dances. The boys who drank the punch transformed into what could only be considered her ‘sons’ and expressed unwavering love towards her. The Legion swooped in and immediately began her transfer to one of the many hero academies in the nation.

“She attended Ultrastar Academy in Illinois,” Frostfire explained. “She was only sixteen when this happened.”

“What’s the average age for people to manifest their powers?”

“Eighteen to twenty-one,” responded Frostfire. “I got mine when I was twenty. Right in the middle of college. People say the stress of college is what triggers the mutation.”

“And high school here isn’t stressful?” scoffed the blond-haired black wolf. “That’d be a first.”

Ignoring the comment, Frostfire continued giving the breakdown about Ma Brandy.

Like many others with powers, she underwent training typical of any academy. Typical things. Gradually increasing physical endurance tests. Exercises designed to develop critical thinking under duress or stressful scenarios. Marketing and PR classes. Throughout it all, however, she could not let go of her conditioning to have a family.

“Superheroes aren’t allowed to have families?” Reaper asked.

“Of course we are. There are even breeding programs to ensure that we keep the population of superheroes up.” Frostfire regarded Ma Brandy’s dossier. “The problem is that Ma Brandy basically made it her whole identity. She obsessively made it her mission to get pregnant and pump out kids.”

“Creepy but I’m sure that’s someone’s kink.”

Frostfire gave him an exasperated sigh. “I guess you wouldn’t know that those with superpowers are biologically wired to have difficulty conceiving.” Just by the way Reaper’s blond eyebrows rose, he knew he was right. “Our powers carry over in our reproductive organs. Women with powers might have ‘hostile wombs’. Imagine a pregnant hero whose whole power is to turn to stone to protect herself. The fetus wouldn’t have that power and suddenly, it’s being fed rocks. Same with guys. A hero whose entire power is that anything he secretes is acidic could burn the insides of a woman he’s getting on with.”

Reaper rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So all powers in this world are purely biological. No magic? No gifts handed down by gods? No cosmic entities?”

Frostfire shook his head. “Those are just in comics and novels. Everyone’s powers are tied to their body.” To prove his point, he held out his left paw. A crimson flame erupted on his palm, immediately starting to turn the brown fur around it black. Then he held out his other paw and ice began to encase his fingertips. The fur around the freezing paw turned white. “Like mine. I can make both fire and ice but only so far as I still have my naturally colored fur. If all my fur turned black, I’ll start to burn myself. If all my fur turns white, my core temperature freezes. I’ve got to keep it balanced.”

He dismissed the two elemental powers lowered his paws, fingertips tingling slightly. “I guess that’s why you’re so weird. You’re not restricted to your physical limitations.”

“I’ll have to remember that next time I engage someone using my powers,” Reaper stated. “Back to Ma Brandy. How does her turning people into ‘her boys’ tie to her physiology?”

Alcohol. It all came down to alcohol. If Ma Brandy had any alcohol in her system, her powers would activate and ‘infect’ any alcohol around her that she came into contact with. Legion analysis showed that creating more of her boys would rapidly drop the alcohol content in her blood. Attempting to create more with little to no alcohol would start to consume her own blood in the process leading to an anemic state if not stopped.

Reaper’s eyes narrowed.

“What?” Frostfire asked.

“How did the Legion ‘test’ these limits?”

There, the grizzly grimaced and looked back at his notes. “Volunteers.”

“Uh-huh. And are her powers permanent? Do people get turned into her ‘boys’ so long as their is still alcohol in their bloodstreams or are they stuck being hopelessly devoted to their ‘mother’?”

Frostfire didn’t answer.

“I see,” rumbled Reaper. There was a cold edge in his dark eyes and his smile was gone. “Please, tell me more about Ma Brandy.”

Glad for the slight change in topic, Frostfire explained how Ma Brandy’s training was specifically tailored to ensuring the least number of ‘volunteers’ were infected while she practiced and developed her powers. Eventually, she became adept enough with her skills that she could infect any booze within a mile of her.

But the Legion had their own concerns.

“Her obsession with having kids and the way she treated her ‘boys’ was a primary concern,” Frostfire said. “It bordered upon an oedipal relationship. Heroes aren’t meant to have any connections and the fact that her powers basically forced this connection and she reciprocated them kept her from graduating.”

Reaper was silent, just leaning back in his chair and watching him.

Frostfire shrugged off the discomfort those dark, blue eyes gave him and continued. As Ma Brandy started watching more and more of her fellow classmates get graduate and get assignments while she was left behind, she began to question her superiors why she was not getting the same treatment. Given stonewalling responses like she ‘just wasn’t ready’ or she ‘still had more to learn’ over and over again, she vented her frustration elsewhere.

“She began getting other guys drunk and having sex with them,” Frostfire said bluntly.

Reaper didn’t say a thing.

“The inevitable happened,” Frostfire growled. “She got pregnant. It was her own child for once. Someone she could love and call her own. A boy that she could raise and wouldn’t have to give up because it was part of her training.”

“Please tell me the Legion didn’t force her to abort the baby.”

The bear stared at Reaper incredulously. “Of course not! I just told you that superhero kids are really important! The Legion encouraged her to carry the kid to term. But then…” His voice trailed off.

“What happened to the kid?” Reaper asked evenly.

Frostfire regarded the screen and the words upon it. His throat went dry just reading the words over and over again like his muzzle just refused to utter them.

“She gave birth… and the kid just turned into brandy the minute it left her.”

The wolf’s eyes widened and he straightened in his seat. “What…?” he whispered.

It was exceedingly rare for children to be born with superpowers let alone manifest them at birth but it was possible. Doctors and experts on the matter theorized that Brandy’s child had the unique power to transform into alcohol but, in the high stress moment of birth, he instinctively activated those powers. However, with no intelligence or training in his powers, the kid couldn’t transform back or control his powers in such a way to maintain any sort of cognition. So… he just stayed as alcohol and perished. Another theory posited that the child was just another manifestation of the mother’s powers but no one could be sure.

Ma Brandy was, understandably, beside herself with grief.

The Legion’s response, however, was what tipped her over the edge.

“Just make another one,” Frostfire muttered. “It wasn’t nearly as callous as that but like I said, superheroes having kids is really rare. Having someone that has proven capable of having a kid is basically a goldmine. They had already planned out a breeding program for her. It was on her to accept or not, though. It was her choice.”

“I’m guessing she chose a third option,” Reaper said. “Turned her back on the Legion and became Ma Brandy.”

Frostfire nodded grimly. “Left the Legion. Started her own little crime syndicate. But never anything world-ending though. She barely qualifies as an F-rank villain.”

There, Reaper’s eyebrows shot up. “Someone who can literally and permanently reshape your entire genetic structure to become one of her bastard sons and you call that an ‘F-rank villain’? What’s an A-rank? Or an ‘S-rank’ if you guys go up that high.” He inclined his head slightly. “What’s the highest rank?”

“EX. Foes from F to A, followed by S and then EX.”

“Fascinating.” There was a genuine tone of curiosity in the black lupine’s voice. “And how are these rankings established?”

Frostfire held up his paw, all digits stretched out. “Five attributes. Intelligence, Strength, Endurance, Agility and Adaptability.” He bobbed his head to the side. “There’s a sort of sixth one for ‘Potential’ but it’s not official. Basically, an indication of how much you could potentially grow in the other five.”

Reaper stood from his seat. “As tempting as it would be to see if I can play jump rope with those thresholds, I’ve heard enough.”

A chill ran down Frostfire’s spine and he found his muscles inadvertently tensing. Reaper was glowering though not at him in particular. The room seemed to grow dark so only his eyes were visible against his silhouette. Even given their color, it almost looked like they were burning blue.

“I think I’d like to meet this Ma Brandy.”

❖

* * * * *

There was an overwhelming temptation to ‘open his eyes’, find Ma Brandy and immediately appear by her side. Jacob was already considering some vaguely veiled threats or concocting plans to guide her back to the path of righteousness including, but not limited to, scoping out realities where her child had survived or if she never manifested her powers. However, he decided not to pursue that course of action. He knew that if he peeked into all possibilities, he would start seeing all the potential this world had and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from interfering.

Even now, sitting in the passenger seat of Frostfire’s red truck, there was this nagging sensation to free the reality from the strings of its origins as his ‘holiday location’. Give it purpose, a true story beyond being a gilded cage with bars made out of morals.

He resisted.

Not because he didn’t want to.

But because he was too self-aware that it would not help his recovery. The experience was causing him discomfort just behind his eyes. It was akin to eye strain like he had been staring at a screen with high brightness and contrast for too long without blinking.

“Tell me something, Reaper,” Frostfire said as the truck glided soundlessly through the mostly empty streets of Barewillow Creek. It was already mid-afternoon, after three. The kids were out of school and there was no such thing as afternoon traffic in this sleepy town. “If you have all the powers that you claim you have, why don’t you just use it to fix everything? Why not just cure the victims of Ma Brandy. Find her and… I don’t know…”

“Rewrite her?” Jacob finished, giving Frostfire a sidelong glance. “Mostly because I hate rewrites. Been the victim of that once or twice. Also because that level of interference and power has contributed to my detachment from my passion.” He held out a paw, absently watching the golden rays of the sun drifting between his furry fingers. “I used to love helping people triumph over their adversities and conquer their fears to become the best they can be. But then it became more of a job and I started seeing patterns. Commonalities. Anticipating cliches. I would tell myself that no matter all the possibilities that I see, people would always surprise me. I would purposefully limit my abilities, tell myself it was for the ‘good of the reality’s cohesion’ or something and convince myself that it wasn’t just me trying to challenge myself because I was genuinely growing more and more cynical of my role.

“Truth was, I had just become so good at my job that I failed to realize what should have been a hobby, a way to experience new things and journey with people, had become just that… a job.”

He lowered his paw in defeat. “So, to answer your question, I think the best sort of therapy to get myself out of that rut is to have full access to my powers but not use them. Fight that temptation and appreciate what I have.”

“And yet you’re still going around as the Lobstermancer.”

Jacob snorted. “I never said I was perfect. Besides, it’s my first day in this world.” Then his face fell and he rubbed his temple with one paw. “Fuck… It’s my first day in this reality.”

Not to mention he basically had to content with the equivalent of biological war machines while attempting to maintain a modicum of relaxation. When even sipping a bit of beer could get him permanently mind controlled by a malicious, vengeful matriarch, he needed to be armed in some way. Rendering himself immune to all superpowers would be far too easy to detect. Ma Brandy could turn anyone who had a drop of alcohol that she had infected within a mile of her. Who knew what other kinds of powers were out there.

The truck came to halt in front of the small, quaint sheriff’s office. In such a small town, it was just a simple single-story building right next to the local courthouse. The parking lot in front of the red-brick building could house six cars at most. Two of those were already taken up by the two squad cars.

“Why did you want to meet the Brandy Boys anyway?” asked Frostfire. “They’re not going to give up anything they know about their mom.”

Jacob straightened in his seat and opened the passenger-side door. “Maybe not anything about her plans or anything even vaguely negative. I’m sure, however, they would gush at the opportunity to sing her praises.”

“And what will that achieve?”

“Hopefully some insight into her mental state.”

He let Frostfire take the lead as they strode into the office. Given the size of the office, there was no receptionist area. The moment they stepped through the door, there was just a small, waist-high door that immediately led into the bullpen. Two desks sat near the door, one was currently unoccupied but the other had a portly gorilla wearing a deep green uniform that was reminiscent of a park ranger’s outfit. Black eyes immediately widened and shone when Frostfire came into view.

“Frostfire!” the ape exclaimed. “I heard from other guys in town that you were back! Glad to see you’re alright!”

Young and enthusiastic. The kind of starry-eyed hero worshiper that got into the business of law enforcement because that was the closest they could get to being actual heroes. Jacob tore his gaze from the man to avoid any further analysis and took in the rest of the office.

There were only five desks including the two near the door. All of them were empty save for the one the ape was occupying. At the far end of the facility was the holding cells. On the right were four members of the Brandy Boys, including the leader. On the left was the one possessing a superpower, Boom-Boom. The biggest of the Brandy Boys was currently restrained against the wall, his paws forced apart as he was strapped to the wall by thick, metal bindings.

“And this is Haywind Colt,” Frostfire said, gesturing at Jacob. “He was passing through town and I thought I’d show him how we do things around here.”

“That’s a great idea!” exclaimed the gorilla, bounding out from behind the door and taking Jacob’s paw enthusiastically. “I’m Milton Brown! Pleased to meet, you Haywind.”

Throwing in his southern accent, Jacob responded with, “Please, jus’ call me ‘Holt’. Everyone does.”

“Sure thing, Holt!” Milton then started pulling Jacob towards the cells. “Come on. I bet you’ll love to see how Mr. Frostfire interrogates criminals!”

“I’m sure I will,” he said, feigning a smile. As he did so, he turned his gaze towards the Brandy Boys who all glowered at them a they approached.

“Well, well, well,” crowed the leader. “If it ain’t the lameduck hero who got steamrolled by another F-rank! You missed out on all the fun, Frosty! Looks like Legion sent in an S-Rank to take over while you were slacking!”

Frostfire visibly bristled. “Unlikely. I already spoke to the Legion leadership. The Lobstermancer was just a vigilante. Certainly put you five in your place.”

The leader threw his head back and let out a mocking laugh. “Yeah he did. Way easier than anything you could have done! Bet we’d get in a few of our own punches in before you even managed to lock up one of us!” He gave Frostfire a wicked grin. “Come on, big man. Let us out! Let’s see what this backwater town’s hero is actually capable of.”

To his credit, Frostfire didn’t actually rise to the bait and remained calm.

“I wanted to ask you about what you were doing here in Barewillow Creek.”

The leader shrugged. “Just passing through. Heard you were out of commission so thought we’d nab a few things for the road.” The man strode up to the bars, gripped them in his hands and leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear. “So how about it? You let us out and I’m sure Ma would be sure to reward ya. Maybe keep your little town safe. Nothing better than having a bunch of us Boys protecting your borders.”

Jacob decided to step in. “Except maybe becoming a ‘Boy’ yerself?”

The husky mix-breed regarded him with a scowl. “And who’re you meant to be?”

“Jus’ myself,” he answered enigmatically with a casual smile that could easily be interpreted as dimwitted or dense. “What’s so good ‘bout bein’ one o’ Ma Brandy’s Boys anyway?”

“Are you kidding?” chimed in another one of them. “It’s like just shutting yerself off, ya know? You don’t need to think!” He punched his temple with a knuckle lightly. “Ma does all the thinking. If not her then whoever she makes a leader of your pack! I dun have to think! Just do!”

“And we get to be so strong!” one of the other goons exclaimed, flexing his muscles. They were certainly impressive. Above average but nowhere near herculean like Frostfire or even the other Brandy Boy that had superpowers. “All I do is just sleep, eat, workout and cave in a few skulls!”

“If yer lucky, you might even get a superpower!” laughed the third. “Boom-Boom over there was just this old, divorced, old coot and he got to make explosions when he clapped his paws!”

Jacob glanced over at Frostfire for confirmation.

“I had heard that Ma Brandy could trigger latent superpowers in people,” answered the hero. “Not everyone activates their superpowers when they hit maturity and sometimes, it just lays dormant. The Legion thinks that the stress of having your entire genetic structure rewired from her powers is enough to activate any superpowers.”

“Well gee,” Jacob responded, beaming brightly. “That sure does sound mighty temptin’. But don’t ya miss yer friends? Yer family? Individuality?”

“What friends?” countered one of the men.

“What family?” added another.

“What individuality?” scoffed the leader. “You think you’re a unique little snowflake in this world? Bullshit. You’re just a cog. Just another piece in the big machine that thinks he’s making waves but really doing shit all. You’re all under the thumbs of big shot billionaires, sell-out politicians and power hungry superheroes like the Legion!”

Milton stepped forward, baring his fangs while reaching for his gun. “Hey! You take that back!”

“Easy,” Frostfire warned, holding up a paw. “He’s just trying to get you riled up.” His cool eyes turned back towards the leader. “What does Ma Brandy want? You’re a long way away from Chicago.”

The leader shrugged again. “Just like I said. We was just passing through. Saw an opportunity and took it. Got taken down by a better superhero.”

Frostfire sneered but didn’t say anything.

“Might just be a coincidence,” agreed Jacob casually, stunning both Frostfire and Officer Milton. “I mean, Ma Brandy would be really stupid ta do anything now that the Lobstermancer is around. She’s, like an F-rank villain, right?” Lobstermancer is clearly an A-rank. S, at most. If she was to try an’ muscle in now, she’d have her ass handed to her. ‘Specially that the Lobstermancer clearly ain’t one of the Legion’s heroes, right?” He nudged Frostfire with an elbow. “Could be a vigilante. Could outright kill her since he ain’t bound to any laws.”

The leader snarled and snapped his jaws. “Ma ain’t scared of no vigilante! She’s a lot stronger than what the Legion gives her credit for!”

“Yeah!” exclaimed another of the Brandy Boys. “They just call her an F-rank to keep people from fearing her! Downplay her powers not to cause panic!” The man grinned from ear to ear, an almost manic look in his eyes. “But she’s comin’ for you! She’s coming for all of you and this town!”

Jacob offered a little smile. “Oh, so she is coming here.”

All smiles on the Brandy Boys’ fell.

“Well, thank ya fer yer time,” said the wolf, waving cheekily. “I guess I better head out before she makes her grand appearance. Don’t want to get caught in that.”

Then he turned and heading for the door, whistling a nameless tune on the way while swinging his arms enthusiastically. Frostfire snorted in the direction of the Brandy Boys, gave Officer Milton a nod and then followed Jacob out of the office. The moment they were both back out into the open, Jacob quieted his whistling but kept it going up until they got up to Frostfire’s truck.

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for today,” he said, leaning against the hood of the truck. “Since you’re up and running, you mind driving me back to that hotel I brought you to? I think I’d like a nap.”

Frostfire whirled around to face him. “No!”

Jacob narrowed his gaze. “Such a violent reaction. Absolutely not suspicious.” Relaxing his stance he said, “Just be straight we with me, Sparkles. What do you want? Is there a part that hurts that I didn’t fix up right? Is your confidence shaken because of how I handily defeated Dark Strider and then showed off the fine art of Lobstermancy? Are you afraid I’m just one mental breakdown from annihilating this entire universe?” He made a slicing motion through the air. “I assure you, I’m far too neurotic to ever do something like that. Something I get from my dad.”

He locked gazes with the grizzly. “Just come out with it, man. If you want me gone right now, I can be on the other side of the planet or colonizing a distant rock in the Andromeda galaxy. Just ask.”

Frostfire was silent for a long moment. “Really?”

“Really.” Jacob offered a sad little smile as he gazed at his reflection in the shiny, red coating of the truck. “I’ve been asked the fuck off more times than I can count. Most of those times, I refused the request because I was always playing some longer game, had some broader scheme or plan that would ultimately see the story of those involved turn out better.” He lifted his gaze back to Frostfire. “For the first time, I don’t have something like that. I literally have nothing tying me to this planet except for the fact that it’s where I landed twenty-four hours ago. I could literally just craft an entire galaxy on the other side of this universe or branch off into an alternate reality if you wanted me to.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Good question,” Jacob laughed, more to himself than anyone else. “I guess… because I literally have nothing else to do. No reason to leave. But… if you asked me to…”

Frostfire shook his head and waved his paws through the air. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m almost disappointed,” he said through a humorless laugh. Then his tone became chillingly serious. “So tell me. Why the enthusiasm to keep me from that hotel?”

The bear took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re still an enigma. A wildcard. I don’t fully believe everything you’ve told me about what you can do but I can’t, in any right mind, just let you out of my sight if you can literally control the universe.” He held up a paw. “I know I probably can’t stop you…”

“You can’t stop me. No ‘probably’ about it.” Jacob waved at him to continue. “But go on.”

“Right. I can’t stop you. But you can’t stop me either from keeping an eye on you as best I can.”

Jacob felt a smile crawl on his muzzle and opened the passenger door to the truck. “Fair enough. You’ve got your duty. Even at the cost of your own life and sanity, you’ll fight to maintain that duty. I respect that. But I am going to need somewhere to sleep, you know.”

The bear jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Can’t you just snap your fingers and immediately be refreshed or something?”

“You’re learning.” The wolf smiled as he buckled himself with the seatbelt. “Yes, I could completely obliterate the need for sleep. Could stop time for everyone apart from me and sleep for eight hours straight uninterrupted while maintaining bodily functions and avoiding the dread of draining oxygen around me as I sleep thus creating a vacuum.” He tilted his head to the side. “Or just refresh my brain and body on a biological level to emulate sleep.” Then he shook his head, dismissing the idea. “But shutting down my own brain and genuinely drifting into my subconscious offers a level of insight that I am sometimes not privy to in my waking hours.” He offered a bright grin. “Nothing like the existential dread that come from your own nightmares to really put things into perspective.”

Frostfire pulled away from the sheriff’s office and started the drive back to his home. “You… are weird…” He drummed his thick fingers on the steering wheel. “Did you get anything from that interaction with the Brandy Boys?”

Jacob rested an elbow against the window and his cheek against a knuckle. “A few things. I have no doubt that Ma Brandy does rewrite a victim’s mind and transforms them. But I don’t think she genuinely has complete control over them. Someone as careful as the Brandy matriarch wouldn’t be so careless as to assume that just because you were out of commission briefly, that it was an opportune moment to rob a convenience store of all things. Not to mention it was barely a few hours since your fight with Dark Strider. To attack so soon afterwards is assuming a lot about the fight.”

“She’s not exactly the most powerful or dangerous villain out there, you know.”

Jacob glanced over at Frostfire. “I still find it hard to believe that someone that can effectively enslave the entirety of the planet over one drunken night could only be considered F-rank. You must all have very sober New Years celebrations.” He then looked back out the window. “It just feels like she’s not out there to be a criminal. From the backstory you told me, I’m willing to wager that she is desperately searching to fill the hole that her son left in her heart while battling the stigma the Legion and media put on her for daring to leave their tutelage.”

“The Legion -” Frostfire began growling.

“I’m not criticizing the Legion’s methods or motivation. They do what they do. I can’t fault them for painting Ma Brandy the way they did. Anyone would.” His voice grew a little distant. “A parent who has paid, housed and fed a child would feel likewise betrayed if that very same child attacked them or started talking smack about them behind their back. There is still that connection but they will feel betrayed.”

He felt the bear’s probing eyes on him. “You have kids?”

“Nope. Have no intention to have any either. Especially given my current state.”

With the drive being as short as it was, they were back upon Frostfire’s home within ten minutes. Jacob stepped out and followed the bear back to the front door.

“I’ve got a spare room you can sleep in,” rumbled the grizzly. “I… Uh… I don’t have a bed in there so…”

Jacob waved the concern away. “I can make my own. Literally. You don’t have to worry about me.” He glanced up at the sky which was only starting to turn golden from the sunset. “It’s still fairly early. Did you want to binge watch something? I could hook up your TV to channels from other dimensions or create an AI that will automatically generate something tailored to you.”

Frostfire shook his head. “No. Might be better if we go over the files of some other villains and heroes. Would be useful if you are planning to travel across the country so you don’t cause any problems.”

Jacob’s eyebrows rose. “That’s… quite helpful. I would appreciate it.”

The grizzly just grunted and opened the door into his home. Naturally, it was dark but the moment the door opened Jacob immediately detected a scent in the air that immediately made his hackles rise.

Embers… and cigarette smoke.

Frostfire hadn’t caught it.

Jacob grabbed his shoulder and immediately pulled him back, taking the lead.

“Hey -” began the bear but Jacob shot him a silencing look while holding up a finger to his muzzle.

Taking the lead, he followed the scent all the way back to Frostfire’s study… where he had left the large, lavished chair alone in the room. There, perched on the throne, was a shapely woman dressed in a ruby-red sequin dress with a pink, feathery boa around her neck. Black, high-heeled boots absently tapped the carpet impatiently while she twirled a cigarette holder between her supple fingers. Flanking the seat were two, large, imposing brutes; both of them of the canine variety.

“Ma Brandy!” hissed Frostfire. Flames and ice immediately generated from the bear’s paws.

Jacob couldn’t help but give a rueful, humorless smile. “How’s that for a final act sting?” he mused quietly to himself.

“You’re supposed to be in Chicago!” barked Frostfire.

The supervillain didn’t respond at first and took a long puff from her cigarette holder. She blew a cloud of ash into the air between them, obscuring their vision of her save for her eyes. The gesture had been perfected to art. “I get around, my dear. You will find your Legion doesn’t know everything about me.”

Before Frostfire could respond, Jacob interrupted.

“You mean the fact that all documentation about your use of your powers has always been on men? That there is currently no evidence of what would happen to any woman who was affected by your abilities?”

There was a moment when the supervillain’s cool facade broke.

A moment that Jacob pounced upon.

“The ‘you’ in Chicago is a clone, isn’t it? A woman who wholeheartedly believes that she is you. Maybe even has a modicum of your powers, drawing the Legion’s attention while you’re here scheming away?”

Again, Ma Brandy took a puff from her cigarette and let it out slowly. “Or I could be the clone.”

Frostfire stared at Jacob and then Ma Brandy, his eyes darting between them back and forth rapidly. “No… It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Jacob growled. “Or maybe she’s just playing up my theory to mask that there’s a mole in the Legion that’s been covering her tracks. Maybe the lover that impregnated her that first time or something. Not too sure. There are many possibilities.”

And he was not going to peer into which one of them was the truth with his eyes.

There was no need for that just yet.

“I heard you were spotted around town with a sidekick, Frostfire,” Ma Brandy chuckled darkly. “I had no idea he would be quite so… imaginative.” She waved her paws through the air. Two other, large brutes stepped out from the shadows, dragging two foldout chairs in front of them. “Why don’t you two have a seat and we can chat?”

Frostfire glowered and moved towards one of the seats.

“Just like that?’ Jacob asked, taking up the other seat.

“We’re in a residential area,” sneered the grizzly. “If she wanted, she could activate her powers. No telling how much alcohol is running through her blood. She could turn half of Barewillow Creek if they’re all sufficiently drunk. Even without them, her Boys might be lurking nearby.”

“Such a good little hero,” snickered Ma Brandy. One of her Boys moved beside her, producing a glass filled with whiskey. Two similar brutes produced glasses for both Jacob and Frostfire. “So now why don’t we have a drink together? Let’s talk.”

It was clear that it was now a request.

Jacob took the glass before him, glanced at Frostfire and then flashed Ma Brandy a grin. “Sure. I’m game.”

Then he tipped his head back and downed the entire glass of whiskey. It burned his throat all the way down but it was worth it seeing the shocked expressions of both Ma Brandy and Frostfire.

“Reaper!” exclaimed the bear.

“What?” he answered, handing the now empty glass back to the stunned brute. “What’s the worst that can happen?” Without waiting for an answer, he swiped the glass from Frostfire’s paws and downed its contents as well. Again, that terrible burning sensation but one that he could easily endure.

Then, leaning forward with his paws on his knees, he grinned at Ma Brandy.

“Let’s talk.”

Miss Brandy

* * * * *

Ma Brandy stared at them both for the longest time, an eternity. At least that was how it felt to Frostfire. Then she began to laugh. Cackle, really. She used the ruby-topped cane she held in one hand to push herself off the extravagant seat that Reaper had manifested. Holding her own glass of whiskey while her cigarette holder was intertwined between her fingers, she let out a laugh that brought images of wild witches in sepia tone.

“You must either be incredibly brave or monumentally stupid,” she laughed, talking directly to Reaper.

“Can’t I be both?” Reaper answered with a shrug. The grin on his muzzle was smug, brutal and challenging. “And before your ego starts inflating, just keep in mind that you have no idea what my powers are. For all you know, they could nullify yours.”

She looked down upon him and sipped her whiskey. “Bold of you to assume that I would waste any of my time on converting either of you. As trash churned out of the Legion, I wouldn’t have you tainting my Boys even if you had some incredible power that could wipe them off the map.”

“Geez…” Reaper laughed, ducking his head though his smile remained. “F-rank villains are something else. Seriously, this kind of commitment and sheer gravitas would put a lot of what would be considered low-rank villains to shame.”

“I don’t know what F-ranks you’ve been talking to, boy,” Ma Brandy hissed. “But they clearly don’t know what it’s like to struggle from the bottom to make a living or to even be taken seriously.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Power scaling is just scary sometimes.” Reaper’s smile faded slightly. “Speaking of which…” He began rotating a paw absently. “… is the whole getting women to drink your beer and turning them into body doubles a recent thing or has that always been something you could do and the Legion just hid it from the public for fear of the panic it would stoke?”

That was a very pertinent question and one Frostfire wanted an answer to. Reaper even admitted that it was just a theory but he had to admit that there was a surprising lack of information on the effects of her powers on her own gender. It was that… or the alternative which was far more terrifying.

“What do you think, pup?” cooed Ma Brandy.

Reaper met her gaze, unwavering. “Frankly? I want to believe that you were tenacious enough to continuously develop your powers that you have evolved beyond the expectations and calculations that the Legion had on you. That seeing the world from the other side has forced you to adapt in ways that they could never have anticipated.” Then his smile faded completely. “Unfortunately, that also suggests that you were ‘experimenting’ with these powers and, unrestricted by morals or the law, I would have to infer that people suffered for you to get to that level of control over your abilities. No one just spontaneously ‘learns’ a new ability.”

The smile on her muzzle was icy and emotionless. “You have a fascinating outlook, little sidekick.” She leaned forward, blowing cigarette smoke right into his face. He didn’t even blink or flinch. “I wonder. Who hurt you? What is your tragic back story?”

He flashed her a dark grin. “How does being tortured, having your eyes mutilated and then having cybernetic wings grafted to your spine sound?”

She frowned briefly and glanced over his shoulders looking for any sort of wings.

WHAM!

Which gave Reaper the opportunity to slam his forehead against hers. She let out a cry and staggered back. The brute beside the wolf immediately threw a punch with a fist larger than his head. It made contact and Reaper toppled to the ground.

“Reaper!” Frostfire shouted. He was about to leap up but another one of the goons grasped his shoulder and pinned him back to his seat.

“Now what purpose did that serve?” hissed Ma Brandy, fangs bared.

“Just checking if your head is harder than mine,” answered Reaper as he was hauled back into his seat by one of her Boys. The wolf appeared uninjured and though Ma Brandy was covering her forehead with a paw, she was otherwise unharmed. “I’ve been known to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong and refuse to remain uninvolved despite better counsel.”

“You should listen to your counsel more often,” she snarled taking a few steps back and sitting back down on the large chair. “You might live longer.”

Jacob’s eyes dropped and though his features were somber, Frostfire could see the mockery behind his dark eyes. A little glimmer in those dark-blue irises that suggested the wolf found Ma Brandy’s words absolutely hilarious and he was barely keeping his laughter in.

Deciding he needed time to recover, Frostfire spoke up to bring attention off the dark-furred wolf. “You wanted to talk, Brandy. Let’s talk.”

She lazily turned her gaze over to him. “Oh. You’re still here. I had almost forgotten about you. Your sidekick was giving off stronger…” She waved her cigarette holder absently through the air. “… protagonist energy than you were.” After another puff from her cigarette she locked her gaze upon him. “You have five of my boys in prison. I want them back. Do that, and I won’t tear your little hamlet apart brick by brick.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Frostfire snarled.

A soft sigh left her lips. “Of course you can’t. It was still worth asking.” Her gaze wandered away from him. “I have danced with other heroes more competent than you, Frostfire. Though we may not have the extensive network that the Legion has, we villains trade information too. So I know all about you, Owen.”

The bear’s heart froze like someone had shot an icy arrow straight into his heart.

“Yes,” cooed Ma Brandy, her eyes chillingly steely and a cool smile on her muzzle. “Owen Reilly. 25 this year if memory serves. Dual elemental powers of fire and ice. Now what was your tragic backstory that led you to becoming a superhero? What was it again?” She tapped her chin absently.

“Who are you trying to break here, Brandy?” Reaper asked suddenly, having lifted his head. “Me or him? If you’re doing that cliched thing where you reveal how he committed a terrible sin back in the day that led him to how he is now just so that I would lose respect for him or to see my face as my faith in him vanished, I’ve got news for you.” That grin returned. “I can turn that on like a switch. Check it out.”

He suddenly turned towards Frostfire, eyes wide, muzzle half-open and looking absolutely - and more importantly, genuinely - crestfallen. There was even a shimmer of tears in the corners of his eyes that added to the illusion. Frostfire felt his heartstrings being pulled just staring at the act even if it was entirely fake.

“Ha! See!” Jacob exclaimed, suddenly reeling back and breaking the illusion. “I totally got him! I swear he was starting to cry! Someone tell me you got that on playback. I can totally pinpoint the moment when his heart was about to break.”

Frostfire gave the wolf a foul stare. “You are unbelievable.”

“Understatement of this eternity,” Reaper chuckled. “If you honestly tried to understand even a fraction of me, you’d go insane! I’m you’re neighborly, blue-eyed, black-furred, blond-haired eldritch god!”

Ma Brandy just stared incredulously at the exchange. “Did… did he get hit too hard?”

Reaper smirked at her. “Ma’am, if you hit me hard enough to drive me so insane that it drowns out all the self-doubt, inner monologues and the burden of knowledge in my head, I’d honestly let you peg me with a foot-long spiked strap-on. Sadly, I’m still miserably sane. So much so that I can comfortably point out that I have diverted attention off Frostfire’s backstory and drawn attention back to me.”

As the Brandy Boy that was hovering over him approached Reaper once more, the wolf was suddenly on his feet, picking up the foldout chair in one swoop and slamming it right into the mutt’s face.

“How’s that for protagonist energy!?” he roared.

Frostfire was about to rise but Jacob held up a paw. He refused the gesture and stood up of his own accord. The mutt beside him tried to push him back down to his seat but crimson flames erupted from where the man touched him. The Boy staggered back, letting out a cry while desperately trying to douse the flames.

“I cannot and will not free your Boys from my jail cell,” he growled at Ma Brandy. “So let’s do the math. I’ve got something you want. You’re in my house and I can’t reasonably let you go. You can threaten my town but I’m going to make you hurt for it.” Then he inclined his head at Jacob. “Then you’ve got Reaper here. You don’t know what his powers are. You know all about mine but you have nothing on him.”

“He could just be a civilian you’re fucking,” said Ma Brandy coolly. “Is he your dirty little secret, Frostfire?”

Reaper rolled his eyes. “Please tell me I can turn her paws into chickens.”

“No…” Frostfire warned, never letting his gaze falter from Brandy. “We’re at an impasse.”

“That we are,” huffed Brandy. “In retrospect, I suppose it was impulsive of me to come here and confront you. However, you have some of my Boys and I simply cannot abandon them.” She got up off the seat. “How about this? You forget this encounter ever happened and so will I. It doesn’t get reported. You don’t earn any demerits on your score with the Legion and the public doesn’t look too poorly upon me. But…” She lifted a single finger. “You will release my Boys. One way or another, you will release them. I’m in town now, Frostfire. Let’s see if you can keep anyone from drinking.”

Jacob shrugged. “Let’s just start a fight club. Instead of getting drunk with alcohol, let’s get them drunk on violence.”

“No!” Frostfire exclaimed. “What is wrong with you?”

“A lot. Do you want the cliffnotes or should I give you an itemized list?” Reaper folded his arms and looked back towards Brandy. “But at least I didn’t suggest drugs.”

She batted her eyes at him. “I would never.”

“Yet. Alcohol isn’t too far of a leap to recreational drugs or even thrill seeking. It wouldn’t surprise me if you haven’t even vaguely considered the possibility especially as we’ve already established that you’re not above experimentation.” Ma Brandy made no reply and just regarded him with a sly, chilling smile.

“So where do we go from here?” asked the wolf. “I assume calling for any sort of help from the Legion would lead to you pulling the trigger.”

“Of course,” she answered coyly while examining the crystal glass in her paws. “And the effects of my powers are permanent. You also know there is a distinct possibility that the ‘me’ here right now isn’t even the original Ma Brandy. No one even knew I was here. The Legion has no idea how my powers have grown. Just imagine the kind of chaos that would happen if you boys were to do something as stupid as call your friends at the Legion.”

All very valid and very threatening points. Bad enough that she was here in Barewillow Creek but her presence clearly put into question the intelligence the Legion had on her. She knew their tactics. Probably had a good idea of their current composition. If she had clones in other countries as well, she could activate them without hesitation and the fallout from that would mark the Legion’s incompetence. An international incident was just on the horizon.

“That leaves me with the advantage,” she warned. “Heroes have people they care about. A reputation they must maintain. I am not so restricted. You will free my Boys or else you will feel the wrath of a mother scorned.”

Frostfire recalled what Jacob had mentioned on their ride here.

‘It just feels like she’s not out there to be a criminal.’

“And what would you do if I were to kill your Boys?”

Ma Brandy’s gaze grew sharp and her eyes darted towards him. Jacob, likewise, gave him a curious sidelong glance.

“Then I will take great joy in overwriting every cell with your body slowly and painfully until you love me as much as they do,” she threatened. “And I will make sure that you are fully aware as I make you the key to the Legion’s downfall. You will watch as your body spreads my own brand of beer all throughout the country, helping me with every operation, fully aware and using your own powers to defend my Boys while you lie trapped in your own little mental prison while your body smiles like a dumb brick and professes nothing but love for me.”

Frostfire expected any sort of quip from Reaper. Nothing came. He briefly glanced at the wolf to see those dark-blue eyes watching him carefully.

“You have three days,” Ma Brandy said, striding past him. “I know how long it takes to go through the bureaucracy. I was supposed to be part of the Legion a long time ago, after all.” She stopped just at the door to his office. “And if either of you think it would be smart to come after me, just remember that this hamlet in the middle of nowhere is barely big enough to fit it’s population. I could turn everyone into one of my Boys with just the simplest of commands.”

She took one more step away. “A pity. I think you both would have made for formidable allies. You both seemed smart enough to see through the Legion’s propaganda and lies. Even you, Lobstermancer.”

The faintest twitch of a smile crossed Reaper’s muzzle. “What gave me away?”

“Same build. Lupine. No tail. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

It was the first time Frostfire noticed that Jacob did not have a tail at all.

Reaper let out a soft scoff. “I keep forgetting to add that. Been so long since I’ve had one.”

Ma Brandy let out a thoughtful hum before striding away, accompanied by her goons. The slam of his back door indicated that was where she had entered his home from. Likely jumped multiple fences just to make her grand entrance. One of these days, he told himself, he would invest in a decent security system. That last thought caused him to collapse back into his chair, groaning softly and draping a paw over his eyes.

“That went to hell…” he rumbled.

“Certainly could have gone better,” agreed Reaper. “But it was very insightful.”

He peeked through his fingers at the wolf. “How do you figure?”

Holding up one finger, Jacob said, “She clearly cares about her boys. It’s an emotional vulnerability but also her strength. The minute you threatened the lives of one of her ‘Boys’, she went on the offensive. I’m sure she has steeled her heart against such an eventuality, though. Killing any of them will only piss her off. I doubt you could kill multiple to make her slip and fly into a blind rage too.”

Then he held up a second finger. “Second, we’ve got confirmation that she has a broad network. It was subtle but when she warned us about ‘all the chaos’ she could cause if we called the Legion, it suggested that it wouldn’t be limited to Barewillow Creek. No matter how she has established that network be it through copies of herself, hired actors to look like her or just cells of her Boys in different parts of the country, she has her foot on the Legion’s throat and is just waiting for an excuse to crush its windpipe.”

Finally, he raised a third finger. “Lastly, she does not want to be captured. Her greatest advantage is the mystery around her powers and capabilities. She’s keeping us guessing. No monologues or boasting. She’s holding her cards close to her chest and trying hard to not confirm or deny any of the scenarios that could hint at her powers.” He smirked. “But that also means that capturing her here and now could pose a significant threat to her operation.”

Reaper turned towards him. “Are there any people in the Legion that could pose a significant threat to her? Maybe probe her mind? Undo her conditioning? Anything?”

Frostfire had to delve into his inner workings of the Legion. Unfortunately, he had no visibility on of its members above E-rank. Heroes could only ever view the profiles of their fellow heroes on the same rank or one rank above or below them. Though the public got decent views of other heroes and their abilities through the media, information was as much a powerful weapon as any superpower. Since every power was closely tied to one’s physical state, limiting the information of the conditions to activate one’s powers was crucial. After all, if a hero whose ability relied solely on their arms had that information leaked, a villain could sever those arms and immediately neuter them.

“At E-rank,” he said, “there’s Mindwipe. She mind be able to figure Ma Brandy out. I’m sure an S-rank like Pscion or an EX-rank like Hypnos could do it as well but they would never bother if an F-rank like Ma Brandy. Even with all her threats.”

“That’s discouraging.”

“Can’t you do it?” Frostfire asked. “You’re the master of reality, right? Couldn’t you just wind back time or fix them?”

“I could.” Just by his tone alone, Frostfire knew he wasn’t going to. “But then I’d be exposed. The Legion will be after me. Maybe some villains too.” He shrugged dismissively. “I could wipe everyone’s memories. Conversely, I could just rewrite Ma Brandy entirely so that her career as a superhero actually took off. That instead of being vengeful, heartbroken bitch, she took the loss of her son as a rallying cry. Could make her an advocate for the complication of birth in women especially those with superpowers.”

Then he shook his head. “But that would make all of this is meaningless. All of it would be meaningless. It is a solution without soul. It would be something I would have to do because it would make the most people happy. It becomes a mathematical equation and not a story.”

Frostfire shook his head in incredulous confusion. “But people’s lives are at risk! What is so wrong with saving the most people? With saving them all?”

Reaper glared at him, a laser-like stare that made the bear pause.

“See, that’s the problem with you protagonists. It’s a numbers game. How many quests can you finish? How many experience points can you gain? How many people can you save? All for some grander scheme because there is always a grander scheme out there.” He waved his paws around him in frustration. “It’s a view I adopted for the longest time and led me to feeling like shit. Kept justifying that people had to suffer, had to die, had to feel loss, pain and hopelessness just so they can rise up later. That is was okay for them to die because I could always reincarnate them into a better scenario later. That despite all my abilities, I had to let them make their own choices and I was blameless because even after I stacked the board in their favor, they still did the stupid thing and got themselves hurt.”

Reaper turned away, shaking his head. He made a slicing motion through the air with his paw. “I’m done taking that stance. I am choosing not to deus ex machina this. I will figure out another solution. I will bear the burden of people’s suffering. If I can’t find out a solution, I will make one.”

“How is letting people get hurt any better than actually doing something to save them!?” Frostfire roared, clawing through the air in frustration. “You keep saying that you’re on holiday to find the joy in helping people but what people can you help when they’re all dead or turned into brainless goons for some drunk chick!?”

Reaper whirled around and bared his fangs at him. “You think I’m doing this for shits and giggles? It’s killing me not to reach into my powers and just undo everything that’s happened here! You might not remember but I will!” He jabbed his temple with a finger. “I’ve spent so goddamn long looking at all the possibilities that it fucking scares me when I shut my eyes off and shit like this happens!”

Frostfire waved his own paws through the air in frustration. “So use your powers! What good is having them if you don’t!?”

“What ‘good’ will come out of anything if you never have to do anything for yourself?” Jacob snarled back. “I would be no better than Ma Brandy if I just constantly snapped my fingers and corrected everyone’s mistakes while drilling into their brains what the correct route was. I would be rewriting them.” He gestured angrily at the door that Ma Brandy had left through. “That’s exactly what she does!”

That was a fair point and it made Frostfire mad that he agreed… sort of. “That doesn’t sound like you’re going on holiday.”

The wolf let out a snort. “For me it is. I get to take a holiday from the monster I had become.” He headed towards the door. “I’ll find the guest bedroom. See you in the morning.”

Frostfire watched the wolf go. He couldn’t understand why someone with all the power in the world wouldn’t fix the very real problem in front of him with a snap of his fingers. All he saw from Jacob Reaper was an unbelievable level of selfishness.

It made him sick.

Sick and angry.

❖

* * * * *

Morning came far too soon.

Frostfire roused from his simple queen mattress with plain white sheets and two pillows stacked upon one another. His mostly empty bedroom still looked like he had just moved in and lacked the funds to purchase any personalized furniture. Just a dresser to the side to contain his clothes, a sealed trunk at the base of his bed and a bedside table for his lamp that doubled as a charger for his phone. He checked his phone and, barring the usual feeds from his Legion-exclusive social media application, there was nothing else surprising for him.

He got up, rubbing his hair and trying to recall what was on his agenda for the current day. The conversations from the previous day loomed over his mind and immediately dampened his mood.

With a soft growl to himself, he grabbed some fresh clothing and entered his master bedroom’s dicated bathroom. The shower was loud enough that he was sure it would have woken up Reaper but at the moment, he didn’t quite care. The selfish wolf with his high concept problems could stand to wake up to the real world. People were suffering on the ground and he was too busy with his depression to understand they needed help.

The problem was…

“… how am I going to help them?”

Ma Brandy had them in a vice. Without a full assessment of her capabilities, they were running in the dark. The threats she made could just be a bluff but at the same time, it could all be real. The very thought that he would be responsible for turning an entire town into her ‘Boys’ made his stomach turn. Not only would he earn significant demerits for that but he would likely be kicked out of the Legion.

What made it worse was that he couldn’t contact the Legion. One of her conditions. Perhaps she would allow him to check the Legion databases but if those were out of date, he couldn’t ask any official to give him the most updated data.

“Maybe I can call some heroes in Illinois,” he mused. “Get them to give me the latest on her.” Then he shook his head, rejecting the idea. “No… if they knew about what her powers did to women, they would have updated that. It’s too crucial not to have in the data.”

The warm, running water did not help him. By the time he extracted himself from the stall and dryied himself with the full-body dryer, his mind was still racing. It took him about fifteen minutes to finish brushing himself down and sweeping the discarded pile of brown fur into a bin. After all that, he came to the conclusion that the only way out of this situation was sleeping in his guest bedroom. It pained him to go to Reaper for help but he could not see any other way out of the situation.

Once he was dressed, he moved towards the bedroom next to his and knocked.

“Reaper? You up?” he asked.

No response.

“Come on, man,” he sighed. “I know we said some shit last night.” He knocked again and again, there wasn’t an answer. “Don’t be so childish. Stop giving me the silent treatment.” He tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. When he pushed it open, he was even more surprised at what awaited him.

In the middle of the otherwise empty room was an enormous, bright green cube of what he could only consider to be lime gelatin. It was large enough to take up a quarter of the room and was positioned in such a way that it would have been impossible to see it from any of the windows. Within the cube, naked and with his eyes shut, was Jacob Reaper.

Frostfire immediately went into hero mode.

He charged, bursts of flame launching from the soles of his feet for a little extra propulsion. Fangs bared, the grizzly surged forward and thrust his paw right into the cube without thinking. There was little resistance as he plunged his arm up to the shoulder into the jiggling mass and grabbed Reaper’s paw. A surge of relief washed over him as the wolf’s eyes fluttered open. Every second counted and he wasn’t sure what effect the cube would have on his body so he immediately yanked back with all of his strength and pulled Reaper right out of the cube. Instincts took over as he and the wolf launched into the air. He wrapped his arms around Reaper’s form protectively while he kept his eyes locked on the cube for any form of retaliation. His back hit the ground with a soft whump but he ignored any pain, holding his charge tightly.

Strangely, the cube didn’t react.

“So is this turn-down service for free or am I going to have to pay for the pleasure?”

He glanced down at Reaper who had his muzzle buried right between the grizzly’s pectorals but peering up at him with a half-lidded, expectant stare.

“You’re joking now?” he growled. “You were almost digested by… by…”

“My bed?”

Frostfire frowned. “Your… what?”

Reaper prised himself away from Frostfire, standing in his full height and placing his paws on his hips. With one paw, he gestured at the cube of green goo behind him. “That’s a queen-sized Omnisomnia Ultra Deluxe Sleep Cube complete with reactive temperature control and hypoallergenic, self cleaning, moisturizing, conditioning gel made for furs with brittle fur or fur that frizzes out in humidity.” He regarded his paw, flipping it back and forth. “I suppose it was about time I got out anyway. Feels like I was just in the rinse cycle.”

“It’s a shower too?” Frostfire exclaimed.

“More like a bathtub. The reality that invented it simultaneously got rid of bathtub causalities while offering people a place to sleep that offers full-body comfort and cleanses you of the day’s impurities.” He lifted a finger into the air and shut his eyes like he was offering a lecture. “For guys who generally don’t have a lengthy pre-bed routine, it’s the best way to keep your body relaxed, hydrated and clean. A lot of damage to your skin and fur occurs during the night, you know.”

Frostfire rose from where he was resting, looking incredulously at the giant blob of goo in his room. “Were you going to warn me you were going to sleep in a giant cube in my house?”

“Were you going to believe me?” Reaper snapped back. “Besides, after everything that happened yesterday, I needed a little bit of a cleanse. I mean, my fur feels absolutely gorgeous! Here, smell.” He held out his wrist to Frostfire who gave him a weary look. Still, the bear leaned forward and gave his fur a little sniff.

“Huh… Lime?”

“Great, right?” Jacob said, beaming brightly. “I’m quite partial to the lavender version too. Not so much the citrus one. Which is weird because I like the lime.” The wolf shrugged and turned back towards the bed. “You should try it. There’s just no rest than one where you’re suspended in warm goo. Especially if you sleep on your stomach or sides.” He glanced over to Frostfire. “For big guys like us, sleeping on our sides can be painful without the right bed. I used to constantly find myself waking up in the middle of the night because my weight would actually cause my arm to fall asleep and then my body would wake me up with a nightmare just so I would roll over and get blood pumping into it again.”

Frostfire tilted his head to the side. “Sleep with a body pillow. It helps.”

“Tried that. Didn’t work.” Reaper hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “The gel helps. You should try it sometime.”

The bear eyed the cube warily. “How do you breathe?”

“It’s fully oxygenated.” Reaper then tilted his head slightly. “Were… Were you worried about me?”

Feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his cheeks, Frostfire gestured towards the so-called ‘bed’ in frustration. “I thought you were being eaten by a gelatinous cube!”

There was a glint in the wolf’s dark eyes. “Is that a DnD reference?”

Frostfire’s lips twisted and he turned around in frustration. “Whatever. You’re not dead. Great. Put on some clothes and let’s figure out what we’re going to do about Ma Brandy. And don’t drag goo on my carpet!”

He stormed angrily through his house, frustrated that his attempt at heroics had been futile. Part of him wondered what would have happened if he just let Reaper drown in that cube. There was even a part that quietly hoped that it had been a gelatinous cube so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality-bending madman. Then he pushed all of that down and cast it aside. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a hero.

Entering his kitchen, he grabbed some instant coffee from where it rested in a cupboard, poured the contents into a mug and started boiling some water in a kettle.

“Is that hot chocolate?” Reaper asked, emerging a moment later, fully dressed. He was wearing a casual red-orange shirt that had the texture of autumn leaves across its frame. The fabric was designed in such a way depending on how the light hit it, the outline of the leaves would be highlighted. A pair of denim shorts with frayed edges covered his legs.

“Coffee.”

Reaper scrunched up his nose a little. “Coffee? You’re not filtering the coffee grounds in anything?”

“What? No. I don’t have time for that. Just pour water in it and it’ll be coffee.”

Reaper looked utterly perplexed. Then his eyes began to rove around the kitchen. “Dude… Do you even have any fresh food in here? Where’s your refrigerator?”

“Don’t need one.” He kicked the drawer he was sitting next to with the heel of his foot, causing it to pop open and reveal the rows upon rows of ready to eat protein bars. “I just need these. Grab one. Just one though. It’ll last you until about lunch. Any more than that and it’ll feel like you have a rock in your stomach.”

Reaper peered into the cupboard, eyebrows raised and a look of disbelief on his muzzle. “When was the last time you cooked?”

“I. Don’t. Have. Time,” Frostfire repeated.

“Bullshit.” The wolf straightened and stared at him in worry. “You pretty much admitted it yourself. Nothing happens in Barewillow Creek. You’re keeping yourself busy to keep your mind off the shitty assignment.” Glancing about, he said, “And I’m willing to wager you keep your home bare and unfurnished to try and tell yourself that this is a temporary assignment. That, any day now, you’ll get up and leave.”

“Hey, I’m not the one that’s out here to keep himself from having a mental breakdown.”

Reaper waved a limp wrist at him. “Oh honey, you’re an eternity of lifetimes too late for that. I’m here because I’m burnt out.” He tilted his head. “I think. I still haven’t quite figured that out yet.” Then he clapped his paws together. “But I am going to make us a decent breakfast.”

Frostfire grabbed his arm. “No. You’re not. We’re on a tight schedule, Reaper. We have to deal with Ma Brandy.”

“How, exactly?” countered the wolf, pulling his arm away. “Got some plan to wiggle out of the vice-like grip she’s got around your balls? And don’t say you’ll get me to just wave my paws and make things ‘just work’.”

The bear rolled his eyes as the kettle clicked indicating that the water was boiled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You don’t want to be as bad as her. I get it.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

He poured some of the water into his mug, watching the dehydrated granules of coffee dissolve into the water. “Yeah. I do. She messes with people and makes them into her ideal ‘son’. If you just went back in time and or flicked a switch in her head to make her a hero again, you’d be doing exactly the same thing. She might be better off but it’s not her choice. She didn’t work to that ending. You just gave it to her.”

Frostfire took a sip from the mug, slightly grimacing at the bitter and yet watery taste. “I get it.”

Reaper was silent for a moment. Then he padded over and tapped the side of the mug lightly. The brew in the bear’s paws suddenly changed. It became an almost caramel color and the odor completely changed. There were hints of hazelnut, caramel and something… floral.

“What did you do?” he accused.

“Just take a sip, Sparkles,” Reaper said, moving towards stove. “Then sit your ass down. I’m making us waffles.”

“I told you. I don’t have time to wait around and eat breakfast. The whole town is at risk!”

Jacob snorted. “Even Ma Brandy has to eat breakfast. And if she’s getting drunk at this time of day, she’s got more problems than her grudge against the Legion and postpartum depression.”

Frostfire brought the mug to his lips, readying a quip when he took a sip and his knees almost buckled in ecstasy. The coffee was creamy, mellow and led with a strong punch of caramel before gently fading into the hazelnut taste and then into a sweet, flowery taste that he could not identify. All throughout, there was that undertone of coffee that seemed to set the pace of the symphony of flavors.

“Oh shit…” he huffed. “This is good.”

“It’s a mix from this steampunk universe I had to trudge through for a bit,” Reaper said, waving his paw and conjuring a metal bowl. Eggs, flour, milk and other ingredients appeared shortly afterward. Despite all his power, he began making the waffles by hand. “I was helping this one duchess and throughout her entire tale, there was this undertone of political and mercantile intrigue. Her house was ruined because of some missteps by her father and older brother who were killed in some war. She was left to look after her crumbling organization. Forced to sell off a lot of her assets until all she had was a single coffee field. She asked for help and I answered. Gave her some inspiration and she made her own coffee making empire.”

Reaper worked quickly, whisking the egg whites by hand, making the batter and then folding the two together. A waffle iron was produced and as he was cooking the first batch, he was frying some eggs and bacon. Nothing was floating or magically doing the work for him. He conjured the ingredients but did all the work with a methodical, practiced motion. He had done this a million times before.

And that was where Frostfire thought he saw the problem.

“You’ve done this a lot, huh?” he asked.

“What?” Reaper said, over his shoulder with a smile. “Make waffles while regaling someone I barely know about the story of Queen Blanche Latte the Bitter Blade of Ventueo?” He waggled his blond eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah, she was also a vigilante at night that was brutal with her rapier.”

“No,” Frostfire said, gesturing at the waffles. “You’ve made these waffles like that a lot.”

Reaper glanced over at the waffle iron. “I mean, yeah. They’re good waffles.”

“And you serve them with eggs and bacon all the time?”

“It seemed fitting for breakfast. If you’d prefer chicken and waffles…”

Frostfire shook his head. “I was watching you make them. Every movement was perfect. Methodical. Optimal. Like you’d done this so many times before.”

Reaper smirked at him. “Well, nice to hear you admit that you’ve been watching me. Besides, if you’ve lived as long as I have and can’t make a decent waffle, then you’ve wasted an eternity.”

The bear frowned a little, trying to formulate his words. “When did you decide to tell me that story about Queen Blanche Latte?”

“About when I realized that you have shitty taste in coffee.” Reaper’s answer was confident… then he immediately frowned as a realization dawned upon him. “Oh.” He folded his arms, frowning a little. “Fuck me…”

Frostfire leaned forward a little as he sat on the kitchen counter. “Guess you’re so used to thinking three steps ahead that it’s bled into your everyday life. Kind of sucks the fun out of spontaneity.” He toasted to Reaper a little. “Admit it. You purposefully used that goddamn jelly bed specifically because you know I’d freak out and try to save you.”

Reaper threw him a foul stare. “Are you still angry about that?”

“Not angry. Just pissy.”

The wolf growled a little as he turned around and flipped over the waffle iron. “Alright smart guy. I’ll throw away the millions of ways I had thought of dealing with Ma Brandy. How do you think we should deal with her?”

Frostfire sincerely doubted Reaper had thought of a million different ways to defeat Ma Brandy. Maybe a thousand but not a million. “How could I ever compare to the great ‘Writer of Reality’ who thought of a million ways to defeat my F-rank villain,” he said, rolling his eyes while fighting back a smirk. “All I could do was think of two possible ways.”

Jacob turned around, a plate of freshly made waffles with bacon on the side and two sunny side eggs on top. He set them in front of Frostfire. “Let’s hear them,” he said before turning to make his own meal.

The bear poked one egg yolk. Perfectly running. Gorgeously golden. It was uncanny just how picturesque it was. It had never occurred to him that making perfect waffles all the time might get boring… until now. He watched Reaper making his own batch and could see the… emptiness in his movements. Like he was just a machine going through the motions. Almost like he had switched off.

“It was all based on whether or not we use your powers,” Frostfire admitted, reaching down and cutting himself a slice of bacon, egg and waffle. He brought it to his lips and practically melted. The bacon was somehow not greasy at all and had the perfect level of bite and crunch that was a perfect accompaniment to the fluffy waffles and creamy eggs.

“I’m never going back to not having breakfast again,” he whispered to himself.

“Huh?” Reaper said, ears perked. “Sorry, didn’t catch that. Did you say we’d get her drunk on breakfast again?” He glanced over his shoulder, looking genuinely concerned. “She’s done that before? Is that how she got pregnant?”

There was no mockery in his voice. He genuinely hadn’t heard him.

“No,” Frostfire grunted, savoring the taste on his tongue. “First scenario was not to use your powers. She wants something from Barewillow Creek. No matter what happens, she will have the Legion come down on her. We let her Boys go and she leaves the town alone but then we report her and the Legion will know something. They’ll start investigating and her operation in Illinois is in jeopardy.” He swung his fork from left to right. “On the other hand, if we don’t do as she says and she turns all of Barewillow Creek, she’d still have the Legion on her. Same thing happens.”

Reaper grunted. “I see. You’d likely be kicked out of the Legion or get severely punished but she’s putting herself at risk as well. Given her intelligence, she would likely understand that while she is forcing you between a rock and a hard place, she is simultaneously putting herself at risk.” The wolf nodded. “Good observation. In that scenario, what’s the plan?”

“We try to figure out what she wants,” Frostfire responded. “It can’t just be her Boys’ freedom. It would have been more efficient to break them free. Get one of her other superpowered Boys to break them out of jail instead of coming up to us and threatening us. We just need to figure out what it is she ultimately wants from us.”

Reaper was silent for a moment and Frostfire thought he saw the wolf’s eyes narrow briefly. “And the second scenario? Where we use my powers?”

Frostfire shrugged. “That’d be up to you on what you want to do. Since you said you don’t want to rewrite her story, maybe it’s just a matter of using what we have and turning it on her. I know you don’t want to expose yourself to the Legion so we have to do something that would neutralize her while keeping things from them.” Again, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you could turn all the booze in Barewillow into water…?”

Plucking his own meal from the stove and waffle iron, Reaper turned around and sat opposite to Frostfire. “Apart from the fact that pulling a ‘Reverse Jesus’ is objectively hilarious but cliched against a booze-based villain, that risks her unleashing whatever Boys she’s got in reserve in retaliation.” He munched on a mouthful of waffles for a moment thoughtfully. “You mentioned that she has to expend the alcohol in her own system to ‘infect’ any alcohol to prime it for consumption. If I turn every drop of booze in town into water, the moment she tries to corrupt a bottle, she’s going to know. Not to mention, she probably has a stash on her for just an occasion. I could be more specific with my targeting but that’d still open us up to more scrutiny from the Legion.”

Frostfire’s broad shoulders deflated. Those ideas had been haphazardly put together this morning but he still though they were decent. At least a good foundation. “And what’s your idea, then?”

Reaper gave him a lopsided smile. “I don’t know. I threw them away, remember?” Then his smile faded. “But you did bring up a good point. What is Ma Brandy after? Why confront you like that?” He poked his eggs absently. “I think I have the answer to that.”

“Really? What’s her end game them?”

That was when Reaper lifted his fork, dripping with yolk, and pointed it straight at Frostfire.

“You.”

❖

* * * * *

Frostfire reeled a little at the accusation, staring at the wolf across from him with a blank look. For a few moments, he tried to process the last few minutes again, rerunning the events through his mind and trying to see how Reaper had come to the conclusion that he was the object of Ma Brandy’s assault on this sleepy town. No matter how often he replayed the conversation, though, he couldn’t understand why anyone would make him the crux of their diabolical plan.

“Walk me through how you arrived at that ridiculous notion,” he stated bluntly.

The blond-haired wolf munched on a waffle before answering. “It’s like you said, we have to ask why she took the time to come up to you and actually threaten you in person. Someone as smart as her could have easily passed off this group of the Brandy Boys as a scouting team or a rogue cell. But she broke into your house, confronted you and basically confirmed her presence here. Why?”

“Common villainy?”

There was a moment where Reaper’s eyes narrowed briefly. It passed as quickly as it came but Frostfire had noticed.

“Maybe,” said the wolf. “But I choose to believe that people are more than the one- dimensional caricatures that we, as observers, would see them as.” He threw the bear a smirk. “I mean, you’re more than the grouchy, brooding, lonely superhero that has a tragic past that’s desperately trying to claw his way back into the Legion’s good graces by turning in the potentially walking apocalypse that is my mentally broken and emotionally crippled ass, right?”

Frostfire didn’t answer and didn’t let anything show on his face… even though the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

That smirk on Reaper’s face faded. “I was always a proponent of a simple adage that I inherited from my creator. Your writing. Your work. Your way. I took that to mean that every person is worthy of their own story. They are the protagonist of their own tale.” He lowered his fork for a moment. “As much as hate where I am now, I’m not going to compromise my values. I still believe that everyone has a story in them. Even Ma Brandy.”

It was an admirable statement but one that Frostfire would have expected from bright-eyed, naive initiates that had just discovered their superpowers and had just received the notification that they would be whisked away to undergo superhero training. Certainly not from a supposed eternal extradimensional entity.

“Does it really matter what her past is?” he asked bluntly. “What she thinks or feels? All that matters is what she’s done. She’s practically killed people. You can’t abide by that.”

“Nor can I excuse it.” Reaper shook his head. “But to punish without meaning would only encourage and invite retribution.”

Frostfire pulled back and shook his head in confusion. “What?”

“If you just hit her with a generic punishment, even something as serious as death, she or someone aligned with her will just retaliate.” He made a few jabbing motions with his fork at his waffles. “You need to hand her a punishment that promotes growth.”

“You’re sounding awfully soft for a cosmic entity that’s supposed to be all-powerful.”

“And you’re sounding awfully cavalier about ending a life for being a superhero.”

The bear gripped his fork tightly, careful not to twist it. “People’s lives are at stake! How can you justify just letting someone like Ma Brandy go off on her own, transforming people and brainwashing them into her ‘sons’ without being punished?”

“I’m not saying we just let her go,” Reaper countered calmly. “I’m saying we inflict upon her a punishment that’s befitting the crime.” His gaze hardened as he locked gazes at Frostfire. “And no. I’m not talking about life in prison or even death. She’s ruined countless people’s lives. Made them do things they would never otherwise do. Rewrote them. She writes her story but in doing so, she has overwritten others. In my book, that is as heinous as it gets. The punishment I would inflict upon her would be soul-crushing.”

A chill ran down the grizzly’s spine. “Like what?”

Reaper shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought of it yet.” He waved his fork absently through the air. “But we’re getting off track. Ma Brandy did what she did for some rhyme and reason. I think it’s because she needs you.” He narrowed his gaze at Forstfire. “She mentioned briefly that she was hoping we would be allies. She seemed hesitant to convert us even for our powers.”

“She wanted people working with her that weren’t mindless like her Boys?”

“Maybe. Could be that surrounding herself with people who just agree with her would get boring or even debilitating. It’s one of the reasons I gathered a lot of people around me who challenge and often contradict me.”

Frostfire tilted his head to the side. “If you had that, then why are you here trying to get over your burnout?”

Reaper gave him a deadpan stare. “It’s because of them that I’m here. They’re the ones that convinced me to go on this journey of self-rediscovery despite my protests.” A small smile returned. “I suppose that just proves that they care about me. Something I’ve got going for me at least.”

“Fantastic,” growled the bear. “You’re loved. How does that help us against Ma Brandy?”

The enigmatic wolf that had just cooked him a stellar breakfast began tapping his fork on the plate thoughtfully. “Does getting someone out of jail really take three days?”

Frostfire shook his head. “The Legion basically gives me free reign in my jurisdiction. If I want to let her boys go, they’ll audit me later but I could just go downtown to the sheriff’s office and ask them to release them and they’ll be out. Why?”

“She gave us three days. Mentioned something about knowing Legion paperwork. Why?”

The young ursine superhero glanced down at his empty plate, momentarily surprised by how quickly he had eaten the meal. Then, as he brought his mind back to the question at hand, he did find it odd that she would give them such a long time. Three days was more than enough time to release a prisoner.

“She expects something from us, doesn’t she?” he rumbled. “Time to set up a plan.”

“I was just thinking that,” agreed Reaper. “It’s pretty typical, right? The heroes are given a time limit and they fret for every second of that limit until the very last moment where they are hit with inspiration to do something that will completely defeat the villain.”

Frostfire glanced over to the empty space where his refrigerator should have been. “If you weren’t here making me doubt myself, I would use every second of those three days looking for a solution. But the Legion would get wind of me apprehending some of her Boys. They’ll come to investigate and maybe take them off my hands.” His cool, blue eyes turned back to Jacob. “That’s what she’s after. She wants the Legion to come here.”

Reaper straightened, eyes narrowing slightly. “Right. She’s after allies. She wants to break free of the Legion’s collar around her neck. But there’s nothing stopping the media from leaking news about her Boys being captured and she could have given you three days knowing full well the Legion would send someone within that time. She told you not to contact them knowing full well that they will send someone anyway.”

“So what? Is this some long, protracted, complicated suicide note?” Frostfire asked, shaking his head in frustration. “Why would she do this?” He slammed a fist into the table. “What does she want?”

The wolf’s dark eyes was locked on his fist. “Were you holding back just then?”

Frostfire regarded the marble countertop and pulled his paw away, grimacing at the cracks on the surface. “Fuck…”

Reaper tapped the counter with a claw and the cracks immediately vanished. “Do superheroes in this world have higher than average strength and endurance than other people? Is that a measure of detecting if someone has powers?”

The grizzly regarded Reaper and had to remind himself that this supposed cosmic entity didn’t know everything and came from somewhere else. “No. Unless you were born with a superpower that makes you stronger than the normal, you wouldn’t be any stronger than usual.” He massaged his paw. “But doesn’t mean you can’t become that strong. Training, diet, exercise. All that.”

“Huh,” came the pensive response. “So people here get to where they are not just by the merit of their birth. They earn it. Their paths are dictated by their choices.”

The bear waited as the wolf mused on those thoughts for a moment, expecting another self-pitying tirade about how even with all of his near-divine powers, he was flawed and there was no way Frostfire could under stand him. Another excuse not to use all the abilities he possessed to resolve the very issue that they found themselves in.

“So that means that the natural progression of one’s powers and abilities can be tracked based on one’s choices.” Reaper got up from his seat and picked up their empty plates, bringing them to the kitchen sink while his brow was furrowed. “In this world, is it possible for individuals with superpowers to ‘evolve’ their abilities?”

Surprised by the line of questioning, Frostfire answered in the positive. It was one of the many techniques and skills that was developed in the many training grounds and academies all over the world. A hero could not remain stagnant. Their abilities and powers were widely advertised and ingenious villains or hostile organizations could use any weakness to their advantage. It was critical that heroes keep growing or at least have some form of flexibility.

“So it is entirely possible that Ma Brandy could have developed her powers into something else,” Reaper continued. “Given that she has spent a long time outside of the Legion’s influence, the change in perspective could have skewed her developmental path in that direction. A path that would have guided her to avoiding and perhaps even defeating the Legion.”

Frostfire tilted his head curiously. “What are you saying?”

Reaper set down the dirty dishes and then turned towards him, leaning casually against the sink. “If Ma Brandy were to remain with the Legion, her powers would naturally evolve and develop on the path of protecting people. She could suppress the more…” He grimaced. “… freewill-reducing aspects of her powers and focus more on causing inebriation or even a modicum of mind control. Something more defensive or geared towards submission than offensive and destructive. Based on that, we can infer the path of development for her powers.”

“That makes sense. But we’re just speculating. We have no proof.”

“No,” agreed Reaper, holding up four fingers. “But if we can guess where her powers are now, we might be able to guess at her motivations. To that, I think there are four distinct possibilities on where she’s pushed her powers.”

Frostfire held up one finger. “I can guess at one.” Seeing Reaper’s lifted eyebrow, he said, “That she’s pushed her powers to being able to infect more than just alcohol. All forms of drinkable liquid are within her domain now.”

The wolf smiled at him and nodded. “I agree. Though I suspect that if she was that powerful, she wouldn’t be waiting on the theatrics that she pulled off right now.”

Recalling what he read in the files about Ma Brandy, Frostfire said, “The Legion was trying to get her to turn water into alcohol… Could be that is where she went.”

“Maybe.”

“But seeing how much she hates the Legion, I think it wouldn’t sit well with her to use that kind of power.”

Again, Reaper nodded, now only holding up to fingers. “My thinking exactly. Which leads to two theoretical possibilities.”

Frostfire shook his head. “And what are those? Can’t think of anything else.”

“Aerosol,” responded Reaper. “Alcohol can be vaporised to a degree and it is entirely possible that she had gained enough control over her abilities that she can extend them to evaporated alcohol. The problem with that possibility is that it’s basically useless against a light gust of wind. Which leads me to the only other possibility I can think of: sleeper agents. Casting her ability on people and keeping them enthralled while not transforming them physically to act as spies for her.”

The bear pulled his head back in surprise. “You’re kidding me.”

Reaper shrugged. “That or somehow creating constructs made out of booze.” He pushed off the kitchen and straightened. “Either way, I think the sleeper agents angle makes the most sense. From what you’ve told me, she’s not one of those bombastic villains that goes around causing widespread havoc for the sake of it. She keeps her head down. Builds her network and strikes out at targets of opportunity. That would shape her development and keeping secret agents around makes the most sense.”

Frostfire frowned deeply and looked down at his paws. “And you think that’s what she’s hoping to get out of us. Make us her agents. Either willingly or no.”

“Right. She’s holding the whole town hostage. Bet she’ll try to get us to drink one of her infected brews and threaten us with the possibility of activating it while making us do whatever she wants.”

A classic tactic. The alcohol in their veins would be the impetus to follow their orders. Any deviation could lead to the complete loss of their identities. Bad enough that Barewillow Creek was under threat but that would be the leash that would tighten gradually around their throats.

“So what do we do?” Frostfire asked. “There’s no way out of this unless…”

Reaper shook his head. “I’m not going to snap my fingers and just make things better.”

The bear pounced to his feet and slammed his paws onto the counter top. “Damnit, Reaper! People’s lives are at stake here! Just because you can’t find the ‘fun’ in saving them, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t!”

The black-furred wolf’s dark-blue eyes pierced through Frostfire’s heart like a laser even as he was given a sardonic smile. “If you think I’m that shallow, then I really must be at a pathetic state.” Shaking his head, Reaper said, “No. The reason I’m not going to just warp reality to negate everything and make some silver bullet to defeat her is because I have to consider the possibility that she’s right.”

“What!?” exclaimed Frostfire. “How can someone that’s robbing others of their lives and making them love her be ‘right’?”

“How she’s doing it isn’t right but perhaps her message behind it is,” answered Reaper darkly. “There have been far too many epic tales that have started with a simple side-villain actually being the precursor to something bigger.” Waving a paw absently at Frostfire, Reaper said, “Seen from another perspective, you could argue that what the Legion did to you is similar to what she’s doing. You were robbed of everything you were before you became ‘Frostfire’. You’re miserable. You’re lonely. You’re just Frostfire. I mean, you don’t even have a fridge. How could an organization as vast and powerful as the Legion condone such a state of living? How could they be so crass as to treat Ma Brandy as a baby-pumping machine after she experienced the joys of childbirth only to have that very child reduce to booze in front of her?”

Reaper shook his head once more, straightening. “No. I can’t just discount what she’s gone through.”

“If you’re suggesting that the Legion is evil…”

The wolf rolled his eyes and snorted. “I’m not here to pass judgment on anyone. I’ve been dragged into this conflict with Ma Brandy. I can’t just turn my back on that. But I need to consider her perspective as well and I just can’t go back and remove all her suffering. What she has gone through, how she got here, is all part of her story. The worst thing anyone can do is rewrite anyone’s story.” He sneered more to himself than anyone else. “And I hate rewrites.”

Frostfire slumped back into his seat. “So what do we do then? What’s your big plan?”

Reaper crossed his arms. “Honestly? I say we give her what she wants. Let’s free her Boys. Today.”

❖

* * * * *

Ma Brandy sat on a throne made entirely out of scrap metal in the middle of her ‘court’. Under what had once been a grocery store, she and her boys had created a sort of speakeasy cabaret. The bar was fully stocked and the bartender, naturally one of her Boys, was absently cleaning the glasses. Tables were arranged all over the floor in front of the stage where she stood.

Hot spotlights were aimed at her. They followed her as she gracefully stood and sauntered over to the lone microphone stand. With a delicate, gloved paw, she curled her fingers around the microphone and took a breath. The jazzy tune began; the saxophone began and the beat being kicked up by the cymbals. Drums jammed in every now and then. Her hips were swinging with each beat.

Thirty seconds into the intro, she began singing.

“Of all the boys I’ve know, and I’ve known some,” she sang in a sultry tune halfway between speaking and singing. “Until I first met you, I was lonesome. And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light.”

Her boys hooted and hollered, cheering for her as her swings and sways grew more and more exaggerated and the music flowed through her. “And this old world seemed new to me.”

Ma Brandy pointed out into the crowd, not sure exactly who she was pointing at but knowing full well it was one of her Boys. Who else would be out there?

“You’re really swell, I have to admit you. Deserve expressions that really fit you.”

She plucked the microphone from the stand.

“And so I’ve racked my brain, hoping to explain. All the things that you do to me.”

Just for emphasis, she pushed away the microphone stand, letting it topple over. Some of her Boys eagerly caught it and she looked down apologetically at them.

“Bei mir bist do schoen, please let me explain,” she sang_. “Bei mir bist do schoen means you’re grand.”_

Kneeling down towards her Boys, she blew them a kiss. “Bei mir bist do schoen, again I’ll explain. It means you’re the fairest in the land.”

As she rose, her eyes caught sight of someone that stood out amidst he sea of mutts and brutes. A large grizzly dressed in deep blue spandex with fiery red circuits running through his body, emphasizing his immense musculature. Beside him was wolf with black fur and blond hair dressed in a long, blue trench coat that matched his dark-blue eyes.

She didn’t let that interrupt her beat, however.

“I could say ‘Bella, bella’, even ‘sehr wunderbar’.” She turned her back to the crowd and the invading heroes just to taunt them. Then, throwing her head over her shoulder and eying them directly, she said, “Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are.”

None of her Boys saw the heroes. They stood off to the back after all. Clever. How they had found her would need to wait for later. She had to finish her song.

“I’ve tried to explain,” she continued. “Bei mir bist do schoen. So kiss me…” She blew a kiss off to the back of the room. “… and say you understand.”

Seeing neither of the Legion’s cookie cutter heroes react, she flung around, sweeping her arm around her. “Be mir bist du schoen, you’ve heard it all before. But let me explain.” She strode towards the edge of the stage, reaching out towards Frostfire in particular. “Bei mir bist du schoen, means that you’re grand. Bei mir bist du schoen, it’s such an old refrain.”

She curled her fingers towards herself, beckoning the two to come closer. Getting her meaning, one of the spotlights veered away from her and angled towards the two in the back. The Boys in the crowd turned, some sneering, some growling but none moving as the heroes were revealed.

“And yet I should explain…” she cooed, once again blowing a kiss. “… it means I am begging for your hand.”

It looked like Reaper, the Lobstermancer, gently pushed Frostfire forward and the two began making their way down towards the stage. This made Ma Brandy smirk.

“I could say bella, bella,” she sang, taking a few steps back while keeping her eyes on the two. “Even sehr wunderbar! Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are.”

The instrumentals kicked in with an upbeat saxophone solo. She swayed to the tune while seceding some space on the stage for the two heroes. A confident smile remained on her lips as the large, burly bear and his lupine sidekick stepped onto the stage. Frostfire was clearly tense. Reaper, however, had this calmness to him that unnerved her a little.

“I could say, ‘bella, bella’ even sehr wunderbar,” she concluded, reaching the final verse. “Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are.” For the briefest of moments, she turned to the crowd, towards her Boys. One of her Boys came onto the stage from her side, away from the spotlight holding a margarita glass which she slyly picked up in one, smooth movement. “I’ve tried to explain bei mir bist du cheon.” She lifted the glass, toasting to the audience. “So kiss me…”

Ma Brandy brought the drink to her lips.

“… and say that you will understand.”

Then she drained the entire glass, being sure not to catch her gulp in the microphone’s range. Her Boys broke out into applause as they always did. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Frostfire and Reaper. Neither moved though the bear did seem all the more tense.

The spotlights faded and the house lights sprang on, illuminating the entire cabaret as the applause died down. Ma Brandy dropped the glass in her gloved paws. One of her Boys caught it before it shattered onto the stage. A perfectly oiled machine. She turned fully towards the two heroes, placing her now free paw onto her hip.

“I will be frank,” she admitted, eyes upon Reaper. “You look far more dashing as opposed to that ridiculous attire you wore the first time you made your debut upon the world stage.”

Reaper shrugged, lifting his paws covered in fingerless riding gloves into the air in a helpless gesture. “I call this getup ‘Reaper Classic’.”

She ignored the statement and turned her gaze towards Frostfire. “I had not expected either of you to be the type to surrender so willingly.” She flicked the pink boa around her neck over a shoulder. “I assume the reason you found my little hideaway was because you released my Boys and followed them here.”

“How astute,” growled Frostfire. “For the record, we’re not here to surrender. Just figured you wouldn’t expect us to act so soon.”

An accurate assessment. She knew the Legion’s play book. Three days was the average time it would take for a standard hero - especially one as low ranking as Frostfire - to fret over his next action. One day to get over the shock of the situation and to gage his next actions. Another to possibly contact the Legion or consult with others. The last to actually perform those actions. To act less than twenty-four hours after the initial encounter… that was bold.

A smirk touched her lips. “You are correct. But now I am left wondering…” One of her supple, gloved fingers hovered over her lips. “… where does this leave you? You have given me exactly what I wanted and now even took the extra step to place yourself in my domain. What exactly did you hope to accomplish with this act of foolish bravado?”

Crimson flames erupted from Frostfire’s paws, staining the fur around the flames black. “You know exactly where this is going.”

She threw her head back and laughed. The melodious sound was accompanied by the noise of chairs scraping across the ground and the shuffling of her Boys rising to their feet. “You’re surrounded by my Boys. You are vastly outnumbered. Do you honestly think that you, a Rank F hero, are equipped to deal with me knowing what you know?”

The grizzly lifted his paws into a boxing stance. “I have to try.”

Ma Brandy had seen such acts before. All the lessons, all the recordings and all the texts had ingrained everything that Frostfire was doing into her brain. Everything he did was by the book. Predictable. Her eyes drifted to the hero’s sidekick, however, the blue-clad Lobstermancer. It was the wolf that he found intriguing.

“And what about you?” she cooed, gesturing with her microphone at the lupine. “What exactly are your intentions? Do you intend to die here with your hero?”

Jacob lifted one eyebrow as he examining Ma Brandy. “Are we talking about total physical death or identity death?” His dark blue eyes switched to the horde of Brandy Boys that were slowly approaching the stage. Many of them were wielding crude weapons like pipes, bats and spiked knuckles. A few he detected were brandishing some form of superpower, readying them for use. “Because from what I see, you’re incapable of achieving both.”

There was a moment of quiet from Ma Brandy. “You don’t think I’m capable of killing you?”

“No,” he responded bluntly. “Either because you would consider seeing either of us dead as a waste or because the limits of your powers.” His eyes never left the approaching Brandy Boys. “I’m honestly curious. How many of your Boys actually remember their pasts lives?”

Ma Brandy let out another sharp laugh. “Why, all of them, of course. And they choose to be my sons because of it.”

“Exactly. So, on some level, their old selves still exist in there. They have just been convinced that this life under your thumb us much better. So you never killed their identities. Not really.” His tone lowered somberly for a moment as he considered the implications of such a statement compared to what he had been doing for most of his career as a No One.

“A bold statement,” Ma Brandy snorted haughtily, bringing him back from his musing. “Not that it will help you out of this situation.”

Only then did he turn his gaze back towards her. “Probably not. Which begs the question; what’s the trump card you have that would have turned the tide?” She didn’t respond though her smile did fade slightly. “My bet is that you’ve got a network of sleeper agents that you could unleash at any moment. A sort of kill switch that, the moment this instance of you perishes or is captured, they will ‘awaken’ and start infecting people all over the nation with your brand of brandy.”

“And what makes you think I would have something so complicated or even need it?” She made a sweeping gesture with her arms around her. “I have everything I want here.”

He tilted his head slightly, any trace of a smile on his muzzle fading. “The fact that you gambled a lot coming to Frostfire and threatened him. If you had just kept your head down, he might have called down the Legion upon Barewillow Creek but they are also just as likely to dismiss his claims. They were under the impression that you’re still in Illinois. Why go to the trouble of coming out to threaten him and tell him that you’ll just ‘forget’ anything happened if he releases your Boys knowing full well he couldn’t really do that on principle alone?

“That leads me to believe you’ve got something. Leverage that you could use to stall the Legion if they come knocking on your door.” He narrowed his gaze, fighting the urge to ‘switch on’ his eyes that would allow him to see every possibility. It was actually starting to hurt, a stinging pain scratching at the corners of his eyes as he fought back the temptation. “You might just be a clone or a single instance of Ma Brandy but I’m willing to wager that you’re not suicidal. You have a contingency plan and you’re ready to pull the trigger. You were just itching for a reason.”

“And why would I need a reason, darling?” she taunted.

“Because to you, the Legion is the bad guys. If you attacked unprovoked, you’d be be painting yourself truly as a villain. Not to the public. You don’t care what they say. It’s your own conscience. You need to justify your actions to yourself. Killing and converting everyone in Barewillow Creek won’t destroy the Legion. Not unless they struck first.”

Her smile faded completely and for the first time, she folded her arms around her waist; a defensive posture. “My, aren’t you the clever one. Are you sure you’re the sidekick here?”

Jacob snorted. “Trust me, I’ve spent more time as the sidekick than I have a protagonist. Might be one of my problems.” He straightened, squaring his shoulders. “So you might as well unveil your master plan because Sparkles here is itching to set this place ablaze and alcohol can be very flammable.”

Ma Brandy smirked and tapped her cheek. “Very well. Though before we do, you might want to take care of that, darling.”

Jacob frowned a little and reached up towards his cheek, feeling a wetness there. Was he crying? As he pulled his fingers away, the metallic twang of blood wafted into his nostrils. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing and he couldn’t help but ‘switch’ his gaze just to confirm his suspicions. The pupils of his dark-blue eyes transformed into an eight-pointed star, the edges of the star piercing his irises. The tension in his eyes immediately relaxed and the bleeding stopped.

“Ironic,” he rumbled to himself softly as he ‘turned off’ his eyes. “My body is so used to using my eyes that refusing to use it actually caused me harm… Like straining a muscle.” He wiped his cheeks with the heel of his paw. “Stupid weakness to have.”

Ma Brandy shrugged and took a few steps back. “You shouldn’t hold back, my dear. You are far out of your league here.” She lifted her free paw and snapped her fingers.

The sound of shattering glass erupted from the bar in the cabaret. Torrents of alcohol came pouring out of the taps and from the various liqueurs housed behind the bar. They rushed towards her in streams, swirling around her in a dizzying and mesmerizing display that she guided with her paws.

Jacob’s jaw dropped in surprise. “I’ll be damned… Booze Bending. Didn’t see that coming.” He felt Frostfire’s glance upon him and he met it with a shrug. “I genuinely didn’t.”

The flood of alcohol swept beneath Ma Brandy’s feet, lifting her off the ground and leaving her to tower over the rest of the stage. “You want to know my plan? Well here it is.” She gestured at the amber tide sloshing around beneath her. “The Legion’s perfection is their greatest strength and their greatest weakness. You both are nothing more than a lure. Whatever happens here, the Legion will come running. They will be forced to reassess Ma Brandy. They have no idea what I am capable of!”

A wild grin split across her face. “You were right, you know. They never knew what I could do to women with my powers. Originally, it would just kill them. Best case, send any girl who drank my booze into a coma. Under their tuition, I controlled it so they would have to drink my infected brew and I would need to activate my powers to trigger it. After years, I even managed enough control over it so that I could just send them into a coma without immediate death!”

On some level, the Legion was aware of the evolution of her powers. Likely extrapolated their data based on her time with them. However, without constant monitoring, they would likely would not have guessed that she had developed a means to turn women into her clones. Given her profile, it was very logical that her focus would be on men.

“But after I created my first copy, I realized something,” Ma Brandy continued. Her grin grew wider. “We share a consciousness.”

Any smile Jacob wore immediately faded. His mind raced at the possibilities. Ma Brandy not only created copies of herself but those copies were all connected like some booze-based hive mind. Just like adding extra processing power to a computer each instance only made her more and more powerful. Given time, her powers would only develop faster and faster.

She didn’t need a sleeper network. She was the network.

A quick glance at Frostfire showed that the ursine was just as surprised as he was.

Ma Brandy spread her arms wide. “So now you realize your bit part in this grand play! The Legion will attack, I will reveal my abilities to them. They will fight long and hard against this instance of Ma Brandy. No matter the outcome, more of me will awaken and make our moves across the country!” She flicker her boa around her neck and then pointed a gloved finger at them. “Now, let’s proceed to the second act, my darlings!”

Jacob spun, pressing his back against Frostfire’s. “I’ll keep the goons busy,” he exclaimed, flicking his paws through the air. Two bright red lobsters appeared in his paws in a flurry of iridescent red stars that emitted a faint scent of butter, lemon and herbs. “You take care of the diva of drunkenness.”

Frostfire grunted and surged forward, flames bursting from his paws.

This was just as several Brandy Boys came charging onto the stage. Jacob guided the two lobsters in his paws together and the two crustaceans immediately snapped their claws together. He swung the two through the air, letting out a high-pitched ‘wooooah’, brandishing the two like a pair of nunchucks. The Brandy Boys were momentarily stunned at the ridiculous display and he took that moment to attack.

Jacob rushed towards the first and closest Boy, slapping the man’s face with the seafood weapon. There was a satisfying crunch and wet slap that came from the contact. The impact unleashed an almost cartoonish burst of the same glistening stars for comedic effect and to show that the blow was more than a simple pre-cooked lobster to inflict. The Boy was sent sailing right off the stage, flying over his brothers and crashing into a table.

Momentum was key here. The amount of stunned surprise he could milk from his antics would have diminishing returns. So Jacob spun, swinging the weapon through the air and slamming it again against the flanks of another Boy. Another crunch and some ribs were instantly broken. The bulkier Boy fell to his knees and was thrown to the ground from the impact.

A third came rushing at him, swinging a lead pipe. Jacob immediately lifted the nunchucks to defend himself but the pipe came down and broke the weapon in two… if it wasn’t already made out of two lobsters that were just holding onto each other. The smirk of the Boy immediately vanished when Jacob thrust the two lobsters forward right at the man’s nipples and the lobsters snipped their claws hard on the sensitive spots.

“Yeeeeeeow!” cried the Boy leaping back, dropping his pipe and tugging at the lobsters that refused to let go.

Again, Ma Brandy’s Boys were caught in shock at the ridiculous sight. That gave him an opening as he threw lobsters into the crowd. One poor Boy took one to the face which immediately clamped its claws on his nose. Another had abrupt piercings on his floppy ears. A third tried to dodge out of the way only for the lobster to collide with his genitals.

Even Jacob had to wince at that one.

He produced one more lobster in his right paw, clutching it by its broad tail. With his other paw, he pressed two fingers against its spine and then ran it in a straight line away from the crustacean. A crimson blade, as thick as his wrist and with sharp, golden edges that shimmered like melted butter burst from the lobster’s head, following the line of his fingers. Bringing the blade beside his head, pointing forward, he placed one foot in front of the other and then held his free hand facing upward, forming a mimicry of a crab claw which his ‘pinched’ multiple times.

“I call this ‘Thermidor Style’,” he announced as molten butter dripped from the edges of his blade. “Hope you’re not allergic.”

A loud gurgling noise from behind him made his heart plummet.

“Reap - urblble!”

He turned his head and immediately dropped his stance. Frostfire was on the ground, a torrent of mixed alcohol pouring down his muzzle while his eyes were boggling in absolute horror. Ma Brandy hovered over him, suspended by a pillar of booze and grinning triumphantly. There were a few burns on her dress but she was ultimately triumphant.

“You are mine now, Owen!” she bellowed.

The tendril of alcohol pulled away from Frostfire and he looked towards Jacob with eyes wide, pleading.

“I…” coughed Frostfire. “I…” Then the bear clutched his head, gnashing his fangs together and squeezing his eyes shut. “I…”

Right before Jacob’s eyes, the brawny superhero’s features elongated and transformed. His short, broad muzzle lengthened into a slimmer canine shape. The rounded ears at the top of his ears lengthened into large, pointed, triangular points. His brown fur turned completely black with coppery brown on the underside of his muzzle. The grimace on his features twisted into a mad grin. He let out a roar, every bone and muscle in his body shifting to fit his new canine shape.

When Frostfire’s eyes sprang back open, they were glazed over with a maniacal glee.

“I love my Ma!” he declared, now a Doberman.

Jacob, tilted his head.

“Oh.”

Without warning, the entire scene just… vanished. Everything suddenly was white. No light, no shadow. Nothing but endless white. It took the Writer of Reality an entire minute to realize that he was no longer in Ma Brandy’s cabaret watching the intoxicated brute that Frostfire had become.

He was in his own realm. The realm of nothing and everything.

Naught.

He glanced about, wondering how he had gotten here.

“Hello?” he shouted. “Dad? Pops?”

No reply came.

“Grandpa?”

Still nothing but silence.

“Babe?”

When no reply came, he grimaced, ears folded behind his head.

“… Damon…?” Again, nothing and this time, he rolled his eyes and said. “Director…? Oh, sorry. I mean The Director?”

Again, nothing.

“What the…?” he wondered, scratching his cheek in confusion. “How am I here? Did… Did I…?” Looking at his paws, one of them still clutching the improvised lobster-themed blade. “… Did I inadvertently just bring myself to Naught? Out of reflex? Was I so traumatized that I just… retreated here?”

Jacob shook his head, placing his free paw against the side of his head. “Fuck… Am I so broken that watching Frostfire get transformed like that threw up some sort of defensive mechanism? This after I had played a hand in transforming others physically before…” He frowned at himself. “Though… I guess I never made them slip into quasi-identity death like that. Not really.”

The Writer of Reality shook his head and began pacing in the empty void of Naught, tapping the tip of his buttery blade on the ground.

“Alright, Reaper. Let’s figure this out. You’re now standing in the void between realities where time and space has no meaning. You have all the power in the universe at your fingertips. You can figure out a way to get Frostfire back without invalidating everything you’ve argued against.” He lifted a finger. “It’s not a question of if you should bring him back. You will. Your inaction led him to this. Your refusal to use your powers brought him to this conclusion. You have to fix it.”

A moment later… he let out a frustrate roar.

“And I have no idea how!” He ruffled his own hair in frustration. “Goddamnit… I’m so out of practice being a goddamn protagonist! So fucking used to letting other people make the decisions.” He doubled over like he had just been punched, eyes squeezed shut and claws digging into his temples. “I’m fucking paralyzed with indecision!”

Straightening, he glanced to his right and flicked a paw in that direction. The white void shifted and twisted, taking the shape of a cut out of the scene he had just left but frozen in time. There he was, standing on the stage looking dumbfounded like he just could not understand what he was seeing. A few yards away was Frostfire, now one of the Brandy Boys, grinning maniacally at him while Ma Brandy hovered over him triumphantly.

“Remember your Worldrider training,” he told himself. “Back to basics. What is your goal? How are you going to get to it? Who is stopping you and how will they stop you?” Then he glanced off to the left. “Wait… is that how it went?” Doubt crept into his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck!”

Looking back to the scene, he waved his sword like he was conducting an orchestra. “I could just snap my fingers. Reverse everything and ‘cure’ everyone there.”

The scene before played out as he dictated with a little bit of ‘Lobstermancer’ flair. The image of himself made some sassy quip and began flinging lobsters everywhere. The Brandy Boys they hit suddenly went rigid and then began tearing at their own skin. Their flesh peeled away with a sticky substance beneath much like butter and came off in hard blocks like a carapace. Beneath were their original forms.

Jacob grimaced at the sight and turned away, pausing the scene. Another base scene appeared a few feet away. “That became way to eldritch for my tastes. Also just proves how useless I am that I would resort to a deus ex machina out of universe like that. Wouldn’t solve my reservations either that I am effectively rewriting this entire reality just to suit my version of what is ‘good’.”

In the next scene, he fought Frostfire, swinging his Lobster Blade - his Lobxcalibur - and concluding the fight in an epic collision of powers as he matched up against both Ma Brandy and Frostfire. They would explode out of the underground cabaret, bring their battle to the ground floor. In the end, he would sneak in some moral about the free will of the individual, perhaps preying on the fact that Ma Brandy never erased the memories of what person they inflicted but just overwrote it with a version of themselves that adored her and the ‘gift’ she had bestowed upon them. However, a heartfelt plea to Frostfire and after a prolonged fight, Frostfire would fight back and with a little subtle manipulation on his part, he would shake off her control and revert back to his ursine form.

He scoffed at that and dismissed it.

“Sure, let’s mix a little bit of MLiS with a sickeningly sweet moral,” he groaned. “Plausible and opens the path to fixing everyone else but it’s unbearably saccharine.” He made a slicing motion through the air. “And I’m again invalidating everything Ma Brandy was going through. I’m just rewriting the story and ignoring her problems.”

A third scenario. In this one, it was another battle but this time, his pleas were to Ma Brandy. He would confess to her his own problems. His own troubles and doubts about rewriting people and why he fundamentally stood against her even though he acknowledged that, in some way, she was a dark reflection of what he was. Somehow, he would get through to her and she would… somehow retract her powers as a natural evolution to her abilities?

“Urgh,” he groaned. “That’s even worse!”

He turned towards the fourth’s image. “There just isn’t an answer! How am I supposed to resolve this without being a hypocrite? How can I revert Frostfire without just overwriting what she overwrote?” He growled at himself, digging his claws into the side of his head. “Fuck… She’s right. I’m just a goddamn sidekick…”

Jacob stared hard at the scene… and his features softened.

“Maybe… Maybe there isn’t an answer… At least not yet.”

Slowly, the tension in his shoulders slackened and a gentle smile touched his features. “Right…”

Then he stepped forward, entering the diorama in front of him and back into the world. To everyone else, not even a moment passed when he uttered that deadpan ‘oh’. But to him, an eternity seemed to have expired.

Without warning, he turned towards the cabaret’s bar and launched himself towards the lone bartender there. A torrent of lobsters erupted from his feet, launching him several yards off the stage and onto the bar where he squatted in front of the stunned bartender.

“Sorry,” he said. “I need a drink.”

He grabbed the man by the collar and hurled him over his shoulder easily, sending the Boy crashing into a few of the nearby goons. Then he ducked behind the bar, lifting his free hand and snapping a finger through the air. Large, blue, velvety curtains suddenly drew over the entire bar, blocking it from view.

Frostfire let out a roar and launched himself across the air, flames bursting from his fists. As he landed in front of the bar, those same curtains drew open.

Jacob was suddenly standing there, dressed in a white, pinstriped suite, bearing a red bow tie and black slacks held up by suspenders. With a broad grin, he set a drink in a large, tall cocktail glass in front of Frostfire. It started with a brilliant, vibrant blue beverage at the bottom, turning white before shifting to bright yellows and then a deep, crimson red at the top.

“Here you go, sir,” he announced brightly. “A drink specially made for you! I call it the ‘Cool and Spicy, Hot and Tangy’! Enjoy!”

Frostfire stared at the drink in confusion and then towards Ma Brandy who rolled her eyes and then beckoned for him to drink it. Frostfire snarled, grabbed the cocktail and, in one gulp, poured it down his throat and guzzled it. His eyes immediately boggled and he collapsed against the bar, coughing loudly.

“Really?” Ma Brandy mocked. “Resorting to poisoning your own hero?” The torrent of booze carried her across the stage down towards him. “If you thought that you could win my favor by making a unique, enticing drinks and becoming my bartender -”

Then, Frostfire lifted his head, gasping in surprise.

His features were no longer canine.

They were back to his ursine features.

Ma Brandy’s eyes boggled in horror.

The other Brandy Boys did the same.

“What…?” she gasped. “What did you just do?”

“Made him a drink that was reflective of him as a person,” Jacob responded with a satisfied tilt of his head. Turning towards her, he smirked. “You know, it’s funny. You just assumed that my powers were related to lobsters. But I never said that was what they were.”

As her gaze turned back towards him, he pushed a margarita glass towards her. It was filled with a simple, golden brew. Almost like a beer.

“Have a drink,” he coaxed.

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Who are you?”

“No one,” was all he answered. “Go on. Drink up.” Holding up his paw, he said, “And don’t worry. It’s not poison. Worst case, you get turned back to whomever you were before the Ma Brandy persona took over. That is, of course, assuming you’re a clone. Best case…” He shrugged. “… it’s one hell of a drink.”

Ma Brandy swiped the glass from the table and she took a sip…

… and in an instant, her eyes widened.

Her fingers went slack and the glass toppled from her fingers. It shattered on the ground. Not a drop of liquid was left even though she had supposedly only taken a sip. Beads of sweat gathered from her forehead and she slumped forward onto the bar. All the booze that had swirled around her dropped from her control and all her Boys stumbled forward, rushing to her aid. She immediately held out her paws, telling them to stop.

With a shaking finger, she pointed at Reaper, eyes blazing.

“Make… that drink… again,” she demanded.

Jacob picked up another glass and absently began cleaning it with a rag. “I can’t.”

“What?” she sneered. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t because what you just imbibed was that exact moment in liquid form.”

She frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

Jacob set down the glass and slung the rag over his shoulder. “Just what I said. I took that exact moment, the glorious moment of your existence and transformed it into a cocktail. And you drank it. There is now literally a second, a brief instant, in your life that is gone forever because you drank it.” He made a fluttering motion with his paw. “You’ll never get that back and I can’t make it again because that moment is gone. Forever.”

“Bullshit!” she bellowed. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” he countered with a smile. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. And honestly, I was stressing myself over not using the full extent of my powers because I felt that it was the anathema that led me to this feeling of ennui that crippled my performance and filled me with such apathy that it felt like everything was draped in sepia tone. It wasn’t until I watched you rob Sparkles here of his future, of all the choices he could make and all the possibilities he could enjoy that something sparked in me.”

Jacob straightened, his tone turning somber. “I was literally killing myself trying to restrict my own powers. I spent a long time holding back just to make my job more and more entertaining for myself. I convinced myself it was to ‘adhere to rules’ or so that ‘I won’t break reality’. But that was never the case.” He shook his head. “You made me realize that I was being selfish. It isn’t about me. It’s about the people I’m helping.” He reached over and lightly tapped her nose. “And that means you as well.”

Placing his paws on the bar, he said, “So here’s the deal. You’ve now lost a moment in your life that you’ll never get back. Seems trivial, right?”

“If you think I can’t get over one measly second…” she snarled.

“Like the second you lost your son?”

Her eyes widened.

“Or the second when you realized the Legion was just using you?”

“That’s different!” she barked.

“Yes. Those seconds are far more insignificant compared to cosmological and existential crisis that is literally devouring a moment of your own time,” he countered. “So if you can get over that, why can’t you get over heartache and betrayal?” He shrugged and stepped back. “I’m trivializing it. It’s not easy. I know. But it puts things into perspective, don’t you think?”

He then pulled a large bell from behind the bar and rang it loudly.

“Alright, folks! That’s it! Show’s over!”

He then locked eyes with Ma Brandy.

“The bar is closed.”

❖

* * * * *

“So let me summarize,” Odin intoned. “Reaper was not only able to reverse your transformation into one of Ma Brandy’s Boys but he was also able to inflict upon her a psychological block that prevents her from using her powers. A block that has spread throughout all of her hive mind and now crippled each and every one of her copies.”

Frostfire sat in his study, arms crossed and regarding the silhouette of a raven in front of him. “Yes. That about sums it up.”

“And you are sure that the simple mental block is enough to stop her?”

“The way he described it…” Frostfire mulled the question for a few moments. “… He weaponized his own trauma.”

“What…?”

The grizzle struggled to put what Reaper had told him into words as he barely could understand it himself. From what the No One had said, he and Ma Brandy shared a tenuous connection in what they could do. Reaper constantly bemoaned that he had the ability to overwrite everything and everyone to be their perfect selves but that would just invalidate their journey to that point. A paradox presented itself where if he just gave everyone what they wanted including but not limited to removing the suffering that would have made their desires valid in the first place, then what they want would not be what the new version of themselves would want. He was effectively paralyzed with this understanding.

But Ma Brandy was not.

So he made her understand.

“By making her consume a single moment in time?”

“I think that was just a metaphor,” Frostfire answered, still unsure of his words. “What he did was make Ma Brandy realize that if she could get over losing that moment, then she could also get over her past.” He tilted his head to the side. “But then that would mean she would also let go of who she is now, invalidating all of her desires and everything she had done up to that point. All her work into developing her powers. Everything she did to create her network. All of it.”

“And now there are these two halves constantly competing against one another,” concluded his handler. “The part that has been challenged to let go of her past, that wants to do that…”

“And the part that doesn’t because that would mean everything she’d done is pointless.” Frostfire inclined his head in the opposite direction. “I think that’s what Reaper meant when he said he was weaponizing his own trauma. He can’t get out of that paradox. He’s an extradimensional entity that can do whatever he wants and has lived countless lifetimes apparently. He’s experienced everything there is. But even he can’t get out of his own head about this.”

“So how can Ma Brandy do the same?” mulled Odin. After a lengthly pause, he continued. “Was he able to reverse the transformation of the other Boys?”

“Some of them. He basically did the same to them. Created custom cocktails and had them drink it. Ma Brandy even ordered them to. I think she was looking for a solution. Just like him. Some Boys turned back but others didn’t.”

“Despite that, neither of them found a solution to their paradox?”

The bear glanced out his window. From where he sat, he could see Reaper leaning against the fence in his front yard to his elderly neighbor, chatting with Mrs. Lorris, no doubt touting charming southern accent.

“Not to their satisfaction.”

Reaper did not invalidate who the Boys had become or what they did up until that point. What he had done was give them a choice. Though the majority of the Boys had wanted to switch back, a minority did not. Ma Brandy refused to take that as an answer but just could not muster her powers again because of this traumatizing block.

Though Reaper seemed oddly at peace with the decision.

“And how was he able to determine who they once were?”

The question brought Frostfire back to the briefing. “He’s apparently got these eyes that lets him see into every possibility in existence.”

“So not only is he capable of rewriting all of reality as you claim he is capable of doing, but he is also omniscient.”

His eyes drifted back towards the screen. “That’s right.”

“Someone like that is far too dangerous to just be allowed to wander free. None of our monitors and alarms have gone off.”

Frostfire closed his eyes briefly, clenching his fists tightly. “With all due respect, I don’t think you should even try to detain him.”

“Explain.” Before he could respond, his handler said, “I fully agree with you. But I would like to hear your reasoning.”

Inwardly letting out a sigh of relief, the grizzly said, “Reaper… rather, Hayward Colt as he’s going by, doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s genuinely concerned about people. I honestly think what he did to Ma Brandy was a sort of… middle ground. He disabled her but also gave her the ability to grow. Enough that with a little help, she might actually be a beneficial contributor to society. And,” he added sharply, “enough that the Legion can apprehend her.”

“He also seems to be mentally unstable but self-aware enough of his own instability that he won’t fly off the handle. There is very little stopping him from destroying our entire universe at a whim. Am I correct?”

Frostfire nodded grimly even though he knew his handler could not see the motion. “Yes.”

“That is why I am giving you a new assignment. You are to keep a close eye on him. Placate him. Do whatever it takes to keep him stable. Best case, convince him to leave us alone. Go back to wherever he came from.”

The bear inhaled sharply and opened his muzzle to protest but Odin continued.

“He seems to be a man of his word. Someone who is honorable. But I cannot say that everything he does or wants aligns with the Legion’s goals. I do not know him. So your new assignment is twofold. Keep an eye on him and help him on his journey of self-discovery while continuously reporting to me and the Legion of his capabilities.”

Frankly, that was the best Frostfire could hope for. Any attempt to restrain Reaper would only end in disaster. He would have felt uncomfortable just letting the extremely powerful reality bender out of his sight whether it was in the Legion’s custody or not. Some part of his mind just imagined that the enigmatic wolf would willingly go with the Legion because it amused him only to break out later when he got bored.

“Understood,” he intoned.

“Good. Keep me appraised.”

The conversation seemed to be at an end and Frostfire navigated his cursor to close the call.

“And Frostfire.”

“Yes?” he said, stalling a moment from hitting that button.

“Good to have you back.”

The sentiment was strange especially coming from the normally taciturn and emotionless Odin. “Thanks.”

The call ended, this time on the other side.

Frostfire let out a breath of relief and shut his laptop. He got up from his seat and had to navigate around his desk and that awful chair in the middle of the room that Reaper left. If he hadn’t just been assigned to keep an eye on the wolf, he would have asked for it to be destroyed. As he headed out of his home, he wondered if he could just have it moved somewhere else. True to his suspicions, Reaper was chatting away with Mrs. Lorris. She saw him first and gave him a little wave, ending their conversation.

“Don’t be a stranger now, Hayward,” chuckled Mrs. Lorris, turning to leave. “And do come over to have tea some day. My grandson would love to meet you.”

Reaper waved pleasantly at her. “Will do, ma’am,” he said in that southern drawl of his. “Ya’ll have a nice day now.”

Frostfire hovered over his shoulder and they both watched the elderly calico enter her home. Only once he was sure she would not be eavesdropping did he start speaking.

“It sounds like you’re planning to stay a little longer,” he stated.

“I don’t think you or the Legion would like me running around your reality knowing what you know,” Reaper answered with a shrug. When Frostfire didn’t speak, the wolf gave him a smirk. “Come on. I’m not an idiot. You barely knew me and you really didn’t owe me that much. If you hadn’t reported what I had told you to your superiors or gave some bullshit explanation on how you were transformed by Ma Brandy and miraculously came back, I would’ve been extremely disappointed.”

“I could have lied and said something about using my powers to burn away the alcohol in my system and that somehow worked to burn away her influence,” rumbled Frostfire. “But yeah, my handler would’ve seen through my lies.”

Reaper pushed off the fence he was leaning against and turned to him, a gentle smile on his muzzle. “It’s fine. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that I should stop trying to restrict myself.” He got a distant look in his eyes. “For the longest time, I put these shackles on myself under the pretense that unleashing everything that I have or doing anything and everything I can could break reality or upend the natural order or something. But really, I was just lying to myself.” The wolf shrugged his broad shoulders. “I could literally rewrite reality so that whatever I did was permissible. All I was doing was just making things more challenging for myself because I was bored.”

A frightening thought but, at the same time, a thought that Frostfire could sympathize with. Barely anything happened in Barewillow Creek and he kept himself busy just to fill his days with something to do.

“And now?”

“Now?” Reaper turned around, gazing up at the sky. A gentle wind blew through his fur. “I’m still a long way from feeling like myself. Maybe I never will.” He let out a bitter chuckle and waved a paw absently around his ear. “I’ve romanticized this version of me from the past. Someone who was ignorant, still learning and with this starry-eyed perspective that is still amazed at everything that comes my way. And I find myself at a crossroads.”

He gave Frostfire a little smile. “Do I just go on the way I am or do I wipe the slate clean?”

“Can you do that?”

“Probably. I can likely create a system of reincarnation. There will always be an ‘R3’ but after a certain point, once I reach a sufficient stage of burnout, I’ll just reincarnate. Get rewritten.” The wolf shrugged. “But I don’t think that’s the way I want to go.”

“So you’ll just suffer through the burnout?”

“Nope.”

The bear frowned. “Then what’s your solution?”

Reaper smiled and patted his shoulder lightly. “I’ll stop demonizing this part of me. Whether I realized it or not, part of the reason I was shackling myself was because I wanted some one else to make a decision for me. Gods. Fate. Chance. Luck. Other people? I would tell them I could not do something because of some arbitrary rule but, really, I was never restricted. Not really. I was paralyzed and needed someone to give me a push in the right direction.” His gaze grew distant again for a moment. “Almost like Ma Brandy, really.”

The No One let out a bitter laugh and let his paw slip from Frostfire’s shoulder and strode past him. “I am Jacob Samuel Reaper, R3 the Writer of Reality, a No One,” he continued. “Refusing to use the full extent of my powers because of some made up rule or boredom is just me trying to forget and erase who I am. I’d be no better than if I was another of the Brandy Boys. Distantly aware of who I was and deluding myself that I am someone else because it felt good.” He glanced over his shoulder at Frostfire. “It’s why some of the Brandy Boys were able to turn back but not all of them.”

Frostfire turned to face him. “You mean some of those guys genuinely didn’t want to turn back? They preferred to have their lives erased just to be a criminal?”

“That’s a dream for some people. To have the ability to actually choose the circumstances of your birth and identity.” Reaper shook his head grimly. “You didn’t see it. But making those personal cocktails for each person willing to transform back? It wasn’t an instantaneous thing. I didn’t just have a ‘eureka moment’ and turned everyone back.”

“How long did it take?”

“Hard to tell when you’re in a place where time and space has no meaning but to me…?” He let out a soft snort. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t just me snapping my fingers and miraculously gaining such intimate insight into someone that I could create a personalized cocktail for them.”

“And how long did it take for you to come up with mine?”

Even with Reaper’s back to him, Frostfire had an feeling the wolf was smiling. “Long enough. Let’s leave it at that.” Jacob tilted his head, canting an ear. “But you wanted to turn back. I think even if you had been stuck in that state for years, you’d always want to go back to being Frostfire. Regardless of the misery in your life or this dead end assignment, you’re proud of who you are. And, deep down, I am too. It’s why, like those that turned back, I chose to keep my memories, wear these scars and carry my cross. I won’t erase anything about myself just because it makes me feel better.” He tilted his head upwards. “And it also means I need to turn those scars into strengths.” Then he glanced over his shoulder at the bear, a bright grin on his features. “Within the limits of my virtues, of course.”

Frostfire offered a little smile though, inwardly, he was sighing in relief. “Of course.” He shoved his large paws into his pockets. “So full disclosure, I’ve been asked to keep an eye on you and report back to the Legion. You’re stuck with me for a little while longer, Hayward Colt.”

Reaper flashed him a broad grin. “Great. So how about we start decorating your abode to make it a little more homey?” He started heading for the front door. “At the very least let’s get you a damn refrigerator. You remember that gelatinous bed? There’s this model of fridge that is pretty much the same. Keeps everything fresh, doesn’t require any power and is only slightly slimy but that’s easily avoidable if you wrap everything up properly.”

The wolf gave little chef’s kiss and Frostfire rolled his eyes, leading the way into his home. The moment they stepped inside, however, he immediately felt like the air became incredibly heavy. Like everything became extremely humid but instead of hot moisture in the air, it was metal. It was difficult to breathe and he almost felt like he would topple over because of the incredible weight on his shoulders.

“Oh boy…” Reaper sighed, gently setting a paw on his shoulder. “This can’t be good.”

Together, they headed back into his study… and immediately found four men occupying the space. One was seated in Reaper’s chair. The No One looked completely taken aback by the sight of them.

“Dad?” Reaper blurted, regarding the well-built wolf that shared similar features to him. “Pops?” That was directed at the Rottweiller standing beside the wolf. Then his gaze drifted to the older wolf. “Grandpa?”

His features soured as he looked towards the wolf dressed in an immaculate suit occupying his chair.

“Damo -”

That very same wolf cleared his throat, making Reaper roll his eyes.

“The Director,” Jacob growled. “What are you all doing here?” He waved a finger absently through the air. “Shouldn’t you be puppeteering this whole experience and orchestrating ways to help me get over my self-imposed depression through trauma?”

The younger wolf with a blonde forelock gave him a shaky grin. “Yeah… about that…”

“Jake,” the Rottweiler began, holding up beefy paws. “Before you say anything, I want to remind you that we love you.”

Even Frostfire was starting to feel how awkward this was becoming.

“And that everything we did was to help you,” added the older of the wolves and interestingly the tallest of those gathered. He towered even over Frostfire. “So please, keep that in mind…”

“Jesus Christ,” growled the seated wolf, a black-furred man who probably only stood at about 5’6’’ and had brown hair between his large ears and sporting a brown goatee. “Just rip the bandage off.” He made a slicing motion towards them both. “Listen here, Reaper, we lost control of this reality.”

Reaper blinked a few times in quick succession leaving Frostfire to glance between him and the gathered men in confusion.

“You… what…?” whispered Reaper softly.

The men whom Reaper had claimed to be his relatives looked uncomfortably and seemed to shy away while The Director stood his ground and just stared back at Reaper with cool, almost uncaring eyes.

“You heard me,” said The Director bluntly. “We lost control of this reality.”

Road Trip

* * * * *

Jacob sat on a simple, metal chair opposite to the plush throne that he had once summoned. His head was bowed, one arm was wrapped around his diaphragm while he was using his other paw to rub his temple. A migraine was threatening to completely blind him. Though, as he considered it, he seriously considered what the benefits of suddenly dying of an aneurysm would be to his current situation.

Opposite to him, leaning back in the high-backed chair with a smug look on his face was The Director of the Nexus Conglomerate; an arrogant, vain and impulsive self-styled god that, admittedly, had a way of turning any situation into an opportunity. The man who not only considered himself as Jacob’s rival but had reshaped his form to mirror the Author, looked extremely pleased with himself.

Flanking The Director, looming over the man with barely concealed contempt was Daniel Wolfe also known as F6 the Patriarch, a fellow No One. Claiming dominion of all the physical aspects of mortal existence, Dan was the No One of the Body which was reflected in his enormous build. By far the biggest person in the room, he towered over everyone else and was always bigger in muscle mass than anyone else. Measurements were not a factor. No matter what, everyone would always be looking up at Dan and he would always be more muscular, have a bigger dick and larger everything. The older wolf had the same black fur as the rest of the Reaper/Wolfe wolves but his hair was a stark silver instead of the golden blond that the rest had. He wore a skin tight compression shirt that had bright blue lines accentuating the muscles of his torso. Baggy, black pants wrapped around his beefy legs while heavy, military boots wrapped his enormous feet.

Standing off to The Director’s left were the fathers of Jacob’s soul, Jason Wolfe and Brett Sykes-Wolfe. Jason, the lupine, had Dan’s bulky build but was much younger and his brown hair was decorated with a golden forelock. Brett, the Rottweiller was about the same size as Jason but had squarer features and could easily be mistaken as being bulkier. Both men were dressed in casual clothes with Jason wearing a shirt that said ‘I Came in Today’ while Brett had one that said, ‘Hi, I’m Today’. The shirts brought away attention from Brett’s shockingly short, denim shorts.

An eclectic mix of personalities that formed the think tank responsible for his current situation.

“Alright,” Jacob said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Firstly, where is my husband?”

It did not pass his attention that Frostfire shuffled uncomfortably beside him. With his repulsion toward using his eyes to peer through all possibilities set aside, his senses were a little sharper than most others. While far from ‘fully opened’, he found that keeping what he dubbed his ‘Eyes of Chaos’ partially active allowed him to alleviate the pain from forcing them closed while also avoiding what he considered ‘spoilers’.

As if on cue, a soft ringing emitted from Frostfire’s pocket. The bear looked down startled and plucked his phone from his pocket.

“Sorry,” rumbled the bear. “I’ll just -”

“Let me answer it,” Jacob said, holding out his paw with a sigh.

“What?” came the puzzled response. “It’s a number I don’t recognize. It’s probably a telemarketer.”

“If it’s just a telemarketer, I’ll bottom when we eventually fuck.” The startled look from Frostfire was enough for Jacob to reach out, take the phone from the big bear’s paws and answer it by putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hi,” came a male voice attempting very hard to sound feminine. “I’m calling to talk to you about your car’s extended warranty.”

Relief washed over Jacob’s heart and he let out a soft sigh of relief. “Hey, babe.”

“Sup,” answered EX the Existent, his husband and the embodiment of all existence. “You doing okay?”

“Better knowing that you weren’t somehow hurt or ended up being trapped by whatever scheme resulted in this colossal mess.”

“Bitch, please. I spent countless eternities holding together all of existence. Ain’t nothing that can squelch me.” Then EX’s voice became softer, filled with concern. “But you didn’t really answer my question. How are you doing?”

“You know full well how I’m doing.”

“Oh I do. But do you?” There was a moment of silence on the other side. “Sometimes saying it aloud helps, you know.”

Jacob took a deep breath and then exhaled it through his lips. “Alright…” He lifted his gaze, his irises now a slightly lighter shade of blue than their near-black. “I’m not mad.”

“Oh no…” Brett grimaced, flinching backwards. “He’s actually going to say it, isn’t he?”

“I’m just really disappointed.”

Jason groaned, clutching his chest.

“Did that feel good?” EX asked.

“No,” Jacob responded, not letting his gaze waver. “It just gives voice to how I’m feeling right now and allows us to segue the conversation towards an explanation.” He narrowed his gaze. “Now explain. How exactly did you ‘lose control of the reality’?”

The four men in front of him exchanged glances.

Dan began, making circular motions with his large paws. “So you know how we basically created this entire reality as a means to help you find your groove again?” Jacob did not respond, allowing the older wolf to continue. “From the very inception, we made the whole world to basically get you to go through some experiences that will basically act as reflections to how you’re feeling and help you deal with them in an external way thereby helping you realize how to get over your own hangups.”

“These weren’t our perceptions of what’s wrong either,” Jason began quickly. “Our view would always be biased. We love you, after all.”

“Speak for yourself,” The Director quipped. “What we have is a toxic codependency where we constantly challenge one another and love every moment of it.”

Jacob felt Frostfire gaze at him but he quickly waved a paw at the bear indicating that he would explain later. “So what you ended up doing was creating a reality that was effectively a mirror of myself. Whatever criticisms, negativity or perceived faults I had would just be reflected back at me by the universe.” He narrowed his gaze. “But how did you manage it so that it would create cohesive story lines that would…” Then his eyes widened as a realization dawned on him and he watched a grin crawl onto The Director’s muzzle. “You didn’t…”

The Director shrugged. “Hey, I’m a busy wolf. I couldn’t sit here babysitting you while you went through a mental breakdown.”

Bearing his fangs, Jacob flashed his claws at the wolf a few yards from him. “So you created an artificial intelligence to manage my therapy!?”

“Yep!”

Then he looked to Dan, Jason and Brett. “And you let him!? You do realize that about half of the AIs he creates goes rogue and I have to step in to fix them, right!?”

The Director lifted a finger pointedly. “For your information, only 66.67 percent of my AIs go rogue.”

“That’s two-thirds!” Jacob roared, fighting hard not to crush the phone in his paws. “You do know that two-thirds is more than a half, right!?”

“Easy, hon,” EX soothed gently. “We all love you but, like The Director said, we’ve got our own lives to live and I know you’d hate it if everyone dropped everything to dote on you.”

Sadly, that was true. While he was not above asking for help, just the mere thought that all of existence would be put on hold because he was having a psychotic break drilled a hole of guilt into his chest. “Fine,” he snarled. Then, a little calmer and a little more convincingly, he added, “Fine. So the AI went rogue. How?”

“It’s really your fault,” The Director said bluntly.

“Dude!” Brett snapped. Looking towards Jacob apologetically. “What he means is that the AI was really complicated. It would retroactively change factors in the past to create scenarios that it could throw at you to help you work out your problems. Problems you both knew about and didn’t consciously acknowledge.”

“Time travel,” he grumbled. “Wonderful. So? Has it gone and created a paradox that’s going to eat up the universe or something? Did it unleash the multiverse which is a concept that is very old and stale by now that we’re going to have to start piecing things together again into a singular time line or risk disastrous crossover events?”

“No…” grimaced the Rottweiller. “More like… it was so reactive that when you resolved a bunch of your issues in the span of three days of it throwing it’s first scenario at you… it had to adapt.”

Jacob frowned, leaning forward. “Wait… So you’re telling me because I’m mature enough to have understood and recognized that I am the only person standing in my own way to the point where I have taken a step to utilizing my own psychosis as a weapon in the span of a few days that I was in here… the AI went rogue?”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, giving an apologetic grin. “Yeah… Basically.”

“What is it trying to do now?” He glanced back towards the Director. “Please don’t tell me it’s going to try and clone me or send versions of me that will try to kill me.”

The Director rolled his eyes. “Please. That got boring after the fourth or fifth thousand time it happened.”

“So, what then?”

Dan gave a shrug while wearing a sheepish grin. “It’s decided to unleash… apocalypses.”

He frowned but it was Frostfire who spoke next.

“I’m sorry,” rumbled the bear, holding up his paws. “I know I’m out of my depth here but did I hear you right? Did you just say that it is going to unleash apocalypses? As in… plural?”

“He did,” Jacob sighed, slumping into his chair. “Sometimes I wish language wasn’t so flexible that you couldn’t just make a plural version of something that literally means the end of the world. By it’s very definition, the fight at the end of time should only ever occur once. It shouldn’t happen multiple times or, in this case, have multiple instances happening at the same time competing over which one can end the world faster!”

“So you get it then,” The Director said, clapping his paws and jumped to his feet. “Great, let’s go.”

Dan grabbed the wolf’s shoulder and pushed him back down onto the seat. “Oh no. You’re not leaving until you tell him exactly why this happened.”

“What’s to tell?” shrugged the brow-haired wolf. “I was stuck between refusing to help because the longer he’s stuck having an existential crisis, the more profit I can make without him constantly talking my ear off about ethics, morality or free will…” Then, the Director did something even Jacob didn’t expect. The hardness in his brown eyes softened and the smarmy smirk on his muzzle faded as he regarded Jacob with genuine concern. “… and the very real possibility that without him, I would not be challenged and the very core of my business’ model for growth and opportunity would be gone.”

That almost sounded like The Director admitting that he needed R3 the Writer of Reality.

Almost.

“So instead of fretting over whether or not I should help, I just half-assed the AI,” the Director said with a shrug. “Slapped it together, barely added any moral codes and constraints.” He dusted his paws. “Done. Really, this is all your fault for not double-checking my work.”

Dan looked about ready to cave in the Director’s skull.

Though Jacob could see through the corporate wolf’s bravado. The supposed ‘half-assed’ AI was not so haphazardly put together. There was just enough restraint in the system to keep it from totally destroying the world and complex enough to reflect Jacob’s own neurosis back at him. The lack of constraints was intentional. After all, how could you possibly create a reality for the man who could make every possibility a reality if it wasn’t governed by a system that wasn’t afraid to do anything?

“Okay,” Jacob breathed, slightly calmer. “So the AI is crazy. What do you mean by it’s throwing apocalypses my way?”

The Director’s tone began serious. “It’s taken all your little insecurities and doubts, all your gripes and complaints and dragged out and extrapolated them into world-ending disasters. This entire reality is about to be torn down by scenarios that were made to help you get over yourself but multiplied by a million both in potency and quantity.”

“And I assume there is some reason you’re telling me this and not just fixing it the way I know all five of you can.”

“Correct,” EX said, with a little chuckle. “To put it in terms you’ll understand, babe. This story needed some stakes. Since you’ve learned the value of your own abilities, seemed fitting that the stakes were equally as grave.”

That migraine was coming back again. “And what’s stopping me from just rewriting this place to remove the AI and its impact?”

“Because you hate rewrites. The AI does not.”

“Shit…” he growled. “So this thing is literally my antithesis.”

“Yep. It’s designed to make you face yourself but in the most ridiculous, exaggerated, world ending manner. It knows that you won’t just rewrite all of reality and it knows that you just won’t leave either. You can’t. You’re just too nice.”

“You make that sound like a fault.”

“It is. That’s why you have the rest of us to cover your cute ass. But you’re going to face this on your own. It’ll make you better. Well… mostly on your own.”

He eyes the phone warily. “Explain.”

“I’ve been mostly sitting on the sidelines on this one. Just watching to make sure they don’t mess you up. But seeing how things have escalated, I’ll step in. I’ll point you in the direction of the apocalypses. It’ll be up to you to figure them out.”

A soft, shimmering light erupted from his left, streams of dizzying stars dancing against the far wall to form what could only be a cork board of sorts. On the board appeared what appeared to be a pamphlet pinned down by a simple thumbtack. Jacob got up, wandered over and ripped the parchment from the wall.

“A quest board?” he asked flatly. “Really?”

“I thought it fit thematically.”

“You are such a dork.”

“Nerd.”

The insult made him smile. “Asshole.”

“Twink.”

He couldn’t help but grin and lifted the phone towards his muzzle. Then, he spoke a series of words that was completely incomprehensible. Every syllable shook the house but not in the way an earthquake would. It was like with every utterance, the world was assailed by static while everything became blurry and unfocused.

THUD!

A glance over his shoulder revealed that the Director had suddenly toppled back into the chair, causing it to topple back while blood burst from his nostrils and muzzle like a geyser. Jason and Brett glanced at one another in confusion as they were suddenly wearing one another’s shirts. Dan crossed his arms, eyebrows raised only to realize that the boots he were wearing were now tightly wound around his paws. Frostfire’s nose was bleeding profusely and his eyes had changed color to a crimson red.

“Honey,” chastised EX coyly. “Not in front of the kids. Save it for the bedroom.”

“Are you hard?” Jacob teased.

“My tool could cut diamonds.”

He laughed softly and turned back towards the others, holding up the pamphlet. “Alright. Looks like I’ve got my objective and my quest.” Turning towards Frostfire, he asked the bear to blink twice and when Frostfire did, his eyes had reverted back to their normal color. “Sorry, Sparkles. Looks like I’ve brought more trouble to your door. Hope you don’t mind me sticking around for a bit.”

“Better you do than my world get destroyed by… well… You I guess,” Frostfire mumbled.

“Fair.” He then looked towards the others. “As for the rest of you. Get out.”

❖

* * * * *

The meal was extravagant, lavished and decadent. Starting with a light amus-bouche that Reaper described as a quail egg quiche tartlet infused with white truffle mushrooms and fresh chives, Frostfire was thrust into a culinary world that he had never even thought possible. The steak he was offered was eighteen ounces minimum and sizzled on the plate in front of him. It was gorgeous, perfectly cooked and the bone added extra flavor that had him salivating from the first bite. The herb and radish-infused butter was a little strange at first but it was perfectly balanced and gave him textural contrast against the soft, almost buttery red meat.

He had no say in the matter.

After the confrontation with four other cosmic entities, Reaper had insisted that he prepare dinner. Frostfire normally just scarfed down one of his protein bars for dinner but, at the same time, he didn’t feel like arguing with the No One of Realities. Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Reaper had taken over the kitchen, produced a whole dining table in the middle of his otherwise empty dining room, set some moody lighting and then began serving him once the sun had set.

“Hmmmph!” Frostfire grunted, chewing on the steak.

“Is it good?” Reaper asked, looking up from his own steak. “I genuinely forgot to ask you how you like your steak but I assumed a medium was a good choice especially for something so thick.”

“It’s -” began Frostfire but cut himself off as his muzzle was stuffed. He swallowed for a second, feeling the partially chewed piece of meat lodge itself halfway down which he promptly dislodged with a few well-placed punches to his own chest. “Fantastic,” he gasped. “It’s absolutely fantastic. Never had a steak or meal this good in my life.”

Then, the superhero frowned a moment. “Though, I’m honestly surprised you didn’t pull some weird thing from the other cosmos that would taste even better. Like… I dunno, the left buttcheek of God or something.”

Reaper snorted and chuckled. “Would you believe that there actually is a set of worlds like that? We call it the ‘God Eater Cluster’.” He spun his steak knife through the air. “A set of multiverses where mortals have surpassed the Gods in all aspects but immortality. They chained down the divines and literally carve up their still-living corpses and feast upon them.”

“That’s grim.”

“Oh absolutely. It’s a terrible place to live by our standards. The whole story gets weirder when someone decided that it’d be neat to start eating the reproductive organs of the gods. Fragments of the divine energies cascade down to the mortals and demigods are being born. People hunt them and either try to force them to ascend to godhood, use them for their political gain or whatever grim-dark machination. It’s really fucked up.”

“Did you do anything for them?”

Jacob shrugged. “For the whole reality? No. We weren’t asked. It was standard for them. Some gods willingly gave themselves to be devoured. Those that wanted to be saved, yeah we helped. But we weren’t going to destroy a reality or rewrite it just because we thought it was weird and wrong.” Turned back to cutting his steak, Reaper said, “But to answer your question, while I was tempted to produce a meal that was literally out of this world, I thought you’d prefer something a little more… sedate after everything you’ve been through recently.”

Frostfire smirked at him. “Using your ‘eyes’ to spy on how I’d feel about your meal?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I already new,” countered the wolf. “And it doesn’t take cosmic powers to know that anyone, especially an introvert such as yourself, would be more inclined to eat something less… existentially damaging.”

“I could’ve gone for a protein bar.” Frostfire then picked up the tall cocktail glass filled with his personal cocktail. “Then again, I wouldn’t be enjoying this if that was all I had.”

Reaper smiled briefly before turning back to his meal. “Glad you like it. I did feel like I needed to make it up to you in some way after… well… You know. I basically doomed your world.” Then he frowned. “Speaking of which… You’re taking this news rather well. I’d have thought learning that multiple world-ending scenarios are bearing down upon you because of me would send you into a spiral.”

Frostfire bit into a chunk of steak and took the time to chew it to muse on his answer. By the time he swallowed, he had enough time to reflect to produce a coherent response. “I’m an F-Rank Hero, Reaper. Assigned to Barewillow Creek. I would never have a chance to stop the world from ending. This…” He waved around him. “… This is basically a dream come true.”

“Did you always want to be a superhero that stopped the world from ending?”

The bear smirked at him, seeing an opening. “Did you always want to be the Writer of Reality?”

“Touche,” countered Reaper, returning to his meal.

“I’m genuinely asking,” pressed Frostfire. “Is this what you always wanted?”

There was a second when Reaper stopped cutting his steak and, for a moment, Frostfire thought the wolf would find some excuse to avoid the question.

“No,” he confessed. “It honestly never crossed my mind. I just… fell into the role.”

“Tell me about it.”

Reaper snorted. “How many lifetimes you got?”

“Give me the cliff notes. What were you like as a kid? How did you grow up? What about your parents?” Then Frostfire recalled something that was exchanged earlier in the day. “How did the whole… having two dads work with conception? Is one of your dads…?”

“No, they’re both biologically male,” Reaper answered dismissively. “Sighing softly, he rested his knife down. As he did so, the golden key around his neck glinted in the scant light. “Okay… I don’t know where to even start…” It took him a second before he snapped his fingers. “Okay, I got it. I’m pretty sure this will provide a satisfactory answer.” He glanced off to the left at an empty wall of the room. “Or it’ll satisfy someone.”

Leaning forward, captivated, Frostfire perked his circular ears.

“Reaper Original,” said Jacob, holding up a finger. “R-One if you want.” He cleared his throat dramatically. “Jacob Samuel Reaper was this drifter. Orphaned as a kid but gifted with special powers. He could use any door and link it to any other door that he is fully aware of and basically have some form of instantaneous transportation. As long as it was a door.”

“Sounds like a hand superpower,” Frostfire commented.

“Eh,” Reaper answered with a shrug. “The world he was born in didn’t really have a lot of room for traditional doors. Most of the doors were either automatic, sliding or some sort of magical barrier. It was a world that was governed by these magical emblems known as Seals. Basically looked like three concentric arcane circles with some sort of custom sigil emblazoned on it. Came in all sorts of colors too. Basically think of them as foundational superpowers that could be redrawn and transfered to anyone. As long as you had a Seal, you can do whatever the Seal let you. If it’s a Seal of Ice, for instance, all ice is under your command. Seals could be engraved into things, copied and traded from person to person and some people could even use multiple if they were capable.”

Frostfire nodded in understanding though he didn’t quite understand why Reaper was referring to himself in the third person.

“Anyway, Jacob Reaper grew up on the streets. Alone but he was fairly resourceful. Throughout his life, he was alone except for this mysterious power that he seemed to be born with.”

“The door thing?”

“Another thing. A Brand. Basically the same as a Seal except without the rings of arcane runes. It gave him the power to manipulate Light and Dark energies. It was with these powers that he somehow made it to maturity. Took odd jobs. Drifted from place to place. Got swole. When the story picked up, he was just moving to another town to do what he always did. Survive.”

The wolf went back to eating his meal for a few moments.

“Then he was attacked,” Reaper continued after a while. “The world he lived in was beset by these creatures. Unsealed, they were called. Just think of them are random encounters and monsters in the field. He fought them off but, in doing so, revealed his powers to a couple of civilians that he inadvertently got tangled with.

“What he didn’t know is that his Brand was sort of… infectious. He Branded these civilians, putting them in the same boat as him and placing them in danger. Suddenly, they were all people of interest from the powers of the world.” Jacob waved his knife from side to side. “You’ve got the centrally accepted source of power which is Seals and then you’ve got this other power of the Branded which is poorly defined. Naturally, the Powers That Be want in on that shit.”

“Seems reckless.”

Reaper snorted and got up from his seat, sweeping the finished dish up in his arm. “Incredibly so. But he was an angsty, immature, loner who thought that the world was constantly against him and it was his duty to fight back.” He smirked a little as he plucked Frostfire’s plate from him. “Reminds me a little of you.”

The bear didn’t respond knowing full well that was bait that was designed to get a rise out of him. Reaper retreated to the kitchen while still speaking over his shoulder.

“There was a whole structured series of ‘campaigns’ that happened with him. The main organization he was against was called the Mortealis Organization for Defense and Development. Creative, know. They were basically a global corporation that had such a grip on the world for how they commercialized Seals that they owned everything.”

A moment later, the he returned with two plates of a tall chocolate cake, topped with whipped cream and slathered with a raspberry sauce. Frostfire couldn’t help but drool a little as the dessert was placed in front of him.

“MODD’s primary officers were these so-called ‘Elemental Lords’. People who were experts in using the Elemental Seals. Basically fundamental Seals that others that manipulated the elements were derived from and considered one of the most powerful forces in the world.” Reaper held up six fingers. “There were six of them. One for each of the classic elements; Wind, Earth, Water and Fire and then two for Light and Dark. Each Elemental Lord was chosen based on their compatibility with the Elemental Seals. There was a seventh Elemental Seal. The Elemental Seal of Star.”

Frostfire was halfway to diving into the cake when he paused and looked up at Reaper. “Star…? What the hell is the Element of Star?”

Reaper smirked and sat down on his own seat. “Honestly, I sometimes ask myself the same question. But it was defined as pure energy. Not quite heat from fire but basically atomic power. And wouldn’t you know it, the Elemental Lord of Star just happened to be Jacob’s brother, Rex.”

The bear set down his fork and gave Reaper an exasperated stare. “Really? His brother’s name is ‘Rex Reaper’?”

“Don’t look at me,” said the No One with a shrug. “I didn’t write this shit.” He began poking at his own cake. “Jacob traveled from Elemental Lord to Elemental Lord, learning from them that MODD was simultaneously not as oppressive as they seemed and that they were responsible for horrendous experiments in order to cement their control over Seals. One of those experiments actually led to his orphaned upbringing and the creation of the Brand. In fact, his own dad’s consciousness was bound to the Brand he bore, quietly egging him on and manipulating him to avenge him.”

Frostfire took a bite out of the cake and had to stop himself from moaning in ecstasy. It was a perfectly balanced and moist delight. The cake itself was like a soft, cool cloud while the ganache between the layers was creamy without being too heavy. He detected hints of orange in the cake which cut through the richness of the chocolate. Coupled with the meringue on top - it wasn’t whipped cream - and the raspberry sauce, it was all perfectly balanced. Better than anything he had ever tried before.

“Sounds like there were a lot of assholes trying to use him.”

“Even the other Branded had their own agendas,” Reaper said with a shrug. “It wasn’t until later when they all realized the threat of the forces that truly controlled MODD that they united as one.” He waved a fork absently through the air. “See, before us No Ones, there were the Chaos Lords. They possessed their own Seals that granted them control over the concepts of destruction, manipulation, alteration, creation and connection. Like us No Ones, they stood outside of time and space but they had the goal of abusing their powers and using it to their own advantage.”

He let out a little laugh and glanced ruefully on his plate. “When the No Ones came together, we all agreed that we would not be like the Chaos Lords. Now I’m wondering if we took that lesson too far and became so selfless that we lost our own identities as we made it about everyone else and not ourselves.”

Reaper shook his head and finally began eating his cake. Frostfire noted how, despite how good the cake was, the No One of Reality barely reacted to it.

“The Chaos Lords wanted to return everything, all of existence, to Primordial Chaos. They wanted to reach the Ultimate Seal, the Seal that held together everything. To do that, they had manipulated MODD to create Seals to find ways to either destroy the Ultimate Seal, recreate it, manipulate it, alter its function or just find a way to it. When the Branded found this out, they finally came together and tried to confront the Chaos Lords at the Graveyard of Doors.”

The superhero pulled his head back in surprise. “That sounds ominous.”

“Oh yeah. The Graveyard of Doors is literally this enormous, desolate place where there are hollow frames of doors scattered about, all of them facing a central crater. At the edge of the crater are a set of enormous doors, the only whole ones across the entire Graveyard that were whole and not just frames. Supposedly, that’s where the Great Seal War began and when Seals were first restricted. The Branded learned that the Chaos Lords were looking to conduct a ritual at the Graveyard with the Forbidden Seals to open the door to the Ultimate Seal.”

“But you stopped them, right?” prompted Frostfire. “Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

Reaper snorted and shook his head. “Nope,” he responded, popping his lips at the ‘p’. “Jacob Reaper fucking failed. The Branded fell. Rex died. All the allies they had gathered could only lie there dying or frozen in fear as the ritual was conducted. All fifteen of the monolithic doors were opened, a tear was created in reality and the Chaos Lords had access to the Ultimate Seal.”

“But… How did…?”

Jacob offered him a little smile. “When that tear was created, it tore through other realities as well. And there just happened to be one other Jacob Reaper that was dragged into the situation. Through some connection between him and the one on Mortaelis, they forged a bond that led them to converging in that one moment.”

He held up his paws, crossing his fingers together. “Jacob and Jake Reaper collided, reaching out to one another as one lay dying and the other was at the lowest point in his life. They came together and using their very lives and souls to try fix things.”

“And how did they do that?”

Reaper let out a little smirk and took another bite from his cake. Again, there was no reaction to the taste and Frostfire had to wonder if the wolf actually appreciated what he was eating.

“What the Chaos Lords failed to realize and refused to even entertain is that a single soul has infinite and eternal potential. A soul, an individual, is in their own right a reality unto itself. The Chaos Lords were grouped together but at the same time, they were not a cohesive one. They had their own goals and agendas and only loosely aligned with one another. Even if they were close to getting to the Ultimate Seal, the unification of these two Reapers, unleashing the very power of their souls, ironically locked the tear away and facilitated a rewrite of the timeline.”

“Everything got reset?” Frostfire asked. “Don’t imagine the Chaos Lords were happy with that.”

“All of them were angry… except one,” Jacob said enigmatically. “The one person that was actively holding back the others from the Ultimate Seal.” He shrugged and set down his fork. “But I’ve talked enough and I’m done with dinner.” He nodded towards Frostfire. “How about you?”

The ursine superhero glanced down at his half-finished cake and then up at Reaper. “Did you actually enjoy the cake you made?”

It was Reaper’s turn to look surprised. “Yes…? It came out nice and moist. Why?”

“You didn’t look like it. Like you were just eating for the sake of eating.”

“Says the guy that somehow managed to subsist on protein bars alone.”

Frostfire got up from his seat, grabbed his cake and cut off a piece with his fork. He held it up towards Reaper. “That’s me. And I know how to appreciate this stuff because I’ve eaten nothing but shit before this.” The bear guided the fork towards the wolf who instinctively pulled away like a toddler being forced to eat vegetables. “I want you to eat this. Savor it. Actually taste the stuff you made. It’s damn good.”

Reaper frowned at him. “And what exactly is this meant to achieve?”

“You’re supposed to slow down and appreciate everything around you, right?” Frostfire prompted. “So eat the damn cake. Forget the ingredients you put in it. Just taste it.”

The wolf gave him an exasperated sigh. “Can I at least feed myself?”

“No,” he teased, grinning. “Open your muzzle, you big baby.”

Reaper opened his muzzle and glanced away. His frown deepened a little but Frostfire took the opportunity to shove the piece of cake into the awaiting maw. The wolf closed his jaw around the fork and pulled away, taking the cake with him while he pointed towards the nearby window.

Frostfire looked in the same direction and his eyebrows rose and his jaw dropped. Over the fence, peering through her window, was Mrs. Lorris holding up a pair of binoculars and clearly watching them.

“For fuck…” growled the bear and marched over to the window and drew the blinds. “Goddamnit… I swear she’s going to gossip around town that we’re fucking dating.”

He heard a commotion behind him and glanced back in disappointment. In the span of the ten seconds that he had used to get up and close the blinds, Reaper and lunged across the table and shoveled the remaining cake into his muzzle. Not because he liked the taste. Rather out of spite so he didn’t have to learn his lesson.

“At least we’ll sort of be out of town for a bit, right?” mumbled the wolf, his cheeks stuffed with cake. “You can avoid the immediately fallout.”

“Right but then she’ll slip in the context that we went out for some couple’s getaway or something.” Frostfire moved back towards table and picked up the plate. “Now, shut up and lick the plate clean.”

He got a foul stare for that. “Make me.”

“Oh I will,” Frostfire replied with a sinister grin. “And you know what the best fucking part is?” He leaned close so that his nose was almost pressing against Reaper’s. “You can’t do a fucking thing to stop me because you know I’m right.”

Reaper narrowed his eyes at him, his lips twisting in contempt.

“Fuck…”

❖

* * * * *

“About two hours drive north from Barewillow Creek was the artificial lake known as Lake Ulkataka,” Reaper said. The lupine No One’s eyes were looked down at a device he had manifested that he loosely called a ‘phone’. It was mostly a wristband that could project a ‘hardlight’ construct in the shape of a thin, rectangular prism over his palm that might as well have been phone screen.

Frostfire spared a glance at his companion, taking a moment to tear his gaze from the gentle roads of Maine. Even from where he was sitting just a few feet from Reaper, he couldn’t see the contents of the phone.

“The lake was created when…” Reaper looked up and gave Frostfire a puzzled look. “This can’t be right.”

“What?” asked the grizzly. “Please tell me you’re not reading the history of Lake Ulkataka from the Porcelain Garlic.” He tilted his head lightly towards Reaper. “I know you’re not from here but even you have got to piece together that PG is a satire outlet.”

Reaper snickered for a second. “No. Satire sites are funny but I’m not stupid enough to fall for them. I’m more referring to the fact that Lake Ulkataka was apparently the site of an epic battle between a superhero and some cosmic entity? Like something fell from the sky, unleashed great evil and then there was a battle there?”

Frostfire puffed out his chest as he recited the epic battle between Callisto and the Starbane. Callisto had been the first and only hero to respond at the time and while she was victorious against the strange cosmic visitor that threatened to irradiate the entire world as it consumed more mass, she suffered greatly for it. As time went on, she became weaker and weaker as even the short time exposed to the Starbane shortened her life significantly.

“Callisto defeated the Starbane but at a cost,” he explained. “Just four years after her fight, she was completely bedridden. Her body was giving out on her. Like it just gave up and was breaking down.”

Reaper lowered his phone for a moment and looked out into the distance. “I see,” he rumbled after a moment of silence. “The Starbane was literally entity of entropy. Its mere presence was destroying everything around it and it fed on the emptiness left behind, growing stronger. Callisto defeated it by creating a circular paradox. Her powers of containment made it so that entropy would have nothing to feed on and that nothingness, likewise fed into the very concept of entropy. By feeding on itself, it created that circular reference and it ‘deleted’ itself.”

The grizzly gave Reaper a puzzled look. “That’s right. You figured that out thanks to your eye thing?”

The wolf nodded, gesturing vaguely at his face. “Yeah. Helps with the ocular strain. Instead of seeing every possibility in existence, I can focus my gaze on certain things and even expand my sight to the levels of being ultra-sensory. Still getting used to it…” He closed his eyes briefly and rubbed them through his eyelids. “… Honestly never thought I’d really use them that way after all the time I’ve spent with them. Not really restrictive but just… a different way of using it. It helps me see things I never saw before.”

Frostfire tilted his head slightly. “What are you missing if you can see every possibility with your eyes?”

Opening his eye again, Reaper glanced down at his phone, a little smile on his face. “The moment.” Then he shrugged and switched topics. “But back to why I was a surprised at that statement…” The wolf gave Frostfire a sidelong glance. “Who thought it was a good idea to open a fucking AirBnB right next to the site of an epic battle against a fragment of entropy!?”

Frostfire grunted. “What else were they supposed to do with the space? If we locked and secured every site of a battle against the forces of evil, no one would have anywhere to live!”

Reaper slapped his phone with the back of his paw. “But to open a ‘luxury get away right next to the site of a historic battle’? That’s just capitalism to its most ridiculous levels.” He leaned forward, frowning lightly. “Though I’ll admit that I think the most evil part about this is how much they’re charging us. Seriously, it’s 350 a night!” Giving Frostfire a curious look, he asked, “Unless that’s not really that much in the context of the current economy.”

“It’s a lot,” confirmed the bear. “But it’s the only thing we could get at short notice.”

“Fair.” Reaper settled into his seat, lowering his phone. “But I’m saying right now, if we have to deal with some zealous cult that is trying to bring back the Starbane or harness its power somehow with sacrifice related to some sort of ritualistic drowning, I am going to give this place a bad review.”

The ursine superhero snorted and shook his head lightly. His heart was pounding in his chest. Heading off to potentially stop an apocalypse was oddly exciting and though he wished he had more information on exactly the kind of apocalypse they’d be stopping, he was still very excited. Part of him was comforted that he was partnered up with a literal multi-dimensional entity that could rewrite reality itself even though Reaper was unpredictable. In the back of his mind, he still hoped that success here would elevate his rank across the Legion. In the forefront, he reminded himself that he was doing this for the greater good.

But really, he wanted that prestige and the possibility of actually getting to be a superhero.

They drove in silence for about another half an hour. Reaper was scrolling absently through his phone. From the corner of his eyes, Frostfire could tell that whatever the wolf was looking at was not part of a normal person’s feed. There were times when, as he glanced over, his eyes hurt because whatever was on screen seemed to warp and twist on the screen. He refrained from asking as he sensed that it was not something Reaper felt like sharing.

Just a little past noon, they finally arrived at Lake Ulkataka. The massive lake was large enough that the opposite shore was just barely visible even though the trees around them towered high enough that traveling amongst them shrouded the sun in a perpetual overcast. The cabin that they were assigned was a solitary wooden structure sitting on a small, elevated knoll not too far from the shore. A little pathway made out of red bricks wound its way through the thick grass to a small, wooden pier which had a rowboat hitched upon it. The cabin looked well maintained and judging by the canoes and paddles set up against the small shed near the pier, it was clearly made for people wishing to take advantage of the pristine, blue waters.

Frostfire parked his big, red pickup truck in the solitary parking spot, shut off the engine and emerged from the vehicle, quickly taking in his surroundings. There were a few similar cabins and camping sites dotting the lake shore. There looked to be a sort of summer camp to the west. Completely opposite to them was what appeared to be some luxurious mansion with a pier that had a red light blinking to mark its presence.

“Getting Great Gatsby vibes,” Reaper stated, shutting the door of the truck behind him. “Though an ‘aristocratic apocalypse’ wouldn’t be on the top of my list of disasters that would end the world, I could imagine the murder of some highly influential individual on our watch could kick off World War 3 or something.”

“Why would we have another World War 3?” asked Frostfire.

Reaper shot him an equally puzzled look. “Wait… how many World Wars have you guys had?” Frostfire held up six fingers and the wolf recoiled in surprise. “And you haven’t nuked yourselves to oblivion? How?”

“Not all wars deal with nukes,” answered the superhero. “Almost every World War tends to wipe out a large number of superheroes or at least force new restrictions upon them. It was World War 3 where countries actually used their stock of superheroes as warriors to fight one another. It only ended with the signing of the Solitude Act stating that superhero organizations like the Legion would be unaligned to any government and would swear to not be influenced by their country of origins. Conflicts between countries would remain that and the deployment of superheroes was strictly forbidden in the theater of war. Every superhero organization gets its own city state as well as a home state.”

“I can’t imagine that would have really stuck if you had another three World Wars after that.”

Frostfire shrugged as he started up the small path to the cabin. “World War 4 wasn’t between countries, though. The Krellian Empire managed to infiltrate the Egyptian government, made alliances and used advanced technology to bump them up to a world superpower. Then they attacked to open the way for an invasion.” He then lifted five fingers. “World War 5 was caused by the destruction of the Space Elevator that was meant to transport things between Earth and the Lunar Colonies leading to the Moon declaring independence. World War 6 was caused by the war between us and the Virtuals.”

“Virtuals? As in artificial intelligence?”

He shook his head and explained how an increasing number of younger people at the time had become so disillusioned with the modern world that they preferred living in virtual worlds than reality. The development of completely interactive and virtual realities made that all the more tempting. When the government of the United Kingdom decided to ban the practice of entering those worlds and forcibly shut down a server that led to neural feedback that killed over ten thousand users at the time, things got out of hand. Protests quickly led to physical violence and since in those virtual realities, time could be dilated for those inside, technology advanced quickly.

“The Virtuals began making robotic bodies and suits. Surrogates they called them. Sent them out to protest and, eventually, battle. Flesh and blood won in the end and virtual realities were banned.”

Reaper exhaled loudly. “Wow… And here I am wondering why I’m so numb to world-ending disasters when you’ve been through six of them. Or at least this world is scarred enough to have endured six world wars.” He checked his phone again. “Okay, it says here that they left the keys behind the blue tulip.”

Frostfire found the potted plant in question - an obviously plastic blue tulip. Sure enough, behind the pot was a set of keys. “Found it.”

The interior of the cabin was genuinely cozy.

With lots of natural light including a skylight, the wooden architecture gave ‘hunting cabin’ vibes. The furniture was a mix of red, browns, oranges and generally warm colors. There was nothing metallic or artificial in the area. Even the kitchen was dominated by decorations that was predominantly wooden in appearance. The stove tops were covered in fireproof wooden laminate that gave the impression of being made out of cedar when, in reality, it was metallic. Even the refrigerator and microwave oven were covered in the same decor. Had he not known better, Frostfire would have guessed he had stepped into an elf’s home that really loved the idea of making everything out of a tree.

Immediately as they entered was the lounge room which consisted of large couches that were facing a fireplace. A television was mounted above the fireplace with its frame covered in a red and black plaid cloth to hide the harsh, black edges of the device. The lounge area dipped a little down to separate it from the dining area which had a full eight-seat table on it complete with cushioned chairs. Then there was the kitchen and beyond that, a hallway likely leading to the rooms.

Reaper wandered past the obvious rooms and went straight to the bedrooms.

“Uh… Sparkles. We’ve got a problem.”

Frostfire lifted an eyebrow and followed him. “What?”

He came up next to the wolf and froze.

“There’s only one bedroom,” replied Reaper. “And it has only a single bed.”

Sure enough, in the solitary bedroom was a large king-sized bed. The remaining rooms were reserved for the laundry and bathrooms. From where he stood, he could see that even the bathroom had one enormous jacuzzi tub that could easily fit a couple.

“Fuck me…” rumbled Frostfire, running a paw down his face. “Bet Odin thought this would be funny…”

“Or it was the only place available at the time,” Reaper said with a shrug. “You take the bed. I can just manifest a pocket dimension and sleep there.”

“You don’t have to,” Frostfire said, gently placing a paw on the wolf’s shoulder. “This is meant to be your holiday. Don’t go relying on your powers for something as stupidly mundane as a single bed. You’ll miss ‘the moment’. I can take the couch.”

Reaper gave him a pointed look. “I’ve slept in a literal gelatinous cube. I’ll take the couch.”

Not feeling like fighting for the point after two hours of driving, Frostfire held up his paws and said, “Let’s figure it out when we have to sleep. Let’s get the lay of the land.” His eyes roved the bedroom. “Bedroom is really exposed.” He pointed at the glass sliding door that had a clear view of the pier and lake. Though the area was fenced off, anyone could just easily jump over that fence and break into the bedroom. “Might be better to sleep in the tub.”

The wolf walked into the bedroom and entered the adjacent bathroom. Inside was the massive hot tub, a separate shower big enough to have a ledge where someone could sit down and a separate enclosed area for a toilet. The fact that there were two sinks beside one another only cemented the fact that this place was made for couples.

“Whatever apocalypse we’re meant to stop isn’t meant to occur for at least a few days,” said the Writer of Reality. “I suppose a few days sleeping in a tub wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Great,” Frostfire grunted. “I’ll go grab our stuff from the truck. You start casting your spells or whatever it is you can do to protect the place.”

Reaper threw him a look as he turned to leave. “Do you honestly think I’ve just got some magic wards or curses that’ll somehow keep evil away or something.”

“Do you?” asked the bear pointedly. He got a sidelong glance but no response. “Thought so.”

Frostfire returned to the truck and moved towards the pickup’s bed to retrieve their belongings. Though they had the place for the week, he had packed two whole bags of luggage. One contained his superhero costume and some other gear he needed to keep in touch with the Legion as well as supplies just in case he had to rescue more than himself. Knowing there were other civilians in the area meant that if there was an apocalypse coming, it would be negligent of him to assume that he would just be protecting himself. There was no doubt Reaper could handle himself and provide for them if needed but he needed to do something. The other bag was similarly filled with supplies and civilian clothing.

It was just as he was pulling off the luggage that he heard the rumble of a vehicle making its way up the road. He looked up to find a white SUV making its way towards them. Curious but also on edge, he watched as the vehicle parked some distance away. The driver was a tall lion with gray streaks through his mane. In the passenger seat was a lioness. As the two emerged from the car, the side doors also sprang open and out stepped a few others. Two lynxes - one male and one female - followed by a tiger. Standing out amongst the pack of felines was a monkey of the long-tailed variety. He seemed shy while the tiger stood protectively over him, even wrapping a meaty paw around his shoulder as the pack of felines made their way towards Frostfire.

“Good afternoon, neighbor,” greeted the lion with a broad, toothy smile, canines flashing. “We heard that someone had taken up residence in this cabin and thought it polite to just say hello.”

Frostfire nodded towards the man who held out a paw. He reached out and grabbed the man’s paw in a firm shake. The grip was strong but he felt like the man was holding back. The touch was also icy cold like he was touching the surface of a glacier with his bar paws.

“Pleasure,” he grunted.

“My name is Leopold Crowe,” said the lion. Releasing Frostfire’s paw, he gestured to the lioness beside him. “This is my wife, Elizabeth.”

The lioness with stark, crimson hair that had to be dyed offered a little curtsy even though she was wearing a slimming pair of jeans. “Nice to meet you.”

Leopold then gestured towards the two lynxes, introducing them as his niece and nephew, Scott and Alicia. Finally came the protective tiger and the young monkey. The towering feline who was built the biggest out of them all was called Everett Crowe, Leopold and Elizabeth’s son. The slim but athletic man Everett was guarding was Baxter Hawke.

“Nice to meet you all,” Frostfire said guardedly. “I’m Frostfire. Hero for Barewillow Creek.”

“We heard,” Elizabeth said, her voice like silk. “That is why we simply had to come over and meet a genuine hero.” Her smile was faint but genuine, her golden eyes glimmering. “We live across the lake and when we heard that we were getting an actual superhero to stay across from us, we simply had to come visit.” Her brow furrowed slightly in concern. “Though, I confess, I don’t think we’ve heard of you, Mr. Frostfire.”

“Just Frostfire,” answered the bear. “And I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m an F-Rank.”

Though he expected some snorts of derision or mockery, this family didn’t say or do anything and just seemed to stare a little stiffly at him. Except for Baxter who averted his gaze and seemed to do whatever he could to appear small and nondescript. Scenarios were already starting to form in his head on the young man’s behavior but he decided not to say anything yet.

“Do guys want to come in?” asked Frostfire, turning towards the cabin. “You can meet my… sidekick.”

“You have a sidekick?” asked Scott, his tone sounding like it came from the south. “Didn’t think F-Ranks got one.”

“He sort of… insisted.” Pulling his bags behind him, Frostfire made his way back to the cabin. Just as he reached it, the door sprang open and there was Jacob, looking like he was about to leave.

Reaper stopped in surprise. He had been looking downwards and doing so put his gaze level with Frostfire’s chest. One of his golden eyebrows rose and he let out a simple, “Nice.” As he brought his gaze back up he caught sight of crowd behind the hero.

“Oh…” he stated, his other eyebrow rising. “So that’s what we’re doing now?”

“What?” Frostfire asked, glancing over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Did you invite them in?”

“I mean… yeah…”

Reaper sighed and crossed his arms. “Really Sparkles? That’s the first thing you avoid when dealing with vampires.” He then leaned aside to regard the Crowes. “Unless you’re not the mystical type that go by all those archaic rules like needing to be invited across the threshold before you can enter or not being able to cross running water?”

Frostfire jerked back in surprise and spun towards the Crowes. The clowder of felines were now looking quite alarmed and surprised. His eyes then went towards Baxter and Everett. The big tiger had now pushed his ward behind him protectively… or perhaps to keep Baxter from being rescued.

“Now hold on,” Leopold said, holding up his paws. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Alicia then stepped forward, a subtle smile on the lynx’s features as she locked gazes upon Reaper. “You’re not from here, are you?” she asked.

Reaper offered a similarly enigmatic smile. “And you’re either clairvoyant or a mind reader.”

“Mind reader,” she answered. “When we were turned, we all were granted some supernatural ability.” She gestured towards her ‘brother’. “Scott is the clairvoyant. Beth can heal anyone with a drop of her blood. Leo can hide himself from any forms of detection. And Everett? He’s supernaturally strong even by our standards.”

Frostfire’s eyes drifted to Baxter. Only then did he noticed that everyone else amongst the Crowes had golden eyes while Baxter had softer, brown eyes. “And him? Is he your blood bag?”

“Not all vampires drink the blood of sapients,” Leo said with a hint of agitation in his voice. “Myself and my family make a point to only drink the blood of ferals.”

“Is it a Vitamin D deficiency or is there some sort of mystical reason to it?” Reaper asked. All the vampires turned towards him. For anyone else, the piercing gaze of those golden eyes would have been unnerving but Reaper met that scathing series of stares with a mix of curiosity and indifference. “Genuinely asking. If we’re walking into a vampire apocalypse I’m genuinely wondering if we can avert it all by pumping a shit tonne of money into Vitamin D supplement production or something.”

The wolf then glanced off towards the lake. “Though considering that we’re in the middle of the day and you’re not burning up, I’m assuming that the requirement to drink blood is caused by some other reason.” Then Reaper glanced back towards the Crowes. “Oh god… please don’t tell me you ‘sparkle’ when exposed to a lot of sunlight. That’s a dated joke even by my standards but I’d rather not deal with it.”

A cough came from Leopold. “I assure you, we do not.” He then glanced around cautiously. “If it’s all the same with you, can we discuss this inside? And for the record, we do not need your permission to step across the threshold of your home.”

“Because you own it?” Frostfire asked bluntly.

A little twinge of a smile crept across Leopold’s lips but it left as quickly as it appeared. “Yes. But also because that bit of vampire mythology was created by some ancient vampire to keep people from hanging garlic everywhere.” Before Frostfire could say anything, Leopold held up a finger. “And no, we are not repelled by garlic. We just have greater senses than most others and when you are exposed to excessive amounts of garlic, it is offensive to everyone.”

Reaper let out a little chuckle and folded is arms. “You know, my next question was actually going to be if vampires were secretly behind the Montreal Protocol so that the ozone layer could be restored. Your high sensitivity to everything including UV light could conceivably cause your flesh to burn.”

When he got no response, the wolf’s eyebrows fell back down in a concerned look. Frostfire’s wasn’t far behind.

“No shit…” grunted the superhero.

Scott suddenly let out a cough. “Can we please take this inside?” asked the male lynx with a gruff, gravelly tone.

Frostfire exchanged glanced with Reaper and the wolf’s features suddenly became cold and grave. Reaper stepped side. For his part, Frostfire turned towards the vampires and walked backwards through the door, making sure he was keeping his gaze upon them. The Crowes and their guest filed in, being so polite to wipe their feet on the doormat.

“So… are you aware that vampires exist in this world or is this news to you?” Reaper whispered softly to Frostfire as Baxter and Everett entered the cabin.

“We know,” responded Frostfire. “Dracula is actually a European superhero, part of the Unity. ‘Vampire’ is more a classification than an actual species. Any creature that actively goes around sucking the blood out of other people and whose bite is infectious is considered a vampire.”

“So zombies…?”

Frostfire held up a finger to correct the wolf. “They don’t suck out blood. They eat your flesh. Only if it sucks your blood is it a vampire.”

Everett let out a loud grunt as he pulled a seat out at the dining table. “We can hear you, you know,” he said loudly.

Baxter gave the big tiger a tired look and made a point to pull out his own seat and take it. That left the large, golden-eyed feline to let out a sigh and seat himself down on the seat he had clearly meant for the monkey.

“How about I make us something to drink?” Jacob said, approaching the gathering. He regarded Leopold directly, his eyes glowing lightly. Subtle enough for someone to notice if they knew what to look for, like Frostfire, but to others, it would just appear like a trick of the light. “Black coffee? Hazelnut creamer and two sugars.” Those same eyes turned towards Elizabeth. “A blood orange mimosa for the matriarch.” His gaze fell upon the ‘brother and sister’ lynxes that were Alice and Scott. “Coconut water for the two of you. Aaaaand…”

His turned his gaze towards Everett. “A beer for the big guy over there. Buddy Sour, if I’m not mistaken.” He smiled gently towards Baxter. “Just a soda for you. Though you’re legal, you’re afraid that getting intoxicated might just make you spill the beans that you’re dating a vampire.”

The Crowes were suddenly on edge and Baxter tilted his head curiously.

“Are you a superhero too?” asked the monkey.

“Oh no,” chuckled Reaper, approaching the table. With a simple wave of his paw, all the drinks he named appeared in front of those seated. The sudden appearance of the beverages increased the tension tenfold. Juxtaposed against the aroma emerging from Leopold’s coffee and the scene was almost comedic.

Frostfire allowed himself a little smirk as he subtly moved beside the Reaper, puffing out his chest so that he was as big and intimidating as possible.

Reaper hiked a thumb at the grizzly. “He’s the superhero.” Then he turned his thumb at himself. “I’m not.”

❖

* * * * *

Of all the apocalypses to begin with, Jacob had never thought that he would start with one that hit close to home. Though he had to admit that a vampire apocalypse was better than a zombie one. Vampires could at least be reasoned with.

Zombie consciousness was generally a hit or miss.

“So,” he started, “what’s the story here?”

Leopold, clearly tense, picked up the large cup of coffee in front of him. The lion brought it to his lips, took a deep breath and took a sip. His eyes lit up and his jaw went slack for a moment. “Astounding… This tastes incredible.”

“Thanks,” Jacob said with a shrug. “I figured that since you already said that you vampires have enhanced senses, I had to mitigate the taste somewhat and water it down or it would be a bit too strong.”

“Very considerate. Thank you.” Leopold set the cup back down. “To summarize, we are contractually obligated to introduce ourselves to you as the owners of this fine cabin that you have rented.” He frowned at Jacob. “We do try to avoid the obvious allusions to our very nature but we cannot help it if our tenants are incredibly perceptive and knowledgeable in the ways of vampirism.”

Jacob narrowed his gaze for a moment. Words were left unspoken and written between the lines of the script. He would have made for a poor Writer of Reality if he hadn’t detected them.

“I’ve got a vague idea of what Dracula can do,” Frostfire stated. “But he’s the exception. More powerful than the average vamp. Apparently there are different vampire clans and each of them specialize in different techniques and all have different strengths and weaknesses. You all benefit from above average physical characteristics when pumped up with blood, though.”

“That’s right,” Leopold said curtly, taking another sip of his coffee. “Apart from our enhanced senses, we are all stronger and faster than most others of this world. Some liken us to B-Class heroes.”

Jacob was only half-listening. His eyes drifted towards the mind reader, the lynx known as Alicia. They locked gazes and he decided to test a theory.

‘If you can really read my mind,’ he thought, ‘take a sip out of your coconut water and hold it there.’

The lynx didn’t hesitate and picked up the glass filled with the slightly murky water with crystal clear ice holding a metal straw in place. She gently wrapped her lips around the tip of the ice-cold straw, her unusually large fangs flashing as she took a delicate sip.

Contact made.

‘Alright. Now bat your eyes at me and flick your ears twice if this whole thing is based around some sort of vampire governing agency that is keeping track of your movements because they consider you dissenters or outcasts for refusing to drink sapient blood and they are the ones forcing you to go door-to-door to introduce yourselves in some sick way of tempting you to drink blood and expose yourselves.’

She tilted her head a little but that was it.

Interesting.

‘Is it some sort of reproductive thing?’

Only then did she smile, bat her eyes twice at him and flick her ears twice.

Jacob, who remained standing alongside Frostfire sucked in air between his own fangs and glanced over to Baxter. Already, the story was forming in his mind. How it related to a potential apocalypse or even some form of therapy for himself still eluded him but he decided that would reveal itself in time.

Frostfire continued his questioning. “So which clan do you belong to?”

Elizabeth gently rested her paw on her husband’s arm. “I think it best that we don’t say. We have already divulged enough as is.” She looked up to Frostfire pleadingly. “Please, trust us when we say that we mean you no harm. We simply believe that it is best to introduce ourselves and open ourselves to the possibility of you discovering our identities than you, a superhero, learning of us later down the line and misconstruing our intentions.”

“What are your intentions?” huffed the bear.

“Isolation,” Jacob stated bluntly. All eyes immediately turned to him. “You don’t want to be bothered. You just want to live your lives. But the clan that oversees you has other plans.”

Turning towards Frostfire, he said, “No matter what you think of them, everyone and everything is inherently programmed to reproduce and continue their evolutionary line. Some can overcome that desire or circumstances may drive them away from that path in life but we are all inherently capable of reproduction. The same goes for vampires.”

“Where are you going with this?” asked the grizzly though there were already gears turning in his head especially as his bright eyes briefly glanced over to Baxter.

“The Crowes do not want to make more vampires,” Jacob said, gesturing towards the gathered vampires. “But the clan leadership disagrees. Instead of purging them, however, I am willing to wager there is some sort of clan law or tradition that prevents them from destroying one another.”

Frostfire nodded grimly. “Vampires used to fight over territory until Dracula came out to the public and made the superhero community aware of their existence. There are a set of laws saying that no vampire can kill another vampire.” He turned his gaze back towards the Crowes. “The general public don’t know about the wider vampire population. They all think Dracula is the only one and, as a superhero, he’s sworn never to make other vampires. But the heroes know you exist and the only thing keeping you all in check is the looming threat that if any of you ever step out of line, every superhero could come bearing down on you with more force than you could ever muster. And Dracula would be on our side.”

Jacob held up a paw and gently pressed it against Frostfire’s chest, urging the bear to pull back on his threats. The Crowes were not a threat here. Judging by the sullen looks on their features, the vampires knew that they were cornered and at Frostfire’s mercy. A low-class superhero like Frostfire was still a superhero. Any hostility against him could, as the hero mentioned, cause a purge of their species.

Perhaps that was the apocalypse that was looming on the horizon.

No doubt there would be sympathetic heroes to the vampire’s cause. More than one villain would succumb to the temptation of near immortality. Low ranking heroes could get a significant boost to their abilities if they suddenly had a vampire’s strength and durability. Frostfire had already established that while superpowers granted one supernatural strength, it did not inherently grant a person enhanced physical capabilities.

Being a vampire did.

“So here is my theory,” Jacob said, facing the Crowes once more. “Your vampire clan can’t kill you. They want to make more vampires. You refuse to do so for your own reasons. So they trap you here, a tourist spot with a summer camp and properties for people to spend a few days in. All fairly isolated but close enough that interacting with you wouldn’t be that much of an inconvenience. In fact, they even force you to make introductions to the people here under the guise of the wealthy property owners greeting the newcomers. Neighborly stuff.” His eyes narrowed, gazing from one face to the other. “They never said you should introduce yourselves as vampires. But if any of them were to guess or get close enough, though, the lure of immortality and supernatural powers would call to them…”

Only then did his eyes settle on the other non-vampire in the room: Baxter Hawke.

“… and they would ask you to turn them.”

Frostfire let out a little growl. His fists were starting to emit a cold aura, a light cloud of chilling mist emanating from his knuckles.

“You are oversimplifying what’s really, really complicated,” Baxter said immediately.

“Don’t tell me it’s because of love,” Frostfire snarled.

A fiery stare was exchanged between the two. Surprising how someone was comparatively fragile as Baxter could hold a staring contest against Frostfire.

Jacob, however, ignored the exchange as he quickly pieced together the potential scenario that could lead to an apocalypse. Within moments, he understood how this interaction could set out the metaphorical powder keg that could end the world. A tenuous peace amongst vampire clans. A tightrope of freewill and intrigue amongst immortals. The hormonal desires of a twenty-something man.

“Is there anywhere that you aren’t being actively monitored by your clan?” he asked suddenly, interrupting a heated exchange between Frostfire and Baxter. In his musing, he had completely missed when Baxter had gotten out of his seat and was staring daggers at Frostfire. Everett had already stood and was placing himself between the two.

“We prefer if you do not talk of the Sanguintiir as ‘our clan’,” Scott hissed, his lips curling into a scowl to show off his fangs. “They may lord over us but they are not our clan.”

“Sorry,” Jacob apologized genuinely. “But my question stands. I’m hoping that they would at least offer you some sort of privacy? I doubt they’ll watch you constantly but the reason you wanted to speak inside is that with your clairvoyance…” He nodded towards Scott. “… and your mind reading…” He glanced over to Alice. “You can detect them if they were watching. But detection is different from prevention. If they caught you colluding with a superhero, I have no doubt they would try to pressure you to turning Frostfire. Or they might even turn him themselves.”

Elizabeth gave Jacob an exhausted but relieved sigh. “I am so glad you understand.”

“Understand, yes. Sympathize? No.” He crossed his arms. “I’m sure each of you has your own reasons for entering this immortal pact. I withhold my sympathy until I can fully understand your motivations.”

“Wise,” Leopold sighed. After a moment, he nodded and said, “Our home. The Sanguintiir agreed that they would not monitor or watch us within the confines of our own property. Everywhere else is fair game, however.”

That begged the question: if Baxter was tied up in all this and had discovered the existence of vampires, why was he even wandering around under the Crowe’s protection. Logically, it would be safer to have him holed up within the Crowe property lines instead of wandering around where he could be noticed. No doubt there was some law against keeping a non-initiated around.

“There is,” Alice said suddenly, giving Jacob a delicate smile. “But the laws of the Sanguintiir are more like… guidelines. Promises are easy to break but consequences are seldom irreversible. Baxter is our guest.”

Jacob opened his muzzle to make a witty quip when Frostfire spoke.

“And I’m guessing there must be some sort of timeline or reason why you haven’t turned him yet or outright killed him?”

The No One gave his much larger companion a sidelong glance and wondered if they had been thinking along the same lines. It brought some comfort that they were at least on the same wavelength in this regard. Then he wondered whose mind Alicia had been reading.

“That is a private matter,” Everett rumbled evasively.

Baxter rolled his eyes and when he did so, he rolled his entire head. The simian got to his feet and slammed his hands on the table. “God, Everett. They already know. Why are you still insistent on hiding so much!?” He gestured towards Jacob and Frostfire. “They’re superheroes! They could help us! They know Dracula.”

Frostfire’s bravado dipped and he lowered his gaze. “I know of Dracula. I don’t actually know him.”

Jacob decided to bite back a quip about knowing countless Draculas across countless realities and timelines but he didn’t know the Dracula of this reality. The brief glance Alicia shot him was filled with confusion but her features quickly wiped away the expression and she went back to delicately sipping her coconut water. That did confirm, however, that she was actively scraping his mind.

Just as a form of defense, he applied a scrambling effect around his thoughts. Anyone reading them would get the psychic equivalent of the entirety of War and Peace assaulting them all at once in the original Russian. Not word by word or chapter by chapter. The entirety of it in blasted per second.

Alicia immediately recoiled and coughed a little. Scott gave her a puzzled look but she waved him away. The drama between Baxter, Everett and Frostfire quickly wiped away her reaction.

“Doesn’t matter,” Baxter insisted. “We’re in a stalemate and we need a few extra votes.” He then turned his impassioned brown eyes towards the two. “Look, here’s the deal.” Raising a hand towards his chest, he said, “I want to become a vampire. I love Everett. But he won’t turn me.”

“It would prove the Sanguintiir right and put our family in danger,” Everett growled. “Worse yet, we don’t know how the transformation will affect you.”

Jacob glanced towards Frostfire for clarification. The grizzly explained as best he could from the Legion’s understanding.

Vampires were divided into clans and those divisions were not based on country of origin, nationality or even military loyalty. It was based on capability. There were vampires out there whose bodies became pale as the moonlight and whose hair or scales became silver. Others transformed into ghoulish creatures with rake-like fingers, sharpened teeth and lost all hair or scales on their bodies. Another clans became more bat like. Then there were those clans who gained supernatural powers.

“When a vampire tries to turn another sapient, chances are that sapient would turn into the same type of vampire as the originating vampire,” Frostfire said, folding his meaty arms. “But I’ve heard that it’s not a genetic thing. It’s mental. Emotional. Something about how all vampires spawned from Dracula and in order to avoid other vampires from growing as strong as him, Dracula gave out powers in piecemeal, never giving any vampire all of his abilities. These abilities eventually spread into the other clans.”

Jacob cupped his chin thoughtfully. As his eyes dulled to their usual dark blue color that was nearly black, he considered this new information. A picture was forming. There was no need to use his Eyes of Chaos. The connections were already being laid out before him.

“So theoretically,” he concluded, pointing to the golden eyed tiger, “if Everett were to turn Baxter, he would have to do it with full commitment. Any fragment of doubt could be catastrophic.”

“The turning of one guy can’t possibly lead to an apocalypse,” Frostfire stated, looking a little bemused. Serious but bemused. Baxter had an indignant look on his face; he couldn’t believe someone who was dedicated to public service would make light of his plight. Everett, similarly, looked quite peeved which only cemented his dedication to Baxter. Alicia was the only one who looked disturbed amongst the Crowes as she no doubt probed into Frostfire’s mind. Little smiles were thrown across the other members of the Crowes as they took the bear’s statement at face value; as a hyperbole.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jacob responded, his expression grim. “Consider all the pieces on the board.” Gesturing towards the Crowes, he said, “This family here are considered exiles to the rest of the Sanguintiir. They have been placed in what is effectively a gilded cage. A property out in the middle of nowhere far from major population densities but also a key tourist location. They have been given authority and stewardship of the tourist sites from the summer camp and to these cabins. They are forced to make introductions to anyone who comes here and are not allowed to reject or deny any accusations that they are vampires even though they can be as evasive as possible. All because they refuse to drink sapient blood. They are being mocked by the Sanguintiir and given a bizarre ultimatum.”

“Drink sapient blood and break your personal vow proving you’re no better than them or risk the secrecy of the vampires,” Frostfire concluded. “I get that. But it’s hardly world-ending.”

Lifting a finger, to silence anyone else from interrupting, he continued. “Right but now consider Baxter’s situation. He has discovered that Everett is a vampire and fallen in love with him. Everett, I assume, reciprocates those feelings.”

The large tiger lifted his head defiantly. “Of course I do,” he growled with fierce certainty. A small smile appeared across Baster’s features.

“So now either Everett turns Baxter out of love, proving the Sanguintiir right and therefore giving them ammunition to coerce the Crowes into joining the rest of the clan in spreading or he doesn’t and their love endures for as long as Baxter’s natural lifespan.” He waved a paw absently through the air. “There are alternatives out of that, of course. Everett could kill himself after Baxter passes away or Baxter could dedicate himself to finding some way to become ageless but that’s not the point.”

Jacob crossed his arms and locked gazes with the monkey in front of him. “Baxter wants to become a vampire. It’s his choice. By the rules of the Sanguintiir, there should be nothing keeping the Crowes from turning Baxter. But Everett is struggling between his loyalty to his personal oath and his love. That fragment of doubt could be the key to causing Baxter to turn into a vampire of a different clan. In which case, he will then be forced to go to that rival clan and then they would have to spend eternity in what is effectively a Romeo and Juliet romance.”

“And we all know how that ended,” Scott huffed. That one statement brought a scathing glare from Everett. The lynx just returned the stare while addressing Jacob. “You’ve summarized the situation very well, pup. My dearest brother is at an impasse while the Sanguintiir are watching us, drumming their fingers because no matter what happens, they win.”

Frostfire ran a paw down his muzzle. “And probably causing some sort of vampire civil war… which would become an arms race. Who can turn the most sapients to fill their ranks.”

“That is an exaggeration,” Leopold said gently. “I am sure that the clan leaders and Dracula himself would never allow that.”

“Dracula barely does anything with the clans,” snarled the grizzly. “Yeah, he’s the most powerful individual vampire out there but if an all-out vampire war were to happen, the first thing any of them will do is either try to get him on their side or take him out. Against entire clans, even Dracula won’t be able to stop any collateral damage.”

Jacob lifted a paw, waving down the apocalyptic scenario. “We can worry about that if and when it happens.” He leveled his gaze at Baxter. “You mentioned there was some sort of vote involved?”

The monkey nodded fiercely. “The family is divided on how we should proceed. Half agree to turn me. It’s my choice.”

“And the other half don’t think it’s a good idea,” countered Everett.

“Aren’t there just five of you?” asked Frostfire.

Elizabeth smiled gently towards Baxter. “We already consider Bax as one of our own. So it is three against three.” Her golden eyes turned to Jacob and Frostfire. “We have been in this stalemate all summer. We cannot simply ask others to opine without knowing the full story and the stakes. But since you deduced all of this in record time…” She said that last statement with a worried tone.

Jacob mentally kicked himself for unraveling the mystery quickly. Maybe if he had kept his muzzle shut, they wouldn’t even be involved in this potential apocalypse. At the same time, he had to begrudgingly admire the overlord AI that was overseeing this reality. Using his own nihilism against him to trigger involvement was clever.

“So I’m guessing you want us to help you cast the deciding vote,” Frostfire summarized. “You realize there are two of us. We could both just get to another stalemate.”

“But it’s a better chance to end it than we’ve been for months,” insisted Baxter, almost pleadingly. “Please. You’ve got to let me be turned.”

Frostfire took a step back, holding up his paws. “Kid, I barely know you. This is all a lot to dump on someone you’ve literally just met.”

An ironic statement and yet very on-brand for Frostfire who had cosmic revelations bombard him not too long ago.

“And as I said,” answered the No One, “I’m reserving my judgment until I know more.” He gestured at Leopold. “Why don’t we take a break? Let the two of us digest what we’ve just learned. Discuss this somewhere that your jailers can’t possibly hear of this. You mentioned that your home is somewhere we can’t be monitored?”

The lion nodded. “Yes. Why not come over this evening for dinner?” He flashed his fangs. “And I assure you, neither of you are on the menu.”

The rest of the Crowes showed their own loving groans at Leopold’s very obvious dad joke. Elizabeth rolled her eyes while her paw drifted over Leopold’s caressing the back of his paw affectionately. Alicia sighed heavily, a pleasant smile on her features. Scott looked exasperated but mirrored the smile on his twin sister’s face. Baxter’s shoulders sagged but there was this longing smile on his face like he dearly wished to feel that level of exasperation for all eternity. Everett grimaced and turned away though there was the fainted tilt to his muzzle to indicate that he was fighting back a smile.

“Great,” Jacob answered with his own matching smirk. “I’ve always wanted to do an interview with a vampire.”

That got a very audible groan.

❖

* * * * *

The Crowes’ home was dripping with irony. No walls separated them from the rest of the world or any onlookers with their the only indication that anyone had crossed onto their property line being a wrought iron arch at the road decorated by many black, iron crows. Dense trees and undergrowth flanked the well-maintained road leading up to the home where the foliage abruptly cut off and gave way to a highly manicured and maintained rock garden. No trees, bushes or plants dominated the front yard. It consisted entirely out of black, red or white rocks arranged artfully and with care. Black iron sculptures depicting some abstract humanoid figure decorated a central feature garden. Each of these sculptures faced a white marble fountain that flowed with crystal clear waters.

The home itself was a three story… ‘facility’. Blocky, artificial and in open defiance to nature, everything about it screamed for attention. All of the outer walls were made out of reinforced glass that could be frosted out at a push of a button. Otherwise, they gave an unobstructed view of the lavished interior.

Even from where he stood, Frostfire could see the expensive, modern furniture that looked more showy than practical or comfortable. Some of the windows were shaped to appear like honeycombs which worked well with the sandy-colored floors and ceilings. The steps leading up to the main door were even decorated to appear like a tessellation made out of black and white crow feathers to add to the ‘crow’ motif the vampire family had adopted.

To the uninitiated, it seemed like a whole lot of extravagance that snubbed all the natural wonder around them. But to Frostfire, who had seen this level of indoctrination before, understood that it was a depressing message given the form of modern architecture.

“Whoever designed this place couldn’t decide on a theme,” Reaper commented, crossing over the last step onto the patio of the mansion. In his paws was a large tray where three flavors of Swiss Rolls sat. The No One had spent the afternoon making them while Frostfire had consulted Odin and the Legion.

“What do you mean?” asked Frostfire, tugging at the sports jacket he had thrown over his superhero battle uniform. Reaper had insisted he at least try to to appear so ready for a fight so Frostfire had donned the jacket alongside some civilian clothes which was a size too big just so that he could squeeze his bulk into it on top of his uniform. “I think the message is pretty clear.”

His icy eyes turned to regard the architecture once more. Beside the big, black doors in front of him were two pillars. The columns which held up the roof of the patio sprang from the backs of two, large, marble lions.

“This place is a prison,” he commented. “The honeycomb design? The lack of privacy from the outside? The fact that every inch of the front yard is filled with rocks and has no plants? All oppressive symbolism to remind the people inside that they are being watched and to obey the rules.”

Reaper gave him a lifted eyebrow. “I got that. But when you look at the right side of the home, it’s all square and blocky. To the left, it’s all hexagons and tessellations. The house is mostly glass when everything past the front door is marble and rock. No cohesion. Like multiple people designed it.”

“Maybe that was the idea,” Frostfire mused. The bear reached up and knocked on the door. Not a moment later, the very same door sprang open and Baxter was there to greet them.

“You made it,” exclaimed the simian. His eyes widened at the tray Jacob held. “And you brought dessert.”

“Just something I whipped up,” replied Reaper with a shrug. Baxter stepped aside, allowing them to step in. Frostfire cast one more glance over his shoulder before entering the mansion.

Immediately, the heat of the air hit him hard. Even this far north, the air was typically fairly mild. Inside the Crowe’s mansion, however, it was like he had crossed over to the tropics. Beneath his thick fur and two layers of clothing, he was already starting to sweat.

His discomfort was very obvious to Baxter. “Sanguintiir vampires tend to be naturally cold. No blood in their veins except the ones they drink. The Crowes keep it pretty warm in here.”

“You’re not originally from around here, are you?” Frostfire asked, immediately triggering his powers to keep himself a little cooler. Though his suit would help regulate his body heat, he needed instant relief and a small mist of water vapor seeped out of him.

Reaper grimaced and regarded the tray of desserts. “Yeah… these things don’t do well in the heat. Can I put this somewhere cool?”

“Sure,” Baxter said. “Follow me to the kitchen.”

Frostfire followed after, taking note of the decor. Contrasting against the exterior which tended to appear cold, spartan and reminiscent of one of those ‘modern’ prisons that emphasized rehabilitation, the interior was warmer and had more natural decorations. The furniture was still quite angular but the presence of fur skin carpets, mounted antlers and framed pictures of the Crowes in various locales. He thought he recognized some place in Europe on one of them.

They crossed the broad, open foyer into the kitchen. Elizabeth was there, preparing a meal. The smell or roasted meat wafted through the air. Crisp, savory vegetables mingled with the herbs. A knife in hand, she was chopping some lettuce for some salad. Her golden eyes lit up as the trio approached.

“You made it,” she exclaimed. “Did you find the way easily enough?” Seeing the tray in Reaper’s paws, she set down her knife and headed over. “And here, let me put that in the fridge for you.”

“This place was hard to miss,” Frostfire grunted, watching the exchange closely. Her supple fingers took the tray from Reaper’s paw. She was careful not to touch him. “Even if we didn’t find the road, we could have made it here easily. The Sanguintiir really put you on a pedestal.”

“Like a lighthouse,” Jacob chimed in. “You can see this place from almost every corner of the Lake. And if you can’t, the light on the pier will make people ask questions.”

She offered a delicate smile as she turned to place the rolls in a nearby fridge. The moment she thought that she was hiding her features, she smile dropped and a sadness entered her eyes.

“That was their intention,” she answered. “You both deduced exactly what the Sanguintiir planned. For us who never wanted to recruit anyone else into the Sanguintiir, this is the worst kind of prison.”

Imprisoned within the confines of the mansion while acting as a massive recruitment poster for the Sanguintiir. The punishment was as ironic as it was cruel.

“Are you even allowed you leave?” asked Frostfire. “What are the limits of your incarceration?”

Elizabeth placed the tray in the fridge, closed the door and then turned back around with that gentle smile on her face. It was a practiced mask and one that would have been convincing if Frostfire hadn’t known better. “We can roam anywhere within about fifty miles from our mansion but no farther.”

“Do they have some sort of ankle monitor on you or something?” Reaper asked. “Or is there some sort of vampire special ability that keeps you on lock down?”

She went back to cutting the vegetables. “My husband can tell you more. However, the Sanguintiir constantly sends patrols to check up on us. We’ve skirted the limits of that range every now and then when we have to hunt but they are not as strict as to punish us for stepping a toe out of the borders.”

“You hunt?” Frostfire asked, narrowing his gaze.

“Each of the Crowes have a preference for which prey they hunt,” answered Baxter quickly. “Scott thinks that the reason each member of the clan gets different powers is because of the kind of blood they consume.” He smiled towards Elizabeth. “Beth here prefers the blood of mountain lions. Leopold goes for stags. It always has to be a stag. Not a doe. Just stags.” He lifted a finger as he was counting off names. “Scott hunts badgers. Alicia goes for owls. Everett prefers bears.”

A little chill ran down Frostfire’s spine at that last word. He could swear that he felt the glare of the biggest Crowes on his jugular. Part of him had to wonder if the Crowes’ supernatural abilities were somewhat subdued because they drank the blood of ferals instead of sapients.

“And what about the other members of the Sanguintiir?” Reaper asked.

Baxter shrugged and shook his head helplessly. The rumbling voice of Everett came from an adjacent door as the enormous tiger appeared.

“They say they aren’t picky but I know that they hunt specific sapients as well.” The enormous tiger approached silently despite his bulk and hovered over Baxter’s shoulder. There was a very distinct gap between them. Almost like Everett was afraid to even touch the primate.

“So they’re not just vampires but they’re vampire racists?” Reaper quipped.

Everett gave the wolf a foul stare. “Not like that. They’re after specific traits. Like sapients that are a specific height. Have certain eye colors. Of a specific build. Some of the more powerful apparently prefer ‘stock’ of a particular lineage.”

“So vampire eugenicists.”

Frostfire bought back a smirk. It was nice not to have to be on the receiving end of Reaper’s barbs and scathing observations for once. Having been jabbed by them before, however, he knew that he needed to diffuse the situation before Everett did something he would regret. “How do you learn what you ‘like’?”

Everett shrugged. “You just know. It’s in the smell. The taste. You just… feel attracted to it. Drawn to it. Like it’s air and you’ve been holding your breath.” The tiger’s golden eyes turned briefly to Baxter before he looked away and regarded Reaper again. “Even if you were bleeding out right now, I wouldn’t drink a drop.”

Reaper glanced off to the side, his arms crossed and his eyes briefly glowing blue. Afterwards, he shook his head, removing the glow from his gaze. “That makes sense…”

“It does?” Frostfire asked.

“Yeah.” The wolf’s eyes locked with his. Reaper’s features were grim, calculating. “Think about it. How do you cause a vampire apocalypse in a world of superheroes?” He began counting off reasons with his fingers. “Superheroes have a wide variety of powers and abilities. They are trained from when their powers are discovered on how to make the best of their abilities. Even villains found new ways to evolve and adapt. Look at Ma Brandy.”

A shiver ran down Frostfire’s spine. Just the thought of being under that woman’s control left a bitter taste in his muzzle. “I see what you mean. The Legion alone could probably destroy a regular horde of vampires. I’ve heard of raids sanctioned by Dracula and authorized by the clans that have wiped out entire rogue cells.”

“Right,” Reaper mused. “Probably to contain a potential outbreak. If a superhero were ever to turn and spread the vampiric influence, you’d have superheroes who have the additional benefits of vampires.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s where the apocalypse comes from. Superheroes getting infected.”

Baxter switched his stare from Frostfire and Reaper multiple times. “You two have talked about a ‘vampire apocalypse’ over and over again. What aren’t you telling us?”

Reaper regarded Frostfire, canting an ear to indicate that the superhero should take the lead. Seeing no reason to hold back, Frostfire agreed to explain. However, to save on time, he decided that he should explain it to the entire Crowe family. Baxter agreed to at least wait that long and led them to a dining area.

Like the other rooms in the mansion, it was a wide open space with any walls facing the exterior made completely out of glass. Casual onlookers would agree that the high ceilings and breathtaking view of the forests and distant lake was the height of luxury. In reality, it was extremely exposed and Frostfire felt his skin crawl just stepping out onto the room like he could feel the bead of a sniper’s laser sight on his forehead.

A large, circular, wooden table sat at the far corner of the room and it was there that Elizabeth was setting the table. Alice and Scott were seated on the opposite corner next to one of those modern fireplaces that looked like a porcelain teardrop hanging from the ceiling. The plush, brown, leather couch they sat upon was a stark contrast against the saccharine and white architecture. Leopold was already seated at the table, reading something on his phone.

As they entered, the Crowe patriarch stood up from where he was seated. “Ah, you made it.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear us approach,” Frostfire growled. “Vampires have better senses than the rest of us, right? You probably overheard what we said in the kitchen. Three of you have used the same damn greeting as well. It’s goddamn creepy.”

A little smile came across Leopold’s features. “Yes but I thought it would help offer some comfort to have a… normal greeting.”

“It doesn’t. Don’t try it again.”

Leopold’s features turned cold and he sat back down. “Understood. Shall we eat and discuss your fears of a ‘vampire apocalypse’?”

Without needing further prompting, Scott and Alice got up from where they were seated and made their way towards their seats around the table. Everett and Baxter did the same while Elizabeth took up her position next to her husband. Reaper and Frostfire at beside one another.

The food was distinctly vegetarian. The smell of tofu, artificial meat and all forms of protein substitutes filled the air with an almost oppressive aroma of burnt rubber. There were lots of lush greenery and fresh or grilled vegetables to be had but seeing the fake meats almost made Frostfire wish for one of his protein bars.

“I appreciate the spread,” Reaper said, serving himself some ‘chicken’. “Having immersed myself in lobsters swimming in butter, something as refreshing like this is actually very welcome. My compliments to the chef.”

Elizabeth batted her eyes at him. “I admit that the choice has a practical reason to it. Given how we refuse to drink the bloods of sapients, even a trace of any blood can leave us somewhat… starved.”

“Don’t you hunt?” Frostfire grunted, prodding the ‘meat’ on his place hesitantly.

“We do. But you can imagine we cannot exactly hunt every day. If far too animals go missing far too often, the population will thin out and we will find ourselves scavenging.”

There was certainly a double meaning to that statement. Placed in the context that this compound was the Crowes’ prison, Frostfire guessed that the Crowes were forced to ration themselves when hunting the nearby animals. If they lost their only source of nourishment, they might just go rabid and raid the summer camp or any of the other rental properties. Perhaps the entice the Crowes further, the Sanguintiir purposefully populated the surrounding area with sapients that the Crowes might fight ‘attractive’. Perhaps that was where Baxter came into play. Bait for the rebels.

A cruel and and malicious trap.

Reaper noticed that he wasn’t eating. “I thought you’d be all about processed proteins, Sparkles,” the wolf taunted. “You basically lived off protein bars. Some ‘Better than Meat’ surely wouldn’t hurt.”

The grizzly growled at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” Reaper speared a slice of the fake chicken with a fork and brought it to his muzzle, chewing at it without hesitation. “Would you prefer if it was fish?” he asked while chewing. He flicked his fork at Frostfire’s place and, without even a second to transition, the pale, rubbery and far too glossy slab of protein in front of him suddenly transformed into the most succulent slice of white fish meat that had the perfect amount of striations and meatiness that the bear was instantly drooling. That offensive rubbery smell was immediately replaced by the salty-sweet scent of fish drizzled with just the right amount of lemon juice, freshly cracked pepper and herbs.

The Crowes and Baxter all flinched at the sudden transformation.

“Fish?” Frostfire asked, wiping the his muzzle with the back of his paw.

“Swordfish to be exact,” said the wolf, popping a few bites of salad into his muzzle. “Grilled with a spritz of yuzu and generously dusted with salt and pepper. Nice and simple. Thought you would appreciate it. Not to mention the way it is cooked, you won’t have a trace of hemoglobin so as to not offend our hosts.”

Elizabeth frowned at him. “That’s… incredibly considerate of you. Though I have to ask… Do you have the power to conjure and transform food? Is that your superpower?”

“Oh no,” Reaper answered, still happily munching on his meal. It was then that Frostfire realized that no one else was eating except him. “Though I suppose that allows us to segue into the topic of vampire apocalypses.”

He lifted his gaze from his plate, locking it with the vampire.

“I can rewrite all of reality.”

A few short seconds passed with Frostfire gripping his utensils tightly, ready for a fight.

“So you can turn me into a vampire?”

The question that broke the silence was not what he had been expecting. His eyes turned to Baxter with the simian regarding Jacob intensely. The man had a one-track mind. Running through all the various scenarios that he had drilled into his mind in all his years of lonely boredom watching over Barewillow Creek, Frostfire typified Baxter Hawke as a particularly dangerous civilian stereotype.

‘Obsessive Superfan’.

Someone who craved power or someone who wanted to inject themselves into the lives of those with superpowers without any consideration for the consequences.

“Yes,” Reaper answered curtly. “I can make it so that you were always a vampire. I can rewrite history so that you were actually a Civil War veteran that was bitten by Dracula himself as a sign of valor. I can make you Dracula if you wanted.” Then his dark blue eyes drifted over to Everett. “But what few people realize about the instant gratification that comes from having your greatest wishes come true is the consequences of such a change of fate.”

“What consequences?” Baxter demanded, suddenly getting to his feet. “Just make me a vampire. Get rid of all of this drama. Everett doesn’t have to bite me. There’s no risk about me turning into a vampire of another clan. We don’t give any satisfaction to the Sanguintiir and prove them right. We skip over all that! It’s the perfect solution!”

“Is it?” Reaper asked enigmatically but also with a blunt edge that made Baxter pause.

The monkey took a second to consider the question but then shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

Definitely an Obsessive Superfan.

Even without watching him, Frostfire knew that Reaper was turning to Everett and he did the same. The big tiger looked stoically at Baxter, his supposed love, with a cold, hard stare. A mix of emotions was storming behind the feline’s golden eyes. It did not take a genius to understand that Baxter’s conflict clearly affected him too. Either the impulsive primate was just too self-absorbed to notice or just didn’t care.

Baxter followed their gaze and locked eyes with Everett. “Ev,” he sighed. “What is the problem? This would solve everything.”

“It would,” answered the tiger evenly.

Frostfire was waiting for a continuation of that sentence but when nothing came out of it and there was just a long, awkward silence, he visibly slumped into his chair. He immediately joined Reaper in eating his food, realizing that was the smartest thing to do at the moment.

The swordfish was delicious.

“Can we get back to the fact that we have a Reality Bender in the room?” asked Scott, showing some irritation. Reaper’s ears perked up. “What level of reality manipulation are you capable of, exactly?”

Reaper’s eyes lit up, his ears perked and attentive. “Ooooh. There are levels? Do tell.”

Frostfire grunted between bites of the deliciously moist but flaky swordfish. “There are four.”

Classifying Reality Benders had always been difficult particularly for those who could alter memories and time itself. However, over the years and with the help of both supernatural entities and superheroes, the classification matrix had been established. The Prime Reality Constant helped detect any deviations from the understood reality. A Reality Bender’s level was based on how much they could change reality against the constant.

The first level really was just most superheroes. When measured against the PRC, most superheroes - even Frostfire - were a big deviation. Barring the biological constraints of his powers, no one should be able to generate ice or fire and hurl it at whim. The PRC asked questions like why the blasts of fire he unleashed from his feet to propel him through the air didn’t generate enough thrust to simulate flight when someone of his size and weight ordinarily would need immense energy to do so. Why was the ice that he generated stay solid and not melt for so long even in temperatures that would normally see it instantly reduce to vapor?

The second level were supernatural beings or superheroes who, while constrained by rules, could still do something that could often defy the established rules of reality to a limited effect. This classification often fell to individuals who could unleash spectacular displays of power or ability despite previously documented limitations. Even something as unleashing one final attack in an act of desperation or somehow continuing to fight despite being battered and bruised to the point where normal people would have fallen fell into this category. In essence, superheroes or villains who could somehow consistently use the power of their ‘heart’, ‘will’ or ‘spirit’ to change the world fell into this category.

The third level fell in the realms of probability manipulation. The ability to modify fate itself. While extremely rare, there were several heroes and villains out there that were basically untouchable thanks to this power. They could rarely fully control this power as it had to still be within the realms of possibility. Even something as ridiculous as somehow avoiding being shot by a firing squad because, at that time, a meteor shower rained down at the very exact spot and somehow intercepted every bullet that was hurtling at the individual could easily be classified in this level.

The fourth and last level fell upon those that could manipulate objects and cause changes into the rules of reality itself. The ability to alter memory, transform objects and manifest energy and matter without consequence was extremely rare and highly sought out by every organization out there. Often times, individuals who possessed a certain power just because they had it and no other reason fell into this category. By far the rarest of them all, Level 4 Reality Benders were highly regulated and whenever one was discovered, they were studied to understand the limits of their power and their effect on the Prime Reality Constant.

“Huh,” Reaper began. “So I guess I’m a Level 4 then?”

As loathed as Frostfire was to divulge this information, there was no avoiding it. “No.”

The wolf frowned, setting down his cutlery in exasperation. “Please don’t tell me I’m a Level 3. I know I have an affinity with the number three but that’s just a little heavy handed.”

“No,” Frostfire. “You are beyond all that. You are unclassified.”

The No One’s frown deepened. “I’m flattered.”

Scott scoffed derisively. “Bullshit.”

Alice elbowed him lightly.

“It’s true,” Frostfire said grimly, locking gazes with the blond haired wolf. “You are beyond the classification. Because despite all the things you’ve done to change reality, you missed changing something.”

One of Reaper’s ears folded in curiosity. “I did…?”

“Yes. The Prime Reality Constant never changed.”

It took Reaper a whole ten seconds to realize what that meant and his eyes widened. “Oh… Oh shit. It never changed it because I wasn’t aware that thing existed… So all this time, the Legion has been monitoring me, knowing what I’ve been doing and never saw a shift in that constant…” He let out a little snort. “That must have freaked them out.”

Frankly, Frostfire was surprised that Odin had taken the news so calmly. A Reality Bender who could freely manipulate the universe at whim and not change the PRC simply because he was not aware of it was both frightening and dangerous. It not only displayed Reaper’s unbridled power but also his limitation. The wolf was still very much mortal. If he missed something, the consequences could be dire and far reaching.

Not that he couldn’t change it afterwards but that didn’t stop it from happening… at least to him. If anything, it would only contribute to his mental instability if he bore the guilt of ruining the world and having to undo it while no one else remembered.

“What has this got to do with us?” Baxter demanded. Now he was standing protectively over Everett. “And what does this have to do with this supposed ‘vampire apocalypse’?”

Frostfire likewise stood, looming over the simian. “I won’t sit here and bother you with the exposition. Treat the two of us as superheroes from the Legion that just happen to run into whatever it is you’re going through.” He gestured at himself and Reaper. “We’ve come across some information that something here could cause a potential apocalypse. We don’t know exactly what. We’re theorizing it could be a vampire apocalypse.”

“At the same time, it could just as easily be a reawakening of eldritch creature that was defeated at this very site,” Reaper chimed in.

“We don’t know,” agreed the bear with a nod. “We’re working with what we have. Right now though, it looks like that you could all be a trigger for something bigger.”

“Why?” Baxter pressed. “Why us?”

Frostfire thought back to his training and all the scenarios that he had worked through in the years that he had been stuck at Barewillow Creek. Particularly the chapters about dealing with self-centered, whiny, emotionally charged individuals who thought the universe revolved around them. It was very easy for individuals who did not develop superpowers that suddenly found themselves in some sort of supernatural event to feel entitled or empowered. Baxter likely felt this way when being pulled into the world of vampires by the Crowes. Now that he had two superheroes with him, that likely inflated his sense of self-importance.

Frostfire still found it annoying.

“From my assessment,” replied the bear in a flat, professional tone, “the Crowes have been in this situation for years. Decades, perhaps. If I were to guess, none of you have ever found the need to induct a new member into the ‘family’ since you’ve been here. While you were effectively imprisoned here by the Sanguintiir, you were nonetheless content. Someone disrupted the status quo and now you find yourself on a precarious situation where turning Baxter would prove the Sanguintiir right and could tip the balance in their political behavior. Refusing could destroy the burgeoning love between the one vampire amongst the Crowes that has not found a mate and the one man clever enough to see the Crowes for what they are and not flee or alert the authorities.”

Reaper smirked and regarded Everett with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m genuinely curious. How blue are you balls right now?”

Frostfire smacked the back of the wolf’s head with a paw. “If we take a world view on this, a conflict here could easily spill onto the world stage. The Sanguintiir clearly are not opposed to turning others and have been baiting you all by surrounding your mansion with… livestock. Whoever made this arrangement clearly wanted you all to suffer and, after all this time, I suspect they are itching to pull the trigger.”

Leopold and Elizabeth exchanged glances and then their golden eyes fell on Everett. For the first time, the big tiger’s gaze fell.

“Oh shit…” Reaper gasped, his eyes wide and a grin crossing his features. “It’s your ex, isn’t it?”

Baxter bristled and Everett sighed heavily.

“Well fuck me,” laughed the wolf. “It just can’t be a young adult supernatural drama without some sort of love triangle. Is it a werewolf? Tell me it’s a werewolf.”

“It is not a werewolf,” Leopold said coldly, drawing all attention to him. “The instigator of the situation we find ourselves in is, in fact, my own son. Victor.” His feline golden eyes drifted quickly towards Everett. “Of course, I use ‘son’ loosely. I was the one that turned him as I am the one that turned Everett. But we are not related by blood, figuratively speaking.”

Reaper’s eyebrows rose. “More family drama. Why would Victor do all of this to you? What did you do to piss him off?”

“Did your ‘vegetarian’ lifestyle offend him?” grunted Frostfire.

“Somewhat,” came the sorrowful response. “I turned Victor about eighty years ago. At the time, he was a young Russian spy who had been sent here to sabotage the United States from the inside. He had deduced that we Crowes were not exactly as we seemed and discovered our identity. At the time, the Sanguintiir were content to let us live as we saw fit. Fearing not only for my country but also unwilling to submit an innocent man to the mercies of the Sanguintiir, I convinced Victor into becoming a vampire amongst us. Granting him eternity and power so long as he defected from Russia and lived amongst us. He agreed.”

“Just like that?” Frostfire growled.

Elizabeth shook her head while resting a paw gently on the back of Leopold’s own. “No. It was a bit of our own subterfuge. We released Victor and allowed him to return to Russia with the story that the US was breeding vampires as a secret army. Naturally, his superiors didn’t believe him and severely punished him. Even went so far as to order his execution for ‘cowardice’ and ‘dereliction of duty’. When he escaped, the Sanguintiir went after him.” Her grip tightened around Leopold’s paw. “My husband intercepted him before the Sanguintiir could and turned him.”

The way they spoke, it almost seemed like they were trying to confess that they had orchestrated the events with the express intention of turning Victor while leaving enough room for plausible deniability. Do enough to plant the seed of doubt in a witness but not enough that authorities from an outside perspective could reasonably deduce the truth of their nature. Little wonder they had managed to evade detection for so long.

“Why would your own son do that to you?” Baxter asked, surprising Frostfire with the question. At this point, he had assumed the primate had all this knowledge. Apparently not. “Sounds like he should be grateful.”

“He was,” answered Leopold, bowing his head sorrowfully.

“But our actions did bring the ire of the Sanguintiir upon us,” Alicia said gently.

‘Our actions’. Those words alone provided the evidence that both Alicia and Scott were likely already vampires and part of the Crowe clan at that point. Their abilities would have proven very useful to navigate the politics of US-Russian diplomacy as well as evading the Sanguintiir.

“The Sanguintiir had already marked Victor for death,” continued Scott. “But Leopold turned him before the kill squad could arrive. By their own laws, no vampire amongst the Sanguintiir may kill another member without due cause. The sapient that Victor had been was dead. Now Victor Crowe was before them. This act alone showed the Sanguintiir that the Crowe Family is not just some idle collection of vampires that refused to drink the blood of sapients. We could be a threat.”

Alicia turned her eyes towards Baxter. “The Sanguintiir kept a close eye on us at that point. They were always watching us. More than once, someone in their membership tried to prod some unfortunate individual to our secret. Those that hated us for bringing in Victor were in the minority but if they could prove a pattern, then they believed they could paint us as a threat and have us eliminated.”

“No friends or family amongst rats,” Frostfire snarled. “Even flying, bloodsucking ones.”

Reaper elbowed him lightly.

“Where was Ev in all this?” asked Baxter.

“I came after,” rumbled Everett. “I was one of the ‘unfortunate individuals’, Alicia mentioned.” Baxter tilted his head upwards to peer upon the giant tiger. “Victor prefers tigers,” was all Everett said.

“Oh…”

From there, Frostfire could piece together the rest of the story even as the Crowes narrated it. Everett had the same circumstances thrust upon him as Victor. He discovered the truth and had the choice of being turned into a vampire or being killed by the Sanguintiir. Everett chose vampirism. The similarities in their situation and Victor’s thirst for tiger blood likely formed a bond between them. Something more than just mere ‘brothers’.

This only incensed the Sanguintiir all the more and aggravated Victor who hated being caged and constantly watched. The Sanguintiir saw this flaw in the Crowes and convinced Victor to join them. However, when Everett would not join them, Victor grew increasingly angry.

“So your ‘son’ defected to the enemy,” Reaper concluded. “And then created this elaborate prison to force the same situation that led to his transformation and Everett’s. He’s trying to call you all out.”

“Indeed,” agreed Leopold. “And I am afraid that his plan has started to bear fruit. Not only through Baxter’s introduction into the fold but yours as well.” The lion shook his head. “I am not sure what protections Dracula might afford you but suffice to say that you may soon find yourselves at a precarious crossroads.”

Frostfire looked at his finished meal and frowned. “If a superhero gets turned, it could lead to a lot of problems.” Then he gave Reaper a sidelong glance. “Not to mention if you were turned.”

Reaper met his gaze. “Certainly would be an interesting way to cause the apocalypse. Make me the deciding factor.” He let out a little sigh and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “Though that does make me wonder. If the Sanguintiir are constantly watching, why haven’t they done anything up until now?”

Scott suddenly went rigid, his whiskers standing on edge and his feline eyes narrowing into slits. “No…” He immediately spun towards the one door leading into the dining room. “He’s here.”

“What!?” Frostfire hissed, flames starting to flicker at the tips of his fingers.

Footfalls suddenly could be heard accompanied by the soft click of claws upon the tiles. Knowing how silent the vampires could be, Frostfire knew that whomever was approaching was purposefully making their presence known. Every member of the Crowes was instantly on edge with Everett even going so far as to get out of his seat and put himself in front of Baxter protectively.

The footsteps grew louder…

… then a tall, lean snow leopard rounded the corner and took up the doorway. Flanking him were a few other feline vampires. The leopard’s blood red irises glinted with glee as he gazed upon those gathered around the dining room table.

“Well isn’t this nice?” cooed the man in a silky, youthful voice that had no trace of its Russian origins. He almost sounded British. “The whole family gathered for a dinner with some guests.” His supple fingers, claws bared, rested on his chest. “Though I’m hurt. Where was my invite to this…”

Those crimson eyes roved Baxter, Frostfire and Reaper.

“… feast?”

Sanguine Brother

* * * * *

Jacob wasn’t sure whether or not he should kick himself for not keeping his Eyes of Chaos open and possibly detecting Victor’s approach. Narratively speaking, he was expecting such a reveal. He had hinted as much when he asked why the Sanguintiir had not acted up until now. Likely Baxter’s presence was an acceptable outcome and the leadership was waiting to see how the Crowes would act. Perhaps Victor grew jealous of Everett’s attention to the young primate but his impulses were tempered by the other, more powerful members of the Sanguintiir. But when Frostfire and an unknown individual was suddenly invited to the Crowe manor…

Well, they had to act.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Every instinct told him that this was just the prelude. The setup. Foundations for the event that would end the world would be set here but not actually acted. However, as he was learning, the AI governing this reality could easily subvert expectations and turn things on their head. Blood spilled here could awaken the force of entropy sleeping in the lake. Perhaps immortal vampires who never aged were actually acting as a secret guardian against the forces of decay and killing them here would inadvertently unleash the entity.

Or it could all be a vampire apocalypse after all.

Even if he were to use his Eyes to peer into all the possibilities, it would be impossible to tell which one the timeline would take. Especially when the entity he was opposing could alter reality just as well as he could. There was an irony to possessing a power called the ‘Eyes of Chaos’ only for it to be rendered useless because of the sheer unpredictability of his opponent.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he watched as Victor Crowe approached the table. The snow leopard wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans that had ripped claw marks artfully designed across his thighs. His shirt was simply black and highlighted the tight muscles beneath his fur. The lean figure was made to look bulkier than normal thanks to the heavy coat he wore with a fluffy lining that reminded Jacob of those over-sized capes royalty wore. The man carried himself with an air of confidence and control, the warden striding into his prisoner’s cells.

“Father!” Victor exclaimed, spreading his arms wide and approaching Leopold. The lion barely had enough time to stand up before Victor was suddenly a blur of motion, colliding with the bigger feline and catching him in a hug. Clearly a display of his power. Victor pulled way, grinning brightly and showing off his massive fangs. “It has been too long!”

“Indeed,” answered Leopold coldly.

Victor rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. “Oh, don’t be like that. I know there has been some bad blood between us but this is a cause for celebration!” He stepped back, spreading his arms before quickly leaning down and pecking Elizabeth’s cheek. “I didn’t forget about you, of course, mother.”

Then he was practically dancing and skipping back towards his entourage, his motions a blur with a faint whumping noise emitted from each movement. All the sounds he made with each gesture clamored into one, single cacophony. The leopard was suddenly beside a cougar with long, curly red hair. He draped an arm around her shoulder, grinning widely at the family.

“I wanted to introduce you to my wife, Desdemona.”

The Crowes all blanched.

“Wife?” stammered Scott. “You have a wife?”

Victor’s grin grew even broader. “Oh, is that not something you foresaw, big brother?” He gently turned the muzzle of the cougar towards his own and the two locked lips in a prolonged and loud moment of public intimacy.

An effective if crude means to disarm the Crowes.

Jacob took the moment of shock and display to appraise the others in Victor’s entourage. Desdemona was bigger in size and mass than Victor. Bulky, muscular and a little masculine. Her breasts were still quite pronounced but beneath the heavy, leather coat she wore that was reminiscent of a biker’s, her shoulders were like bowling balls and her biceps nearly as large as her head. Victor clearly had a type.

Beside Desdemona was a panther. Slimmer and distinctly more feminine than Victor’s wife. She was almost like a dark mirror to Alicia. Pixie-like and delicate in appearance but with a quiet menace to her crimson eyes. She wore a white blouse that was accented by a blood-red, leather vest that matched the red and black plaid skirt she wore.

The tallest of them all was a cheetah. This feline coughed loudly. The man was taller than even Everett. Pushing past seven feet tall and approaching eight easily. He was moderately muscled but his height made it look like someone had stretched him poorly in some digital editing software. Stark, black hair was shaved close to his head and was nearly invisible against his spotted fur. He wore a simple white tank top and black pants.

The last member of the party was a young, male lion. His mane hadn’t come in fully when he was turned and only appeared as a tuft of bright, crimson hair between his ears. There was a wild quality to his red eyes that were constantly darting around the room. Every second, he would lick his upper lip in a particular way that would emit a little sizzling hiss like he was putting out a fire at the tip of his whiskers. The man was moderately built. A little pudgy but there was strength in his legs. He was dressed in a heavy, yellow coat and equally heavy cargo pants. No shirt leaving his rippling chest bare.

“Vic,” grunted the cheetah after his cough.

Victor pulled away from his ‘wife’ and licked his lip. “Oh… Of course.” He wiped his lips with a thumb while giving Desdemona a sly smirk. Sometime during their extended kissing session, he had draped a leg around her waist and she had pulled him towards her, clearly gripping his perky ass. They untangled from one another, leaving Victor to turn towards the party.

“I do apologize, family,” said the snow leopard. “Around Des, I’m just an animal.” He let out a growl for emphasis. “She just brings out that part of me.”

“A part you should keep to yourself,” Everett snarled. “You’re in our house, remember?”

Victor just turned his smile towards his one-time-lover. “Of course, Everett. I understand. I do apologize.” He made a delicate bowing motion towards them. “But let us put that aside. I came here for a reason.”

“Speak,” Leopold rumbled, not quite a growl but a threatening enough rumble that it was clear that he meant business.

“Thank you.” Victor straightened but as he rose, he tilted his head upwards ever so slightly so he was just glaring down at them. “The Sanguintiir leaders have bestowed me a great honor. They have empowered me to alter the terms of the Crowe Family’s agreement with the rest of the clan.”

Jacob bit back a snarky comment. This was not the time to throw a match into the basement full of gunpowder. However, he could see where this was all going even without using his abilities. The Prodigal Son of the Crowe Clan was going to claim that his long sojourn amongst the Sanguintiir had all been to spare the rest of the family constant torture and observation. That he worked amongst them, garnered their trust, so that he could free them all. Now, somehow, his ability to free them from this gilded cage would somehow be contingent on Baxter’s fate.

Somehow.

“Through my hard work, I finally am able to return to you all with news that I can break you all free of this…” Victor frowned and waved a paw limply around himself. “… drab, blocky prison.” He turned towards Desdemona offering his paw. The cougar haughtily rested her broad fingers on his palm and he went so far as to kiss her knuckles. With a glimmer in his eyes, Victor continued.

“My dear Des here, is what you would call a princess.”

“Duchess, technically,” added the cougar in a thick Eastern European accent.

“Yes. My Duchess Desdemona.” Victor knelt down next to her. It became evident why. He was tilting her hands in such a way to show off the ring on her finger. “After years of work, the Sanguintiir had sought it fit to reward my years of service with the kind duchess’ hand in marriage. We were wed not too long ago.”

“How long?” Frostfire suddenly asked.

A flash of annoyance crossed Victor’s features but he kept his smirk in place. “Not long at all.”

“In what context are we talking about?” Jacob asked, picking up on the grizzly’s line of questioning. “To an ant, a week is an eternity. To an average sapient, ‘not long’ might be just a few days. A few weeks at most. But to someone whom time has no meaning, ‘not long’ could be entire lifetimes.”

Victor got to his feet, ending his little display. “It doesn’t matter.” Dusting off his knees, he said, “The marriage comes with many perks. One of which is the authority to ensure that you, my family, are no longer incarcerated within this drab, dark landscape.”

Alicia glowered at Victor and stood to her feet. “Say what you mean, Victor,” she insisted. “You know I already know.”

A dark smile crossed the snow leopard’s lips revealing that he fully expected this. “Of course, dear sister.” He gestured towards the rest of the family. “The laws are quite strict. You are my family and as a member of royalty, it would not do to have my family in such a state. Therefore, all I simply ask is that you reaffirm your bond to me and then, you will be free to be who you want, love whom you want…” His eyes fell upon Baxter with a dark glimmer. “… bleed whom you want.”

The words between the lines were barely hidden.

‘Submit to me and I can make your problems go away’.

Despite wanting to become a vampire himself, Baxter visibly shrank away from Victor and hid behind Everett.

“I understand that this is a lot to take in,” explained the snow leopard, clasping his paws together with an almost malicious glee. “And I know I interrupted your dinner but I simply could not stop myself from telling you all the news. Perhaps we should speak about it at length?” Crimson eyes roved across the non-vampires. “Crowe family business, you understand. I doubt those of you who have unfortunately short lives can understand.”

Victor offered a paw towards Baxter while licking his lips. “Of course, there is a simple remedy to all that.”

Everett’s golden eyes flashed and he physically pushed the simian behind him, baring his fangs.

Before there could be any further escalation, Jacob suddenly got out of his seat and made a show of dabbing his muzzle with a napkin.

“Totally understand,” he announced loudly. “I wouldn’t want to impose or let my meager opinions color your judgments.” Gently tapping Frostfire on the shoulder, he flicked an ear towards Baxter. “Why don’t the three of us head back to our cabin? Leave the family to their reunion. I’m sure they have plenty to discuss.”

Everett glanced over his shoulder at Jacob and mouthed a quick thanks. The enormous tiger sheathed the claws that had been digging lightly into Baxter’s shoulder so he could release his love. Frostfire took over protecting the primate, helping Baxter to his feet and shielding him from the other vampires as they quietly made their way out of the dining room. Jacob was two steps behind Frostfire, acting at the rearguard and keeping his senses sharp, eyes emitting a faint blue glow.

He felt the presence of one of the Sanguintiir vampires following them stealthily as they left the Crowe household. It was the red-haired lion. The one that looked completely manic and insane without taking any pains to hide it. Despite a clearly unhinged appearance, the feline was a very keen predator. Careful to hide his presence, staying downwind and ensuring that he did not emit even a single sound.

Jacob didn’t really need to use his eyes to know they were being stalked. He just needed assurances that they would not be attacked. When they reached Frostfire’s truck, Jacob held open the passenger-side door to Baxter. It was only a two-person cabin after all.

“You’re not coming?” asked the primate.

“I’ll ride in the back,” Jacob answered, smiling comfortingly. “It’s not a far ride.”

He shut the door behind Baxter and gave Frostfire a nod. Then he jumped onto the truck bed, sat down and waited. The truck roared to life a moment later and pulled out of the Crowes’ driveway. The lion stalked them even as the truck rumbled across the paved road away from the compound. As they reached the lake, the vampire - still hidden amongst the trees - grew bored and returned the way he came.

Jacob kept his senses activated all the way to the cabin.

“They’re going to invite us to a game,” Baxter said as Jacob opened the rented lakeside cabin door for him.

“A game?” he repeated. “What kind of game?”

The primate shook his head, a look of worry on his face as he stepped into the more moderate warmth of the abode. “When I first learned about the Crowes and after I confronted them, they tried everything they could to dissuade me from becoming a vampire. But they also said it was tradition to show me everything they could do.” He waved a hand through the air. “We went to this field out in the woods. Far from everyone. You would have to hike for over two hours to get there. They played baseball out there. At full strength.”

Judging by the strength and speed that Victor just displayed, he could only imagine what that scene would be like or what it must have appeared to the impressionable primate.

“They’re going to do the same again,” Baxter pressed. “Victor will make them. I’m sure of it.”

“What makes you so sure?” Frostfire asked, shutting the door behind him. A wave of cold emanated from him, a slight icy mist rolling off the bear’s shoulders while the tips of the fur at the edges of his cheeks began to turn stark white.

“It’s tradition,” repeated Baxter. “They’ve been watching us. I’m sure of it. Victor is going to force them to play some sort of game. Show off to us.” His dark eyes were filled with worry. “When the Crowes played against one another, Ev always told me that against the Sanguintiir, they were always weaker comparatively. Drinking feral blood satiates them but still weakens them compared to the Sanguintiir. I’m afraid that someone could genuinely get hurt.”

Perhaps another ploy from Victor to get the Crowes to submit? Numbers-wise, the two sides of the conflict were fairly even. However, Victor’s side had more raw power but he could sense that they were all not as cooperative and homogeneous as Leopold’s half of the family. If they were to compete, it would be a competition between raw strength and superior tactics and coordination.

Again, it could be an impetus to kick off a vampire apocalypse.

“Nothing we can do about it now except to wait and see what they decide,” Jacob concluded. He peered out a window at the little, soft, green light that could be seen blinking across the lake. “I haven’t had the benefit of being exposed to the Crowes for as long as you have, Baxter, but from what little I have learned of them, I am fairly sure they are not going to cow to Victor’s demands.”

The primate shook his head firmly. “They won’t. I don’t think they have a choice but they won’t.”

“There is always a choice.” Jacob wandered over towards the kitchen area of the cabin. He opened the refrigeration and peered inside. “Sometimes those choices aren’t made apparent until after they are taken away.”

“Can’t you do something about it?” Baxter insisted as Jacob pulled out a gallon of milk. “You’re a Reality Bender that even the Legion can’t measure. Can’t you make all this go away?”

Jacob tilted his head at the simian. His eyes briefly flicked over to Frostfire who was regarding him expectantly.

“Sure,” he responded. “And what would your preferred solution be? Turn you into a vampire? Make sure you’re the same clan as Everett? Has it even occurred to you that all of the Sanguintiir appear to be feline?”

Baxter but his lower lip and looked down at his hands. “I noticed…”

“Or perhaps the solution here is to cure them all of vampirism,” he mused. “Take away their powers. Take away their lust for blood. Take away their immortality. Wouldn’t that solve all your problems just as much as becoming a vampire would?”

There, Baxter’s eyes darted back to Jacob, wide as saucers. His mouth hung open for a moment, agape as he was unable to counter the point.

“See?” countered the lupine No One, grabbing a glass from a nearby counter. “There are choices we’re often not aware of. Consequences we seldom consider in the heat of the moment. The burden and regret of the possibilities missed will forever weigh on your shoulders.”

Frostfire’s heavy footfalls approached as he came to stand beside Baxter. “What about your shoulders?”

He glanced up at the grizzly with a raised eyebrow. “What about them?”

“Aren’t you at least partially responsible for what happens? You could literally see every possibility in the future if you wanted.” The bear’s features looked conflicted and pitying at the same time. “Doesn’t it… hurt? To know what could have been but let things go the way they did?”

Jacob let out a short laugh as he poured himself some milk. “We’ve been over this. I’ve blamed others and fate for the shit that happened even though I could have done everything in the world to stop it. I’m trying to find the solution here without making things worse.”

“I’m not talking about what other people choose. I’m talking about you. Aren’t you hurt when bullshit like that…” The bear gestured with a big paw in the direction of the Crowe mansion. “… happens? Don’t you just feel… helpless?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as Jacob regarded his glass of milk. It took him until he took a sip and swallowed the small mouthful before he could answer. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt helpless. Knowing what I could do. ‘Helpless’ is not the right word.” He took a second to mull over his thoughts. “Regretful? Useless? I don’t know.” Shaking his head, Jacob set down the glass. “I could go back in time, change things so that one problem never arises but I will never be able to create a world without pain or suffering. That is the mortal condition. We grow and learn through the challenges we face and how we cope with them. But…”

His gaze looked back towards the mansion and the little green light glowing at the end oft he pier. “… perhaps my problem is that I’ve failed and been challenged too many times now that I’ve gotten numb to the hurt.”

Shaking his head, he glanced back towards the two. “But that’s neither here nor there. There is a solution here and it does involve me using my abilities but it’s not the one you necessarily want.” His piercing blue eyes were directed at Baxter.

“Then what is it?” Baxter demanded impatiently. “You’re both the experienced superheroes here. Why don’t you know? You’ve got to know someone that knows?”

Jacob lifted an eyebrow. “Jesus, kid. You’re sounding like a fucking Karen. If you start demanding to see the manager, I’ll warp reality to give you a goddamn bob cut just to make a point.” He glanced back towards the refrigerator and opened it once more. “If there’s anything I’ve learned while being here, it’s that I can be blind and biased. My perceptions of what is ‘good’ or what is ‘best’ for someone isn’t necessarily correct because it’s still coming from me.”

A glance over at Frostfire showed that the bear had this little smirk on his face. Pride or smugness. Could be either.

Turning back to Baxter, he said, “So I’d enforce the same thing upon you, Bax.” He pulled out the dessert he had created earlier in the day from the fridge and set it on the kitchen counter. “Just because you think you know what is best for everyone, doesn’t mean it actually is.”

Baxter slumped his shoulders in exasperation and rolled his eyes. “You guys keep saying that but haven’t said exactly what that means! Just spit it out already and tell me what the fuck is so bad about you turning me instantly into a vampire.”

It was Frostfire’s turn to let out an audible groan. He reached forward, grabbed the top of Baxter’s head with his enormous paw and forcibly turned the simian around to face him.

“Kid, Everett is the one that wants to turn you,” growled the grizzly. “I don’t know if it’s a romantic or sexual thing but he has to be the one to bite and turn you.”

“What?” exclaimed the teen incredulously. “That’s stupid. Why does it have to be him?”

Jacob exchanged glances with the ursine superhero. “Baxter, dude,” he said evenly. “It’s a metaphor for commitment.”

A look of utter confusion crossed the simian’s expression. “What?”

“Think about it. To turn you into a vampire, he has to bite you but has to do so with utter devotion and certainty that he wants to do this or you might end up with another clan.”

“He is probably the only one closest to that kind of connection with you,” Frostfire rumbled. “Sure the other Crowes can probably do that but you’re closest to Everett. They know you love him and he loves you. If they did it, they’d probably be afraid that they might get between you two. That could make things much worse.”

Jacob sliced into the Swiss Rolls he had made and brought some plates over, portioning the pieces out and handing them to those in the cabin. “The point we’re trying to make is that, yes, I can snap my fingers and make you a vampire but that’d invalidate all of Everett’s feelings. He’s put a lot of weight into this decision. If you kick off your eternity resenting one another because one of you circumvented the other’s wishes, that’s going to be a long eternity.” He rolled his eyes as he moved towards the nearby couch. “People throw around words like ‘forever’ and ‘eternity’ around like it’s oxygen but few truly realize just how long it really is.”

“That’s just stupid,” Baxter huffed, taking up a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “I keep asking him to bite me. To turn me. He just keeps pushing it down the line. Telling me that he’ll bite me ‘eventually’. All I keep hearing are excuses.”

Jacob took a bite of the Swiss Roll for a moment. It was perfect. Velvety cream balanced by an orange-infused whipped cream and jam-like orange sauce offered the perfect transition between the rich chocolate and the filling. Supplemented by the candied oranges and there were little popping burst of sweetness and citrus flavor that stopped the dessert from being very one-note. Strangely enough, he found himself wishing that it wasn’t so perfect.

Frostfire’s criticisms rang in the back of his head. These perfect recipes were just that; perfect. There was no room for improvement. No where to grow. An eternity of perfection was incredibly boring.

“Have you actually been asking him?” he accused, still staring at the dessert.

Even without looking, he could feel Baxter’s incredulous look. “Of course I have! I’ve been asking him all summer.”

“Have you really?” Only then did he lift his gaze to lock gazes with the primate. “Or have you been using questions like ‘Why don’t you bite me?’ or ‘When will you bite me?’ Questions that are less questions and more demands.”

Baxter’s lips opened briefly before his eyes grew distant.

After a minute, Jacob turned back towards the dessert and cut off another piece. “See? You haven’t been asking. Not really. All you’ve been doing is diminishing his opinions and feelings but making it constantly about you. You’re honestly giving off ‘helpless protagonist’ vibes. You make everything about you but don’t do shit to resolve it.”

Before Baxter could protest, Frostfire sat down between them, his own plate of dessert in his paws. “I get it kid,” he grunted. “It’s bullshit that some people get superpowers or get to go on these amazing adventures. Being the small fry and watching other people do things you can’t even imagine makes you feel like a background character. Worse yet is when you get some bit of success or something amazing is just within reach and you still feel powerless.”

A terrifying point and a perspective Jacob had not considered for the longest time. Being at the apex of power, he rarely ever had to think about being powerless. Even when he was restricted due to some arbitrary law, he had always deflected blame elsewhere. Now, looking at Baxter and considering how the young man was effectively blaming everyone else for his lack of vampirism… he couldn’t help but wonder if he sounded just as petulant when he told someone he couldn’t just snap his fingers and make everything better.

“But you can’t force this,” Frostfire continued. “Trust me. There are whole theses about what we call ‘Origin Story Syndrome’. People basically try to manufacture their own superhero origin stories. They throw themselves in front of trucks so they can be reincarnated in other worlds. Partake in experimental treatments hoping that they will be the one that will develop superpowers. There are even people out there that get frustrated enough that they would try to sabotage their own lives just so they can have a ‘tragic back story’.”

Would that Jacob had been ignorant to such an phenomenon but in his long career as a No One, he had to deal with every person across the spectrum of main character, sidekick and background character. Even villains were potential clientèle. He had worked on the belief that everyone’s story deserved telling and everyone deserved their happily ever after. More than one case had crossed his desk who suffered from ‘Origin Story Syndrome’ as Frostfire described it.

“You can’t force this,” continued the grizzly. “And you need to give Everett his agency. He’ll turn you on his terms. Forcing it will only make things worse.” Finally, Frostfire took a bite out of the curled cake. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a little moan, even going so far as to cross his legs and squirm a little. “Oh fuck… This is damn good.” He waved his fork at Baxter. “Try it. Trust me. You won’t regret it.”

Baxter offered a little smile, no doubt amused that the huge bear that was three times he size could be reduced to such a state with a simple dessert. He did take a bite. Like Frostfire, the simian gasped and let out a moan.

“This is… this is…” he breathed. “This is better than sex!”

Jacob chuckled and decided to pull back a remark about how he could actually infuse the pleasure of sex into the cake if he wanted but that would make it a little more salty. Despite his amusement, he couldn’t muster a smile. His eyes drifted back towards the cake.

At its perfection.

He had spent countless eternities perfecting the recipe without even knowing it.

And now… Where did he have left to go?

❖

* * * * *

The brusque fall air was made all the chillier by the overwhelming number of vampires. Coupled with the confidence that Victor Crowe oozed, Frostfire found himself feeling nervous. The vast clearing that could fit multiple football fields screamed ‘arena’. A fitting place to fight in relative isolation. Apparently, this was at the edge of the Crowes’ territory. Far enough from their home and Lake Ulkataka that anything that happened here would not be detected for days if at all. The wall of towering trees that surrounded the clearing formed a natural barrier.

Standing on a small hill near the center of the clearing, the grizzly watched calmly, arms crossed as the Crowes stood opposite their Sanguintiir counterparts. It was five against five and there could not have been a clearer contrast between night and day. Never before would he have thought that he would be rooting for any vampire clan but as he regarded the golden-eyed Crowes against the crimson-eyed Sanguintiir, he was forced to admit that the Crowes did look more benevolent.

The Crowes were dressed like well-dressed, average civilians. Only upon close inspection would anyone be able to tell that they were different. Everett wore a tough, dark-blue featherdown jacket and even Leopold had a heavy, leather jacket over his shoulders. Alicia wore a short, dark skirt but had long, thick leggings. Elizabeth was dressed in pants and a fluffy, light brown jacket.

But the Sanguintiir… their attire was textbook vampire. All suits and high heels even though they were in the middle of the wilderness. Desdemona was even wearing a pair of ridiculously high-heeled leather boots.

“I don’t like this,” murmured Baxter, hugging himself tightly. Reaper gently wrapped an arm around the smaller simian’s shoulders, pulling him close to preserve warmth. “In every way, the Sanguintiir are going to be more powerful than the Crowes. There’s no way they can win.”

“It’s not always about raw power,” Reaper said cautiously. “Coordination and teamwork also play a part into this. Not to mention their powers.” He cocked an eyebrow at Baxter. “Don’t suppose you know what powers the Sanguintiir have?”

Baxter shook his head in a negative.

That made Frostfire all the more nervous. He wished Reaper would activate his Eyes of Chaos. After that speech last night, however, he didn’t feel right to ask the Writer to use his gaze even if it meant things would be easier for them. All he could do was remain guarded and ready for whatever came his way.

Everett then held up the football he had been clutching tightly. “You’re the guest, Victor,” he growled. “Why don’t you take first try?”

Victor batted his eyes and reached for the ball. “Oh, you’ve so kind, Ev. You were always so nice to me. I hope to repay the favor. I will be a merciful leader.”

Everett’s lips twitched in agitation as he allowed the ball to be taken though his claws did scrape the surface of the pigskin. The vampires then spread out, forming a rough line of scrimmage. If the air wasn’t already cold, it was downright frigid as the two teams lined up against one another.

Each of the vampires had about ten feet between one another. No matter how anyone looked at it, calling out orders between that distance would be incredibly difficult. Alicia could read minds and Scott had clairvoyance so those two could at least coordinate with one another but the others…? The fact that Victor had adopted a similar formation suggested that the Sanguintiir vampires had some way to coordinate as well.

Frostfire scratched his cheek nervously.

Then they were moving.

BOOM!

There was peel of thunder and a blast of air rushed past Frostfire. The two lines of scrimmage had been at least twenty yards from one another but in an instant, they had collided. Everett smashed into the red-haired lion and knocked the feline over with sheer strength alone. The collision has been immense with enough force to cause a blast like thunder. Leopold crashed into the unnamed cheetah while Elizabeth and Alicia collided with Desdemona and the panther. Scott gave chase to Victor and they both appeared near the edge of the field for a moment before Victor suddenly let out a cry of triumph.

Frostfire blinked and, suddenly, all ten vampires were once against arranging themselves into opposing lines.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Victor scored a touchdown,” Jacob responded grimly. “His team got battered for it. Especially that redhead. But they still won. Possession is being changed.” He then waved a paw in front of him. The air rippled like it was suddenly wrapped in clear gelatin. “I’ve just slowed the progression of time. Hopefully that’ll let us keep track of things a little better.”

Baxter blanched at him. “You can just do that?”

Reaper gave him a lopsided smile. “Undefined reality bender, remember?”

The vampires began moving again but this time, it was at a base speed akin to an actual football match. No blurred movements, no streaks of color or sudden bursts of thunder. Leopold, who was acting as the quarterback this time around, threw the ball ahead of him. Everett immediately made a beeline for the red-haired lion and, like before slammed into the feline before pivoting and charging for the cheetah. Scott zoomed past the Sanguintiir and was clearly meant to be the wide receiver but the cheetah was geared to intercept him. Everett intercepted the cheetah in time and Scott snatched the ball from the air before charging for the goal. Victor was already on another intercept path with Leopold right behind him.

But the differences in strength was clear. The gap between Victor and Leopold grew wider and wider until Victor managed to tackle Scott to the ground with enough force that the lynx was dragged through the ground a good six feet before coming to a halt. Victor was far from nice as well. He made sure to grab the back of Scott’s head and drive it into the dirt.

“Fuck…” rumbled Frostfire.

“Let’s count them out just yet,” Reaper said cautiously. “The Sanguintiir has the advantage of knowledge here. Victor knows all the Crowes powers and no doubt spread it amongst his team. But the Crowes don’t know their powers.”

“Isn’t there something you can do?” asked Baxter.

Reaper narrowed his eyes. “They haven’t lost. Besides, this is just meant to be a friendly competition, right? There’s no reason the Crowes bet their freedom and agreement on this one game.” Those very same eyes darted towards Baxter. “Right?”

The primate shook his head. “No. No way.” Then with a shaking voice, he said, “They wouldn’t…” He chewed on his lower lip. “You don’t think they would…?”

The look in Reaper threw Frostfire said it all. There was every possibility that the Crowes hinged their agreement to Victor’s terms on this game. At the very least, they were hoping to buy themselves time to make the decision.

BOOM!

The moment of distraction caused them all the turn back towards the field. Another try had been attempted. Scott had collided with one of the ancient trees surrounding the field, buried halfway into it and with the ancient tree trunk starting the bend and buckle. The lynx coughed but he managed to flash Victor a grin as he held up the ball he stubbornly gripped.

Victor scoffed as the touchdown was awarded to the Crowes. A cruel smirk touched his lips as Scott tried to get up with the aid of his family but his left leg immediately collapsed out from underneath him. There was a rather large, wooden stake impaling his leg, dripping blood.

“Scott!” exclaimed Baxter, genuinely concerned.

“Shit…” Frostfire cursed and bolted down the field towards the lynx. Alicia and Elizabeth took one of Scott’s arms each and helped carry him back towards the hill which served as neutral ground. Leopold and Everett argued with the Sanguintiir about Scott’s injury. As he approached, Frostfire took over for Elizabeth.

“I can heal him with a drop of my blood,” urged the lioness.

“But that’ll drain you of strength, won’t it?” he warned. “The game is still going. Conserve your strength.”

Scott grimaced and nodded in agreement. “He’s right. Save your strength. We’ll need it later.”

That was no doubt a clairvoyant prediction and he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what Scott was planning. Frostfire hoisted the large lynx onto his shoulders, allowing the feline to clutch his back tightly as he hurriedly made his way back to the hill. Once there, he set down the vampire in front of Reaper. Elizabeth and Alicia were right behind him.

“You were right, Reaper,” he began. “We barely know anything about what the Sanguintiir are capable of. But they don’t know the full extent of our powers either. Think you can patch him up? We’ll pretend that Elizabeth was the one that healed him.”

Reaper smirked and knelt down beside the lynx. All of them huddled around Scott, protecting him from the view of the Sanguintiir. “Am I to assume that this is part of your plan to disarm the Sanguintiir, Scott?”

The lynx gave him a pained grin. “Victor isn’t the only one that can play at intrigue. I lived in Europe during a time where backstabbing was a royal right.”

“Keep your enemy guessing,” chuckled Reaper. He reached out and gripped the wooden stake jutting from Scott’s leg. The moment he touched it, the wood dissolved in a blur of gray dust. That same dust covered Scott’s wound, closing the damaged flesh and leaving the fur perfect and unblemished. “You know, I probably should make my blood offensive or downright poisonous to the Sanguintiir just in case they decide to feast on me. I’m pretty sure one of them has an ability to control the blood in people’s veins.”

“That’s Victor,” Alice sighed, helping her brother up. “Hemomancy. A form of telekinesis. He can shape and move blood in the air. It is why they are stronger and faster than the rest of us by leaps and bounds. He is giving them a boost.”

Baxter looked even more worried. “How do you counter that?”

“We don’t,” grunted Scott, dusting some grass off him. “Not until we find out what their other powers are.” Rolling his shoulder, he said, “The Sanguintiir are not used to losing or being defied. That fits Victor perfectly. We just have to frustrate them long enough that they’ll start using their powers.”

“To what end? You’ll just keep getting hurt!”

Scott reached over and gently patted the simian’s head. “You have to trust us a little more, Bax. We can beat them.”

There was a clear look of surprise amongst the Sanguintiir where Scott started heading back down the hill mostly unharmed. Victor, however, looked confident and was eying his ‘mother’ closely. Elizabeth strode strongly back towards the line of scrimmage. That strength was no act. She had not expended any of her endurance to heal Scott.

The next match began with the Sanguintiir in possession of the ball. As thy fight began for the next point, Frostfire grew curious about the vampire mechanics.

“Their blood reserves determines the use of their powers, doesn’t it?” he asked.

Baxter nodded grimly. “Even using their supernatural speed and strength requires blood.”

So this was not a battle of strength. It was a war of attrition. This was likely why Victor was urging his team to play conservatively. Elizabeth could heal the Crowes and return them to fighting form. But the moment she was downed, the Crowes were on borrowed time. At the same time the Crowes were likely better at conserving their strength. With both a mind reader and a clairvoyant on their team, the Crowes were adept at avoiding damage and traps.

The Sanguintiir were the first to break.

After a few more tries where they were just trading touchdowns, it was the red-haired lion that broke first. Everett once again bowled him over with enough force to send him flying. The lion let out a roar of frustration and his mane literally burst into flames. A blast of fire erupted from him, almost like an explosion with globules of flaming blood flying in all directions.

Frostfire barely had enough time to react as one such blob flew past him. He turned in time to see Reaper swat the small fireball aside before it struck Baxter’s face.

“Pyrokinesis,” said the wolf darkly. “That was no accidental attack. That was predetermined. Guided.”

Sure enough, with the lion’s - who was named Sergei - ability revealed, he now more liberally used it, hurling guided fireballs before Everett could attack him. However, Everett had turned his attention away from Sergei. His job with the lion was done. Now, it was the black-furred jaguar that was in his crosshairs.

The jaguar was lithe, agile and just as fast as Alicia. Against the bulkier and heavier Everett, it seemed like a poor match but the massive tiger was just as fast as he was strong. Unlike the Sanguintiir, the Crowes had no reason to hide their abilities. Though it was not as flashy as pyrokinesis, their abilities nonetheless complimented their stealthy lifestyle. This was on full display as Everett chased down the jaguar, the ball all but forgotten in the clash. Frostfire was sure it had been handed off to Scott whose clairvoyance would once again keep him from being cornered. Tiger chased down jaguar, keeping the latter on her toes until, out of nowhere, Leopold appeared and collided with the jaguar, clasping his paws around her waist and forcing her to the ground.

Without warning, the jaguar’s form shifted like it was made out of oil. Her entire body took on the shape of a feral jaguar and nimbly slipped out of Leopold’s grip. She dashed several feet away before regaining her normal frame, clothes and all.

“A shapeshifter,” Frostfire rumbled. “Becomes more agile in her secondary form.”

Another ability known all thanks to Leopold’s uncanny ability to remain undetected.

The point went to the Sanguintiir but that was another piece of information gained.

“Why can’t Alicia just read their minds and learn their abilities?” asked Baxter.

“My guess?” Reaper responded. “She can ‘read’ minds. But she can’t probe them.” When given a puzzled look, he clarified. “If you’re thinking it, she’ll know it. But if you aren’t, it’s not like she can force it out of you. As long as the Sanguintiir don’t think about their abilities or even using it, she’ll be blocked out.”

Tactics suddenly were switched.

Possession was to the Crowes and, much to the Sanguintiir’s surprise, as the scrimmage began, Everett turned around and dashed towards his father. Leopold knelt down, pinned the ball to the ground and the huge tiger kicked the ball with all of his strength.

BOOM!

Everyone knew that speed and strength were Everett’s forte so there was no stopping the football when it was airborne. It soared through the air and disappeared past the forest.

A field goal.

“You better go get that, Vic,” taunted Everett, a thin smile on his muzzle. “You know we’re not allowed to go past our territory’s limits.”

Victor growled and he flicked his ear over his shoulder. The tall cheetah zoomed off to fetch the ball. The man returned a moment later, the ball in their possession. Scrimmage began but within a few moments, possession switched once more as the Crowes played a very tight defense. No doubt Scott’s clairvoyance working alongside Alicia’s mind reading.

Then the Crowes unleashed another unstoppable field goal.

Frostfire couldn’t help but smirk. Even with the statistical power difference, the Crowes were winning. It seemed that they had given up on their subterfuge to learn the Sanguintiir’s powers and were now aiming to gain points as much as possible. Frustration was growing on Victor’s features and the Sanguintiir were growing sloppier with each field goal scored.

It was after two more monstrous kicks that things changed up once more.

The cheetah had possession of the ball and, once again, Leopold used his stealth to sneak up to the unsuspecting feline. But just as the lion pounced, the the spotted feline’s body suddenly exploded into a cloud of mist, slipping right past Leopold’s fingers. The ball was lifted into the air by the sentient cloud and the cheetah reformed a moment later, still gripping his prize.

That touchdown went to the Sanguintiir, bringing the scores close to a tie.

Everett tried another field goal afterwards.

Krack-boom!

His foot slammed into the football, sending it sailing into the air… only for the ball to stop in midair.

“Telekinesis,” Reaper concluded. “That must be Desdemona’s ability.”

Sure enough, the cougar smirked as the ball landed securely into her paws, switching the field once more. Each of their abilities were categorized. The look on Victor’s face said it all.

He knew he had lost.

It only took two more rounds before it became clear that the Crowes had rapidly formulated a plan to counteract the Sanguintiir. Everett turned his attention entirely towards Desdemona, forcing the telekinetic cougar to go on the defensive. Scott went the jaguar. No matter how slippery the shapeshifter was, it was no match against his clairvoyance as he was able to counteract her every move. Alicia, quick and nimble as she was, went up against the cheetah. Even as the latter turned into mist, she could still hone in on his thoughts since reforming required a conscious decision. She could be exactly where she needed to be to trip him up and snatch the ball away. Leopold faced off against Sergei the pyrokinetic lion. Sergei couldn’t really use his flames out here in the planes but what he could manage was useless if he couldn’t see Leopold coming. Elizabeth, whose blood could heal, faced off against her son who could control blood.

But the Sanguintiir had once last dirty trick to play.

The Crowes were up by a sizable lead when, out of complete frustration, Sergei peeled away from the field and dashed straight towards Baxter, paws engulfed in flame. Under normal circumstances, the vampire would have been a blur and just sped right past Frostfire but as Reaper had cast a field to slow down time, the feline looked like he was just running towards them the speed of a very quick wide receiver.

Frostfire had enough time to slam a foot down, summoning a wall of ice that immediately forced the lion to ground to a stunned halt.

The game came to an abrupt stop.

“Well, isn’t this interesting?” cooed Victor, approaching slowly, a dark smile across his features. “You didn’t tell me that you were friends with another vampire clan with powers, father.”

“Leave them out of this, Victor!” roared Everett. “This is between us!”

The snow leopard licked his lips. The wall of ice abruptly shattered, likely due to Desdemona’s influence. A quick, rolling mist slipped past Frostfire and the cheetah rematerialized behind him. The cold arm of the feline wrapped around the grizzly’s neck, sharp fangs angled at his jugular.

“One move, Smokey, and you’re dead,” hissed the cheetah.

“I’m too hot for you to handle,” growled Frostfire, flames roiling in his paws.

“Sparkles.”

Reaper’s suddenly declaration made him stop. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Baxter being held by that jaguar, her paws holding the simian’s shoulders very tightly. Reaper was standing still, currently unrestrained until Desdemona walked over and placed a paw on top of his head. She was holding him down with her telekinesis.

“You know we had heard that you were delaying turning a cute little monkey, dear brother,” Victor chuckled, swaggering over, almost skipping. “I defended you, you know. Said that you were showing the true nature of the Sanguintiir by playing with your food. But to be cavorting with superheroes?” He tisked and tutted. “Now you know that doesn’t look good, right?”

“We were following your laws,” Leopold growled, slowly approaching, holding out his paw as a means to allay Victor’s predatory instincts. “They came to our door. We introduced ourselves. They discovered who we were. That was just yesterday.”

Victor’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. So that means that they’re not in too deep then.”

He snapped his fingers.

Crrack!

Frostfire directed his gaze back to Reaper, his eyes widening in horror as Desdemona twisted the wolf’s head completely around with enough force that his muzzle did a complete revolution and his neck nearly tore completely off his shoulders. The stunned look on Reaper’s features filled the bear with dread and horror.

“Reaper!” he cried.

“No!” Baxter screamed.

Elizabeth charged past the rest of the vampires and caught Reaper’s body as it fell to the ground. “Why!?” she cried.

Victor huffed. “Do you honestly think we didn’t overhear any of what was said back at the house? Why would I allow an unranked reality bender to run around unchecked?”

Frostfire growled, baring his fangs. The cold arm of the cheetah around his neck tightened.

“Easy there hero,” warned the spotted feline calmly. “Let’s not escalate this any more than it already has.”

Frostfire balled his paws into fists. “Too late. Reaper was of special interest to the Legion. You effectively just killed a Legion asset. Once they find out -”

Victor waggled his finger at him. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure the Legion would be pleased that we eliminated an unranked and unaligned reality bender. He posed a greater threat alive than dead.”

Unfortunately, that was painfully true. No doubt the higher ups in the Legion were all fretting and fearing what Reaper could do. News must have reached them as well of the dark portents that his presence brought. Perhaps now that he was dead, the AI that was set to bring apocalypses down upon them would actually shutdown and leave them alone. Killing Reaper might have actually been the solution… though Frostfire hated the idea.

“Pity I’m not dead.”

His heart jumped to his throat. Like everyone else, he turned in time to see Jacob Reaper just step into view. His growling turned into a gruff laugh of triumph. A proud weight filled his chest as he straightened and spent a second taking in the dumbfounded looks of all those around him. Especially Victor.

That smug asshole’s shocked and terrified expression was worth every ounce of gold in the world.

The very much living lupine, fully dressed and unscathed, looked down at his own corpse and grimaced.

“Urgh… I will never get used to seeing my own dead body,” Reaper huffed, sticking out his own tongue in disgust. He waved his paw like he was brushing away some dust from a desk. With that one gesture, his corpse dissolved into a flurry of autumn leaves that blew off into the wind, leaving Elizabeth to grasp at air.

His dark blue eyes turned towards Desdemona, his paws on his hips.

“So… You killed me.”

She backed away, fangs bared. “H - How!?”

“Bitch you didn’t even check if my corpse was cold or if I had a pulse,” Reaper answered. “People always assume that just because someone’s head spins completely around or you decapitate someone that they’re instantaneously dead. It’s been proven that severed heads actually live for a few seconds after being parted from their bodies.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And trust me, the seconds before death can last an eternity. Not that I can die anyway.”

“You…” began Baxter. “You can’t die?”

Reaper shrugged. “Comes from having lived for so long outside of all realities. I’ve been forgotten by everything and everyone. Time. Space. Even death. I am literately No One.”

That title suddenly took on a different meaning, one that was a little more… depressing than Frostfire first realized.

Reaper shrugged his shoulders in a dramatic fashion and shoved his paws into the pockets of his jeans. “When I die, I just wake back up in my home reality called Naught. A place where there is no time and space. I could literally just have popped back in here the instant I died to make a dramatic entrance. I figured now would be a good time though. Mostly because I had a few second thoughts of how I’d royally fuck you over for what you did.”

Desdemona snarled, fangs bared. “You wouldn’t dare. I am a duchess.”

“Uh-huh,” answered the wolf lazily. “But you know what, duchess?” A dark smirk crossed his features. “No royalty, even vampire royalty could face off against the rage of an eighteen wheeler crashing upon them at full speed.”

A look of confusion crossed her face. “What are you -”

A shadow fell upon the cougar and before she, or anyone else, could look up, there was suddenly a full eighteen-wheel truck crashing down upon her from above.

BOOOOM!

Grinding metal and crashing internal mechanisms ripped into the serenity of the clearing. The titanic truck dug several feet into the ground, remaining propped up for a good few seconds before the weight of the truck’s trailer tipped it to the side, sending it crashing far away from anyone else and sending its cargo of bright, yellow bows sailing off in all directions. Reaper snatched one of the golden bows from the air and began peeling it, revealing the truck to have been carrying bananas.

He bit into the fruit, idly bobbing his head in appreciation. Catching Frostfire’s stare, the No One simply said, “Potassium.”

Victor backed away, eyes widened. “You… You just…”

Metal ground and twisted. The door to the semitruck flew off its hinges, sailing towards Reaper. Before it hit him, the metal transformed into a flurry of bubbles, harmlessly blowing off into the wind. Desdemona emerged from the cabin of the truck, fangs bared. Her clothes were ripped and blood was dripping from her right shoulder which appeared to be dislocated. Strangely, cracks were appearing all over that same arm instead of cuts like she was a living statue that was bleeding from the inside.

With a snarl, she grabbed her injured arm and popped it back into position.

Reaper didn’t pay her any attention and continued to eat his banana.

“You insolent little -” she snarled.

Victor began to laugh.

“You just attacked one of us!”

All eyes went to him and the cheetah, who was holding onto Frostfire loosened his grip. Taking the opportunity, Frostfire jabbed his elbow into the feline’s stomach, a burst of flame erupted from the edge of his arm. The cheetah gasped and staggered back, giving the bear a second to leap away and come to stand right beside Reaper.

Victor, however, could not be more pleased. The snow leopard was grinning from ear to ear.

“You just attacked us!” repeated Victor Crowe. “You attacked the Sanguintiir. Even a duchess of the Sanguintiir! You have just declared war upon us!”

“Huh,” Reaper responded, looking undisturbed. “I guess I have. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

Victor turned towards Leopold. “No. Of course not. Because now, my dear family will need to make a choice.” He held out his paw towards the Crowes. “The Sanguintiir call upon you to defend your clan against this monster! This abomination upon our world! Will you heed the call of your own blood? Of your own son and brother?”

Frostfire’s heart plummeted as his eyes darted from Victor and Leopold. The other Crowes had gathered behind Leopold but there was this look of uncertainty on their faces. This may not have turned out exactly as Victor had planned but the snow leopard had seen an opportunity and pounced upon it. A hostile force had attacked the Sanguintiir. So now, the Crowes had to choose… fight alongside the clan that they belonged to or ally themselves with Reaper.

He glanced towards the No One and elbowed him lightly. “Say something.”

“What’s there to say?” the black-furred wolf responded.

“Anything. Convince them to fight back. To join us.”

“They already made that decision before this ‘game’ even began.”

Elizabeth was suddenly beside Reaper, occupying the wolf’s other side, her face a steely mask of resolve. The move was wordless but it spoke volumes. Everett was next and he stormed up to the jaguar that held Baxter hostage. All he needed to do was to loom over her, glowering before she was forced to release Baxter. The massive tiger wrapped his huge arms around the simian and guided him over to where his mother and Reaper stood. The rest of the Crowes didn’t hesitate and strode past Victor to stand beside Reaper.

Victor’s smile only slightly wavered.

“I see you’ve made your choice,” huffed the Sanguintiir representative. He turned to face them, his grin still in place. “Fine.” Pointing towards the distance he said, “Prepare yourselves. At sundown, I will bring the full might of the Sanguintiir upon you. The line of the Crowes ends tonight.”

Slap!

The very wet slap added a comedic end to the otherwise serious declaration. The discarded banana peel slid very slowly off Victor’s face.

Reaper dusted off his paws dramatically while chewing the remnants of the banana. Shifting the mouthful to one side of his muzzle, he ended the confrontation with a few, sharp words.

“Bring it on, bitch.”

❖

* * * * *

“Barricade the doors!” Leopold shouted. “Draw the curtains! We’ve practiced for this!”

The Crowes were a blur of moment. Without him dilating time, the vampires were literally blurs of movement around Jacob. Frostfire was helping where he could by generating walls of ice around the large walls of glass. Frozen water and reinforced glass was unlikely to keep the Sanguintiir from breaching the perimeter but it would slow them down.

Beside him stood Baxter. The primate had been practically catatonic the entire way back to the mansion. It was just a little before noon but it felt like an eternity had passed since the little skirmish out in the field. He felt for the kid. Any dreams he may have had of immortality were immediately shattered.

Jacob reached out and gently grasped the young man’s shoulder.

Baxter immediately recoiled from him.

“I’m sorry,” he began reflexively. “I know this must all come as a shock. To find yourself in the middle of a vampire civil war is probably not what you would have wanted out of your summer break.”

A small smile touched the simian’s face. “Would you believe I sort of prepared for that? What I wasn’t prepared was for you to come back to life.”

That was a surprising comment. Jacob laughed softly. “You can’t ‘come back to life’ if you were never alive.”

“You’re… dead?”

Jacob tapped his chest. “Dead. Hollow. Empty. When death has no grasp on you, life has no meaning.” He glanced over to the blur of motion around him. “Isn’t it funny how opposites define one another? Our lives are only given meaning by the constant threat of death. Even now, these immortal vampires are more alive than they’ve ever been because of the looming threat of destruction by the Sanguintiir.”

“But… you genuinely can’t die, can you?”

He shook his head sadly. “No.”

“Because… you’re afraid to?”

That question cut deep into his soul. He had told Frostfire many times, with all possibilities at his fingertips, it was within the realms of his powers to just end it. Ironic that the only person that could ever truly kill him was himself. Ending his torment would be simple. So why didn’t he just take the avenue of self-destruction? In his current state, he had to wonder if he was genuinely afraid of death.

“I am,” he answered. “But not for the reason you think.”

“Do you get an afterlife?”

Jacob snorted. “Kid, I am living the afterlife. I finished my story a long, long time ago. I dedicated my afterlife trying to help others.” He looked distantly towards the horizon just as Elizabeth began drawing tall, dark curtains over the massive windows. “No. The reason I’m afraid of death is because I’m genuinely scared of what’ll happen to all existence if I’m not there to help protect it.”

Baxter’s confusion was palpable but he took a few moments to consider his own words before articulating his fears.

“You ever been in a position where you genuinely feel like too many people rely on you?” he asked. “That if you fail, you’d be letting way too many people down? So you just keep going because you just can’t let yourself falter?”

The primate let out a little, bitter laugh. “Back in college in California I was in this group project where no one else was doing anything. I had to do everything or we’d all fail. But I don’t think that’s what you mean, is it?”

A little chuckle left his muzzle and he patted Baxter’s shoulders lightly. “It’s kind of the same.” He reached out ahead of him, grasping at a ghost. “I’ve built this entire mythos around me. I’ve become the very foundation of an entire network of realities. People depend on me on a cosmic level. Countless people, countless possibilities. I’ve been something to someone. A hero, a villain, a mentor, a motivator. But more than anything, I’ve been a constant to them. They’ve built their lives and eternities around the knowledge that I will always be there if they need it. Now just imagine what will happen when these vast and powerful people learn that the guy that’s supposed to be a universal constant just… isn’t there anymore.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head sadly. “It’s like Frostfire’s damn Prime Reality Constant.”

Baxter’s hand gently fell on top of his paw. “Now look who’s making everything about himself.” The young monkey gave him a little smile. “I can’t even begin to think what you’re going through. But maybe give everyone else a little more credit?”

The Writer of Reality took a deep breath, held it and cast his gaze around him. Once again, he watched the Crowes move to protect their home. None of them had come to him to resolve their problems or shield them from the Sanguintiir. No doubt they knew he could but for the moment, they didn’t.

“How about we go see if a bunch of useless protagonists we can be of use?”

Baxter nodded, offering a little smile and then strode forward. “Ev,” he declared. “Where can we help?”

The big tiger suddenly stopped a few feet away, regarding them with a look of surprise as if he remembered they existed. “I don’t -”

There as suddenly a knock to the door.

Jacob tilted his head and canted an ear. “Maybe we should answer the door.”

“Don’t!” exclaimed Everett.

“Please,” he responded, waving a paw over his shoulder and heading towards the front of the house. “It’s clear there’s no rule against vampires crossing thresholds uninvited and even then, those assholes made their way in without it when they crashed dinner last night. I doubt they’ll just appear at your doorstep and declare ‘we’re here to kill you now’.”

There were no further protests though he heard the commotion and movement stop behind him. All the Crowes were now watching him approach the door. He pulled it open without looking to see who it was. Part of him would have laughed if it was a few young scouts peddling cookies from the local summer camp. That thought sent his heart plummeting as he opened the door.

What about the civilians?

The vampire cheetah on the other side of the door took his stunned expression as a reaction to his appearance.

“Hello,” said the feline, bowing his head slightly and pressing a paw against his chest. “My name is Kristof. Kristof Crest. I came here to talk.”

Jacob momentarily switched on his Eyes of Chaos, peering into the encampments and other rental properties around the Lake. So far, none of them had been attacked. Kids were playing out in the lake while camp counselors watched on, oblivious to the vampires lurking in the shadows. Vacationers milled about their wooden cabins, enjoying the peaceful waters of the Lake and breathing in the cool, crisp air.

Switching back towards Kristof, the glow in his eyes fading back into their dark blue, he focused on the cheetah. “Alright,” he began slowly, folding his arms. “Say your piece, Mr. Crest.” He stepped aside and gestured into the home. “Or would you prefer to speak inside where it is less likely your act of betrayal would be overheard by your fellow Sanguintiir?”

Kristof visibly bristled.

“Don’t let him in!” Frostfire barked. “That guy is one of them!”

Appraising the cheetah one more time, the Writer of Reality shook his head. “Yes, he’s a member of the Sanguintiir but he’s not allied with Victor. At least not anymore. Come in.”

With a nod of thanks, Kristof stepped into the home, Jacob shutting the door behind him. The cheetah didn’t offer any pleasantries and went straight to the point. “Victor has gone insane. He was practically ecstatic when he called upon the Sanguintiir leadership to send reinforcements to attack.”

That was likely why the erstwhile son of Leopold and Elizabeth needed several hours before attacking. Mustering an army of vampires was likely to take a while. Jacob exchanged brief glances with Frostfire. Though the big grizzly was baring his fangs at Kristof, he caught Jacob’s glance and returned a brief nod. That settled the bear’s nerves a little and he turned his attention back to Kristof.

“But the Sanguintiir are not going to give him these reinforcements,” Kristof continued grimly. “From the very beginning, it was very clear that he is an ambitious mewling looking to claw his way to power. His marriage to Desdemona was a means to an end. He promised her slaughter and blood.” Kristof scowled, long fangs flashing. “I am fairly sure the reason she agreed to the arrangement was because he promised her vampire blood. Something forbidden amongst the Clans.”

The lure of exotic prey. How many lunatics were dragged into a world-ending conflict on such a thin premise?

Kristof turned his golden eyes towards Jacob. “But now I’m afraid that she is after you.”

The No One could not help but smile a little. What more exotic prey could there be than a reality bender who could defy death itself. No doubt she saw this as an opportunity for endless slaughter.

“To be fair,” he began. “She did kill me first.”

The cheetah in the pinstriped suit and red tie shook his head. “That’s not how he spun it to the Sanguintiir. To them, you attacked first. A knee-jerk reaction from superheroes towards our kind.”

“So the race card. Got it.” Jacob tilted his head to the side. “I doubt your leadership bought this tale especially if you are here reporting that you knew Victor was a power-hungry leech.”

Kristof nodded. “Officially, I am his bodyguard. Unofficially, however, I am an enforcer of the Sanguintiir sent to keep an eye on him.”

“What about the others?” Everett asked. “Where do they stand?”

“Sergei, the lion, is his ‘best friend’.” The feline vampire even went so far as to form air quotes. “Phillipa, the jaguar that can turn into a feral, is Desdemona’s handmaiden. Her closest ally from all appearances.” Kristof ran his finger over a ring he had on his left paw, gliding his pawpads over the large ruby there. “They will remain by his side even if the Sanguintiir will stay their hand for now.”

“For now?” repeated Scott.

“Yes,” answered Kristof.

Even as the cheetah began to lay out exposition on vampire politics, Jacob already knew where the tale was going. The Sanguintiir were not going to get involved in a war incited by one of their own against the superheroes which included Dracula. Especially not against an unranked, undying reality bender. Whether or not Victor had divulged Jacob’s abilities or Kristof had, it was clear that the all-feline vampire Clan was not going to risk a confrontation that could end them. However, they were also not going to withdraw from a potential opportunity.

Getting rid of the Crowes would remove a thorn in their side. Alternatively, if Victor was eliminated, a power-hungry rival amongst their ranks could also be eliminated. They would hem and haw, find some way to delay reinforcements or outright deny assistance. But they would watch and wait to see what came from the confrontation.

“Do not expect any interference from the Sanguintiir,” Kristof concluded. “Nor I.” His eyes turned back to Jacob. “But know this. You now have a target on your back. Whether nor not the Sanguintiir believe that you struck Desdemona first, you still attacked one of their own. To most other vampires, you superheroes are a step above the livestock they use to feed upon. Dangerous if approached carelessly but far from a threat.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” Jacob said with a light smile. “But I honestly feel that they just don’t have all the information they need to make a sound judgment. I’d be happy to send them my resume and even give them the contact of some references.”

Kristof brushed his short, light brown hair back. “Joke all you want. But you attacked someone considered royalty amongst their ranks. Even if you make it out of this confrontation triumphant over Victor, the rest of the Sanguintiir now have their eyes upon you. This is on you.”

A little twang of guilt struck Jacob’s heart. That particular arrangement of words struck a chord.

He had been the one to attack Desdemona. Yes, the vampire bitch had killed him but it was a death that was ultimately meaningless. Something he had just easily shrugged off. Did he have to retaliate? No. But he did. So now, if the Sanguintiir would somehow become the catalyst for a vampire apocalypse, it wouldn’t be because he stood by and let it happen. It would be because of something he did.

His smile grew a little.

“Heh… Clever. Very clever.”

Kristof arched an eyebrow at him. “I am not trying to be clever. I am merely stating fact.”

Jacob waved the comment away. “Sorry, I was thinking about agency, responsibility and consequences.” Lifting his head towards Kristof, he said, “Alright. So why don’t we do it this way? I’m going to give the Sanguintiir an out.”

The Crowes blanched at him but they remained silent.

Kristof arched his other eyebrow. “The Sanguintiir do not need your mercy.”

“You’re mistaken. This isn’t an act of mercy. This is a sensible offer to avoid bloodshed and loss.” Jacob hiked a thumb against his own chest. “Desdemona’s beef is with me. It’s a ‘he said, she said’ scenario here to the vampire leaders. Victor and Desdemona says one thing and you, their enforcer, says another thing. So to avoid further conflict, I’m calling her out.”

“Reaper!” blurted Frostfire. “The fuck are you doing?”

Jacob locked gazes with Baxter. “Putting my trust in others and detaching myself from the center of the universe.” He then turned back towards Kristof. “Whenever Victor decides to attack, tell Desdemona that I’m going to face her one-on-one in the middle of Lake Ulkataka. If she’s even half the telekinetic bitch she should be, she’d find a way to walk on water.”

Kristof narrowed his gaze a little before glancing over his shoulder at the Crowes. “I see,” he muttered at length. Then, turning back towards Jacob, he said, “Very well. I’ll bring your message to Desdemona.” He then bowed his head again and strode towards the door. “Thank you for your time.”

As the cheetah opened the door, Jacob held up a paw. “Hold up there, Cloudy.” Kristof’s ears twitched at the nickname and he even muttered ‘Cloudy’ under his breath in confusion. Turning towards the vampire’s back, Jacob continued. “You didn’t have to come here to tell us about the Sanguintiir’s opinion or decision. Could have just left well enough alone and let Victor spin some lie to us about why he didn’t have an army of vampires behind him. Why even bother?”

Kristof’s paw closed around the doorknob and he paused for along moment. “Whatever your opinion of vampires or the Sanguintiir may be, we have our morals and our rules. What Victor is doing is just not right. He is taking liberties with our laws. I genuinely fear for the future of the Sanguintiir should he claw his way to more power. Placating psychopaths like Desdemona who sees everyone else, vampire or otherwise, as being beneath her, serial arsonists like Sergei or sycophants like Phillipa only cements my fears.”

He opened the door and took a step out.

“I won’t stand idly by and be complicit to their rise to power.”

Then the cheetah shut the door and was gone.

Jacob tilted his head slightly and could not help but admire the cheetah’s integrity. Few would stand up against authority figures let alone stride back to them carrying a challenge from their enemies. Genuinely impressive.

Powerful paws suddenly grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

“The fuck are you doing!?” demanded Frostfire. “You’re going to go off and fight Desdemona by yourself!? Why?”

Jacob smirked and patted the grizzly’s paws. “Awww, worried about me, Sparkles?”

“Worried about the rest of us!”

His smile grew tighter but more genuine. “I know you guys can fight off Victor and his goons. Besides, you’ll have the numbers now. Kristof is bowing out of the fight. I’m going to be keeping Desdemona occupied. The Sanguintiir aren’t going to send anyone as reinforcements.” Lifting three fingers, he said, “So that means it’ll only be Victor and two others. Besides, having someone with telekinesis and hemomancy in the same area is a bad idea. It’s best to keep them apart.”

Scott appeared beside Frostfire and gently prised his paws from Jacob’s shoulders. “He’s right. It’s a clever tactic. And since Sergei has pyrokinesis and you can control both fire and ice, I think we still have the advantage. We just need to be careful about Victor’s powers to avoid any of us being severely injured.”

Jacob nodded and then took a step towards the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Baxter asked. “It’s still too early to fight Desdemona.”

A small smile touched his lips. “Kid, I just sent a Sanguintiir enforcer back to the psychopath that was looking for any excuse to kill his own family. Do you really think any of them are going to take too well to Kristof declaring that not only am I calling out Desdemona but that he’s also not going to participate in the battle?”

With those words, he exited the Crowe home. A few steps down the gravel road, he closed his left eye and partially activated his Eye of Chaos in the one eye remaining open. This allowed him to hone in on Kristof even as the vampire was already a mile or so down the road and on his way towards the lake. Vampire or no, it was still very impressive that in the span of a few minutes, the cheetah had already crossed such a distance.

That smile remaining on his lips as casually stepped forward. Paws in the pockets of his trench coat, he launched into the air causally, rising above the trees but still far enough to be little more than a speck to the casual observer. A few other casual steps forward propelled him after Kristof. In just five steps, he was hovering over the vampire, keeping pace with him as the Sanguintiir met up with the rest of his small cabal.

From his distance, he couldn’t hear any conversations occurring but with his Eyes active, it was like he was watching a silent film with the subtitles on. Still a very foreign experience to him. Were his Eyes fully open, he would see all possibilities and immediately gain all knowledge of the past. To anyone else, that would be a completely overwhelming experience but trauma and countless eternities of having the ability developed a tolerance for the maddening level of information. Now he was strangely intolerant to not using it.

It was only recently that he realized that his Eyes of Chaos had caused him to be blinded to ‘the moment’. Gaining all knowledge was one thing but actually earning and learning it was something else entirely.

“Honestly,” he muttered to himself, still with one eye closed. “It’s actually quite thrilling to learn a new skill entirely.”

Down on the shores of Lake Ulkataka, out in broad daylight, Kristof met with Victor and the rest of the Sanguintiir vampires.

“About time you got back,” hissed the snow leopard. Somewhere off in the distance, a child squealed loud enough that it reached the vampires. Victor looked visibly annoyed and spat in the youngling’s direction. For a second, there was a burst of fear in Jacob’s chest as he feared the vampire might go on a killing spree just because of that one slight. Thankfully, the gray-furred feline turned back towards Kristof. “What did the Sanguintiir say? When will our reinforcements be here?”

“Never,” responded Kristof curtly. “The Sanguintiir leadership has decided that they do not wish to incite a war against the Legion especially when it is very clear that two of their assets are involved. One of which is an incredibly powerful Reality Bender.”

Jacob flicked his ears forward. “So our interference potentially stopped an all-out war between the Sanguintiir and the Legion. Have we already prevented the apocalypse?” He glanced briefly to the side, imagining himself talking to the AI governing the world. “If I were particularly spiteful, I’d say we could abandon the Crowes to their fates but even you know that I would never do that.”

Victor sneered and gnashed his teeth like he was snapping his jaws at some unseen prey. “That’s ridiculous! A duchess of theirs is being threatened! Their very standing in the grander hierarchy of vampires is being questioned! Why would they stay their hand!? If anyone else learns that they are hiding away like cowards against members of their own clan that refuses to drink the blood of sapients…!”

“They’ll what, Victor?” countered Kristof coolly. “They’ll attack the Sanguintiir over making a sound and strategic decision? You’ve painted the Crowes as rebels but as far as anyone outside of us here know, they are obedient members of the clan. You and the rest of the Sanguintiir have taken pains to keep their existence hidden so if anyone were to get a whiff of this, you could just as easily be the scapegoat.”

The snow leopard recoiled for a moment. Then his lips twisted upwards in a dark smile. “Fine. So I must prove myself once again to them. Is that it? Easily done. With the five of us, we can easily destroy them all.”

“Four of you,” Kristof corrected.

Jacob winced. “You know, Cloudy, I had genuinely hoped that you wouldn’t shoot yourself in the foot like that. Thought maybe you’d save your surprise announcement for when it counts but at the same time, I also got that you were the honorable type.”

“I will not be participating in your foolishness,” the cheetah announced, once again running a finger around the ruby on his ring. “If the four of you wish to attack the Crowes while Frostfire and Reaper are still defending them, possibly calling down the wrath of the Legion upon you and simultaneously running the risk of being scapegoated by the Sanguintiir, be my guest. But I will not aid you.”

Kristof suddenly went rigid. His arms were pinned to his sides and he was lifted off the ground. A snarl was plastered onto his features while his crimson eyes boggled in fury. Both Victor and Desdemona were glaring daggers at him. Sergei was giggling to himself while little tongues of flame were dancing between his fingers. The jaguar, Phillipa, remained stoic by Desdemona’s side.

“My dear husband promised that I would spill the blood of vampires,” intoned the vampire duchess. “I was hoping that I would enjoy hunting traitors to the Sanguintiir.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “I am so very pleased that he delivered.”

Jacob wondered why Kristof was not using his powers to dissolve into mist and get away. Then he realized that it wasn’t only Desdemona that exerting her powers. Victor was also using his hemomancy. Somehow, that was restricting Kristof’s abilities. Separating the two was a good idea after all.

“Killing me will only mark you all for death,” Kristof hissed.

“We’ll just say the Crowes did it,” Victor said with a shrug. “After all, you did go to them, didn’t you? That’s why you took so long?” He sniffed the air. “Yes… I can smell their weakness on you.”

“Creepy…” Jacob muttered. He blinked and suddenly he was amongst the trees, hidden from sight. “Cliched but still creepy.” Casually, he strode towards the road and with a wave of his paw, there was suddenly a big, blue truck sitting in front of him. He jumped into the vehicle and started the engine. None of the vampires barely half a mile from him noticed, likely dismissing the sound of a starting engine as another one of the noises that littered the Lake.

“They will never believe you,” Kristof snarled through gnashed fangs.

“But they also won’t have any evidence to convict us,” countered Victor, grinning haughtily. “And no matter what they think of me now, the fact that I will have eliminated one of the most persistent thorns on their sides even if that thorn happened to be my own family will prove my loyalty to them!”

“If you can get past Frostfire and Reaper.” Kristof turned his crimson eyes towards Desdemona. “He challenges you, by the way, duchess. Tonight. Away from everyone else. Middle of the lake. He says that if you’re half the master of telekinesis you claim to be, you’ll find a way to walk on water.”

Jacob straightened and patted the steering wheel. “Attaboy, Cloudy.” He pressed his foot on the accelerator and immediately barged down the road. He leaned on the horn, declaring his approach with enough fanfare that Desdemona and Victor were momentarily surprised. Their focus was dropped and that allowed Kristof to immediately dissolve into mist flee from their grip.

The truck ground to a halt with Jacob twisting the wheel so that the passenger side door was facing the stunned vampires. He pushed the door open just as Kristof materialized, looking just as surprised as the Sanguintiir.

“Get in, Cloudy,” he instructed. Looking past the cheetah, he blew a mocking kiss towards Desdemona. “See you tonight, milady! Don’t be late!”

Then he was spinning the truck around and charging back up the road towards the Crowe’s home. Kristof, panting beside him, let out a few coughs. Jacob reached behind him as if searching for something in the back seat and produced a little juice box. The carton was colored blood red with a stylized, cartoonish bat appeared on the surface declaring in big, bold letters, ‘It’s Bloody Good’. Kristof regarded it questioningly.

“Yes it’s real blood. Nothing synthetic. Wasn’t sure what species you preferred but I figured any blood is better than none.”

The cheetah nodded in thanks, jabbed the little straw through the puncture hole and drank from the carton. “It’s… surprisingly good. For the record, I actually prefer the blood of wolves.”

Jacob lifted an eyebrow and gave his passenger a sidelong glance. “Good to know. Thanks for delivering the message.”

“Thanks for rescuing me. I didn’t hear you approach though I suspect that was thanks to your powers.”

“Absolutely. I figured there was a fifty-fifty percent chance that you’d make up a lie about meeting me on your way back from contacting the Sanguintiir hence the reason you have my challenge to Desdemona or you doing something both brave and stupid like what you did just then. Either way, I wanted to save you.”

“Wanted to?” Kristof chuckled. “Not too long ago, I was going to kill that bear of yours. I find it hard to believe you’d want to save someone who was your enemy.”

Jacob glanced up towards the Crowe mansion. “There’s a difference between wanting to do something and needing to do it out of obligation.” He then threw Kristof a little smirk. “I’d be terrible at my job if I didn’t know the difference.”

That smile faded slightly.

“But I think that was the first time I’ve wanted something in a while.”

❖

* * * * *

When the sunset this far up north, it got dark very fast. Shadows lengthened like black fingers stretching gradually across the grass to breach the walls marking the border of the Crowe mansion. Tension hung in the air like a thick, muddy cloud. Frostfire stood in the kitchen, alone while the other vampires patrolled the grounds. His breath condensed with every exhale. All the lights were off leaving him in relative darkness. The eerie green glow from the digital clocks on the stove top and microwave read that it was just hitting six in the evening. Though his eyes had long adjusted to the gloom, the crimson lines on his uniform that shifted and oozed like magma offered a little bit of light but also made sure that he was a beacon for the vampire’s aggression.

Movement flickered past his vision to his right and he spun, fire and ice erupting from his paws. A strong, striped paw seized his left shoulder. It was not an aggressive move. Rather, it was a gentle grip of reassurance. Almost a brotherly gesture.

“Easy, Frostfire,” said Everett gently. “Just taking my post alongside you.”

The grizzly relaxed, the energies of his superpowers easing from his fingertips. “Fuck man… Couldn’t you at least announce you’re coming up before I burn your head off your fucking shoulders?”

“You could always try,” rumbled the tiger with a smirk. The towering feline leaned against the counter, crossing his meaty arms. Ever so subtly, he ran his fingers up and down his exposed biceps, trying to keep himself warm.

Frostfire let out another breath, a small cloud spewing past his lips. Mirroring Everett’s position, he leaned against the refrigerator and waited. Eerie silence fell upon the mansion. Not even the rustling of leaves or wind could be heard past the glass and walls. Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of movement in the cracks between the curtains or just the faintest flicker of moonlight being disturbed by something outside.

“God how I wish Reaper was here,” he rumbled.

“Me too,” Everett chuckled softly. “But he’s not. He’s distracting Desdemona. Which is good for us.”

Reaper had returned with Kristof an hour or so after the two had left. The Sanguintiir vampire had been rescued by the deadly combination of Desdemona’s telekinesis and Victor’s hemomancy. No doubt Victor had seduced the vampire duchess with the allure of killing her own kind with the promise of disabling any other Sanguintiir’s abilities with his ability.

“Was that always something Victor could do?” Frostfire asked. “Disable other Sanguintiir’s abilities?”

Everett glowered moodily off into the distance, his golden eyes scanning for movement faster than anything Frostfire could ever hope to track. There was the faintest shake of his head. “No. It is certainly something he learned from the Sanguintiir.”

That statement ran alarm bells.

“Are the Sanguintiir actively teaching their members to kill other vampires?”

There was a brief moment when the tiger’s eyes flicked over to him before they went back to roving the dark mansion like a pair of search lights. “The Sanguintiir have the least number of members amongst the vampire clans. Superpowers fueled by blood is rare.”

“And you guys are as close to normal sapients. I mean, you really don’t have any of the vampire vulnerabilities apart from being ultra-sensitive, right?” He got a grunt as a reply. “Makes sense.” Turning away, he continued. “Everyone thinks that there are lot of superheroes out there especially when you have huge city states like Legion City. But the reality is that there aren’t that many superheroes. Not really.”

“Sanguintiir number even fewer.” Everett shivered a little. Frostfire approached and gently rested a paw on the tiger’s shoulder. With his other paw, he generated a small tongue of flame, enough to emit some degree of heat. The tiger nodded in thanks. “On the last census there are barely a thousand Sanguintiir scattered all over the world and various stellar colonies.”

A thousand vampires would not seem that threatening even if they were capable of biting and infecting others. However, the Sanguintiir was one vampire clan amongst dozens of others.

“So you guys have to practice defending yourselves,” Frostfire concluded. He briefly glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes from seven. “I suppose that’s also why they were so obsessed with getting you to make more Sanguintiir. I suppose the five of you refusing to bite another sapient was a big blow to them.”

Everett smirked softly. “They were… not very happy about the decision.” He closed his fist tightly and Frostfire could swear the sound of metal grinding against metal creaked beneath the tiger’s knuckles. “I’m not just incredibly strong, you know. Were I to apply myself and have blood from an ursine sapient through my veins, one of my blows could immediately kill a vampire. The Sanguintiir were already considering making me one of their executioners before I… defected.”

Frostfire had forgotten that Everett’s preferred blood came from bears. Feasting on feral bears likely maintained his supernatural strength even above the average Sanguintiir. In the fight for survival, however, he had to wonder if it was worth offering him some blood just so that they could make it through to the next dawn.

“I know that look,” Everett said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “I won’t drink your blood.”

“Not even if it means life or death?”

The tiger gently pushed his paw holding the flame up away. “A life won in dishonor is a life not worth living. It is one of the reasons I didn’t want to turn Baxter. It was through deception and subterfuge that Victor became a Crowe and look how he turned out. I do not want that to happen to Baxter.”

Frostfire’s rounded ears twitched. “Speaking of… He’s safe, right?”

“Yes, of course. We have him in the wine cellar. He’s got a phone to call for help and we’ve barricaded the door. It’ll take time for anyone, even Victor, to break through. Alice and Scott will know well before hand if they decide to go for him.”

“As long as they aren’t occupied,” warned Frostfire. “And are capable of warning us. But since Kristof isn’t fighting, we’ve got the numbers.”

Everett snorted at him. “Numbers were never a factor for the Sanguintiir. They’ve survived this long amongst the warring vampire clans with the least number of members, remember?”

Frighteningly true and a chilling reminder that Frostfire couldn’t get too confident. There was a flash of movement from the edges of his periphery. Just the clock striking seven.

“Tell me something,” began the tiger. “You can control two elements. Fire and ice. By all accounts, you should be a powerful superhero. How come you’re still just a Rank F?”

Frostfire snuffed out the flames in his paw and turned away. The air grew chilly all over again. “Heroes are ranked against five criteria. Intelligence, Strength, Endurance, Agility and Adaptability. Then there’s ‘Potential’ which you aren’t told until after you leave training. The first five attributes are pretty important and help with your popularity. If you make it up to B-Rank and above, publicists will do whatever they can to sell you on those five. But really, you main ranking is based on Potential.”

He made a fist and tapped the side of his head with his knuckles, flexing a bicep in the same movement. “I’ve got pretty high Strength and Endurance. Decently fast because of my powers. Failed any Intelligence classes and my instructors told me I had a better chance of adapting to a rapidly changing situation than a brick does of gaining sentience and superpowers.”

“Harsh.”

“Yeah. But like I said. None of that mattered. My Potential was terrible. That is what got me in F Rank.” Frostfire shook his head and lumbered back towards the fridge. “I’m not creative. I’m not adaptive. None of them saw any future where I would grow or develop with a lot of training or trauma. I follow instructions well but unless you told me to grow and develop in any particular way, they said I would just do the same thing over and over again without complaint.” He drew circles in the air with a claw. “Hell, I lived for years on protein bars because that’s what I was used to eating back in Legion City. It wasn’t until Reaper started cooking for me that I remembered there’s other things to eat out there.”

He lowered his muzzle. In the darkness and the way the lighting fell upon his ursine features, his little smile was hidden.

“Don’t know if he realizes it but Reaper has actually been forcing me to grow.”

Everett frowned at him. “I see. He certainly seems to be an agent of change. He hides it well but I can see the pain behind his eyes. That exhaustion and weariness. Like he’s being dragged around kicking and screaming being forced to do something. It is something he wants to do but I think he would prefer to have more… agency in what and how he does it.”

Frostfire lifted his gaze and regarded the tiger. “Talking about you and Baxter?”

“Was it that obvious?” snorted the vampire. “I love Baxter. He… He disarms me.” Chuckling softly, the striped Crowe said, “I have lived a long time, Frostfire. It has been decades since anyone even came close to discovering who we were. Things became routine. Unchanging. I didn’t want them to change. But then Baxter happened and…” Everett dipped his muzzle down to hide his smile but the way they were standing, Frostfire could see it. “… and suddenly, I wanted to change. I wanted to change for him. He has this strong will about him. We vampires often consider ourselves this immovable mountain. But Baxter…? He was the unstoppable force that might just turn the mountain into rubble.”

Then Everett snarled, his fangs flashing in the scant light. “But then there are these times that he infuriates me. It boils my blood. For a vampire, that’s something. He makes me feel things. Things I haven’t felt in a very long time.”

The ursine superhero nodded in understanding. “Yeah. I get that. It wasn’t as long as you but I was in a static place for a while. Reaper changed that. Won’t say that it’s been constantly fun but things are changing. I’m happy for it.” He reached out and patted Everett’s shoulder. “Just take it from me, though. Don’t let him drive the whole way through your life. It’s your life. Your hands are on the wheel. Don’t let him be the backseat driver. He’s got his own life. Don’t let him take over yours.”

“Are you letting Reaper do that to you?”

Frostfire chuckled and released the tiger’s shoulder gently with a pat. “I’m here because I want to be. Not because he’s forcing me.”

A high-pitched giggle emerged from the shadows accompanied by two tongues of flame that illuminated part of the kitchen. “When I’m done with you, teddy bear, you’d wish you had decided to stay the fuck away.”

It was the pyromaniac lion.

The Sanguintiir were here.

“Sergei,” snarled Everett.

Sergei licked his lips, tongue sliding over his long fangs. There was blood smeared against his chin. The vampire had fed recently. “I’m going to make you pay for what you did to me out in the field, you orange bastard.”

Everett took a step forward but Frostfire held him back by gripping his shoulder and stepping forward. For a second, he glanced at the clock. 7:15 PM. “Stick to the plan. If he’s here, that also means Victor and Phillipa are too. You need to find them and stop them before they get to Baxter.”

With a snarl at Sergei and a nod of affirmation towards Frostfire, Everett was running of, basically a blur to Frostfire.

“You think you can take me on all by yourself, cub?” taunted Sergei.

The lion was suddenly gone. Two seconds later, Frostfire felt the cold tips of those fangs brushing against his neck and the lion’s cold claws gripped his cheeks as he was forced to expose his neck.

“You can’t even keep up with my speed,” hissed the Sanguintiir.

Frostfire smirked. “It sure is cold in here, huh?”

Sergei suddenly yowled in pain and scrambled away from him. Not with supernatural speed but with the normal speed of a man suddenly and surprisingly being hurt. The lion tumbled over the kitchen counter, crouching on the marble before gripping his left thigh. There was a patch of ice against his pants shaped like Frostfire’s pawprint. That ice was slowly spreading but stopped the moment the lion swiped at it with a flare of flames.

“You think that’ll stop me?”

“Not right away,” Frostfire answered stepping back confidently as a mist of cold began emerging from his fingertips, turning the fur around his paws white. “But I just froze any blood that was flowing through your veins in that area. When blood freezes abruptly without any of the proper materials, the cells burst and can’t be used. I just made some of the blood in your veins useless. From what I learned from the Crowes, you need at least some blood flowing through your veins to be able to use your powers.”

The lion’s lips twisted upwards in a confident snarl. “You think that freezing a little bit of the blood in my veins will stop me?” He thrust his paws forward, jets of flame immediately launching from his fingertips straight at Frostfire.

The bear lunged for the ground, combat rolling forward and immediately putting some distance between himself and his opponent. Just as he was getting to his feet, Sergei lunged at him, surging through the flames and colliding with his back. Frostfire threw himself forward, allowing himself to tumble again and use his greater weight to carry him forward to crash against the refrigerator. Sergei’s grip around him remained strong but he reached back, grabbing what part of the lion he could and channeled his freezing powers through it. Sergie, likewise, reached forward, seizing the sides of his face and sent burning flames straight against his flesh.

Both of them cried out in pain but it was Sergei that let go first.

The lion jumped back off him, crashing to the ground for a moment while a sickening crack filled the air. Frostfire scrambled to his feet, sucking air through his fangs as his face stung.

One of the reasons he remained an F Rank hero was that he could only channel his powers through his paws and feet. No flames or frost could be generated from the rest of his body. That said, he still developed a resistance to extreme temperatures. His flesh stung and the smell of burnt fur stung his nostrils but he wasn’t debilitated.

Sergei, however, had most of his thighs covered in ice.

“Bastard,” snarled the vampire, immediately shooting flames into his limbs to melt the ice. “I’m going to enjoy burning you to ash!”

“Then you won’t be able to replace the blood you’ve lost,” he countered. “Not only from what I’ve frozen but also what you’ve been using to generate your fire.”

“I’ve got plenty of blood to beat you!”

“Sure you do. Too bad you can’t get it to flow through your goddamn veins fast enough.”

The lion scowled at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Frostfire held up both his paws. The white fur had advanced up to his elbows. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s pretty damn cold in here.” He got a scowl for that though he wondered if that was partially because Sergei’s teeth were chattering. “I learned something about you vampires in my time here. You don’t stay warm like other mammals do. The blood in your veins is put into a weird state of stasis.”

Sergei slowly got to his feet. “So!?” he barked. His legs stumbled out from underneath him and he was forced to catch himself on the kitchen counter. Crimson eyes went wide as a realization just dawned on him.

“Everyone slows down in the cold,” Frostfire said, each word he uttered condensing in front of him. “Even vampires. Blood is flowing slower through your veins. You’re still faster than I am. Stronger too. But it’s taking you longer to consciously use it. Even your pyrokinesis is taking a bit longer to summon, isn’t it?”

“You - You… You think a little c-c-cold will stop me?” Sergei stammered, visibly shivering now. “I can j-j-just use my ability to warm me up!”

“Then why don’t you?” challenged the bear. A low growl was his only reply. “You won’t, will you? Because that would be using up your blood.”

Bringing up his fists in a boxing stance, Frostfire crossed the distance between them and unleashed a vicious right jab. Diamond-hard ice encased his paw and impacted against Sergei’s jaw with a satisfying crunch. The lion vampire reeled, staggering back and clutching his face while letting out a loud yowl. No blood exploded from him as a layer of ice wreathed his muzzle, freezing the blood vessels underneath and causing him immense pain.

Frostfire pushed his advantage. All of Sergei’s defenses were directed to his upper body. So he went in low and unleashed a powerful body blow right into the vampire’s kidney. The instant his ice-covered knuckled collided with the vampire’s body, the white fur spread halfway up his bicep. Icy spears jutted out of his knuckles and pierced the lion’s flesh.

Sergei let out another scream, yanking his paws away from his face just as the ice was melting. But with how cold Frostfire was actively keeping the kitchen, what ice had melted went right back to freezing over the moment the lion pulled his warm hands away.

The bear pulled his fist away and peppered Sergei with a rapid-fire flurry of punches, driving the vampire further and further back. The lion could only hold up his arms in front of him as the constant impacts bit into his forearms, tearing at the flesh and creating an increasingly large layer of frost on his tawny fur.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Each impact was like striking marble. Cracks were appearing but each hit also sent out pangs of pain up Frostfire’s arms with stinging sensations emanating from his knuckles.

BAM! BAM!

Blow after blow, he pushed Sergei back until the lion was forced past the kitchen island and came dangerously close to one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows. Frostfire immediately pivoted to the to the right, sending roundhouse blow that directed the lion away from the fragile glass.

The move cost him.

That one second, that one moment where he had to shift his weight and redirect his attack was enough for the vampire to find an opening.

Sergei took the impact but immediately became a blur of motion. Frostfire couldn’t keep up. All he could feel was the vampire’s fist striking his left flank, just missing his ribs. Pain shot up from his bruised internal organs but he immediately ignored it and grabbed the lion’s fist partially embedded into his muscled obliques. Ice shot up the lion’s forearm, rendering more of his blood stores useless. The lion ignored the pain and grabbed Frostfire’s face with his other paw.

The grip of those fingers was like a vice. Claws were digging past his fur and right into his flesh with all the mercy of cold, unfeeling steel. That metal began to heat up rapidly and Frostfire managed to wrench his face away just as a burst of white-hot flame exploded from Sergei’s palms. The flames still licked at his ears but it was minimal damage compared to what would have happened had he stayed. That movement forced him to release his grip on Sergei.

Both fighters gave one another space, about ten feet between them.

Sergei panted for a few moments before a dark grin crossed his features. “Good job, hero. You’ve survived longer than most prey.” He straightened, the ice on his arm melting away. “But that’s all you’ve done. Survive. You’ll wear out.”

There was a boom and the sound of fighting from somewhere else in the mansion. Frostfire fought the urge to look in the direction of the noise. Instead, his eyes briefly glanced over the clock right behind Sergei.

It now read 7:45 PM.

Just a little longer.

“I was disappointed when Victor told me to come after you,” the lion growled, holding up both his paws. Crimson flames erupted from his palms, growing brighter and brighter. Even from the distance between them, Frostfire could feel the heat emanating from those flames. “But you’re fun. Clever. Strong. But it won’t be enough.”

The flames in his paws intensified, rapidly warming the kitchen.

Frostfire exhaled. His breath was no longer condensing in front of him.

“You managed to tickle me,” Sergei continued to mock. “But even at your best, I am way stronger than you are. You can’t beat me.”

Frostfire narrowed his gaze. “You think this is my best?”

Ice shot out of his right paw, quickly forming into a large, crystal axe. He hurled it at Sergei’s head. Unsurprisingly, the lion immediately threw his paws forward, unleashing a torrent of flames to melt the weapon in mid-flight. What that did, however, was block his view of Frostfire even for a brief moment. They had purposefully kept the kitchen dark because even bursts of light like that would force the average person’s eyes to rapidly adjust. For vampires, who were extra-sensitive to light and senses in general, it was even worse.

Frostfire kept low and scrambled across the ground towards the kitchen island, his paw dragging behind him. A layer of ice clung to ground where his claws passed, scraping against the surface of the frozen water and letting out a loud screeching noise. The sound irritated Sergei and made him spin towards the bear who jumped over kitchen island and landed squarely in a crouch. Again, he generated a layer of ice against the counter and ran his claws over the surface just to fill the air with that teeth-grindingly irritating noise.

At the same time, he reached out with his free paw towards the stove and began switching the gas on without allowing it to ignite.

A quick glance at the clock.

7:50.

Ten more minutes… he hoped.

The sound of fighting escalated around the house.

“Hear that?” laughed Sergei, causing his flames to subside. “Victor and Phillipa are winning.”

Frostfire created two short daggers of ice in his paws and jumped out from behind the counter, hurling them where he last heard Sergei. The vampire was not there and the daggers just sailed through the air to collide with a nearby wall. A blur appeared from the corner of his eye and collided with him. The lion’s cold, icy fingers wrapped around his windpipe and easily hefted him up into the air despite the size difference between them.

The bear seized Sergei’s forearm and ice immediately began to encase the lion’s flesh.

“Do you think you can freeze my entire arm before I can snap your neck!?” hissed the vampire with an evil glint in his eyes.

“N… No…” Frostfire choked. He glanced over at the clock. 7:52 PM. He was out of time. He reached out towards the stove with his other paw. Crimson flames appeared at his fingers tips. Sergei followed his gaze and noticed that all the burners on the stove top were currently spewing gas everywhere. “But I sure as fuck can make you hurt for the pleasure.”

A jolt of flame shot from his paw and the instant it got just an inch from his palm…

Whoosh!

The kitchen flared up in a huge surge of fire. Sergei - despite possessing pyrokinetic powers - screamed and his grip around Frostfire’s neck loosened. There was enough time for the bear to immediately generate enough ice to form a thin layer over his body before the flames surged through the rest of the oven’s interior workings and hit the gas pipeline.

BOOM!

Frostfire shut his eyes tight and crossed his arms over his face, tucking himself into a ball. The blast sent him flying right out the nearby window, shattering the glass. The sting of glass, shrapnel and flames cut into his body but thankfully not over any vital organs.

BAM!

The impact on the ground was a different matter. Fighting through the pain, he untangled himself and got to his feet. The movement was a little too fast for him and a spell of dizziness rocked his brain, one he again fought hard to ignore.

Flames were starting to spread across the Crowe mansion. A little earlier than planned but it was either that or have his neck snapped by a psychopathic vampire.

Speaking of which…

He cast his gaze around, searching for Sergei.

That high pitched laugh came from a short distance away. The lion was on the floor, wreathed in flames but undisturbed by the way the fire burned away his clothing. The Sanguintiir vampire slowly propped himself up, rising to his feet. Frostfire’s heart sank the moment he saw the vampire wasn’t being affected by the flames. Rather, it seemed to wreath him in a halo that accentuated his crimson eyes. Though his clothes were being burned away, his flesh was unaffected.

“What was the plan, exactly?” taunted the vampire. “Try to kill me with an explosion? I thought the Crowes would have told you I can control flames!” Just to add further to his boast, he threw back his head and shoulders, baring his chest towards Frostfire. The fire that was all over him flickered out. “Were you hoping that I’d be so scared that I’d put out the fire for you? Waste more of my blood?”

Frostfire grit his teeth, growling.

“Stupid,” chided the lion vampire. “No wonder you’re just an F Rank.”

A spark lit under Frostfire’s feet and he shot forward, bursts of flame shooting out of the soles of his feet and propelling him at the vampire. He flung ice-covered fists over and over again. None of them hit. Sergei was warmed up. No longer slowed down by the offensive cold. He dodged, weaved and easily danced away from each of Frostfire’s punches.

After one right-hook, Sergei easily caught the bear’s forearm and closed his fingers around the meaty flesh, claws digging into his white fur and drawing blood. The lion kicked the bear’s right knee.

SNAP!

Frostfire roared. His entire knee shattered, the leg bending at an obscene angle. The bear toppled to the ground even as Sergei held his bleeding arm up. The lion, grinning from ear to ear, leaned towards the superhero’s bloody arm and ran his tongue up the crimson-stained fur.

“Hmmm…” the vampire mused, smacking his lips. “Tastes of… mediocrity.”

“Sergei!”

The shout came from the powerful, commanding voice of Leopold Crowe. Through a gaze blurred by pain, Frostfire watched as Leopold strode from his burning home. Right behind him was Everett, Alicia and Scott. All three had Victor restrained. There was a brief moment where Sergei’s eyes widened in shock. Then his lips peeled back in a scowl.

“What?” Frostfire panted, managing to grin through the pain. “Did you think that we’d try to even out our forces? Three of you, six of us. You saw Everett leave.” Sergei flashed him a look of fury, demanding an explanation silently. “We figured the three of you would split up. That you’d think we would send two of us against one of you. But we knew that even two of the Crowes would, at best, end the fight in a stalemate. You also knew that you had no idea what Reaper was capable of. Just that he’s a Reality Bender that can defy death. You’d want to end this as fast as possible before he gets back.”

Victor let out a bitter laugh. “So you all decided to eliminate one of us first and then reinforce the others. Is that it?” He lifted his head. Blood caked into his gray fur. There were slashes across his body and those strange, bloody cracks across his skin like he was made out marble that was bleeding. “And where is your little snack, brother?”

The question was directed at Everett.

“Safe with Elizabeth,” answered Leopold. “We made preparations Victor. Something you were never fond of. This time, preparation won over your impulsiveness. It’s over. Call off your attack.”

Victor locked gazes with Sergei but the pyrokinetic lion just snarled, his grip around Frostfire’s forearm growing tighter. The bear didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

A loud crash emanated from the house and there was a sudden cry. Even though he didn’t know the guy too long, he could still recognize Baxter’s scream. Seeing Victor’s smirk only made his skin crawl.

Moments later, Philippa emerged from the burning home. In one paw, she dragged Elizabeth by her hair. Her other arm was wrapped around Baxter’s neck, carrying him easily towards the group.

“Bax!” Everett cried, his eyes wide in terror.

“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” Victor laughed, blood still dripping from his brow. “What do you say, brother? Father? Will you save your beloved other son or this suerphero you barely know?”

Baxter kicked and managed to wrench his mouth away from Philippa’s grip.

“Save Frostfire!” declared the simian. “If he dies, it’s going to start an international incident! Vampires against superheroes! You heard what Jacob said! It’ll be the start of the vampire apocalypse!”

Victor threw his head back, letting out a throating, raspy laugh. “Yes! Go! Do it! Save the bear! I know you’ve always loved bears, Ev! Let that monkey die! You know he would never have become a Crowe anyway! At least you could start again with the grizzly!”

“Shut up, Victor!” barked Everett.

The firelight glinted off Victor’s ruby eyes, showing the depths of his madness. “Now.” Then he lifted his head. “On three,” he announced. Sergei licked his lips in anticipation. Philippa dropped the unconscious Elizabeth on the ground and wrapped her now freed paw around Baxter’s head, ready to twist it straight off.

“Three…”

“No!” screamed Everett. “Victor! Stop this!”

“What do you hope to accomplish!?” cried Alicia. “You know you won’t win! You’ve been beaten! If you kill anyone, you’ll still be outnumbered and Everett will tear you apart! You’ll all be killed!”

“So what!?” laughed Victor. “Better I die having made you all suffer than live with the cancer that is your weakness! Two!”

Leopold shook his head in misery. “Victor… Where did I go wrong?”

Victor grinned broadly at him. “Everything, father. You did everything wrong. Which is why I learned what not to do so that I could do everything right! One!”

Scott’s eyes boggled just as Frostfire shut his.

“What…?” breathed the lynx.

“Now!” Victor screamed.

…

There was no pain. No sound. At least… no new pain or no new sounds. Frostfire’s flanks still hurt. His arm was still stinging. The flames from the burning house still generated a light heat while the cool night nipped at his back. His broken knee still radiated so much pain he was on the verge of tears.

Time seemed to stand still.

He dared to open his eyes.

All the vampires were staring up at a single figure hovering in front of the Crowe mansion, silhouetted against the raging inferno. The creature’s crimson eyes were blazing in fury while his blood red cape flickered and fluttered in the night. The bat’s lips were pulled back in a snarl revealing sharp long fangs.

“Kneel,” uttered the newcomer.

Every vampire suddenly and immediately fell to their knees. Even Sergei who was forced to release Frostfire.

Frostfire could not help but let out a relieved sigh. “About fucking time…” he grunted.

Vlad Tepes, Vlad III, Vlad the Impaler or better known as Dracula glided slowly towards the ground. Enormous, webbed wings unfurled from his back, partially eclipsing the flames behind him.

“I do apologize for the delay, Frostfire,” he said in perfect English without a hint of an easter European accent. “Flying all the way here from Europe on such short notice still took some time. I was only…” He idly reached into the pocket of his carefully pressed pin-striped slacks to pull out a phone. Then he showed it to Frostfire. The clock on the screen showed 8:04 PM. “Four minutes late.”

Victor gnashed his fangs even as he remained frozen on the ground, kneeling. “You called fucking Dracula!?”

“What else was he supposed to do?” answered the King of Vampires darkly as he came to stand on the ground. He folded his enormous wings over his shoulders. The bat completely ignored Victor and crossed the lawn towards Frostfire. “It is as the young man, whom I assume is Baxter Hawke, claimed. Had this progressed any further, we would have an international incident the likes of which would never have occurred in vampire history.”

He knelt beside Frostfire, examining his wounds. Then he lifted his hand and bit down on his palm, drawing some blood. Without even asking for permission, he pressed his bleeding hand against Frostfire’s broken and shattered knee. The bear sucked in air through clenched teeth and held it as his flesh began to knit back together and reset itself. The pain was subsiding all over his body slowly.

“A superhero was attacked,” Dracula intoned, the rage in his voice slowly building. “A spectacle made in public. Vampire turned upon vampire with threats of death being inflicted. As I understand it, the Sanguintiir have not even sanctioned this attack!”

Victor opened his mouth to say something but the Vampire King was suddenly in front of him. He crossed the distance between them with such speed that Frostfire could have sworn he teleported. Dracula seized Victor by the throat and lifted him easily into the air. Only then did Frostfire realize that the King of Vampires had to be over eight feet tall.

“The next words out of your mouth had better be an apology, boy,” scowled Vlad the Impaler. “I have excused myself from the intrigues of the clans because I had greater responsibilities to the rest of the world. But if the clans have been partaking in fratricide for the sake of clawing over one another for power, perhaps I should return to being Count Dracula once again and hold court!”

Victor offered no response except for a few choking responses. Visible disgust on his face, Vlad threw Victor the ground.

“This spectacle is over,” ordered Dracula. “No more blood shall be spilled this day. That is an order.”

Frostfire sighed in relief and he could see the same expression washing over the rest of the Crowes. Though he suspected that there was still some fear in their hearts considering that King of Vampires had to make an appearance. Their fate amongst the Sanguintiir and the vampire clans as a whole would be decided in the next few hours.

“Now,” Dracula said, his crimson eyes appraising the lawn. “I was told there would be a Sanguintiir duchess here as well. And a potentially unclassified level of Reality Bender.”

That was the real reason Dracula was here. The King of Vampires and a S-Rank Superhero from Europe’s Unity would never have made the trip here if it were not for Reaper. That had been the card Frostfire had played when he made the call. The Legion hadn’t made Reaper’s existence known to the rest of the world. It had been a gamble to get Odin to reach out to the Unity and convince them that a potential apocalypse was on the horizon due to some infighting between vampires. As expected, the Unity did not believe a word they said.

But when the topic of Reaper was brought up… They had to send someone to verify.

And the Legion stipulated that the only person they would allow to cross their territory to verify was Dracula himself.

“They’re down by the lake,” Frostfire said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

“I see.” Dracula spread his wings again. “Then I shall retrieve them.”

Someone moved behind the King of Vampires. Frostfire barely caught Victor launching himself forward but the snow leopard did not go for Everett or even Leopold. His blazing crimson eyes were directed at the weakest person in the gathering…

… Baxter.

“Bax!” screamed Everett and Dracula turned, his eyes wide in shock.

Victor grinned, fangs flashing as he held Baxter in a choke hold.

“Let’s all celebrate this day,” purred the vampire. “For today, we welcome a new member to our family.”

“No!”

He sank his fangs into Baxter’s neck.

❖

* * * * *

The still waters of Lake Ulkataka reflected the clear, starry sky above. The summer camp had a bright bonfire going and the campers were roasting marshmallows. Many of the cabins had gone still though lights flickered within as the renters cooked dinner and settled for the night. Few noticed the lone figure standing in the middle of the lake, her high heels barely touching the surface of the lake. Even fewer noticed other figure approaching the edge of the Crowe’s little pier that shone an eerie green light across the lake.

The vampire duchess of the Sanguintiir narrowed her eyes as the so called unranked Reality Bender stepped casually off the pier and just walked towards her, unaffected by gravity or physics. A cold smile touched her lips as her equally cold heart began to pumped with excitement. For an instant, she allowed herself to blink, saving the moments before their battle began in earnest.

When she opened her eyes Jacob was just ten feet away from her.

“Oh,” she cooed, flashing her fangs. “You are full of surprises.”

“Only because your perception of reality is so narrow,” Jacob answered coolly. “There are theories and philosophers who debate that reality is merely our poor mortal consciousnesses trying to make sense of what is a maddening existence. A lens which we perceive the universe in a desperate attempt to bring order to chaos.” He canted an ear backwards. “I’ve long learned how to dance between realities.”

“Have you now?” she flashed her claws, licking off the last few scraps of blood from that couple she had slain and drained to prepare for this fight. “Show me!”

Her eyes widened, staring at Jacob with a crazed look.

The Writer of Reality lifted one eyebrow. “See? Narrow perception of reality.” He made a show of dusting off his shoulder of some imaginary speck. “You live in a universe where your telekinetic powers are absolute. That is how you see the world. You can’t comprehend an existence where it doesn’t affect anyone or can’t even touch me for no other reason that I refuse to let it.”

She snarled at him. “That’s absurd!” Flashing her eyes at him again, she unleashed her powers at him. There was no doubt in her mind that her powers were working. She was using it to keep her suspended over the lake’s waters after all. And yet no matter what she did, she couldn’t crush him.

“You know what’s equally absurd?” Jacob said, tilting his head and smirking slightly. “A 2024 Honda Odyssey coming out of completely nowhere to smack your arrogant ass.”

WHAM!

Without any warning at all, a silver family van just materialized out of the air right beside Desdemona and hit her at 120 miles per hour - speeds that would have liquefied most people. It did send her sailing and crashing into the lake’s waters but didn’t killer her. That would have been too easy.

“And yet,” Jacob sighed with a shrug. “Here we are.”

A few moments later, Desdemona burst out from underneath the waves, suspended by her powers. Every droplet of water sprang off her body, leaving her completely dry. Her crimson eyes watched as the faint rain of crystal clear lake waters drizzled upon Jacob, dampening his dark blue coat and his dark fur. Her eyes sparkled with realization and she hurled her paws forward. The water droplets she had suspended around her sped towards him at high speeds - speeds equivalent to the might of a pressure washer.

Before they could even hit him, they struck some sort of invisible limit. Each droplet spontaneously transformed into bright, blue and green butterflies that fluttered away, leaving the wolf completely unharmed.

“Congratulations,” he said, physically applauding her. “You discovered very quickly that I made it so that your powers couldn’t affect me directly but I hadn’t applied anything to objects that your powers hurled at me. I honestly thought we’d be trading some blows for a little longer before that happened.”

She hissed at him.

The water beneath Jacob burst upwards. That very same Honda Odyssey came springing up from underneath him. Not at 120 miles per hour but still enough that it should have at least caused him to waver. The vehicle, however, dissolved into a cloud of rust the instant it came within an inch of him. He held out his paw lazily in front of him. Rust particles gathered in the shape of an orb there.

“I am genuinely curious,” he began. “Victor seems beneath you. You’re clearly more powerful than him. While I can see the merit of his blood magic working alongside your telekinesis, I would have taken you as a person that was far more discerning with her partners. Why him?”

“Jealous?” she snarled, lowering herself back to ground level. “Or are you petitioning to join me in eternity?”

“First of all,” he said as the ring of rust turned into a simple, golden ring. “I’m flattered but I’m taken. Secondly, eternity is overrated. Trust me, I’ve lived through it and the ending is very anticlimactic.”

She scoffed. “No one who has truly lived for eternity would say that.” Again, she licked her fingers. “You must think that immortality would get boring. One of those that subscribes to the philosophy that you cannot stand endless life because all your loved ones will die and you will eventually go insane.” She clenched her fist tightly.

Water exploded from around Jacob in the shape of a grasping paw. That very same paw solidified into ice and closed in around him. The wolf merely sidestepped the enclosing grasp, his form flattening into a two-dimensional frame that slid between the icy spires. The moment he was clear, he returned to being three dimensional.

“You are weak if you think that!” Desdemona cried, launching herself forward. Her fist came sailing towards him, flames erupting from around her knuckles. She came within a foot of him before she suddenly stopped in midair, frozen mid-punch.

Jacob shook his head with a calm smile on his muzzle. “My dear, you continue to impress me. Your telekinetic prowess is at such a level that you can modify the chemical properties of objects around you. Freezing water and even generating heat and flames from the air by decelerating and accelerating particles? Really impressive.” He leaned towards her flaming fist and blew on the flames, immediately extinguishing it. “But you also disappoint me.”

Straightening, he pointed a finger at her forehead. “You lowered yourself to be Victor’s tool to get back at his family and make a power grab amongst the Sanguintiir. Someone clever enough to evolve their powers in such a way certainly could have seen his machinations coming a mile away. And yet we come back to the same conclusion. You live in a very narrow reality.”

He flicked the golden ring in his paw at her head.

She was immediately flung back at the speed of a bullet away from him. Her body even skipped a few times on the water’s surface before she plunged into the cold waters again. Jacob had enough time to plunge one paw into his coat pocket before she came surging out of the water beneath him, viciously flinging her claws. With his free paw, he idly slapped aside every attempt she made at his person, coolly, lazily and smoothly turning and twisting his body to deflect each of her blows, never once dodging. Even though she moved at the speed that would have been blinding to others, he could keep up and did so easily.

“Do please tell me why you decided to entertain Victor’s request,” he asked. “I am genuinely curious.”

She snarled and jumped into the air, bringing down an axe kick that would have split a boulder in two. The blow collided with the middle of his head… and Jacob Reaper cracked right down the middle… Literally like an egg. There was even a pool of albumen and a bright yellow yolk that sand beneath the waves as the two halves of him disappeared under the waters.

BAM!

An SUV slammed into her back and sent her plunging back into the dark waters. She grit her fangs, glancing over her shoulder. There he was. Behind the wheel of the vehicle, waving his fingers at her and a casual smile on his muzzle. A roar of frustration escaped her muzzle, muffled by the water and only coming out as a stream of bubbles. She shot away from the sinking vehicle and erupted back to the surface.

She stopped about ten feet above the water’s surface, scanning for him.

The back of his coat brushed against her calves.

“He can’t be that good in bed, could he?”

Desdemona flung around, slashing her claws through the air. Those razor-sharp, blood-soaked claws went through him like he was just made of clouds. His back was to her and he was idly examining his claws.

“You’re not going to be cliched and tell me you were using him too, right?” he continued.

“Why do you even care!?” she cried, flying back a good ten feet away from him. With a cry, she threw her paws into the air. Several, tall trees were wrenched from where they rested on the lake shores and immediately, rising into the air like a group of ominous, dark sentinels. Then she flung her paws at him. Those trees - each one over thirty feet tall - hurled at him with the speed of military missiles.

They got within three feet of him before each tree just shattered into what appeared to be a storm of pine cones. Those very same projectiles suddenly veered through the air and made a beeline for Desdemona. She held up her paws, trying to stop the assault but even with all her strength, she could not stop the barrage. Pain rocketed up her body as the pine cones impacted with her marble-like frame and shattered, sending seeds scattering into the wind.

Thousands must have hit her and yet, despite all that, she remained hovering in the air. Cracks appeared against her flesh, each one bleeding. One particularly nasty gash appeared across her forehead.

“No one ever takes time to consider how long it took for trees like those to grow to their height and majesty before using them as projectiles in a ridiculous anime-esque fight,” Jacob sighed. He finished cleaned his claws and finally turned towards her. “So inconsiderate.” His features turned to glower at the vampire duchess. “And I’m asking why you allied with Victor so I can decide exactly how to deal with you.”

“Deal with me?” she spat, a wad of blood and spit leaving her muzzle. “You can deal with me by having the decency to die and stay dead!”

“Ah if I died with all my unresolved trauma and psychological problems then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Though I suppose that’s the point, right?” He shrugged absently. “If you refuse to answer me, that is also an answer. Maybe I can offset your existence a microdimension. I’m thinking something like one billionth on all X, Y and Z axises. You’ll be off center enough that you will be completely imperceptible to everyone and you will be incapable of interacting with anyone but still be alive enough to survive. You won’t be able to speak. You’ll barely be able to breathe. Nothing you do will matter. You’ll be a living ghost.”

Desdemona flicker her wet hair behind her. “Threaten me all you want. I am not afraid of you.” A cruel smirk touched her lips. “And if you must know, the reason I decided to entertain Victor’s petty schemes is because he promised me the one thing I could never have.” She reached out towards him, closing her fingers into a fist that cracked her knuckles. “The opportunity to kill another vampire.”

Jacob’s eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

“You are weak,” she scoffed. “You wouldn’t understand. An eternity of a deathless existence depending on others for your happiness makes you weak. If you cannot satisfy yourself then you will never be happy. I choose to find my own entertainment in this eternity by hunting those that I am denied.” She let out a bright, mad laugh. Almost musical if it wasn’t framed by the context of insanity. “If the universe says I cannot have something, then I will find a way to take it anyway! Even you Reality Benders cannot deny me that!”

She ripped off her torn blouse, grinning from ear to ear with her crimson eyes glowing. “Rewrite the laws of this world all you want. I will find a way to drink your blood.”

Jacob regarded her with a half-lidded, unimpressed stare.

“Wow…” he began at length. “I genuinely thought you were more well developed than that.”

“Why? Because I don’t give myself off to sentimentality? Because I don’t allow myself to be weakened by others?”

He waved a paw through the air, dismissing her claims. “Oh no. That’s genuinely impressive. Having the fortitude to stand alone in this endless chaos and weather the storm of crushing loneliness while bending the very laws of reality to your whims is incredible. Really shows you have a true sense of self and identity.” His gaze hardened at her. “But what makes you fundamentally flawed is that narrow perception again. Your obsessive compulsion to ‘hunt’ down your desires, as you put it.”

“What is wrong with knowing what I want!?” she roared.

“Nothing. What’s wrong is that you are unwilling to give up on it.”

She recoiled, confused by his statement.

Jacob sighed and tucked his paws into the pockets of his coat, lowering his gaze as he looked down into his reflection on the lake’s mirror-like surface. “You will find any and every way to get what you want. Even break a universe to do it. No consideration for anyone else or the consequences. Sadly, that also means that you will kill yourself and everything else around you just to obtain this ultimate desire.” He lifted a finger. “The thing that would have made you truly admirable would have been the capacity to admit when you were wrong and drop your desires when the cost outweighed the benefits.”

He gave her a piercing, sidelong glance. “But you’re not like that. You see a thing, you want a thing and you’ll get the thing no matter what.” Then his gaze returned to his reflection. “And now I know exactly how to deal with you.”

Taking a paw out of his pocket, he snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, Lake Ulkataka was gone. They were both suddenly knee deep in a sea of blood. The sky was a deep crimson that turned completely black as it approached the horizon. Pillars of blood oozed down from the sky from sources unknown. A sun that had a black core but a bright crimson corona bathed the grim landscape in hues of red. There was no other color in the world except for shades of red.

“What!?” Desdemona exclaimed, her eyes wide. Despite her surprise, her mouth was watering. “Where are we?”

“An abandoned reality,” Jacob answered with a shrug. “Created by a goddess who wanted to experiment a bit.” A light smile touched his lips. “After I handed over her book, she constantly played the goddess of beauty, love and general goodness. A benevolent and loving goddess that treated all her creations and children with kindness and mercy. But, after going through countless eternities like that, she wanted to try out what it would be like to be someone else. You could say she created this reality during her ‘goth’ phase.”

He let out a little laugh. “This entirely reality runs on blood and one simple rule.” Holding up a finger, he said, “The strong survive. Everything in this world is created to challenge anyone who lives within it. Fight, feed, grow stronger. The universe will always create something stronger to try and defeat you. If you can overcome that challenge, something else will come by that is even stronger.”

Jacob turned his back to her. “So here is my challenge to you, Desdemona. Fight through this reality. If you can become strong enough to rip through its barriers and reach me, then you prove that a single-minded pursuit of your desires will be far superior to one capable of accepting failure as an option. No time limit. If you die, I’ll just keep bringing you back into this world if you ask me to. You can always give up at any point. But doing so will prove me right.”

She let out a laugh. “You’re letting me train myself to kill you? Are you insane!?”

“Yes.” He waved a paw over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

Then he stepped out of the reality and into endless white expanse of Naught. There, he conjured a simple, white chair and sat down facing the way he came. Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned on one of the armrests of the chair and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Desdemona suddenly appeared in front of him, drenched in blood and collapsing to her knees in front of him. Jacob tilted his head to the side.

“Twenty-seven years,” he stated. “Impressive. Care to surrender?”

She lifted her blazing eyes at him. Were it not for the blood, she would have been completely naked. Her body had certainly grown stronger as well. However, he could already see the dark universe fraying the edges of her consciousness.

“Never,” scowled the vampire duchess. “Send me back. Let me do it again!”

“As you wish.”

With a wave of his paw, she and the blood she carried with her was gone.

Not two seconds later, she was back. Again, she collapsed in front of him. She remained on her hands and knees for a moment before falling to her side.

“Twenty-three years,” he commented. “They keep getting harder, huh? Give up yet?”

“No!” she cried. “Again! Send me back again!”

And then she was gone, leaving Naught spotless.

This time, he actually got to take three breaths before she was back.

“Nineteen years. How about now?”

“No! Again!” she demanded.

A moment later…

“Fifteen years. Now?”

Her crimson eyes flashed at him and her fangs flashed in fury. “Again!”

Gone… only to return not even half a second later.

“Ten years.”

“Again!”

…

“Nine years.”

“Again!”

…

“Eight.”

“Again! Again!”

“Seven.”

“Again! Again! Again!”

“Six.”

“Again!”

“Five.”

“Again!”

Jacob closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh. He covered his eyes with his fingers, quietly grimacing to himself as he sent what was left of Desdemona back into that bloody reality.

“Four.”

“A… again.”

“Three.”

“A…a…ag… again…”

“Two.”

“A… a… a… a…”

Only then did he look up, peeking between his fingers. The mass in front of him was far from the stunningly beautiful, cold, calculation cougar that had once threatened and even killed him. It was just a gelatinous blob of blood. Dozens of crimson eyes littered the amorphous frame. Gnashing and snapping jaws filled with fangs and looking more like the mouths of leeches closed and opened over and over again.

It barely managed to utter the words that it knew. Though given its current state, it was more like that was just the sound it made. He doubted it even knew the meaning behind the word.

“One,” he sighed and sent it back one last time.

This time, he was left waiting for an entire minute. One of his eyebrows rose.

Then she was back.

“A… a… a….”

Jacob sighed and rose from his chair, looking down at the bloody pool in front of him. No longer a mass that could be discerned from the rest of the abandoned realm. “Is it sad that I genuinely hoped that you would get over your own ego and actually surrender? Is it even worse that I actually hoped you would take over the reality and prove me wrong?” He tilted his head a little. “The sad thing about our eternal existences is that there is a third option. One separate from constantly striving for your own desires for all eternity and finding the strength to admit that you are wrong and growing from that.”

He waved his paw and suddenly they were back in Lake Ulkataka. Desdemona’s bloody mass splashed into the clear waters, bubbling and dissolving away into the dark surface. The true Desdemona of the Sanguintiir had perished on that abandoned reality a long time ago.

“It’s always being right,” he concluded.

Lifting his gaze, he caught sight of the burning Crowe mansion and his eyes widened.

“Fuck me…”

In an instant, he was back at the mansion. The sight in front of him was one of sorrow and terror. Frostfire stood covered in blood but otherwise seemingly uninjured. The Crowes stood back but were looking at a distraught Everett who was on his knees. The bulky tiger was kneeling beside Baxter who was convulsing while blood was seeping out of a wound in his neck. Not too far away, Victor was cackling madly while Phillipa and Sergei were under the watch of a tall, well-dressed bat.

All of them watched Baxter. The simian’s flesh was turning a pallid gray. Even his fur was turning white and falling out in clumps. Everett could only weep and sob.

“What happened?” Jacob demanded, rushing forward.

“And there he is!” bellowed Victor. “The man of the hour! The unranked Reality Bender! Tell us! What will you do!? What can you do? Will you invalidate the laws that the Great Dracula, King of Vampires imposed upon our world and save that filthy monkey!? Or will you watch as my brother and his pet are torn apart by my venom!”

Jacob glanced up at the bat who was watching him coolly.

Then he glanced towards Frostfire who returned a worried look.

“Fuck…” he mumbled. “This is the cusp of the apocalypse… I was wrong.” He smirked. “I was wrong.”

Lifting his eyes towards Baxter, he approached the two lovers while Victor watched on with a wicked smile. Kneeling beside them, he watched Baxter’s soft, brown eyes start to turn a deep red. His canines were sharpening even as he was crying. The rounded ears were becoming pointed and his fingernails were starting to sharpen.

Turning towards Everett, the tiger locked gazes with him and uttered one simple word.

“Please.”

Jacob reached down and gently took one of Baxter’s hands. “Alright, Everett. Baxter. I’m going to need you to trust me.” With a gentle smile he gently ran his fingers on the back of Baxter’s hand. White fur suddenly began sprouting up from the back of his bare hands, periodically broken by black stripes. “Everett,” he began, “I know you wanted to bite Baxter and I’m sure there is no longer any doubt in your heart about your commitment to him. So now, I need you to do just that.”

As the black and white fur began to spread down Baxter’s wrists and forearm, Jacob held up the transforming limb towards the tiger. “Bite him here.”

“What…?” Everett mumbled. “But Victor already…”

“Ev,” croaked Baxter, teeth clenched. “Please. Will you bite me?”

The bulk tiger managed a smile through quivering lips. With a simple nod, he opened his jaws…

… and bit down on Baxter Crowe’s wrist.

❖

* * * * *

Dracula took a sip from the mug of steaming coffee, his eyes shut and his nostrils flared. The bat made no noise from that sip alone except for when he let out a pleased sigh and leaned back in the cushioned seat. His glowing red eyes opened as he swirled the coffee in the mug and gave a pleased smile.

“This is the most exquisite cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” he said. “What is the brand?”

Reaper shrugged as he took a sip from his own mug which contained hot chocolate and a towering mountain of whipped cream. Apparently it was a specific way of brewing it that he absolutely loved. “Nothing you can get from this world, unfortunately. It comes from a coffee plant that grows on a volcanically active island. As generations and centuries pass, the plant has grown and adapted to the fertile land and constant eruptions. The taste differs depending on how close the coffee is to the actual lip of the volcano. You get a more bitter, almost ashen taste as you get closer. Almost like it’s been double-roasted. Farther away, you get a little sweeter and saltier as you get to the Sugar Beaches and salty oceans.”

Frostfire tried not to be shocked at the statement as he had grown somewhat used to the tangents that the lupine No One often spouted but he still could not help but raise his eyebrows at the statement. Being in the presence of an actual S-Rank Hero was daunting enough but having this cosmic entity serve the superhero who also happened to be the King of Vampires coffee from another world was on another level.

“It is divine,” sighed Vlad. “A pity it is not found here.”

The wolf smiled and leaned back on his chair, one arm over the headrest while he toasted to Dracula who sat across the wooden table from him. Leopold and Elizabeth were seated between them in the AirBnB cabin, looking just as tense as Frostfire.

“Send me your address and I can have a delivery of them each month.”

“You are an interdimensional delivery service now?” joked the Vampire King. “I thought you were supposed to be the keystone that keeps all reality together across countless universes?”

“Don’t remind me,” Reaper grumbled. “And really, I’m just trying to sweeten the deal and thank you for not kicking off a vampire apocalypse.”

Turning towards Dracula, Frostfire said, “Just to be clear, sir. Would you really have brought the full force of the vampire clans against Reaper if he hadn’t done what he had done?”

Dracula’s large, bat ears flicked back and forth a few times. “Perhaps. Tasting this magnificent brew, I am sure that he would have convinced me to do otherwise. However, I would not be able to keep news of his ability to defy the rules I had put in place from ambitious ears. Eventually, someone will have learned the truth and used it as a means to unseat me. Like it or not, the clans would have scrambled at the opportunity to see me brought low.”

That was where the true apocalypse would have begun. Dracula - much like Reaper - was this force that maintained balance throughout their domains. If someone challenged and defeated him, that balance would be shattered. Every vampire clan both revered and feared Dracula but if some other entity proved to them that Dracula’s rule was not absolute, then they would capitalize on that. The laws he put in place were not absolute. Vampire could kill vampire without fear of Dracula’s wrath. Vampires could go around infecting others and starting a war.

And again, if Reaper hadn’t found a unique solution to the conundrum that Victor had put upon Baxter and Everett, Dracula would have been forced to summon all the vampire clans to hunt down and kill the Writer of Reality if only to defend his superiority.

It made Frostfire’s head spin.

The door to the cabin sprang open. Everett, drenched in sweat and muzzle smeared with blood, stepped through the door. Right behind him was a slightly shorter, white-furred tiger with brilliant golden eyes.

Baxter Crowe rubbed the side of his head, one eyes shut as he entered.

“How was the hunt?” Leopold asked.

“Good,” Everett responded, genuinely smiling. “We did learn that Baxter doesn’t quite favor bear blood like I do.”

“And trees hurt when you hit them at high speeds,” the former simian rumbled. “I’m still getting used to moving like a vampire.”

Dracula let out a deep laugh. “You have the time to get used to it, little cub. I built the Sanguintiir vampires to blend in with the rest of society and not be dependent on blood to exist. Drinking blood for them should be treated as a special occasion when the need for their powers or abilities arises.” He lifted the mug of coffee towards his lips. “The preference for specific forms of blood evolved over time amongst you all. It was not something I designed.”

The two tigers took up seats at the table and with a wave of his paw, Jacob created a few hot drinks for them. A warm ale for Everett and a complex espresso blend for Baxter.

Frostfire couldn’t help but compare the two felines to what they had been just days ago. One was a closed off, complicated and conflicted tiger while the other was a demanding, petulant and self-centered primate. But now, their love for one another shone through. Perhaps a little too obviously. Baxter suddenly found fascination with his coffee and lifted the mug towards his muzzle just to hide the blush on his cheeks. Sadly, white fur made blushing very obvious. Their tails were intertwined with one another and Frostfire could swear the two of them were bouncing their feet against one another’s calves under the table.

“To change Baxter from a monkey to a tiger mid-transformation,” Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head in amazement. “Then have Everett bite the tiger half as it spread across his body. I don’t know how you ever thought of such a solution.”

Reaper shrugged and knowing the wolf, Frostfire interjected to avoid any further exposition.

“What will happen with Victor and the others now?” he asked. “Have the Sanguintiir rendered their decision?”

Dracula frowned a little. “No. By all accounts, he did go rogue. My word is enough to prevent any form of retaliation especially since one of his own men who was a double agent for the Sanguintiir had already vouched against their actions. Such an act, especially one that led to the demise of one of their own royalty, would lead to death in most cases.”

“But…?”

“But,” echoed the Vampire King, “this event has smeared the Sanguintiir in the eyes of the other clans. They have always been lacking in numbers and Victor’s ability to control blood is incredibly powerful. They are likely to make a show of punishing him and the other two. Make a case that having lost Desdemona is a blow enough to the rest of the clan that they would favor rehabilitation and training as opposed to execution.”

Frostfire grit his teeth together. “Fuck… So that means Victor can just come back and try again later.”

Dracula let out a little chuckle. “He could. However, that would incite a vampire-clan war which, we know, will destroy him.” The bat nodded towards Leopold. “With the Crowes now established as their own individual clan, albeit lacking in numbers, they are technically under my protection and law. Should Victor attempt another attack, it would mean certain destruction for him and anyone else colluding with him.”

The grizzly nodded and turned his gaze towards the Elizabeth and Leopold. “I haven’t heard from Odin yet about your application as registered superheroes but he’s vouching for me. He agrees that it’s probably a good idea that you guys are considered members of the Legion. You’d have access to our resources and our protection. If Victor does come after you, it’ll mean he’ll face the Legion as well. It just means that if any supervillains decide to attack Lake Ulkataka, you’d be compelled to fight them.”

“As we would anyway,” Leopold said with a smile. “And thank you again for the offer, Frostfire. It is greatly appreciated.”

“It’s a step forward in vampire-superhero relationships,” agreed Dracula. “Alicia and Scott’s abilities would also be very helpful in predicting such attacks so you can take preventative action instead of just reactive.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Baxter asked.

“Cleaning up the wreckage of the mansion and tying up loose ends,” Elizabeth answered grimly. “Victor and his crew had fed just before they attacked us. Left the bodies out in the open. Scott is using his powers to find them while Alicia is using hers to convince authorities to ignore any evidence they have already found.”

Frostfire shook his head. Though he did not agree on the cover-up, the world was not yet ready to learn of the existence of full-on vampire clans. Eventually, the story would have to come out but not yet. Not while the situation was still tenuous.

“Speaking of superheroes,” Dracula said, setting down his mug. “I have a unique offer for you, Reaper. You too, Frostfire.”

Both men exchanged glances before turning towards the King of Vampires.

“The Legion has informed me that your work here is greatly appreciated. So much so that they want you both to enroll in the superhero program in Legion City.”

Reaper glanced towards Frostfire. “Didn’t you already go through that program?”

The question was uttered but Frostfire hadn’t registered it until an entire minute later. His muzzle was hanging open in surprise, eyebrows lifted and eyes wide in shock. “Yeah… but this means… that they’re actually considering promoting me.”

“Promoting…? You mean you’ll go up in rank?”

“Yes…”

Reaper’s expression brightened. “Dude! That’s great!” Then he tilted his head. “Wait… why do you have to go through school again to be promoted? Shouldn’t you already know this shit?”

Frostfire waved away the question. “It’s a whole thing. Regulations and standards change every year. Most superheroes that go through a promotion cycle need to undergo a year of studies again before they are actually considered being promoted. If they pass one year’s assessment, they keep studying year on year until they don’t pass. Where they stop is their new rank.”

“The Legion is willing to consider you both for ‘promotion’,” Dracula said. “Frostfire from F-Rank to E-Rank and Jacob Reaper to go through the Legion’s superhero program to determine his rank.” He smiled slightly. “Though I have little doubt you will fly through the assessments.”

The No One rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It also means that they get to put a leash around me for however many years it takes before I stop being promoted.” He folded his arms. “As much as I appreciate the offer, let’s not forget that I’ve still got a malicious AI that’s trying to destroy the world by hurling apocalypse after apocalypse at me. I can’t stop all that while being cooped up in some superhero college.”

“But it’s not just like any other college,” Frostfire exclaimed. “If we’re going to Legion City, we will be sent on missions and we will get to make our own missions. We will have access to their resources too! We can be anywhere in the world quickly!”

“I can do that anyway,” Reaper said. There was a brief flicker of calculation behind his dark blue eyes then he smiled a little. “But I suppose you can’t and I’d miss having your grumpy ass bitching at me while I save the world. Over and over.”

The bear frowned at him, trying hard not to smile.

Reaper’s eyes suddenly flicked to something behind Dracula and he got out of his seat. The blond-haired wolf stepped past the Vampire King who turned to follow him. Everyone on the table looked on in surprise at the wooden notice board that was suddenly standing in the middle of the room that had not been there a moment ago. A single piece of paper was pinned to the wood which Reaper plucked and read quietly to himself.

With a snort, he turned back towards those on the table.

“Well, Sparkles. Guess we’re going to superhero college.”