It's the last day in July! How did this month go by so darn fast?! *sigh* I can just feel school creeping just around the corner, along with that biology homework I still have to do. (Yay for Queen Procrastination!) Anyway, let's not waste any more time and get started!

"Everything's all set, Jenny," her father said as he stalled the car at the curb to let Jenny exit. "We'll be back at five to pick you up once your appointment is over."

"We're so proud of you, Jenny," her mother called from the rolled-down window. "You've done a good thing."

Needing to see a therapist for psychopaths is something to be proud of? Jenny scoffed. Still, she accepted the commendation, and with a forced smile, waved goodbye to both her parents until they melded in with the indistinguishable mass of cars speeding down the highway.

With a heavy sigh, Jenny pulled her jacket even tighter around herself, shrugged her shoulders to jostle her backpack into a more comfortable position, and with a defiant glare better suited for a delinquent, braced herself for what would come ahead. Climbing the front steps felt like scaling a mountain for all the effort it entailed, and more often than not, Jenny found her eyes wandering distractedly over the features of Stillpoint Mental Health.

The entire building was coated in a sterile, alabaster white, with neatly trimmed hedges, an ivory fence lining the porch, and five grand pillars marking the entryway. The place was pristine, perfect, clearly rolling in the deep, and nothing like Jenny had expected at all. Perhaps it was just stereotyping and too many horror movies, but Jenny had been bracing herself all day to march into an old, dilapidated building, much like a haunted house, with patients in straitjackets and moaning like zombies. At least on the outside, graced with golden beams of sunlight underneath a blue sky, this psychiatric institution looked perfectly normal and innocent.

Of course, the innocent ones always had something to hide.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny placed a nervously trembling hand on the handle of the rosewood door and gently pushed it open just enough for her to slip inside.

Jenny found herself standing in a luxurious lobby room, complete with Oriental carpets, expensive furniture so new and perfectly arranged that Jenny wouldn't dare sit upon it, and a grand crystal chandelier that wouldn't have looked out of place in the mansion of a wealthy patron. You didn't need to see a price tag on any of it to know that this place was rolling in the deep. Even Jenny, whose parents made quite a bit more money than the average American (which was obvious, since Jenny didn't want to think about how much one session for this place would cost), felt small and insignificant next to this wealth.

"Hello? May I help you?" asked a polite voice from the other end of the room. Jenny nearly jumped out of her skin until she noticed the young woman, most likely a secretary, waiting patiently at the front desk.

Blushing in embarrassment, Jenny quickly made her way over to the secretary. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Swan, and I was scheduled for a psychiatric appointment with Dr. Knox at four?"

The lady started typing a few words into the computer to confirm Jenny's information before looking up and smiling apologetically. "I'm afraid Dr. Knox isn't in today, so your appointment will be with Dr. Greene instead. She's the fifth door on the left, sweetie."

With a polite thank you, Jenny started down the hallway the secretary had pointed to. As she walked, Jenny wanted to peek into some of the offices' windows, hoping to gain a better understanding of this place before she went in herself, and she very well would have, if it hadn't been for the tinted glass or drawn blinds obscuring the view. And so, deciding she shouldn't waste any time idling, Jenny entered Dr. Greene's office completely blind as to what to expect.

The first part that struck Jenny when she tentatively opened the door – and perhaps she had been foolish for not realizing it beforehand – was how very unlike a doctor's office it was. No, this place was a study more than anything else, with thick, heavy tomes residing cozily in rosewood bookshelves that lined all four walls of the office, and it made Jenny think of a professor's room or a secluded private nook of a library in that regard. The place had a certain refined yet approachable atmosphere, with comfortable chairs and sofas that Jenny was not at all worried about disturbing, and it even had a hearth with a merrily crackling fireplace, a welcome sight in the cold of January, and in this way, the office could be compared to a sort of parlor room. The final aspect worth noting about the office was the large desk set off to the side, littered with a couple oftrinkets, one or two picture frames, and a shiny golden plaque, bearing the name Dr. J. Greene, that rested proudly upon the desk.

But of course, this setting would be incomplete without describing the person sitting behind that desk. She was a pretty young woman, most likely in her early twenties, with long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, stylish glasses with aqua blue frames that accentuated her own cobalt eyes, and a conservative amethyst-colored dress. When she heard Jenny come in, she looked up from a document she had been reading to flash Jenny an award-winning smile that while perfectly timed, felt true and genuine.

"It's okay, you can come in," Dr. Greene said coaxingly. Rising from her chair, Jenny saw she was of a diminutive stature, only one or two inches taller than she was. "I'm Dr. Greene," she introduced, shaking Jenny's hand. "You must be Jennifer."

"Just Jenny is fine," Jenny corrected shyly, too nervous to make eye contact, instead opting to peruse the details of the carpet.

"Well, Jenny, why don't you just dump your backpack and coat in the corner, and we can get started."

Jenny did what she was told and was then guided to one of the plush sofas by the fireplace, with Dr. Greene sitting on the opposite side, waiting patiently.

This was the part Jenny had been dreading. All during the car ride, she had been practicing perfectly scripted conversations in her head in which she flawlessly explained the emotional chain reaction that had led to Friday night's incident, even going so far as to bullet key notes on her hand with a pen. But now, faced with the actual proposition, all those perfectly worded phrases Jenny had struggled so tirelessly on had flown out the window, leaving Jenny feeling like she was an actress who had forgotten her lines and was now forced to perform the entire play off the cuff. She kept fiddling with her hands nervously as she stared into the fire, unsure of how to begin.

"There's no need to be nervous, Jenny," Dr. Greene began soothingly. "I'm not sure if you were told this, but everything you say in this meeting is confidential. Not even your parents will know the specifics besides a general overview; it's that off the record. This entire conversation is just between you and me." The psychiatrist paused for a moment, searching for an analogy. "It's a lot like confession at church."

Great, Jenny moaned. She had always hated confession, which was mandatory two times a year, and each morning beforehand was spent frantically thinking of three sins that were true yet not so terrible.

"It's just that…" Jenny began nervously, struggling to find the right words, "I've never really experienced something like all this," —Jenny vaguely waved to encompass the psychiatric office— "and the fact that I don't know many people who have had to stoop so low as to this…"

"Needing psychiatric help is nothing to ashamed of, Jenny," Dr. Greene said. "It doesn't mean that you're weak, or needy, or unable to solve your problems, and in fact shows quite the opposite. Realizing that you need someone to help you do what you can't on your own not only shows a sign of maturity but also works out better in the long run than if you had chosen to ignore the problem and let it become worse and worse. Needing a little help is natural, Jenny, and there's no shame in that."

Jenny nodded, still keeping her head bowed.

"I know you may not want to talk about what happened on Friday evening just yet, seeing as it occurred so recently," Dr. Greene said with a tone of understanding, "so maybe it'll help if we talk about something in your past, something you've had more time to sort through. It says in my file that you were kidnapped by a Russian terrorist group two years ago?"

"Yes," Jenny replied in response to the mention of the cover-up story she and her friends had made up to explain away the time they had spent battling Miss Power and travelling to Planet Lexicon.

"That must have been quite an ordeal for you."

"Honestly, it wasn't as bad as most people would think," Jenny began, slowly gaining the confidence to relay her tale (well, at least version modified for the public). "Sure, I was terrified, but I had made close friends with two of the girls who fou— er, were kidnapped alongside me."

At the mention of her two friends, Dr. Greene's face was creased in confusion. "Did you say two other girls were with you?"

"Y-yes," Jenny answered tentatively. "Why, is there something wrong with that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jenny," Dr. Greene apologized as she skimmed through her file on Jenny's history, with increasingly frantic and puzzled expressions, "but according to my information, you were the only one involved in the kidnapping."

"N-no, that can't be true," Jenny stammered. "Check again. Their names are Katerina Margret Sullivan and Syrena Roselli Amoretto."

With a sigh, Dr. Greene skimmed through her files one more time before resorting to her laptop. After about ten minutes of searching the Internet, with Jenny anxiously looking over her shoulder, she finally gave up and closed the lid before turning to face the distraught teenager behind her.

"I'm sorry, Jenny, but there doesn't seem to be any trace of those two girls you think you remember."

"No," Jenny cried, backing away from the laptop and its seemingly foul lies in horror. "No! That can't be true! I know what I saw!"

"Now, Jenny, just calm down, okay?" Dr. Greene said, placing a comforting hand on the grieving child's shoulder as she steered her over to the couch. "Come on, let's sit down. Breathe. The medical reports says that your kidnappers injected you with large doses of a dangerous mix of atropine, physostigmine, and scopolamine, all drugs that can cause memory loss, altered perceptions of reality, and severe, long-term hallucinations."

"I'm not crazy, and I'm not hallucinating!" Jenny cried, even though her reaction wasn't exactly helping her case. "They are real, I swear!"

Then, a sudden idea came to her. "The lakehouse," Jenny gasped, like a swimmer just coming up for air. "Kerry and I spent a week over the summer visiting Syrena's summer lakehouse. July 5th through the 12th. I saw them. That couldn't have been my imagination."

Dr. Greene bit her lip as she looked at Jenny with the utmost pity. "Jenny, I'm so sorry," she began, "but I have medical reports saying that you were admitted into the hospital that week, unconscious and completely delirious."

"No," Jenny breathed as Dr. Greene handed her the official medical documents. Distraught, she buried her head in her hands, unable to believe the already far-fetched truth she had believed for so long slowly deteriorating around her.

"Unfortunately, I can't say I'm surprised at your reaction," Dr. Greene said. "After your traumatizing ordeal, it is most likely that your parents and those close to you wished to spare you any additional emotional upheaval by playing along with your fantasies, hoping that they would fade in time. Obviously, they have not. A sad but common mistake people make when regarding situations similar to yours."

"B-But I still remember them months afterward," Jenny cried, "I called them, emailed them…" Could those really not have existed at all? Was is all just smoke and mirrors? Is everything I believed a lie?

"While there is a slim possibility the drug could have been affecting your central nervous system all this time, I personally find it unlikely. Rather, I believe that while the drugs were cleansed from your system in a matter of weeks, a part of you was still trying to cope with the horror and shock of being part of such a tragedy, and so you especially clung to the memories of the two girls you imagined, as having someone who truly understood the pain you had gone through would make the memory of it easier to bear."

"But I don't remember any of the kidnapping! I…" Jenny stopped short, knowing perfectly well how a rant about being taken to a distant planet and discovering she was the embodiment of love would sound to a psychiatrist. Starting again, she said, "For the past few months, Kerry and Syrena haven't answered any of my messages… and I have no record of any of the messages I thought they sent me."

"A sign that your mind is slowly coming to terms with reality," Dr. Greene remarked wisely. "The responses you thought you received were most likely figments of your imagination, brought on by some lingering, minor damage to your brain from the hallucinogenic drugs."

In dreams, there always seemed to come a point when everything stopped, the very earth was yanked out from under your feet, and you feel into an endless expanse of dark space before waking up in your own bed, safe with the knowledge that none of it had been real. That sensation had come and gone for Jenny. She was now indeed awake, but she kept impatiently waiting to fall back asleep, for that seemed to be a kinder fate, to leave her happily lucid than take away any scrap of truth she had ever clung to in her life. It felt like with every passing second, more of that truth, more of which had defined her and formed the basis of her perception of reality for so long, had been stripped away, leaving her as nothing more than a dry, withered husk of the lie she once was.

Jenny didn't want to cry. She didn't want to scream, and she didn't want to deny, either. The shattering truth seemed to have sucked her dry, leaving her wanting nothing else but to go home, climb into bed, and stare blankly at the ceiling before sleep took her. Dr. Greene seemed to also realize that nothing she could say or do would help Jenny in any way, so instead, she just sat next to Jenny and, like a mother comforting a daughter, held her close in her arms while Jenny stared vacantly into the fire. Despite only having known the doctor for a day, Jenny welcomed the hug, for it felt like the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.

I've lost my best friends, Jenny lamented. I've lost the only friends I've ever had, the friends I never had at all.

After an unknown amount of silence passed between them, Dr. Greene said, "I am so sorry about this, Jenny; truly, I am. I know how much of a shock this must have been to hear all at once, but it would be unfair of me to lie to you."

Finally letting go of Jenny, she stood up and continued professionally, "I think that's enough for this session, Jenny. You should go home and get some rest. At this stage, it's too early for me to tell if you need some prescribed medication, so we'll just have a few more little meetings like this over the next few weeks before I make an evaluation. I'll discuss with your parents whether or not we can take you in to have an MRI of your brain."

Jenny nodded numbly, not hearing a word she said over the millions of persistent questions clamoring for attention inside her head. With more effort than it should have taken, Jenny hauled herself up from the sofa and started bundling up for the freezing cold temperatures outside.

"I know you may not believe it now, but you will get through this," Dr. Greene said reassuringly. "Knowing the problem is the first step to recovery, after all. As for now, I would personally recommend that you try to forget about Kerry and Syrena, and perhaps focus more on making new friends. And of course, if you ever feel the need to talk about something, anything at all, I'm only a phone call away."

Just as Jenny reached the door, Dr. Greene added, "Be strong, Jenny. There is a hidden strength inside you, and you can leave your memories of them behind if all you do is reach out to the real people who care for you. Remember that love is one of the strongest forces this world will ever see."

Jenny held back a sob. Then I must be the weakest person on the face of the earth.

With a satisfied sigh, Dr. Greene settled herself back upon her office chair and began to yank the ponytail free from her hair, letting it fall loose and messy down most of her back. She also took off the offending aqua blue glasses; really, such an annoying stage prop for someone who had much keener eyesight than most of the human race. After fiddling with her appearance further, she decided that she couldn't put it off any longer. With a tsk of annoyance, she took at [out]her cell phone and hit #1 on speed dial.

"Yes? Of course, it's me," she said irritably.

"What a pleasure to hear from you again," Nicole remarked sarcastically on the other end. "Are you calling to tell us you've finally done something on this mission?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Dr. Greene replied. "The Element of Love just came by. She completely bought into the forged documents; the poor girl left my office, devastated."

"Lovely," Tess said, sounding too hasty to bother with cynicism. "I suppose that means we can progress to the next stage?"

"I'll have the serum for you girls tomorrow morning," Dr. Greene replied by way of answer.

"I doubt we'll need it," Tess said, "but it wouldn't hurt to have on hand just in case. Thank you in advance."

"No problem, Tess," Dr. Greene replied with a smirk. "At least you were brought up with good manners."

"Excuse me?" Nicole shouted, followed by the sounds of quiet scuffling between the two siblings as they fought for control of the cell phone.

"Watch it, Nicole!" Tess chided. "I have a knife in my hand! Do you want to be the second murder? Sorry," Tess said pleasantly after she had gained dominance over the device. "Nicole just has trouble with supervisors, that's all. We'll have another update on Thursday to discuss our progress further. Don't worry, we've taken care of Dr. Knox for you."

"Of course," the psychiatrist remarked, smirking at the mention of the former psychiatrist. "Oh, and one more thing, dear," she added with a nasty sneer.

"Yes?" Tess sighed, her phone conversation accompanied by the persistent squelch of Nicole dragging a bag across the gravel-lined ravine. Tess had repeated this conversation in a thousand different alleys, dumpsters, ditches, gullies, and in this case, the side of a railroad track to know what would come next.

"Have fun hiding the body."

Flipping the phone shut, Tess let out an exasperated groan. I hate Julianne.

Workers involved in the London transit system – and really, any out and about Londoner in general – were subject to a very strange sight that evening: Hundreds upon hundreds of foreign travellers, all seeming to be familiar with one another in some way despite being scattered across the globe, had been flocking buses, trains, and many airports, all desperate to cram themselves down into the deepest recesses of the London Underground. Of course, aside from the occasional raised eyebrow and double take, there wasn't much these workers could do to halt such a movement, and most simply brushed it aside as a strange convention of various cultures or something else as equally trivial. But oh, how wrong they were, for this gathering was anything but trivial. Down in the London Underground, at the very heart of the Conclave of Lexicon, the most powerful and influential members of the supernatural community were coming together, and the decisions of tonight's meeting could very much eradicate the foundation of Planet Earth as they knew it.

But Valerie was not choosing to reflect upon the grand scope of what such actions could bring about. The cursed immortal and representative of the United States branch of Project Sion was currently sitting alone at the far end of the huge round table taking up nearly all the space in the room, trying to block out the annoying babble of conversation that would have been difficult enough to decipher even if there weren't over 50 different languages going simultaneously, and was smearing yet another coat of ruby red lipstick on her lips, making them look more ravaged and bloody than beautiful, although, with Valerie's appreciation of irony, that might've been the point.

"Really, Valerie," commented a distinctly French voice disdainfully, "I think you have a bit of face on that makeup; you might want to fix that."

"Watch what you say, mutt," Valerie hissed back, flipping off her antagonist.

A lot could be said about Kaitlin, the French representative of Project Sion. She was gorgeous, tall and statuesque, a model, a donator to charity, charming, amiable, and a vain, self-conceited brat.

She was also a werewolf.

Or, as they so vigorously preferred to be called, an Invulnerable. Well, Valerie couldn't really blame them for hating the derogative, just as Valerie despised the term vampire and many other unsavory names the humans chose for her race of Immortals. Just as Immortals came to angels with the wish to never age and were subsequently cursed for it, Invulnerables had prayed for invincibility from all illnesses and wounds, basically to never be killed (and mind you, there is a difference between never aging and never being killed), only to be transformed into murderous, predatory, unstoppable beasts trained to do the killing instead. It was well known throughout the supernatural community that most Immortals and Invulnerables had a long-standing rivalry with one another.

With this Invulnerable, however, that was not the case. Laughing, Valerie hugged her friend as they continued to bash each other in the playful, non-offensive way that only close friends could pull off.

"It really has been too long, Kaitlin," Valerie said, a ridiculously happy grin plastered on her face.

"Indeed, it has," Kaitlin agreed heartily. "One of these days we must get together outside of our business arrangements."

Valerie was just about to wholeheartedly agree when suddenly, her blood ran cold, stopped dead at the sight of a group of zombies walking towards them.

It was this supernatural denomination that Valerie pitied the most. While vampires and werewolves had been cursed for their desires of immortality and invincibility, zombies, or rather, Unthinkables, had desired nothing more than intelligence or enlightenment from angels. However, the information given to them by the fallen angels was incomprehensible to the human mind, and thus, their brains short-circuited and fizzled out from the overload, leaving them no more than mindless walking corpses, capable of comprehending only the most basic of knowledge and tasks. They were also ingrained with the insatiable desire to futilely try gaining back what was once theirs, even if it was only in the literal sense. Valerie pitied their curse most because while the former two denominations had at least received their desires (albeit twisted, abhorrent forms of them), Unthinkables had lost any hope of achieving any semblance of their wish, and they were also unable to even attempt to make the best of their situation like vampires and werewolves.

Worst of all, Valerie couldn't imagine how they were able to stand walking around every day looking like a person who had never walked into Maybelline in their life, much less went within five miles of a decent lipstick.

All in all, it was a truly deplorable existence.

Recognizing one of the Ireland representatives in the crowd, Valerie politely greeted, "Hello Maggie," with the vampire summoning up the broadest smile she could.

Of course, Maggie didn't reply or even take notice, but that was only to be expected. Valerie had only said it out of the will to treat her like a person, not an inferior despite her condition. But despite Valerie's good intentions, Maggie just continued obliviously on her way, every step looking as if it were as painful an ordeal as walking with leaden weights tied to her ankles. And Valerie had no doubt that if granted the ability to feel pain, then Maggie's agony would have been roughly akin to that. From her fragile, nearly translucent bones limply clung her parchment-yellow skin, some parts looking as though they were rotting away. Her sunken dead eyes leered at Valerie from beneath a matted curtain of unkempt hair as she and the other Unthinkables shuffled across the floor and took their designated places at the table. It wasn't as though they could really participate at the summit, but still, they were a part of Project Sion, and thus were granted equal representation, albeit a pitiful one. In fact, the only group Valerie pitied even more was…

"Please be quiet, everyone!" shouted a ghost, whom Valerie recognized as Erin, the Australian representative of Death's Children, as she hovered high about the chattering crowd. While not ghosts in the typical sense, Death's Children had pleaded for a fallen angel to bring a loved one back from the dead, only to have their own souls ousted from their bodies, doomed to wander the world for eternity. Valerie sighed. All this suffering, only because they had desired something with ill intentions, rather than good ones, for if only they had been pure of heart, their wishes would have been fulfilled, not cursed for all eternity.

"Please, everyone!" cried Erin, desperate to make her voice heard above the din. "Lady Lucia is coming!"

At once, the room went silent as everyone snapped to attention, with many scrambling to find and stand by their appropriate seats just before they were graced with Lady Lucia's presence. Their glorious leader waltzed in, her head held high in prideful yet graceful regality as she was met with the sight of 172 standing at attention, backs straight, legs stiff, left arms down, and their right hands up in a respectful military salute.

Valerie always admired the grace and charisma of Lady Lucia: the way sunshine seemed to roll off her to light up a room, how her gentle smile could set even the most troubled of hearts at ease, and the manner in which her brilliant amber eyes overflowed with love and light. As her name implied, she really was the embodiment of all light and goodness, so strong a beacon, and yet Valerie couldn't help but run to defend her; she didn't need diluted Assimilation to stay steadfastly loyal. There was no doubt in Valerie's mind that Lucia would lead them all into a glorious new era, one where she didn't have to hide anymore, and this horrible curse could finally be turned into a blessing.

"At ease," Lucia began, causing all the Sionites to be slightly more lax in their stance as they took their seats, with Valerie taking her place in between and Yosef and Gershon,the two phantom brothers from Israel.

"Greetings," Lucia continued, holding out her arms in a gesture of welcome, "and welcome to the International Summit of Project Sion. Before we begin, I would just like to thank all of you not only for your presence here this evening, but also for your faithful service to the Conclave of Lexion's cause. Your actions and hard work have been vital to the Infiltration and Assimilation process, and so I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your service."

This praise was met with hearty cheers and applause from the Council, who only settled down once Lucia had taken her place at the head of the table, ready to get down to business.

"First on the agenda," Lucia began, slipping into an official, business-like manner, "is addressing the minor setback in Mexico, where one of Project Sion's operations was witnessed by a civilian."

"My Lady," said Angela, the Mexican vampire ambassador, her cheeks flushed at mention of her country's recent oversight. "I am pleased to inform you that Memory Alteration is being performedon all those involved as we speak. We've also increased security on nearly all of our facilities within close range of the populace to ensure that a crisis like this does not occur again."

"That is good news, Angela. Although, I am afraid I will have to put you and your team on probation, not because I doubt your competence, but rather to act as insurance until we are fully convinced that any threat of human discovery has fully passed."

"Y-yes, Milady," Angela replied, sending covert glowers at a few snickering Council members.

Lucia nodded approvingly before pressing a flashing cobalt button on her wristband, activating a holographic globe that stretched and expanded until it was nearly six feet in diameter, where it then stopped to hover over the entire Council.

"Now," Lucia began, gesturing to the various different countries, most glazed in various shades of red, "with the recent Assimilation of Uzbekistan, Haiti, and Norway, we have seized control of approximately 78.4% of Earth's political powers. I believe that now, when peace negotiations with North Korea and the United Nations are going poorly, this is a prime opportunity for our affiliates in China to—"

"If I may be so bold, my Lady," interrupted Valerie, much to the surprise of the Council, "I believe that with nearly 80% of the world's military power at our disposal, the Conclave of Lexicon should have no trouble with launching a major attack on all currently un-Assimilated countries—"

"I've told you this once, Valerie, and I've told you a thousand times more," Lucia chastised testily, like a teacher impatiently telling a student that 2 times 5 simply did not equal 8, no matter how many times the child claimed otherwise. "I don't care if we Assimilated 100% of Earth, the solar system, or this entire galaxy. The Conclave will not seize dominance over Earth until our scientists can overcome the genetic flaw in halfling DNA. I intend to have all the full powers of a true Lexiconian when I strike, which is why I have sent two of my highest-ranking Conclavian assassins to find the Element of Love. She is key to everything, and I will not have centuries of tireless planning destroyed by impatience and insolence."

Lucia's scolding put Valerie in her place, and she bowed her head in shameful silence.

"We've worked far too hard for it all to slip away now," Lucia continued. "We have fought, we have cried, and many have died for this cause: to bring true understanding to the ignorant, to bring salvation to the undeserving, and to bring peace to a lost and hurting world. And as all of you very well know, sometimes things go so horribly wrong that the only thing that can be done to fix it is to destroy it all and build anew.

"And all of you will be a part of that Great Rebirth. We have all been tormented by some hurt or injustice, but I tell you now that your trials will soon be over. Just as a phoenix rises from the ashes, so we too will rise to build a new world. Our one great advantage is that we have learned from the faults and failures from two planets, and that we will ensure all those mistakes will be eradicated. Planet Lexicon will rise again!"

It was a moving speech, and most of the Sionites present would have clapped, if not given a standing ovation, if it hadn't been for a ghost barging in at that very moment, her already translucent face looking even paler infright.

"My Lady!" cried Angelina, the phantom representing Wales for the summit, "there's… been… a security breach… I don't know who they are, but they weren't stopped by the Consecrated Barrier. Whoever they are, they're not Enclavian, but they know who we are and that we're here."

There was no sound, no movement, as everyone on the Council, even Lucia herself, was frozen in fear, no one daring to make even the slightestnoise as everyone's ears strained to hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing offthe tunnel walls, first quiet, then growing steadily louder until it was like a deafening roll of thunder in the quake of all this silence.

Terrified, Valerie breathed the single sentence she knew was written on all their trembling lips, reflected in all their glassy stares, and etched in the deepest chambers of their hearts run cold.

"They're coming."

Over the countless years, throughout the millions of different interpretations and reinventions of ancient ideas, humans had imagined a whole plethora of different weaknesses for the supernatural. Holy water for vampires, silver bullets for werewolves, iron crosses for fey and demon folk; the list went on and on. And it wasn't too far-fetched to believe; after all, nothing is perfect, and Valerie personally suspected that humans took a considerable amount of comfort in the knowledge that even the most terrifying of monsters could be defeated through the simple virtues of integrity, hope, and love that were so prevalent among their race. However, they had all been incorrect, simply because they were overthinking the matter, trying to twist and fracture the weakness of the paranormal into a bunch of convoluted theories, when the answer had been in front of them all along. There was only one great fatality of the supernatural, and ironically, it wasn't really all that 'super' at all. In fact, it was one of the most natural things on this planet, found in abundance, and if one knew how to use the weakness correctly, such as now, it could mean the destruction of the entire supernatural race.

That weakness was fire.

The attackers knew it, Valerie knew it, and she knew they knew it from the first strike of the match, instantly conjuring up raging barriers of flame that sealed off all the exits before beginning to invade the council room like a voracious beast, creeping up behind people only to strangle them in its fiery grip.

Meanwhile, the inside of the council room was going ballistic. Nearly everyone had either morphed into their ulterior forms or had a weapon drawn and ready, but you couldn't exactly behead a plume of flame. Ghosts were wailing, zombies were moaning, werewolves were howling, and vampires were weeping. All around, there were cries of help, threats, and (from those who still had their wits about them) water, but the most prevalent ones were screams of lamentation as people watched in horror as some of their closest friends and associates melted away like waxen dolls before their very eyes.

And in the midst of it all was Lucia, hovering overhead as she helped to drag any flightless Sionites to safety before they were too badly charred. Her regalia already had fallen prey the inferno, the stench of melting metal clinging to her skin as the halfling shouted orders to any abled bodies and struggled to lift more Sionites from the fiery snares of death, each rescue requiring just a bit more exertion than the last, until it was all Lucia could do to keep herself from collapsing into the flames.

Valerie saw all of this as she lay, broken and beaten from being trampled underneath by so many people, on the one merciful patch of ground that hadn't fallen prey to the blaze. Summoning all her remaining strength and resolve, Valerie deftly avoided the bruntof the fire's rage, leaving her sustaining only minor burns when she finally reached her battered leader. She was flying higher now in an effort to evade the steadily rising fire, but judging by her desperate gasps for breath, that also meant inhaling more smoke than oxygen.

"Lucia!" Valerie gasped, not bothering with formalities in this obvious time of crisis, as she rose to meet the flying halfling. "We have to get you out of here!"

"I'm… not… leaving them… behind," Lucia gasped, her words punctuated by racking coughs in her lungs['] desperate plea for fresh air. She cried as she saw Angelina, the phantom who had first brought news of the attack, succumb to the fire as well, her translucent ectoplasm being stripped away to let her spirit float like a helium balloon to the heavens above. This sight only hardened Lucia's resolve as she grabbed for a trio of Invulnerables huddling together in fear as the fire drew ever nearer.

"Got… to get… everyone… up to the… rafters…" Trailing off from lack of oxygen, Lucia merely pointed upward to the rafters, where several frightened Sionites were clinging to the wood like lifelines. And while it was an improvement from the ground, even there wasn't safe, as those who hadn't already succumbed to the choking smoke were watching in growing dread as the flames began to gnaw away at the wooden beams, just about to give way.

"B-but you need to escape!" Valerie protested.

"There's… no way. The exits… are blocked… by the fire…"

"I know, and that's why I have a plan. You can use your ice breath to freeze the mortar bricks in the ceiling, causing them to contract. Then, the heat from the fire will make them burst apart from expansion, and you'll be able to fly away!"

"But… that… will cause… an avalanche," Lucia said, and if her breaths weren't so ragged from asphyxiation, her voice would have been bordering on hysteria. "I won't… let… all of you… die."

"You can't worry… about us," Valerie cried as she nearly gagged from the amount of soot and ash. "You're Lady Lucia, the Neo Queen Islanzadi, Mother of Halflings, Bringer of Peace," Valerie continued, using every epithet her foggy mind could come up with. "You're so much more important than us; you have to get away. The Conclave of Lexicon will go on without Project Sion, but it can't go on without you."

"I… will not… put my life… above… the lives… of others. I refuse… to have… people… die… for my sake…"

"Every day since I was cursed, I wanted to die," Valerie cried over the dying screams of the Sionites below. "And my God, I died every single day, over and over again, when I remembered who I was and how much I lost the day I tricked myself into believing Heaven would play fair, because it doesn't, no one does, my Lady. Life isn't fair: it's cruel, it's harsh, it's a puppet master that treats our every breath like a toy for its own amusement. The mistakes I made, the people I hurt, the lives I took; guilt tore out my heart and ate it. I always go to sleep hoping that I don't wake another day. I could have killed myself a thousand times, but I didn't, and do you know why? Because I wanted my death to mean something. We all want to die, my Lady, and we're all willing to die for you, because if our deaths can let you live, you will give us the greatest gift we could ask for, better than glory, or fortune, or freedom from our curse. You would give us the chance to die with honor. And I know that might sound like it doesn't matter, but God, my God, it does, more than you will ever know.

"I know I'm being horribly selfish. I know you have a heart, a good and pure, and so I know what I'm asking of you. I'm asking you to wake up every morning to be plagued by the memory of us dying for you, for your guilty heart will take all the fault as yours. In this way, you'll be giving me a piece of your life as my memory lives on in you, lives on as a horrible burden, all for letting me die with the knowledge few have, the knowledge that I was actually good for something in this life.

"We do not want this because of fear. We do not want this because of Assimilation. We want this because of you, and everything you stand for. Go forth, please, and be a light for the world in our place, as you will burn brighter than we ever could. Do not let your heart be dimmed by sorrow or despair, but rather rejoice for the hundreds of loving souls that will illuminate your heart and light your way. If you ever felt the briefest of compassion for any one of us, you will have the courage to let all of us go."

Valerie's speech had Lucia convinced. With a loud whoosh like the air being sucked into a vacuum, the halfing released a powerful gust of Arctic wind that coated the entire ceiling in ice, only to be immediately melted away by the blistering heat of the flames. As the first few stones began to give way, Lucia allowed herself only the briefest of small smiles before the sight of Valerie being burned alive became too awful for her to bear. Summoning up the remainder of her strength, the leader of the Conclave left her people, taking flight in a white streak into the fresh cool skies above.

Valerie breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her last hope of salvation fly away, only to be obstructed by the storm of stone and mortar raining down upon her like hailstones. Filled with an empty resignation and sorrow, she looked down upon the rest of the Sionites, some screaming in pain and terror, others preparing to lay down and die, and still others choosing to leap into the flames themselves rather than have their death chosen for them, even though at this point, it was inevitable. All around, there was carnage, ashes, shimmering ectoplasm left behind by Death's Children as they died, and in the very corner, two figures cloaked in black…

Valerie gasped, only to nearly choke on the sulfur and ash circulating in the air. Through her watery eyes, she could see the two people, who had to have been the arsonists, dart through the flames and avalanches untouched to reach one of the few spots in the room that was not being bombarded with chunks of rock, where a part of the wall had miraculously remained intact, where the two arsonists were beginning to latch hold onto tiny crevices and footholds as they scaled the wall on their way to freedom.

Something dimly registered in Valerie's smoke-clouded mind that she couldn't let those two escape with their lives, not after how many they had killed already. It was such a long way to them, even if the floor hadn't been entirely engulfed by the fire, but as a girl who was about to face death either way, Valerie decided she had nothing to lose by going down fighting.

And so, she began to make her painfully slow way through the blaze. Each step felt like there were 100-ton weights holding her back, and it was as if she was wading through quicksand rather than fire. Valerie whimpered as she felt the scorching fire chew her skin red raw and burn away her lovely black hair before burrowing into her scalp. Beforehand, she had been counting her steps, fighting to gain even an inch of ground, but through the red haze of pain, Valerie had to concentrate with an inhuman intensity just to manage to breathe. As her brain began to shut down, Valerie couldn't hear the screams anymore, her vision was filled with a strange white mist that invaded the corners of her mind, and when her knees finally buckled, she was forced to crawl her way through the fire, often times finding herself on top of charred corpses, their vacant stares leering at her, mocking her for her foolishness for hoping, for dreaming, for living at all.

And yet somehow, Valerie found herself standing before the two arsonists just as they reached the top and were about to make their escape. It was just approaching dusk now, with the entire sky being consumed by the fiery blaze of the setting sun. Valerie sighed. She would've liked to see the peaceful blue expanse of a sunny day before she died. Turning her attention to the fleeing arsonists, Valerie opened her mouth, wanting to speak, shout, do anything to get their attention, but all that came out of her ash-lined throat was a feeble whimper of pain.

Heat was coming off the fire in waves now, and Valerie felt herself falling through a thick, burning red haze to collapse onto a floor that was just as scaldingly hot, where she lay, twitching in pain like a squashed insect. Her breaths were coming shorter now, uneven, and requiring more effort than they should have.

And this was only on the outside. Inside, Valerie was plagued by such a clashing hurricane of emotions that if it were to manifest, it would have easily doused the entire blaze as one snuffs out a candle. Her mind was caught in an endless loop, replaying over and over again the wrongs she had done, the people she had hurt, the atrocities she had committed. Lies, theft, murder; it all came rushing back at full force. During her life, Valerie had believed all these actions were independent of one another, but now, graced with the all too late enlightenment that precedes death, she saw that they were all interconnected, leading up to this one moment of pain. Over and over, the cycle repeated itself, and Valerie was bombarded with regret, awful, horrible regret, both of what she'd done and what she hadn't had the strength to do.

Oh God… this isn't how I wanted things to end. This isn't what I wanted at all. To spend all my life believing I was doing the right thing, only to discover I was all wrong? How cruel, how cruel; it's too cruel. There really is no mercy in this world. I was such a fool to believe there was such a thing as dying with honor. You can't die with honor when you've lived such a wretched life. Death is death. It'll always come, and it doesn't matter how. It never does, it never did, and it never will.

Looking up to the sky with tear-streaked eyes, the last thing Valerie saw before smoke permanently clouded the mirrors of her eyes was the silhouette of a grey wolf and a winged horse running together into the night.

Ugh, sorry about the straight unholy amount of characters introduced for the Sionite part, but basically, when I mentioned that I'm a writer, a lot of people I knew asked if they could have their names in the story (I have no idea why; none of them read this as far as I know). So, I just decided to throw them all into this chapter.

Yup, now Jenny thinks she's gone nuts. Oh joy. Hey, at least I didn't make her awful this time. And before you ask just how gullible she is, remember that she just cut herself last chapter, so she's not in a very stable state of mind.

Now that that's out of the way, I have a question to ask. I know I've mentioned that I intend to also join FimFiction, which, for those who don't know, is the My Little Pony version of FanFiction. (Yes, we're so huge that we felt we needed our own freaking website. :P) While I won't be posting an actual story for a couple of months, I plan to create my account soon. Anyway, my question is this: On FimFiction, should I change my username from IsabellaWinxSirenix, and if so, by how much? On the one hand, I know it will be easier for you guys to just remember one name instead of two, but on the other hand, this is the MLP fanfiction, so I might want to have my name a bit more... pony-ish. A poll is up on my profile for those who want to use it, and/or you can share your thoughts in the reviews.

Next week is a bit of an interlude to mark the halfway point in this story. And guess what it has. WordGirl characters! Yes, I'm finally getting WordGirl characters into this thing! And lo and behold, they're going to be... WordGirl and Tobey. Look forward to that on Wednesday!

Love to all,

Bella