Deep within the Shadow Chamber; the prototype Avatar floated suspended in plasma; locked rigidly still and inert within the clear tank. Tubes jutted from out of the medical ports on the back of the stark white suit, spreading outwards to interconnect the lifeless body to the control terminal at the side. It was a different creature than the alpha version XCOM encountered in the field; but it's meaning was no less different. A herald. A new beginning and fresh start.

For Kingsley – a continuation.

Tygan glanced over his datapad tucked into the crook of his arm, monitoring the progress of the fluid restoration. Once the body had been sufficiently hydrated, he moved to transfuse the Blacksite vial into the awaiting port; the final component needed to give the body it's life, once control had been assumed. He twisted the vial into the port until it clicked open; the liquid slowly being drained.

"There. I've infused the effigy with the entirety of our viable Elder DNA." he voiced, catching the attention of the other senior officers in the room. Bradford stood restless besides the stiff Commander; hands pressed into the metal operating bench and gaze never once leaving his closest friend's – acknowledging Tygan's words with a grunt.

Lily flit about the room, checking several monitors and her own control pad held tightly between her hands. Anxiety fluctuated inside of her stomach like a restless swarm of butterflies having been set loose within her; gaze jumping from statistic to statistic and never seemingly entirely satisfied with the result. It hadn't helped that Tygan turned and added quietly;

"Are you certain this is what you want, Commander? The process is irreversible. If we continue through with this.." He wasn't one to trail off or show hesitance, but for the gravity of the situation – the magnitude of the choice, he spared a moment longer. "… It will be permanent. There is no second chance, or reversal."

"I understand the risks, Doctor." Kingsley assured softly. The moment they had received the translated detailing of the process, she rallied her senior officers to conduct the operation. Bradford had been the worst to convince, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one and trying to shake her off of her war path when she was so determined now… would only end up in heart ache.

It wasn't like he was blind to the benefits either. He could see that she wasn't well. Her current body was failing her. The war was reaching its zenith into the conflict and it needed – no, demanded – that Kingsley worked at her best. She couldn't do that addled with the additional stress and maladies that natural, old age and bad lifestyle threw at her.

But the concept of it.. what they were doing – it shook Bradford to his core. It wasn't like they were merely replacing an organ or a body part with a prosthetic. It was an entirely new body that offered a whole slew of questions that didn't seem to have a 'right' or 'wrong' answer. This was everything that he protested against when Doctor Vahlen came forward with her eccentric and morally questionable ideas.

Even if he knew Kingsley hadn't ever directly been opposed to them. Her methods, maybe. She was the least likely to be sympathetic to the aliens that had killed millions of humans - but there was something rotten about the genetic experimentation Vahlen proposed.

" – Final connection is set. Power levels … adequate. One more look at the buffer." Bradford's thoughts were interrupted by the nervous rambling of Lily. He lifted his gaze, offering her a firm look that bordered on stern warmth.

"Shen, I've watched you go over this thing fifty times, now. Take a breath." he told. Lily froze mid-step; shoulders slumping as she knew that he was right. She spared a moment to catch herself, organize her thoughts and smooth a hand through her hair.

"Then.. everything is ready when you are, Commander." Lily said, turning to face Kingsley. The woman had a mask like a diamond; hard and cut perfected to hide the flaws of her own gnawing anxiety. Dread had long since made its self welcome in her stomach and a companionable fear rested over her head. The palpable weight of the unknown sat just a few inches into the fluid tank and she could do nothing but stare up at the stasis suit mask looming above her.

She knew she had to give her final consent before they could begin, but the anticipation held her back. Kingsley, for all her preaching, was but a human at the end of the day. She did not know what would happen once it began, nor what the ramifications of living the rest of her life in the Avatar's body would entail. Would she be granted the same longevity that the Elders sought to have – doomed to outlive her friends? Would she be accepting a fate worse than the quiet, passing death of natural life she was looking forth to?

Bradford easily recognized when his oldest friend was facing a paralyzing, frozen terror. It squeezed at his heart to see; but he would stand by Kingsley's choice, not tear it down at her lowest. His hand reached for her own. She wouldn't be able to feel it through the mittens of the suit; but he gripped just tight enough she felt the pressure – and it was enough to snap her back into reality.

Wetting her lips uncertainly and exhaling a final breath, Kingsley slowly nodded. "I'm ready, Shen. Tygan. Begin with the operation."

With her hands trembling, Lily swiped the screen of her datapad to bring up the controls, pressing a button in the centre. The stasis suit's mask descended from the crane and neatly clicked into place. A sense of claustrophobia overtook Kingsley as all sound seemed to be muffled except for her increasingly shortening breaths. The mask was tight; enough that every exhale fogged the red visor in front of her.

She tried to focus on the pressure in her hand as Bradford had never once let go. It eased her irrational panic somewhat; gaze watching her vitals scroll by. She had increased heart rate, but not to any dangerous, emergency levels. A spike that evened somewhat – and once it did, Tygan stepped towards his terminal to begin the transfer.

Kingsley felt her body stiffen – then jerk spasmodically; breath hitched in heightened pain as something deep inside of her writhed to get out. Her psionics, always so low, humming and present – steadily feasting upon her – shrieked awake at the introduction of the Avatar's markup to her subconscious mind. It felt as though she was an outsider to her own body; viewing herself than experiencing it. She vaguely felt the muscles of her throat contract as a scream ripped through it – and the movements of Tygan, Lily and Bradford were drowned out.

" – Tygan, you've got to stop the process, she's having a seizure – !"

"If we stop now, Bradford, she will die! Trust in her, she will have the strength to make it through this!"

Flashing in front of her consciousness was a figure she did not know or understand, yet at the same time knew with intimate familiarity. Wreathed in purples and red cloth; with four, gangly arms protruding from it's twisted, gnarled body. It reached out to her, extending a hand towards her in a forthcoming gesture.

Kingsley couldn't move her body – it was shaking and thrashing on it's own, trying to reject the process in the only way it knew it could – but in this strange disconnect of herself; she had never felt so.. different. Free of pain, of anguish, of troubling thoughts. She did not know what she extended but she reached for that hand proffered for her. It.. felt correct. Unionizing, for once, her distaff psionics with her being of self. The gifts implanted into her by the Elders now finally within her grasp; accepted wholly.

When she turned to gaze outside of the figure; her point of view had shifted. Red no longer covered her vision; but now translucent blue. Her fingers twitched. There was not much movement to be had in the suspension fluid, but it was enough to gain the attention of that four-armed creature. It drifted over towards her, one of its hands glowing faintly with the raw power she knew was hers.

" – Synthesis nearing completion. Now, Lily!"

"I – I can't! The seizure is lasting way too long, she, her brain will just reject – "

"Find some way to stop this and save her, doc!"

With great effort; Kingsley managed to lift the Avatar's hand – her hand – to press against the glass, reaching physically for the Ethereal that only she could see. That was enough to prompt it to vanish slowly; the psionic power it built up slipping through the window of the tank and traveling up her arms. She observed with morbid, unwavering interest the way it coalesced in her hands and caused the tank to begin to tremble under the force of it. Stronger, it grew, further centralized in her palms, until eventually…

The glass of the tank shattered, sending shards and large chunks flying in all directions. The plasma leaked onto the floor. Without the fluid to support her; Kingsley dropped to the floor; landing on the soles of her feet, the tubes ripping from the medical ports with hissing, released pressure. Her psionics; now no longer restricted by her mortal form, unleashed and ascended into it's true state, bleeding into the room, casting an unearthly, purple-orange glow.

Lily felt the effects immediately; a compounded impact of sorrow hitting her chest and seizing her throat as she stared at the flat-lined vitals. Irrationality was quick to breed from the psionic influence that flexed over them, her hand nursing her lower half of her face in belated horror. Tears formed in her eyes, even as the logical parts of her tried desperately to get her to recognize the success right behind them. But all she could see, all she could focus on was Kingsley's apparent death.

Bradford shook, shoulders trembling in restrained fear as he shook the stasis suit in futility. His voice died in his throat as his mind played tricks on him, forced him to believe that this was his fault. He could have prevented this. He should have been harsher on Kingsley's choice. But he stood by and let her speed herself to this. The sheer amount of guilt cracked him to sob softly, leaning against the body; forehead pressed against her chest.

It seemed Tygan was the only one with the mental fortitude to power through the psionic overcast, settling his datapad onto the side and warily eyeing the mobile Avatar – Kingsley. The distinction would take some time for them all to get used to, but his sense of duty enabled him to persevere.

"C-Commander." Even with his resistance, Tygan was begrudgingly aware of his voice breaking; his emotions having risen and hastily shoved down for the sake of dignity. "How… do you feel?"

Kingsley closed her fingers to her palms to create a fist and disperse the excess energy. So much power she had all this time yet been unable to access overflowed her. Enough that her own control was.. sloppy at best, but enough that she managed to reign back the sorrowful Solace she had accidentally cast for her apotheosis. Once the aura had relaxed; Lily slowly came to her wits, furiously rubbing at her eyes. It was only Bradford who seemed hard-pressed to let the fact his friend had died before him pass.

She tested the new body; twitching each individual digit, keeping her senior officers awaiting her response with bated breath. Her head turned left – then right – before returning back to face Tygan. She lifted her hands for the blue mask; unlatching it and pulling it up from to reveal the previously unseen features of the Avatar's face – which, of course, like all things the Elders wanted for their icon, was perfect and symmetrical. Every atom hand-crafted to ensure sublimity at a level that went beyond merely human.

It was an ethereal beauty, so utterly faultless, that it created an uncanny valley that made it obvious that the Avatar was no natural human being. Lily found it difficult to hold her gaze for any length of time. Bradford plainly refused to look upon her face. Tygan masked his discomfort only barely as even he could not shake the strange panic that gripped at his chest that such an unusual sight brought.

"I feel.." Was that her voice? It even made Kingsley stall. It sounded scratchy, as if unused for twenty years. It was the quintessential point between masculinity and femininity. It was neither – both. It was hers. She was unhindered in being able to roll back her shoulders; to touch the roof of her mouth with her tongue or to let her psionics wrap around her in a warm embrace than see her other than a cold, unloving meal. Her eyes – pure purple, with lighter shades for the sclera and a pure white for the pupil, brought her gaze to focus onto Tygan.

"Alive."


As Jax-Mon and the two Alien Rulers advanced further into the psi-blighted territory of the Gateway; the land seemed to shift and change yet again the closer they approached.

The magenta, eldritch flora had bled into biomechanical structures; with the ground and soil being twisted and entangled by tubing and pipes that ran above and underground. From what they could see of the pipes that stuck out; it was lined with a series of filled elerium cores brimming and pulsing with psionic energy, directing it somewhere – likely to the Gate.

What little ground that had not been desiccated had been desecrated by the Chryssalid burrows. The no-man's land of psionic fallout seemed to house the central hub of the intricate underground network that spanned everywhere; yet converged just beneath their feet. Yet, despite the heavy, loping footfalls of the Berserker Queen, no angry, agitated alien came to greet them. Survival drove it's intelligence – and it seemed Rhea had traversed the place long enough that the Chryssalids knew to leave her well enough alone.

As Jax-Mon predicted, her regeneration had since patched the most superfluous injuries sustained by Rhea's assault – leaving her bruised, but fine. If she was to fight, she would prefer to be in better condition, though she doubted there were many threats that would dare try to take on a congregation of Archons, their ruler, the Queen of the Berserkers and a former Chosen.

She lifted herself slightly from the Queen's back to glance over her shoulder, being careful not to jostle the clinging runt beside her. A perceptible hue of pinks and purple tainted the air with how rich the psionic energy amassed around them. To her God-gifted senses, she heard the hum, the low, atmospheric buzz like the crackle of lightning before it struck. The wires and tubes stuck into the Earth leached into what life was left around it and expelling it's deadly fallout. Distant chattering of mandibles had long since migrated since the Queen stomped upon their grounds.

They were utterly alone.

The shadow of the Gateway loomed overhead, placed on an unnatural, biomechanical podium that served as it's foundation. Without even seeing the Gate itself, the sight of the Elders' signature in the shaping of the metal – an amalgamation of machine and biological influence – sickened Jax-Mon to her core. It was not long ago that she was splayed in reverence before her masters upon such markers of their making.

It paled in comparison to the sheer abstract nature of the Gateway.

Smooth, ivory white metal lined it's arching, reaching spires; twisting up to the very heavens. Laced with elerium and thrumming with so much psionic power that she could taste the static brewing on the tip of her tongue. Dark, camouflaged metal spiraled out in intricate patterns to the centre of the gate that Jax-Mon could only guess the significance of. It would have been an eyesore in the backdrop of nature, but in it's irradiated meadow of disgusting metal contraptions; it looked as though it belonged.

"This.. is the Gateway?" Heracles question uncertainly as he lowered from his heightened hover. His eyes, though covered by the elaborate helmet, glanced over the imposing gateway that easily matched their heights. He was beginning to approach it properly when a call from Jax-Mon halted him in his step.

"Don't." she commanded. " – It is already powered by the psi-energy within the land. Should you interact with that gate, you may be hit by it's concentrated energy. A blast that would certainly kill many of those not Gifted."

Rhea huffed out a conversational sound, causing the Archon King to tilt his head.

"… Yes, I'm inclined to agree, Rhea." He turned away from the Gate, drifting towards the pair. " – You inspect it first, Wraithmaiden. You wield psionics, do you not?"

The Assassin was not unwise to the hanging implication. Should anything go wrong, it would be she whom dealt with the consequences. Nevertheless, this was the treatment she expected out of the Rulers that did not fully trust her yet – merely tolerated her presence in their plans. Carefully, she climbed down Rhea's back far enough that she may safely let go, landing perfectly graceful on her feet and disturbing the plant-life underfoot.

With her katana drawn to redirect the energy should the Gate react adversely to her presence, she let the tip of it point the ground; her steps cautious – but not cowardly. She drew her senses inwards to ward against the intensity of energy that was building up; eyes tracing her gaze across every inch of it. She knew enough about the Gate to know it was active and online – but to where? For what purpose?

Jax-Mon stopped before it. This close, she could feel as though the machine breathed, the biomechanical parts shifting within the stark-white plates of it's protective covering. The elerium cores that lined it oscillated between brightly lit and dim; depositing and using power accordingly. Pushing down her own sense of unease and her internal alarm bell ringing a klaxon of warnings, she stepped towards the mass of wiring that cascaded out of the side.

She brought up her katana in parrying defence when the Gateway groaned; flashing a brilliant, blinding purple light over the surrounding area. She had the foresight to protect her eyes beforehand – though she knew her companions were not so lucky, hearing their raised shouts and collective surprise. Narrowing her eyes to slits, she glared as the energy at the epicentre of the Gate meld and blend into a pinhole-wide eye.

Daring to look further in; it spanned the infinite stretches of the Void – a negative space of primordial energy and the grounds of creatures not of this world or the next. Jax-Mon dug her foot into the floor and disengaged backwards once the psionic black hole expanded rapidly, filling the space of the Gate.

"Destroy it – before something comes out!" Heracles called, nursing his head from that flash earlier with his hand, supporting his low-powered flight with the staff into the ground.

"It's no use." she simply replied. "It has already arrived. To destroy the Gateway now would only cause the psionic black hole to destabilize – or worse. Grow out of control."

Indeed, destroying the Gate now would only cause it's localized portal into the void to continue it's expansion – and like a black hole, it would begin drawing everything around it into it's absolute centre. The only way to negate it now was to let it disperse, sending a shockwave of psionic radiation in the process.

But for now – more pressing matters arose when the portal reached it's maximum capacity and something begin to emerge from it's inky depths.

Like the Gate surrounding it, pristine white covered every inch of the creature – impossibly spherical and capable of moving independently when it's plates shifted like a released exhale; granting them a peek of flesh within and circuitry that defied words and knowledge. In the centre rested an orange, digital eye that glanced it's surroundings before diluting when it's gaze fell upon Jax-Mon.

Had she been a second too late, she would not have witnessed the negative space of the Void, but instead an eternal, absolute and final slumber. From her heels she sprung upwards, twisting her body in muscle-defying ways to avoid the blast of the Gatekeeper's apocalyptic gaze as it incinerated the space where she once occupied. There was no way she could carry the momentum in a counter-attack, and with her newfound mortality – Jax-Mon focused on retreating, disengaging backwards the moment she was able to gain her footing.

Combat was no longer a serene dance between man; metal and opponent – but now a dangerous waltz of consequences. Her body, even still with her regeneration, smarted from the Queen's assault. Yet, Jax-Mon did not hold it against her – the thought barely even crossed the surface of her mind when presented with the Gate's relentless guardian.

It's appearance… only assured the Assassin that her decision to clear out the place for XCOM was a wise one after all. It was a marvel and proper acknowledgement should be made to their R&D for managing to advance to magnetic weaponry, but it paled in comparison when faced with such otherworldly threats. Even Heracles and the Archon's plasma staves did little more than scuff the surface of the Gatekeeper's shell – and Rhea's fists were better suited for flesh and bone than ethereal metal.

She noted that the Gatekeeper seemed.. hesitant to push it's offence and she realized begrudgingly it was only defending the territory of the Gateway. She had little idea how the thralls under the Elders controlled took to the news of a Chosen going rogue – and creatures such as the one before her were far too unwieldy for the Elders to hope to control. It recognized her as a Chosen. It also recognized her as a threat. For the first time in it's existence, it perhaps did not know how to proceed.

Jax-Mon solved the dilemma for it as she took this window of opportunity and pressed the attack, slicing forward with a thrust in hopes of piercing it's eye. Despite it's behemoth size, Gatekeepers were unnaturally agile; and it drifted and navigated out of reach.

"Heracles!" the Assassin called – needlessly; as the Archon King took his cue when he saw the Void-born creature rise. The 'feathers' of his wings powered, propelling him in hot pursuit.

He knew he couldn't really harm it – but he and his flock could harass it out of the sky and force it back down. With far better control and skilful manoeuvrability, the King swerved around the Gatekeeper, easily staying out of it's line of sight, forcing it's tracking to contend with him and the other Archons. The moment it tried to focus on one of his guards and power up an attack, Heracles closed the distance and swiped it with his staff.

The force of his blows were always enough to jostle it's course, and to ensure it wasn't going to simply drop out of the sky like a dead weight, it rammed past two of the Archons that were advancing on it, sending them off-kilter. Unlike the Gatekeeper, they corrected themselves and adjusted within seconds.

Heracles and his guardsmen managed to drive it just low enough for Rhea – with a running start – to leap into the air and grapple the spherical shell with her full weight, fingers clawing at the seams of the plate to try and force them apart as she scrabbled for purchase. Whilst she didn't manage to stay on for long, she did ground it to make a better attempt of an attack – namely, pounding the full force of her fists down onto the top of the Gatekeeper and slamming it into the ground.

Jax-Mon returned into the fray, landing the first real damaging swing as her katana pierced all without distinction. It let loose an incomprehensible noise that sounded like inhuman screaming in her mind – all of their minds, judging by the winces of her companions – when her blade sliced across it's plate and revealed part of it's amorphous shape.

Now exposed; the Gatekeeper buffeted her back as the rest of the plates pushed open. Four, sickly looking tentacles snaked out of the openings, it's flesh glowing bright purple as it shaped something unseen by their eyes.

Heracles tried to take this opportunity to angle his staff from the sky and divebomb straight downwards and impale the centre of the Gatekeeper – but found that his staff glanced right off the moment he grew too close. Of course; the creature was wise enough to erect a psionic barrier so it was not truly as vulnerable as it looked.

It launched it's globe of psionic energy forward – Rhea grunting and placing a hand on the ground to steady her as it phased right through her entirety as it hit the ground. At first she chuffed, assuming it had missed – when the groans and psionic screeching of risen Chryssalids told a different story.

"If we deal with the Gatekeeper, it's psionic creations cannot sustain itself without it's power." Jax-Mon swiftly explained as she decapitated the head of a charging Chryssalid. Her eyes scanned everywhere and anywhere, trying to come up with such a solution as Heracles voiced his chagrin.

"Easier said than done. It appears your weapon is only capable of piercing through it's barrier and metal." he swooped down, viciously tearing apart several psionic phantoms and burning off the face another as he righted his jet. "You need to close the distance!"

Jax-Mon huffed, attempting such a thing. Sprinting forth with her weapon stretched, the Gatekeeper reared and sliced the air with it's tendrils, serving as an effective buffer. Her armour weathered the blow – but the psionics it wielded pierced through her and forced her back – signature reeling with the injury. She needed to move faster than it was capable of deflecting and the earth-shattering roar of Rhea beside them all gave her an effective idea.

"Queen Rhea, I need you to throw me." the Assassin requested. The Queen spared her a black look; one of her meaty fists enclosing around the throat of a risen psi-zombie and crushing it back into psi-energy without so much as a thought. Jax-Mon quickly added; " – At the Gatekeeper. I need to breach it's defense."

Snorting loud enough to signal her affirmation; Rhea dropped her shoulder as a frontal guard, charging across the field and knocking everything out of her path. Jax-Mon assisted, meeting her half-way and completely putting faith and trust into the Queen when her large hand enclosed around her waist.

To keep the Gatekeeper occupied and it's attention off from the duo, Heracles and his flock resumed their harassment, alternating between attempting to stab at the tentacles or simply using their metal bodies to crash into it. Their efforts only served to annoy the creature of the void and at least one of the Archons suffered egregious wounds – but they bought enough time.

"Pull back!" Heracles ordered, sending himself and his guards to the skies. As the Gatekeeper contemplated following them; it's senses picked up something closing in on it – and fast.

Rhea, with the time the Archons had bought, put all of her strength into launching Jax-Mon towards it. With her sword outstretched like an extension of her arm, the Assassin cut through it's psionic barrier – cut through it's flesh – and the back of it's exterior, alien shell like a knife to butter. Her God-gifted balance allowed her to land on her feet even as she sailed several feet away from the still floating shell, lips twisting in a sneer as she glared down at the fleshy blob impaled through her katana.

The shell, now no longer piloted, simply followed it's protocols to self destruct. Rhea lifted her arms and closed them together to provide a suitable blast shield for herself and her runt. The Archons simply flew a little higher to avoid being caught in it's radius. But Jax-Mon..

No amount of divine reaction time would have allowed her to get out of there had it not been for Heracles swooping down and collecting her in his arms, lifting her far up in the air and out of harm's way. Her sneer dropped to a cringe as the explosion rocked her senses to white noise; eyes screwing shut and face buried against his chassis to weather out the worst of it. Heracles, thankfully, did not point it out.

As the smoke cleared and all that was left was the creature dead on her blade and the unusable debris of it's shell, Heracles gently moved to set her down on her feet at ground-level.

"You could have left me to die in that and then resumed with your former plans." Jax-Mon bluntly said the moment she was capable of speaking without her voice breaking. She cleared her throat; attention drawn away from him to glance disgusted at her unclean blade.

"You may no longer be a Saint as you claim, Wraithmaiden; and nor do I consider you friend." he said, withdrawing his arms and folding them in front of him. His Archons flanked him, whereas one of them moved to tend the most wounded. " – But I do recognize you as a capable and worthy warrior. If you are to fall in battle, I'd rather not witness it be to something so tactless as an explosion. You've earned, least of all, a warrior's death."

"I see." Her eyes close briefly, before they re-open with her usual grit. "Am I to believe you wish to best me yourself, then?"

A slight smile curved his lips. " – Perhaps. In any case, I am inclined to believe you when you said that we are simply incapable of powering this Gateway ourselves. It looks as though it does not have any.. power left."

Indeed, casting her gaze towards it, the Gateway now stood deactivated and inert. Not broken, she almost said, but it may have been better to have the Rulers believe that for now. It was ripe for anyone's taking, and she planned that to be XCOM's once they dealt with the looming, impending doom of her wayward brother.

Jax-Mon considered intercepting him before he had a chance to strike at them, but…

Rhea grunted something, scuffing the ground with her paw and intently looking towards Heracles. They exchanged some silent words, before the Archon King slowly nodded and inclined his head to the Assassin.

"Queen Rhea wonders what is your plan going forward, Wraithmaiden, and if that goal still aligns with our own."

… but Jax-Mon believed that XCOM were more than capable of fending Dhag-Mai off. Shaking herself out of her deep thoughts, the Assassin removed the creature from her katana and sheathed it.

"I make for the city centre. There is a man there that is surrounded by all fronts – if I am able to contact him before ADVENT close in on him, I'll gain the information we need to drive the final nail in the Elders' coffin, or at least align it for the hammer of the Resistance to slam down upon it." she said.

"We are on the precipice of something new, monarchs. If you wish to embrace it, then you will come with me. Dismiss this as an alliance all you want, but.." She looks at them meaningfully. She knew one fight wouldn't win them to her side or whatever they believed she thought, but she was not blind to how well they fought together. In a matter of survival – they had a better chance staying as they were.

Rhea and Heracles seemed to consider this logic as well. The former only wanted what was best for her child, and Jax-Mon proven twice over to be a reliable leader and a relentless guardian. As for the latter, he'd already been impressed by her diplomacy and her skill. Her words could not have been any more truthful:

It was certainly the dawn of something new.