From every door

They came.

These children born of war

They came.

Speaking a secret word that they

Waited a hundred years to say

Let all our children learn

The tide of right will turn.

Giants fall, tigers burn,

Someday with the dawn,

They're gone.

– Morning of the Dragon, Miss Saigon


"SUSAN LEI! You didn't run far – why did you run at all? Have I got to slap you again? Before you'll go back to your husband, the world where you're everyone's hero?"

In the filth-dripping alley behind the Redmond dive bar she'd fled to, Susan Lei looked back at her pursuer with a brave, shaking smile.

"I'm the hero? You suffered more than I ever did. You fought through it. You never killed, you never gave in to hate. You made it to Harry at the end…I fragging gave up, a whole year, in a world without him. You should go to the world where Harry lives…like it should be. He'll love you, he'll wait as long as you need. He'll stay with you, he'll make you happy... Guanyin's mercy, don't you deserve better? Wherever I end up, I'll survive – always hanging on, whoever else has to die. It's

"…maybe Harry would accept that…accept me, if you could ask him. That idiot always had to save the girl, be the hero…but would he be happy, you idiot? You had four years! Longing for you, finding you, fighting through the world at your side…sharing each day and night. Is that supposed to mean nothing, now? Is it you're to give up? If my best friend, the only one, is alive somewhere far away…I want to know he's happy. I want you to be happy, idiot! Are you going to tell me you haven't suffered enough? I know already you're strong, you can take any pain, but that isn't love! Suffering doesn't make us strong, it doesn't make anything. We can only claw back pieces of all they took from us, that night, through nights and years. You're throwing all your blessings away; am I supposed to be chill with that? I know you're not."

"…no, but…we tried to just live together, before, without shadowruns. It didn't work, it never worked, and it wasn't just Harry. Too much time to think…what we did, what was it for, what the frag now? We both had to go to Redding, go to the war, and now its really over. I don't know what I'll do, how I'll frag it up…I can't live without killing. No, I can't live without being the Fighter who never fails, never loses…never was. I know you can't fight without falling, getting back up…but that was the end of my fight, my story, screaming for mercy at a dragon's feet, and it feels like drek. Drek…I'm an idiot, again. Wanted to be a hero, and I just look like a fool."

"Yeah, but you were the hero. I was the one who screamed and crawled, but you taught me to fight again. We got back a bit of what I lost, a piece of who we are. Thank you…but I promised Beth I'd stay with her. She needs me, I need her my precious friend. Hestaby's only here for you. You'll have to be strong and happy for us both, but thank you…for thinking of me."

"Always. You're alive. I taught you how to punch again, but you were always strong…and you're going to be happy. Promise me."

"…you did everything for me you could. I'll never find another Harry, I'll never have kids, and the world will never know my name – but I won't give up. For Beth, for all the women in Redmond like us and the dumb kids, I'll do all I can. There'll be peace. There will be joy, I promise..."

"…and don't say you can't change the world." With her full strength, Susan held Fighter against her heart, "Not with your friends – you'll keep them, you'll find more, and…don't give up, understand."

"…okay. What men did to me, to Harry…doesn't mean I can't be with someone. Or I have to love women instead of men, or I can't, because I know some wonderful women…I'll think, I'll hope, I'll be ready one day. It doesn't get better just with waiting, it doesn't get better just with working, but it can get better. When…my heart's will was torn out in blood, I knew the wound wouldn't go away. My life will never be as it could've been…but it can be my life, still. The life I choose, with all our strength."

Tension was pouring away into grievous decision; words were pouring out that could never be spoken again. Susan looked once more on her other self, broken and undefeatable. They embraced each other once more, with all the strength and hope in their hearts.

"YOU SHALL NOT GO UNREWARDED, NOR WITHOUT PRIDE AND PURPOSE." The Astral dragon that filled the alley spoke to Fighter; a massive claw gently touched her head, "RETAKE YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE, CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE. KNOW YOUR PLACE AND YOUR PATH, YOUR THRONE AND YOUR NAME."

Susan would never see what passed behind Fighter's eyes or know just why she smiled as she did. Hestaby's touch couldn't wipe out all that Fighter had suffered; no magic could change the past with a snap and no magic should. Yet, nothing held Fighter back from the proudest, bravest smile Susan had ever seen on her own face. As Fighter turned away to her friends and her victory; as Susan's mind flew back through incomprehensible darkness to Harry, and a future she could no longer imagine.

-0-

With central command destroyed, Peace Force officers drew each regiment and brigade into some measure of order. An army no more, yet moved by one imperative – bitterly as they'd advanced, the elves of Tir Tairngire pulled back. Only the constraints of backing so many panzers and self-propelled guns over Shasta Dam slowed the flight from dragonfire. Separated from their transports in the chaos, elves trudged back to their bases on the Eureka line, afoot. A few weeping, groaning with rage. More following their feet in silence. Elves marked by flames thought grimly of their future. Others, without visible wounds, leant one on another.

A female soldier, burn-scarred and hollow-eyed, gave voice to a Sperethiel lament for their dead and their shame. More elves took up the song, harrowing as beautiful, while they marched together. Home to the broken promise of conquest and glory. To a land robbed of its destiny, that they knew would never be the same.

Redding lay like the swimmer, going down for the third time, pulled suddenly up to gasp and writhe on the bank – the city took a while to breathe. A while to see and understand that they had been saved – orks, dwarves, trolls, humans and elves, women, children and men. Not even by the ruin and bitter bloodshed of a years-long '37, or sacrificing their children's future to Japanacorps. A magic dragon had appeared from the Sixth World's fearful and wonderous mystery. Her voice from the heavens had thundered peace.

From the north end, lost and weary Defenders of Shasta Dam watched artillery and panzers roll back like a scroll. Before the last Tir elf had crossed, the hardiest souls had crept back to their place of suffering, supported by a few more poorly armed civilians. Swifter than breath, they comm-called back to Paladin, their families, everyone throughout Redding. Everything was true.

Beyond the ruins of the old City Hall, nothing had touched the city but fear; now there was nothing to fear. The celebratory chaos did very slightly more damage to most of Redding than the victory, despite Paladin's best efforts. Parted families ran after each other everywhere; refugees trundled dazedly back to safe homes. Defenders, with guns still on their backs, thumpingly embraced.

The town rang with questions, delirious shouts and cheers. People wandered about weeping for joy; no one knew what could sufficiently be done for such a deliverance. Some prayed out in the street, to every god or spirit the Sixth World had known. Others rolled speakers out of bars to sing and dance in the road, loading every uniformed Defender they could lay hands on with free synathol and kisses.

Somewhere, a drunken dwarf was singing. Swiftly as they checked the anthem's lyrics on their comms, a motley crowd chimed in. Boozy and untuneful as thunderously overjoyed.

I love you, California, you're the greatest state of all,

I love you in the winter, summer, spring and in the fall!

I love you, land of flowers, land of honey, fruit and wine.

I love you, California; you have won this heart of mine.

I love your old grey Missions, love your vineyards stretching far.

I love you, California, with your Golden Gate ajar!

I love your purple sunsets, love your skies of azure blue.

I love you, California; I just can't help loving you.

I love you, Catalina, you are very dear to me,

I love you, dear Lake Shasta, and I love YO-SEMIT-EE!

I love you, land of sunshine, half your beauties are untold!

I loved you in my childhood, and I'll love you when I'm old.

Elsewhere, Gabriela Mendoza wept for her lost Angel, beating her head against a makeshift clinic's cold floor. The remnant of Norton's Army mourned before the empty image of their saviour; scoured the field vainly for Orion's body. Prisoners on both sides of Lake Shasta grimly awaited their homecoming. A remnant of staring, silent fighters stumbled back from the Weaverville road. The Defenders who'd fled from Shasta Dam felt little in her hearts but tired, glorious relief. Even the unwounded Defenders couldn't simply down arms and join the party, as another vast force drew up to the south.

Kali had whipped the cumbersome mechanics of mobilisation to breaking point. The endless ranks of Komatsu APCs, only broken by Shiawase panzers and spider-tanks, had filled the Valley with dust. Surged up to Redding at punishing speed – to discover that the encroaching war was over already. The Corpsec armies of Mitsuhama, Shiawase, Renraku and Fuchi … bunked down in the field to the south of Redding, awaiting further orders. Mitsuhama's SP Team One, accompanying with orders for liquidation of three shadowrunners, likewise comm-called the director regarding drastic situational changes.

Leaving Takahashi in command, Paladin rode a Harley Scorpion out to speak with Kali. Rather stunningly pulling off her sharply-pressed MCT dress uniform, she was seated in her tent before a laptop, a tablet and two commlinks.

"Kali-san. For coming so swiftly to our aid, Redding owes you its gratitude–"

"–and that's all. So ka."

Kali crossed her arms under her breasts and sighed. Paladin, though still in his sweat-filled armour, hadn't smiled so purely in years.

"The townsfolk require no further outside assistance, at present. May we know your own intentions?"

"For the next few days? The goons will sit on their thumbs until we're called right back to 'Frisco." Kali glanced at the tent wall sourly, purple eyelids low. "What a fragging waste of nyuyen. Apart from all our trouble to stockpile smallarms and explosives, for the years that North Calfree resistance and the Tir were meant to spend killing each other. At least Saito will be crying into his sake, with a dragon sat in the way of his Tir-exterminating destiny."

"Some bankrupt arms dealers as well?"

"You wish. A lot of cheap guns for Aztechnology's opposition in South America. Some things never change…except everything's going to change." Paladin couldn't imagine that Ilsa had seen Kali hungrier, four years ago, as she now leant over her desk, dark eyes alert. "A new great dragon is going to set the world on its ear. What's her position on megacorps? Metahuman rights? Logging, harvesting magic from those caves? What does she want? It's going to change the world, whatever it is. If you think she saved the day because Susan pulled a thorn from her paw, or whatnot, I've got a bridge to sell you back in 'Frisco."

"Why not go and ask what she wants?" Paladin turned his eyes to the north, "I'm sure your masters would have liked the inside track, but everyone is already going to her, except us."

"Hmm? 'In the last days, all peoples will go up to the mountain of the Lord…and the whole world will worship the beast that is called the dragon?' Something like that?"

Kali's lip curled, but she was actually curious. Paladin simply smiled.

"American Protestant churches, I understand, raised a tremendous uproar about the End of Days in 2011 and 2021 – as if there wasn't already enough. The righteous had been Raptured up to Heaven, orkish demons sent in their place. The dragons were seven heads of Satan, sent to purge the Earth with fire…for Tehran, that was self-fulfilling prophecy. They see the works of evil on every side. They miss the consoling hand of a saviour who still, for now, moves in gentle humility. For the grace that has delivered us all, dear Ilsa and even this fallen knight, I am more thankful than you could know…but Hestaby the dragon is neither demon nor saviour. Through the everyday and marvellous, to an end greater and more terrible than any can imagine – all of us, with the Sixth World, will walk on down the path prepared."

"…well, dragon or demon, I'm only going to keep on rising." Kali got to her feet, "If I can discover Hestaby's intentions for Mitsuhama before the other Corps get to her. That should at least stop them pinning this wasted deployment on me. I might still find time to cut up old touches with Susan, Hotspur and Tresckow. Even with a new great dragon in town, things will be…more predictable without them."

By that time, a crowd of Reddingites were streaming over Shasta Dam. Staring over the blasted ground and green-clad bodies. Picturing the dreadful, unyielding struggles beyond fantasy or nightmare; over the south barricades, the north bank, the stones and hollows choked with dead, the ruined lakeside village. Seeking their loved ones, wounded or slain – seeking their wounded heroes, who had brought life out of death and never abandoned them.

The way around the lake was roadless and cut across with inlets; some determined hikers still set out. Anything in Redding even resembling a boat was seized on, to ferry hundreds across Lake Shasta from the thousands thronging the shore. All finally trailing up to the hills above the Shasta Caverns, upon which Hestaby the dragon basked and shone in Californian sunshine.

Where Susan Shuang Lei, Fighter, hidden by a stand of trees, laid arms across her husband's back and neck for the first time in two years. Six months, nine days, of mourning loss. Harry's battered, brave chest, remembered and beloved, sunk carefully into her breasts. Susan raised her lips to the sunlight and his triumphant, precious kiss, as a bright, hard point of gratitude broke her heart with joy.

-0-

"…just sayin'." Elorn's father muttered, for the third time. "We'd have fought those Tir fraggers to the end, dragon or no dragon. Frag, they sent a couple of young dragons against us in '37. We mightn't have won, but never surrendered."

"Yeah, dad. You're almost sorry that dragon saved our hoops, right?"

"Yeah. Almost."

Near Elorn, Sarah sprawled mountainously over the grass, gazing up at the dragon as a vision in a dream. The rescued and revived Corpsec adept, who'd had a family, a pension and a fitness netblog, stared at little meadow flowers as if he'd never seen any such thing, or anything, in the world before. Resting between his father and his rifle, Elorn resumed his vain attempts to catch Hailey's eye. Glad as he was to still be alive, he had to do something with it.

The 'Frisco decker's attention, alas, was held captive by fifty metres of gleaming bronze scale above them, warmly scented like a tremendous hearth. The great dragon, at rest, awake and touchable. Power to raze kingdoms or raise them. The great eyes that had first opened as the great ice thawed, to watch hundreds of nations and millions of lives pass into eternity. Ancient, yet overwhelmingly warm. Elorn didn't know what else he should think; a dragon's view of an elf definitely counted for more than the converse.

Yet, Hestaby's foreleg scales had been blackened by a gauss cannon discharge. That she was occasionally licking the wounds, instead of swiftly Healing, could only be deliberate. As Hailey finally turned back to Elorn, bouncing on her heels as if she'd never fought to fainting in her life, her eyes were still full of magic dragon.

"Like…wow. Major, serious wow! Some Prime Runners never met a dragon – I mean, no Runner in the world ever saw this dragon, this Run! Chip truth, wasn't it just the novahottest shadowrun ever?"

Her smile shone like daylight neon; Elorn couldn't help grinning back. After fiddling with her PDA, Hailey chucked it to him. Jaundered over to strike a pose, beside Hestaby's gently smoking jaws.

Risking his neck for this girl one last time, Elorn snapped the pics as Hailey twirled and flashed peace signs. Apart from a soft chuff of smoke, Hestaby feinted not to notice her antics. As she ignored the touching display of mortal urges presented by Susan and Harry, emerging from the bushes hand in hand.

(With all their willpower, they'd stopped at first base. Apart from the storm of questions and burdens in Susan's heart, she still wasn't okay with defenceless open air – there would be time for everything burning and lost within them, but this wasn't it)

Ilsa, fresh from a serious conversation with Hestaby, looked happier than Susan could even remember – practically clicking her heels for joy, green eyes aflame. Now, smiling at the friend who'd come back from oblivion. She tried to squeeze her shoulder; finally threw herself into Susan's arms. Pulling Harry all the way in, as the three felt the strengths that had upheld their lives above the pit. The strong hearts of adventurers, insatiable and unafraid. Hardened but fierce with compassion. Guiding lights in a sea of shadows.

"Susan. I can't tell you how glad I am you survived …but you will have to tell me exactly how."

"Hoping you could tell me, Wiz. Two years and a half…seem like a dream I'm waking up from. To the real world, where you're alive… Harry, Ilsa … and we Ran the Shadows. You never let go of me, they never beat us down, we never failed and that is the truth. I had to strip away everything else, but it's coming back, as the dream fades. My head's still a fragging mess…I don't know how, but I'm back."

"Back home." Harry whispered, leaning on Susan as his leg threatened to buckle and his heart burst with joy, "We've got a future, angel; not running from Lofwyr and the Tir forever, living! Making a home. Everything we can make together, everything shining and strong you are, safe…baby, you're going to be okay!"

"The spirit, as with the brain, has astonishing resilience," Ilsa blithely related, "A medical mage in Heidelberg told us of a pre-Awakening woman, shot in the head four times, who lived and named her assailant. Brains missing most of their mass, that simply repurposed what remained. In the words of Dr Li, magic does not do the impossible, which is, by definition, not possible. It simply captures and commands the unbounded wonders of this universe – the wonders that yet-more wonderful spirits such as yours deserve for guards and guides, that a world of struggling heroes may be finally saved."

"…I actually got that, Wiz, I swear." Ilsa believed her, though Susan had kissed Harry several times during Ilsa's brief speech.

All three of them embraced again, more words unneeded for now. Before turning to the crowd of Redding's Defenders and people, gathering at the bottom of the meadow. Frank Slocum, Kirsten Wendell, Rhoda Thomas, Sali Arslan, Eunice Evers, Rick Moran – as yet, more than Harry could name. In need of answers, and apparently twice as many eyes and mouths as they shared.

-0-

Too awed to approach Hestaby yet, the people of Redding looked to Hotspur. Harry thought of the dead he'd left before Shasta Dam, his own final collapse at Susan's side, and waited for them to shame him – yet it wasn't so. No one but the dead had held Shasta Dam to the end; no one who'd fought would forget that Hotspur's voice led them so far. Nobody knew who the terrible old man had been, rallying the Tir and even confounding Hestaby, but no one would shame Hotspur or Fighter for falling before him. Seeing their heroes standing together, bruised but unbroken in spirit, joyous cheers rose throughout the crowd.

From Hailey and Elorn's accounts, the signs of many Peace Force troops rushing over the Shasta Caverns, and the bodies in the caves themselves, it was clear what had engaged Tir's Ghosts while Redding waited for their fatal blow. Hotspur had drawn them off into the caves – the hero of the Shadows who'd led Redding against hatred, terror, and invasion. Brought them together, with fighters from all across Calfree; stood at the forefront to the end of strength, against all that seemed impossible. For their freedom and their pride – never megacorp nyuyen. It was what shadowrunners did, and Harry's heart swelled with song because he and Susan had proved it.

Four years and more, since Redding's childhood dreams and corrupting nightmares, lost in running and bleeding, striving and seeking, had reached their ultimate summit. The place he was born to belong, with his love and the friends he'd fought for.

"Did you bring the dragon?" Somebody shouted.

"No! Hestaby came herself. To bring peace, and every one of you fought to bring her!" Squeezing Susan's waist, hard as she'd fought, Hotspur raised his free hand against still louder cheers, "I've spoken with Hestaby! She means what she says about Redding and Calfree, about Tir Tairngire, and about peace. To protect the forests, plains and creatures of this beautiful country, the lives and hopes of the people, peace is what she wants!"

Looking up at the Hestaby, the Reddingites had no words, but far from entire peace of mind. The great dragon had fought and bled to protect them, with unbelievable power, but it was too easy to imagine themselves less people than ants in her eyes. All of them had heard the one about dealing with a dragon. Then there was an implosion of air and it was Tabitha – Hestaby, now – who spread human arms to them.

Revived by her descent into the Shasta Caverns, her human flesh now glowed from a full figure and striking features; even her outfit had shifted to a stylish bell-sleeved beige top and blue jeans. She looked like a Celtic folk singer, or Celtic goddess, surging with incomprehensible life – more than elvishly beautiful. Everyone present heard her mortal voice.

"The ant is a little creature. Yet it lived before dragons or metahumanity, and will live after both are dead. Strong or weak, gone tomorrow or gone some day, each one of us has a place in the great garden of this Earth. Our own duty, to tend the garden and not defile it; to share the little precious wisdom each and all possess. War's hatred obscures wisdom, severs threads unmendable threads, surely as greed. I have not come to tyrannise and seize upon this world, whatever this age of steel holds, but I will not leave it untended – nor has it been wholly left untended. From shadowed paths and corrupted sprawl cities – to this little city, overpowered but undefeated – courage, fellowship and hope against hope have been preserved for this world. By Redding's heroes, and Redding's people."

Little as Hestaby's wisdom and being might be in infinite space, they filled the assembly like a warm wave. The words man had scorned for a century were simple and vital truth, in the mouth of a dragon.

"I shall claim Mount Shasta, to the north, as my domain," Hestaby continued, "With all the land for forty miles around. The great forests of the mountain will climb and spread once more; the deer will run there again. There will be no need for bunkers of concrete, or wire. All may join me there who wish to serve in this great task. The forests, caves and sites of magic around Redding – I leave to your stewardship."

Forestry and harvesting the Shasta Caverns were the only producing industries left in North Calfree. Already, Redding used them with more foresight than any megacorp; now, their children would too. The cheering that followed was unrestrained. Some knelt down before Hestaby on the grass. Harry had to ward off some orks aiming to hoist him on their shoulders like a trophy.

"What about Fighter?" A woman shrieked from the back above the din; others took up the cry. "Are you okay, will you be okay? What did that monster do to you? Are you…back? With us? Whole?"

Susan felt pain, upon all she'd suffered, because she didn't deserve, or want, such pity. Still, she stepped up so the whole crowd could see her, raising her hand. Grinning, now, as Hrafna barrelled through the ruck; the ork girl thumped bear-like into Susan's, tears in eyes.

"Susan, you're alive…alive to see her! Isn't she glorious, isn't she beautiful? She saved us all. Her wisdom will save this world! I need to tell Will about this, I need to tell everybody! Everyone has to know that Hestaby gives life and strength and saved me!"

Behind Susan, Ilsa surreptitiously checked Hrafna's aura. If she was under any mental control, Hestaby was better at it than Shavarus or Lofwyr. At least Hrafna realised how she sounded; tusks went very well with a goofy smile.

"Why would she need to brainwash me when she's so good and wonderful? Her power, her place, they're more than a dragon…the guardian of this world, and its soul. I can feel her power healing me, all the fear and despair gone with the dawn…Susan, thank you for everything."

"You saved yourself." Susan's voice was firm, "You survived, lived through all the drek, helped us with all your strength, before any magic dragon showed up."

"…living is more than surviving. I could live and work, carrying what they did on me." Hrafna bowed her scarred head, then raised it, "Now, I can live with her strength, her joy, and the scars are nothing." Susan embraced her friend once more, full of happiness for her.

"…I, like, get what you mean." Hailey confessed, when she'd finished hugging Hrafna as well, "She's like, the centre of so much power, natural, magical, even spiritual. It, like, totally draws you in…but maybe Awoken peeps feel it more? Chrome-domes like yours truly get less of a hit?"

Susan could certainly feel it. How shockingly easy, to worship the giant lizard all their future peace would depend on. Whose kindness had bought peace for shadowrunners – as many years with Harry as she could imagine. Give up her own blood-stained dreams and desires, for the infinitely more noble and worthy goals of a greater being. Until there was no distinction left between Susan Shuang Lei's dreams and Hestaby's – what dream could be better than selflessly saving the world from war and corruption, or more mightily empowered?

Still, something held her back. Small, bloody and unfulfilled as her own desires were, they were hers. She was still herself. Not ready to give up her strength and her simple heart, until she had fought for her own dreams a while longer. She saw that Ilsa, fiercely as she coveted Hestaby's power, could never have surrender her will to gain it. She sensed Hestaby would never demand worship of them – only that they did what she asked.

Anyway, the Buddha's sermons on Earth had brought thousands of listeners to immediate enlightenment. The goddess Guanyin, as Princess Miaoshan, mercifully descending to Naraka in place of her own executioner, had made hell bloom into paradise by her divine music. Though Hestaby was physically present in a dark world that cried for saviours, Susan hadn't become a hero by stopping at what was before her. Ten times more for her Harry, least religious and most heroic of them all.

She was chill that a number of other Reddingites, shamans and layfolk, visible shared Hrafna's new passion. A number of Tir elves, she now saw, uniformed but unarmed, had deserted the northward march to a bitter homecoming. They knelt in submission before the ultimate incarnation of magic and ancient wisdom – while Harry and Sarah explained strenuously to Reddingites who'd lost loved ones in the battle, Hestaby's peace cut both ways.

Will Casper had somehow marched back to Redding alive, untouchable and unmoved as he'd marched on from every past slaughter. Now, he was weeping at the feet of the most glorious beast in nature, like a strange, ugly child. Sobbing something about his brother, he'd been wrong, he would never, never kill again. Hrafna moved to his side with a caring hand. Next to them…yes, smiling with the solemn, ecstatic joy he'd found in the depths of hell, Desorn had survived as well.

Something about that smile made Susan frown; stuck hard in her craw. How many had died without reason, so a pitiless killer could smile like that? In her final fight, Lofwyr had struck her down with one blow. There'd been nothing she could do, as Harry and her other self faced the Golden Wyrm. All her struggles had only paved the way for Hestaby's triumph, and it was frustrating – that she didn't know when she'd fight again, if not now.

"Hoi, omae." She squatted beside the ex-Ghost, "You owe me a rematch. I'll have to train, again, harder; but I will beat you."

"I am defeated. Strike me, and I will not resist. For the mercy Lady Hestaby has shown such a monster as I was, I have sworn to never shed blood again."

"You?" Susan whispered, "You can just wash away your sins? Hrafna was a victim, even Casper had some drek with his family, but you walked away from your peaceful elves-only paradise, straight down to hell. I killed for nyuyen, I'd do most of it again, but you killed and corrupted with all your strength, for bulldrek. Nothing you could suffer in this lifetime is going to get that karma off you; no god or dragon can change the past. What was done to us, what we did – we have to live with it."

In four years, Susan had never looked so closely into such harrowed eyes as Desorn raised. The black-burdened soul, dragged into agonising light, the will that Tir's lies had stolen – no, it had been given away. Barely, she held his gaze.

"I know. I know what I have done. My comrades, who trusted me, the thousands of innocents slaughtered for false dreams and my pride…I could hate and destroy myself far more easily than you, but it would avail them nothing. Yet, I know…I am not the elf that I was. I see my folly and loathe it, though I must live with it. Tir Tairngire told me to fill the world with war, for the sake of her peace; Lady Hestaby only asks that I tend a garden. I will never be guiltless, but I know I will do good, not harm, because Lady Hestaby's promise has changed me. If only Rowan, Morgan, Aeirion had lived…I took the lives of many monsters, Fighter, as you did, and I thought it just. Yet perhaps, all of them might have been changed…that is far from the least of our burdens."

Because she knew it was truth, but not the whole truth – because she'd been born in a slum to fight for life and the innocence that had been torn away, while Desorn had only know Tir's peace – Susan would have struck the elf in spite of all. Except Hestaby had raised a lightly warding hand before her chest. Speaking intimately in her ear.

"My Fighter. You know it would neither be wise nor right to strike such a poor soul, yet you could not let go. Because you were once defeated, you must be undefeated. That is true defeat."

"…you'd know about true defeat if Lofwyr had had his way. You know – you're a fighter, like me. It should be for the world, all the weak, beaten people who just deserve better…but we fight for us, in the end."

"So bold. I am like you, Susan Shuang Lei, but I am more than you. You will never truly save the world, never free yourself from shadows, unless you let go. I owe you more than thanks, for all you have done for me and this age – I owe you this."

Concerned as Ilsa and Harry looked for her, Susan nodded. Hestaby touched her forehead.

Her father had taught her to let go of attachment and weakness. Redmond had taught her in agony, hatred and shame; if she lost, she was done. Orion had taught her to let go of lies and face the ugly truth. At Harry's side, she'd learnt her life was worth living – for the love, the righteous, saving strength her life was nothing without. At Hestaby's touch, she knew at last what her father had meant by letting go of self. The fighter who had saved and killed because righteousness was more than life saw the infinite, terrible truth that things could have been different.

She needn't have killed so many loved, helpless souls. Needn't ever have called them trogs. Could have never killed at all, and lived a worthwhile life, amid a universe that could only be unfolding into infinity as it should be. Her soul was full of wounds no medkit could heal, and regrets – yet she was full of peace. No purer than Desorn, but there was no despair. Unclouded by self-consciousness, with existence laid out plainly as the Yellow Mountains or Lake Tahoe's forests, she knew good and loved it. She knew evil and scorned it. She'd always known; it was such a relief. The moment that might have consumed a weaker spirit was already gone, but it had shown the way she would seek. Herself, for her own love and compassion. To the end of all pain, rage and guilt evil had left in her, shadows only darkened by the flash of light – but shadows she'd be free from, one day. Harry's smile was very bright and she'd never clung to him with purer joy.

Desorn, silently awaiting Hestaby's notice, shut his eyes as she laid a hand on his head. His goddess was the only guiding light left in his world. The crowd, quiet as a church, pressed forward as Hestaby strode among them. Speaking wisdom and fiery hope with the intimate manner that human form afforded. Leaning on Susan again, Harry was first in her path.

"Lady Hestaby – thank you for bringing Susan back, thank you for saving all these people. Saving me, you both saved me…when all I could do was wave a sword around."

"You shall do more than that, Sir Hotspur. We will have time to talk much more together, about the people of this age, and all you will do for the saving of them. Although, truthfully–" Through Harry's body, Susan felt the immensely stirring force as Hestaby lightly brushed his chest "–it would not have displeased me to be saved by such a fine man."

Any other woman who'd looked at Harry that way, in front of Susan, would have swiftly regretted it – but if Hestaby wanted more than looking, Susan abruptly realised, there would be little she could do. After a remarkably dense millisecond, Hestaby smiled reassurance; she wasn't such a greedy dragon.

"…if there's one thing I can ask for, that I must ask…" With a supreme effort and a squeeze of Susan's hand, Harry came to his senses, "Can you bring Norton back? If he isn't dead, if it can be done – he deserved better."

"Ah…truly, he does. Something better than growing old, dying broken-hearted, a king dethroned without his golden dreams. Yet I see the day, perhaps at the close of this age, when California will have need again of the Emperor Norton. Without a spirit's aid, but with the legend of his deeds and new purpose…your friend and his dreams will live again, one day, Sir Hotspur."

Even if Norton himself, once and future king, might've welcomed such a destiny – Harry's heart sickened for that tireless old voice which would never cheer it again. Yet he accepted Hestaby's judgement; there was certainly no way he could change it. She spoke a better will than Lofwyr, much more plainly, but there were no tame dragons in existence.

Hestaby had already spoken to Harry a great deal; not of his future, but the future of Redding. Moving through the crowd to where Sarah stood, awkward and hulking, the dragon spoke with her gently of her past. Her sufferings and mistakes, her self-doubt and loathing…she said that she was beautiful and strong, and Sarah discovered that she could believe it. Tears poured down her rough face.

"Come with me to Mount Shasta, sweet child. There will be safety, love and rest. Work for your strength."

"I…I'm sorry, Lady Hestaby. I think, if I am strong, then people, my people…need my help more than a dragon does. Everyone left from Colma, left behind in Oakland…I want to fight for them myself. Everyone believed in me, so I think I need to believe in myself. I feel I can begin again, in spite of the past, like my shifu did and Redding will. After everything…I can live again."

"You…will live, child, and you will fight." Susan thought a shadow crossed Hestaby's face, before her great smile shone out again, "Forgive my weakness, in tempting you from your path."

Hestaby shared her words of wisdom and purpose with people of every description; none failed to remember such words, such a day, for their whole lives. She Healed the few visibly wounded that had been brought over the lake, but there was true rest for all wounds and despair of the past. Fresh strength and new beginning.

Kali made her way to that field, as well as other corporate emissaries. Over the next few days, representatives of the other great dragons appeared – including Nadja Daviar herself, and a Saeder Krupp man – to quietly pay respect, whatever their true intentions might be. Ex-Tir news anchor Genevieve Golightly put in an appearance, having announced unedited casualty figures on live Trideo and fled the country before she could be sacked or arrested. She was thrilled to meet Hotspur, a little annoyed to learn that reports of Susan's death had been exaggerated, but eager above all to begin her hopefully historic interview with the question of the moment. Had Hestaby and Dunkelzahn ever been an item? Their positions on peace, the environment and harmony between metatypes certainly seemed complimentary.

"…alas, no. While I admire Lord Dunkelzahn and all his aspirations, with all my heart, such a union would not only be politically impossible. To so great a dragon as he, I fear I am too proud to submit my whole self…"

-0-

Long before then, Susan had moved aside with the rest of the girls, for the goodbyes that were already filling and tearing her throat. She threw arms round Sarah's midriff again, again, once more.

"You can't go now. One more spar – no, we'll have time to just go for a drink! Talk all night, like in Colma, but better, now….just eat street food and walk, just like normal friends. We didn't have enough time…never enough for a girl like you."

"Time enough to save me, shifu. It took time, tears and faith, for both of us. It ain't over…even a dragon can't magic it out with a few words and lights. It was my fault, no, what they did…you did all you could, but there's a mountain I've got to climb, myself…before I can stand in the same place as you."

"Stand higher – and swear we'll always be friends? You need chummers, and so do I." Sarah answered with a final embrace, that Hailey pressed herself into, sobbing.

"…best chummers, like, ever. Forever"

Ilsa bade Sarah and Hailey Auf Weidersen. With a warning to not be quite so soppy in future.

"Hestaby's protection, I suspect, will extend no further than any power of this world. While we remain in her territory, going about her business; not if we make further trouble for ourselves. We have one chance to leave the Shadows in safety. A choice, before you plunge back into darkness."

"Well, my choice is, save my chummer." Hailey pretty little lip creased with feeling, beneath eyes of burning chrome, "I'm bringing Anya back. Whether it takes a Run on Renraku San Francisco, the Seattle Arcology, Chiba head office, I'm getting time on an Ultra-Violet host, and whatever else it takes. Kali will lose her rag with me, S.K. and the Japanacorps are never going to stop chasing us…but Anya Kotto will laugh with her whole electric body again, and we'll Run the Shadows together. Like, it's the least I can do for…everything?"

"Chill to start looking in San Francisco?" Sarah rumbled, "You'll need a meat shield."

The troll girl's voice grew as she spoke and stood, in quiet strength, as shoulders deliberately rose from the hunch that had weighed them down for years. Susan knew she'd be okay, just like Hailey, and Anya, someday soon – it was world-filling, glorious relief. There was pain – Anya would only ever find her father's headstone – but it was better that she would live, better that Susan was living than dead, however she mourned her Shifu.

Once Hailey had departed, hanging merrily from Sarah's strong arm, Susan turned to Ilsa.

"…are you alright with that drek about Harry saving the day? He fragging deserves it, they deserve their hero, but you worked and guided us for months. You and Hailey held the Tir off Shasta Dam, to the end. You and Sarah brought me to Hestaby in the caves…you had faith like fire, and it saved us. I'd have died a hundred times without the amazing things you do."

"You did it all, Susan. Cheering crowds were never my desire; I care that I know what I did, you are alive, and that we are all victorious. That I know what I will do with my future life and my powers, at last."

Ilsa had already told Hestaby about Feuerschwinge. The red dragon who'd woken in 2012 and rained fire down on Germany for four months, before the Bundeswehr had downed her. Hestaby had stood silent, for moments that had passed like months of terror for Ilsa.

"…that was her. My sister. My fellow shepherd of ages; workers together in the world-garden for harmony, beauty and life. When she woke to this world of concrete and consumption, I know what loss she felt. The rage in her fearless healer's heart…had fate fallen otherwise, I would have done the same. No body was found; I would have felt her passing. I will find her – without Lofwyr's aid. Her beloved Kaltenstein will have searched, though he is the strongest of dragons, not the wisest…we argued so foolish-fiercely, at the close of the Fourth Age, over her choice of mates. I swear we will speak together again as sisters, in this Sixth World, once more.

"Ilsa Tresckow; I owe you much and I will owe you more. On Mount Shasta we will begin the training that you shall have need of, but you must travel to Europe very soon. With Kaltenstein, but above all with the great net of comrades, agents and informants you will weave, we shall scour the continent. Bring my sister home. Then I shall impart the secrets of magic that are hidden even from common dragons."

Susan had seen such light in Ilsa's eyes, fierce with vengeance or guilt; now singing with hunger. She knew her best friend couldn't live without a project; this challenge would rebirth her as it changed the world. For the prize of such power as Ilsa had seen Hestaby wield at the dam, the Heidelberg mage had only one perfect choice.

"She has her heap of gold, Susan, deeply hidden under Mount Shasta. I will have unlimited operating funds, several of her elvish followers and spirits to begin with - then Monika Schaffer's team, my little brother's military contacts. The magical tutelage of a great dragon…perhaps the most dangerous work I have ever undertaken, but the greatest. Either Feuerschwinge has hidden herself for forty years, or another power, to no good end. I shall hold powers of life and death, infinitely greater than the burdens which once crushed me – but I feel that I am stronger. I believe I shall choose rightly and live my highest life, without a single shame or regret."

"…but you're hanging onto that thing?" Susan indicated the broken head of the staff Ilsa had wielded in their last battle. Ilsa smiled, wisely as a wizard.

"To recall failures and mistakes, that have left us and our world alive. In despair, I strove to die in your place, Susan, yet I am alive. As are you, though you offered your life for mine. I can believe the Sixth World will be better for our having fought and lived; our lives will hold all that we wish. All that gives me pause, before such a reward, is a future where I must part from you. The greatest Fighter, my dearest friend."

Susan squeezed Ilsa's callused hand with both of her own. Pressed it against her lips, as she blinked back tears. After the lifetime she'd shared with Ilsa – would share always, as Ilsa bestrode the world and Susan remained in Redding – there were no words.

"…watch your back, Wiz. You know what they say about deals with a dragon."

Ilsa firmly nodded. Noble and fulsome as Hestaby had shown herself, she was a dragon on a horde of gold, acknowledging no will in the world above her own. Gathering agents and shadowrunners to do her work across the globe, with followers – cultists, Hrafna – who would clearly die in their ranks to defend her. Not Ilsa – though the risks, rewards and trade of freedom for power would never be greater, she was taking her next job with both eyes open. Still a born shadowrunner, the chillest chica. She looked at Susan for a long time, as if trying to sear everything her friend was into her own mind – Susan didn't mind in the least. Then Ilsa finally turned away towards Hestaby the dragon; a few whistled bars of Tomorrow Belongs to Me sprang from her lips.

-0-

There were bodies to be claimed and buried by both sides. Susan had to check in with Gabriella, Pup, Selena in her coma, a dozen others. Harry had to talk a great deal with Hestaby, Kali, the mayor – a lot of Reddingites who'd been promised their vans back, or compensation. He and Susan had to talk to many Defenders who needed cyberlimbs, morphine, a ride home or a place to sleep, as well as every Defender who was starting to wonder when they'd be paid. Everyone in Calfree who wanted to tell them what they knew; they'd brought about the most incredible shift in history since the Great Ghost Dance. From the slide into cataclysmic Pacific war, some shadowrunners and a new kind of dragon had set the Sixth World on the beginning of a better path, perhaps. What, as they always asked, would Hotspur and Fighter do next?

Several days after the Battle of Shasta Dam, Harry and Susan got back to the hotel room they wouldn't have to pay until they had the money; the manager thought they were heroes. They collapsed on the bed and rolled into each other. Harry touched his wife's face, gently, because he had to hold himself back.

"Love, are you…what that fragger did to you, is it…?"

"…okay. Just another nightmare. What was done to her, could've been done to me, and too many women, strong or weak – that still hurts. Tomorrow I'll spend the rest of my life binding up that hurt, all I can. But it hurts tonight that I'm your wife, that no one could ever take what I gave you – I am myself, this is my life, that is the truth. It hurts that I haven't had sex with you for more than two years."

"…frag. You never…no one else?"

Scared as Harry looked, he drew closer. His hand ran smooth down Susan's arm to her sturdy waist. She shook her head, grinning through tears.

"Maybe I should've. Just to show you I could, but I really did had better things to do. Nobody does it better than you, tiger. No one else I'll ever love like this."

"Frag, I love you so much. Right now, I'll do anything you want…"

"…how about a foot massage?"

One quick wash later, instead of lying or sitting down, Susan stood against the wall. Like their very first time, Harry knelt before her. Pressing and circling over the raised, jasmine-scented foot she'd swiftly prepared for him, while her naked leg stiffened and loosed with the waves. Dark hair ground against the white wall, as her chin rose with her breasts.

With a chair for her throne, it would've been more comfortable – but she stood, and she was a warrior princess. Strong and invincible. Victorious. She had fought her fight on these shaking feet and won, and her strength was adored. Harry began to kiss her toes and feet.

"Oh, love…haven't you got a foot fetish?"

"…all of you, babe, all the way up." Panting so hard, he could barely speak, "I need you, I'm no hero…sometimes I think I am, I need you to bring me down…when I'm the useless idiot who couldn't save anyone, I need you to raise me up, Susan, please–!"

"Idiot. You saved everyone you could save. You saved me."

Susan's foot had begun to stroke Harry's tousled hair, his bandaged face. Her leg groaned with the pressure of latent power, as her toes pressed along Harry's clavicle. Between his bare shoulderblades. Harry groaned out loud, as he ground himself against the carpet. Susan knew the wonderful strength in heaving shoulders beneath her; the passionate heart that love had abased before her. When she couldn't bear it any more, her knees gave way. He surged up to meet her and threw her onto the bed.

Hours later, they had forgotten their own names, but not each other's. Forgotten shadowruns, the Sixth World, life and death, pain and fatigue – everything but the simple motion of love to which they had given up everything. The little death was a kind of Nirvana, while it lasted – but they remembered what they'd known in the cosmic darkness, that they must love each other. That whether the future held loss, parting or tragedy, they'd had this, and no reason to ever be afraid.

-0-

They spent the morning after in bed, snuggling in the sweet smell of two. They'd both satisfied themselves by night, that the beloved heart had come home. Now, they leisurely felt out every scrape and scar. Even the new ones; Susan felt Harry's unmended leg in every movement. Another chilling presence, among the chill of death that would never leave them – Susan felt the breath and warmth of the man she'd lost. Thought of the world where he was nameless and dead, as she clung to him tightly.

They were alive. In a few days, they'd have a decision to make about taking a pill - or not. A fresh, endless world of wonders waited outside the bedroom door. Nothing more wonderful than life...

"…love? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, now. Never want to leave…"

"One more hour, or two. We've got a city to save, again."

"Not by punching fascists, this time. No more battles. Harry, I love you dearly, but…one more day of training, one less day of amazing sex? Maybe I'd have really been a great adept."

"Maybe you'd have geeked Desorn, and we'd all have died in the caves. Hey, maybe we could've beaten up Lofwyr?"

"Serious. I can't crush iron with my hands, turn my skin to steel, or survive without food, water and air. I should've become a nun, gone to train in the mountains..."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Susan slapped Harry lightly, and kissed him, "Serious. Sex, earthly desires, make you weak? I should've been fragged."

"You're still got them – under control. All that drek you rose above, to all this, my amazing man."

"You never ran to drek from what you should've faced, angel. Pain or pleasure never turned you aside…why the frag are you so strong?"

"Because I'm a girl." Susan guided Harry to feel for himself. Sometime later, the same talk emerged from their afterglow.

"…ultimate power always takes sacrifice. Sex, family, freedom…we spent half our time in hospital, or just staying alive, while the Ghosts and triad adepts only trained. Selling their souls, like you said…like Ilsa, now, but she's not the same. What did Orion give up…frag, what didn't he give?"

"Everything they didn't take." Harry hugged Susan and warmed her back, against the deathly chill, "Orion was never a great adept because he could punch through steel, though. He taught you, taught me – not like a trideo Kung Fu master, or a fragging ork sidekick. He didn't solve our problems, he showed us his path; he had more vision and purpose than any of us. He tried to make a safe place, for the weak to get strong, and some fragger killed him. I think all we can do for that old ork is carry on what he did. That's what I want to do, anyway. Here, in Redding. We'll have to get some teaching from Hestaby, without getting eaten up by her work; there's just so much more we need to learn."

Susan had thought Orion was her shifu – but she'd called his killer trog, as she'd killed him. No question, that was not what Orion had taught her. Chip truth, as he had hunted truth through shadows, there was only one thing she could do about that.

Orion had taught her the truth; he'd taught her to teach. She'd taught; not enough to keep poor Croce alive, or too many Redding kids. Still she'd taught, holding up the weak until they grew strong, and she'd loved it, but she'd never been able to give up the fight.

She'd have done nothing but teach, if her father had lived. With blows, harsh words and harsher challenge, he had taught her Lei-style Kung Fu simply so that the seventh-generation master could pass the torch to her own kids. He had loved her; he'd never wanted her life to be full of hurt, death and rape. But she'd known, she had to use the power she held for her own will, if she had power or will at all. She'd chafed, dreamed, stayed with the father she loved as long as she could. Finally burst upon the world, to save the weak, as he'd taught her Kung Fu had been created for. It would've been such a shock to see his little girl now, but he would've proud. Proud as Orion. Sorrow's precious spear sank gently into her heart.

Abbess Ng Mui had been the token woman of the Five Elders who'd created Southern Shaolin Kung Fu; the ultimate martial artists, as far as south China was concerned. While the other four elders had involved themselves in famous duels and Qing dynasty civil conflicts, Ng Mui seemed to have devoted herself quietly to development of fresh martial styles. Very nearly the only deed she was known for was training a beautiful peasant girl, Yim Wing Chun, to fight off the bandit who'd meant to marry her by force. Wing Chun, encouraged by her chosen husband, had further developed Ng Mui's teachings into 'Wing Chun Fist', that descended from her to Yip Man and Bruce Lee.

Ng Mui and Wing Chun had been Susan's heroines before she could walk. She'd watched all the Hong Kong trids that wove them epic adventures, but she remembered the real legend now. She'd been determined to save the world herself, with all its beautiful people, by what she did. At the very end, she'd saved her love by teaching a broken survivor to fight again. For her other self, wherever she was, for Anya's future and Sarah's, for poor Gabriella, poor Serena, every girl and boy in a world of shadows who had to get strong

"…I'll teach. With everything I've got. I have to, for Orion's sake; I want to, for everyone's sake. I'll learn everything Hestaby has to teach. Definitely not leaving you to get cosy on Mount Shasta with a greedy dragon."

"Yeah, I might get gobbled up, unless you save me…" Susan growled in Harry's ear as she chewed it, "Only you, babe. Only you. If you were really a Shaolin nun, I'd have to seduce you. Unless you minded?"

"Hmmph. I'd be in China, centuries ago, training in the Yellow Mountains, and you'd be stuck in America. You'd probably be a cowboy."

"…maybe, not in Seattle, love. I'd be a pirate; I'd sail straight over to China to kidnap you. Or I'd be a knight; I'd search to the end of the Earth for my lady love. Maybe I did – I know something, somewhere, bound our souls together. Your courage is my hope. Your heart, the light I'll never let go."

"You should've been my knight, love, not a pirate...we really were born in the wrong time. Harry…in that nightmare Lofwyr meant to kill my soul with, there was a strange dream. Hundreds of Susan Leis. In steel armour, in powered armour, in robes, in school uniforms. Past lives, other worlds, I don't know."

"Might-have-been worlds are a mindfrag. A million of us who won through, another ten million who failed and died...if everything happens, nothing matters. Nothing we do."

"No, Harry – I'm me. Every one of those Susans had been hurt, less or worse, but every one of them was still fighting. Calling me to fight again, seek again, beat down the pain and go on to the end, for the sake of a hundred Susans and Harrys and Ilsas, and a whole lot more. It isn't rapists, megacorps, not the demon holding the wheel of worlds, that determines the shape of our lives. It's me, always, and you."


A/N: The next chapter, set eight years later in 2061, the Year of the Comet, will conclude this story