Steve wakes up, which is kind of the biggest surprise about the whole situation. He expected, after being captured, that Merlin would just kill him. That was his goal, wasn't it? Maybe he wants to gloat. That would make sense.

He's in Trollmarket. Brainwashed trolls mull about, standing guard or something. Jim is in front of him, back turned. Steve hates seeing his friend controlled like this. To think, once upon a time he'd thought Jim was evil. It's something he can't even imagine now.

He hopes the rest of his friends are okay. Toby and Seamus were both – injured. Badly. Steve remembers all the blood and feels sick. He tells himself they're going to be okay, that the Akiridion doctors will take care of it. He can't let himself believe otherwise, believe that two of his friends are dead.

Okay. He has to get out of here. Maybe he can get through to Jim and Jim can let him out. He shifts – oh, hey, he's tied up, that's great – and coughs to get Jim's attention.

"Jim," he hisses. "Jim! Hey! It's me! Your pal, Steve. Remember? I used to be a bit of a buttsnack – okay, a huge buttsnack – but we're buddies now, yeah? Lemme out!"

As almost expected, he gets no response.

"It's me," he says again. "Steve. Your buddy."

Still nothing.

"It's me," he stresses. "Steve. Your – I AM YOUR FRIEND."

And nothing again. He's not surprised. Not even Toby had been able to get through to him. If not even his best friend can get through to him, Jim's super gone and Steve is – super screwed. He's not sure when the others will be back – he guesses it depends on how long it takes them to heal – and he has no idea how long Merlin's planning to keep him alive. Probably not long enough for his friends to save him.

"Okay, Steve, think, think," he mutters to himself. He needs a plan. He is not the plan guy. Krel is the plan guy, except when he's not and he does something stupid like integrate with Gaylen's core. Even then, actually, he's the plan guy, he's just the bad plan guy.

He can't break through to Jim. Fine. He didn't really expect to be able to, anyway. He can't wait for his friends. He'll almost definitely be dead by the time they get here. So far, the best and only plan he can come up with is making a run for it arms tied and hoping not to get skewered or something along the way. His second-best plan is trying some ill-advised magic and hoping it doesn't explode. Or is that actually his best plan? He's so not good at this.

"There's no use trying to escape," says an unfortunately familiar voice. "You won't get very far."

"Still better than waiting on you to kill me," Steve mutters. He'd rather die on his own terms trying to get back to his friends than get murdered while tied up and defenceless.

"I presume I need not introduce myself," says Merlin.

"Oh, yeah, no intros needed," Steve says. "I know all about you and what you did to Jim. Oh, and how you've been trying to kill us for the past month."

"Well, not all of you," Merlin hedges, as if that might make Steve feel a little better about being captured by a crazy wizard who wants him dead. "I do want your alien friend alive."

"He's Akiridion," Steve corrects scathingly. "Alien is an offensive term."

He doesn't get a response from this. He huffs and shifts to a slightly more comfortably position. The cut on his cheek stings.

"Why are you doing this, anyway?" he demands. "Using the formstone will destroy the Earth! You live on the Earth!"

"The formstone will grant me unbelievable magic, boy," says Merlin. "I simply won't allow the Earth to be destroyed. I need a place to rule, don't I?"

Ignoring the pure overconfidence of that – seriously, Merlin thinks he'll be able to drain the formstone and keep the Earth intact? – at least Steve has a sort of idea of what Merlin's plan is. Take over the world. Standard villain.

"And what does that have to do with me?" he asks. "Why kill me?"

"I knew your – what is it now? Many times great-grandfather, I expect," says Merlin. "King Arthur. The one true king of England – made him arrogant, if you ask me."

"Ah, yes, you're definitely the expert on arrogance," Steve says dryly.

Merlin doesn't react to his subtle jab. "He gets a sword from a stone and suddenly he's king of the land! Pah. I believe he who has the power should be he who rules. Arthur was a mundane. I thought – shortly – that perhaps his son Mordred would make a better king one day, but Arthur gave the throne to his first-born. A girl."

"Sexist and power-hungry, great personality you've got there." Steve can't honestly imagine Mort as a king, anyway. Mort's awesome and all, but he gets frustrated enough with a group of teenagers. "Okay, so you're mad about something that happened like a thousand years ago and you're taking it out on me? That's super lame, man."

"Once I kill you – and Mordred, since that pesky princeling is still alive after all – there will be no one to contest my rule," Merlin says.

Steve states at him. He actually thinks – wow. He's more of a big-headed buttsnack than Steve thought.

"You do know that England doesn't equal the world, right?" he says. "There's like a gazillion other world leaders."

"That won't matter," says Merlin. "Once I have the power of the formstone, the world will have no choice but to bow to me."

"I feel like we're going in circles, because I'm stuck at the whole killing me thing again," says Steve. "If you're so convinced you'll be unstoppable, why do you need me out of the way? Clearly, I'm very stoppable."

"It's the principle of the thing," Merlin snaps.

"Fine, fine, okay," says Steve. "So why aren't I dead yet?"

"Because I need you as leverage," Merlin says. "Your alien friend, he's not particularly attached to my Trollhunter, is he?"

"Again, it's Akiridion," Steve shoots back. "And don't call Jim your Trollhunter."

"That is what he is," says Merlin.

"Anyway, Krel will never help you!" Steve hopes he sounds more confident than he feels. If there's one thing that will get to Krel, it's his friends – Steve knows he hasn't had many, if any before he came to Arcadia, and he's pretty sure there's almost nothing Krel wouldn't do to keep his friends safe. It's almost, like, storybook heroic of him, and it's a great quality to have in any other situation, if he were any other person who didn't have the key to the end of the world.

Merlin hums and raises an eyebrow. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

"Yeah," says Steve. "We'll see that I'm right! Because I am!"

For the record, Steve knows very well that he's not right, and besides which, it's not a choice he wants Krel to have to make. He's going to have to eliminate the choice somehow. He has to escape or – well – die trying.

"Well, once I have what I want, it shall be a pleasure to kill you," says Merlin, unsheathing a long, thin sword – or maybe summoning it, because Steve did not see a sword before. It doesn't look to be made of magic like the weapons all his wizard friends can conjure. He holds it out speculatively. "With your own ancestor's sword. What do you think?"

Yeah, okay. That's almost funny. Merlin's going to kill him with the sword he was so mad about earlier. Steve wracks his brain for its name – Expelliarmus? No, that's from those wizard books he knows Eli loves. Um. He knows this, he swears he knows this.

"Excalibur," he finally breathes. By the way Merlin's smile twitches downward, he thinks he's gotten it right. "Where did you get Excalibur?"

"Who did you think killed King Arthur?" Merlin says.

Steve swallows. Merlin's smirk returns to its original smug size. Excalibur disappears, and the wizard turns and walks away, leaving Steve alone to plan his escape – or his own death.

It's probably another hour before Steve decides to screw it and give magic a shot. He's tried annoying the trolls into letting him go, but none of them even so much as blink at him. It's eerie to see, and especially eerie to see in Jim. He thinks he's usually quite talented at getting under Jim's skin. To get no reaction whatsoever is… weird.

He runs through all the spells Mort's explicitly taught them, but none of them are specifically useful and he's not yet desperate enough to potentially blow himself up. Actually, no. He is that desperate.

He tries to focus his magic into his hands and grasps the ropes as best he can. Maybe he can, like, burn them away. He can feel the heat crackle in his palms, but the ropes don't seem to be affected. Okay. New plan. He tries to will the ropes to disappear. Nothing happens. He tries to will them to unravel. Again, nothing happens.

"Just my luck, magic-proof ropes," he mutters.

Okay. Next best plan. Maybe he can, like, dislocate something and get his arms to the front and unravel the ropes with his teeth. He saw that on Earth Invaders once. It can't be that hard. Mort's disapproving frown looms in the back of his mind. Yes, hallucination Mort, Steve knows this is a bad idea. He's out of good ideas, so he's trying it anyway.

It goes as well as expected. Steve's armour prevents him from even lifting his arms above his head the way they're tied. He groans and leans back with eyes closed.

He doesn't know how he's going to get out of this, but he has to. Somehow.

Okay. New plan. Excalibur. It belonged to his great-great-something granddad, right? So technically it should belong to him now. Or Mort, but he doesn't think Mort would mind if he used it to escape. Now he just has to – get it. How does he get it? Maybe he can, like – summon it? Like Jim can do with his sword. That's a plan. It's a terrible plan, but it's better than any other plans he's had so there's that.

Merlin walks by. Steve surges forward as much as he can.

"Hey! Buttsnack! Merlin!" he yells.

To his delight, he does catch the old wizard's attention. Merlin walks with a scowl. "What do you want, insolent child?"

"I think that sword doesn't belong to you," he bluffs.

Merlin raises his eyebrows. "You think I'd just give you Excalibur?"

"I'm not stupid," Steve scoffs.

"Actually, I would say stupid is the main impression you've given me thus far," Merlin says.

Steve scowls at him. He mentally shakes his head. His idea. He can totally do this.

"You may not give it to me," he says, mustering up as much bravado as he can manage, "but Excalibur is mine to command!"

He waits. Merlin crosses his arms.

Okay.

New tactic.

He summons all of his energy and manages – by some stroke of dumb luck – to launch himself to his feet. He manages a short laugh at his triumph, before running at Merlin with every intent to just full on tackle him. Will this probably end with him dead? Yeah. Does he care? Not at all. Okay. Maybe a little. Like, best-case scenario is not dying. But, again, he doesn't want to be bait for Krel, so he guesses second best-case scenario kind of is dying.

Merlin dodges out of the way and draws Excalibur. That's kind of cocky of him, but, then again, Steve's pretty sure Merlin's main character trait is overly arrogant. Well. At least when the plan fails the back-up plan won't.

Wait.

He has an idea.

It can't possibly be worse than every other idea he's ever had. He's tied up with rope, and maybe it's magic-proof rope, but is it sword-proof? Granted, Steve isn't sword-proof, but that's fine. He's just got to do this right and he won't have to worry about not being sword-proof.

He runs at Merlin again, but this time when the old wizard raises the sword to strike, Steve twists and does his best to put the rope in his line of attack. And not his hands. It seems pure dumb luck is on his side today, because he feels when the sword shears through the rope and the strands snap, freeing Steve's arms. Steve stretches delightedly. Merlin snarls.

"Perhaps you're cleverer than I gave you credit for," he concedes. "Or luckier."

Steve is pretty sure it's all luck, but he's not going to tell Merlin that. He flares focusers around his hands briefly. He and Merlin circle each other.

"That isn't your sword," Steve says again. "You took it from my ancestor. From my family. That sword should be Mort's."

"Excalibur was never meant for Mordred," says Merlin.

Fine. If it doesn't belong to Mort, then–

"Excalibur is my birth-right," Steve says. He's only 80% sure he's using that correctly, but by the way Merlin's blue eyes darken he gets the gist. "You don't deserve to put your filthy hands on it."

"You want the sword, princeling?" Merlin says. Steve flinches at the mocking title. "Come and get it."

Steve lets out a wordless shout and charges. He still doesn't really know how to make weapons, but he lets magic surround his fists and forearms and uses that. Even untied, he's not much match for Merlin. He does an okay job deflecting jabs and slices but that's about it. He's not dead. It's better than he expected.

He jumps back and skids until he's a few feet from Merlin. He's not going to be able to win this, not unarmed, but he has one more thing he could maybe try. It will either be really, really epic, or really, really stupid.

"Did you hear me?" he yells, trying to pull his face to look as intimidating as possible and ignoring the way the cut on his cheek protests the movement. "Exaclibur belongs to me!"

Merlin has the guts to scoff. Steve's anger grows from campfire to roaring, angry wildfire. He throws out his sword hand towards Merlin.

"EXCALIBUR!" he screams.

To his utter shock – and to Merlin's fury – Excalibur lights up golden and flies out of his hand. Steve catches it by the handle and smoothly falls back into one of the proper sword-fighting stances Ikram taught him.

"Insolent child," growls Merlin. He raises a hand. "TROLLS!"

"Oh, kleb," Steve says. New plan. Again. Wow, he's really coming up with a lot of plans today. He runs. He manages to surprise Merlin and the trolls enough to barrel past them. He's been in Trollmarket running for his life enough times to have a vague idea of the way out. He hears the trolls behind him.

"AFTER HIM!" Merlin roars.

"Kleb, kleb, kleb, kleb," Steve mutters to himself as he skids around a corner and towards the stairs. Stairs, why does it have to be stairs? Now would be a great time to be able to fly.

Somehow, by luck again – he's actually got good luck today, that's seriously a first – he manages to make it up the stairs and to the exit. Except there's no exit, because he needs the horn-whatsit. He gives a strangled, quiet shout and glances back. The trolls are almost up the stairs. He's super screwed.

Okay, Mort said wizards didn't need a horn-thingy. Maybe there's a spell. Magic is all about intent, right?

"Okay, Steve, you can do this," he mutters. He lets magic gather around his hand, then presses it to the wall. The wall explodes outwards. "Not what I meant to do, but I'll take it!"

He runs out and scurries into the canal, into the sunlight. Oh, he is so glad it's a sunny day. The trolls and Jim skid to a stop under the bridge, snarling. For the first time, Steve is grateful Jim is a troll.

"We're going to save you," Steve says. The trolls don't respond. He didn't expect them to. "We're going to save all of you. I promise."

He forces himself to turn and walk away, pretending it doesn't hurt to leave his friend behind in the shadows.

Arcadia feels so wrong. It's eerily silent and the people look – kinda dead, except that they're all standing up, which makes it even creepier. He finds his way to his house. Mom and Dad are both frozen in the living room with the TV on, still playing as if nothing happened. Steve turns it off.

"I'm sorry," he says to them. They can't hear him. Maybe that's for the best. "I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm pretty sure I'm messing it up. But I'm gonna make it right. Even if that means – well, if it comes to that, I'm sorry."

He hesitates a moment longer, then shakes his head and climbs the stairs to his room. It's – shocker – a mess, and Steve inwardly curses himself for not cleaning it the last time he was here. He drops Excalibur and digs first through the covers of his bed. Nothing. Come on, he knows it's here. He knows he'd borrowed it. He moves on to search the floor.

"Gotcha!" he exclaims, triumphantly pulled A Brief Recapitulation of Wizard Lore out from under a t-shirt. Mort would have his head if he knew Steve had this specific book just lying on the floor. The thought of Mort makes him wince, but he stops himself from thinking of how hard Mort went down in the battle. Nope. Not going there. He sits cross-legged on the floor and flips through the book.

A lot of the book is history. Cool. Great. Steve skips that. Come on, come on, stasis spell, stasis – there!

"Now where's your undo button," he mumbles, tracing his finger along the words on the page. "Aha!"

He's relieved there even is an undo spell, but he has no idea how he's going to cast it on everyone in town. One by one will take an impossible amount of time. All at once sounds – difficult. He bets it will take a lot of power, power he's not sure he has. Can using too much magic kill him?

"Doesn't matter," he tells himself. "We're all gonna die anyway."

He skins the page. Not suggested for beginners. Well, tough luck. Maybe he'll do better if he goes to where Merlin originally cast the spell – it's light enough out now that he should be safe from the trolls. Okay. That's a plan.

He tucks the book into a drawstring bag and swings it over his shoulder. He grabs Excalibur, watching it glint in the sunlight spilling in from the window.

"You and me are going to kick some butt," he tells it. Then he leans his head back and sighs. "And I'm talking to a sword now. Great."

A glance at the clock on the microwave on his way out tells him he does have a good bit of time before sunset. That's good. It means he doesn't have to run to the canal. He speed-walks anyway. The trolls have vanished, back into Trollmarket presumably. Steve is alone.

He skims the words to the spell until he's sure he's got them memorised, then closes his eyes and focuses. The world lights up around him but the ground under the bridge glows brightest. He'll deal with the implications of that later. He makes his way to the centre.

"Here's hoping," he says, placing his hands to the ground. Energy floods him like an electric shock. He speaks the words and hopes he's pronouncing them right. "Rhyddhewch y sillafu."

The magic responds to his words but he can tell it's not enough. He repeats the incarnation, once, twice, three times, until he's not sure what he's saying anymore, until his voice is hoarse and his arms are trembling and finally – finally they give out. He hits the ground, weak, panting, but traffic sounds above him, life going on.

"I did it," he gasps out in relief. He pushed himself into a sitting position. He actually did it. His body shakes like after a very gruelling workout. The glow of success feels – really nice.

He starts stumbling back to his house, to Mom and Dad. A hand catches him, somewhere downtown, and he spins away and brandished Excalibur threateningly. Logan throws his hands up.

"Just me!" he says. "Dude, you look like crap."

"And you look like you don't have a clue what just happened," says Steve after a moment.

Logan's face morphs in concern. "Then tell me."

Steve hesitates, but everyone is going to find out anyway. There's no way around it.

"Come with me," he says.

Logan wraps an arm around Steve's back to support him. "This the weird stuff?"

"Yeah," says Steve. "So. Uh. You were right."

Logan stares at him blankly for a moment before his jaw drops. "No way! Wizards?"

"Yep," says Steve.

"Are you a wizard?"

"Yep."

"Holy crap. Does Seamus know?"

"Seamus is also a wizard."

"DUDE!"

"I know, that's what I was saying!"

Logan glances around unsurely. "Where is Seamus? And Domzalski and Tarron for that matter?"

"On Akiridion-5," says Steve. "They're fine. I hope. I mean I think Toby and Seamus were both a little stabbed–"

"Stabbed!?"

"But they'll be fine!" Steve smiles and pretends like he's sure. Logan shakes his head.

"Dude, how can you be a little stabbed!?" he asks.

"Well, okay, I guess they were pretty stabbed."

"What the heck."

"There was a battle, uh, last night," Steve says. He hopes it was only last night. "You and, well, everyone else in Arcadia were frozen. I, uh, fixed it."

"That's so cool," says Logan. "Wizards, man... wow."

"Yeah, so, I'm going to tell Mom and Dad – uh, Coach – what's going on," Steve says. "I think we're safe until sunset. Unless Merlin comes after me on his own. He's arrogant enough. Not that I'm much of a threat."

"You've got magic and a dope sword!" Logan exclaims. "I bet you could kick his butt."

"Glad one of us thinks so," Steve says.

They've reached his house by now. Steve pulls open the door and they walk in. Dad grabs him in a hug as he enters.

"Hey, kiddo," he says. "How are you holding up?"

Oh. Right. As far as his parents know, Krel is still dead.

"Your face!" Mom cries in distress.

"A lot has happened," he says. "So we know who our bad guy is – it's Merlin. And he attacked and froze the whole town and we fought and super lost, but the others escaped to Akiridion-5. I, uh, got captured, but I escaped and unfroze everybody. Also, Krel's not dead."

Dad's eyes fill with tears. "He's okay?"

"Okay is relative," admits Steve. "But he's alive."

"Wait, wait, was there a question about that?" says Logan.

"Uh, yeah, we were completely sure Krel was – gone – until he showed up like yesterday," Steve says. "It was – it was pretty real. To us. We had a funeral."

"Man," mutters Logan. "But he's alright?"

"Relatively," says Steve. He's not sure how much he'd use "okay" and "alright" to describe the state Krel had come back in – extensively burned and clearly hiding some sort of emotional trauma – but at least Krel is alive. That's what matters. He shakes his head. "We need to get you guys and all the other normal people out of here. Arcadia is about to become the front line of another massive battle."

"No way!" Logan exclaims.

"You're not getting rid of us that easily," says Dad. "You kids need all the help you can get. I'm gonna call Karl and Lenora."

"Dad–"

"And the radio!" Dad exclaims. He puts a hand on Steve's armoured shoulder. "But you're going to have to explain, son."

Steve glances at Logan, loyally determined, at Mom, smiling grimly, and back to Dad.

"Alright," he says. "Tell people to meet us where we had Battle of the Bands. And tell them to bring weapons."

More people than he honestly expects show up to his impromptu rally. He recognises most of his classmates in the crowd, confused and worried but used to the weird stuff by now. Steve almost doesn't want to tell them they've got yet another apocalypse coming. Logan sends him a thumbs up from the front row.

"Uh, hey, guys," Steve says, which sounds super lame. He coughs awkwardly. "Thanks for coming. Um, you're probably wondering why I gathered you all here."

He takes a deep breath and hopes he's not making a mistake. There are rules about this, he knows there are. Mundanes aren't supposed to know about magic. But Arcadia already knows about trolls and extra-terrestrials, and they've kept that secret. They'll keep this one, too.

"So I know you remember the trolls and the Akiridions," he says. There are murmurs and nods from the crowd. "Well, there's more. A whole world that you guys don't know about. Wizards. And I'm one of them."

A hush falls over the crowd, before – slowly and timidly – Shannon raises her hand.

"Yeah," she says. "Uh, me too."

Like a switch had been flipped, dozens of hands shoot up in the crowd. A couple of Steve's classmates besides Shannon. Adults he's seen around town. Steve's almost amazed by the number of secret wizards living in his town.

"Great," he says, the pleased surprise slipping into his voice. "So, any questions about that, go to your nearest wizard or wizard associate. Familiar. You know what, moving on."

This gets a couple of laughs, which makes Steve feel even worse for the news he's about to drop on them.

"So, uh, bad news, we've got another apocalypse on our hands," Steve says. The crowd erupts into chatter, and Steve winces. Dad rolls his eyes and pulls out his whistle – seriously, Dad? – and blows it hard.

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!" he yells. The crowd falls silent.

"Uh, thanks, Dad," says Steve. Dad gives him two delighted thumbs-up. "So, about a week after Morando attacked, me and some of my friends started getting attacked by these Knights sent by a crazy evil wizard called Merlin. Turns out he's trying to use something called a formstone to become super powerful and rule the world, except if he uses the formstone it's going to destroy the world. So, that's a problem. He's got a bunch of trolls brainwashed into being his army, including Jim – Lake. Jim Lake, Jr. Most of you know him."

The crowd erupts again. Steve catches bits and pieces – Darci complaining about coming back from vacation to this, Señor Uhl cursing in Spanish, a little troll – Not-Enrique, he thinks – shouting angrily that he knew Merlin was bad news. Coach whistles again to get the crowd under control. Steve tries to make himself look more confident than he feels.

"There's a big fight coming, and it's not going to be pretty," he warns. "If you want to leave, you should get out now. But if you want to stay and fight, we have to work together and be careful. We can do this if we believe in ourselves, which sounds super cheesy but Jim's been kind of right every time he's said it so it must mean something. So we can do this."

Dad and Mom start clapping first, followed by Logan. Steve appreciates them. It's much more of a shock when the rest of the crowd joins in, shouting encouragements to each other and proving that even if Steve wants everyone to leave, everyone is staying.

"At nightfall, we have to be ready!" Steve calls.

"Nightfall!" the crowd echoes.

Huh. He did a pretty good job, after all.

As if to make things even more hyped, a glowing wormhole opens behind him. Relief floods him as his friends all step out, along with a ton of trolls that must not be from Trollmarket and a bunch of Akiridion soldiers. The trolls are all outfitted with what look to be some sort of Akiridion tech shield that Steve assumes is protecting them from the sun. Krel catches sight of him first; his face lights up and he launches forward to hug Steve, wrapping all four armoured arms around him and laughing elatedly.

"You're alive!" he cries. "Thank Seklos! We thought – we thought–"

"I'm alive," Steve says.

Toby and Seamus join the hug; Steve is relieved they both seem okay, at least okay enough that they're allowed to be in armour and here to fight. They release him and Seamus hits him hard on the upper arm.

"We said no sacrifices, buttsnack," he snaps.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," says Steve.

Seamus looks like he's going to say something else, but Krel tugs on his arm and all three of them move out of the way. Then – before Steve has time to wonder why his friends are acting weird – Aja has tackled him and pressed her lips to his, upper hands grasping his face desperately and lower arms wrapped around his torso. Steve pushes away his surprise and lets his hands rest on her back.

"We thought Merlin killed you," she says after pulling away. She rests her forehead on his. "The last thing I told you was to leave."

"It's okay," he says. "Does this mean you're less mad at me?"

"It wasn't your fault," says Aja. She looks away. "I shouldn't have blamed you."

"I blamed me too," Steve says. He still does, even though he knows Krel doesn't and never would. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"I'm sorry, too," he says.

"Can we be done with the face-smushing already?" Krel asks impatiently. Aja giggles. Steve laughs. Leave it to Krel to try to get them back on track. "We've got one more ally I think you'll want to meet."

Mort scowls and grumbles something that sounds like, "This is a bad idea." That doesn't make Steve feel good about it. Krel places a small device on the ground and turns it on. A deep black portal appears above it, and moments later, a woman in golden armour steps out and flexes her hands, a smirk twisting her lips upwards. Steve doesn't need an introduction to know who she is.

"Now," says Morgana, "we're ready for a fight."