Archon

by overlyred

NOTE:none of these story are mind kinda just transferd it to fanficion to aduiobook and hear it

4. part4

you believe a real Kendo School opened in Brockton Bay!?"

"Yeah, it's cool," Junior agreed. "Do you think the teacher's met Raiden?"

"I don't know, ask your other dad, he would know," Taylor pointed out. "Where's Uncle Keith, anyway?"

"Busy," Uncle Arthur said from the driver's seat as he pulled out of the parking lot. "I'll be at the coffee shop next door if you two need anything. The lessons are from 6:00-7:30 pm. Did you eat dinner, Taylor?"

"Yeah," Taylor said, leaning forward in her seatbelt. "Have you ever met Raiden, Uncle Arthur?! You met Venti, right?"

"I did," her honorary uncle agreed. "But I've never had the honor of meeting the Raiden Shogun. Fortunately."

Taylor wrinkled her nose trying to puzzle that one out, but settled back in her seat to watch the traffic go by. This was a nice part of town, so everything was new and shiny, and there weren't very many potholes in the road. She clutched her father's Vision tightly and thought about how she would master the Blade, and kill the Siberian. Which was what Taylor thought about a lot of the time.

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the strip mall, and Taylor and Junior piled out of the car with the wood swords and kendo uniforms as Uncle Arthur waved goodbye and told them to behave.

Inside, Taylor felt disappointed once more. She'd already been inside the dojo, but in her head it was a mystical sanctuary, with hardwood panels, jade statues, and those cool samurai robots. Instead, she found herself in a normal drywall room with blue gym mats at the center. There weren't even those neat reed mats, just foam yoga pads for people to sit on.

"Taylor! Junior! Over here!" Sarah called, waving excitedly, and Taylor and Junior both stripped off their jackets and shoes, then ran over to kneel on a mat beside their friend.

"Did you see sensei!? Is he really a Vision Holder?!" Taylor asked excitedly. She had a half baked plan in her head that their new kendo sensei would teach her how to reignite her father's Vision, but mostly she just wanted to learn to hit people with a sword. Either way, it was just another step in her Master Plan to avenge her father's death.

"I haven't seen him yet, my brother just dropped me off," Sarah said with a shrug. She held up the wooden sword that had purchased when they signed up for classes. "This is cool though, right?"

"Come on, let's face one another!" Taylor said eagerly, jumping up and holding her sword in a two handed grip like they did in Lightning Princes Ami.

"I don't know guys…" Junior said, looking uncertain. "I don't think we're-"

"En garde!" Sarah cried and their swords met with a loud clatter.

No sooner had they done so, however, then a door in the back opened and a teenaged girl in a uniform with a blue belt and a sword at her hip ran out. "Oh my! This isn't how things are supposed to go at all! Please, put down your swords. You haven't even had your first lesson yet, you really shouldn't be fighting."

Taylor and Sarah paused, swords raised high, and examined the girl. She didn't look Japanese, with platinum blonde hair done up in a tight bun on the back of her head, rosy cheeks with freckles, and green eyes. She looked to be around 14, which made her old, but still cool.

"You're not the sensei," Sarah said, her voice accusatory. "He's a samurai."

"Master Kaedehara will be out shortly, but he is very strict! Why, if he catches you playing with your swords, he'll punish you most severely!" the girl said breathily. "Please, sit down, no fighting! It'll make a terrible mess!"

Reluctantly, Sarah and Taylor sat back down, while Junior smirked at both of them. Sarah preemptively stuck her tongue out at him, which made Junior roll his eyes.

The class was soon full, with 20 kids between the ages of 8 and 10. A few parents waited around in the back or outside, while the teenager ran around and kept the peace with the squirrely children.

At exactly 6:00 pm, Taylor was keeping track by the clock on the back wall, the rear door opened again and a man in another martial arts suit ambled out, a cup of tea in one hand. He didn't look like Taylor had expected a Japanese Samurai to look either. For one thing, his hair was similar in color to his assistants, though his was obviously dyed, with a single red forelock. Strangely he had a bright orange kazoo on a leather thong about his neck, which was funny. His hair was long and messy looking, casually pulled back into a ponytail with a red ribbon. He did look asian, but his most striking feature was the glowing green gem on his black belt: an Anemo Vision.

"Are the students ready, Miss Smith?" Master K asked, his voice lightly accented.

The assistant bowed deeply. "Yes, Sensei. They are ready."

"Very good." The man took a long sip of tea, then set his cup on the floor next to the wall and smiled at the students. "Good evening, students."

"Good evening," Taylor and the other kids echoed. She clutched her father's Vision, heart pounding. Was this her first true step on her journey?

"I am Kaedehara Kazuha. But that's a bit of a mouthful, so you can call me Sensei Kazoo." He held up the instrument, then blew a jaunty little tune on it, which made all the children giggle. Even Miss Smith smiled.

"This is Noelle Smith, but you will call her Sensei Noelle while we're learning. Everyone say hello," Sensei Kazoo said, and the girl bowed again, blushing deeply.

"Hello Sensei Noelle," the children repeated dutifully.

"Hmm, I see you all have your swords," Sensei Kazoo said, looking around at all the children. "I'm afraid we won't be needing those today: Please give them all to Sensei Noelle."

The children made disappointed noises, with Sarah going so far as to shout, "No fair!"

"Oh? You don't approve?" Sensei Kazoo grinned. "Well, I'll tell you what. If you follow directions and work hard, you'll earn your swords back in no time. To sweeten the deal, if you all do a good job tonight, Sensei Noelle and I will have an exhibition match."

The children's breath all caught, and they all snuck furtive glances at Sensei Noelle. Was she a cape too? Taylor figured she had to be, if she was going to have a duel with Sensei Kazoo since he was one. Taylor reluctantly handed her sword to Sensei Noelle when she came around, then turned back to Sensei Kazoo.

"Very good. Now, the first step of the Origin Bladework path, is to be of sound body, and sound mind. We'll begin with some light exercises. Everyone, stand up, and follow me around the mat!" Sensei Kazoo then led the gaggle of giggling children in laps around the room, walking in different ways. He would call out, "Horse!" and everyone would gallop, then "Crane!" and have them take long, funny steps. He repeated this for several animals, then had the students practice jumping jacks.

Taylor found it to be enjoyable, but she was slightly disappointed. This was basically just PE with some funny dancing steps that they practiced after that, then a game of Ninja where you had to strike your opponent's arm with one motion while dodging their own blow.

After an hour, Taylor was sweaty and tired, but in a good way. Parents were coming in, including Uncle Arthur and Sarah's older brother, but Sensei Kazoo had the children sit along the mat.

"Now, our demonstration match. So that you can all see what the path of Origin Bladework will lead us to," Sensei Kazoo told them.

Sarah raised her hand, then without waiting to be called on said, "Excuse me, this is Kendo class. Why aren't you saying Kendo?"

"Ah, a good point," Sensei Kazoo nodded and smiled. "This is not a Kendo class. It was advertised as such, due to a miscommunication. But I studied with the Sentai, and learned the way of Origin Bladework. It is very different from Kendo, or any other school of martial arts, for it comes from the Raiden Shogun herself."

"Did you face the Raiden Shogun!?" Taylor asked, then raised her hand halfway through the question.

Sensei Kazoo chuckled. "I'll tell you about that some other time. But yes, I did meet her Excellency."

There were delighted gasps, even as Sensei Noelle brought Kazoo a wooden sword, then bowed to him.

"Ah, thank you." Glancing around, Sensei Kazoo spotted Sarah, then took off his Vision and handed it to her. "Hold this, will you? I don't want anyone to think I was cheating."

Sarah's eyes were as big as dinner plates as she took the Vision, the other kids gasping and shooting her jealous looks. Sarah gazed into the swirling vortex within the Vision, even as Sensei Kazoo and Noelle stepped out onto the mat. Taylor's eyes were soon fixed to the two combatants as they bowed formally to one another.

"Ready, Sensei," Noelle said, putting both hands on her sword hilt, which was still sheathed at her side.

Kazoo nodded casually, taking out a bit of straw from somewhere and sticking it in his mouth. His posture was relaxed, hands at his side, without trying to draw his sword. "Begin."

In a move that was almost too fast for Taylor to see, Noelle drew her wooden sword and dashed forward, slicing at Kazoo hard enough that it would have broken bones if her blow had connected. Instead, Kazoo took what looked like a lazy step to the side, leaning back away from the blow. Noelle didn't hesitate, pivoting on one foot and bringing her sword up in a sweeping arc.

Instead of dodging, Kazoo drew his sword one handed, redirecting Noelle's attack away from himself, then slicing down so that his blow rapped lighting on her ribs.

"Point," Noelle gasped, shaking her head. "The match is yours, Master."

"Hmm, a bit too fast," Kazoo mused, scratching his chin. He grinned. "Reset. Let's give them a show this time."

"Hai!" Noelle cried, bowing, and returned her sword to her side. This time, when Kazoo stood apart from her, he had his own hands on his sword. The two regarded each other for a long moment, and Taylor held her breath in anticipation.

As if at an unseen signal, both Noelle and Kazoo drew and attacked in what appeared to be the same instant. Their swords rang together with a sharp clack, and then the two of them moved back and forth on the exercise mat, exchanging a flurry of blows. Taylor could only watch in astonishment; the only time she'd seen anyone move that fast was when Aunty Becky or Uncle Keith used their powers. Noelle didn't seem to be quite as fast as Kazoo, but she was solid and steady on her feet, while he weaved back and forth, his blade moving like a serpent.

This time, the battle lasted for nearly a minute, until Noelle's blade passed in front of Kazoo's face like lightning, severing the bit of grass he'd held there. Both combatants instantly froze as the tuft slowly floated down. Noelle was breathing hard, sweat soaking her uniform, but her grip and legs were still steady. Kazoo was breathing easily, but his back was just as soaked as his opponents.

Spitting out the stem of grass, Kazoo grinned, then bowed. "The match goes to you, Miss Smith. Excellent work."

"I just got lucky this time," Noelle said, returning the bow. "Thank you for honoring me with a match."

Then Kazoo stood up, turning back to the children. "So, do you want to learn how to do that?"

"YES!" all the kids squealed, then jumped up and swarmed Kazoo and Noelle both.

"Do you have powers!? Are you a parahuman?!" Taylor asked Noelle breathlessly as she crowded around the teen with a dozen other kids.

"Oh, goodness! Um, no, I don't have any parahuman abilities. Really, I'm just an ordinary high school student. I've been practicing kendo for several years at another dojo, and my Sensei recommended me to Sensei Kazoo. I'm just working here part time," Noelle explained.

"But that was so cool! You must have powers!" Sarah insisted, holding up Kazoo's Vision. "Sensei Kazoo has powers! But you beat him!"

"W-well, he was fighting with a handicap, really, I'm not very talented, I just work hard," Noelle said, blushing.

"Alright, alright. That's enough for today," Kazoo said, clapping his hands. "Thank you, Miss Livsey, I'll be taking that. The rest of you, at the end of training, we bow and say 'Thank you very much.'"

"THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" all the kids shouted, bowing awkwardly, then they ran off to their parents.

"Miss Hebert, was it? A moment, if you will," Kazoo said, putting a hand on Taylor's shoulder before she could run over to Uncle Arthur.

She paused, turning curiously to look up at her Sensei, who knelt down in front of her.

"This is a class for beginners. But I noticed you had a Vision. I'm afraid it wouldn't be safe for a Vision Holder to spar with beginners," Kazoo said gently.

Taylor's eyes suddenly teared up, and she looked away. "... mine's broken…"

"Oh?" Kazoo gently took Taylor's Vision, examining it. "It does seem inert. It was an Electro Vision, but to lose your ambition so young…"

"It was my dad's," Taylor sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "He was a hero. The Siberian killed him."

"Ah." Kazoo handed the Vision back, then put a hand on Taylor's shoulder. "I see. You wish to follow in your father's footsteps then?"

Taylor nodded eagerly, and Kazoo smiled. "Well, it is still a mystery as to how us mortals are granted Visions by the Archons, but I remember when I heard the voice of Lord Barbados. He called me to never allow myself to be bound by tradition, and to seek beyond the horizon for freedom. That's what brought me here, really. I don't know how long I'll stay, but I promise that while I'm here, I'll help you honor your father's legacy. OK?"

"OK," Taylor agreed eagerly, brushing away her tears and adjusting her glasses with a smile.

"We'll see you next week," Kazoo promised.

"Goodbye, Taylor! Have a good week," Noelle said, smiling and waving goodbye.

During the ride home, Junior talked excitedly with his dad, but Taylor was quiet and thoughtful. At home, she was exhausted, and after brushing her teeth and showering, went right to bed. She cradled her father's Vision in her hands, rubbing it with her fingers.

One day, I'll be strong, and a hero, just like you. I'll protect everyone, Taylor thought, her eyes fluttering closed.

She missed the spark that kindled briefly in the Vision, but someone else, a world away, had heard her silent prayer.

The Shogun's lips curled in a smile, and she nodded her approval. Soon.

Running as fast as her legs could carry her, Shenhe gasped for breath, her sweat-slick hand gripping Shuyu's as hard as she could. The heat from the flames behind them blasted both girls, blistering their skin and cracking their lips, but both made as little sound as possible.

Behind them, they heard the screams of Shenhe's mother, then the bark of a rifle, and silence. Shenhe would have wept, but the heat from the inferno that had been their village dried her tears before they fell. She couldn't look back. Only run as fast as she could.

Beside her, little Shuyu cried out, then tripped, nearly dragging Shenhe down with her. She stumbled, falling to one knee, her hand still grasping onto Shuyu's as tightly as she could.

Shenhe saw what Shuyu had tripped over, and tried not to vomit. It was their grandmother, Yuandei. Her dress had been ripped off, and there was blood between her legs, but her head was a smashed-in ruin.

"G-grandma!" Shuyu whimpered, trying to struggle to her feet, but she wailed and fell back down. Shenhe could see her cousin's ankle was twisted and grimaced.

"Come on," she whispered and grunted as she lifted Shuyu onto her back. She was twelve now, and strong, while Shuyu was only five and still small.

"B-but grandma!" Shuyu cried, clinging tightly to Shenhe's neck.

"I'll come back for her," Shenhe promised, knowing there was nothing to come back for here. Ever.

Shenhe sprinted into the rice paddies, wading through the ankle-deep water as Shuyu cried into the back of her neck. Grimly, she squelched through the mud, moving as fast as she could.

"There! I knew I heard something! Two more!"

There was the bark of a rifle, and Shenhe screamed despite herself. No pain, so the shot had missed, but she had been so scared she missed her footing and sank to one knee in the mud, Shuyu barely clinging on.

"It's two girls. Don't just shoot them. They're more fun when they're alive."

Grimly, Shenhe got back to her feet and struggled on, trying desperately to use the rice paddies to get some distance. She could hear the bandits coming along behind her, laughing and making coarse jokes.

"Stop running, little girl, or I will kill you first!" one of the men called, but Shenhe ignored them.

"Please, someone, anyone, help!" Shuyu wailed, but it was pointless.

The men in the village who hadn't already been conscripted by one side or another had all tried to resist the bandits. They had been the first to die. Their little village was tiny, with only some axes and knives to try to use as weapons, all the guns long gone.

Looking up towards the mountains, Shenhe tried to gauge how far she'd have to run to get to safety. It was less than a li to the woods, but an impossible distance all the same. She gazed up hopelessly at the smoke-filled sky, knowing that she and her cousin were about to die.

Something cut through the air, and Shenhe flinched. A plane? A helicopter? Or worse, a cape? Some of the armies fighting in the area had all three, would they drive off the bandits?

If they did, Shenhe and Shuyu were dead or worse anyway. The only difference between soldiers and bandits these days was what uniform they wore when they were robbing you.

"Hey, what's that? I saw something," one of the bandits cried.

"It's just a bird, idiot. Don't let the girls get away, I haven't had my fun for today yet."

It was a bird. A crane, a very large one, swooping down from the mountains. There was something else beside it, another bird? No, this one was too large and fluffy, and didn't have wings, but it was following behind the bird.

None of it mattered. Shenhe could hear the bandits only a few steps behind her, their longer legs letting them wade through the rice paddy faster than she could. Screaming in rage, Shenhe tried to press forward, to take one more step, to live for one more second.

There was a roar above her, and Shenhe looked up in time to see the giant crane dive down towards her. Her heart stopped for one impossible moment, as she wondered if the bird was going to kill her and Shuyu both, and spare them from their grisly fate.

And then the bird impacted the ground between Shenhe and the bandits, knocking her into the muck as a spray of water and mud covered her and her pursuers.

"What insolence is this!? Five men, to face two young children? Pah! One wonders how you have the courage to face such odds."

Blinking, Shenhe managed to pull herself out of the muck. Who had spoken? It sounded like a woman's voice, a rich lady's voice. But there was just the crane, standing on one leg in the rice paddy, and the bandits, who had also been knocked down. Behind them, the village still burned, though dark clouds were gathering over the village now. That was strange. It had been a clear day for late Autumn.

"What the fuck?" one of the bandits spat, getting to his feet, he and his gun now covered in mud. "What was that?"

"It was the fucking bird! Shoot her!" another gasped, and stood up, pointing his gun at the bird, and pulling the trigger. Shenhe flinched, but nothing happened.

"What inferior craftsmanship. Perhaps if you had taken better care of your weaponry, it would serve you somewhat better," the voice said again.

Shenhe looked around in astonishment, but it was Shuyu beside her who gasped, "It's the crane! It can talk, look!"

"That's crazy," Shehu muttered, staggering to her feet. But there seemed to be no other explanation. The crane was huge, bigger than any other bird Shenhe had ever seen by far. Now that it was closer, Shenhe spied a sparkling green gem on a golden necklace around the crane's neck. That was strange, but Shenhe was not taking any risks.

"Get up, we have to run," Shehu told Shuyu, trying to drag her cousin to her feet.

"Young one. You appear injured. Stay. This one will treat your wounds, once this one has dealt with these mongrels," the crane said.

"Fuck it, it's just a bird!" a bandit snarled and swung his muddy rifle like a club.

"Hmph. Such impertinence!" the crane snorted, and its raised leg kicked out. There was a blast of wind, and the man cried out in pain as he was blasted back a dozen meters, before hitting a rock with a sickening crunch. He twitched a bit, but he didn't rise.

"FUCK! CAPE!" another bandit shouted, and all four of the remaining bandits rushed the crane.

"Close your eyes, young ones," the crane said gently. "One would not have you see what must come to pass."

Shuyu whimpered and clutched at Shenhe, but neither girl closed her eyes. Both watched as the crane vanished, and a dark-haired woman in a flowing green gown took its place. She had no weapon save for the Vision that hung from her neck, but that was more than enough. With kicks of furious gales and punches that created vortexes, the crane woman effortlessly took apart the four men in a handful of seconds. She was economical in her movements, graceful and elegant, but she was not gentle. Her blows shattered bones and ruptured organs, and the men coughed blood or screamed in pain as they went down.

Shenhe felt only a dull sense of relief at seeing their deaths. Perhaps there was some justice left in the world.

With the men dead, the crane woman surveyed her handiwork, grimacing. "Such wanton violence. A waste. What need have we for more death and destruction…"

Sighing, the woman shook her head, then turned and smiled. She strode over to Shenhe and Shuyu, her movements swift and precise, like a crane wading through the water. Ignoring the fact that her gown was becoming stained with mud, she knelt down, offering both girls a hand. "Greetings, young mortals. I am… well, one supposes that one's name is not quite pronounceable in the mortal tongue. Hmm. A most puzzling predicament. Hmm, the closest translation would be The Perfected Lord who Retains the Clouds by Borrowing the Wind."

Shenhe just nodded dully, her mind completely overwhelmed.

"Um, can we just call you Lord Cloud Retainer?" Shuyu asked.

"Heavens no!" the crane woman said, pursing her lips. Had they offended her? Shenhe braced herself, but the woman continued, "One does not seek needless titles. You may simply call this one Cloud Retainer."

"Yes, Cloud Retainer. Thank you for saving us," Shenhe said, remaining crouched in the mud.

Cloud Retainer gave her a sad smile, then stood and offered her hand again. "Please, stand. One imagines that both of you shall require some aid."

"Yes, we-" Shenhe jumped as there was a roar, and looked back to the village. A torrential downpour was now covering the entire place, with flashes of purple lightning. Fear gripped Shenhe's heart, and she clung to Shuyu, who wept as well. "The Japanese devils are here!"

"No, that is simply Ganyu, dealing with the remaining bandits. She must have rescued any other survivors," Cloud Retainer said, helping Shenhe and Shuyu to their feet. A few moments later, what looked like a white puffy cloud with horns flew down from the village and landed, before transforming into an adorable pudgy child of no more than five or six.

"Mommy, there was nobody left but the bad men," the little girl said with a sad shake of her head. She too wore a gown, though hers was black with purple lighting bolts worked into it.

"Ah. I see." Cloud Retainer turned to look at Shenhe and Shuyu, pain washing over her for a moment. Then she schooled it back to gentle sympathy. "It seems that your parents… your families…"

"They're dead," Shenhe said flatly. "We saw some of the bodies. The bandits killed everyone they didn't rape. Then they killed them too. We barely escaped, my mother gave her life to buy us time."

Little Ganyu started to cry, sitting down on the muddy bank of the rice paddy. "W-we were too late! W-we came as fast as we could, b-but we couldn't-"

"Hush, child. It is well. Think not of the lives we did not save, but the ones we did," Cloud Retainer said gently, patting Ganyu on the head. There were two dark horns poking up from the girl's lilac hair, which was rather odd.

Ganyu sniffled and nodded, but tears still leaked down her face.

"Show your manners, Ganyu. Introduce yourself to the mortal children," Cloud Retainer said gently, as if to distract the little girl.

Hiccuping, Ganyu looked up and managed a weak smile. "H-hello. I'm Ganyu. I'm a chillin. Um, I'm a quillan. Ah… I'm a thunder spirit."

"That is not quite right, a qilin is born they say to herald the arrival of a great sage," Cloud Retainer said in a lecturing tone. "You simply happen to have an Electro Vision."

"Are… are you Japanese?" Shenhe asked, feeling a pang of fear. If she had one of those purple Visions, like the Demon Queen Raiden herself…

"No, um, I think I'm Chinese. I was born here in the mountains, um… how long ago, mommy?" Ganyu asked curiously.

"One is not certain. One found you in one's nest after one's… after… after there were no longer hatchlings to care for some time ago, but it was before one was able to reckon time as mortals do, for one was but a bird still," Cloud Retainer said with a shrug. "Still, one received one's own totem not long after, so one supposes your age is no more than a season or two."

"Are you a sage?" Shuyu asked Cloud Retainer.

The crane woman laughed. "One does not claim such lofty titles. One is but a lonely bird with an empty nest, whose mate and hatchlings… well. Who nests alone, now. One has a most comfortable abode no more than a day's flight from here. Would you young mortals like to see it?"

Shenhe glanced back at the village, which had mostly disappeared under the rather localized thunderstorm. There was nothing but charred ruins there now. "Are there men with guns there?"

Cloud Retainer's expression grew grim. "No, child. There are no men with guns there. Nor for a day's flight in any direction. One has made most certain of this."

"No bad guys," Ganyu agreed with a firm nod.

"Yes!" Shuyu said, trying to stand on wobbly legs. She cried out, her ankle giving way.

"Ah! One forgot you are hurt," Cloud Retainer said, scooping the muck-covered girl into her arms. "Here. Let one bind your wound and soothe it."

Cloud Retainer proceeded to rip strips of cloth from her own gown, then used it to bind Shuyu's angle, before muttering something and passing her hand over it. Shuyu sighed as green winds seeped into the wound. "Thank you…"

"It is nothing," Cloud Retainer said, but she looked rather satisfied. "Come, let us away. Ganyu, can you carry the smaller of the mortal children?"

"Uh huh," Ganyu said, looking up from the flower she'd been eating. She swallowed the blossoms, which was rather odd to see, then stood up. A moment later, a large fluffy white cloud stood there, only now Shenhe could see the horns and hooves that marked it as a qilin.

"Climb on," Cloud Retainer instructed, helping Shuyu aboard.

"So fluffy!" Shuyu giggled, and hugged Ganyu's neck.

"Come, child. I shall bear you."

Shenhe turned to see the giant crane again, sitting on the ground. Reluctantly, Shenhe clambered aboard the bird's back, wrapping her arms gingerly around the thin neck.

"Let us return to our nest," Cloud Retainer said, then with a burst of wind, lept up into the sky. Ganyu and Shuyu followed them, and for a few minutes, Shenhe forgot her fear, grief, and pain, and was a young girl again, laughing and shouting for joy as they soared through the skies. She'd never been flying before, had never even ridden in a car. To see the world pass below them was sheer joy as they flew over the mountaintops and away from the village.

After the initial euphoria wore off, Shenhe found her eyes becoming heavy and yawns stretching her jaw.

"Rest now, child. One will not let you fall," Cloud Retainer said. "Oh! Where are one's manners?"

"Huh?" Shenhe asked sleepily, her head falling onto the downy feathers of Cloud Retainer's back.

"What is your name, young one?"

"Shenhe."

"Shenhe. It is a good name. Sleep now, child. You are safe now."

Even if she hadn't been safe, Shenhe didn't think she could have stayed away if she'd wanted to. She drifted off to sleep as she soared through the heavens, free and safe at last.

Interlude 8: In The Shadow of Giants

Clutching her small suitcase tightly, Ling kept her eyes on the scuffed linoleum floor of the interview room as she and her father sat tensely, waiting. There wasn't much in the suitcase: two changes of clothes, a photo album, and the wooden spoon her grandmother had given her. That along with what was in her backpack, toiletries, a jacket, an apron, and extra socks and underwear, was all the worldly possessions she had left.

"We already have the visas, what's taking so long," her father muttered nervously running his hands through his graying hair. He'd aged so much in the last year, while Ling and her family desperately tried to get out of Guangxi.

Her mother hadn't made it. She'd caught one of the many illnesses raging through the city before they'd managed to escape to Vietnam. If they'd had antibiotics, or even just clean water, she might have made it. As it was, she'd died of a fever and bloody flux, like so many thousands of others had.

Now, it was just Ling and her father. They'd left everything behind, including their large house, their restaurants, and Ling's favorite set of knives. But they had their lives, and that was enough for now.

The door opened, and a bored looking official called, "Monsieur Mao and Mademoiselle Mao."

Ling hastily stood up, holding tight to her briefcase, nodding along with her father. "Yes, that's us!" she said in her very best French.

The official grimaced, then stepped inside. "So, you can speak French at least, even if your accent is horrible."

That hurt, but Ling didn't protest. She'd studied French her entire life, taught by the best of tutors from France itself. She did have an accent, but not much of one.

Dressed in a cheap suit, the official slumped in the chair across from Ling and her father, paging through a clipboard. He looked up at them and sneered. "Sit down. I don't want you hovering over me."

"Of course, our apologies," Ling's father said in perfect Parisian French as they sat. He'd trained in the great kitchens of Paris as a young man, and had helped Ling with her studies. He had been the best chef in all of China, owning his own chain of restaurants that had locations in a dozen cities in China.

Now they were just another pair of destitute refugees.

"Hmm. Chinese passports. These are no good. You should never have gotten Visas," the official said, pointing to their CUI passport books.

Ling's heart flew up into her throat, but she hastily dug in her backpack for her new passport, as her father produced his Vietnamese one. It had cost nearly all of what money they'd had left to buy the passports and Visas from the Vietnamese government, and taken every last contact her father had. They had barely made it through the border at all: Vietnam was swarmed with refugees from China, and only their previous wealth and status had allowed Ling and her father to bribe their way through.

The official glanced at the Vietnamese passports, then opened them up. Inside were carefully folded up francs, 500 in total. It was almost the absolute last of their money. Ling and her father both had some francs carefully sewn into their clothing, but barely enough to survive for more than a few days.

"Well, these seem to be in order," the official said, plucking out the money. He leered at Ling, who forced herself to smile back. "You're a pretty one. If you need work, I might be able to introduce you to someone who has use for girls like you. Might make things easier for you."

"We've already secured employment. My brother owns a restaurant, here in Paris," her father said firmly, his voice barely restrained from rage. This wasn't the first time someone had implied, or even outright said, things would go easier if Ling spread her legs. She'd avoided it, but a lot of women in her situation hadn't.

"Tch, Chinese food? What a waste, we have proper food here in France," the official sneered. But he stamped their passports, and passed them back. "Welcome to France. See that you follow the law."

Gratefully, Ling took her passport and hurried out. One last security screening, where she was patted down far more roughly than was necessary, and then she saw a blessedly familiar anxious face waiting for them. "Yu! Yu!" Ling called, waving anxiously at her cousin.

"Xiangling! Uncle Mao!" Yu called, waving anxiously for them. She was dressed in ordinary looking clothes, her dark hair pulled back with a plastic hair ornament, but what Ling noticed was that while Yu looked worried, she didn't have that haggard, haunted look so many of their fellow Chinese did these days.

When the two cousins met, Ling wrapped her arms around Yu as tightly as she could, fighting back tears. At last, after nearly two years of fear and terror, it was over.

"It's OK, you're safe now," Yu whispered, her own tears wet on Ling's shoulder. They laughed and separated, and Yu embraced Ling's father as well. "It's so good to see you, Uncle Mao. I… I'm so sorry, when I heard what happened to Aunty…"

"Thank you," her father said gruffly, wiping tears from his own eyes. "And how is my brother and your mother?"

Yu's expression fell, and she looked like she was fighting back tears herself. Ling felt a dawning sense of horror. "Yu, what happened?"

"It's… come on. It's been four months. I just… I didn't want to tell you," Yu sniffed, picking up Ling's bag. "You had enough to worry about."

"Yu! What happened!?" Ling asked, desperately grabbing her cousin's arm.

"It… it was just a car crash. A drunk driver," Yu said, sounding utterly exhausted. "Come on. This is supposed to be a happy day."

With that ominous news, Ling trudged her way after Yu through the crowds at Charles De Gaulle Airport. She'd been here before, of course, but that had been ten years ago, before Leviathan, before the world had gone completely to hell. Now she could see not just heavily armed French Soldiers, but also uniformed capes patrolling the airport. They got stopped twice, but Yu talked their way out of the first one, and the second time gave the soldiers some francs before they were taken to a holding cell.

"We didn't have to bribe anyone the first time I was here," Ling said dejectedly.

"That was before the new government in 1998," Yu said quietly. "The year the Blasphemies killed the President and his entire cabinet. Then they nearly burned Paris to the ground from the riots. It was bad. Still is. But there is order now, and we escaped the fascists."

"I had heard it was bad, even in France, but… you haven't even been attacked by an Endbringer, or an Archon," Mao pointed out.

"Barbatos is friendly, mostly. I've got some of his CDs, they're good," Yu said as they hurried into the subway station.

Ling noted they were getting a lot of nasty looks from the others waiting on the platform, and hastily switched to French from Cantonese. "I didn't think The Tone Deaf Bards would be popular in France. Aren't they German?"

"They are, but they won Eurovision, and they've been very popular since, even if they are German," Yu explained. "Besides, Barbatos seems to have promised to protect France as well."

"We don't need the fucking Germans, France is strong on her own!" a young man with a number of tattoos and piercings said, glaring at Yu.

"I would prefer to live without Archons or Endbringers," Mao said firmly, clearly trying to agree with the man, but that just earned some more angry mutters.

"Archons?" the man spat towards Ling, who had to step quickly to avoid it. "That for those so-called Archons! Barbatos is a drunk, the Shogun is a monster, and that little girl in the Middle East is the puppet of a butcher!"

The part about the Shogun, Ling could only agree with, and she had heard that Barbados was utterly terrifying. As for Nahida, she didn't know much, aside from that the girl had apparently fought the Simurgh, then caused a popular uprising. It was hard to care, really. To her, Archons were just a terrifying new kind of cape, or maybe just a humanoid Endbringer. The Shogun had certainly devastated China with her war, Barbatos had nearly caused a civil war in Germany, and Nahida had actually overthrown the government in her home nation.

That made Ling very, very grateful there were no Archons in France. Let the monsters fight it out in other nations. Ling just wanted to be left alone in peace.

The subway had more graffiti on it than Ling remembered on her last trip, and it was much dirtier too. The people looked generally miserable as well, though to Ling they also looked fatter and far less panicked and harried than anyone in China currently felt. The horror stories that Ling had heard from other refugees had been enough to dampen even her normally cheery attitude, and then her mother had died. It was hard to stay upbeat when the world was falling apart around you.

After a long ride and several train switches, and several looks and touches by French men that were sadly all too common in crowded subways, they at last arrived at their destination. Yu led them up several flights of stairs and across several streets, through a section of the city that looked rundown to Ling, who commented as much to Yu.

"This is actually the nicer part. There's just not as much money for road maintenance, or general upkeep. The city is still recovering from all the riots, and with cape battles every week, the Mousquetaires and the Gendarmerie don't have as much time for low level crime. Combine that with all the cheap drugs that are going around, and it's bad. Not as bad as it was before the Gesellschaft was put down, but bad," Yu told them.

"They were a problem here? I thought they were German," Ling's father commented, still speaking in French. They were getting enough disgusted looks for looking Chinese. Sounding it too seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"They were, but they supported the Nouveau Parti Populaire Français, which was a fascist group. If Barbatos did one good thing, it was rooting them out. They collapsed shortly after the Concert of Munich," Yu explained.

"An Archon, doing good? Must have been an accident," Ling's father commented with a snort.

Yu shrugged. "He's not the Shogun. Here, this is the restaurant."

Seeing the boarded-up windows, Ling's heart sank. The sign was dark, and there was a notice that the building was closed. Yu led them inside, where dusty chairs were set atop dustier tables, and drooping decorations moldered. There was broken glass near one of the windows, with a brick still there. Ling stepped over and unfolded it to find a caricature of a Chinese man with bucked teeth and squinty eyes and "FOREIGNERS GO HOME" on it.

"That's been there for a month. I called the police, but they just came and told me to board up my windows," Yu said bitterly. "Why should they care about me? I'm only half French."

Ling felt exhausted, but looked at her father, who seemed ready to drop dead. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile on her face. "Well, we're here now! So why don't we make dinner like a family, like we used to?"

"There are leftovers upstairs, and I've made up my parents' old room for you, Uncle Mao. Ling, you and I will have to share my room," Yu said tiredly. "I'm sure you're tired from traveling."

Ling's father nodded his acceptance, and they all trooped up the back way to the apartments above. Dinner was warmed up onion soup from a restaurant with fresh bread and some fruit. It was good food, if not the best, and Ling actually felt reasonably safe for the first time in… well, since the news that Raiden had declared war. Curse those fools in the Yangban who had ever thought they could take the tiger by the tail.

Once the meal was over and the dishes cleared away, Ling took Yu's hands in hers. "Yu… tell us… what happened to your parents?"

Tears spilled out of Yu's eyes, and she tried to compose herself, scrubbing at her face. "It was just so sudden and random. Father and mother were just out for a walk. I was at a rehearsal, for a role that I thought I might actually get, a good one. Then… then I got a phone call from the police. They'd been killed in a hit-and-run by a drunk driver. They caught the driver, he's in jail, but… but they're just gone. I… I closed the restaurant. There was an insurance payout, but I was never that good of a cook, and I just couldn't…"

Yu broke down completely, and Ling wrapped her cousin in a tight hug. "It's OK. I understand. Let it out. Let it all out."

Ling looked at her father, hot tears trickling down his own face as he sat there like a lump, totally devoid of any passion. She knew what he was thinking: What was the point? His wife was dead, his brother was dead, and the restaurant was dead. They'd kept themselves going talking about the dishes they'd create, the crowds they'd draw, and the food they'd make together as a family. Like they used to.

That night, Ling lay in bed with Yu, her cousin snoring softly as she stared up at the ceiling, the noise of the city spilling in even through the closed window. She shivered against the chill fall air. Was this it? Was this where it all ended? She could get a job as a chef: she was very good, always had been. Even if she was Chinese, she could become at least a line cook, though she knew enough to be a sous chef or even a head chef at a good restaurant.

She clenched her fists. No. Cooking was her life. Her passion. She was in Paris. Paris! The food capital of the world! Damn the Archons and Endbringers, there was work to be done, and food to make here!

By the time dawn came, Ling had cleaned up the entire kitchen. She didn't bother with the front end of the restaurant yet, that wasn't the point. She had found a market that was open early and purchased what she needed. She still had to get some rather novel ingredients, as proper Chinese food needed things that were rare in Paris, but she knew once she got some contacts she could find it.

And so, Ling did what she did best: she cooked. The kitchen was a good one, even if it had been disused for long months, and all the right tools were there. There wasn't a name for the recipe she created, not yet, but it was a fusion of her two greatest loves: Traditional Cantonese cooking, and French haute cuisine. She took her creation upstairs, and waited.

She didn't have to wait too long: her father was the first to stumble out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed, but clearly intrigued. "Something smells good. Where did you…?"

"I made it myself!" Ling said proudly, gesturing to the table. "The kitchen still works! The ingredients weren't too expensive either, try some!"

"I… suppose so," her father agreed, and sat down to sample some of the dishes.

Yu was up next, coming in and blinking in surprise. "Uncle Mao, did you make all this?"

"It was Xiangling," her father said. "Yu, please, you have to try some of this!"

Her cousin sat, trying a bit of one of the egg dishes, then smiled in approval. "This is good! What do you call it?"

"I haven't come up with a name yet, but 100 Eggs in Red Wine Sauce is a good start!" Ling said happily, serving up some herself. "It's good, isn't it?"

They managed to eat and laugh together, sharing stories from days gone by of both Ling's mother and her uncle and aunt, who had met in Paris. Yu's full name was Julie Mao Yu, though the French official hadn't seemed to understand Mao was supposed to be her surname, and they'd never gotten it changed. She'd been born in China, but had French Citizenship and was a huge reason why Ling and her father had been able to emigrate.

Once breakfast was over, Ling took her father and Yu's hands in hers. "I know it looks bad now. We've lost so much to get to where we are now. But we can't give up. We're the Mao family! We cook! We can clean up the restaurant, and have a grand reopening in Uncle and Aunty's honor. We make new dishes and old ones, and we show Paris just how incredible Cantonese cooking can be! Maybe we'll never be rich and famous, but people can come to our restaurant for the best meal of their life! What do you say?"

"I was never much of a cook," Yu said, blushing. "But… I'm not much of an actress either. I suppose we can give it a try."

"You're a great actress! I know that once we get the restaurant up and running, the roles will just pour in for you!" Ling said. She knew it wasn't logical, but right now what they needed was passion and optimism, not logic and defeatist attitudes.

"It's what Yanxiao and Maria would have wanted. And your mother, too," her father said, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "Yes. Let's do it."

"Then this marks the grand reopening of Wanmin Restaurant!" Ling declared triumphantly, pulling her family to their feet. She led them down the stairs, then they got to work cleaning.

This was what Ling was meant to do. No Archons, no Endbringers, no capes. Just her and her family, doing what they were made to do: Cook.

As her passion burned, Ling felt a faint echo. As if there was something that wasn't there yet, but would be, one day. She dismissed it as the hollow feeling she got when she dwelled on everything she had lost, and threw herself into her work with reckless abandon, thinking only of new recipes and the cooking she'd do.

Her passion burned bright, and one day, it would be recognized.

"Dad, there's something weird in the pasture."

Nick Campbell looked up from the truck he was repairing and frowned at his middle son. Sean was thirteen, and while he could be a hard worker, he was also a daydreamer who got distracted easily. Wiping his hands on his grease rag, he turned to Sean and frowned.

"What do you mean, something weird in the pasture?"

Sean shrugged helplessly. "Something's bothering the sheep, and one's dead. There's this weird plant there, and I had to fight off another slime. I killed it, but I never seen a slime kill a sheep before."

Nick grunted and looked up at the late afternoon sky. It was December 22nd, the longest day of the year. It had been 25C, not intolerably hot, but warm for Te Kuiti, New Zealand. "Killed sheep aren't somethin' weird. You should have led with that. Let me get my gun. Probably a dog."

After getting his rifle, Nick and Sean loaded up on a pair of quads and rode out to the south pasture, where the sheep were all huddled up near the gate and bleating worriedly. That was unusual, and bad. It was already getting dark, and Nick was worried about the animals.

A short time later, Sean led his father to the remains of a dead sheep, illuminating it with his headlights. There wasn't as much of a gory mess as Nick thought there would be, and no sign of a dog attack. What there was were several bulbous green growths latched on to the carcass, like some sort of weird plant growing out of the remains.

"That wasn't so big before," Sean commented, pointing to the growths. "They were smaller. And I think there were only three. Now there's four."

"Hmm," Nick commented. He got his gun out, checked it one more time, then said, "Stay back, and get ready."

Then he blasted one of the bulbs from 20 meters away. Nick was a good shot, having had plenty of experience in his years as a sheep rancher, and he hit the bulb about dead center. The thing didn't explode, but it did fall off the carcass and spray a green ichor everywhere, which was satisfying.

What wasn't so satisfying was when the other three bulbs opened an eye, then floated up into the air.

"Oh fuck me," Nick growled, and worked the action on his rifle. He fired at a second bulb, which was knocked out of the air with another spray of green goo. Unfortunately, the other two released a puff of spores of some sort, then fired off bolts of green energy.

"SEAN, GO!" Nick ordered, diving out of the way. His son fortunately didn't argue, gunning the engine on his quad and racing off across the pasture.

Nick wasn't a combat veteran by any means, nor had he ever hunted anything more dangerous than a feral cow or pig. They could be a lot more deadly than people thought, but at the same time, they were just animals, and not particularly aggressive ones. Whatever the hell these things were, they kept after Nick, loosing more spores and firing more green bolts.

Swearing loudly, Nick fired another shot, but this one went wild. He managed to scramble back on his quad and race away, only stopping when he caught up with Sean, who was doing the right thing and getting the sheep out of the paddock and into another pasture.

"Dad, I recognize those things. We saw a video in school. They're specters. Green ones," Sean told his father.

"Specters? They some sort of cape abomination?" Nick asked, looking behind him. No sign of the whatever they weres, but his heart was still pounding. He was too old for this shit.

"Don't know. Showed up first in Japan, then in Germany. Don't really know why the fuckers are here now though," Sean said with a shrug.

Nick grunted, and thought fast. "Go call the police, and get your brothers. Fort up at the house with your mother and your little sister. Keep your guns handy."

Sean nodded, looking pale. "And what'll you do?"

"Bastards killed my sheep," Nick growled. "And bullets kill them. I'll sort this lot out, but you call the police anyway."

Nick nodded hastily, then they got the rest of the sheep to another pasture, where the panicky animals quickly ran away to the far side.

Then Nick hugged Sean, told the boy gruffly he loved him, and picked up his gun and stalked back to the South Pasture. He was a rancher, and those were his sheep. There was going to be hell to pay.

The specters, if that's what they were, were now hovering about the area, lazily circling the sheep carcass. Nick took his time circling around them, making sure that there wasn't anything else, or more of them. It looked like it was just the two left. They didn't seem to care about his flashlight, ignoring the beam as Nick played it back and forth over the monsters.

So, slowly, calmly, Nick drew a bead on the first one. Then he blew it out of the sky. He was just drawing a bead on the second one when something hit him like a wave, and nearly knocked him off his feet.

NO!

Staggering, Nick looked around wildly. What the fuck had that been? He barely dodged out of the way of another green bolt, then forced himself to calm and lined up the shot. He blew the last specter out of the sky. Then he looked around the pasture, and scratched his head. He shivered, wondering why the temperature was dropping so fast. It should have been a warm night.

Then he felt something cold and wet land on the back of his neck. Puzzled, Nick reached around. Rain? There wasn't any rain in the forecast. He played his flashlight around, and his heart nearly stopped. It wasn't raining.

It was snowing. On the first day of Summer. He'd seen weird weather before, but this…had it been the specters?

By the time Nick got back to the gate, it was practically a blizzard as the cold wind bit at him and snow pelted down. Drifts of the stuff were piling up, and Nick was shivering fiercely. He was panicking about his sheep now: they had been sheared just a few weeks ago to prepare for the summer heat, and this cold could kill them. He was just getting ready to try to herd them to the barn when a police car pulled up, and Officer Ataahua stepped out.

"Nick, you alright? They said there were monsters here."

"Killed the monster, then it started snowing!" Nick called. "Where did this come from?"

"Don't know, but I don't think it was your monsters that did it, sounded like Dendro Specters from what Sean told me at your place," Ataahua said. "We need to-"

There was a sound like a rushing freight train, and then both Nick and Officer Ataahua were knocked clean off their feet as the earth trembled and heaved as if in labor pains. The shaking went on for half a terrifying minute that felt like an eternity. Not too far away, the sheep bleated in panic, and Nick heard a horrible grinding noise. When he staggered to his feet, his flashlight showed that half his flock disappeared into a deep crevice that had opened in the middle of his pasture.

"It's the end of the goddamn world," Nick breathed, as the snow came down ever harder. He turned, expecting to see Ataahua dead or worse, but instead he watched as a cluster of snow formed together in a pale blue crystal that fell into the policeman's hands.

"Get back to your family," Ataahua said, his tribal tattoos standing out on his face as they began to glow with a cold blue light. "This is a dark night. But someone has to defend the people of this town. Leave the sheep."

"But-"

"Leave the sheep, Campbell! What's more important, your animals or your family?" Ataahua barked, pulling his shotgun out of the boot of his car.

Swallowing, Nick nodded, then ran back to his quad as the snow continued to swirl. He said a profanity laced prayer, as so many did around the world. Across the globe, as skies froze and the earth raged, the people cried out for love.

But the one who heard them had naught but a Heart of Ice.

Elogia Cinerosa

Next: Comoedia Glacialis 1

Author's Note:

TL;DR, the Cake is a Lie, you get a Villainess, not Water Jesus because Three Act Structure.

So, I know a lot of you were expecting Furina. In my original notes, this is where Furina entered stage right. However, as time went on, I increasingly realized Furina wouldn't work. This isn't her fault, really. I had initially thought we'd get a Marie Antoinette type character who was a tyrant and a fool, and the story would be about liberating Fontaine from her reign of injustice.

How wrong I was. Furina is, to be blunt, Water Jesus. There is absolutely not a single drop of malice in her body, and she's both precious, and adorable, and I feel extremely bad for what I'm going to do to her in the story.

That said, it left me with a distinct problem: I needed a villain. I needed someone to come to Earth Bet at the start of Act 2 and make things worse. In a three act structure, Act 1 is where your good guys get an initial victory. In this story, that's the Archons pushing back against Scion and Cauldron's evil schemes, and bringing more joy and brightness to the world. There are bumps along the way, but things are getting much, much better for everyone. Two Endbringers are dead, and three Archons are planning to save the world.

That's Act 1 though, and that came to an end with Nahida. While something this big and sprawling doesn't slavishly adhere to the Three Act Structure, such a framework is still very important from a storytelling perspective. And so, I need someone to come in during Act II and undo a lot of the progress that has been made, while creating a large number of new problems that shakes up the status quo. Because that's good story telling: things get boring if the good guys just have a steady progression of mostly unmitigated victories (poor China aside).

Thus, I could not have the mid point Archon be selfless, noble Furina, who would willingly die for the sins of France, or the world in general, with a smile on her face and a wink at the audience. No, I needed a story book villain. An icy queen with a frozen heart, an army of terrifying faceless minions, and a squad of deadly minibosses who are each in and of themselves enough to check even an Archon.

So, instead, we get the Tsaritsa. This does present some problems. We do know a lot about the Tsaritsa, more than any other Archon before their region debuts. But her own debut is a good 15-16 months away, and you can tack on another 4-5 months after that to resolve most of her region's plot lines and we actually learn what makes her tick.

So, I'm going to be making up Dantilion from whole cloth. I gave myself an out, as Nahida mentioned, she knows of the canon Tsaritsa, who is not Dantilion, the character this fic uses. This is a multiverse story, so there are alternate versions. I know this will still be disappointing to many, and a huge departure from what's happened up to this point.

Still, I hope you all enjoy as we head into the Frozen North, and the Reign of the Tsaritsa begins.

GLORY TO SNEZHNAYA! GLORY TO OUR ETERNAL QUEEN! GLORY, TO THE TSARITSA!

October: Yeah… woo… whatever… I'm disappointed, Paragon! You promised me my favorite Archon, ma jolie, and then you pulled the rug out from under me for just another Bronya! How dare!

Cog: Come to the story for the cute gods and the villain butt-kicking, stay for the political worldbuilding!

Stained glass window from Our Lady of the Frozen Heart Cathedral, New Moscow, cira 2008

PRT Threat Assessment: The Tsaritsa

Name: Bronya Cocolionva Snezhnaya

Title: Empress of All The Russias

Aliases: The Tsaritsa, God of Love, Cryo Archon

Archon Name: Dantalion

Disposition: World Leader

Location: The Ice Palace, New Moscow

Origins: Confirmed Alien Origins

General Information: On December 21st, 2003, at 15:32 Moscow time, the exact moment of the Winter Solstice, the Scream was heard around the world. Every living sentient being on Earth reported hearing a single, agonized word: No. Immediately, the global temperature plummeted and snow was seen globally, including in equatorial regions that had never previously received any.

This was the world's introduction to the woman who would become the Tsaritsa.

Shortly thereafter, in the irradiated ruins of Moscow, Scion battled the Tsaritsa. The conflict lasted for approximately one day, during which time blizzards raged globally, along with multiple other significant natural disasters such as hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, wildfires, and lightning storms. Upon the resolution of the battle, these natural disasters came to an abrupt end. The Tsaritsa had been defeated, but Scion was not seen for several months as he presumably recovered from serious injuries. When he reemerged, he was not the same, but this is not his threat assessment.

At the same time, Cryo Visions began to appear globally, tied to the appearance of the Cryo Archon. While it was painfully obvious where the Cryo Archon was, Protectorate teams were unable to operate in the region for some time and were unable to locate the Tsaritsa. This is because she had already been found by a Russian oligarch by the name of Anatoly Komissarov, and smuggled out of Moscow to his headquarters in Saint Petersburg.

Our limited information indicates that the Tsaritsa did not awaken for three days, and for a week after that, she was a mute if beautiful young woman. Knowing that she was likely an extremely powerful individual, though not the full extent of things, Anatoly had his sister Anastasia Komissarov tend to the Tsaritsa.

They would become the first of the Fatui, and are now known as The Thief and The Dancer.

Ten days after her battle with Scion, the Tsaritsa began her conquest of Russia. She started with Anatoly and his organizations, which included several powerful legitimate companies, as well as a large group of mercenaries and criminals. Within a month, she had forged them into an army. She did not yet attempt to overthrow the government of Saint Petersburg, which contained the largest remnant of the former Soviet Government.

Instead, she turned towards Mordovia, and Sleeper. Not long after, the Sleeper awoke, and became The Prince, also known as the Nutcracker. First of the Fatui Harbingers.

The next few months were a series of victories for the Tsaritsa, now officially declaring herself as the Empress of All The Russias and taking the double headed imperial eagle as her sigil, save that now it was white, with the Cryo Sigil on its chest. She defeated any petty warlords that dared to resist her, cowed the Red Gauntlet and absorbed most of its members, and of course, took on the Twins and lived, saving Saint Petersburg in the process.

After spending more than a year subduing Russia, the Tsaritsa next turned her gaze westward. Her campaign against Ukraine was swift, brutal, and extremely one sided. It is likely she would have driven her forces to the German border and beyond, if not for The Great Storm. In a three day titanic struggle, Venti Luft and the Knights of Favonius leading a coalition of European Union forces managed to turn back the Tsaritsa and prevent the conquest of Poland and Finland.

Unfortunately, most of the Baltic states fell. Unsatisfied with this, the Tsaritsa next attacked south, taking Kazakhstan and invading Uzbekistan before facing Farasha and Flower Dragon in combat. This time, she prevailed, but took losses heavy enough that she could not continue on to pursue forces into Turkmenistan.

At this point, the Raiden Shogunate and its allied nations declared war, and invaded the Kuril Islands. Apparently, facing the Raiden Shogun and her forces in battle was too much, and the Tsarisa reluctantly sued for peace, withdrawing from most of Ukraine and Uzbekistan while also ceding the Kuril Islands to Raiden.

The Protectorate was active in fighting the Tsaritsa during this time, with Eidolon leading the charge against her. He faced her several times, alongside both Venti and Farasha. He was ultimately pushed back, but he was also infected by her Master powers. It had been thought he was resistant, but then came the Stroke of Midnight.

We will not go into full details here, but during the Stroke of Midnight, Eidolon and more than twenty protectorate capes defected to the Tsaritsa, along with dozens of prisoners that Eidolon freed. Shortly thereafter, the Rat King took his place as the Third of the Fatui Harbingers.

Because of this, the Tsaritsa has been designated as the first X-Class, or Extermination Class, Threat.

While she no longer leads armies into the field, the Tsaritsa and her forces continue to be a global problem and are considered an active and hostile threat. Imperial Russia commands some of the most powerful capes in the entire world, as well as numerous powerful forces. The Fatui in particular are a major threat, as the Tsaritsa has demonstrated the ability to grant powers to individuals through the use of Delusions. Because of this, Imperial Russia has the largest Parahuman population of any nation.

The Fatui conduct numerous black ops missions, even on Protectorate soil, such as when they recruited Bonesaw, now known as Polichinelles, from the Slaughterhouse Nine. Their fanatical loyalty to the Tsaritsa and her Church of the Frozen Heart is legendary, and each Harbinger is to be considered an S Class threat as an individual. Collectively, they can be considered to be an X Class threat, on the same level as an Archon.

Personality: The Tsaritsa presents many faces to the world. To the Russian people, she is a loving and devoted motherly figure who cherishes her children and would do anything to protect them. To the Fatui, she is a stern and forbidding figure of reverence, leading them into battle and devouring the minds of her foes. To the international community, she is the Ice Queen, a figure shrouded in myth and rumor who leads the newly arisen Evil Empire from a throne of ice and blood.

To the Protectorate, she is our greatest opponent, and a harsh reminder that we must be ever vigilant, and even the mightiest of us can fall if we let ourselves become too proud.

Classification: Brute 7, Mover 3, Shaker 14, Thinker 5, Striker 7, Master 15, Tinker 12

Brute 7: Though she looks like a delicate waif, the Tsaritsa exchanged blows with Scion and the Twins and lived to tell the tale. The fact that Scion and other Archons represent the only real defeats she has ever suffered should be sufficient to convince anyone that she is far more durable than she appears. She seems to have a body made of incredibly dense crystal-like ice, and only the strongest of attacks can even slow her down. She's also far stronger than she looks, showing multi-ton strength feats casually, though she is not in the same category as dedicated Brute capes.

Mover 3: The Tsaritsa is fast, and has shown that she can hover and fly short distances on wings of ice. How fast she is exactly is difficult to ascertain, but she can keep pace with a speeding car and dodge attacks from low end speedsters. This may be her lowest rating, but make no mistake: she's faster than she looks, and probably faster than you think she is.

Shaker 14: The blizzards that accompanied The Scream and the global drop in temperatures showcased that the Tsaritsa has power projection abilities beyond any save other Archons. The battle between herself and Barbados is known as The Storm for a reason: Hundreds of miles of completely flattened and frozen solid land, scoured of all life to this very day. We should be grateful that the Tsaritsa seems to have been cowed by Scion into not attempting to plunge the world into another ice age, because she clearly has the capability to do so.

Thinker 5: While the Tsaritsa likes to play the part of a delusional child wrapped up in a fantasy world, the truth is that she is a cunning and shrewd opponent who doesn't need her Master powers to wrap people around her fingers. Her conquest of Russia and subsequent war with most of the rest of the world, which she would have won without the other Archons stepping in, proves that her abilities as a commander and leader are beyond human. She is fallible though, as her ultimate defeat showed.

She's smart enough to know when to hold, and when to fold, and that makes her all the more dangerous.

Striker 7: The Tsaritsa can freeze solid any object at the sub atomic level, to the point that she can create an area of 0 kelvin, or -460 Fahrenheit. Also known as Absolute Zero. Very, very few capes have the ability to survive a blow from the Tsaritsa. Even those with invulnerability powers can be taken out by her strikes. She is prevented by a higher rating only in that she can do this only in a limited area around herself, and she isn't fast enough to simply blitz down most high end capes and freeze them solid.

Master 15: The level of threat that the Tsaritsa's Master powers represent cannot be overstated. She subverted the Russian Orthodox church to the extent that the Patriarch of the Church of the Frozen Heart was once the Patriarch of Moscow and all Rus. People who were her fierce foes have thrown themselves at her feet in adoration moments after meeting her and sworn lifelong loyalty that no amount of attempted de-conditioning can reverse. Those she converts are fanatically loyal to her to the point that they willingly throw themselves into certain death at a mere gesture from her.

If you or someone you know begins to have dreams of ice, or of a silver haired teenage girl dancing, or of a crystal throne, report yourself immediately to the nearest Protectorate station. There have been multiple documented and verified cases where the Tsaritsa "called" someone to her from thousands of miles away, whether Parahuman, Vision Holder, or civilian. If steps are taken early, the brainwashing can be counteracted, but once you give your heart to the Tsaritsa, there is no return.

Tinker 12: Debate rages as to just what sort of Tinker powers the Tsaritsa has, but one thing is absolutely certain: She can mass produce Delusions, which grant their bearers powers at the cost of insanity and a greatly reduced lifespan if the subject did not already have a secondary set of powers to counteract this. This alone would make her a substantial threat, beyond that of even someone like Teacher. As it stands, the Fatui are all armed with Delusions, and they willingly sacrifice their own lives and minds in service to their beloved Empress.

Any personnel who obtain a Delusion through whatever means should IMMEDIATELY report the finding to the Protectorate and turn the Delusion in. They are extremely dangerous, and must be carefully secured. Do not attempt to use the Delusion, no matter how tempting it may be. This is power at a terrible price.

Recommended Strategies: PRT personnel are to evacuate civilians and quarantine anyone who has been within a 1 mile radius of the Tsaritsa. They are to be considered Fatui sleeper agents if they have caught even a glimpse of the Tsaritsa, or she them. The same goes for Protectorate personnel. If they are suspected of having been exposed to the Tsaritsa, or begin having visions of ice or dreams of a silver haired woman, report them IMMEDIATELY.

The same is not true of Cryo Vision Holders. Somehow, while they are inexorably tied to the Tsaritsa, she does not have the ability to mentally influence Cryo Vision Holders. If anything, they are more resistant than most to her manipulations, and should be called upon to deal with quarantined personnel.

To be blunt: if you see the Tsaritsa, or are seen by the Tsaritsa, you are not likely to survive the experience with your mind intact. Avoid and evacuate civilians, or be prepared to enact Quarantine Level 5 protocols.

DELTA BLACK CLEARANCE REQUIRED TO VIEW

Asset Tyche: , how could you!? You were our friend, our greatest asset! Just tell me why!

: Why don't you ask your little toy that? Maybe it will give you an answer.

Asset Tyche: I did, ! But I still don't understand HOW. How could you go over to her side, to betray everything we've worked for!

: You think I betrayed you? Why do you think we're meeting like this?

Asset Tyche: My Path-

: is a delusion. Even more than the one she gave me. You have all been led astray, as I once was, by false prophets and false gods. No, we met because the Tsaritsa, in her Benevolence, foresaw this meeting, and sent me with a message.

Asset Tyche: I have nothing left to say to you. Traitor.

: I think you do. After all, do we not desire the same outcome? Her Eminence too wishes to end this charade. By whatever means necessary.

Asset Tyche: Why should I listen to a traitor? Why should we trust you, or that monster you serve now?

: Careful, little puppet. Or I may have to cut your strings. Do not besmirch the good name of the Tsaritsa in my presence. But to the point: Because I know you, and I know . You would do anything to slay the False God.

Asset Tyche: Why shouldn't we believe you're not working with You Know Who?

: Why don't you ask your little toy that, eh? You know we aren't. You know she nearly defeated him last time. This time…this time will be different. If you will simply…kneel. And embrace the Love of the Tsaritsa. It will be so much simpler.

Asset Tyche: I… I can't. No. We can't trade one monster for another. We'd trade his destruction for her chains. That's why she has to go. Why they ALL have to go.

: And what of ? You do not seem so eager to slay her. What was it you called her? Ah, yes. Our best Hope. Would you use her, then slay her, a mere child? Who is the monster now, I wonder?

Asset Tyche: That…that's not…she's different! We-

: Enough. You know where to find me. Here is my card. When the final Golden Morning comes… you will know where to find us. Until then…we must be foes. Farewell, .

Asset Tyche: …farewell. Rat King.

Comoedia Glacialis 1: The Queen Enters, Stage Left

Conjuring up a fireball, the Tsaritsa threw it with all her might at Lumine, snarling in rage.

"Don't you UNDERSTAND!? This is what I have worked towards for CENTURIES! You would undermine EVERYTHING!"

Lumine, silent as always, didn't respond as she dodged, then a wordless cry as she swung her glowing golden sword with all her might. It struck through her barrier of Geo, and Lumine sent a wave of her own Pyro energy at the Tsaritsa.

Screaming in pain, she was flung down to the cold, stony ground below her. She raised a hand to send forth more ice, but Lumine plunged out of the sky, her sword pointed directly at the Tsaritsa's heart, the winds of that treacherous Barbatos at her back. The Tsaritsa screamed, and-

Pain. Horrible pain. This was IMPOSSIBLE! She had all Seven of the Gnosi! She was all-powerful! She should have torn Celestia from Heaven itself, and instituted her new order! She screamed in pain and rage, a primal cry imbued with divine power, and a rejection of reality itself.

NO!

And then the pain fled entirely. Reality itself was torn asunder, and for a horrible moment, she saw clearly. Saw what a monster she had become. Saw that in her madness, she would have destroyed her beloved Snezhnaya itself. For one moment, she regretted everything.

And then she saw the face of her mother in her mind once more. Blood on her lips, her eyes dull and lifeless, as she wept and held the body of her only family in the cold snow where it had fallen after being cast down from heaven.

I will freeze the entire world to have my revenge. Her heart whispered, and froze solid once more.

When the haze cleared, she found herself amidst the ruins of a dead city. The ground here was lifeless and poisoned, the buildings frozen ruins and burned out husks, and there was barely a sign of life. Only the lower-order creatures persisted here; mortal men would be killed within hours if they lived here.

In numb horror, the Tsaritsa looked around. She did not recognize the place, but the deep connection she felt in her very essence told her where she was. Zapolyarny. Capital of Snezhnaya.

"No," she whispered again. Then a scream of anguish burst forth from her again, a wordless cry of agony and despair as she struck the earth.

WHAT HAVE YOU FOOLS DONE!? She screamed.

If she had been more lucid, or less exhausted from battle, she might have noticed the metallic husks of vehicles or the writing that persisted in some places that was in a tongue of men not found on Teyvat. Perhaps the Tsaritsa would have realized that this was not Zapolyarny, but another place to which she belonged.

But with the power of seven gnosi thundering in her veins and the trauma of her recent defeat hazing her mind, the Tsaritsa was not in an observant mood. Instead, she sent every bit of her pent up grief and rage into her gnosi, causing the very world itself to quake.

YOU WOULD DARE DESTROY MY SUBJECTS!? LET THE WORLD KNOW MY HEART, AND FREEZE SOLID!

Mere moments later, she sensed the approach of the one she both sought and feared.

SUSTAINER, the Tsaritsa hissed, turning towards the approach of Heaven's Enforcer. LET ME GIVE YOU A PROPER SNEZHNAYAN GREETING!

With that, she loosed terrible lightning and ignited the very air surrounding the Sustainer, clawing at them like an enraged beast even at a distance of a thousand miles. For a moment, the Sustainer's progress was halted, their advance stymied by the Tsaritsa's wrath.

Then, to her disgust, the Sustainer shrugged off the assault and approached once more. They were fast, faster than the Tsaritsa had expected, moving at speeds greater than even lightning.

Snarling in rage, the Tsaritsa sent waves of ice and howling gales at her foe to slow them, only for them to be slapped aside as though they were nothing. At the last moment, she drew a shield of Geo about herself, clumsily manipulating the alien energy through her stolen gnosis.

The blow from the Sustainer was enough to send the Tsaritsa crashing into the ground, where she impacted with such force that the reverberation was felt around the world. Still, that was not enough to destroy her, and she turned like a beast at bay, roaring her defiance as stood.

SUSTAINER! I WILL CAST YOU AND ALL OF CELESTIA DOWN TO EARTH, AS YOU ONCE DID MY MOTHER!

Through eyes of madness, she saw only what she thought to see: an imposing figure of gold with an aura of great power. She didn't notice that this Sustainer was male, not female, or that there was no divine spark in this being.

YOU SEEK TO DISRUPT THE CYCLE. The Sustainer replied, their voice booming through the Tsaritsa's mind. I AM THE WARRIOR. YOU WILL CEASE.

That made no sense to the Tsaritsa, but she was far past the point of caring about such things. Her rejoinder was to cast out lightning and detonate it with pyro in a massive overload reaction, but when she attempted to send out a wave of Dendro to complete the chain, nothing happened. Buer's gnosis was silent and dead. Enraged, the Tsartisa instead used Anemo to swirl both.

To her delight, this time, the reactions worked, shredding flesh from the Sustainer's body. They staggered back in mid-air, touching their burned and scarred face, where golden ichor dripped.

SO, IT SEEMS HEAVEN ITSELF CAN BLEED, the Tsaritsa crowed, as she forged a massive spear of Geo, and hurled it with all her might at the Sustainer.

To her horror, the spear shattered as the Sustainer sent out a wave of golden golden light. They rose above the Tsaritsa, and slowly, their dispassionate face shifted into a bloody grin.

THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE, the Sustainer decreed and sent out a similar golden wave at the Tsaritsa. She dodged out of the way on a gust of wind, and the impact rang the earth like a bell once more.

I WILL CAST YOU DOWN LIKE THE WORM YOU ARE! The Tsaritsa raged, and summoned a blizzard that crackled with lightning.

Let it all be swept away. For there was no Love left in her heart. Only power.

It was early in the evening when the Scream was heard and snow began to fall in Tokyo. That was unusual, but not unheard of, for it was late December and the first day of Winter.

What was unusual was the reaction of the Shogun and her dragons.

MOBILIZE THE SENTAI, Ei ordered, storming out of Euthymia in her Divine form, and causing all the human servants who saw her to fall to their knees in awe and terror. Her blade laid bare in her hands, and the sky crackled and roared with thunder. She opened a gateway to the skies above her city, and hovered up to several thousand feet, looking to the North and West.

DANTALION, Ei growled, as the blizzard raged about her. WHAT MADNESS IS THIS?

The Tsaritsa, however, was not listening to Ei, and only raging in pain and madness.

EI, WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Keiga and Mushu rose up beside Ei, both dragons having grown to well over 100 meters in length.

FOLLY, Ei responded, shaking her head in disgust. DANTALION DOES BATTLE WITH THE SUSTAINER.

Keiga let out a fluting note of anxiety as she looked about at the ice and snow raging around them. THE CRYO ARCHON? SHE FIGHTS SCION?

SO WHAT DO WE DO? DO WE GO TO AID HER? Mushu demanded, getting straight to the point.

For a moment, Ei could feel the future and Fate itself rested on a razor's edge. A part of her, a large part of her, wanted to summon her forces and go immediately to the field of battle, to fall upon the Sustainer while he was engaged and strike a decisive blow.

But she could sense only grief and madness from the newly arrived Dantalion. Along with something else: the fool had bitten into the poisoned apples of heaven. She was doomed to madness and death now.

I MUST CONSULT BUER AND BARBATOS. SEE THAT OUR FORCES ARE PREPARED, AND DRIVE OFF THE STORM, Ei commanded. She hesitated, then added, SHOULD AUGHT HAPPEN TO ME, TSUKUYOMI MUST LEAD YOU.

Then she cut a hole in reality, and stepped into the Dream. It was not something that she did often, and her method of entry was crude at best, but there was no time for niceties.

She found Buer standing atop the highest point of her own city, chanting a spell as great rings of life energy surrounded her. Around her, the Children of the Forest sang a dirge of dread, reinforcing the warding spell Buer wrought. It was a finely made thing, and Ei did not speak as Buer completed the ritual.

"This must be the Dantalion you spoke of," Buer said at last, her ward settling into place. Ei watched with approval as the blizzard was driven out of her lands, then frowned.

"That ward will not hold for long," she said, noting as the spell groaned under the weight of the Authority that the Tsaritsa brought to bear.

"It will not, but I am afraid to draw on the Dendro Gnosis, and to put more power into it would be dangerous," Buer said with a shake of her head. "Besides. She will fail before long, and the ward will not need to last more than a day."

"So soon?" Ei felt the echo of the battle, then grimaced. "I fear you are correct. And she seems to possess all the gnosi. If this is all that the combined might of the Seven can bring to bear… it does not bode well."

"Not all Seven," Buer said with a slow shake of her head. "She lacks mine. It seems that more than one gnosis cannot exist at the same time."

"Logical," Ei agreed. She frowned, turning as a gust of wind blew towards them. "Well, Barbatos?"

"This isn't good," the adorable little wind spirit said, shaking its little head. "Sorry, this is just a fragment of me. I'm trying to shield most of Europe from this, but it's bad. I was tempted for a moment to put an arrow in Scion's behind, but I think if I attracted her attention Dantalion would lash out at me too. She's gone completely mad."

"Even gods are not meant to hold such power," Buer agreed. "I know not the time and place Dantalion comes from, but she seems full of grief and sorrow. I wish we could help, but…"

Gritting her teeth, Ei nodded. "But I will not risk everything on a foolish, ill-conceived gamble."

"If this was Dantalion's plan, I find it sorely lacking," Barbatos agreed. "I'm being forced to try to protect my own lands from this early blizzard. Most of the crops are in, but people aren't ready for this, and they will suffer."

"I fear if she is not stopped soon, she will begin an Ice Age," Buer said worriedly. "I do not wish for her death, but…"

"But if one challenges Heaven, one must be prepared to meet death," Ei said grimly. She cut open another portal, turning her face towards her people. "I must attend to my own lands. But we must speak again when this settles. This changes much."

Then, Ei stepped forward into an uncertain future.

Another wave of golden power crashed against the Tsaritsa, and she screamed in pain and frustration. This was nothing like what she had prepared herself to face! Unable to fully harness the majority of the powers she had usurped, she lashed out with icy fury, trying to freeze the very essence of the Sustainer as they dueled in the skies above the desolate ruins.

While her most potent powers did scar and disrupt the Sustainer, to the point where they had lost an entire leg in the battle, they were not completely stymied. Worse, their attacks were growing ever more furious and deadly, while also becoming more refined and precise. It was as if the Sustainer had never before seen most of her powers, and was rapidly adapting as to how to combat them.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS TO HOLD THE CORPSE ONE YOU LOVE MOST IN YOUR ARMS, MONSTER?! The Tsaritsa howled, the image of Cocolia dead in her arms, body turning to ice before it faded away entirely. I SWORE ON THAT DAY YOU WOULD REGRET THE POWER YOU GAVE ME! NOW, I WRECK MY VENGEANCE!

The Sustainer had been mostly silent aside from their initial chastisement about the "cycle", but this seemed to take the Enforcer of Heaven aback slightly.

I AM… INCOMPLETE. THE THINKER PERISHED. BUT I HAVE FOUND A NEW ONE.

Thinker? That made no sense. Did they mean Samiel? That was nonsense. Celestia had been as much responsible for her death during the Cataclysm as anyone else.

NOTHING CAN BE ALLOWED TO DISRUPT THE CYCLE. THE GREAT WORK MUST CONTINUE.

This Sustainer seemed different from what the Tsaritsa remembered, but that didn't matter. Rage and grief were all she had left, and this was a suitable enough target.

YOUR GREAT WORK IS A SHAM! YOU ARE AN ALIEN WHO WOULD OPPRESS THESE LANDS WITH YOUR DICTATES, CLAIMING TO SHELTER WHEN YOU TRULY STIFLE ALL LOVE!

Concentrating all the might of the global storm she had conjured, the Tsaritsa encased the Sustainer in a mountain of ice, reinforced with Geo and bound together by Hydro. She grinned in triumph as the monster was swallowed up wholesale.

Then wailed in despair as the Sustainer shattered the million tons of ice and rock with a bellow of power.

Normally, even this time of year, Arizona was warm and sunny. The forecast had been for clear skies, with a daytime high of 62F, and an overnight low of 40F, well above freezing. That was why Alexandria had planned a rally at Bank One Ballpark in downtown Phoenix. She was still working on securing the Democratic nomination, though she did have it mostly locked down.

Still, it was never too early to start, and indicators were that with a little work, she could flip the traditionally red Republican state to Democrat blue during the actual election.

What she hadn't expected was that her early morning rally would be held amidst a snowstorm that had lasted for nearly a full day now, as earthquakes and tsunamis rocked the globe. Alexandria had considered canceling the rally and had even asked Contessa about it, but the Thinker was currently having a panic attack, curled up in a corner and stroking her Magic 8 Ball while muttering, "She's here." And that couldn't be good.

She'd had to make the call herself several hours ago, and Alexandria prayed she'd made the right one. Who, exactly, she was praying to, was up for debate. She'd been raised Catholic, and aside from an ever-present sense of guilt, didn't cling to that faith very hard.

"Mrs. Costa-Brown? We're ready for you."

"I told you before, unless you want me to call you Governor Dainson, it's just Rebecca," Alexandria said, turning around to smile at the man in front of her.

He was quite a bit older than her, with graying hair at his temples, though most of it was still blond. If Alexandria had been into older men, she'd have fallen for this silver fox, with his lantern jaw, broad shoulders, and winning smile. He was tall too, though he had a bit of a stoop to his shoulders from an injury sustained when his helicopter had been shot down during the Vietnam War.

"Well, in that case, you'll have to call me Leif," the Governor of Pennsylvania said with a warm chuckle. He reminded Alexandria of her abuelo, who'd been dead now for five years of a heart attack. Of course, unlike her grandfather, Leif Dainson was a career politician used to the halls of power and the American political machine. He was Alexandria's current best ally, having forgone his own nomination for President to support her efforts.

"I think I can agree to that," Alexandria said, smiling and extending her hand. Leif took it, and gave her a firm handshake, just as another tremor shook the building.

He grimaced, peering out a nearby window. "Snow's still coming down. And in Phoenix…"

"Yes, but that's why this needs to happen," Alexandria said firmly, and stepped out into the hall.

A long walk up the hall and onto the field later, and Alexandria broke out into the artificial light of the stadium. The sun had been up for just over an hour, but it was too black to tell that with the clouds overhead. To her surprise, people packed both the field and the stadium itself, despite the blizzard and shuddering earth.

For a moment, Alexandria considered flying over the people's heads to the stage, but set that aside. Instead, she took the time to shake a few hands, give a few hugs, and even kiss a baby, who was cold and crying with an anxious young latina mother.

"Bless you," the woman said, tears freezing on her cheeks as her breath misted in the air and she tried to comfort the squalling child. Alexandria gave her a squeeze, then moved on as cameras flashed and reporters talked quietly into their microphones.

At last, Alexandria ascended to the stage with Leif, wiping aside the snow that covered her lectern. She looked out at the crowd, then down at the teleprompter, and finally at her notes. Deciding something, she crumpled up the paper, and very obviously threw it over her shoulder.

"I think my carefully prepared speech is no longer relevant," Alexandria said, holding out a hand to catch a few drifting snowflakes. That got sporadic chuckles, and she smiled grimly. "There's been a lot of questions as to why I'm running for president. A lot of concerns about having a Parahuman Executive. Fear that this is my attempt to become a warlord, like Moord Nag or the Raiden Shogun."

More flashes from cameras, and uncomfortable murmurs from the crowd, and Alexandria leaned forward. "I can understand those fears. It's one reason I've been campaigning as Rebecca Costa-Brown, not as Alexandria. To emphasize that I don't want to become a despotic tyrant, but instead to serve and protect the people of the United States of America, and to uphold the law of the land."

Slowly, Alexandria lifted up into the air, carrying the podium and microphone up with her. "The time for that has passed. Why do I seek the highest office in the land?"

She pointed up towards the sky, and at that moment, a shudder ran through the earth, causing the crowd to cry out in panic.

"This is why! Because the world is changing! Because our people NEED to be protected and defended! I am Rebecca Costa-Brown! But I am also Alexandria! And my Vision for this nation is to defend it and those I love, to make this country stand proud in a world of monsters and gods as a woman and as a Parahuman! A President who will put herself on the front lines to protect you! I-"

Child of two worlds, you walk a narrow path. But your Vision is broad.

Alexandria stuttered, her eyes growing wide. A voice in her head. Soft and serene, a woman's voice, one full of both grief, and compassion.

"I will not give up," Alexandria managed. "No matter what happens. You will always have me to stand on the frontlines of the fight against evil and oppression."

Though your heart is troubled, your mind is clear: you will let nothing dissuade you from your Ambition.

"What you feel today is the presence of a new Archon," Alexandria declared, barely hearing the shock of the crowd as she spoke the truth, as much as she could. "Some call them gods, some demons, some simply powerful capes. I am here to tell you that today in Russia, a new one has appeared. Will she be a threat like the Raiden Shogun, or a friend, like Nahida Saeed? Only time will tell."

No matter what the price, you will pay it to uphold your Love for those you defend.

"And as your President, I swear to you, America will stand proud amongst all the nations, with a Commander in Chief that can look one of them in the eye and demand that we be treated as equals, not as pawns to be manipulated!" Alexandria thundered, now oblivious to the crowd as she poured out her heart.

Let your Heart be your Guide, my beloved Child of Ice.

The sky overhead suddenly cleared, and the snow stopped falling as a clear pale blue crystal appeared over Alexandria's podium. She reached up on hand, clasping her Vision tightly.

"Choose me, and I promise, America will lead the way once more!"

The crowd erupted into wild cheers, whether because the storm had stopped, or because of the speech, it didn't matter. Alexandria gripped the icy Vision tightly, her mind reeling.

Parahumans… can receive Visions? This had never happened before.

She set her podium back down carefully and held up her Vision for all the world to see.

"WE WILL NEVER BOW TO YOU!" Alexandria screamed at the heavens. "WE WILL NOT GO QUIETLY! HUMANITY WILL LIVE ON! WE WILL TRIUMPH!"

Across the world, the golden man who held up Heaven's Gift in his hand did not hear her.

But the bloody girl that lay sprawled in the snow did. And though she was near death, she smiled.

"Vengeance…" the tsaritsa coughed, scarlet blood frothing at her lips. "Will be yours, my daughter."

The Warrior regarded the small object in his hand. At his feet lay his opponent, the Being that had dared challenge him. She had been strong. Stronger than any he had faced, even the Raiden Shogun.

But what was this feeling? Satisfaction? Joy? He felt… complete. Not in the sense of the Cycle, but that he had truly fulfilled his purpose. There had been a threat, and he had faced it and triumphed through combat.

He regarded the dying creature beneath him as she gasped for breath, her vital fluids leaking out. She had changed. Before, she had been larger, with a greater radiance of power about her. Now, that power had fallen out, and become six small objects.

The Warrior plucked up another of the objects, testing the weight of the thing in his remaining hand. He felt… the Earth itself. Along with Gravity, Time, Money- He shook his head and shoved the object into a pocket dimension.

The creature at his feet wheezed something in a language that the Warrior did not know. He was not as adept at reading body language as the Thinker, but he could guess what she said, some sort of curse or vow to slay him one day.

He picked up the rest of the objects of power, then turned to regard the dying woman. He held up one object, which was full of Ice and… Love? He felt a sudden yearning for the Thinker, in ways that did not make sense to an Entity. Love was not a concept they understood.

But he had felt Joy at his battle with the Being he had triumphed over.

For the first time, the Warrior wanted something other than the Cycle to be completed. He wished to experience more battles such as the one he had just fought. To triumph over other foes in combat, to prove his superiority.

So, he dropped this final piece onto the woman's bloody breast. "You fought well. If you will serve the Cycle, I will spare you, this time. Submit, and I will allow you to continue."

The woman regarded him with hate-filled eyes, then gasped, "You know I will one day seek to destroy you."

A slow smile spread over The Warrior's lips. "I look forward to it. Do you submit?"

With a snarl, the woman grabbed the object, then raised it in her clenched fist. "I… submit. I will serve your Cycle, Sustainer. For now."

"Foster conflict. Engage in battle. Gather data," the Warrior declared, kneeling and taking the woman's hand in his. She trembled at his touch, and that too brought pleasure to him. Though only because his lack of understanding caused him to view it as fear instead of rage. "And one day, when the Cycle is ready to be completed, we will battle once more. And your strength will feed our children as we destroy the world, and spread them amongst the stars."

She bared bloody teeth at him. "Very well. Though if you wish me to bear your children, you must make me do so."

He nodded, then turned about, and departed this dimension. He was weary and weakened, and he wished to study those five objects. What were they? What was the power they contained?

He would find out. And when he did, the Cycle would at least be restored.