Shame On Me


Fredbear's Family Diner, New Harmony, Utah

Monday 31st October 1983, 17:12 PM


The gaping maws of the pumpkins on the tables grinned at her as she felt tears beginning to run down her gaunt cheeks. All she could do was stand there, biting at her lip, clutching her little purple bunny rabbit toy tight to her heaving chest.

All it did was make the lead hyena-like older kid laugh more.

"Aw, look at the wittle daddy's girl!" He mocked, "Gonna cry? Aw!"

One of the other kids pounded his shoulder, "Smells like one of the robots, too! All greasy!"

That only made the laughs grow and it hurt her ears, making her cry more. She was alone; alone in this place she had called a home away from home for so long. Except this time, as much as she wished for it, she knew that help wouldn't come. That neither her mommy nor her daddy would come rushing to drive away the fears and tears.

So all she could do was clutch her rabbit Theo and hope that they would go away.

"Greasy!" The boys chanted over and over again and the sound grew painful, "Greasy! Greasy! Greasy!"

Eventually she couldn't take that pain anymore and she lifted one hand to her ears, trying to stop the piercing sound. Seeing this, one of the giggling bullies swiped at the rabbit now loose in her other hand, grasped the ears, and pulled it away from her.

"Ew!" The boy, standing perhaps a couple heads taller than her, scrunched his face up, "Even her stupid rabbit smells!"

Desperate, she tried to grab the rabbit back, but the boy roughly pushed her and threw the rabbit to the next boy. They ran, throwing it between themselves and she could only chase them, weeping. Eventually, they reached the open fire door and Theo ended up in the lead bully's hands.

Waving it in front of him, the boy asked sarcastically, "Oh? What's wrong? Want it back?"

Sniffling, she went to grab it and her heart broke even more when he threw it out of the open doorway into the rain, bouncing on the hard, filthy concrete.

"Then go get it!"

She didn't think, didn't question what she needed to do. All her body could do was run automatically out of the door into the rain. Only when she reached her toy and heard the loud snap behind her did she understand her mistake.

Spinning around to see the door now shut and the boys soundlessly laughing on the other side, she felt that sinking feeling in her chest. "W…wait…"

Picking up the rabbit again, she ran to the door and tried to open it. There wasn't a handle on this side, though, and it was too heavy for her little hands to push it open. Her tears mixed with the cold Fall rain as she hurried to the window, pounding at the glass window where the boys were now standing by.

She hit her hand against the glass, but all they did was laugh and run away from the window. Leaving her alone in the dark alleyway, drenched in rain.

Sobbing, she jumped and tried to catch the eyesight of someone, anyone, who was inside. Fredbear was wandering around on the shop floor and she hoped he would do something. Yet nobody came.

Not until she heard the car turn into the alleyway, the headlights beaming and blinding her for a moment. Tears in her eyes, she turned and looked, fearful.

A man came out, shrouded in shadows that made him purple. He approached her, hands clenched. He smelled bad. None of that mattered, however, when she saw his face.

The girl rubbed her red eyes. "Un…Uncle Bill?"

He didn't respond as he approached her. In that moment, her belief that she was saved from her devastation blinded her to the truth.

Charlie sobbed in both despair and relief. "Uncle Bill…I'm scared, I…the other kids, they threw Theo out…he's all wet and dirty now…I…I want to go home-"

Then it was pain which blinded her. Everything went white as the backhand hit her across the face and she skimmed her knees on the ground. Wailing after she was no longer stunned, she tried to flee once more as a betrayal she couldn't understand filled her every being. All she could do was use her little legs and run.

She didn't get far.

She cried out as her Uncle Bill caught up with her and grabbed at her brown hair, seizing it in an angry hand. Charlie sobbed in pain and desperation as she was pulled closer, feeling the two rough hands wrap around her throat. He clambered over her as he dragged her to the floor.

In the darkness, all she could see was his evil, furious shark-like grin. It looked like the pumpkins inside. She scraped and clawed at the hands that squeezed the life out of her, digging her nails into the flesh, to do anything not to be hurt more.

Daddy, she tried to speak, Daddy save me. Please mommy and daddy I don't want to die I don't want to end up like David I was good what did I do wrong I just want to go home I don't want to go into the dark I hate the dark I can't breathe I'm so cold

And then there was nothing but darkness.

All around her. She bawled and shouted into the void around her and wandered around for so long. Sometimes all she could do after minutes of walking and screaming out was just collapse onto the unseeable floor and silently sob once her throat was too raw. Until she saw the lake.

As she approached it, hugging herself tightly, the trees began to form. It was only when she was close enough that she saw the man by the lake. A fisherman, old and bearded with an eyepatch, his back turned to her.

Looking over his shoulder, the old man smiled. A smile which faltered when he saw the scared little five year old girl whose eyes were sore from crying.

"It's okay," the old man assured her, "you're okay. Come here…come here."

Sniffling, Charlie approached the man, sad and frightened. "Where am I?"

The old man hesitated. "You're in a safe place. One where nobody will hurt you. You'll…you'll understand soon enough. But in the meantime…just breathe. You're safe."

"Who…" She whispered, "Who are you?"

"A friend. Perhaps not the one you need…but the one you've got."

All she could do was tremble as fresh tears slid down her cold cheeks. In her infantile mind, she could not even begin to comprehend or to know if she could trust him.

"Come on." The old man patted the ground, "Sit with me for a moment."

Eventually she did so, hunched over as she felt the pangs in her chest threatening to burst her heart from the inside. The old man could barely look at her, pain in his own eyes.

"I know you're scared." The old man kindly spoke, "You don't know what's happened and you don't know why."

"Did…" Charlie asked, her voice shaking, "Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No! No, sweetheart, you-" The old man shook his head, almost angrily, "You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't do anything to deserve this."

"But…but Uncle Bill hurt me."

"You didn't do anything to deserve it. Okay?"

"Why?" She quivered, feeling sadness envelop her as deep as the water in the lake, "Why did this happen?"

"I don't know." The old man admitted, "I wish I could tell you why…but even now, I don't know."

Staring at him, Charlie's face scrunched up in despair as she felt her reality sink in. "What's going to happen to me?"

When the old man reached for her, Charlie winced, causing him to look ashamed of himself. However, she reached for the outstretched hand after a moment and held it. Finally, the old man answered. "What will happen…is you will go on. You will go back. You will return, not as you once were. You will shoulder a responsibility that should never have been put on you. You will carry those in your arms who need it, in such a way you deserved and should have gotten. You will do this…because that is who you are."

All she could do was cry at that. "I don't understand. I…I…I just want my daddy!"

"I know." The old man said as he embraced her, letting the girl sob into his chest. He couldn't stop his own furious tears from forming. "I know."


Black Hills, South Dakota

Saturday 1st July 2017 19:21 PM


The walk back to the SUV, though with some pace, also came with some care. Not for one minute did they not look over their shoulders, still in the gear they had stolen from the Crucible. No point worrying about changing until we're safe, Mike decided.

Once they were at the SUV and ensured that all of their gear was securely packed away, they entered and started to drive, Mike's hands wrapped tightly on the wheel.

"Carefully." Caine breathed, "We're just a couple of hikers heading back to civilization, that's all."

Nodding shakily, Mike felt his not-so-physical nerves running through him. "Right. Right. Team, keep an eye out, yell if you see anything."

Cassidy raised an eyebrow in the back, "Are we expecting trouble?"

"We're always expectin' trouble." Fritz moaned.

Minutes came by as the tension ran through the car, each one of them expecting the thinly-veiled peace to come to a disastrous end. That they would see cars gaining on them, or helicopters in the sky. Mike could almost see the propellers spinning through the sky canopy.

Yet it never came. Even as they reached state lines and crossed back into Wyoming, there was nothing on the horizon except clear skies and open roads.

"Might need to switch the car." Mike mumbled, "Can't leave a trail."

Caine agreed with him. "Aye, we'll ditch before we reach Utah."

Still in disbelief, Mike had to admit it. "Damn, I thought we'd never see the sun again."

"I thought they'd find us a couple of nice boxes for the incinerator." Caine nodded.

"They must've found out by now that someone robbed their convoy…but then it got hand delivered to them. We got through all of their checks…" In an exasperated bemusement, Mike asked honestly, "There's no way we just got away with that?"

"You know what?" With a smirk, Caine turned his head towards him. "I think we did."

And Mike laughed. "Oh, my God!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Dave said, "We did it!"

"We did it!" Gabriel pounded his shoulder, which made Cassidy give an almost instinctive recoil and scowl, but she quickly relaxed.

Giving a tired moan, Caine inclined his head facing the car roof, eyes closed. "All of you…well bloody done. We could not have gotten this done without all of you."

Charlie smiled brightly. "It's what we do, Mr. Caine. Always."

"Of course," Cassidy pointed out, a little unsure, "and I say this with the upmost respect, we've gotten sidetracked."

Fritz' own smile turned sour. "Ah great, thanks, buzzkill."

Before Cassidy could retort, Caine did it for her. "No, no, she's right. Last few days have all been about me and my problems. The deal was there before, but I want to make it clear: You need anything from us for this mission of yours, be it manpower, firepower, resources, I will do my upmost to get it to you."

But she grimaced, "I'll be honest, and correct me if I'm wrong guys, but do we even know where to start?"

"It's…" Mike considered how best to lay it out, "complicated. I mean, yeah, we've got Henry's leads, but we still don't know how to actually kill a Remnant."

Caine shrugged, "Eh, well, if anyone can figure out a way, it'd be Tyler. Who knows, we might get back home with good news."

"Here's hoping." Sighing, Mike felt the elation of the successful mission start to dwindle. Our job's far from over yet. "So what happens next?"

"Aye, well, first…" Caine grabbed one of the folders from the dashboard, "We've got that peace council in two days time and unless my hunch was right on this, ten years of hard work may be about to go down the drain. So…no point holding it off any longer."

As he began to rummage through the files, Mike ran all the scenarios he was not ignorant of. "So, you plan on gatecrashing?"

"Probably."

"Then I hope you've found something good…by what you were saying the other day, it sounds like AESIR's on its last legs."

Caine laughed, a pained sound. "Putting it lightly." He continued to read through the files and by the satisfied grunt he gave, Mike could tell it was a good start. "We've got the right files, here. Let's have a closer look…"

As Mike continued to drive down the open road, neither he nor the souls interrupted the detective. There would be a few small conversations in the back and Mike made sure to shoot them reassuring smiles through the rear view mirror. He could tell that they were getting restless, even if they were trying their hardest not to show it.

"Okay." Caine finally broke his silence as he packed the files away, "that confirms that…" Then, he fished around for the other file, this one Mike didn't recognise and knew must've come from the High Overseer's personal documents. "Now, the question is…"

More silence followed as Thomas read through the words of Nate Donovan. When he was done, a darkness spread across his face and he laid the folder down, slumping in his seat, rubbing his face.

"What's up?" Mike asked, readying himself for disappointment. "Dead end?"

But Caine shook his head. "No. No, my hunch was right. We've got what we need."

"Okay." Mike nodded, enthusiastically, but saw that concern in Charlie's eyes at how deflated the detective sounded. "That's good. Right?"

But Caine sighed. "It puts everything I knew into question. Once I laid it forward during the council…well. Quite the pipebomb."

"How bad?"

"Well," Caine explained, "you've helped me out a few times. What would you say are the three factors you need to solve a crime? Without any doubt?"

Pausing, Mike thought about it. "Well…evidence, for one thing."

"Aye, hard evidence. What else?"

When Mike couldn't answer that, it was Dave who offered, "How about the person who did it…saying they did it? I think…" By his tone, he seemed to regret stepping forward by the way he retreated.

But Caine alleviated his self-doubt. "A confession, good. Not under duress. A guilty conscience is a terrible flaw. What is the third?"

Unable to help herself, Cassidy gave Dave a quiet well done as they all continued to think about it. Seeing the clear and obvious sign of a group activity, Mike couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"Well…" Cassidy leaned forward to look at Charlie, "so, uh, Charlie…y'know this whole crusade thing?"

"Yes." Charlie acknowledged, politely but a little unsure, "Why?"

"Well, I mean, why? Why did you want to do it?"

"That's…a little hard to explain. I just…felt like I needed to do it."

It surprised Mike to see that Cassidy had gotten what she needed. "How about that, then? A reason?"

"Brilliant." Caine smiled slightly, "A motive, a confession, and hard evidence. You have all three, there's very little room for doubt."

Mike knew better than to question his friend on what point he was making.

"Through any case, these are the three factors which are paramount. The fewer questions left unanswered, the better."

It was unfortunate that Cassidy did it for him, a raised eyebrow. "Uh, Mr. Caine? Where are you going with this?"

Understand the confusion, Caine grabbed the two files. "A motive," He waved the files that Mike had stolen, "a confession," he waved the files he himself had stolen, "and of course…"

Caine settled the files down and then picked up the paper-wrapped package, holding it for them all to see. "And of course…hard evidence."

"The dagger?" Mike asked, taking a glance and saw that Ruby-encrusted dagger handle. "What did you call it, the Dagger of Excalibre?"

"Esagila." Jeremy corrected. "It was a temple built by the Babylonians."

Cassidy snorted. "Nerd." When she saw the glare from Charlie, she shrugged, "Hey, didn't say it was a bad thing…?"

"Right, the Dagger of Esagila." Mike nodded, "So what is with that dagger? Why is it so important?"

"Aye," Caine acknowledged, "I guess I owe you that much. The story of the dagger itself fortunately isn't so ancient as the Babylonians. In fact, it was only forged just over a century ago. Now, the legends say that the metal used for the forging can't be found anymore…whether that's true or not is something my own investigations hasn't confirmed."

"Then why the fancy name?" Cassidy inquired.

Nodding, Caine withdrew the dagger from the packaging. The souls in the back had their eyes glued to it, in awe and a little trepidation. "The dagger was, according to the stories, forged by a cult who believed in the existence of four beings, powerful beyond measure. Now, from my reports, their apparent relationship with those four individuals ranged from warm worship to open warfare. These four had differing levels of…immunity, I suppose you could say. So, as insurance, this cult needed something they could use. A weapon."

Though so much of this ran off Mike like a dribble of rain. Yet he retained some of it. "And this dagger is that weapon?"

Caine shrugged, "According to the stories. These four had weapons of their own, weapons that only they could truly use to their full potential…and they were the only weapons which could harm them. And that is how they came to creating this."

"To kill them?"

"No. Not to kill them." Examining the dagger thoughtfully, Caine then appraised the pommel stone. That ruby, which seemed oddly opaque. "To capture them. You cut off one head, another grows in its place. This was their solution."

Pausing, Mike digested that. "Okay. But then…how does this all relate to Dutch Lawson?"

Packing the dagger back into the packaging, Caine stored it in the glove box. "That, Mike…is what I'm hoping this case we've formed will answer. I'd like to hear it from the High Overseer himself."

They arrived back in Utah around midnight and saw Clay Burke keeping watch. He waved them down as they left the car. Approaching the older man, Caine shook his hand. "Good to see you properly on your feet again, Commissioner."

"I've taken worse hits and walked them off." Burke dismissed their concerns. "Your brother came back with Charlie and the others. Uh…Michael. Your friend, Jack? He was in rough shape."

Mike cursed under his breath. "Thank you." He said, before stepping past Burke and heading into the Lodge. Spotting the open door, he looked through and saw the other Charlie sat down, watching over Jack. Seeing him, she smiled and spoke quietly. "Hey, Mike."

Looking over Jack, whose arm was wrapped in casts and completely unconscious, Mike felt a pang of guilt. "How…how is he?"

She tried to reassure him. "It looks worse than it is. I mean, at least…that's what Dr. Williams said."

"What happened?"

"We…" Charlie grimaced, "we ran into more than we were expecting. Four of them. Your dad, your sister, that black bear…and the weird spider thing."

Mike needed a moment to properly accept all of that. "That last one…?"

"Sorry, I mean, you know…the thing that was walking around as you?"

"Right. Right, sorry. Everyone alright?"

By the tired but not-so-distressed look on her face, Mike knew that the news wasn't awful. "It was close…but we made it out. Don't worry about us…how about you?"

Mike shrugged coyly. "Went a lot better than I was expecting. We got in, got what we were looking for, got out and best we can tell…they're none-the-wiser."

She was about to say something, but then stopped and looked past Mike. "Oh. Hi, Mr. Caine."

"Hi, Charlie." Caine smiled, "I spoke with Tyler. He said you and John really came through."

"We did our best."

Looking at Thomas, Mike frowned. "How is he?"

"Exhausted, more so than I've seen before." Caine explained, nearly dumbfounded. "He barely got out of that dump site, apparently."

"Dump site?" Mike asked, confused.

"Remember that place where you found Ron-sorry, the Toys? Seems that Afton and the other Remnants had all gone there. The black bear and the Amalgamation made it out before the place collapsed, but…Mike."

"What?" Sensing his worry, Mike grew concerned himself. "What happened?"

"Your sister." Caine explained carefully, "She was crippled by some of the debris. Tyler doesn't think either she…nor Afton…made it out before the place caved in."

"Here's hoping." Cassidy mused and Caine couldn't help but shoot her a glance. Scowling, she raised her arms in a what? sort of way. Then she realised by the haunted eyes that both Mike and Dave shared equally. Deflating, she reached for Dave's hand, which he accepted. "Sorry."

"We don't know if either got out." Caine pointed out, "All we know is that we still don't have a definitive way of taking one of them off the board permanently. Mike, listen…deal still stands. If you can hold for just a couple days, once this business with the peace council is done…"

Composing himself, Mike accepted that. "We can wait. How are you doing this?"

"I'm not going anywhere without my family." Caine said, hands on his hips. "Tyler will need to go as well. I don't want to leave you with so little firepower, so Jack and Ella will stay here, keep you company."

"When are you heading out?"

"I'd reckon first thing in the morning. We've got a long way to get to Boston. We'll need to be travelling straight through there, I'd imagine in shifts."

Nodding with a sheepish grin at the thought of all six members of the Caine family packed in a car all the way to the other side of the country, Mike reached for his shoulder. "Well…if I don't see you in the morning…I'll see you on the flipside, brother."

Caine returned his own hand to Mike's shoulder. "We'll talk before I leave, I promise you that. Mike…thank you. I couldn't have done all this without you." Before he left, Caine gave a warm smile to each of the souls, who returned it in full.

With that, Mike then returned his attention to Charlie, who seemed nearly content with the display. "I can watch him, you go get some rest."

"Are you sure? You've probably had a worse time…"

"I'm fine, kid." Mike assured her, patting her on the shoulder, "Go on, get some sleep."

To his surprise before she left, she gave him a quick embrace. "I'm glad you're okay, Mike." Then she left, with his Charlie never taking her eyes off of her duplicant as she went away.

It was a quiet time Mike spent sat down, watching over his wounded friend. Around dawn, Ella came in, half asleep and surprised to see him. They talked for a while and the time came when Mike knew it was time. He and Tyler shared a quick fist bump before they parted and Samantha thanked him for keeping his end of the bargain.

They all waved them away, including the souls. Though Mike knew only one of them could see the latter, he also knew how appreciated it was. Once the car was over the horizon and those who remained slowly drifted back inside or elsewhere, Mike remained.

"They'll be okay, Michael." Charlie joined his side, "We'll all be okay."

Sensing Dave join his other side, Mike nodded, smiling sadly. He laid two hands on the shoulders of his little brother and his cousin. "I know. I know. They will be."


Boston, Massachusetts

Tuesday 4th July 2017 20:57 PM


Tyler marched down the steps inside the wall of Fort Independence, passing the doorman who appraised him, and turned right. Right in the middle of the massive courtyard was a circular table. How on earth they'd gotten it in there was for minds wiser than his own.

Surrounding this table was a decent sized number of people, taking a third each. The side furthest away from him stood the Crucible, with their High Overseer and his cronies. They stood wearing their posh clothes and seemed indignant at being kept waiting.

Opposite to them was Tyler's own people; not to his surprise, they hadn't really had the time to dress the part. All of them still wore the same clothes they used for combat and not a single one wasn't covered in dirt, soot, and dried blood. As Carl turned and laid his eyes on Tyler, he nodded gratefully.

He and Carl shook hands as they met. "I was getting worried."

"Aye, we got held back a bit." Tyler shrugged, "Ella and Jack made it to us. They're good."

"Good." Carl nodded, relieved, "Meeting's about to take place."

Tyler took his place beside Brimstone and Alice, the both of them sharing words with him as they stood there. To Carl's right stood Takeo Hasashi and Stevens. Best sharpshooter in the Crucible, his brother had once called her. Having representatives on what was once Sword Department on their side certainly was a boon.

Then there were the two men who stood in the space between AESIR and the Crucible. Jonathan Sanders and Hans Sokolov, once the High Overseer of the Crucible and the Overseer of Sword Department respectively. Both looking resolute but extremely uncomfortable with the situation they had found themselves.

"Good." Sanders breathed, "Now that we are all here, I suppose we should get this started-"

"Ah, not quite." Tyler interrupted, causing all eyes to fall on him. "Not quite…yet. You know how it is…latecomers."

Gritting his teeth, Donovan demanded, "What idiocy is this? Delays? There have been enough delays!"

"Ty," Carl said carefully, "what are you talking about?"

Grimacing, Sanders raised his arms to try and cool everyone down. "Mr. Caine, by my count, I would assume that the only person who is missing is Samantha Williams. Is she on her way?"

"Aye, she is. Of course," A slow grin formed on Tyler's face, "she's not alone."

As everyone stared at him in befuddlement or enraged confusion, he didn't need to look to see the two people emerging from the entrance from the wall and then descending the steps. Stepping aside, Tyler looked towards the entrance as they reached the opening.

Thomas Caine adjusted his tie he'd received alongside the rest of the stone-grey suit he'd picked up before the meeting, his wife steadfast by his side. Around him, the Operators of AESIR drifted from their places and stared, both aghast and in awe.

"Took ya long enough, bro." Tyler laughed, "What were you and that tailor doing?"

Thomas snorted, "What can I say? Marcello's measurements needed to be adjusted. I've lost weight."

Tyler laughed again, just as Carl stepped past him, almost shaking. With his amusement vanishing, Thomas nodded to his longtime friend. "Carl."

"Thomas?" Carl gasped. "How…?"

"It's…a long story."

"Have you…" Looking at Tyler, Carl seemed unsure, "done the…"

"Aye, don't worry. He's legit." Tyler assured him.

It was Brimstone who stepped forward next. He and Thomas shook hands. "I'm not sure how you managed this…but it's damn good to see you back with us, Thomas."

"And it's good to be back." Caine smiled, but then winced when Alice suddenly pounded his shoulder.

Holding up her hands, Samantha warned, "Careful, he's still a little fragile."

"Never," Alice pointed at Caine sternly, "do that again."

"I learnt my lesson, don't worry." Caine smiled. Then he embraced Carl as the man stepped forward.

"Brother," Carl mumbled into his ear, "I thought I lost you."

"I know. I'm sorry." Separating from him, Caine looked at each one of his team. "Thank you for keeping this dream of ours alive in my stead. I've been briefed on how bad it's gotten. Now…shall we get down to business?"

They all stood united before heading to their seats. Unable to contain himself, Caine shot a smirk at the gaunt-looking Donovan, nodded towards the awestruck Sanders and Sokolov, before shaking the hand of Hasashi.

"Thank you," Caine said, "for standing with us."

"It was never a question." Takeo responded. They then took their seats, but before she did, Stevens laughed.

"Bet you must be pissing yourself, hey, High Overseer?"

Indignant, Donovan wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to compose himself. He then sat down, the other horrified Overseers joining him. Gritting his teeth, Donovan demanded, "So, this was all a ruse? A…disgusting sham to hurt the same organisation which made you, Caine?"

"Were I so lucky." Caine responded cooly. "I suppose you could call it a run of rotten luck. It appears to be going around. Things just happen to disappear right in front of you…"

"Perhaps you and your band of mercenaries are not as effective as you believe." Donovan spat.

Caine smiled. "I'll take that under advisement."

Nearly shaking with frustration, Donovan went to send another dig, but Sanders interrupted him. Over a decade away from the Crucible's high throne had barely put a dent into his authority. "Enough. We are not here to exchange barbs…we are here to establish a lasting peace and to prevent any further damage."

Inclining his head, Caine said, "Of course. So…High Overseer. I suppose you have demands?"

Scowling at him with utter contempt, Donovan held his hand out to the increasingly-gaunt Overseer Jones. She faintly nodded and handed him a set of documents. Adjusting the strap on it, the High Overseer threw it with little care and it slid across the table, landing just a little in front of Caine.

"Lancaster." Donovan said and his right hand man straightened.

"Our demands are simple." Lancaster explained, watching the operators with a wariness only someone who understood the danger just one represented would show, "Takeo Hasashi will end the Prometheus Protocol and Sword Department will rejoin the Crucible. Once this is done, he will step down as Overseer and will face charges, or he will voluntarily leave the Crucible. His inner circle will face the same."

At that, Stevens uttered a dark insult and Takeo grimaced.

Continuing, never showing any remorse nor delight for what he said, Lancaster continued. "The Crucible will use their contacts to ensure the safety of the civilians who have become the unfortunate victims of this conflict. New identities will be offered to those who may remain in danger after this. We will seek no retribution nor criminal charges for any of you, nor those who follow you. We will utilise our resources to a certain degree to protect…as long as our demands are met."

Tyler growled, "You really are gonna go on about civilians in danger, you stuck up-"

"Tyler." Caine interrupted him.

"No, I agree." Morcant insisted, "That's not good enough. Families have been torn asunder by your actions, High Overseer."

With something between a smirk and hiss, Donovan said, "Do not blame us for your mistakes."

Alice stood up from her seat, hands clenched. "Go to hell. The cartel would never have gotten Augustus if it wasn't for you. Women and children, burnt to death, because of you, you son of a bitch."

Before anyone else could speak up, Caine raised his voice just loud enough. "Enough. All of you."

With a bitter mockery, Donovan shot back, "It seems even now, you can't get your underlings under control."

"I didn't say they were wrong, High Overseer." Caine raised an eyebrow, "These conditions are not good enough. Whatever your issues with me or those here…you put civilians in danger. People are dead. You set our enemies on us with no regard for the safety of those around us. We expect compensation."

Before Donovan could argue, Jones pitched in. "Our coffers are depleted, but once this war is over, we can substitute some of the funding for our defence budget."

How angry the High Overseer was at her throwing her weight around was unknown to Caine by just looking, though he seemed to compose himself. "Fine. There you go. Once the war is over…we will compensate you. Now…"

"Your demands." Caine acknowledged. "Go ahead, Ramsey."

To his credit, Lancaster didn't show any contempt at that. "These will be met, under the condition that as of today, AESIR is to be liquidated. You will pull your funding, surrender your arms, and will never serve under any other name. You will live your lives as civilians, unless those we believe to be exceptional accept an offer of enlistment. If any of you break this condition, you will be marked for death and exposed as a terrorist."

It seemed that the only one of the eight who sat under AESIR's banner whose face didn't sour was Thomas' own.

"These conditions are in that contract." Lancaster continued, prompting Caine to reach for it and start reading. "It is only due to AESIR's actions in the past and the positive net they have achieved during their time that this offer exists. Once you all sign it, you will be under these conditions."

"Yes, yes." Donovan waved his hand, acting like he was a truly benevolent leader. "You had a good run, of course. But all things come to an end."

Not breaking eye contact with Donovan, Caine spoke softly. "So once this has been signed…by all active agents of AESIR…our records are clear. Our lives free…as long as we follow these conditions."

"Of course." Donovan gave a small smile.

Taking a deep, ominous breath, Caine held the contract in front him. He looked between his fellow Operators, whose expressions ranged from an accepting grimness to bitter spite. He looked at Takeo Hasashi and Stevens, both with their own pill to swallow. He looked at the understanding bows of their heads that Sanders and Sokolov gave him.

Then Caine looked at Samantha, who reached for his hand. With a sad smile, Caine turned his focus back onto the High Overseer and sighed.

"Well." Caine finally said, "Sometimes…I suppose you have to cut your losses. Make the best decision for the good of the many."

With an expectant look, Donovan said with a voice mixed with victory and annoyance. "So sign the paper, Thomas Caine."

Caine smiled. "Yeah…I don't think so."

And then he tossed the contract without looking behind him, hearing the clipboard smash on the ground behind him. For a few moments, there was disbelief, shock, amazement, and pure and utter hatred on display at that table.

None more on Donovan's reddening face. "You puny, low-born little scummy bastard."

Stevens laughed again and though he seemed taken aback, Takeo also couldn't help but give an uncharacteristic smirk.

"Tom?" Carl asked, eyes wide, "What are you doing?"

But Caine didn't respond; he simply smiled and watched the scene unfold, watching each and every single person carefully.

"This was planned. Right?" Alice mumbled.

Rubbing his face, Carl made eye contact with Samantha. "You've checked his head, right? He's not compromised?"

"As healthy as someone who's been in a coma for two years could be." Sam shrugged.

"Then what am I meant to think from this?" Carl demanded and she shrugged. Changing his stare to Tyler, Carl urged for anything.

"I don't have the foggiest." Tyler grinned. Truth was, they both knew he had something, though he hadn't elaborated.

"We offer you a way out," Donovan seethed, "and you throw it away?"

"I'm sure we can put it behind us." Caine said brightly.

"Sam?" Carl insisted.

"He's fine, Carl."

"Everyone!" Sanders demanded, though even he couldn't escape the growing concern. "We agreed to a peaceful exchange of terms and that is what we're here to do. Now…Thomas. Since you are clearly not satisfied with these terms…"

"I've got papers of my own." Withdrawing the first of the folders, Caine held it in his hand, never taking his eyes off the High Overseer. "The contents of these files have been scanned, copied, and are in the hands of thirteen of our own. They have their orders; if one of us walks out of this meeting with so much as a papercut, or if you have any ideas of extorting, blackmailing, or any other fancy term you have for it, the contents will be around the world before midnight."

Then, he passed it to Sanders, who looked at it thoughtfully. Then he picked it up and began to read. Though that furious look never left, Donovan seemed knocked off guard.

"The files in Sanders' hands right now," Caine clarified, "contains the report of Operation Firewall. For those who don't know, Operation Firewall, considered to be one of the most disastrous and costly missions the Crucible has ever undertaken, claimed the lives of twelve of the thirteen Sword, Shield, Shadow, and Order agents sent. For an artefact recovery operation, it went particularly badly."

Grimacing, Sokolov pitched in. "Overseer Holden Cross stepped down after that day. It was a terrible time."

"So," Donovan scowled, but his nerves were showing, "you now attempt to bring up past tragedies? For what purpose?"

"It's important to understand why this artefact was considered important enough to warrant thirteen agents and exactly what happened." Caine continued, unperturbed. "Specifically, it was not the quality and value of the artefact, rather the believed danger it contained. So, thirteen of our best was sent. Perhaps that was why it went so badly."

Nodding his agreement, Sokolov clarified. "Whatever was in that temple got in the heads of our men. One by one…burning them from within or turning them against each other."

"I remember." Sanders broke away from his reading for a second. "Those who hadn't died at the hands of their fellow agent showed signs of haemorrhage; eyes burst, blood running from the nose and mouth, internal organs liquified. It was as if we'd opened the world to an ancient plague."

"It was a terrible tragedy." Donovan repeated, trying his best to feign sympathy, "One we could have never suspected."

"Except you did expect it." Caine cut in like a sword of fire. "In fact, High Overseer, you planned it."

Gobsmacked, Donovan hissed, "How dare you!"

"So you deny it?"

"What are you-of course! You threaten any chance of peace between ourselves and this…gang of misfits you run with!"

"Strange." Caine raised his eyebrows as he took the second set of files out. Then he tossed them to Sanders. "Because you had an awfully guilty conscious when you wrote about it in entries three…eleven…twenty-six…forty-five…naturally, you always kept it just vague enough, but there were details there that matched up far too perfectly."

Donovan's tomato-like face shook. "Speculation. All you have is speculation."

"Nathaniel." Sanders spoke quietly.

"He is grasping at straws." Donovan insisted.

"Nathaniel." Sanders said a little louder, staring at him. "Is this true?"

Frowning, Sokolov tried to look over his longtime friend's shoulder to read what was on there. "What? What does it say?"

"The artefact was reportedly destroyed during the operation." Caine continued, "Twelve of our own lost and nothing to show for it. At least, that was what the leading researcher stated. The same researcher who had access to any materials recovered. So, High Overseer, care to explain how that very same artefact that you reported as being lost ended up in your treasury room?"

"I swear to you…" Donovan jabbed an angry finger in his direction. "If you come out…with one more baseless accusation."

"Baseless?" Caine widened his eyes. "Truly? Are you sure?"

"You are sick in the head."

"So you have never seen the dagger before?"

"Nothing. You have nothing."

"One-point-two Kg, or two-point-six pounds. Thirty-nine centimetres, or fifteen-point-five inches. Metal from an element not yet discovered which has a similar appearance to red-gold, yet is as durable as Platinum, sharp as Tungsten, and perhaps could only be melted in the molten of an active volcano. These were your own words, Nathaniel."

"You," Donovan growled, "have nothing!"

"I have the dagger in my right pocket."

Before any of them could break out of their stupor, Caine withdrew the dagger in its protective casing and held it out in front of them all. It glimmered and he placed it down carefully.

"With the assistance of Michael Schmidt," Caine spoke smoothly, eyes glued onto Donovan's ghastly form, "I broke into the Crucible three days ago. During that time, we recovered the files now in the hands of the true High Overseer. More so, after years of speculation, I confirmed that the dagger was inside your treasury room, Donovan."

His face screwed up in rage, Donovan bit back, "So you reveal yourself for what you truly are…nothing more than a thief."

"It certainly helped." Caine shrugged, "However, it was the skills of John Lamarck which helped me put the pieces together. All I can say is, Brim…I lost our bet."

Even the other operators of AESIR seemed confused by that; only Brimstone took that in and spoke in a subdued tone. "Ah."

"Thirteen agents walked into that temple." Caine continued, any humor or lightheartedness gone from his voice, "In an operation facilitated under false pretenses, organised by Nathaniel Donovan's own Law Department, only one man came out."

Most of them already knew where he was going, with faces of dread and shock and anger all around the room.

"That man," Caine finished, "was considered to be one of the greatest agents who ever served under the Crucible. A man who was integral in the collapse of two major Governments. A man who had left countless bodies, had made entire militia groups disappear. The deadliest man on Earth. Known today…as the Hell's Herald."

"Dutch Lawson was the only man who walked out of that temple that day." Caine finished grimly, "And in the process, Donovan's plan to create his own pseudo-Horseman was successful."

As Caine had spoken, Sokolov's rage had grown and grown until he was entirely red. He spat, glaring giant daggers into Donovan, "You son of a bitch."

"Speculation!" Donovan screamed, "That's all he has"!"

"All the pieces started to come together after Dutch carried me out of Fazbear Frights without a burn on him." Caine pressed on, "His ruthlessness. His tenacity. His incapability of going down for good. But you overplayed your hand, Nathaniel. All those shadow groups who hired Dutch. We could never trace them; not Sword Department, not Shield Department, not even Shadow could. It never made sense…until Dutch left that contract behind at the Fazbear Entertainment Office."

"Damn you." Donovan growled."You do this…when the Great Cataclysm is coming? Have you learnt nothing from us?"

Caine didn't acknowledge him. "How could we work out where Dutch was getting his funding…when the contracts, missions, intel, and resources were coming from us?"

Any positivity on Tyler's face had been withdrawn as he'd learnt all of this. Samantha had withdrawn, looking perhaps a little faint. To their sides, the other operators had all become tense.

A drop in the bucket compared to the reactions of the other Crucible agents.

"So, High Overseer," Caine continued, finally feeling his own anger burning, but he kept it controlled, "you've given your ultimatum. Now you'll listen to mine…I don't care about the leadership of the Crucible. I do not care about your Great Cataclysm. I do not care whether you stand down or not, because I know you won't. If you try to pull a Napoleon and flee to some private island, we'll track you down. No, you will batten down the hatches and cling on to your power because that's who you are."

His ego was clearly harmed as he retorted, "You want to talk to me about who I am?"

But Caine didn't react to that. "You can do whatever you want behind closed doors. But AESIR will not, as you asked us to do, liquidate. We will continue our activities; you know, solving mysteries. Saving the world. Kicking ass. If Takeo and the rest of his Blades do decide to end the Prometheus Protocol, he will not step down and any action taken against him and the others will be considered as hostile action."

"You won't need to worry about that." Takeo pitched in, glaring at Donovan, "Until you and your cronies face charges and I see you tied to a post with seven rifles aimed at your head, Sword Department will never reform."

Despite his past loyalty, Caine could see the pride in Sokolov's eyes at his protege's words.

Donovan snarled again, "You want to talk to me about who I am? You are the epitome of everything the Crucible strives against. You question me on my choices, when you align yourself with two false Harbingers, a filthy Duplicant, and him?" Donovan pointed at Brimstone, "An army of war criminals, that's all you are!"

"We are quite the ragtag group." Tyler remarked.

Carl smirked. "The best."

But Donovan wasn't done. "You were always the worst thing that John Lamarck ever did, Thomas Caine. Call yourself whatever you like; a reformed killer, a thief, a detective…but I know that the truth is, you were nothing more and remain nothing more than a weak pathetic child, who could never stop a bullet."

It was Tyler who reacted first, reaching for his gun, followed by Alice. Before either of them could do anything, Caine held up his hand. Both with glares in their eyes, they sat back down.

"What I am, High Overseer," Caine spoke lowly, "is a husband whose wife believed herself a widow for two years. A father to a seventeen year old girl who needed her uncle to drive her to prom. A father to a twelve year old boy who won his football team their first trophy without me in the stand. A father…to a twenty-two year old who's already a better man than either of us…who had to march off to war. Because of you."

Finally standing up from his seat, Caine rested his hands on the table and stared hard at Donovan, a near smile on his face. "So, High Overseer…here's the deal. You will back off us. You will fix this. You will help us pacify the criminal groups that you have set on us. You will use your connections to wipe the slate clean for us. You will do this…or I will make sure that every Government and organisation in the world knows that Nathaniel Donovan and his Crucible funded Dutch Lawson."

Shaking with both rage and perhaps even fear, Donovan insisted, "You wouldn't. You wouldn't dare."

"You will do all of this," Caine finished, unshaken, "or I will burn your whole fucking world to the ground."

Without taking a moment to look at anyone else, the detective sat back down in his seat, relaxing into it. After giving a moment to simmer, he raised an eyebrow at Donovan.

"So what say you, High Overseer?"

Once the agreement was made, Donovan and his people left the Fort first in no less than a hurry. As soon as they were gone, Sokolov rushed Caine and grabbed him in a massive bear hug.

Sokolov laughed, "Ha ha, I knew it!"

When Thomas wasn't able to let out a can't breathe himself, Tyler pounded the large man on the shoulder, "Oi, doctor said fragile!"

"Ah. Of course." Sokolov let Caine go and the detective took a few moments to regain his bearings. Looking up, he saw Sanders in front of him, a certain look in his eyes.

"You lost your hat." Sanders remarked.

For his part, Thomas shrugged. "My eldest has it…fits him better."

"You need a replacement."

"Aye, probably."

"You know where you can get it." Sanders smiled, "Because if John could see you now, he'd be proud of you, kid."

Unable not to be touched by that, Caine took the offered hand and shook it. The two former Crucible leaders left with Takeo and his Blades, leaving AESIR alone.

"So, boss," Murphy asked, "since AESIR is not quite done yet…what now?"

Feeling an unavoidable sense of victory run through his veins, Caine stared off into the horizon. "Now? Now we get to work."


Fazbear Entertainment Executive Office, Hurricane, Utah

Tuesday 4th July 2017 21:00 PM


"Don't fidget with them." Henry warned as he sat at the chair on the end of the table, "They won't set properly."

Though he tried his best, Mike could feel the itch. "They just feel so…plasticky."

"Well, you're not far off. Look, it's just basic prosthetics; give me time, I'll get you some better."

They'll do for now, Mike mused. The doors to the meeting room opened and wary stone faces marched in, either watching the two men at the other side of the room as they took their seats or not risking making eye contact.

The last man to walk in the room was one Mike knew he technically had a past working relationship with. He appraised both of them with some grimness.

"Henry." The man inclined his head.

Henry smiled, "Malcolm."

"It's been a while."

"Indeed. So…should we get this underway?"

"Of course." Taking his seat at the opposite end of the table, Malcolm seemed to be waiting for the last man to sit down. In spite of the eyes on him, Mike remained planted against the wall. "Michael…would you like a seat?"

"What can I say?" Mike shrugged, "I'm just the muscle."

"Our friend here would prefer to stand." Henry explained, "I assure you that this is a safe ground. We are here to discuss business first…and to ensure that the transition over the next few weeks is smooth."

Unbeknownst to the paper pushers and executives in the room, there were more than Mike's vigilant eyes on them; seven other pairs, in fact. All making sure to keep him updated or to offer helpful pieces of advice.

"Stop fidgeting with them." Charlie mirrored her father's scowl and Mike had to stop the snort.

Grimacing, one of the executives spoke up. "I understand that it is outside of my payroll…but may I ask what he is doing here?"

"Michael here is my number two." Henry explained, "I need someone I can trust, especially after the many issues over the last two years."

"But wasn't he the cause of those issues?"

Raising an eyebrow, Mike saw the man shrink back slightly at the sight of it.

"What caused our issues," Henry reasoned, "were mistakes in personnel and aligning ourselves with problem individuals. Blackwood, for instance. A group I'm sure you will be happy to know will no longer be affiliated with us."

"But who brought them here in the first place?"

"The details do not matter. It was a decision brought by the massacre two years ago that happened in this very room. I will not lie to you, though; with this board accepting my proposal, we have a long road ahead of us. What that means…is we need to rebrand."

Inclining his head, Malcolm clearly knew this was coming. "Project Rebirth was halted after the…incident…last year. Am I to take from this that Michael will be resuming his role?"

"No." Mike answered that, "We have both agreed it will be best for my own name to remain outside of the company for now."

"So what does that mean for the company as a whole?"

"Simple." Henry leaned forward, "I retain my own shares of the company. As Michael is the legal proprietor of William Afton's shares, he has agreed to sell them to me. I will maintain both of these shares and thus maintain a forty-two percent control of this board."

It didn't take a genius or a savvy businessman to see how disgruntled the other members of the board were. Perhaps forty-two percent wasn't gigantic in writing, but with a board of twelve members, it was quite the imbalance in Mike's opinion.

But Henry wasn't done. "In return, I have put together a business plan that will pull Fazbear Entertainment out of the brink and stabilise our cash flow. All the while ensuring that the time and resources put into Project Rebirth are not for nothing."

For some time, Malcolm appraised both of them, looking incredibly weary. Rubbing his face, he leaned forward, his eyes glued on the window behind them. The rest of the board shuffled nervously, waiting for the moment that would decide their future, for better or worse.

Then Malcolm finally answered. "My fellow board members…please place your votes. All those who vote in favour, say yea and raise your hands."

A number of yeas, either slow coming or very rapid. Mike didn't need to count the number to know it was enough.

"All those opposed…raise your hands and say nay."

All those who did so clearly knew by their frustrated faces that their votes did not matter.

Nodding once they were done, Malcolm crossed his arms and turned his attention back to Henry. "I suppose it's time for us to welcome you back, Mr. Emily. We will need to address the votes for those members not currently present, as a formality. We will contact you in the morning."

Once the other board members had left, with a few pointed glances shot in Mike's way, he and Henry were left alone in the boardroom once more. It was only when Mike had silently checked with the souls that they were all clear that Mike led the closest thing he had to an uncle out of the building.

Even then, Henry refused to talk about the outcome as they returned to the lodge. They greeted their allies and turned in for the night, Mike spending those waning hours until dawn broke keeping watch and talking with his best friends in the world.

At one point when he had fallen silent, Dave tapped Mike on the shoulder, concerned for him. "Are you okay, Michael?"

"Yeah." Mike smiled painfully, "Just…y'know. How are you doing?"

"I'm worried about Lizzy."

"Me too, bud. Me too."

"Do you know what the worst thing is, though?" Dave quietly admitted, sounding guilty, "I haven't…really thought that much about dad."

"Nobody can blame you for that, trust me. I know we didn't really talk about it, but…what he said to you back there, in that metro station."

"What he said to you was worse."

"Doesn't matter, D. What he said, it was wrong. You're an honest-to-God inspiration to me."

Dave smiled. "Thank you. You are, too."

Though Mike knew he would never believe that, he still embraced the compliment.

"He was wrong about you, too."

"Maybe at some point I'll believe that. I'm not sure what I was expecting from him…apathy? Some sort of God complex or pretending he was something else? In the end, it was just the same thing. Suppose I should've expected it after reading that letter."

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Mike mumbled, "My father died and the only thing he ever left me was a letter telling me to do something." He scoffed and continued, the others watching him pensively, "You know the worse thing about it all? Him writing that letter and giving me that task, that small act of guilt tripping showed more interest in me than my dad gave me my entire damn life."

"Like really, how hard is it just to take a moment and spend time with your kids? My step dad showed more interest in who I was and what I wanted in one week than he'd ever done. I was his son. After mom left his ass, all we had was him!"

He struggled to continue and fell silent. When he opened his eyes again and saw that they were all still waiting, letting him regain his composure.

"I remember." Dave finally broke the silence, "He was always harsh on you."

"Was he? I don't know. Maybe I deserved it. I mean, I did deserve it after what I did to you-"

"Shut up." Cassidy broke in.

Blinking with the prosthetics Henry had given him, Mike turned to look at her. Charlie scowled and was about to intervene when Cassidy continued.

"Whatever you did Mike, and let me tell you, you really did screw up," She pressed on, "none of that would justify anything that he did. Hate yourself on your own time. You didn't create the Purple Man; if anything, he created you."

The scowl on Charlie's face softened and she made eye contact with Mike. He gave a light shrug and they both relaxed, Mike thinking about those words for some time.

Eventually, Cassidy spoke up again. "So hey…Charlie. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Charlie smiled warmly.

"Why the crusade? I asked you back in the Sanctuary whether it was family you wanted or weapons. You never really answered."

Frowning, Charlie gazed at her for a few moments. "It's…complicated."

"Well," Cassidy shrugged, "not like we're doing anything at the moment."

It was Gabriel who stepped in next. "No judgement. We are family. Please…Charlie. Tell us what you feel."

Charlie took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Okay. The real reason you choose this obsession, this mission, this crusade…is because you either see what you missed out on, or what you were lucky enough to have. At first, you wonder, is this jealousy? Is this ego? Am I a bad person for thinking this way?"

"But then," She continued, "you see that it's neither of these things. Yes, you fantasize what could have been…perhaps you even envy having it. People having fun in ways you never had the chance to, friends experiencing things that you never got to join in with…" She bit down on her lip and continued, trembling, "A mother or a father, hugging their children."

"You understand that those things…you will never get to experience them. Ever again. You realise, this is not fair. You become sad. You become angry. And you should be. It's not fair. When you finally understand that, it breaks your heart…again. When you thought it was already too far gone…it only gets worse."

Opening her eyes, Charlie's growing tears were visible to them all. "You may grow a shell, a little coat that makes you think that you're safe from these feelings. You're not. They will come back, at any point. You ask yourself, what did I do to deserve this? Was I bad? Was I always broken? No matter how long you look, you will never find the answer."

"You will have no direction; no map or compass or guide. You just…won't know what to do. So, you find an obsession. A mission. A crusade. You look for those who think the same, who are like you; broken. Aimless. Scared. Hoping to find some sort of connection. All to fill that void in your heart that will never truly go away."

Taking a moment to compose herself, she looked back towards Cassidy. "So, Cassie…I don't know. I don't know if any of it was worth it in the end. What I do know…is that without you, and Gabe, and Jeremy, and Susie, and Fritz, and Dave and Mike and all the rest of our little family…that void would have claimed me a lifetime ago."

With an unknowable look. Cassidy gave a little sigh. "That…doesn't answer my question, Char."

"I know." Charlie admitted, "I'll tell you. I will. I promise…for what it's worth, I promise."

At some point in the morning, Mike approached Henry who handed him a set of documents. "Since you've been wondering…here it is. The product of our labor."

"Project Rebirth?" Mike asked plaintively as he began to read through.

"Project Rebirth." Henry confirmed, "The board have accepted our proposal."

Mike lowered the documents just low enough so that Charlie could read them, narrowing her eyes. "Jesus. So…that's that, then?"

"It is."

"So where do we go from here?"

"That, Mike," Henry explained with respect, "is where your part ends for now. I will keep you updated. Once it's time, I will contact you."

Mike tried not to look disappointed. "What about Blackwood?"

"They've lost their funding." He shrugged, "If they're smart, they'll slink back into the shadows."

As Mike finished speaking with Henry and the man left, he overheard Charlie summarising what she'd read. There were several collective groans from the news.

"Really?" Cassidy sniffed, "They're serious, aren't they?"

"They are." Mike confirmed as he led them back out of the lodge, "It's some sort of franchise self-starter. Not unlike Fazbear Frights."

"This is a stupid plan."

Gabriel shook his head. "Cassie, it's not that bad-"

"Nah, I agree." Fritz surprised them all, "How would this ever go well?"

"It won't." Mike answered that grimly, "That's why he's doing it. Whatever Henry has planned…it's not to bring them back."

"It's to end them." Charlie finished, a little glum, "Permanently."

"So that's that?" Susie blinked, "Where do we go from here?"

Jeremy shrugged, "I suppose that we just…let it happen."

"No."

All the souls stared at Mike, confused.

"If we want this done," Mike clarified, "we need to do it ourselves."

Dave frowned, confused. "But Mike…you heard him. He wants us out."

"Yeah," Cassidy acknowledged, "but when did we ever listen to what we were told?"

"My dad can't do this alone." Charlie agreed, a little hesitant, "He'll need our help."

"So…" Dave spoke with a clear attempt at understanding, "we hijack the plan? Go into business ourselves?"

"Only if everyone agrees." Mike offered but by the looks he got, he knew he didn't need to.

"We're with you, Michael." Charlie assured him, "Always."

He looked between each of their faces; former enemies. Friends forever. Family. The moment he had come back, he knew that this would be ride or die. I guess it could only ever end one place.

"So we're all in." Mike stated and they all straightened, ready.

"Until the end." Cassidy snorted.

"Well, then." Mike breathed, looking over the horizon. "I guess it's time for another five nights at Freddy's."


So with that Act 2 is complete. We're in the final stretch, now. I'm not sure when I'll be getting the next act started; it might be next week, it might be a little later.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: Giving Tyler his chance with the previous foes of the series was a good opportunity, since he has always been a bit of an outsider. He certainly handled himself well against them, in the end. Afton, of course, believed himself to be a leader of sorts. As it panned out, that meant very little. Truth was, though he hadn't fought something just like Afton before, Tyler has enough experience to adapt. I liked being able to revisit the Crucible, however brief, this time with Mike and Caine on the same page. They're not the same people as they were back their efforts culminating in Caine's successful gambit against Donovan, he got his and Mike's revenge for their failed one back in The Gift of Life with the Prometheus Protocol, which was a nice boon for them.