Once we had parted ways, I got into my black and red school uniform and grabbed a quick shower, making my way straight to class. I tried the door to classroom 3-B, but it didn’t budge. “Locked?” I was in the habit of going to homeroom earlier than most of my classmates, but I had never beaten our teacher, Mr. Maki, there before.

I leaned against a nearby row of lockers and watched the other early birds pass by. I resorted to reviewing my notes to distract myself. I needed any escape I could get; I expected it would be an awkward day. I hadn’t told anybody what had happened Friday night between Mariko, Paul, and I, and not only to tease Rose. It was for the sake of my cover. Nobody else needed to know I’d been out in the woods in the dead of night on the night of Haru’s murder. It was bad enough that Kiyo thought I’d been hauled off by the headmaster, which had been Maggie in a magical disguise. Somebody was bound to have known where he really was that night, and I wanted to avoid any dangerous questions.

More time passed, and there was still no sign of the Divine Blade. Further down the hall, I saw other groups waiting outside of the other classrooms. All of us students milled about awkwardly, not sure how to proceed.

Mariko was the last to arrive. I had half expected her not to show up, and I wondered how close she had come to skipping. She was still in poor shape, and I wondered when she had finally stopped crying over Paul. The older girl had bags under her eyes made me think of Kiyo after an all-nighter. Something else was off, and it took me a moment to realize that she hadn’t braided her chocolate-brown hair. I’d never seen her wear it loose before. If she didn’t seem so deflated, I might have called it a good look.

I wasn’t the only one who seemed to detect something was off. “Good morning, Mariko,” said Hiro brightly. “Did you do something different with your hair today? I’ve never seen you in another style.”

She forced a smile on her face and giggled playfully. “Oh, that? I didn’t feel like braiding it this morning. You shouldn’t pay me too much mind. What would Yukiko think?”

“She would think he was worried about a friend,” replied Yukiko. “Are you sure you’re okay? Soren implied something happened.”

That earned me a sour look from her. Blast it all, I hadn’t wanted to be involved. “I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s mostly true,” said Yukiko. “Even if Soren hadn’t, we’d have been worried. You look awful; tell us about it.”

Mariko clutched her bookbag to her chest. “There’s nothing you can do about it. Don’t worry about me.”

“You can say that all you like, but it won’t stop us from being concerned,” said Yukiko.

Mariko’s face fell. “Yukiko, please leave it alone. I just want to lay low and think about things.”

Yukiko straightened up and I saw a little of the old Yukiko’s imperiousness shine through. “I’m here for you, as your friend and your class representative. If you won’t tell me as the first, I might have to act as the second. We are all a team here, and we are only as strong as our weakest link.”

It amazed me sometimes how young Ms. Sato could mix the absolute right and wrong things to say all at once. You could see Mariko erect her emotional walls. “That’s what people care about, isn’t it? I’m just here to be a cog in the machine.” Mariko screwed her eyes shut and sighed. “Don’t you worry, Ms. Class Rep. My grades aren’t going to slip.”

Yukiko’s hand flew to her mouth. “Mariko, wait, I didn’t mean it like-”

Yukiko’s apology was cut off by a loud tone from the loudspeakers above. Headmaster Tachibana’s voice echoed through the halls. “Will all students please report to the main assembly hall for an announcement? I repeat, please report to the main assembly hall. Do not wait for your teachers, and follow your Class Representative’s instructions.”

“I suppose Mr. Maki didn’t just sleep in,” I said.

“I guess not,” said Hiro, concern written on his face.

Yukiko jumped into action gesturing towards the elevators. “Alright everyone, you heard the headmaster! Let’s get going!”

She looked triumphant as we all shuffled our way down the hall. They had ignored her orders before in the aftermath of the War Game incident. It seemed that patching things up with our circle had gotten the other students listening again.

I didn’t often see the whole student body in one place, and it surprised me that you could fit all of us in a small space. The school operated at partial capacity, since Headmaster Tachibana had designed the school for future wizards who hadn’t been born yet.

We were separated out by class. I could tell the second years apart on sight, since they wore their white and green cadet uniforms at all times instead of our black and red civilian school uniforms. They would have still stood out, even if they’d dressed like us; there was a certain air about them, like a spring ready to release its pent-up energy. I remembered that they were about to graduate into the Wizard Corps service after the exams at the end of August, and they probably looked forward to their first battle. The poor fools.

Rose had snagged a seat next to me. “If all of the teachers were gone, this can’t be anything good. Do you think it’s the Holy Brotherhood again?”

“Couldn’t be,” I replied. I would have hoped Maggie would tell me first. Regardless, I doubted even Haru’s death would have prompted the whole staff to be whisked away.

The lights dimmed and a hush went over the theater. An enormous screen lowered itself from the ceiling, and a projector mounted high above came to life, as a stirring John Philip Sousa march blared over the speakers. It was Hands Across the Sea, if memory serves. Text in Japanese, English, and a script I didn’t recognize filled the screen. The part I could read declared in bold characters that the following was a presentation from the Anti-Demonic League Ministry of Public Education.

“Ah, good old-fashioned propaganda,” I whispered to Rose. She shushed me and I deigned to pay attention.

The music’s volume dipped to let a booming voice be heard. The camera, mounted on what I assumed was a flying drone, panned across the dim outline of a warship. “The Straits of Malacca, shortly after midnight on Saturday, the Eighth of August, 2050. As always, the USS Alabama forms part of the thin line between civilization and the barbarism of the Grim Horde. Because of their tireless efforts, the citizens of the island of Sumatra can sleep easy.”

I’ll give the Ministry of Public Education this, they knew how to edit. Between the announcer, the music and the camerawork, I found myself almost admiring the brave crew of the ship, and they hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Yet, in the nearby Malaysian Peninsula, the forces of darkness have gathered. Millions of orcs, goblins, and devils work to man their boats, with one common goal.”

“To not get flogged by their superior officers,” I quipped at Rose.

That earned me a light smack on the arm. “That isn’t funny, Soren!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I said. I needed something to lighten the mood. The hopeful tone of the narration and music told me they weren’t about to report another Grim Horde victory. One doesn’t like to see the home team lose, even if it was partially my doing.

My contact at home, Fera, had informed me of a danger to my faster, Malthus the Elder, the Grand Vizier of the Dark Lord. His position in the court was threatened by the ascendance of Grand General Beez of our Far East command, and retirements at that level of power tend to involve a pine box. To seal his power, Beez had prepared for a land invasion to add Sumatra to the Horde’s territory. A pity that a certain handsome young devil had whispered about it to Maggie Edwards.

It seemed Maggie’s message had gotten through to the right ears. I should have felt triumphant, but dread gnawed away at my stomach. After all, I’d very nearly gone down in such a boat when I’d been part of the English invastion

My nose curled. Sympathy? Another of my frailties that had been awoken from a long slumber dallying about with these humans. After all, another devil had leaked the information, and I doubted my dear semi-fiancée Fera would be the least bit troubled by what I was about to witness.

The announcer continued, giving me a way out of my inner turmoil. “Around 1 AM, the first wave of boats sets out. Filled with expendable goblins and kobolds, their objective is to clear the thousands of mines that fill the straights.” The drone swung about, its night vision camera momentarily blinded as the first crew of goblins met their fate. If Grand General Beez’s forces behaved like ours had, there would only be two or three of the lesser races per boat and, of course, no devils.

The crowd of students roared in approval. I joined in belatedly, not wanting to seem like the odd man out. I wondered how many of them thought to question the convenient camera drone. It was obviously a setup.

“Eventually, the first of the Horde Ships break through the minefield. Too bad for them that the Alabama is ready and waiting!” The main cannons of the destroyer lashed out, along with numerous lighter arms. “The primitive technology of the Horde is no match for human engineering knowhow!”

A moment into the barrage, the sky filled with hundreds of overlapping energy barriers. Shells designed to destroy warships exploded harmlessly in midair. They looked like a Svalinn’s Mercy, though many times the size. The average devil has many times the magical reserves of a human wizard, so our spells tend to be grander in scale. We also didn’t have to pace ourselves like human wizards did. There were probably more lower-born devils bobbing around in those rowboats than all of the active duty wizards in the Corps.

The drone’s camera feed cut out and was replaced by video from a more distant camera with a telephoto lens. “Jamming fabricata are also deployed, rendering our electronics useless. As always, the cowardly Grim Horde has to get by on magic.” Funny, we always said the same thing about human technology. “Built on simpler, World War II era designs, the Alabama fights on, punishing the waves of enemy landers. Despite her crew’s gallantry, the Alabama is soon in danger of being overwhelmed.”

An enormous gash cleaved through the water, looking like the parting of the Red Sea. The resulting waves capsized dozens of boats, sending many unfortunate armor-clad soldiers beneath the waves. The camera zoomed in, showing Mr. Maki’s Sonic Blade wreathing his arm as he strode about the deck of the Alabama. The applause and hollering from the assembled Nagoya students was deafening, with Hiro cheering the loudest of them all. They nearly drowned out the next part. “However, the Wizard Corps is on hand to put an end to that!”

A flurry of images filled the screen in quick succession. A dozen propeller-powered bombers unleashed their payloads against the attacking vessels. Helicopters and transport planes flew in after them, and spell circles filled the air as human wizards cast counter-magic to weaken the devils’ defenses. The camera switched from a pale green night vision to regular light; between the explosions and the constant barrage of spell and counter spell, the moonlit night looked like high noon.

“For a hundred of kilometers across the strait, much the same story plays out.” More rapid images, all of them showing human triumph and demonic defeat. Dozens of fights had been spliced together. One unfortunate human ship found itself swarming in devils, but a powerful wind spell sent them all flying overboard.

Rose gripped my arm and pointed excitedly. “That’s the HMS Northampton! I bet that was Albert!”

“Yes, I imagine so,” I said in a shaky voice, gripping my other armrest tightly.

I’d wanted this, of course. Their deaths were necessary to save Father and get myself one step closer to home. I’d known the consequences of these political games. I simply hadn’t expected to be shown them in high definition. All I could think was that save for the capricious grace of Our Father Below, that could have been the Wizard Corps sending me to a watery grave.

“The fight continues for hours. Many brave sailors and soldiers give their lives in defense of humanity, but as the sun rises, the only monsters left in the Strait of Malacca are the sharks.” An image of a grey-skinned orc clinging to a piece of driftwood came up on the screen, and the students laughed as the poor brute was dragged underwater by a tiger shark. “And they’ll eat like kings for weeks.”

I heard a distressed cry to my left. Mariko had covered her face long before, and the students who noticed her shot her dirty looks. No wonder they thought she was a demonkin.

The footage found Mr. Maki again as he helped a wounded sailor onto a transport helicopter. They loved to use him for photo ops. “Remember what has been lost, but also remember that we will still win. Because-”

The feed buffered for a moment. At first I thought it was simply a technical glitch, but the buffering image coalesced into a familiar symbol of a demonic skull impaled by a sword.

“The Holy Brotherhood,” spat Hiro from the seat in front of me.

“I speak for the Holy Brotherhood of Mankind,” said the dour voice of Holy Brother Ratte, one of Maggie’s old friends. “I will not keep you long. You are celebrating now, and you should. This is a great victory for the world, but it was not won as cheaply as that film implied.” New images flashed over the screen of enormous demonic spells devouring helicopters and of a burning vessel that was nearly the Alabama’s twin. “We lost five warships and dozens of aircraft. The League left that out of its report. You are the wizards of tomorrow. Why did they hide that from you?” More images of crashing airplanes and orcs swarming warships filled the screen. He waited a moment so that his words could have their intended impact. Distressed whispers from the students filled the room.

“They want you to think that the war is going well,” he continued. “It is not. The Corps won by the skin of their teeth, and only because of information provided by the Holy Brotherhood. Without our intelligence, the Horde would be marching into Medan as we speak. To the people of Sumatra, you are most welcome. Remember who will take the steps needed to save the world, while the League cowers in fear, imagining itself safe far from the front lines. The Holy Brotherhood is the spark that will burn down the Grim Horde. Join us and become part of the solution! Humanity First!”

He certainly made a fine case! If I hadn’t already signed up, I would be asking about membership dues. I wondered if Ratte would have been so enthusiastic if he’d known the information came from a devil? I decided the Holy Brothers were more than willing to use our tools if it suited them, so I doubted he’d care much.

The feed cut back to the Wizard Corps’ film. “-ember, we’re in this together! Everything you can do, great and small, will save the day. Buy Wizard Corps Bonds! Reduce, reuse, recycle! Together, we will overcome!”

The lights came on and, far too late to matter, the hacked video stream ended. The good mood was completely dashed by the intrusion of the Holy Brotherhood, which was of course the intended effect. Confusion reigned, and an order from the Headmaster sent us back to our dorm rooms. We were told we were confined to our own rooms for our safety due to increased Brotherhood activity.

We walked in stunned silence until we reached the elevator. “They don’t want us talking about it,” said Rose, with a scowl.

“That’s the only way to stop their propaganda,” replied Yukiko. “Keep us from spreading it among ourselves.”

“It won’t help,” said Hiro. “You don’t stop lies with silence. You stop them with the truth.”

“What if they weren’t lying?” I asked. “If those were fake photos, they were awfully convincing.”

“They had to be,” said Hiro. “The Holy Brotherhood are monsters!”

“You were all just laughing at that orc while sharks ripped him to pieces,” said Mariko, looking physically ill. “We aren’t any better.”

Rose looked aghast. “Sure we are. We’re defending ourselves! They’re the invaders here! Demons deserve whatever comes to them.”

Mariko sighed. “Just forget it.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” barked Rose. “If you really want to defend demons, tell me why I should feel bad for them.”

“It was a thinking being.” said Mariko, gripping her hands together tightly.

“Yes, thinking about killing everyone in Sumatra! My brother Albert was in the fighting there!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I don’t know what happened to him. I need to call home!”

I was grateful when we got to my floor. At first I’d hated the idea of being confined to my dorm room. However, if it meant getting away from that argument, I’d go gladly. Silence was safer. I didn’t dare give anything other than full-throated approval of the slaughter I’d just witnessed.

“Don’t worry, Soren,” said Hiro. “We’ll get those Holy Brothers someday. They can’t keep getting away with this.”

“Hopefully not,” I replied. Though, I hoped the day of reckoning would occur when I was safely back in Pandemonium.