“Blane! I can’t hold it any longer!” Ta’Balshén called out. He was still maintaining The Zodiac’s Dragon form, replicating her exact appearance and strength. The only thing that didn’t change in Ta’Balshén’s replication was his thoughts, personality and voice.

“It’s ok buddy, I’m here ready to step in when you can’t any longer.”

The boy had for roughly the last five minutes been successfully keeping The Zodiac at bay, matching her strength.

The problem being, he was new to this and he soon struggled to maintain the copied form. Blane wasn’t wanting to get too involved in fear of hurting the wrong dragon in this case.

Ta’Balshén lunged for his final attempt, mouth first at an exposed neck. With his claws, he sunk them into the upper arms of The Zodiac, pinning them to her side and giving him proper leverage to clamp his jaws down.

He could feel The Zodiac squirm in agony, finding it difficult to push her doppelgänger off. Ta’Balshén suddenly let go and pushed himself away, leaving her to howl in pain. With a burst of adrenaline, The Zodiac pushed off and flew in to the air.

“I’m not letting her get away!” Ta’Balshén called out, chasing after her.

“No…! Balshén!” Blane called out. “I’m coming after you. Just take the amulet from her. She’ll lose her form. So will you, but I'll catch you!”

The two dragons went at it again, this time they were dangerously higher and out over Waconda Lake.

“The amulet!” Blane reminded him, flying close by, not quite sure who was who in this identical dragon sky brawl from where he was hovering.

Within a few minutes, the Ta’Balshén dragon found his chance to slash out at the amulet around The Zodiac, and ripped it from her. Instantly she reverted back to her human form, as did Ta’Balshén in direct response.

“Nooooooooooooo!” she screamed as she tumbled head over heel in the air, free falling.

Ta’Balshén was doing the same, and Blane rocketed down to catch up with him.

“I’ve got you kid,” Blane said as he grabbed his leg as he went round. He grabbed the teen’s arm and uprighted him, hugging him close. “Keep hold of that,” he said referring to the amulet that he still had a hold onto.

“We can’t let her die!”

“Leave it to me!” Blane changed course and soared down to catch up with The Zodiac. He grabbed her by the leg as it came round and banked towards the lake. “I hope you can swim lady!”

When they were in position a few hundred metres above the water, Blane let go and left her to fall the rest of the way, into the safety of the water.

“Will she…?”

“At this point kiddo, I don’t even care. Let’s get your feet back on the ground.”

***

“Brad.”

“Oh, so you remember me?” Proten feigned as he took a mental moment to take in what had become of his former best friend.

He was wearing a matching red camouflage utility jacket and pant combo that was heavy on the pockets, both on the chest and the legs. One of the legs of his pants was in the camo print whilst the other was in a plain red. The pockets on each pant leg were of the alternating fabric. He wore a bright yellow balaclava that started just above the eyebrows and stopped just under the chin.

But it was unmistakeably him. The eyes, they gave it away.

“Of course I do, I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The Secretary was stood, her hands tied behind her back. Her hair was tussled and hung over her face. Behind her stood her captors.

The former Red Cardinal and eight armed Purists.

“Ma’am, are you ok?” Proten asked.

She just nodded.

Despite the situation and what was happening around them- the explosions, gun fire and battle cries, it seemed to Proten that there was an air of calmness up on the roof- which was actually due to The Sheriff activating his forcefield around them.

“So what do I call you these days? Anton…? Or Guy?” Proten asked turning to the man in red.

“I’d prefer ‘Guy’ these days. Anton died a long time ago. It’s like I’m the Guy Phoenix to come from the ashes. Like the fire bird I always wanted to be. Do you remember that?”

“Release The Secretary,” The Sheriff impatiently ordered from behind Proten, not having time for the reunion.

“All in good time, Astral Sheriff. But if you could just be quiet for a bit though? I’m having a moment here with my old best bud. I’ve not seen him in years.” Guy falsely smiled at The Sheriff.

“That’s not my fault, Anto-Guy.”

“Not directly, I suppose,” Guy considered.

“Well, you have our undivided attention. Tell us what you’re dying to get off your chest and then let Madam Secretary go,” Proten said.

“I’m the one with the pointing guns so I’ll be saying how this goes down.”

“Yeah, ok. I see that Guy.” Proten looked at the armed men behind him. He was trying his best to be cool and reasonable, for The Secretary’s sake. In all honesty though, he felt sick and strangely really nervous. “Purists, eh? So what on earth's God damned path led you to them, of all people?”

“Funny story actually,” Guy said, rather emotionless despite his words. “Do you remember that day in LA on that witness escort duty? Well it turns out I was injected with some of one of the Mamba toxins. Not all of it, but enough to hurt me. And definitely mostly enough to scare the shit out of me if I'm being honest. To make me fear for my life. For my family. Hell, for The Collective too. I just didn’t know if it was going to kill me or change me.”

“So why run?” Proten asked, his brows furrowed, not understanding.

Guy exhaled. “Simply… it was fear. Maybe that's a bit cowardly, but as The Red Cardinal, I was something, right? Someone. And I didn’t want that to change and for you all to see me change. I didn’t want to lose my place on the team... And I most certainly didn’t want my family to see me go through that. I don’t think I was really thinking in that moment. Like, what is the right thing to do in that situation?”

Proten shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d probably want to be around the people I can trust. So did you change? You look alright to me,” Proten said.

“I started to, but I got help before it got too far.”

“From The Purists?” Proten asked, connecting the dots.

“Yes.” Guy took a few steps to the left, like he was giving a presentation. “I suppose we had a common enemy in The Mambas at the time. They were able to reverse some of the toxin’s effects on me, but… my disfigurements remained. Scaley forearms and chest, you know. I’ve tattooed over them now...”

“And what, they did this all out of the kindness of their hearts?”

“Well at first they of course didn’t know who I was. That was one good thing of my uniform. No one knew who I was underneath the stupid bird mask, so during my recovery they took me in. And over time, and the more I listened, the more I began to realise a few things about my life. And how you, Brad, and The Collective, were all to blame for putting me in the position where The Mambas ended up doing what they did to me.”

“Woah, let me stop you right there. You blame me for The Mambas sticking you and you deciding to run into the arms of the cultish Purists? Nah, I'm not having that! You’re deluded! You’ve been radicalised! Can’t you see that?”

“Oh please Brad! Don’t you remember when Rion died? How awful that was? We should have stopped then! But you led us down a path of righteousness and eventually onto The Collective. All this could have been avoided at that point in Baltimore, back in our dorm as we calmed ourselves down, don’t you see? And I wouldn’t have gone onto lose my family as a result!”

“The family you walked away from!” Proten yelled, losing his composure. “That’s not on me. That was a choice you made!” He pointed his finger at him as he shouted.

“Yeah, because of you! Aren’t you following?!” Guy yelled back. “We should have stopped when Rion died! We were out. Of. Our. Depth. Stupid, stupid fucking kids!”

Proten laughed in disbelief. “I remember us wanting to be better and to right those wrongs with Rion. We both wanted that. Everything we did was for him.”

“And I really wish we hadn’t. I really regret it. My own enhancements… the Black Mamaba’s artificially engineered enhancements… they’ve all just made things worse. So I guess I’m here to finally right those wrongs.”

Proten shook his head in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“That’s all very touching, but where does Du Zan come into all of this?” The Secretary finally asked, blowing hair out of her mouth.

Guy turned back to her. “Yes I thought you'd want to know that. Ok so pay attention, this is where it gets a bit tenuous. Since the attack on London and as the world became adjusted to the idea that life in outer space exists to the extent it does, Du Zan wanted to explore it. His company already offered lunar tours and had the technology to get to Mars… Only to lose out on a NASA contract to that fuck Ron Palmer. So he thought, why not do it anyway, eh?”

“Yeah we know all of that. But you were doing something specific weren’t you?” she pressed.

“Gee, we’re full of questions aren’t we?”

“Do you blame us?” snapped The Secretary, staring him dead in the eyes. “You make us think you were dead! You abandoned your son and wife to become some billionaire’s bitch! Hell yeah I have questions!”

Proten gave his boss a side eye, warning her to keep her cool. “What were you doing in China, Guy?” Proten asked calmly keeping the conversation going. “What was the plan?”

“She needs to keep her mouth shut if she doesn’t want a slap across it,” Guy snarled, staring at her.

“Don’t you dare,” The Sheriff warned stepping forward.

“Cool it everyone!” Proten said sternly. “Guy, listen to me. It’s fine. You don’t need to do that. Just talk to me. Why was Du Zan working with Purists?”

Guy jerked his head back towards Proten. “Du Zan wanted to take a… selection of enhanced beings with him on his mission. And simply, the Purists took the contract on to hu-collect them and I was the go between facilitating it. I didn’t have my enhancements so I wasn't able to do it myself so The Purists supplied the muscle.”

“You’re disgusting. You took people hostage from their lives to be forced to go to another planet?” The Secretary piped up again. “What the hell for?! War? Experimenta-”

Guy slapped her round the face causing her to fall to the ground, unable to balance herself with her hands behind her back.

“I told you I’d slap you round the face!” he yelled.

The Purists readied their weapons, but The Sheriff and Proten were just as quick to react.

Proten struck out at three of the eight armed men, sweeping them off the roof. With his other hand he reached out for Guy, and drew him closer to him.

At the same time, The Sheriff blasted his stardust beam as he lunged towards The Secretary. He deactivated his suit, which cancelled out the forcefield and he quickly put the suit’s badge onto The Secretary. It reactivated and covered her in the Astral Sheriff suit, breaking her hand ties in the process.

“You’re safe now,” he said to her.

“Sheriff?” she stuttered as he stood up to face The Purists. One of them lost his nerve upon seeing what he truly looked like underneath the armour and fired twice, hitting Do’Lânqwa first in the upper chest and second in the abdomen.

Proten released his hold of Guy and grabbed at the offending Purist with both hands at his shoulders. He flung him high into the sky, spinning off into the battlefield somewhere.

He could see The Secretary scramble over to a wounded Do’Lânqwa, moving like a new born lamb, new to the mechanics and feel of the suit she was in.

Proten refocused back onto Guy, reaching for him again while he too was watching in shock at the bleeding alien.

“You don’t need to keep grabbing at me! You were at least more gentle when we were kids,” Guy growled.

“Shut up. I just don’t want you flying away. Not after all this time.”

“Fly away? I can’t do that anymore Brad! Didn’t you hear me? I don’t have them anymore. The Purists cured me of that too. C'mon now!”

“What? So you can’t do any of what you used to do anymore?”

“Yeah, so get your hands off me!” He struggled back.

“Brad,” The Secretary cut in. “We need to get him off this roof. He’s bleeding badly,” she pleaded desperately.

“Incoming!” Holt called out as he narrowed in on the roof to Do’Lânqwa’s side, having heard the transmission.

Proten returned his gaze to Guy, who was now aiming some sort of tranquiliser injection gun square at his chest.

Proten started to nervously sweat. “Put that down, Guy.”

“Brad-” Holt started to say upon seeing what was happening, but Brad raised a silencing hand, conveying that he had it. Holt understood and silently flew off with The Secretary and Do’Lânqwa under each arm.

“That was unfortunate. I had wanted her to see this really,” Guy grumbled.

“What is it?”

“The way we can make this all right. Do what we should’ve done after Rion. To leave this life behind. Erase those regrets we have.”

“I don’t have any regrets Guy. Well… at least not in the way you think I ought to. Sure, I regret some things, but I know I’ve done great things with my enhancements. We did great things with them. And I’m proud of that.”

“Well I regret things, Brad. I regret following your lead. I regret becoming vulnerable to all the loss I’ve had. And this will help.”

“But what is it, Guy?”

“It’s a dose of what The Purists used to cure my enhancements. See, it’s like a nerve blocker. It was early in development but it’s being rolled out very soon. Kids all across the world will be able to come to clinics and be rid of their enhancements! To become pure. To live a life free of the harm that having enhancements will cause them. It was my idea, so parents can be safe in the knowledge that their kids won’t become fucked up by the unhuman things they can do with them. It’ll be great Brad, and you can be the poster boy for it! Show the world how awesome it is. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then I'll give it to Otto, so that there'll be no more Rions. So, now here it is for me to give to you. I want you to have it… You are going to have it for this to all work.”

Proten didn’t react at first. Then he burst out laughing. “Yeah… that’s not happening,” he said finally. He looked around behind him, at the destruction and fighting going on. “Is this what this was all about? To come here and give me your special medicine? You could have come to my apartment. I’ve not moved since you left. You could have knocked on the door, not knocked a hole in The Facility.”

“Well, that was Du Zan’s idea. He was desperate to get you back for blowing up his entire launch site and we came for the ride... kill a few birds with as few stones. Gettit? The Purists really just want you all dead.”

“Or cured?”

“Yeah, exactly. See! They’re not completely unreasonable.”

Proten snapped and punched him in the face, causing him to fall down. The injector gun dropped and clattered next to them. Proten jumped on top of Guy, sat on his chest and punched him thrice more for good measure.

“The Purists are the enemy Guy!” he yelled. "You have become the enemy!"

“Bullshit! I'm here to offer you a way out!” Guy growled, wriggling underneath Proten. “Just get off me!”

Proten looked down at his old friend and pulled off his balaclava, revealing his whole face properly. “Fuck, Guy. What have you done to yourself? Just look at you. At what you have become. You don't look great at all.” He stepped up off him and paced in a circle before tossing the yellow mask Guy had been wearing off the roof and into the chaos somewhere below.

Guy picked himself up and wiped his bloody mouth. The pair glared at each other. “It’s just the cost of making things better. You’ll see.”

Proten scanned the ground for the injector gun Guy had dropped. Shit. He looked back up at Guy, and sure enough he had it in his hands, aimed at him.

“For me, Brad. Your old friend?”

Proten reacted quick, snaking his torso to the side, out of aim of the injector gun. He snaked round and behind Guy who couldn’t react quick enough. He probably could have if he still had his enhancements.

With one arm, Brad reached for the wrist of the arm Guy was holding the weapon with, coiling his own arm around it.

Guy’s arm started to spasm with the tightness.

With Brad’s other hand, he wrapped it around Guy’s neck and tightened it. He kept squeezing, despite the gurgling his former friend was making.

The thing is, Proten desperately told himself, this wasn’t even his former friend any more.

He was someone completely different.

He had to forget that this was once Anton.

Anton died...

And Guy was a threat.

The gun clattered to the floor again but Brad kept chocking, snaking back round to Guy’s front.

“Weee... could ha.....have been frrrrriends... a...ga..again!” Guy stuttered, his face reddening, his eyes bulging and his mouth frothing as his saliva in his mouth had nowhere to go.

Proten grunted in disgust. "We said goodbye… we said goodbye to you. This is the only way this ends.”

Proten squeezed more.

It felt like a long time had passed, but it was just a couple of minutes.

After which, he felt his old friend go limp.

Proten retracted his coiled limbs to regular length and let Guy’s lifeless body fall to the floor in a heap.

He caught his breath and stared at what had become of Guy.

Who was he kidding? This was his old friend. The buddy he shared a room with at school. Shared a life with for years through school and beyond. Shared the answers for homework with. Cheered for each other at sports competitions. Cheered each other up with pizza after break ups with girlfriends. Did media interviews with. Fought side by side with... They'd done it all.

He caught the tear that rolled down his face.

He’d just killed his friend. An old friend. But a deranged, former friend. Someone he cared about, once, nonetheless.

And it hurt.

***

During the action on the rooftop, the members of The Collective at The Facility worked hard and fast with the Air Force Squadron based on site.

Proten stepped down off the roof to see the fighting had stopped. Those Purists and Du Zan’s private army who weren’t dead or out cold were lined up against walls restrained in cable ties.

Weapons were gathered and piled in heaps ready for melting down another time. Fire crews were dealing with fires from the downed helicopters courtesy of Mindy and Holt’s airborne combat, and there were Search and Rescue teams entering the buildings looking for unaccounted members of staff in the rubble.

Having used Do’Lânqwa’s touch from his unconscious hand to release her from his suit, The Secretary watched as he was airlifted to a military hospital for treatment.

She walked towards Brad, concerned by the look on his face.

“Are you alright? What happened? Where’s Guy?”

“Guy… Anton, whoever the fuck he is. He's... dead.” Proten exhaled deeply.

The Secretary looked at him sympathetically. “Alright, we can talk about it later, ok?” Now wasn't the time and by the look on his face, this was not the time to get into it.

“He had this pointed at me though,” he said, producing the injector gun that Guy was pointing at him. “Said it would cure me of my enhancements.”

She took it and examined it. “I thought that was stuff of myth.”

“Apparently not,” he sighed. “It's going to be rolled out apparently. We're going to have to deal with it."

"We will," she said.

"Are you ok? Did he hurt you?”

“Just roughed me up a little. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’re a tough cookie, Ma’am.” They weakly smiled at each other as they walked together to join the rest of The Enhanced Beings Collective stood around.

“Is my dad going to be alright?” Ta’Balshén asked The Secretary.

“He’ll be in good hands. We’ll get you to him as soon as we can,” she responded gently touching his cheek.

“Trendsont is up in Safe Haven still,” he reminded them.

“It’s ok dude, we’ll go up and get him now,” assured Mindy. “Then you can both see your dad together.”

“Amazing job out there though, Balshén,” Brad said. “I had no idea what you could do, but seriously, that was impressive stuff.”

“Definitely,” Blane agreed. “You did great,” he insisted, ruffling his hair. “We’ll see you all later. We’ll go and rescue the little man now. We did good today. We should be proud.” With that, the three triplets took off into the sky, somehow finding the energy to make the flight.

“Are you alright, Terri?” Brad asked. He noticed that she was looking a bit distant and distracted. “You’re not stressed about Fo’Vylrian are you? We’ll get him again.”

“Oh, I’m alright. It’s just been a long day. And yeah, I’m sure we’ll catch up with him soon enough. He’s scary though. The things he can do to people… I've not seen anything as horrifying. And he’s in the hands of The Purists now. We’ll have to be smart about it.”

“We always are.”

“So,” said Terri, changing the conversation. “What happened on the roof? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not now. Ask me again in a couple of days.”

“You know where I am though, ok? I’ll make sure to check in with you but reach out whenever you need.”

“Sure thing, Ter. Thanks.”

***

In the hours that passed, The Collective had gathered in a temporary tented command centre the Air Force had set up. Kimona and Tobias were on video link via the big screen debriefing with the others.

“How’s Ulrika?” Terri had asked.

“Once Kim knew that the bad guys were you know… dead, she got us out through a Moses parting. It was pretty cool,” Tobias said with a big grin on his face.

“But Ulrika’s alright?” Terri asked again, not really getting an answer the first time.

“Yeah, she’s good. Gone to Walter Reed, I think. Did the Sheriff go there too?”

“Yeah,” she answered.

“Thanks for staying on at The Lodge,” The Secretary said to Kimona.

“S'alright. I was in a better position to help here anyway.” Kimona said dismissively.

“When has the military commander said you could go?” The Secretary asked, not detecting the bluntness.

“About an hour ago, but I’ve decided I’m going to stay on with the Warriors.”

“What?” Dylan blurted out. “Why would you want to do that?”

“We’re not that bad,” Tobias said defensively.

“No, sorry. I know that. I’m just surprised she’d stay.”

“You know you don’t have to Kimona? I don't expect that of you. We’ll be able to sort something out so you can go back to Miami,” offered The Secretary.

Tobias tilted his head and looked up at Kimona, unsure whether he should be offended.

“I don’t want to go back to Miami at the moment. I want to be here where I can be of some help,” she responded curtly.

“Very well,” her boss said. "I'll email you later about authorising a transfer."

“Don’t let Tobias trick you into tidying the place up. Not even Ulrika would go near his suite!” Dylan said jokingly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be going over some ground rules later with him!” she said, putting her arm around his shoulder and bringing him into her.

Sirens in the distance turned The Collective’s attentions away from Kimona and Tobias on the screen, as a uniformed soldier came into the makeshift war room.

“Ma’am,” he said addressing The Secretary. “Amber Hamilton is on site.”

Brad heard The Secretary curse under her breath. “Very well, I’ll go and meet with her.”

“Ma’am, she wants to address the whole Collective.”

“Does she now?” she muttered. The soldier turned sharply and left the room and was soon back to show Amber Hamilton in.

“Ma’am, welcome,” The Secretary said with a faux warmth that not even Amber herself saw through.

“I prefer you call me 'Ms Hamilton', if you can remember that,” Amber insisted as she took The Secretary’s hand. “That way, we know who’s in charge.” The members of The Collective looked on awkwardly.

Amber Hamilton was the Secretary in charge of the Department for Homeland Security, of which The Enhanced Beings Collective was an off shoot of. This meant that whilst each of The Secretarys were in charge of their own departments, like sisters, Amber Hamilton was the older sister and had a slight seniority, that wasn’t often exploited.

“Is everyone okay after today?” she asked the room. They nodded in return, no one comfortable enough to speak up. “Good. I’ll get to the point. I’m being tasked with overseeing the running of The Collective as part of my Homeland Security responsibilities.”

“Amber, can we talk about this in private first?” The Secretary asked, dropping ranks and looking visibly exhausted.

“No, Vedhika. Your team are going to need to know what’s happening anyway, and there’s no discussion to be had about it.”

“Well, why?” Brad asked, speaking up.

“There’s been a lack of faith in Vedhika’s management of this department and so from now on I will be overseeing what happens more closely.”

“Well I rather would’ve preferred to have had this conversation in private first. There’s little dignity in the way you’ve delivered this,” The Secretary fumed.

“We’ve not lost faith in The Secretary,” Dylan piped in, speaking up for his boss.

“In light of the delay in action in Rio De Janeiro, the shambles that was the management over London, the useless handling over Brad and Lucas leading to his death and then the subsequent drama with Don Waters… Then this year letting Do’Lânqwa feel like he can make decisions which impa-”

“Enough!” The Secretary shouted, clearly embarrassed. Sure, they weren’t career highlights for her, but she definitely felt they had sorted themselves out and certainly had no indication that they had caused a lack of faith to be had in her abilities. “We're all exhausted after today. Just get to your point.”

“I’m just making it very clear that things will be changing around here. There’s no more of what you’ve come to be used to in The Collective. We’ll start properly in two months. Until then, goodbye.”