“It would seem that the old men have continued their project.”

Dark clouds consumed the sky, blotting out the rising sun. Rain poured out of the heavens, drenching the city. Two men stared out the window. One sat at a desk, the other stood next to him. Master’s elbows rested on the wooden surface, his hands intertwined with each other, covering his mouth. The room was dark, the only light came from a small desk lamp. Its bulb wavered against the darkness. A picture of a woman sat at the corner of the desk. Her smile had been bound to the frame for years, never to escape. Percival had a similar picture on his desk. He could see the picture of her as clear as day.

Percival stood with his hands behind his back. His voice was still sore from yelling at the kids. “Hard to imagine they can continue without the top scientists and the child,” the butler replied.”

Master nodded, “Indeed. However, there has been talk of an up and coming scientist in Iceland.”

Percival looked down at the man. “Surely he has nothing to do with the original project,” the butler worried.

“No,” confirmed Master. “His work is independent. But no less dangerous.” Rain pelted the window, turning the cityscape into a blur.

The idea of the Imperial Council being ahead of them terrified the butler. All of their hard work would be for nothing. “Then we must move quickly. Before the Council has the ch-”

“I have already made a call to London. It would be unwise to get directly involved right now.” Lightning flashed followed by the explosion of thunder. “We will finish everything before the Imperial Council recognizes our true intentions.” Car horns echoed off of skyscrapers, supplementing the chorus of the storm.

Percival didn’t share Master’s confidence. Not after what he saw from Edward. In Percival’s opinion, Edward was a liability more than an asset.

“What is the matter, Percival? You seem troubled.” Master side-eyed his long-time colleague.

Percival sighed, of course, he would notice his gripe. The butler closed his eyes and reached for the proper words. “I worry about Edward.” Percival paused. Gauging Master’s reaction. His eyes fixated on the outside.

“Speak openly, please,” Master interrupted the pause.

The butler nodded, “I feel as if… as if Edward’s heart is not in our cause.”

The man stared ahead, unfazed by the doubt. “His loyalties are right where they should be. It matters not that he believes I am evil. All that matters is that he finishes our project with the belief that it will enable him to be with his brother.” Master pulled open his desk drawer and placed the picture within the wooden enclosure. “Continue with Eiden’s distractions, he needs to spread as much chaos as possible in the coming weeks. Edward will continue his assignment at Carolina State Institute. ”

Percival bowed, “Yes, Master. For the Empire”

“For our Empire, Percival. We shall crush those who believe that they could be god. Our Empire shall not pass onto anyone else.”

***

Percival walked amongst the crowd. Large columns rose into the sky, holding up a glass and steel dome. Walls were absent from the structure, food carts lined the perimeter. The smell of smoke and baked goods permeated the air. The downpour ended some time ago, yet clouds continued to choke out the sun. Bitter wind rushed through the plaza. The man hid under a heavy wool scarf and a light heavy coat. He pulled the top hat closer to his eyes. Percival yawned into his hand, the man missed his morning coffee. There was much to prepare. Ahead of him was the underpass that led directly to the train station.

It was odd being out in public for Percival, after so much time spent cooped up in the tower. To the butler, nothing had changed. Perhaps a few more worried faces here and there, but nothing substantial. The world moved on, no matter how much Percival wished it didn’t. After what they were about to do, the world could no longer ignore them.

A horn blared in the distance, followed by the screech of tracks. A buzz erupted in his ear. “We just pulled into the station; sabotaging tracks now,” Henry alerted him.

“Make it quick, the Governor’s Car just turned onto Station Road,” Baethen barked.

Eiden scoffed through the speaker, “I give the orders here Baethen.”

Percival could hear Alexa rolling her eyes through the radio, “Ready to lock down and to raise hell.”

The butler pretended to scratch his ear. With a finger he pressed against his earpiece, opening the channel, “About to enter the underpass.”

Everyone was in position, excellent, Percival thought. If he was honest with himself he had his doubts when Eiden first proposed the plan. It was daring to infiltrate the building during hours of operation, yet they did it, no less to Cassius’ history with smuggling elicit British and French goods into Wilmington.

The butler’s boots stepped into the underpass, splashing puddles as he went. The wind died down and smoke clogged air replaced it. The old man erupted into a coughing fit, his lungs fought against the poison. He reached for a gas mask that had long been absent from the man, he reminded himself that he wasn’t in Mexico anymore.

Percival ascended the steps, the main entrance of the Raleigh Union Station greeted him. He was not ten yards from the doors when the ground started to shake. A horn blared, warning everyone to stand clear. The train rumbled down the tracks, its lights pierced the dull atmosphere with bright yellow light. The train passed him and with it his hat. The butler lunged for the piece of concealment, but to no avail. The wind just took it out of reach. Percival panicked, people would for sure recognize him. He watched helplessly as the hat drifted deeper into the sea of people.

Without warning, a mop of dark brunette leaped and snatched the forlorn garment out of the air. The man observed the girl as the crowd brushed past him. She looked around until her eyes locked with his. Percival swallowed hard as she approached him. A sickening feeling filled his stomach, he had no choice but to wait for her. He’d rather not try his luck without it, not when every inch of the station was in view of a guard. There was something terribly wrong, something he couldn’t describe. It wasn’t her clothes which were a long olive green winter coat, accompanied by an orange-red scarf and gloves. It had to have been her faint smile- no. She was right on top of him, he could hear her humming. It was barely audible, but it was there.

“Sorry to bother you sir, but I believe this is yours,” her tone was soft yet confident. The girl held out his hat without a qualm. Grey met amber. It was her eyes, they were so much like Eiden’s. She blinked, “Sir?”

Percival blinked, heat rose to his cheeks. He hadn’t realized how long he had been staring. A shaky version of the girl’s demeanor spread across his face. “Thank you, miss.”

Her eyes felt like they pierced right through him, he expected her to get the closest officer and report him. Yet her face spoke to the contrary. She started to say something further, but the shriek of his comm deafened him. “Percival where are you? Talin is about to pull into the station,” Eiden growled.

His eyes went wide, he threw on his hat. “Sorry miss, but I must get going,” he apologized.

The girl nodded, with no hint of suspicion she said, “I understand.”

The butler turned toward the door, but a question popped into his mind: what was her name? But when he turned back she was already gone. A bitter wind cut across his face.

The butler entered the station, to his right was a spiral staircase, on the other side of the atrium was the ticketing as well as the concourse to the train platform. “I am in the Station, on my way to ticketing,” he informed Eiden. Each step brought him closer to his objective and closer to the army of reporters and guards.

“The Governor exited the vehicle, he is guarded by Havoc squad and the Dame,” Baethen informed.

His pace quickened. The ticketing booths were vacant despite the crowd, to his surprise. Surely Cornelia didn’t completely lock down the trains. Of the counters, he chose the one with the youngest clerk. Percival took a deep breath as he approached the booth.

“Hurry! Cornelia isn’t wasting any time,” Alexa warned.

The young man looked at him with dismay, “I’m sorry sir, but boarding is temporarily closed until the Governor is on his way.”

“I must get the next train if you would just-” he started.

The young man shook his head, “No exceptions, Dame’s orders.”

The butler pressed his mouth into a firm line. “Percival! The Governor is entering the building,” Alexa warned.

Percival sighed, Master, told him not to use his trump card as much as possible. He would have to make an exception; it was just a lowly clerk, Cornelia nor the Imperial Council would find out. The butler reached into his coat. The man’s hand shifted under the lip of the desk. Probably hovering over the panic button, he deduced. Percival pulled out a silver pocket watch, attached by a chain to the inside pocket. Engraved on it was an eagle with seven wings and seven talons. The eagle gripped a stone of black onyx in his claws.

The clerk’s face paled. After a short pause, he scrambled behind his desk. With a shaky hand, he handed the butler a boarding pass. The man apologized profusely as Percival walked away.

He returned the watch to its place and walked with haste toward the line of guards. He shoved his way through the press, each asking millions of questions. He could just make out Cornelia’s boots clicking over the noise. She was close.

The butler made his way to the front of the pack, coming face to face with a guard. The final obstacle. Percival held the executive pass up to the guard. The man hid behind a riot helmet, but he could feel contempt emanating from him.

Cornelia was getting closer. He couldn’t see her around the corner, but he was sure she was coming. She just needed to be a bit closer to spring the trap. “Where are you?” Eiden hissed.

His eyes narrowed at the guard.

He could hear Cornelia talking.

The guard stepped aside, carving out a gap in their line of defense.

Percival didn’t hesitate and crossed into the trap. The high ceilings of the waiting area were replaced with cramped ones. The reporters started to ask him questions, the man ignored them. He focused on the Dame and her retinue. Green met grey.

Cornelia stopped her group with a wave of her hand. She did not look as surprised as Percival thought she’d be. Percival stood alone in front of the terminal, staring down the Dame, Havoc Squad, and the Governor. There were several things wrong with the image before him, not only was it the Dame’s lack of response, the sheer lack of security, but most of all that man in the midst of the squad was not Talin.

The hopes of inflicting a blow on the Empire withered away. Cornelia took notice of his realization and seemed to repress a smirk. “Have you nothing to say?” She asked.

Percival remained silent. His eyes flicked to the vent above him, then back at her. There was nothing but static on the comm. The butler raised his hand to warn them but was stopped short.

Cornelia along with the rest of her squad raised their weapons at him, daring him to move further. “Well suit yourself. Evacuate the Station, Havoc Leader.” The Staff Sergeant closest to her peeled off from the group and headed for the bewildered press. “Arrest this terrorist and find the others.”

She knew that they were going to attack. The man cursed SCIL for putting her on high alert. That wretched group refused to die. A pair of Lance Corporals started for him. He had to warn Eiden before he committed to-

The building was bathed in red light. Security shutters sealed the windows behind the Dame. The shutters would go on and lock down all entrances and exits. The civilians unfortunate enough to be inside screamed. The soldiers halted their advance and looked back at their commander. The Dame’s confidence began to crack. The trap was sprung. Cassius and Anna had infiltrated the control room. The timer had begun. As they held onto that room they would all be trapped in the facility.

Several pairs of footsteps came running from behind him. Henry’s group (Kevin, Vitus, Eleanor, Felix, and Robert) entered the fray, clad in full baggage boy and maid attire. They raised their weapons at the disorganized enemies. Percival noticed one was missing: Vitus. Where had that man gone?

“At least they are making it easy for us to find them, god knows where they hide,” Cornelia remarked.

Percival looked at Henry with earnest, “Henry-” The vent above started to rattle before plummeting to the ground. Eiden followed not long after it, along with a plume of dust.

“You cut it a bit close,” Eiden growled. The guards, the special forces, and the Dame swung their guns on the teen. Percival didn’t disagree, but surely he could see something was amiss.

“Eiden-” he tried to warn him.

“I was wondering when you would show up, now where is the third one?” Cornelia called out. Was she talking about Master? No. It had to have been Edward, Percival concluded.

Eiden scoffed, “Stop stalling and hand over Talin, or there will be fewer people alive here than before.”

The Dame was not intimidated. “Unfortunately for you, the Governor isn’t here.” Guards started to close the distance. She countered with her own threat, “Surrender now and you might get to see tomorrow.”

Eiden looked at Percival with a mixture of anger and distress. The butler broke the news to him, “That isn’t the Governor, whoever saw him miss identified.” Eiden’s eyes went wide.

“Baethen,” Henry said in a hushed voice.

Percival nodded. “Where is Vitus, Henry?”

Henry looked towards the tunnel, “He should be here soon, why?”

“It will take all of us to escape.” Percival wasn’t confident about their ability to escape, but they had no other choice. They lost.

“What are we going to do? This is so much worse than the Gala,” Eleanor said with despair.

He couldn’t answer that. Their leader was shaking, his fists balled tight. If they were to get out with their lives, Eiden needed to be focused. “Eiden-”

“Shut up,” he hissed. The teen stood straight and walked to the front of his organization. “We are not running away.”

The butler was about to object before the Dame reaffirmed his fears.

“There is no getting out of this; we have the building surrounded. This is the end.” Cornelia willed them to give up. “You will never threaten the Governor or anyone ever again.” She inched forward, sword in hand. The sword looked different than the one she had at their last engagement.

An additional commando squad poured out of the office block opposite of the ticketing booths. The guards that were holding off the press to their right blocked any escape through the atrium. Who knew how many were on the train platform behind them, Percival thought.

Eiden looked far from giving up. Anger swelled in his face. “The end, you say? Don’t be ridiculous.” The teen tossed aside his pistol and walked closer towards the Dame. “It doesn't matter that Talin isn’t here…”

Cornelia took a step back and pointed her sword squarely at his chest. A soldier demanded him to halt.

Eiden stopped a few yards away from the Dame. “All that matters is: Are you willing to sacrifice one of your own to save a person who cannot help themself?” Before anyone could react, Eiden raised his gaze heavenward, “Alexa!”

The girl came crashing down from another vent. Alexa let out a war cry as she clashed with the stunned Dame.

The Patriots threw grenades at the soldiers. “Take COVER,” a man cried out. Their enemies struggled to find concealment. Instead of shrapnel, smoke spewed out of the capsules. The group dashed for the red smoke, leaving Eiden and Percival behind. Confused yelling and the sound of metal striking metal filled the air. Idiots, Percival yelled at them in his mind; they were going against some of the best soldiers the Empire could offer, outnumbered no less. How could they expect to wrestle a lone soldier out of them?

“Don't move!” a guard yelled. Percival looked to his right and saw a guard a mere foot away from him, holding a pistol pointed at his chest. The man broke formation from the rest atrium guard.

The butler frowned and raised his hands, “I surrender.” The guard blinked and in his peripheral vision, he saw the man’s grip on his weapon loosen.

The grey-haired man wasted no time. Percival jerked out of the line of fire. He latched on to the gun with his left hand on the barrel and the top with his right. He twisted the weapon toward his adversary, the guard’s wrists buckled under the stress.

In response he drove his boot into the old man’s leg.

Percival gasped in pain, trying to hold on to what little balance he had. With his steel-toed boot, he returned the favor, driving it into his stomach.

The results were immediate, the man howled in pain and reeled back. His comrades took aim at the now armed terrorist.

Percival grasped the gun with both hands and turned it on its owner. The butler stared down the seven guards. Eiden on the other hand showed little interest in his altercation, instead he observed the battle in the smoke. The butler’s grip wavered at the sight of civilians behind the guard line. They were far from any real danger, how did Eiden expect to trap the Dame in an unwinnable situation?

Faint footsteps echoed from the tunnel. Vitus, Percival inferred. Muffled screams accompanied the echoes. Vitus was in trouble and there was nothing Percival could do about it. The man tried to get Eiden’s attention, but to no avail. The footsteps got closer and the screams got louder. They would be completely encircled. The butler’s eyes flickered to the incoming threat. It was two figures, one was being restrained by the other. He could only just make out the shadow of a gun being pressed into the hostage.

“Took you long enough,” Eiden complained. The teen had turned his back on the fight and looked at the shadows. The guards turned their attention on the newcomers. Percival’s confusion dissipated as they came into the dim light.

Vitus had a broad smile on his face as dragged his captive toward Eiden, “Not my fault, he chose to be difficult.” The poor prisoner didn’t look like a day over nineteen. The boy’s baggage uniform was ragged, cuts and bruises were painted on his face and arms. There was a tear in his pant leg that revealed a large gash. His eyes pleaded for help. On the other hand, Vitus had come off better with only a few minor scratches.

“What is this?” Percival asked, exasperated.

“Insurance,” was all he said. Eiden turned his attention on the clearing smoke with Vitus and baggage boy right behind him. Percival didn’t get the chance to berate Eiden for bringing a civilian into the mix. Neither did he have the time to lament on how the population would turn on their cause.

The smoke started to clear.

Alexa came tumbling out along with her daggers sliding across the floor. Cornelia leaped into the air, her sword raised for the killing blow. The girl rolled out of the way, her chest mere inch away from the strike. Eleanor was the second to escape, helping Alexa get away. Blood trailed the ginger girl, her hand gripped her own shoulder. Percival wanted to help Alexa, but the six guns trained on him persuaded him otherwise. She was still a child, the butler thought, far too young for this violence.

Felix and Kevin were the next to appear, they were in the midst of restraining the commando dressed like the Governor. The man looked like he was struggling for breath, he was fighting against his captors but looked like he had no energy to do so.

Robert materialized moments later with his gun trained on the dissipating smoke.

Their enemies looked dazed, unsure of what had exactly happened. Cornelia had lost all composure, a mix of fury and defeat contorted her face. The only thing that held her back was the knife held to their second hostage and a gun pointed to the first.

The noise of the man choking on air filled the room, all eyes were the terrorist leader. Neither side dared to move. “Who gets to live?” He asked the Dame.

A train wailed in the distance.

Cornelia said nothing, her gaze clashed with Eiden’s. For how reckless Eiden could be, Percival had to admit his ability to take control of an unfavorable situation was astounding. The security retinue had organized once more and looked ready to attack. “The Empire does not bargain with terrorists.” The Dame unholstered her pistol and pointed it directly at Eiden.

The teen intern snapped his fingers to which Vitus handed him his gun. Eiden undid the safety and pointed it at the baggage boy. “Saying that only shows that you don’t care about people.”

The Dame’s eyes flickered to the captured soldier; his breathing grew ragged. Pain filled the Dame’s face, but she persevered. “Even if you get your way, there will be nowhere to run.”

The red lights stopped blinking. For half a second the room went black. Blinding fluorescent light replaced it. The security blinds retracted. They revealed a mass of police. Percival gulped. They had lost. He had let down Master. Percival had failed her, most of all.

Eiden’s hand started to shake, “Is that all you care about? Result?” The teenager wavered. A few moments later Cassius and Anna were being led out from upstairs with their hands behind their heads.

Cornelia nodded to them, “I won’t ask again, surrender now.”

Percival had to salvage this, perhaps Master could have something arranged to rescue them. The butler lowered his weapon“Eiden-”

“SHUT UP!” Eiden screeched. The only sound was the teen’s heavy breathing. The old man flinched. Dozens of footsteps reverberated down the hall. Eiden tore the hostage from Vitus’ grip and held him in his own. “WHO DO YOU CHOSE?” The teen roared.

The Dame sighed and looked between her soldier and the boy. They rested on the belligerent boy, “You.”

A shot rang out.

Percival didn’t know who fired, only that the boy in Eiden’s hold crumpled to the ground.

The gunshot echoed through the building. It was like everyone was frozen in time. Traces of smoke trickled out of the Dame’s gun.

An explosion, like thunder, shattered the windows. The ground beneath them started to quake. A terrible screeching made his ears bleed.

Cornelia took aim once more at the terrorist leader.

It was too late.

A train, like a pile driver, burst through the wall. The entire room was thrown to the ground. Debris cut through Percival’s clothing. People shouted all around him, but to him, it sounded like they were under water.

He vaguely heard, “This is SCIL, Patriots! If you want to continue the crusade, come with us!”

Another shot rang out.

He felt cold. “Julia,” left his lips.