The next morning dawned overcast. They missed the rise of the sun as a cloud cover swept in from the early mornings and refused to relent. Rory hadn’t realized just how many of them had come to depend on the natural light of the morning as an alarm to get started on the day. As such, many of them woke up and got started on the day late.

It was a strange feeling that there really wasn’t any urgency. They didn’t have work they’d be fired from if they were late, or classes that they’d miss, or anything else that pressed for time.

Rory and the others prepared and had a nice breakfast. With their new groceries and the power lines, they were able to get stoves, toasters, and the like running. Rory’s stomach seemed to squirm in anticipation as he finally got his hands on warm omelettes, toast, and coffee. Normal on most occasions. Utterly delicious in the apocalypse.

For the rest of the day, Rory had thought he would go about figuring out the issue with the giants. Since they needed to conserve the Mana they used, it made sense that Rory needed to start by using his Weaving on the Mana itself.

He was interrupted from starting, however. A Wraith and A Ghoul arrived soon after their breakfast had finished, brimming with urgency and warning.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he reached the creatures.

The Wraith Lord’s minions had entered the palace grounds itself. Allen looked a little uncomfortable, perhaps regretting that he had allowed them to get this far within. Usually, Rory met them at the gate, and he realized they had never stepped past the gate itself without invitation. Now, they had thrown that unsaid little tradition out of the window and stood motionless near the gardens.

“We are in dire need of your help,” the Wraith said. “The Homeworlders are seeking to end us.”

Rory’s heart skipped a beat. “What? When did they start? How far are they? Tell me everything.”

“They haven’t begun yet,” the Ghoul said. “However, our scouts have spotted a large army of them gathering and approaching Wither Elm street. Our master has forbidden us from engaging them directly, so we are seeking a way to escape them. But they prepared too well. They were closer than we thought, and they have us surrounded. We cannot escape.”

“How’d you two get out?” Viv asked.

“In great danger and with great fear.” The Wraith turned to show them an area near his back, where his dark cloak had torn to reveal twisted green flesh with a soft, viridian glow. Rory had never seen what Wraiths looked under their cloaks but that couldn’t have been good. The flesh looked twisted and torn, dark fluid seeping out. He realized that was what was making Allen uncomfortable. “We barely managed to reach here alive.”

Trish cursed. “Why are those idiots attacking harmless monsters when they’re supposed to have their hands full with the Otherworlders?” She glared at their guests suspiciously. “You guys didn’t do anything to them, did you?”

The Ghoul swayed a little where she stood. “Not at all. We have simply been minding our own business and keeping watch.”

“This was inevitable,” the Wraith said. “The Homeworlders are bent on eradicating all Otherworlder presence, and we fall into that category as well. It was only a matter of time.”

Rory felt like cursing too. He hadn’t expected the Homeworlders to move so quickly. Of course, they’d consider anything monstrous their enemy. But they were supposed to be busy with their war against the Coalition, not roaming around in murderous bands, looking for stray monsters to kill.

“We don’t have time to waste,” Rory said. “Let’s go.”

Viv looked at him in slight alarm. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“We can stop them, as long as we hurry.”

A lot of the nearby faces twisted. No one liked the idea if venturing out into the midst of an eradication operation by the Homeworlders, but they couldn’t just leave the Wraith Lord and his subjects to die. They had to act.

“This is going to be dangerous,” Trish said. The fact that she of all people was hesitating really hammered home the seriousness of the matter.

Rory nodded. “We’ll have to be careful.”

They started preparing to leave. Rory thought it was best that they take a small party, but Dez soon arrived and decided to direct the entire operation. Apparently, he had dealt with similar situations in his time in the military.

He told them to form one, main group that would be out in the open and be in charge of attracting most of the Homeworlders’ attention. Rory, Arie, and Ned would make it up, Rory being their chief negotiator and Ned the getaway driver. They were taking Arie along as another proof that they weren’t afraid of working with anyone, regardless of looks.

Viv, Trish, Allen, and Miles would form the backup. They were charged with staying out of sight but staying close enough to charge in and rescue Rory’s group if anything went wrong. Viv’s teleportation ability would come in very handy then. They all agreed to go by Dez’s plan. Dez himself looked regretful that he couldn’t participate directly, but the sad side-effects of his powers meant he’d be toom much of a hazard.

Rory wasn’t sure he detected any relief from the Wraith or the Ghoul as they got the vehicles ready. Then again, he had never detected much emotion from the creatures. That was just how they were.

“Good luck,” Dez said as they all piled into the pickup and the jeep.

Rory waved farewell to Evelyn, Dez, and everyone else who was staying behind. Then he sat and stared ahead. His heart was thumping. This could go horribly wrong in too many ways, but he knew not acting wasn’t an option.

Their journey wasn’t troublesome, thankfully. No monsters attacked them along the way, even after they separated so that Viv’s group could stay hidden from the Homeworlders.

“Good luck,” Viv said from the pickup. “Call us as soon as you see them.”

“We will.”

Miles waved. “Don’t worry, gramps. We’ve got your back.”

Rory smiled at them as encouragingly as he could, then waved them on their way. No need to get worried when nothing had happened yet.

“You think they’ve been taking out the other monsters?” Ned asked once they had travelled without the others for a while. It seemed he had also noticed the lack of… anything at all in Hillhard. The silence was eerie.

“Maybe they all ran away with for the war,” Arie suggested. “No one wants to live on a battlefield.”

“I’m not sure monsters care…”

Rory tutted. “No lumping them altogether. You’re not wholly wrong, but still. If we can’t stop ourselves from stereotyping and whatnot, we’re going to have a harder time convincing the Homeworlders to stop doing the same thing.”

Ned grunted but didn’t reply. Arie smiled at him, however.

Rory’s heart started to hammer harder as they neared Wither Elm street. They still hadn’t seen anything. It was getting a little troubling. Were the Homeworlders approaching stealthily, hoping to launch an all-out invasion as soon as they thought they had everyone within their trap? Were they stumped by Rory’s sudden appearance? Whatever the case, Rory was going to have to find a way to make contact.

“So, are we trying to find where the Homeworlders are?” Ned asked. “Or are we going to Belleview?”

Good question. Belleview was the restaurant that the Wraith Lord had claimed as his headquarters in Wither Elm. It had been his first location, and while he had relocated himself to the bunker farther away, most of the Wraiths and Ghouls had remained on the street. They couldn’t all fit into one bomb shelter.

“Let’s go to Belleview first,” Rory said. “That’s likely where the Homeworlders saw most of them, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if they attacked there.”

“If they’re there.”

“Let’s hope they are.”

Wither Elm street wasn’t far off. Rory found himself gripping the seat before him tightly. It wouldn’t do to get overwhelmed when things hadn’t even started yet. They needed—

A line of fire roared into being before them. Ned thumped down on the brakes, twisting the steering wheel hard to prevent the jeep from crashing through. The jeep’s tires screeched horrifically on the road. Rory held on to the seat before him for dear life, squeezing hard.

When the jeep finally came to a stop, Rory looked up to see that the fires were raging everywhere. Heat baked them, smoke clouding the entire area and cutting off the rest of the world.

“This isn’t good,” Ned said, voice one step away from pure panic.

Beside Rory, Arie had stiffened.

“Stay calm,” Rory said, wishing he felt his own words. He lowered his voice so that only those within the car could hear. “Ned, call Viv and tell her we’re having issues. They might have to come over, but carefully. Try to be surreptitious about it.”

“Rory, what do you suspect?” In the rear-view mirror, Ned’s eyes were wide and wild. “Do you—”

“Ned. Call Viv. Now.”

Ned focused on pulling out their walky-talky and using the Sigil Warded into it with his Sigil of Wielding.

Rory looked around. The flames were bright around them, more white-gold than fiery orange. Sigil flames, like Miles’s Stormfire and Dez’s Abyssal Inferno.

In other words, this was a trap.

“Hello?” Ned said into the walky-talky. “Can you guys hear me? We’re having some—”

“That’s enough.”

A heavy thud announced the arrival of their captors. Rory looked to their right, where a large man had landed hard enough to crack the pavement, so close that Rory couldn’t see his head that towered over the roof of the jeep. The newcomer thrust his flaming fist against the jeep’s window beside the diver seat, making Ned yelp, jerk back, and drop the walky-talky.

“Come out, all of you,” the large man said.

Rory’s heart had strangely stopped its rapid pitter-patter. He didn’t like the anxiety of not knowing, but now that things had settled into some sort of course he could reasonably see the outcome of, even if it was horrific, he had an easier time thinking over his fear and stress.

He nodded at Arie and told Ned to follow the order they were given. Then he exited the jeep.

“Hello,” he said, trying to smile. “This is a strange welcome.”

The man didn’t appreciate his good humour. He was dour fellow with a thick beard and a shaved head big enough to use as a battering ram. The armour he had on was strange—it looked like a modern jacket and trousers but made entirely of a strange, reflective metal, like silver but more smoke-coloured.

“Hands up,” he ordered.

Rory complied. “How is that supposed to stop me from using my Sigil?”

His small eyes narrowed, and he peered with obvious warning, first at Rory, then at Arie and Ned who had exited the jeep with their arms raised as well. “Any funny business from any of you, and all of you are getting burned. Understood?” His head flashed to Arie, a twist slashing across his mouth. “Especially you, monster. I’d burn you to ash right here if you weren’t flame-resistant.”

It seemed being nice was out of the question here, Rory’s smile died too easily. “What do you want with us?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Weaver?”

Despite the heat, Rory felt cold. He recalled the warning Arelland had left him the day they had first met. Everyone wanted Weaving. “All this elaborate set up and trap, just to get your hands on me?”

The man cracked a little smile for the first time. “Be proud we’re going to so much effort for you.” It died again, his eyes growing hard. “And be grateful we haven’t killed you all for forsaking humanity and helping Otherworlders like a bunch of traitors.”

“We help everyone. That doesn’t make us wrong. The only thing we’re betraying is your stupid idea of being in a stupid war, and I’m more than happy to continue to do that.”

The man growled threateningly, taking a step forward. “Is that right?”

“That’s enough, Thomas,” someone said from behind.

Rory twisted to see more people coming in. He hadn’t heard them approach. Had to be another Sigil effect.

The man who’d spoken was tall like his companion, but thinner and wearing glasses. Rory found his breath quickening in spite of himself, his mouth twisting down.

“It’s you,” he said. “Aaron!”

Aaron smiled apologetically. “Hello, Rory. I see you’ve brought your friends. I hope you will all cooperate so we can end this peacefully.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Ned asked, looking around.

Rory caught the fearful expression on his face, then stared around as well. More Homeworlders were coming in. There was Linda there, and Linus and Shen, and farther behind all of them, Sylvia looked sad and reluctant. This was no army as the Wraith and the Ghoul had said. Just a small squad of half a dozen people, which was still more than enough to deal with Rory’s group, and likely even Viv’s group.

That made him worry about his wife. He didn’t know if Ned had been able to get a message away to Viv and if she knew they were in trouble.

“You all are coming with us,” Aaron said. His dark eyes landed on Rory. “And you are surrendering your Sigil of Weaving.”