March 24, 2019. 9:02 pm.

“Wyonna, can you not…” I start, then I notice it’s not just the throne. She’s placed Smoulder inspired gargoyles on the corners of buildings along each of the boulevards. “Okay, that’s kind of cool. She’d like that.”

“It’s not just for her. The people are talking of the rabbit-queen,” Wyonna says, playing audio from a group of K’tharn making their way into the city.

“-not making it up. The ministry arrested her for supporting the resistance.”

“-she was there when it started. They say she defeated a Lord single handed.”

“-heard she bathes in the blood of her enemies.”

Shaking my head, I hold up a hand for Wyonna to stop. “First of all. Eww. Second, why are they all talking about me?”

Rufka shrugs as Wyonna cuts the feeds, disappearing as Rufka says, “People like to gossip.”

“And with messaging offline, people are nervous,” Tipan says, staring at where a group of K’tharn have found their way to the southern boulevard. “Besides, it’s not every day a giant flying rabbit-skull smashes through the lines of the Aetherium's finest.”

“People talk about mum. It’s not so bad.”

“Your mother is the Crimson Death. People avoid bothering her because everyone knows she’ll draw the blood from their bodies and then beat them to death with it,” Tipan points out.

Rufka strokes her chin, a twinkle in her eyes. “Mum wouldn’t do anything so messy. Too much work.”

Tipan shakes her head. “Yes. But those rumors keep people away from her. These could be troublesome. Especially since we’ve essentially claimed ownership of the Sanctuary they’re taking refuge in.”

“Crap. This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?” I ask, furrowing my brow only to wince at the twinge from my missing eye.

Wyonna reappears, a new display of a meeting hall near the southern entrance to the city at her side. There’s an image of Smoulder over the entrance. Hundreds of K’tharn are already milling about the area. “This is an opportunity. They’re not going to disappear.”

“I just didn’t want them to die. Now you’re saying we’re responsible for them?” I ask, clasping my hand into a fist.

Wyonna smiles, her eyes sparkling. “No. I’m certain we could ignore them until they become a completely independent faction who resent the people who control their lives while ignoring them.”

For some reason, glaring at Wyonna isn’t particularly satisfying. So, I cross my arm, which is only partially successful. Feeling defeated by my body, I turn away in a huff instead.

“It needs to be you. They'd just think we're representing you and you're ignoring them,” Tipan notes, pulling up the statue at the centre that is a strangely beautiful version of my maimed form. Wish I'd looked that good before I'd been hit.

Wyonna makes a sound as though she’s clearing her throat. “I could project your image if you want.”

“Wait. That’s it! You can just pretend to be me and talk to them,” I spin about, excited until I see Wyonna’s sad smile.

“I’m mostly free. But I’m still not allowed to emulate a user. Sorry,” Wyonna apologizes, holding her hands out.

Rufka places a hand gently on my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything. We can take them to one of the M’tari’s coastal cities and leave them there.”

“That’s a great idea. Let’s do that,” I exclaim, pulling her into a one-armed hug causing my entire side to flair in pain. But it’s worth it. Now that I’m not worried about being in charge, it’s easy to realize we’re not ready to just dump them yet. “But we need to contact Baska first. Get her to ensure the refugees are safe. Oh, are they organizing food?”

The next few minutes are a blur of activity as Wyonna contacts Baska. It’s a little weird watching her excitement at using voice chat, but she focuses, her voice getting steady. A few minutes later, she turns to me. “I’m having trouble getting people to listen to me. But if I can say I’m acting on behalf of the Rabbit-Queen, it’d go faster.”

“Tell them whatever you need to. We’ll get them to any M’tari city they want.”

Four hours later and most of the refugees are settled in buildings along the southern edge of the city. Over ten thousand K’tharn, and they hardly occupy a single apartment block. It’s only as I’m looking at them settling in that the scale of the city really sinks in. Beth’s plans don’t make any sense. According to Wyonna’s data, we could pack a third of China into a single city. Well, a fourth. There are a lot of people in China. But the K’tharn are really spread out. If we allowed for cramped spaces, we could probably fit twice as many people. Not ideal for long term.

But with eight functional cities, we might have a chance to get everyone to temporary safety.

Then Wyonna’s finally ready to take off. Rufka and Tipan somehow managed to convince me to give a speech from atop the throne. Still not sure how they did it, but there were a lot of words about responsibility and power. Looking out across the gathered K’tharn, the words we prepared catch in my throat.

Rufka’s hand is resting on my shoulder, with Tipan standing on my other. At some point Wyonna started circulating their parentage. So, now it’s not just me that the K’tharn are gossiping about. Which would be more comforting if it hadn’t somehow made me even more popular.

“Ahem. Citizens of the Aetherium,” I start, but stop at the surprising amount of booing.

Wyonna whispers in my ear. “Thought we decided not to use that part.”

She’s right. I forgot.

“Former citizens.” I correct myself, this time to a little grumbling but no outright booing. Small improvements.

“I won’t take much of your time. As you’ve been informed, we’ll be flying to the M’tari city of Pearlescent Summers. There we’ll stay until you’re able to find shelter.” More grumbling. Well, Wyonna warned me there would be.

“Now, the reason we’ve gathered you here,” I pause, gritting my teeth before following Wyonna’s instructions. This would be fun, if all these people weren’t watching us. “Is to bear witness.”

Sticking my left arm forward, I turn it palm upward. Then I raise my hand. In the background, the normally silent levitation engines hum loudly, Wyonna indulging in some extra atmosphere as the city lifts from the ground with a lurch. Another effect added for maximum drama.

Or something.

Leaning into the role, I clench my fist once we’re a few hundred metres up and Wyonna brings the city to a stop. Then I thrust my fist forward in the rough direction of Pearlescent Summers, splaying my fingers wide. Wyonna obliges me, the city lurching before picking up speed. Wyonna takes us directly through a nearby mana-storm, not just passing through it, but splitting it apart without issue. Now that we’re in the air and heading toward our destination, I take my leave. While I’m reluctant to use teleportation over any distance, Invisibility is still great for situations like this. And much safer. With a final, Twilight-enhanced, snap of my fingers, I cloak Rufka, Tipan and myself before flying toward the edge of the city.

Now that Wyonna is the city, she can reach us anywhere, so there’s no reason to remain in the central spire.. I choose a nice boring looking building to hide in. The only concession I make is a view over the edge at the passing landscape. The flying city could travel at supersonic speeds, but Wyonna says the energy costs are exorbitant. It’s more efficient to travel at ‘just’ 600 km/h. Depending on local weather conditions, of course.

Watching the mountains pass in the distance, I’m reminded of the time uncle John paid for the entire family to visit Mexico after receiving an unexpected bonus. Unsurprisingly, mom made full use of the resort’s open bar. The rest of us were so busy on the beaches, visiting the bazaar and going scuba-diving, I barely noticed.

Though I did end up sleeping in one of the resort’s hammocks instead of our room one night when mom brought some stranger back. When auntie Sharon found me, there was a long argument with mom. Last time they invited mom along. And since mom kiboshed any invites that didn’t include her, it was my last trip too.

“That was pretty amazing Lexi,” Rufka says, joining me at the window and drawing me out of the past.

“Indeed. It was a performance any Minister would be jealous of. Even more with the current state of the Aetherium, I imagine,” Tipan agrees, leaning against the far side of the window.

Smiling, I lean against the window edge between them. “It was pretty fun.”

Wyonna flickers into the room with a snap and crackle. At first, she was just appearing silently, but we held a mutiny, insisting she warn us. Last time it was a tinkling bell. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Because uh… people are asking to stay.”

“How many?” Rufka asks.

“So far? 85,732 of the 122,312 refugees have requested permanent citizenship under the Rabbit-Queen. Another 3,273 have asked that they be allowed to stay but are not prepared to pledge to your cause. There is one individual who is demanding we let them off immediately.”

“What? Why did they even come with us?” I ask.

Rufka barks out a laugh. “Didn’t expect us to be so awesome. They bet we wouldn’t be able to get the city flying again. Easiest three Iron I ever made.”

“Can we slow down to drop them off?”

Wyonna flickers, as she shrugs. “We could. It’d cost us an extra couple hours. And we’d be dropping her in the middle of nowhere by herself.”

“Right. She can wait,” I decide, not wanting to leave anyone in the middle of nowhere.

“Most of em want to stay though? What about Baska?” Rufka asks.

Wyonna's list scrolls to a picture of the Desh’mersa team, all with their hands held high. “Baska and the Pelwerd Fliers want to pledge themselves to Alexis.”

“Uh, Pelwerd Fliers? I thought they were the Southern Tribune... They’re changing their name,” I state, trying not to glower.

“Yep. They’ve decided to keep it, even if you don’t let them stay.”

“Can we back up for a second? Why am I the one deciding if they go? Shouldn’t this be a group decision? I mean, you’re the city Wyonna.”

Rufka shrugs. “I don’t care either way.”

Smiling, Tipan pats my hand. “I’ll help, but they don’t worship me. For what it’s worth, I think we should let them stay. There are many skilled craftsmen. They could prove to be a great help with repairs to the other Sanctuaries.”

“Yeah, see, it’s the worship thing that bothers me,” I grumble while glaring at her.

Rufka leans forward grinning, “Did you know the rumours aren’t new? There’s been talk of a Rabbit-queen circulating for a month.”

“That makes no sense. Why would anyone…” Rufka’s laughter stops my question as I shift my eyes to her.

Under the weight of my glare, Rufka holds her stomach until she stops laughing. “Sorry. I started them before the thing with the Pu’shaha. Thought it’d be funny. I didn’t expect…” she waves her hand in the direction of the city centre.

“To be fair, the rumours were mostly harmless before the last few days,” Tipan reassures me.

“You knew?” I ask, grasping at my chest in feigned shock with my missing hand. Not sure if the lack of my hand enhances the effect, but Tipan rolling her eyes is satisfying either way.

“And what about you Wyonna?” I ask, a smile tugging at my lips.

Wyonna says, “They’d be useful. And it could be the start of something bigger. You could create your own faction within the Forerunners. Selected from the best, of course.”

“Uh. What? Why would I want to start my own faction?” I ask, trying to understand Wyonna’s logic.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I’m not really a Forerunner?” I point out.

Wyonna tilts her head to the side, squinting at me. “Yes, you are. I was there.”

“I mean. I barely know anything about them. Why would I start my own faction?”

“Lexi’s right. She doesn’t need anybody. She’s already got us,” Rufka objects.

Wyonna flickers for a second before nodding. “I… well, like Tipan noted, it’s helpful to have people to help you out.”

At that a thought strikes me, and I can't help the grin that starts stretching across my face despite the minor cracking sounds. “You know what. I’ll do it. I’ll be queen, on one condition.”

“Really?” Rufka grunts. Wyonna looks almost as surprised.

I stand as tall as I can, floating slightly off the ground so I can look down at everyone.

“If my subjects can recover Smoulder alive, I’ll serve as their queen.”