Although the dust had settled, there was no calmness within the atmosphere. Although they were in the home of Hal Fordren, no one felt safe. The events of the London Square Massacre were still fresh in everyone’s head; it had ended only a few hours ago.

In those few hours, nobody spoke a word. Hal smoked through three packs of cigarettes, leaning back in his recliner and looking up at the ceiling with an intense stare. Fang was still unconscious and was being treated by John in the guest bedroom. Silo just continually looked around the space and at the people around him with confused eyes. He tried to speak up a few times, but the oppressive silence of the air shut him up. Zander and Eliot whispered occasionally, but usually remained in a quiet embrace on the couch.

Vincent. Now, Vincent was still processing the numerous emotions and events that just tan through his mind. Unlike most times he used his powers, there was still a lingering cold in the back of his mind. It had slowly gotten warmer over the last few hours, but for some reason, it kept hanging on by a thread. This had been happening more and more frequently. He never questioned it nor noticed it until now, but in retrospect, that empty sensation had been subtly lingering longer.

What’s going on? he thought. Why won’t it go away?

Through the various missions he unquestionably did, Vincent never stopped to think about why he was doing what he was. It was all in the name of justice, of course! He was going o be a hero, just like he was in Egypt.

What kind of hero kills civilians?

The moment the idea of killing came to his head, the image of Copperhead Zak came to him. Such a terrifying chill wormed its way agonizingly down his spine. Just the thought of him getting that close to murdering someone frightened him. But the worst part was that he felt nothing at that time. The only thing he recalled feeling at the top of that train was the cold wind and his even colder heart. There were no emotions within him. There was no care when he used his powers.

Was I wrong?

He wanted to cry, but something in his mind suppressed his emotions every time they reached a certain point. And that threshold was continually getting lower. He felt it just a few hours ago Sure, he was smiling and making jokes with John while he was fighting Painender, but that was all surface-level. For the first time in a long time, although it was hard to admit, he was faking it. The longer that battle went on and the more he resonated, the less he cared. The only thing that let him keep his motivation through that fight was the voice of Fang buried beneath the Painender’s screams. Why was that?

“Alright, I think that’s enough mopin’ around,” Hal groaned, lowering the footrest on his chair. “John, get out here!”

Vincent snapped out of his self-reflective trance and looked at the detective. Even though he wasn't trying, he could read Hal’s waves easily. There was an odd sense of confidence coming off of him. That being said, the closer he looked, the more he found subtle notions of fear buried beneath the bravado.

“What are we going to do?” Eliot spoke up, his head resting on Zander’s shoulder.

Hal leaned an elbow on the armrest of his chair. “What else? We gotta plan for our next attack.”

“Attack?!” Zander yelled. “What do you mean? That was a bloodbath in there! We barely escaped with our lives. You only survived because you hid under a body during Archard’s assault.”

Hal was quiet for a second, staring directly at Zander. “Well we can't do nothin’,” he finally said. His eyes darted over at the wandering face of Silo. “And what's up with you? Aren’t you the leader of Aries? Start actin’ like it.”

Silo stopped and recoiled a bit in fear, like a child would while being scolded by his parents. “I-I-I don't know what that is,” Silo replied.

“What are you—”

“I told you, he has amnesia,” John’s voice interjected as they walked into the living room. They leaned against a wall and sighed. There was a subtle, pained look in their eyes. “Maybe I didn't explain it to you properly before, but he probably doesn’t remember anything about Aries and…” They paused. “He lost part of himself out there.”

“The hell does that mean?” Hal replied.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m understanding what you’re talking about either,” Zander added.

Glancing at both of them, John continued. “I’m not surprised neither of you understand. After all, you,” they looked at Hal, “are a Dominator. And you,” they looked at Zander, “aren't even a Resonator.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Zander pressed. Just then, a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder. Zander looked at Eliot and grabbed his hand. There was an odd, somber look on his face.

“It’s because he lost Terragong, isn't it?” Eliot asked John.

John’s demeanor grew curious for a second but then nodded in mutual understanding. “That’s right,” they said. “That’s the dangerous thing with being an Apparator. It’s like putting a piece of yourself out there and giving it a physical form. They can be very powerful and destructive, but there are risks. If that piece of you should ever be killed or destroyed, that part of your mind—the piece of you that you put out there for the whole world to see—cases to exist. I would guess that…no, I know that Terragong represented everything about resistance, courage, and revolution that Silo stood for. Seeing him like this, I’m sure that Tom and Archard managed to kill it. He’s longer the same man I knew.”

There was a tear starting to form in the corner of their eye, but before it could ever form, they wiped it away. At that same time, Vincent sensed a slight shift in their mental waves. It was the subtlest of details, and he only caught it because he fully understood the emotion. Seeping out for just a moment were waves of nostalgia.

“Will he ever recover?” Eliot asked.

“I’m not sure,” John sighed. “I’ve only ever seen this happen once or twice, and the phenomenon of Resonators is still too young to test these sorts of things. The only reason I’m so sure about this is because of my history with resonating.”

“History?”

“Well…” John hesitated. “Fang and I learned how to resonate long before Resonators were ever a thing. I-I don’t want to get into it right now. That’s not what’s important.”

“What is important is that we plan on how to take out them fuckers in Libra,” Hal jumped in, lighting another cigarette.

“I agree. So what all do you know?”

“Whelp,” Hal said, leaning forward, “we know that Archard now has complete control over the public. After what happened today, all the citizens of the country will look to him for protection. We aren’t gonna be able to rely on a single piece of public support. We’re on our own.” Hal took a puff. “At least Silo managed to take out a couple of the top members of Aries—Al and Vito are definitely dead. Not sure about Siegella.”

“And what about Tom?” John asked. “I wasn’t aware of him ever being a threat, but it seemed like he was the one who easily took down Terragong. Why wasn't he on anyone’s radar?”

“He was,” Zander said. “But we just didn't know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, I’ve been looking into the case of the Slayer for a long time. I never once believed all the garbage Archard told me about them—I never really trusted the guy. And in my investigation, I learned that the Slayer often went after Aries members and occasionally people who wandered into a certain area of town that was off-limits. It wasn’t until an accidental slip-up on my art that I started to have suspicions about someone.”

John leaned off of the wall. “And who would that be?”

“Tom King,” Zander answered. “I couldn't be one-hundred percent sure until today, but after seeing how he killed Terragong, I’m sure of it.”

“Interesting.” John rubbed their hands against their chin and looked to the ground.

Hal jumped out of his seat and just stared at Zander. “Are ya serious, boy? I know me and you kinda talked about the possibility, but what makes you sure now?”

“It’s the way the Terragong exploded.”

All the eyes in the room gave a uniform look of confusion. Even Vincent, who was struggling to pay attention to anything but his own mental turmoil, felt the unsure energy.

“I can see you’re all not following me,” Zander stated. “Allow me to explain. All of the victims of the Slayer have had their heads exploded in a very similar manner to how Terragong was killed. Whatever his power is, it can literally explode someone from the inside; it’s probably the most dangerous ability we’ve seen yet. This, and all my other circumstantial evidence relating to Tom, leads me to make the surefire connection that the Slayer and Tom are one and the same. Not only that, but Tom is actually Libra’s secret weapon. Hence why he was brought out to kill Aries during a full-scale war and only after every citizen that could've witnessed him was dead. Archard can't have people knowing that the Slayer works for him.”

Everyone in the room rested back in whatever position they were in. The information was a lot to take in, especially for Vincent. But after several minutes of silent deliberation, everything started to click into place. And while it was good that things were finally starting to make sense, the reality of that sense was horrifying.

“So…what do we do from here?” Eliot asked.

“The plan hasn't changed,” Hal said, lighting up yet another cigarette. “We gotta take Libra out before they start recruiting more members. We have to hit ‘em while they’re down. They’re at their weakest now.”

“And so are we,” John argued. “Fang is still unconscious, all of Aries was murdered, and Silo lost his ability to be a threat. We have nothing!”

So what do you wanna do? Lie down and die? I ain't going without a fight! The people of this city deserve justice!”

“And we can't provide that if we’re dead!”

Back and forth, the arguing faded into a muted blur. Vincent stopped caring once the substance of the conversation was gone. He melted back into his mind.

Am I a coward? he thought.

In all honesty, he didn't want to go back out there and fight. His mind was torn in two by the events of the day. Just yesterday he was still on Archard’s side, albeit a bit hesitant. Now he was suddenly thinking about murdering the man he looked up to. But then again, his friends all suffered at the hands of that man. So what was correct?

What do I do?

He took a deep breath and let his thoughts empty out. There was too much swirling around within his mind. Too many small, insignificant things cluttered his reasoning, forcing him to debate among ideas that didn’t matter. Once everything was empty, he finally started to feel like himself again.

His mind led him through a journey. He sat in the fresh, summer sun. The salty smell of the ocean faced his nostrils, renewing him with a sense of home. There was blissful ignorance and happiness there. “Simple” was the word he’d use to describe it. It was a simple time before the world was flipped on its head.

As he focused on the heat of the sun, it suddenly grew hotter. And hotter. And hotter. Next thing he knew he was in the vast deserts and congested cities of Egypt. It was a place full of beauty and culture he had never experienced before. Memories of his battles through the Rising Red and the Setting Sun casinos fast-forwarded through him. He felt every impact his knuckles made against Lucretia, the golden demon of that world.

Finally, his memories of that place landed on a quiet night. He and his friends were gathered around a fire, eating a hearty meal and laughing along with one another. Eliot would be tending to the food, while Zander would be made fun of for being too straight about everything. Meanwhile, in the background of this memory was a distant tune. The more he listened to it, the more the song became clear to him. It was Fang, playing the guitar. They were smiling and finally being their true self.

How could he have forgotten? He had lost himself in the details of the present, forgetting his entire purpose for going on his worldly journey. He had a world to save! Not only that, but he forgot the most important things to him…his friends. How could he have forgotten?

“We fight,” Vincent said.

All other arguments and conversations stopped in an instant. Every voice was silenced in order to give the unspoken man space to speak. And so, Vincent looked up at the group with a familiar, but more resolute look in his eyes.

“We will fight Libra,” Vincent repeated.

Eliot walked up to Vincent. “Are you sure, Vince?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” He then stood up and placed a hand on Eliot’s shoulder. With a smile, he said, “Why have any doubts? You’re looking at a miracle maker! We took down Lucretia, didn't we? What’s a measly little band of asshats compared to her?”

Eliot couldn't help but smile back. “I guess you’re right.”

“Well, that settles it!” Hal said, inhaling the rest of his cigarette. “Now we just gotta come up with a plan and figure who’s fightin’ who.”

Zander stood up. “I don't think we can just fight someone like the Slayer. The rest of Libra, sure, but not him. He’ll have to be taken out in a more covert way. And seeing as Hal and I are the brains of the group, I think we should be put on Slayer duty.”

“I’m good with that,” Hal said. “So what about Siegella? She’s a bad bitch and easily the best fighter they got.”

“I’ll handle her,” John said, stepping forward. They looked over at Silo. “I need to avenge my fallen Aries members.”

“That works,” Zander said. “That just leaves—”

“I’ll take Archard,” Vincent interjected.

Everyone looked at him for a moment.

“Are you sure, Vince?” Zander asked.

“Who else is going to do it?” Vincent replied. “Besides, you don't have to worry about me. I’ll kick his ass real good. I am the Chosen after all.”

“Alright then. I suppose that's everything accounted f—”

“What about Fang and Silo?” Eliot interrupted. “They need someone to watch over them. There’s no way they can fight.”

“Crap, I didn’t think about that. That's why I love having you around,” Zander doted.

Hal walked over to Eliot. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll call Lawrence over. He’s good at this sorta thing.”

“In that case,” Zander started to say, “I think now we have everything accounted for. Rest up tonight, everyone, for tomorrow, Libra falls.”