John Hunt’s coffee was cold.

  He frowned as he sipped at it, remembering when he had gotten it a few hours ago. Those few hours felt like a week ago, when he was still riding the high of a successful team building exercise and before the suited bastard had appeared in front of his desk with a smile and demands.

  He sighed into the cup, then set it back on the table.

  “Is there really no way out of this?” He asked John Smith, who sat across the desk from him.

  The man had been shockingly helpful in defying his former organization, despite having joined the Thunderbirds only the day before. Now though, he sat slumped in his chair, looking as exhausted as Hunt felt.

  “Nothing short of treason,” he said, sliding deeper in the chair.

  They were deep within the forest of desks that filled the Thunderbird’s headquarters, the entire building almost completely silent around them. The hundreds of people who would have filled up the desks having been packed up and sent to their likely doom several hours before.

  Hunt didn’t grace the response with a curse, he had run out of those already.

  “I just wish I knew what I was sending my people into,” he grumbled, trying for another sip of too cold coffee and grimacing at the taste.

  He hated going in blind. In his line of work you learned that lesson, or you died. Unfortunately the BSMP was calling in decade’s worth of promises, debts, and blackmail to force him and the company into this, and they knew as much as he did. That was to say, absolutely nothing.

  The Demon King’s castle was a thing of legend, the magical equivalent of El Dorado and Chernobyl rolled up into one big death burrito. The insidious promise of glory and power whispered in the ear of every adventurer, but anyone who gave into it never returned. Hunt had known his people well enough that he had kept any and all knowledge of the place well hidden, a decision he had come to regret as he watched them be whisked away on BSMP transports.

  Something thudded in the distance, ending his reverie as he snapped up.

  “Were you expecting someone?” He asked Smith.

  “No,” he replied, the former agent’s hand sliding under his jacket where he kept his gun.

  Hunt slowly got his feet under him, sliding one of the drawers on his desk open to reveal a knife and pistol that both glowed with magical power.

  Then the air above his desk began to warp, shifting to form a sort of tunnel that pointed off toward the front of the building. John leapt backward with a yell, ending up with one knee on the ground and his gun pointed up at the figure that had stepped through the portal and onto his desk. Then his mouth fell open and the gun lowered minutely.

  “Hey John,” Susan said, then turned to face the other person in the room, “John.”

  “Miss Hill?” Hunt managed to say before being interrupted.

  “Where are my parents?” She asked, though it didn’t feel like a question.

  “Arriving in Europe, I think.”

  Smith’s deadpan reply saved Hunt from a very awkward reply. The former agent looked just as thrown as Hunt, but still somehow managed to stand up from his chair and adjust his tie like he was late to a meeting instead of facing down an angry dragon.

  “So you are attacking the Demon King?”

  “Yes.”

  Susan didn’t reply to that. Instead her face darkened as her jaw clenched.

  “Can you call it off?”

  “No, all communication has been cut off for the people being sent in.”

  “Dammit!” A furious kick sent a sheaf of papers flying across the room where it thudded against a distant desk.

  Stalking to the edge of the desk, Susan hopped off of it to land the floor. Moving over to Smith, she glared up at him.

  “What the hell is going on, Smith?”

  “The BSMP higher ups are desperate,” he said, holding up both hands as if to ward off the pissed off dragoness in front of him. “Extremely desperate. They know that there's practically no chance of killing the Demon King, but they also know the chance isn’t zero. Unlike the chances of the BSMP surviving the next year.”

  “So what, it's just a Hail Mary then?”

  “Yes. If they actually managed to kill the demon king, the plague of the planet for the past ten thousand years, their position would secure itself. With that kind of payout, it's an obvious decision for them to sacrifice some hired guns in a bid for survival.”

  Hunt’s eyes flickered between the looming teenager and the sweating Smith a few times. Then his eyes narrowed as he realized something. Susan seemed to realize the same thing as her shoulders tensed.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” She hissed.

  “I…” Smith’s eyes flickered to Hunt, sending a silent apology, “wrote the report that recommended the Thunderbirds.”

  “You… what?” Hunt was on the other side of the desk and grabbing the man by his jacket before he had even fully processed his words. “You joined us-”

  “To stop the problem before it even happened,” Smith spoke over him, then his eyes fell. “Which… I failed.”

  “And you chose the Thunderbirds, why?” Susan broke in.

  “Because your parents work for them,” Smith admitted.

  Then he and Hunt were taking a careful step away from the furious teen, who huffed out a breath of air that seemed a little too warm for their liking.

  “Why not just warn me then?” She asked after a moment.

  “So what, you could destroy the BSMP?” Smith shot back.

  “Yes.”

  The reply earned a frown from Smith. Removing Hunt’s now slack hands from his jacket, he took a step back toward Susan.

  “You… you’ve taken every excuse not to attack the BSMP,” his brow furrowed as he spoke. “All the information I have on you agrees that you avoid any opportunity for mass destruction like the plague. But you change your mind for this?”

  He stopped in front of her, staring down at her as if answers were written into her scowling face.

  “What do you know that I don’t?”

  “That I can’t beat the demon king.”

  Susan’s words echoed in the quiet of the headquarters. Where before the silence was deep and cloying, now it was absolute, not even the sound of breathing breaking it.

  “That… how? You’re a damn archdragon! I’ve never heard of anything even theoretically more powerful than that!”

  “Have you ever wondered why the Guardians haven’t just killed the demon king yet?”

  Susan’s reply seemed to catch Smith off guard. His mouth opened, then closed, then a hand came up as if to point something out before it fell again.

  “The going theory is that his fortress is warded specifically against the Guardians,” he finally said. “Or that there aren't enough of them to launch a meaningful assault.”

  “Five isn’t the max, John. It’s the minimum.”

  Both John’s mouths fell open.

  “What you need to understand,” Susan’s finger came up to poke Smith in the chest as she spoke, “is that the Guardians exist because of him. See, the demon king wasn’t born on earth, he’s an outsider, the king of a realm spanning empire that came to earth to invade it.

  “It took him three days, three days! To destroy the civilization that existed here at the time. And these weren’t cavemen, or Neanderthals, or anything. From what the Guardians have told me, they were so advanced they made Themus look like a backwater!

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  “And instead of just giving up, they chose to end the demon king's conquest, one way or another. By creating a magical construct that trapped the Demon King on our planet and creating a never ending army to combat any attempt he made to escape.”

  Susan was breathing heavily at this point, having backed Smith up until he was almost leaning over the desk behind him.

  “I doubt I could take on the current five. The demon king has survived dozens of them, hundreds of times.”

  She finished, removing her finger and stepping away to let Smith get his breath back. He was looking ashen by this point, what little confidence he had stripped away until all that was left was an expression of utter horror.

  “Now, is there really no chance at the mission being called off?”

  “You’re sure of this?” John asked, voice raspy.

  “Straight from the mouths of the Guardians.”

  Smith took a breath, but it did little to bring any kind of color back to his face.

  “None,” he almost whispered, shoulders slumping. “Whether you, or the magical girls, or plain old bureaucracy ends the BSMP, it's all the same to the higher ups, they won't call it off.”

  Susan met his eyes for a moment, her jaw clenching as she stared up at him. Without another word she stalked to Hunt’s desk. Jumping on top of it, she turned towards the door to the building and began drawing glowing lines in the air with her finger.

  “Wait, but what is the plan? The guardians-”

  “Aren’t stupid enough to attack him.”

  “But… then you're just going to go alone?”

  “I didn’t say it was a good plan,” she said, turning back a bit so that he could see the grim determination written across her face.

  Then the air in front of her began to warm, and she stepped forward to vanish into it.

  “The hell do we do now?” Hunt asked into the empty air where she had stood.

  Smith turned toward him, slowly straightening his jacket as if it were a suit of armor.

  “I- we, hope that the damn mouse isn’t crazy,” he said.

  Susan’s landing wasn’t kind to her grandfather’s flowerbeds. Her feet kicked up a small shockwave of dust that sent pedals flying around her as she skidded to a stop in front of her grandparent’s house.

  The clearing was deceptively calm, the quiet autumn breeze and the scent of flowers seeming to promise a peace that was utterly at odds with Susan’s roiling gut. She was furious, and stressed, and a whole lot of other things that she didn’t have the time to deal with right now.

  Even now the incessant tugging of the summoning spell was setting her teeth on edge. Another distraction she didn’t have time for.

  Heavy footsteps took her towards the serene cabin, and she only remembered at the last moment to return to human form instead of redesigning the front door.

  The time it took to sketch the runes still dug at her, and she had to deliberately slow her movements so as not to mess up the flowing lines. Thankfully her entrance had been noticed, and Zach was swinging the door open just as she stepped onto the porch.

  “Come in, come in,” he said quickly, ushering her into the front room with a wave of his hand.

  The interior was as normal as the outside, the same wooden walls and mess of trophies. The only difference at the time was the small mountain of pastries piled on top of a platter on the coffee table, and the young girl seated in front of it.

  Elizabeth looked harried, her eyes staring at nothing as she mechanically nibbled at one of the sweetbreads. But as Susan stepped into the room she looked up to meet her eyes.

  “Are they really?” Was all she asked.

  “Yes,” Susan replied, and her head drooped.

  “It seems your grandmother and I were too lax in removing the local threats when we moved into the area,” Zach grumbled as he closed the door behind Susan.

  “Well I’m just as guilty of that,” Susan said, watching as he moved over to Elizabeth to pat her on the back.

  She moved as well, stalking over to the platter and grabbing a handful of sweetbreads to stuff into her mouth.

  “It’s bullshit,” she said through a mouthful of pastry, “complete bullshit.”

  “That it is. But we need a plan, not just complaints,” Zach said, wincing as crumbs sprayed across his carpet.

  Susan paused and swallowed before speaking again.

  “Don’t worry, I just need-”

  “Everyone ready to go?” Hilda’s voice boomed from the stairwell, followed by the heavy thumping of steps.

  She stepped down into the living room wearing what looked like steel plate wanted to be, a blocky suit of dark metal so thick it could probably deflect cannonballs.

  “No. Hell no!” Susan snapped, cutting off any response from the others.

  “What’s wrong?” Hilda asked, a helmet the size and thickness of brick wall tilting to the side in confusion.

  “You cannot come with me!”

  “We very much can,” Zach said, stepping past her to grab a staff from the umbrella stand by the door. “Don’t attempt to deny us our opportunity to protect our daughter, no matter our age.”

  “We know we don’t have good chances Susan,” Hilda continued his speech, her words somber despite the tinny quality the helmet gave them. “But we’d give whatever time we have left to preserve what your parents have.”

  “But you don’t understand,” Susan snapped, making Zach pause and turn back towards her, “This isn’t that kind of fight!”

  She took a deep breath, trying to keep back the panic that the idea of losing her grandparents as well brought about.

  “It’s not a matter of contribution, or power, or anything like that,” she continued with frantic waves of her arms. “The Demon King is at least a tier five entity, maybe even six. You wouldn’t survive a second, no matter what kind of protections you bring.”

  The declaration was met with silence by her grandparents. Zach’s arm was frozen outstretched as he reached toward his staff. With slow movements, Hilda reached up and removed the helmet to reveal an ashen face.

  “Tier six?” She whispered.

  The magic ranking system always followed a very simple rule. The higher up the scale, the more dangerous the magic. Most people stopped counting at Tier Five, which was where magic went well beyond normal means. Eldritch beasts were Tier Five. Archdragons were Tier Five. The Guardian’s Fourth Dimensional Rune was Tier Five.

  Tier six was a joke, like saying you wanted a zillion dollars. A meaningless exaggeration.

  Or at least it had been.

  “I can maybe make it out,” Susan continued, breathing a little easier despite the stress she was clearly causing her grandparents. “But only if I have Liss and only if I don’t need to worry about protecting anyone less durable than me.”

  “I- understood,” the look of heartbreak on Zach’s face as he spoke was gut wrenching, but Susan held firm.

  “Can you wield Liss?” Hilda asked, earning a sigh from Susan.

  “I’ll make it work,” she said, but her voice must have given something away as both of her grandparent’s expressions firmed.

  She grit her teeth. This was going to turn into a mess. She needed that sword, and she needed them out of the way. There was no way she was letting anyone else get hurt because she was too careful again.

  “I can take it,” a voice broke the silence.

  Unnoticed by the others, Elizabeth had slowly stood up from her place by the couch. She now stood in front of Susan, arms clenched at her sides as she looked up at her with fire in her eyes.

  “Absolutely not,” Susan replied instantly.

  “Why not?”

  “For all the reasons I just told them!” Susan waved an arm at her grandparents.

  “You said you can't bring anyone that will get hurt,” Elizabeth shot back, her head lowering as if she was readying for a charge. “But I won’t. I’m a Guardian.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Susan is right,” Zach broke in, “You shouldn’t go.”

  Susan shot a grateful look towards him. He met her gaze, but his eyes seemed more mournful than supportive.

  “Yes, please-”

  Susan watched as Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. She knew what conclusion her sister was making, the same one she had made earlier. Debating their grandparents was a waste of time, something that was deadly wasteful right now.

  She stepped forward, ready to break in. But she wasn’t nearly prepared for what Elizabeth chose to do instead.

  A hum of energy appeared behind her, and then Elizabeth was charging forward. Tackling Susan around the waist, she propelled both of them backward and through the glowing column she had just summoned.

  Susan’s back hit stone, and then she was shoving Elizabeth back and scrambling to her feet. She stepped toward the column, arm reaching back to grab Elizabeth and shove her back toward it when the light cut off as the construct vanished.

  They were left standing in a circular barren plain surrounded by hills of yellow and brown. The ground next to her dipped down into a dark cavern, next to a jagged hole that appeared to have been melted into the ground only a few feet away from the edge.

  “You…” she grit her teeth to cut off the screech that threatened to explode from her.

  “Could you maybe listen instead of screaming for once?” It was Elizabeth yelling this time, her arms rearing back behind her head and then forward as if she were throwing something.

  “No!” Susan definitely didn’t scream.

  “But you promised, remember?” Elizabeth definitely screamed. “The next time you do something like this, I come too!”

  “And then we’re both dead!” Susan shouted, her arms waving wildly.

  “What, you lied!?”

  “I DON'T KNOW! PROBABLY!” The answer exploded free from her, and Elizabeth took a step back in wide eyed shock.

  Susan took desperate gulps of air as she came down from the fury that had fueled the admission. In front of her Elizabeth’s expression had gone from angry to crushed, tears threatening to burst free at the betrayal.

  “You know what, screw it,” Susan turned and began to stomp away. “I'll just go without the damn sword!”

  The hulk of her body practically exploded free as she cancelled her transformation. Her wings had barely stretched out before air was rushing through her, propelling her into the air with the telltale thunder crack of breaking the sound barrier.

  “You’re not dying,” a voice quavered on her back.

  Then it steeled.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Something smashed into Susan’s back, sending her careening downward with a shriek. The ground rose up to meet her in a thunderous impact, instantly leveling one of the brown hills before she tumbled to a stop. She twisted her body around and was on her feet in an instant, her tail sweeping up along her spine to knock free her pestilential sister.

  It hit nothing but air.

  “Did you forget I can teleport?” Elizabeth's voice came from behind her, equal parts furious and mocking.

  “Why can’t you understand?” Susan’s voice roared as she turned to face her sister with a series of steps that set the ground around her trembling.

  “Understand what?” Elizabeth shot back.

  She stood on one of the hills, the elevation making them nearly eye level. Susan let out a low growl, trying to reign in her rising temper and formulate some kind of response that could get through.

  “That I’ve lost enough people already-”

  “AND I WON’T LOSE MY SISTER!”

  “AND WHAT DO YOU GET ABOUT LOSING PEOPLE?” Susan’s calm evaporated.

  “LOOK AROUND YOU IDIOT!”

  Susan took a step back, her head rearing back to respond again when something about the brown hills clicked with a vague memory. She had been here before, the recollection made murky by the fury and desperation she had felt at the time.

  “I killed the eldritch beast here,” she said, looking back toward the seat shaped outcropping of rock and rubbing at the spot on her heart as a phantom pain sprang to life in her memory.

  “Yep,” Elizabeth said. “I was the first one here after you collapsed.”

  Susan’s mouth opened to ask why that mattered, before her brain caught up.

  “Damn.”

  Her head fell, as well as her heart as she realized she couldn’t leave Elizabeth. Not without her following.

  “We still need the sword,” she said lamely, trying to put off the inevitable.

  “Already have it,” Elizabeth said, stalking back toward where they had arrived.

  Susan’s eyes narrowed, and then she huffed in surprise as she spotted the telltale glimmer of Liss’s hilt sticking up out of the ground in the distance. When had she…?

  Reaching the blade, Elizabeth reached down and pulled it free from the earth in a smooth motion. Throwing it over her shoulder, she turned back to look at Susan.

  “What are you waiting for?” she shouted, “we have parents to save.”