Remus stormed away from the burning remnants of his base. Smoke clouded his vision as he pulled himself free from the wreckage, pieces of wood and stone shrapnel blasting around the place.

  Oddly, he wasn’t tired in the slightest. A giddy excitement coursed through his veins, providing enough energy to run a marathon, backwards, and blindfolded. Now that he had wrestled the claws of Enos’ influence away from his mind, never had his thoughts been clearer without that poison to addle it. There was no hesitation left to burden Remus; only a fiery conviction that lit the way forward, burning a path through the woods of his destiny.

  Oh right. He stopped in his tracks, turning to face the wildfire. I should clean up my mess.

  His Mark flared, and the flames – some of them already his shimmering azure, the others a natural crimson – failed to resist his authority. Within the blink of an eye, the place was a blazing blue. Then, clicking his fingers, Remus dispelled the seething lightshow. Nothing remained of his headquarters but an ugly scar burnt into the earth, and the crater where Enos’ Projection drew its last breath.

  No doubt, there would be half-asleep clansmen wondering what the hell he was doing. Remus put aside those concerns, instead jogging towards the largest building on this campsite, and where the maps, battle plans, and other documents – the ones he hadn’t burnt to a crisp – were kept.

  Remus had learnt a lesson from the burning fate of his last base: never keep all of your war plans in one place.

  He reached out to the doorknob in the entrance of a wide hall, only to freeze.

  Remus’ spiritual senses picked up on the impossible. It was difficult to differentiate the God-Graced from the lesser Ranks. Much like how the light of a torch is nothing compared to the blazing heart of a sun, engulfing the other, and he stumbled backwards at what his perception was telling him.

  A few of the beings inside were easily recognisable; these were people Remus had been around so often, that he knew the impressions they imprinted upon his spiritual senses like the back of his hand. Aziel, Koa, Veida, Tanguy, and Remus had to stop himself as he automatically started searching for Octavia. Alive one day, gone the next. It would be a while before he grew accustomed to Koa standing alone, fingering his wedding band.

  Holding more spiritual weight than all four of them, however, was Violet. But even she was only a pool of power compared to the figures that stood beside his companions. Their might possessed an unquestionable depth, and, like how the greatest explorers of Descent could still only speculate on the true extent of the world’s one ocean, Remus could hardly fathom what drawing from such abundant power must feel like.

  Despite the excellent hearing of a Vanguard, their voices were muffled to Remus. Though, from the tidbits he could make out, it appeared to be quite the passionate conversation.

  God-Graced. Here. Remus frowned, unable to think of an explanation for why that would be the case. What business did they have at an infirmary full of recovering soldiers? Hoping that his friends weren't being held hostage, Remus opened the door and took the first tentative step inside.

  The scene he was met with was something out of a fever dream.

  Veida was perched over a great map of Descent, seven faces huddled around her.

  Tanguy was placing counters across a detailed depiction of First Rite. Aziel was rubbing his chin, so engrossed in Veida’s words, he didn’t even raise his head as Remus entered. Koa was creating new counters out of thin air, before handing them to his blond friend. Each of the figurines were immaculately detailed, as good as any piece laboured and loved over by a master craftsman. Remus thought he recognised the bald scalp of one carving: Koa really had nailed Edmar’s likeness.

  Violet stood before the last three people Remus had expected to see. Eshika, the Old One, and Eliane. What was stranger still was the fact that none of the trio were jumping for each other's necks. God-Graced with self-restraint were hard to come by nowadays.

  Remus foolishly wondered for a moment what had made the trio put aside their differences, but the answer was obvious – they had a greater common enemy to deal with.

  “Our biggest issue is Divine Ground. Damosh has ruled over First Rite for centuries. And during that time, he’s fostered quite the formidable hold on the locale. To challenge his authority, we’ll need a team of God-Graced to focus their efforts against his will. Then – and only then – can our attacking force safely enter.” Veida lifted her head, finally locking eyes with Remus. “Look who decided to join us.”

  All gazes were lowered onto the ginger man. He stood there meekly, feeling starkly out of place. Which was strange, seeing how it was him spearheading this rebellion.

  “Looks like his mind has melted into mush.” The Old One said. “To think I’m fighting on the same side as this mope . . .”

  “What is this?” Remus eventually spluttered.

  “What?” Violet smiled. “I don’t doubt that your arrival at First Rite would cause quite an upset Remus, but taking on an entire Capital by yourself? Did you seriously believe for a second that we’d let you go it alone?"

  “Yeah,” Aziel offered that signature, toothy grin of his. “I know you’re an overachiever Remus, but that’s beyond stupid – suicidal, even! Hell, trying to dethrone Damosh in itself is pretty damn ridiculous, even with all of us helping you out.”

  “Hey, stay positive.” Veida chided, failing to disguise her own smile. “We have an army of God-Graced on our side. Damosh might be a tough nut to crack, but if that sight alone doesn’t break him, then he’s already lost his mind.’”

  Remus wasn’t sure if he’d heard that right. “Sorry, did you say an army of God-Graced?”

  Violet stepped forward. “I knew eventually you would turn around Remus, and regain your fighting spirit. So I took the liberty of sending my Projections on a little excursion. They had their hands full with some very special recruiting.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. Remus tried his best to ignore the smug smirks on his

  friends’ faces. Feeling her body heat against his own, Remus did the utmost to suppress the memory of Blessing’s guiding words.

  That debacle was definitely something he would have to deal with, but he couldn’t afford to get distracted. The fate of Descent’s capital, and, depending on how this all went down, maybe the fate of the world, held far more precedence than the personal matters of his heart.

  For now, at least, he held her. And that was enough.

  “Turns out Damosh isn’t very popular.” Violet confided. “Most clans are looking for any excuse to take that throne right from under him. And we’ve provided it.”

  “I know for a fact Ash will be there too.” Koa balled his fist and held it. “I’m not going to let Enos take anymore of my family. I don’t care if I’m the last person on this earth who believes: I’m going to . . . I’m going to bring my brother back.”

  The Old One frowned, as if he thought Koa was a hopeless idealist. “Trying to save your wife’s killer? You might not think that much news of your rebellion reaches us in Eclipse, but something that ironic was bound to catch our ears.”

  “That was not my brother.” Koa snapped. “That was not Ash. That was something . . . else, using his body. And I’m going to bring the real him back.”

  Eliane looked at Koa in the same way you might a lost puppy.

  “However you rationalise it, you’ll have to confront the truth sooner or later.” The Old One warned. “Don’t think your brother is removed from responsibility so easily. There’ll be justice to pay for his crimes.”

  Koa gritted his teeth, gaze lowering to the floor.

  “Hey man.” Remus placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. ““I’ll send out a command that Ash is to be taken only as prisoner. Not to be killed unless absolutely necessary. I can’t guarantee that request will be obeyed in the heat of battle, but I think he can be saved. I really do. I’ve seen first hand that Enos’ will isn’t unbreakable. He can be fought against, and he can be beaten.”

  Koa wiped a single tear from his cheek. “Thanks Remus. Sometimes I think I’m crazy, and other times I feel like I’m the only person around here who’s making any sense. And, I know I’ve already apologised, but about that argument we had-”

  “Don’t worry brother. It’s water under the bridge. Nobody will kill Ash under my watch.”

  The Old One scoffed.“Throwing around commands so easily. Since when were you in charge of us?”

  Veida swivelled on her feet, facing the Old One head-on. “Since he began this rebellion in the first place. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Remus had to give Veida all due respect. Standing up to a God-Graced, especially the Old One, took guts. He just wished she chose her fights more wisely.

  The Old One mumbled under his breath, but said nothing more.

  “Okay then.” Eliane moved over to the map. “I’ll rally as many God-Graced as I can from Hybrid to form a team.”

  “We’ll call that group Team A.” Remus fell back into his leadership role with ease. It felt weird to be commanding around God-Graced, but as he’d mentioned before – this was his war effort. If the Old One had any grievances about that, he kept them to himself.

  Remus might not be the strongest soldier opposed to Damosh, or the one with the most battle experience, or the best military expertise. What he was, however, was the butter that held this whole operation together. A living symbol of hope for the Talents that, by the very nature of his past, and who he was today, implanted faith into the most disheartened. Fate may have written stories of tragedy for these people, but sometimes, flipping that script wasn’t enough – you had to burn it, and start anew.

  “Team A?” Aziel frowned. “Isn’t that a little boring?”

  “What?” Eliane scoffed. “You think it best to waste time on showboating? How about we spend the rest of the meeting thinking of names that might impress our enemies! How splendidly productive.”

  Aziel placed a hand to his chest in mock pain. “Now there’s no need to talk like that, Mrs God-Graced. I was just thinking we needed something memorable. So that there's no confusion of who’s who.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “The Door-Breakers.” Remus smiled. “It’s about time we turned the tables on Damosh: let’s see how he likes someone knocking at his doorstep and rudely making demands.”

  “That has got to be the lamest name I’ve ever heard in my life.” Violet said. “But it does roll off the tongue.”

  “Door-Breakers it is!”

  The Old One shook his head, and if disapproval had a stench, Remus would be nose-blind to it before the night was over.

  “Okay, we have clan leaders heralding from each of the world’s major cities coming to our aid. Let’s assume that most of them keep their promise to come. In a semi-realistic scenario, that gives us about ten God-Graced or Godlings present to challenge Damosh’s will.”

  That was more than Remus had ever hoped of spurring to join their war effort. A jaw-dropping number. Yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the blood drained from Eshika’s face.

  “It will take all of our combined effort to override Damosh’s Divine Ground. Then, to keep him from reclaiming his territory, we’ll need to keep challenging him. In other words, us God-Graced won’t be able to enter the city itself. We’ll sit at the threshold and keep the area free of control, as whatever forces you’ve mustered in your rebellion launch their attack.”

  Remus gulped. “Ten God-Graced just to break through? This is ten against one we’re talking about! Couldn't at least one God-Graced slip through to help us?”

  Eliane shook her head. “Eshika’s right. The moment our will falters, and Damosh regains control over his Divine Ground, your rebellion is destroyed. You’ll be left helpless, unable to fight back as Damosh’s forces slaughter you one by one, like lambs. We can’t risk that. By the time any other God-Graced decide to join, if they ever do, the Talents will be blood decorating the streets. Nothing will be left.”

  Only the pattering of rain against a closed window could be heard, as the company let the weight of that statement settle in their bones.

  “We can still win this.” Remus was almost envious of the conviction bleeding from Tanguy’s voice. “It will be difficult to kill a God-Graced with only Warlords and lesser Ranks, but the rest of the Wealth Clan will be easy pickings for our forces. And something tells me those lackeys will quickly lose their loyalty when push comes to shove.”

  “We’re forgetting about Ash and Edmar.” Koa reminded them. “We have no knowledge of their Rank equivalence, though I suspect each is at least as powerful as a Warlord in their own right. I’d dread to think they’re any stronger, but it’s always a possibility. “

  “And those Paladins.” The Old One uttered that last word like it was something distasteful stuck in-between his teeth. “If the Wealth Clan is conspiring with Ash and Enos, it would surprise me very little to discover that they have army reserves hidden away somewhere in the city. Those Tainted Marks are a pathetic mockery of the gods’ benevolence to mankind, but I cannot deny the power they hold.”

  “These are all hypotheticals.” Remus reasoned. “But your worries are justified. We need to split our forces into groups. That way, we’ll never be overwhelmed by more than one major threat at a time.”

  The room assented.

  “We’ll need captains then.” Veida reasoned. “People to lead our separated clansmen. I think we can securely portion our rebellion down into thirds, before we risk spreading ourselves too thin.”

  She strolled around the room in a circle, inspecting each of them in turn. “I say our captains should be the highest Ranked people we possess, but also the greatest symbols of triumph for our soldiers. That makes it obvious then, that Remus will be captaining our main attacking force.”

  He beamed. “It would be my honour.”

  “Sounds good.” Eshika nodded. “They can be our most direct attackers.”

  Remus liked the sound of that. “Each squadron should enter the city from a different direction, all eventually closing in around Damosh’s palace in the Ruling District. I’d think it best, however, that my forces scout ahead. I have a flare ready in case we need to abort the mission.”

  The Old One laughed. “There is no possibility of defeat here Remus. Do not allow the seed of failure to be planted inside your mind. Would you water a weed that appeared in your garden?”

  Remus gulped. “Well, no-”

  “Then do not allow fear and uncertainty to soil the future! You must never let hesitation enter your heart, for it is the worst kind of poison."

  He was about to reject the words out of hand. It was the kind of dogmatic thinking that could only spawn from a mind as entrenched in pride as the Old One’s. But the Shadow God-Graced had a point. If his men crumbled under the stress, then this entire operation would fall apart. To prevent that catastrophe, Remus would have to be someone they could follow. Someone whose mind remained clear while the world around him was clouded in chaos.

  “I’d like to fight by Remus’ side, if it’s no bother.” Tanguy stepped forward. “I was a very lost man when I crossed paths with our rebellion's leader. Intentionally or not, it was the mercy you chose to show me at my lowest point, Remus, that has made me the man I am today. It would be one of the greatest honours of my life to help fulfil your lifelong ambition.”

  Remus was touched. Yet, before he could even open his lips, Aziel joined Tanguy’s side.

  “The fire-based attackers.” Aziel smiled. “We haven’t fought together since the war against the last Divine-Right generation. I think it’s about time we reunited on the battlefield.”

  “Room for one more?”

  Remus jumped. Turning around, there wasn’t a face he could have been happier to see than Hadrian’s.

  The Mercenary-Rank was fully equipped in his battlegear, taking up half the doorway; a sheer giant of a man.

  “Now you decide to join?” Veida lifted an eyebrow. “When you get to set things on fire and blow them up?”

  Hadrian grinned doggishly. “Two of my best students are here!” Hadrian placed both of his massive hands on the shoulders of Remus and Tanguy. “And I’ve witnessed the blue whirlwind that is Aziel on the battlefield! What makes you think I’d missed the opportunity for us all to fight together?”

  “Wait.” Remus thought for a moment. “Would you like to lead us? You and I are on equal footing in terms of Rank now, but I lack the experience you possess Hadrian. If you’d like to take the reigns-”

  “Nonesense!” The burly man boomed. “Now why would I ever wish to overtake our rebellion’s leader? Look Remus: the Talents of the Future won’t know who I am. I could be charging toward Damosh’s tower, about to burn the whole bloody thing down, and in their eyes, I’d still just be another soldier on the battlefield! What they need to see, Remus, is their chief leading the charge. They need you.”

  Remus nodded.

  “Don’t worry about the Flames Sect either.” Hadrian smiled. “I’ve brought them with me.”

  “All of them?” Aziel spluttered.

  “All of them.”

  “We need a name for this squadron too.” Aziel began to pace. “I’m thinking . . . Flamehearts.”

  “I like it!” Remus cackled at the madness of it all.

  Veida was staring into space, as if trying to solve a puzzle that only she could see. Finally, she shook her head, and came over to embrace her husband.

  The God-Graced didn’t look exactly pleased with their naming conventions, but the rest of them were too caught up in their fun to notice.

  “That leaves us with two more captains for two more teams.” Eshika brought focus back into the room. “May I suggest Violet?”

  Violet blinked. “What?” She pointed to herself. “Me?”

  “I agree that Violet would be a good choice.” Veida nodded. “She is a Warlord equivalent, after all, and nearly as well known as Remus himself. An Unbounded fighting against mortals that align themselves with fiends: the Paladins. It will be quite the show.”

  Eshika seemed to notice the way the girl was shifting. “Do you wish for someone else to be selected?”

  “No, it’s not that.” Violet frowned. “I’m just not sure how people will react with me in my Unbounded form leading them. It'll be difficult for the army to reconcile fighting with the very thing they’ve been taught all their life to hate.”

  “Screw what other people think.” Eshika stepped forward. “Own who you are, Violet. Show those soldiers how strong we all know you to be. People follow power Violet, and once they see what damage you can deal on that battlefield, they’ll be scrambling to be at your side.”

  “Yeah.” Violet stood up a little straighter. “Yeah, forgive me, you’re absolutely right.”

  “Name.” Aziel demanded brusquely. “We need a name for your group.”

  “Let’s call us . . .” Violet thought for a moment. She raised her fist towards the lanternlight above, claws suddenly ripping out her skin. “Talons.”

  Aziel erupted with laughter, but quickly penned the name down alongside the Door-Breakers and Flamehearts. Remus didn’t know if he’d ever seen the man having so much fun.

  “One last captain . . .” Remus looked around the room at everybody present. Each and every one of them would make for a fantastic leader.

  “It’s your call.” Eliane said.

  “Indeed.” The Old One stared at a wall, likely tired of the meeting and wishing for it to be over. “You know your companions better than we ever could Remus. This once, I’ll trust your judgment.”

  Eshika simply nodded.

  Okay then. Remus took a deep breath, eyes roving over the awaiting faces of his friends. I need to think carefully about this.

  He quickly realised that nearly all of them were already assigned to one team or another. Of course, his rebellion housed members in numbers over a hundred thousand. Remus could technically call up on any one of them to take on the position. His instincts had never failed Remus, however, and they wouldn’t trust anyone outside of this room. The men and women who with he’d suffered, and celebrated, and endured through so much

  There really was no choice, was there? It could only ever be one person.

  “Koa.” Remus announced. “You have more reason to be fighting tomorrow than many of us. I know you’ll do whatever it takes to free Ash of Enos' control.” He extended a hand. “Be our third captain.”

  “But I’m only a Foot-solider . . .”

  “You’re well-respected amongst our clan. You’re more pure of heart than a thousand men combined. No.” Remus was certain now. “It can only be you. Besides, with how hard you’ve been training Koa, you’ll break through into Splintered Rank any day now.”

  “You . . . You really mean that?”

  Remus pulled in Koa for a hug. “Of course I do. Now, there’s one last thing you need to do before you can properly call yourself a captain.”

  Koa raised an eyebrow, flushing at Remus’ hold. “And what would that be?”

  “Name your team! Aziel squealed. When every God-Graced in the room looked at Aziel with disdain, he threw his hands up into the air. “What, don’t look at me like that! We’re going to war tomorrow, this is the most fun I’m going to have for a while!”

  The room exploded into cackles, and, to Remus’ great surprise, not even the Old One could wipe a smile off his lips.

  “Better to be merry than sombre before the battle of our lives, I suppose.” The Old One took a deep breath, staring through the window wistfully.”

  “So,” Aziel repeated. “What will it be?”

  “Branches.” Koa raised his head, standing up straighter than he had in Passings. He stood like a King. “I’ve never been good at fancy names, but branches.”

  Aziel rubbed his chin, in much the same fashion as a master artist observing their muse. “A little simple, but in an endearing way. The Door-Breakers, Flamehearts, Talons and Branches. I like it!”

  Remus took a moment to collect his thoughts. He looked at the quaint room around him, the parchment of the map of First Rite clinging to his clammy hands, the sound of his friends and companions excitedly conversing.

  Years of his life, all leading up to this.

  Remus froze. There, in the corner of the room, apparently not noticed by anyone else.

  His younger self, peering over the side of a back entranceway. An impish figure, like a visitor of dreams.

  Seven-year-old Remus grinned, and, before Remus could say anything, faded into dust. Remus felt as if something left his spirit, a shred of power not his own, and, mouth agape, he turned dumbly back to his friends.

  Still talking, not even the God-Graced seemed to have noticed anything awry.

  Thank you. Remus thought silently, turning his attention back to the battleplans. For reminding me of who I am. Of what I have to be.

  To protect everyone in this room; to salvage the future he knew only he could create.The reasons propelling him forward tonight were the same forces that pushed the blood through Remus’ heart. That was the very oxygen he breathed.

  A whole life for this. And Remus could not bring himself to fail.

  It was time to get his hands dirty.