“We have confirmation: the Board of Operations has unanimously chosen the next Guild Master of Legends Guild. Arlo has won the vote. I repeat, Arlo will be the new Guild Master. I can’t say this is the most expected outcome, but the Board has chosen. He will formally take his new position later this week. We should hear about his pick for Vice Guild Master—which, based on previous precedence—will most likely be one of his former opponents during the succession crisis.”


    “...You’ve been hooked on the whole drama,” I told Dad.


    It was a little bit after midnight, and everyone was asleep. I''d been studying for high-school exams—what was it again? chem?—and decided to grab a snack. There Dad was, though, sitting on the couch, glued to the TV screen. In fact, he’d been following the succession crisis at Legends Guild since the old GM passed. Liberator, that was his name.


    I figured it had to do with his childhood. Dad and Uncle Ali were born and raised in Chicago, home of the Legends. They rarely spoke about their childhood. Whenever Legends came up in conversation, they always switched topics.


    It was a sore spot, a taboo, but I was used to it. We had a lot of taboo subjects in our family.


    Dad continued to stare at the screen as it flashed Arlo’s headshots.


    “Dad?” I asked again. “You okay? Dad—!”


    Dad startled and jumped five feet in the air. Startled me too. When was the last time he’d been shaken like this? His eyes were dark, distant, like the TV was a window down memory lane. “What’re you doing here, conq?”


    I gestured toward the news. “I thought Mom got you off the couch by now. I… I dunno. What’s going on?”


    “It’s…” Dad bit his lip. He wanted to tell me it was nothing, but both of us knew that was a lie. Instead, he put a hand over his mouth like that would be a better answer. This wasn’t the first time he had acted strange, but those moments were few and far in-between. Usually, this was a conversation better left ignored and forgotten.


    But I was here. We were alone. I was worried.


    Something on my face had cracked his armor, and his hand fell to his lap. “I’m…happy that Arlo won the nomination. He’s a good man.”


    Instead of hovering like a stranger, I sat next to him on the couch. “Then why d’you look so tense?”


    He inhaled, the present-day coming back to his eyes. “...It’s a long story, Alex. It has something to do with my past.”


    That right there told me to stop pushing. Dad… My father had been a felon and was locked away for seven years. At the time, I didn’t know the entire story. He wasn’t one of those motivational speakers, broadcasting his past sins over a microphone. Quite the opposite. He kept his repentance to himself.


    Even I—a sixteen-year-old dumbass—knew a part of him had never moved on from that time. He was still locked behind bars, eternally a criminal.


    I cleared my throat. “We oughta head to bed—”


    “D’you think I’m a good man, Alex?”


    What a question to ask your son, huh? I wasn’t ready for it. It stunned me. I blubbered, unable to sift through my shock to find the right words.


    Dad realized his mistake and laughed at himself. His voice was lighter, now. “Right, my bad, that’s… That’s too big of a question to ask, I’m sorry. Just, well, seeing Arlo all over the news, it reminded me of that period in my life. It was a dark time for me, Alex. For years, I thought a second chance was out of my hands. Now that I’m here, with a gorgeous wife and two wonderful children…”


    He stopped and rubbed his lips, then fell backwards against the couch. “It’s nothing.”


    Like I said, we both knew that was a lie. Looking back on our conversation, I knew what he was going to say: “I don’t know if I deserve this life at all.” But he didn’t voice those intrusive words, because there were some things you shouldn’t say to your kids.


    “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” I said against my better judgment.


    “Yeah, it’s not.” He solemnly nodded. “It’s not.” Dad stared straight at me with his piercing green eyes. It turned my blood cold. This was my father: a man standing at six-eight but his heart stood taller. For my entire life, I knew him by his laughter and muscles. Picking me up whenever I fell, patting my shoulder whenever I cried—and tonight when all the doors were shut, he’d laid bare his scars and his ugliness toward the young man that happened to be his son.


    “I…” Dad gulped, his throat sounding dry. “I want you to be a better man than your father. I want you to give something to this world.”


    My throat was impossibly dry too. I swallowed a glob of saliva, my head racing. “Dad—”


    “I’m saying this because your father has made terrible mistakes growing up, because your grandparents weren’t good people. Me and your mother, we’re doing everything to give you a childhood we never had. This is a big ask, I know, but I have faith in you. You will be a greater man, and hopefully, a husband and a father too. As long as you’re a better man than you were yesterday, you can do it.”


    You can’t say something like that and get my hopes up, you know. Being a husband and father are out of the question. I can never be as good of a man as you. It’s impossible. Too many things have happened since that night, Dad. Hangzhou killed that dream, you and Mom with it.


    ***


    “...Alex.” Someone pushed against my shoulder. Ache, ache, ache. “We’re here.”


    I blinked and rubbed my eyes. We were “home.” Guess I daydreamed too much. “Right, sorry.”


    Leo sighed and tapped me again. “Can you walk?”


    Since I left Angels HQ, my injuries and exhaustion dropped on me like an anvil. My entire body was sore as hell. That''s the price for top-quality healing. If it weren’t for the healers and doctors, I’d be staying the night in a hospital and wrapped up tighter than a mummy.


    I shrugged to answer her question. “Don’t know, but I’m not at one-hundred.”


    She rolled her eyes. “Alright, c’mon. I’ll help you out.”


    Leo became my personal caretaker. She kindly opened the door and yanked me from the car. As I expected, my legs became jelly almost instantly. Nearly plummeted onto the pavement, but my useless limbs got shocked back to life. Barely.


    I hooked an arm around Leo’s shoulder, and we were off.


    ***


    “Easy, don’t let him fall like a sack of potatoes…”


    Leo and Uncle Ali eased me onto the couch for some much-needed rest.


    As far as I could tell, extreme soreness was the extent of my post-healing trauma. It should fade into something manageable by tomorrow morning. If not, well, that meant another trip to the doctor’s office. Or overdosing on painkillers.


    “And here’s some water.” Thea plunked a glass of cold water onto the coffee-table, then dragged the table closer so I wouldn''t have to reach far. “That everything, your highness?”


    I glanced at the brat. “A letter of resignation, probably.”


    “Already? Lazy-ass.” She playfully flicked my foot. “One little fight and you''re already throwing in the towel."


    Thea took the adjacent couch, legs crossed, and watched TV. She and Uncle Ali had been glued to the silver-screen since the breakthrough was first reported. Currently, the excitement had died down as investigations were beginning to kick off. As Seraph and Rector said, they were going to “cooperate” with the camps and internationals. By that, they were going to be a real pain in the ass and rightfully so.


    Uncle listened to the annoying and pretentious news-anchors. “Dwyer will probably take over the investigation. The Encampment will fight, but they’ll fold by tomorrow.”


    Thea commented, “I’m confused why the Union sent a malie in the first place. Breakthroughs aren’t handled by the Malie Bureau. That’s for Distortions and Breaches.”You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    “The Union knows more than we thought,” I said, rolling onto my side. “They know the breakthroughs aren''t the issue. The Alternates are, and they''re aware of their existence. That’s malie territory. Since the Big Four are connected, you need an eight-fourteen.”


    Leo leaned against the back of the couch I was laying on. "Regardless, the internationals have a lot of work ahead of them. According to our insider sources, they''re trying to prove the unthinkable: that we''re geddons while staying within legal boundaries. Good luck with that. You know what they say: ‘Swing at the king, you’d better not miss.’"


    She was right. This was a battle of legality and of public opinion. Any little mistake, any little misconduct, it’d be seen as the Global Union once again targeting Angels Guild through unlawful methods. Currently, the public conversation revolved around the Big Four’s competence, giving the internationals momentum. Being dangerously incompetent and willfully malicious were two very different things however, so if Dwyer started pointing fingers too soon… It''d be a blunder that may be impossible to recover from.


    It was an important battle. For them, the stakes were high. They could bring down their biggest enemy or further earn the scorn of castles and high-rankers across the world.


    So what will Seraph and Rector do…? They can either play aggressively and control the conversation, or play safely and wait for an inevitable opportunity.


    As much as I’d like to theorize, I did enough thinking today.


    I rolled onto my back and stared at the barren ceiling and also at a nosy princess looking down at me.


    “What’re you thinking about, Alex?” she asked.


    I shrugged and shifted around. “Everything. My brain’s simultaneously fried and in overdrive.”


    Leo patted the springy backrest. “Sounds like you need calories in your system. Should I heat up some microwavable garbage? We’ll have a family dinner over piping hot trash and spoiled milk.”


    Attacking me with my own words. This was the second-most humiliating defeat I had today. I mumbled vaguely and turned away from her. “I’d rather eat actual garbage.”


    “Yes or no?”


    “Fine, whatever, do what you want.”


    “You’ll taste the best pre-made cooking in your life.” Leo skipped to the kitchen.


    Thea followed and said, “I’m comin’ with. I’m hungry again.”


    Within seconds of invading the kitchen, the girls were arguing about something. Probably about what pasta I preferred or they were bad-mouthing me. Either or, I wasn''t devoting brainpower to listen to their gossip.


    Uncle Ali threw on a random sitcom and turned up the volume. A cleanse from real-life drama. I never thought I’d be glad to hear canned laughter and horrible jokes.


    I said, “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that I’m enjoying this awful sitcom or the unholy concoction being brewed behind me.”


    Uncle took Thea’s spot. “Rock bottom is different for everybody. How''re you feeling, though? Exhausted? Overwhelmed?”


    “Drained,” I answered. “We’re left with more questions than answers, more problems than solutions. That’s how it goes, I guess. All we can do is tackle the next big thing.”


    “All in due time, Alex. At least you’re supported by a team.” He glanced toward the kitchen. My number one supporter was in that room, chatting it up with my little sister who was my number one hater.


    When he mentioned that, though, something popped in my head and I found myself asking: “Speaking of, before we earned our wings, you said you had a small list of candidates? To, you know, ally with?”


    Uncle firmly nodded. “I did. Why do you ask?”


    “Angels was your first pick. What’s your rationale?”


    He chuckled and gestured at the luxurious apartment we get to stay in for free. “Jokes aside, I told you my reasons back then. I’ve committed an ungodly amount of time into studying Kosmos. The more I researched, the more I respected him.”


    “Massive words coming from you.”


    “I’m serious. Kosmos is more myth than man. Can you count the number of times he took a firm stance on a political matter?”


    I shrugged. “It’s not often, I know that. I think, what, once or twice a year? He doesn’t like throwing his weight around.”


    Uncle raised a finger at me like it was a ruler-stick. “That’s right. You can disagree with his positions, but he rarely uses his influence. In fact, he doesn’t want to and prefers to remain neutral. Why?”


    “Because he’s afraid?”


    “He’s incredibly cautious and rightfully so. Kosmos commands the international community of Slayers. Whenever he says ‘jump,’ they’ll jump. Despite wielding this amazing yet unimaginably dangerous power, he chooses to do nothing. It takes a special man to look at our world and choose to not put his weight on the scale unless strictly necessary. In his case, a special man surrounded by decent people.”


    I said, “Seraph and Rector.”


    “Mhm. They’re another reason why I’d ally with Angels Guild. They understand power far better than most in their echelon and wield it appropriately. Not perfectly—no one is perfect—but good enough.”


    “And…” I hesitated, but I spat the words out: “And you’re okay with our arrangement? Once word starts to spread and the wrong people find out you’re an Angel, they’ll raise Hell.”


    Uncle confidently nodded; there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation in his eyes. “They can try.”


    Again, these were massive words coming from my uncle. He wasn’t one to make definitive statements; if anything, he was more cynical and paranoid than I was. For him to sing Kosmos’s praises—especially given his career in the military—it was the highest form of praise a man could give to another.


    I couldn’t help but smile, until a memory crept into my head. That conversation with Dad, on the night Arlo was selected to be the new Guild Master of Legends Guild.


    Uncle Ali saw my smile drop and asked, “What’s wrong?”


    I shook my head. “It’s nothing… Just remembering something.”


    He saw through my bullshit. “Are you sure?”


    “It’s…” My throat felt scratchy. Carefully, I reached for my water, gulped half of it down, and set it back. “I was, erm, I was thinking about Dad again.”


    Hearing his name brought a tinge of lasting grief to my uncle, extending subtly from his lips and to his eyes. “What about your father?”


    “I don’t know, just…” I rested the back of my hand over my forehead. “Do you remember what he wanted most from me?”


    “For you to be a better man than him, of course I remember. Alex—”


    “I’m not talking about me this time.” Memories flashed, and I could faintly hear flapping wings. “Dad always tried to be a better man than he was yesterday, but guess what? Seraph said the same thing just the other day. Angels Guild does all these things, philanthropy and illegal experiments and what-have-you, not because they’re better than the Union. It’s because they want to be. That’s… I can’t exactly hate that.”


    We all had our reasons to believe in Angels Guild. Just maybe…


    Before my uncle could say anything, the microwave erupted in alarm. We heard a “Food’s ready!” from Althea. In a couple minutes, we had two imposter chefs march from the kitchen with four microwavable pastas in their hands. Smelled good at least. Too bad my stomach was going to be pumped full of microplastics, but I''d be fed.


    I groaned and sat up.


    Thea put my “dinner” down. “Fresh cheese, sir.” She sprinkled shredded cheese from a store-brand bag.


    “Where’s it sourced from?”


    “Milk.” Then, Thea delicately placed a fork on my plate. “And silver.”


    “Fantastic. Zero stars.”


    “You can’t appreciate real gastronomy—” (“Don’t use big words.”) “—shut up, asshat.” Thea sat next to me, hot pasta on her lap.


    I wasn’t going to dig in right away; looked way too hot. Last thing I wanted was a burnt tongue alongside a sore body.


    Leo preferred sitting on the ground, using the table for its intended purpose. “What were you guys talking about while we were cooking—?” (“You weren’t cooking.”) “—shut up, asshat.”


    Thea swirled her pasta around with a fork. “I was interrogating her ‘bout the Alternate.”


    Uncle Ali answered for us, “Kosmos. Speaking of, you know the man behind the helmet, right?”


    “Heh.” Leo put an elbow on the table. “Of course. I don’t wanna say too much, but Kosmos and Nathan are… How do I put this? They’re a character and its actor. Two completely different people. Kosmos is a god amongst warriors, while Nathan is a goofy man trying to find time for his family. One day, you’ll meet him.”


    “I’m looking forward to it,” my uncle said. “It’ll be interesting to finally speak with him without filters.”


    ***


    Someone was gently knocking on the door. Phone read four in the morning, what the fuck… I barely had time to sleep, dammit…


    With aching muscles still plaguing me, I slowly climbed out of bed and walked toward the blurry door.


    On the other side was Leo. “There’s been a new development,” she whispered.


    “Motherf—alright, come in.” I let her inside and quietly closed the door. “Is it the internationals?”


    Leo scratched her eyes while shaking her head. “No. Rector didn’t tell you, but he asked Glory and Martials to keep a heads up for anything suspicious, saying a breakthrough may happen on their territory. VGM Jin Tianyou alerted him of a ‘very strange occurrence’ in the Jin Family Manor.”


    My heart was thumping. I did my best to contain my nerves. “What does that mean? We should know it’s an Alternate, right? We have the technology to track them.”


    I recall a short lecture: Sophos and Morgan had repurposed spatial tracking technology—in simpler words, trackers that caught teleportation signals—to detect breach-like signals instead. It mostly caught false-positives due to the constraints.


    Leo told me, “Morgan said it’s far from perfect, especially when it comes to a highly-protected manor outside the city walls.”


    I cursed under my breath. “Fuck, okay. How are we handling this? Who’s going to the VGM?”


    “He asked for you,” Leo said, pale in the skin. “He specifically asked for you and only you to investigate this. Otherwise, he’s going to Agent Dwyer with all the information he has.”


    [Complete: Part 2 - For Humanity]


    [Next: Part 3 - For Mother]