Ferry boats gathered, like arks. Animals pouring out, no different than the earlier assault other than the organization, the numbers, and supplies. Numbers that if left unchecked would continue to grow.

So we crept forward through the grass, low crawling. The darkness our cover and the moon our light, as we watched. Hundreds already, more coming in the distance, but the most worrying difference was the floating lights -

Magic.

Derek produced four propane canisters, as well as another cache of bottles, and already I felt better about our chances. Brandon and I stood up lobbing them high overhead, the bottles following as they soared into the sky, Derek and Jason focusing on their path -

I waited for the shield, some barrier to catch them but it didn't - the bottles landed and fire roared, screams echoing out, and the soldiers panicked, screaming - shrill wails as they flailed and thrashed against the heat, the others outside the flame turning in horror.

They didn't move swiftly, not to mount a defense. A few of them had weapons out, some dropped them, others pointed them into the night wildly -

And then the first container exploded, from back here it knocked me off my feet, so much stronger then I had expected. The massive firebomb - then darkness again, as the ignited grass was pushed flat, their heat briefly blown out -

Silence -

My ears ringing, before the flame again erupted, and I realized what I was looking at, what it had to be. Not soldiers as I had seen and expected, but a militia. That the only explanation for how these 'soldiers' responded, or were they even soldiers -

*Boom* *Boom*

Maybe relief, to help those had been attacked. Maybe they thought they were coming to fight. But the way they clutched the weapons, unsure, unready - I'd held a weapon the same way once before I knew - my father's guns.

*Boom*

They'd forgotten how to fight. They didn't need to anymore. They'd killed all the predators, the carnivores - long ago. They lived a life of leisure.

The boats unloading , one was in growing flames already, another trying to escape the shore - we moved in sweeping , arrows flying, seizing the opportunity of their confusion, and we slaughtered them. I don't think any of us so much as took a single point of damage - as we mopped up.

Our motions in concert as we stalked, arrows flying, I threw bone spears like shot quills, impaling those that tried to flee, then we moved in circles, my inventory was already stuffed like a mass grave so I left the twisted bodies. When the shadows of the night no longer fled but merely twitched and groaned, our movements switched.

And we cut off the calls for mercy, the weeping and moaning, the sobs of pain. Sounds of weakness.

The irritation that I felt at the lack of climax, the lack of tension. That there hadn't been a fight at all now grated against me, that we had been pushed harder by crabs -

Herbivores. Leisure.

And the coins were collected, that I reaped them like wheat - that this time we did celebrate, returning back to the pyramid.

"An entire army!" Derek shouted, Mike's eyes wide -

The family, the kids mostly asleep but the adults sat at the table, drinking coffee - chatting.

"Quick thinking." Jason added, shaking his head - a flash of worry, "They were piling up, readying to attack. If Cody hadn't seen them? If Derek didn't have a way."

"They had magic!" Derek added, "Weapons and numbers, ships! They were gathering for an assault, probably before the morning."

The look of guilt on Mike's face, the torn expression as I watched his eyes harden. Was he our barometer? If Brandon was fire and I oak? If Derek was water, and Jason ice?

Mike was light - he is clarity and conviction, his colors a reflection of all of us.

Our cheer spread - as our noise woke others up, and we began to share stories -

Because the four of us had seen something. Something terrible, horrible. In a way it was as devastating to me as the loss of freedom I'd experienced. We'd caught the edges of a society of pure decadence. And a future path where we were completely successful, that we protected all that we cared about -

Had perfect lives, then grew old and died. Thankful our families didn't have to suffer as we had. Thankful we had rid them of the menace, had purged society of every enemy and finally made them safe -

"And that's when it got Brandon, he'd almost made it, was almost out of reach. I was terrified - it had a hundred eyes, a paralyzing touch, more powerful than all of us combined. I could hardly hold my bow - I was a coward."

Gasps, and Derek knows how to tell a story. the children would have nightmares. We hoped.

My whole family saw my Cowl - they knew what we were capable of, and were beginning to understand how that came to be, the changes. They saw what was offered as I passed out eggs for everyone old enough to hatch one, we boosted stats and saw new clarity.

Derek and Jason expanded the pyramid, and new bonds were made -

SKIP, SKIP, SKIP -

Helicopters -

Military support, not just police -

As I exploded once again from the Potomac, no longer was there warnings called out, but aerial vehicles moving in tandem, wide nets between them - roads blocked and warning sirens, a kicked ant pile.

My body tingled - it felt like Brandon's power on me, just far weaker, some sort of weapon. There were huge booms - bursts of air that shot broke my arms, twisting my wings back, and then I was tumbling, falling - tear gas canisters laughed over my path before I collapsed into the ground.

They were serious - just not dead serious -

I popped a potion, I would have healed fine, but I needed my arms -

Make them laugh -

Riot gear, rushing me - bulging bullets, bean bags fired and hit, missed completely, exploded in a mess of plastic pellets on the ground -

My confused expression, almost panicked -

Cameras zoomed in - to catch the chase - to chase the catch -

And me. Just standing there, an entire army arrayed against me. A young man realizing that he had mad a huge mistake. Dressed like -

A chicken?

I fluttered my wings, swinging my head left to right as they circled me, and this time I began to run. Not my full speed, not to escape - just barely fast enough.

That these trained, solid men moved in slow motion? And I was off - a professional footballer against elementary students, I looked like Brandon playing soccer with the younglings of Mike's family - except they hit him, kicked him - bounced off.

For me, they couldn't even touch me, as I bounced out of their reach, leading them onto the cleared streets, they tried circling me, tried cutting me off, tried tackling me and forming walls around me -

Shouting into their headsets, coordinating their methods of trapping me, closing in from all angles -

Dive, duck, dodge, spin -

They were panting, exhausted, frustrated. They put of walls of shields that I hopped over - they chased me in squad cars - played chicken, I took the hit and tumbled over, letting go a spray of feathers from inside then jumping up - taking off in a new direction.

And even from some of them I heard it - hard men, as they did their job -

Laughter -

Breaking through their ranks, even around the grunts of frustration. That they didn't see me as a monster, perhaps an imbecile, definitely a troublemaker -

I shook my ass at them. Taunting them - their weapons exploding against me like a nerf gun war. Cussing -

Get him!

And they were trying - but I wasn't hurting any of them, they heard me laughing, they were laughing - they felt stupid, thought I was stupid -

That some of them were men -

And it broke - the discipline, instilled - because I didn't let them feel bad, or mean. They couldn't hurt me, didn't really want to -

And they were swinging their batons, bouncing off me, shields crashing - chasing me, some had fallen to the ground, not injured but -

Laughing.

As their friends, their brothers dove at me, wrapping me. I had one on each leg holding tight, I was dragging them behind me. The charged me in a group - a phalanx like linebackers, and I lowered my head into them, they bounced off -

Some had stopped chasing me completely, just blinking their eyes in shock, not knowing how to react -

A few got right back up after being bowled over, had dropped their shield and baton and was coming after me again, all of us ignoring - megaphones echoing a clutter of orders, their radios just as garbled - more joining the fray and then they were dog piling on top of me.

Enough weight had been added, that I was now in the center of a pyramid of half frustrated, half laughing militant minds, when I sent out my message and vanished again -

Sand - The pyramid - our families.

Revolutionaries -

But still family. The kids darted off, eaglets on their shoulders playing and laughing - they were the quickest to recover from the pain. The quickest to adapt and put it behind them, to forgive and move on. The adults were more considering - still finding their place.

But barriers were being dropped, we were learning, and everybody found a way to contribute, had their wishlists fulfilled in the short break, they knew what they needed and Jason and Brandon got it for them.

Already Mrs. Arroyo was admiring her new propane fueled kitchen covering Brandon in praise as he screwed hoses into canisters, she ran her fingers over the sleak stainless steal appliances as her husband filled a generator with gasoline.

My own mother was decorating, turning the cold stone interior of the pyramid into something a bit warmer - already I could sense the tension as my Grandmother reached for patriotic blue fabric that would cover the walls - poor Derek. When paint was put on the list...

Mrs. Arroyo wanted maroon. We did our best to remind the ladies that this was only a temporary shelter, to not get too involved, and then promptly retreated because apparently we know nothing -

My briefly entertained dreams of a wall of of mounted trophies, a grand hall with high backed chairs and massive fireplaces quickly was partitioned off into a multipurpose room with basketball courts, chalk lines, filled with toys of skill -

Derek lost his treasure room. His geek gear stacked at a desk as it became our barracks and man cave, sanctuary and sleeping quarters. We would need more room, more privacy - if we were doing anything inside more than sleeping -

"It's working." Derek explained, "People are spreading the message, the video. Overall, the mainstream opinion is nobody is really taking it seriously. They think it's just funny. It's turned the government's response into a joke. They pushed hard immediately that you were dangerous, and have tried to maintain the momentum of it - but people just aren't believing it."

I nodded.

"Andrew, the Department of Homeland Security resigned, apparently There's nothing regarding him or his department, he hasn't been seen or heard from publicly other than statements. They're partly blaming the botched response on him, but nobodies following."

I frowned at this. I hadn't decided yet rather I liked him or not, I'd reserved judgement for after I knew if I was going to kill him.

"But what we're trying to do now is hit a tipping point. People are still undecided as to what to think, and we need at least ten percent of the population to be in favor of the dungeons, preferably ten percent of the population entering them. Right now I estimate it's still less then two percent."

"That's it!" I shouted.

Everybody looked at me like I'd asked if a bull had tits. Even Brandon.

"Cody, that's over a million people that have gone through a dungeon in the US alone."

"I understand the math. I just thought -" Wrong. What were the odds? I guess I had just assumed that more people had been caught like me, but it should have been obvious. It hadn't been three months since the doors had opened. I slumped back in my chair.

Jason looked at me eyes wide, muttering, "Thank god he didn't want to be in charge."

Mike eyed him - as Brandon laughed and Derek shook his head -

The numbers were too big for me to really comprehend, that even if the dungeons were being cycled through as fast as possible - how long would it take to get up to ten percent? At this rate years -

"I just thought it would be faster..."

"It's because you're fighting. Think of how the average person's day works. They wake up, take the kids to school, go to work and work all day -"

"Or all night." Mike added.

"They get off, they don't go online and read, the small amount of time left for fun, they spend it with their families or maybe watch a bit of tv together if they're tired, then do it again."

It sounded terrible. That I had watched my own family do it for years and not realized it, of course they had a few hobbies, church and - what, lawn care? And me - that was their entire lives.

"We need to make them jealous." I said - and of course that was what Derek already was doing, so I shut my mouth and listened - Brandon squeezed my shoulder, half pulling me back into my chair, half hitting the knot of muscle that had been forming there -

Impatience. Did I really have to drag every single US citizen through a Door to get them to see? Because I would - if that's what it took.

"We've established you as non-threatening, as long as they maintain that stance, and we adhere to it - it continues to be a game of chicken."

We all chuckled. Fucking Derek.

"Now our objective is simple, and well within your rights. I'm handling the backend messaging, but Cody - your goal is to meet the President, to ask him questions, you're going to continue making your way to the White House, just as you intended - just don't hurt anybody. The families are going to publicize us. People that knew us -"

"Derek?" Jason interrupted.

"What?"

"Do you got this shit?"

He nodded -

"Then lets fucking go do something. Cody knows what he needs to do. The family knows what they need to do. There's a fucking whole world out there-"

We were standing, stretching - shitty meeting adjourned -

Exploration beckoned, we'd all seen it - as we poked our heads out, making sure it was safe, and we could take a moment to organize but now it burned -

Curiosity. A taste of adventure - and maybe?

"Let's go get my castle." Jason was the first one out the door.