All four friends stood in the window-lighted room in stunned silence. Fang was the only one whose face showed any lack of surprise. Eliot’s body was slightly shaking in fear, and he continued to swallow loudly and often. Zander’s eyes, above everything else, gave away his emotional distress. They continued to widen and his breathing seemed to stop altogether.

Vincent, on the other hand, was surprised in a much different way. Sure, he was taken back by the fact that he was in front of an actual godfather, but he wasn’t scared. Instead, he began to fill up with excitement. For as long as he could remember, he had always been obsessed with mob culture and mob movies. When he was younger, it even reached a point where started to act like them, both in mannerisms and in the way he talked. He looked up to them, believing that they were some of the freest people in the world. They weren’t confined by the laws of the land nor forced to bend a knee to anyone—they had their own code that they would follow. It was an ideal picture that was disconnected from reality.

That sentiment resurfaced within him as he became aware of his situation. In the presence of Archard, Vincent was a tad starstruck, to say the least. That being said, there was a part of him that diluted that excitement. He wasn’t sure what it was, but some part of him felt a bit more hollow and jaded, subtly muting out the colors of his emotions when they reached a certain peak. But in any case, he still smiled at Archard, who stood a bit taller and wider than him.

“Are you for real?” Vincent asked Archard, with a bit of childlike anticipation in his voice.

There was a pause before Archard answered. He looked at Vincent with a curiously amused look and let out a slight chuckle. “Of course,” he answered. He then extended his right, completely metallic arm, forwards. “You are in the presence of the Libra, one of the two biggest powers in the country. But it hasn't always been this way.”

“I was gonna ask about that,” Vincent began to question. “Don’t groups like you tend to work in more subtle ways? Like bribing officials, disguising your operations with a front, and other things like that? No matter how much you gained, you always worked under the already established systems, while not obeying them.”

Looking at Vincent with his eyes still wide, Zander commented, “Since when were you an expert on something?”

“He…” Eliot attempted to interject, “...he’s always loved mob stuff. Don’t you remember when he made us pretend that we were in the Vincent Mob when we were younger?”

“Oh yeah,” Zander answered, “that’s right.”

“Very astute of you,” Archard answered Vincent, “and you would be right. However, times have radically changed. As you saw,” he said, quickly glancing out the windows behind him, “this country, especially this city, has been long-abandoned.”

“That’s pretty strange,” Zander said, starting to gain a little bit of confidence. “What caused the citizens to abandon the entire country? Surely the government would try its best to protect them and try to keep them in.”

“I’m afraid you got his backwards,” Archard countered, turning back around. “It’s not the people who abandoned this once-great nation, it’s the government who abandoned the people.”

“What?!” Vincent and Eliot exclaimed.

“Impossible,” Zander said.

Archard began to make his way around the desk. “It’s true. It happened only a month or so ago, and it happened quickly.” He then leaned against the front of his desk. “It happened when Resonators appeared.”

Vincent, Eliot, Zander, and Fang all shot looks at each other. Each one had a varying degree of worry to them, although Fang seemed to hide it the best.

“Now don’t worry,” Archard spoke up, now standing straight, “I don’t blame these Resonators for the problem—it’s not superpowers that kill people and ruin nations, it’s the people who use them. It’s the person, not the weapon. That’s always been the truth…even before this all began.”

There was a slight release of tension between the four friends. Vincent was visibly the most relieved. In fact, he was nodding in agreement with what Archard was saying. “It’s true,” Vincent stated. “It’s all about what ya choose to do. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Exactly,” Archard replied with a slight smile. “And unfortunately, when Resonators began to appear, other criminal organizations chose violence and destruction. They chose to use their newfound power to oppress the people of this country. They took away their freedom.” He then took a resolute breath and stared at Vincent with an intensity that Vincent had no choice but to admire. “And freedom is power. You can’t be free if there are more powerful people above you, forcing you to make certain choices. That’s what police and other enforcement agencies are for. They don’t exist to serve the laws we make—that’s rubbish that anyone with a brain understands. No, they exist to take down anyone who grows too powerful by selectively choosing what laws to enforce and to who. There’s a reason why not everyone is subjected to laws equally.”

“But wouldn’t that also apply to you?” Zander questioned. “Mobs are also groups that are targeted by the government because they are too powerful.”

“Well…” Archard began to say.

“Let him finish,” Vincent suddenly interjected.

“Vince?” Zander simply asked.

Archard then coughed and began to speak again. “While that is true, although a bit more ambiguous than you think,” he replied to Zander, “we are a mob by name only now.”

“What do you mean?” Zander asked.

Archard started to ball his mechanical hand and grit his teeth. “Our own government—who was made to protect us—ran away like cowards when they actually had to fight. They preserved their own life rather than sticking their necks out for the people.” He then walked back around to the other side of his desk. “I saw this and figured that enough was enough. I decided to use my power to bring power back to the people. I will bring this country back to the way it was with my own hands.”

“And how will you do that?” Vincent asked.

“By eliminating every other underground pest. We’ve already done more than the police ever did.” He then looked each of the friends in the eye. “Almost all of those other horrid mobs have been dealt with and destroyed. The only one that continues to be a pain in my side and continues to hurt the people is Aries. And unfortunately, ever since the beginning, they have been the most wicked and underhanded…like rats.”

Archard pulled out his chair from underneath his desk and sat down, resting his elbows on top of the desk. He took a few seconds of deep, calculated breathing before his demeanor seemed to calm down.

“So anyways,” Archard started to say, “that’s the current situation. I’m sorry,” he looked at Fang, “that we couldn’t have a reunion under better circumstances.”

Stepping forward, Fang finally spoke up. “It’s alright, Archard, we’re well aware of how crazy the world is right now.”

“It really is crazy, isn’t it?” he said with a sigh. “So what can we do for you? I heard from Lawrence that you’re here for something.”

“We are,” Fang answered, “but our plan was just ask you for any information and go to it ourselves. I can see that you’re very busy, so we wouldn’t want to burden you with our problems.”

“Fang,” he said, opening his hands up, “you’re family. You know that you can always ask for our help. So again, what is it that you’re looking for?”

“The obelisk!” Vincent exclaimed.

Archard and Fang both turned and looked at him, however, only Archard said something.

“Ah, that,” he said. “I see.” He took a moment before saying to himself, “Interesting.” Shaking himself out of his thought-ridden demeanor, Archard said, “Out of respect, I won’t ask about your business and why you want to see it.” His face then sunk a bit. “I would love to just show you the way and escort you there, but it’s not that easy right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Let me guess: is it Aries?” Zander asked.

Nodding towards Zander, Archard replied, “That’s right, I’m afraid. They have control of just under half of the city, mainly on the east side, and unfortunately, that is where the obelisk is.”

“Damn,” Vincent said, “I guess we’ll just have to go see it ourselves.”

“Now hold on,” Archard started to say, “I didn’t say that we couldn’t help you.” He folded his hands and there was a slight glint in his eyes. “Libra believes in balance—both in society and with work. We don’t do anything for free, but we also don’t expect anyone to do anything for us for nothing.”

“What are you getting at?” Zander questioned, his inflecting voice carrying his concern.

Archard opened his hands up and then brought each fingertip together in a very “business-like” manner. With an obviously practiced smile, Archard answered, saying, “If we were to escort you to that obelisk, then I would ask something in return.”

“Like what?” Fang asked. Their eyes were somewhat squinted and had a hesitant look to them.

“I just need you to run a little errand for me. Nothing extravagant, but it takes a few hands.” He then looked at each of the friends. “And you all seem like capable individuals.”

“Not a chance!” Zander instantly shouted, quieting the room for a second.

Vincent looked over in surprise. “Hold on, Zander.”

“I’m not working with the mob. They are people who break the law and I’m not going to join them in doing that.”

“Dude,” Vincent said, throwing his hands in the air, “it’s no different than what we were doin’ in Egypt. Besides, you heard the man—these are the good guys.”

“There are no good guys with the mob.”

Vincent rolled his eyes and shifted his focus back towards the godfather. “So what do you want us to do?”

“It’s a simple job,” Archard replied, nonchalantly. “I’ll even send Siegla,” he said, looking at the dark, stoic, muscular woman near the back of the room. “She’ll help with the job. But I can see that you all are a bit torn on whether you want to accept my proposal or not. So feel free to talk it over and come back tomorrow with a decision.” He then looked at Fang. “And by the way, where are you staying?”

“I was planning on taking them to the Black Magic cafe and staying there,” Fang answered.

“Ah, Tom’s place. Good choice. When you see him, tell him that I wish him well.”

“Will do.”

“Well,” Archard started to say, standing up, “I think that concludes our talks for the day. Lawrence will show you out.” He then looked directly at Vincent. “I expect a favorable response tomorrow.”

With that, the group was led out of the house and through the twisting alleyways that they walked through in order to get to the house. After an hour or so of walking, they arrived back in the empty central square. The day was at the later end of dusk and the orange sky was shifting into a more purple hue. The end of the day was near.

Fang and Lawrence exchanged some passing words before splitting up. Fang then led the rest of the friends through the west side of the city. It took about half an hour or so, but the group eventually ended up in front of a quaint and inconspicuous building that faced out towards the street. It was on the corner of a major highway and a small, lesser-known road. The building itself was made of brick and stone, giving it a comfortable, home-like feel. It had one large, rectangular window that faced the street and a slightly chipped, green door that was placed next to the window. Above both of those was a sign that read: Tom King’s Black Magic, which was stylized with black and red lettering.

‘We’re here,” Fang said after a few moments of looking at the building. “Let’s go in.”

Walking into the cafe, the atmosphere could only be described by its aroma. There was a subtle scent of coffee that was ever-present, infused with everything in there. The colors of the room were dark brown and black, muting any sense of extraordinary light. Inside, there were a couple of customers, enjoying their meals and drinks. Towards the back, behind the bar counter, was a single worker. He was an older, white man, probably in his sixties, who was smaller in frame, with average proportions. He had thinning, white hair on his head that made it look like he was trying to hold on to his younger years. That being said, he did have a pure-white mustache that was full, bushy, and it covered most of his upper lip. Atop his elongated nose were smaller than average spectacles that seemed to sometimes slide off of his face when he moved too quick.

As soon as the opening chimes of the front door rang, that man looked over at Vincent and the rest of the group. He stared at the group for a second, but stopped when his eyes landed on Fang.

“My good golly, is that you, Fang?!” the man called out from the other side of the room. He then walked out from around the counter and shuffled up to the group, only occasionally bumping into some of the tables and chairs.

“Tom!” Fang announced with open arms, meeting the man in the middle.

The two of them met and hugged with a casual, warm embrace that just seemed to fit in with the overall atmosphere of the place.

Backing up from the hug, while still holding onto Fang, Tom said, “Look atcha! I swear, you must’ve grown at least a head or so since I last seen ya. It’s good to see ya.” He then patted Fang on the shoulders.

“It’s good to see you too, Tom,” Fang laughed. They then looked back at the group. “These are my friends,” they said to Tom. “This is Vincent, Eliot, and Zander.”

“‘Sup,” Vincent said.

“Hello,” Eliot said with a smile.

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance,” Zander remarked.

“So,” Tom began to say, “what brings you all to England?”

“Just some sight seeing and whatnot,” Fang answered, “and we had a meeting with Archard and them.”

“Ah, I see,” Tom said. “Well it’s too bad the country is how it is right now. There’s not a whole lot to see.”

“Yeah, we figured that out pretty quick,” Fang agreed, chuckling a bit while they rubbed the back of their head. “Oh, and Archard gives his regards.”

Tom adjusted his glasses and replied, “Well tell him that I’m always appreciative of what he does for me, especially now.” He then looked around at the few patrons of the establishment. “And for the rest of this city,” he added.

“I can see that,” Fang commented.

“I’m glad there’s hope in this place now,” Tom said, dropping his demeanor to a solemn one, mixed with some hope. He shook his head and brought back his jovial smile. “Anyway, if you all are staying for an extended period of time, feel free to stay upstairs. Fang knows where to go.”

“I appreciate it, Tom. I always do,” Fang said.

“Thank you,” Eliot said, reciprocating the gratitude.

“I appreciate it,” Zander added.

“Thanks,” said Vincent.

Fang led the group to the back of the store and up the wooden stairs behind the counter. Each step creaked and groaned every time someone walked over it. Vincent found it so amusing, that he continued to step on and off of the loudest step that he found for a few seconds. Eventually, the group ended up at the back of a narrow, wooden hallway. There were only a couple of doors within the hallway, and Fang brought the group to the one farthest to the back.

After pulling back a loose piece of wood towards the bottom of the door, Fang pulled out a key that was placed in it and unlocked the door. The group was then led into the room, and it was just as quaint as the store below. The room itself only had two beds and a single night stand.

As the group all filed their way into the room, Fang locked the door and turned towards the group. With a hardened, serious look that completely contradicted their demeanor downstairs, Fang stated, “We need to talk.”