Back inside of Libra’s headquarters, Vincent, Eliot, Zander, Fang, Siegella, and the rest of Libra were gathered inside the main living space. The room itself was spacious and devoid of most furniture, besides the two couches on either end. The glass-tipped chandelier above shone brightly, giving a bit of contrast to the evening sky that was beginning to grow more and more orange.

Besides Siegella and Archard, the rest of the people that were gathered there were unfamiliar. The first person that caught Vincent’s attention was the large, titan-sized man who stood towering over everyone else. He was bald, fairly tan-skinned, and he rarely spoke up the entire time Vincent looked at him. He was surrounded by a few other grunt-like mobsters in suits. Looking next to the big man, Vincent saw another guy. He was taller and thinner than most people, and he carried himself in a slightly meager way. His hair was bob-cut, and he stood more towards the back of the room, next to the large man. Although he did contribute to the conversation, occasionally he would dissociate and then jump back into the conversation with a completely different attitude and demeanor.

Eventually, Vincent’s eyes landed on a woman who was smaller in frame, but whose voluminous, curly, and plump hair made up for the height difference. She wore a tighter, business-like dress, and had extremely rounded glasses that sat at the end of her nose. She was constantly making her opinions known to Archard and Siegella, who were standing next to her.

Past her, however, was a truly interesting figure. With his back pressed up against the corner of the room, sitting oddly still, was an average-looking man. On top of his head rested a perfectly round and pristine bowler hat, which helped to partially obscure his face. He never engaged in any sort of conversation, and instead, his eyes did all of the talking. Those carefully narrow and observant eyes, much like those of a hawk, bounced back and forth between each and every person. When they landed on Vincent, both his and Vincent’s eyes remained locked for a brief second. There was something intriguing behind his eyes—it was something that Vincent couldn’t see, but it was something he sensed.

The front door slammed open and a familiar, bulbous man stumbled his way through, panting as he entered the room. His appearance caused most of the Libra members to suddenly turn and face him before going back to their conversation. Only Archard continued to look at the man.

“Damn it, Lawrence,” Archard said. “This is an important meeting. I can’t have you running late like this.”

Lawrence made his way towards the outer perimeter of the conversation and began to speak, catching his breath in between every few words.

“I’m sorry…I was just…getting something to eat,” Lawrence replied. He then took a few more seconds to slow down his breathing. “I was on the other side the city and I didn’t know that—”

“I don’t care,” Archard replied, dismissively. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, boss,” Lawrence said, somewhat submissively.

Archard then straightened his back and addressed the entire crowd. “My family,” he said, his voice booming, “thank you for gathering here on such short notice.”

The talking instantly ceased, and any idle conversation hushed itself. There was a still reverence within the space—one that understood its place and obeyed the power at hand. Everyone's eyes seemed focused on the larger than life godfather that stood in the center of the room. Hell, even Eliot, Zander, and Fang silently gazed at the man.

“There has been a shift,” Archard continued, “there has been a shift in the powers at work. As you know, we have been fighting against those who wish to threaten our dear country… and we have been successful.” He then began to pace around the room, extending his hands out in selective gravitas. “We have dismantled all of those criminal organizations that plagued our land. We have protected the people of this country from them. Well,” he said, stopping in his tracks, “all but one.”

Archard turned and faced the gathered crowd. His face was hardened, and that sturdiness was reflected in the mob that surrounded him. It was like a silent, yet universally understood conversation was taking place in each of their minds. It was as if they knew the implication of every word he spoke.

“This one gang—Aries,” he said, “had the nerve to control the heart of our home. But we’ve driven them back. Yes, we’ve driven them back, forcing them to the East side, and that has been our war.” There was a glimmer in his eye. “I thought that victory was assured, and assured soon. However, there has been a shift.” He then took a deep, empowering sigh. “Like it always seems to happen with this group, just as victory was in the palm of our hand, it slipped away. And this time, the reason is much worse.”

There was a hushed, tense murmur that roominated through the space. It passed along from one side to the other, changing with each new question that was added. Eventually, those quiet conversations reached Vincent’s ears. The whispers spoke of disbelief, wonder, and most of all, hatred—a hatred for one, singular group.

“As you all know,” Archard continued, “for a while now, there has been an external threat known as the Slayer. They have roamed the street, undeterred by the chaos, killing our brothers and sisters. I figured we would take out this lone wolf as soon as we were done with Aries, seeing as we were so close. But the truth of the matter is more dire than I thought. Thanks to the information relayed to me by our one and only Siegella—”

Before he could even finish, the crowd started to clap and cheer her name. There were shouts of respect and admiration. But just as quickly as they came, they left in the face of Archard’s words.

Motioning towards Vincent and the rest of his friends, Archard said, “Thanks to the help of Siegella and these fine people, I have uncovered something sinister. I don’t wish to believe it, but as I have suspected for a while now, it appears that the Slayer and Aries aren’t two separate things. Rather, because of the fact that our fellow Libra men and women—who were in a secret location—were murdered and bore the mark of the Slayer, I cannot deny it anymore. I believe that the Slayer is part of Aries.”

The room was absent of sound. Even the lights that were once sparkling started to dull. The confidence that each and every mobster in the room was showing before disappeared. The confidence that they had, even when Archard mentioned shifting powers, was once full of habitual repetition, familiarity, and expectation. But all of that was devoured by silence the moment the Slayer was mentioned. Eventually, through what must have been an act of God, someone spoke up.

“Alright,” the nasally voice said, “so what’s the plan?”

Everyone’s heads turned to look at who broke the stillness of the moment. Looking at where the voice originated, it was clear that it came from the elusive mobster in the corner—the one who was by himself.

“Ah, Lucky Larry,” Archard addressed the man, “that is the question, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t it always?” Larry replied, walking towards the godfather. He always had his hands in his pockets, and his back was slightly hunched, making it so the light never quite reached his face.

“Well, the plan is as it’s always been: take down our threats,” Archard replied.

“You know that ain’t gonna fly with me,” Larry countered. He was now right next to the head of the family. “I keep your speeches of promises and how we can beat these guys, but I’ll tell you how it really is.”

“As you always do,” Archard said with a face that subtly portrayed some slight annoyance.

“Arch, you know we don’t got the might,” Larry said, “you know that. Siegella is strong, but Haunlich can’t do shit.” He then looked at Siegella, who had her eyebrows furled. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. Big Al and Vito,” he said, motioning towards the titan and the dissociating man, “don’t even have powers, and they're our number two and three fighters. And hell, Paulette,” he said, looking at the short, business woman, “can’t even fight. She can make a helluva plan, but that don’t mean shit if we ain’t got the muscle to back it up.”

“What are you trying to say? Archard asked.

Turning back towards Archard, Larry responded, “We can’t fight them both. We don’t have the ace up our sleeve anymore, Arch—you know that. We lost her during that last fight.”

There was a wave of immediate dread and depression that coursed through the air. It was so heavy in fact, that even someone like Vincent could feel it.

“Arch,” Larry continued, “there’s no way we can take them both on with what we got.”

Archard looked at him with a deep, solemn expression for a few seconds. Their eyes seemed locked on each other as if they were speaking without words. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Archard spoke up.

“So what do we need?” he asked. “Money? Guns? People?”

“Resonators,” Larry simply stated. “And not some dumbass lightbulb makin’ ones, either. We need powerful ones.”

“And how do you expect me to do that? I can’t just make them appear out of thin air,” Archard countered. “Resonators aren’t magnetically attracted to me.”

“Go and find some,” Larry said. “Recruit some.”

“As if it were that easy,” Archard argued. He was beginning to show signs of subtle anger. “There’s none around here.”

“That ain't my problem,” Larry said.

Archard and Larry continued to argue. Meanwhile, Vincent was deep in thought. There were many things and ideas that came and went in his head—thoughts that clashed and disappeared. But for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about those empty London streets that he walked. He thought about the hollow winds and the desolate market square. He thought about the street lights that flashed for no one. He thought about the people that were huddled in the cafe, and how they were at peace in there, but not when they left. Above everything else, he thought about the Terragong.

The image of those bodies that were crushed against the pavement lit a dormant spark in him—one that was getting harder to light by the day. As he thought about those bodies, his mind drifted to the scene of the brutally killed people in that house. The fact that their bodies were killed in a way that made them unidentifiable fueled the fire in his heart. With that flame, he stepped towards the arguing pair.

“I can’t do that!” Archard yelled.

“And neither can I,” Larry responded. “If you think that—”

“I can help,” Vincent stated.

“What?” both Archard and Larry asked.

“I’m a Resonator,” Vincent said, “I can fight.”

Archard then looked at Larry and then back at Vincent. “Boy, I appreciate that, but this isn’t a child’s game,” he said. “I can’t risk the lives of Fang’s friends and—”

“I want to fight,” Vincent sternly replied. “I have powers and I’m strong.”

“Listen—” Archard started to say.

“No, you listen,” Vincent adamantly countered. “I’ve beaten a kraken, I’ve fought countless other Resonators, and I’ve even taken out Lucretia.”

“Lucretia?” Archard asked with a hint of recognition in his voice.

“And above all that shit,” Vincent said, “I’m the Chosen—the one that the obelisk talked about.”

There was a pause. There was a moment in time where Vincent and Archard were the only two people, and they continued to look at each other with pure will behind their eyes. With neither side giving in, it slowly became a stalemate.

“It’s true,” a voice said, breaking the silence.

Turning around, Vincent saw that the voice belonged to Fang.

“I can vouch for what Vince is saying,” Fang continued. “He’s not lying about what he’s saying—he’s strong. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Fang, are you sure?” Archard asked. The look in his eyes drastically changed. As opposed to the high-and-mighty look they had, they now boasted one of respect.

“He is strong,” Fang stated. “And for the record, I am also a Resonator with a strong ability. And I lost when I fought against him.”

Archard’s taken back gaze landed back on Vincent. As opposed to before, there was a little bit of give in his demeanor.

“Then let me ask you this,” Archard said, “why do you want to fight?”

“Because the fact that people can’t even choose to live makes me angry,” Vincent answered. “I look around this place and it pissed me off. People shouldn’t suffer because of the choices of others. This city shouldn’t hurt because a few bad guys chose to abuse it. So I guess that’s why.”

For a solid minute, the godfather himself just stared at Vincent. He looked at him long and hard before ever saying a word.

“Very well,” Archard finally said, nodding his head. “Very well. If that’s what you want, then who am I to stand in the way of a young man’s dream?” He then extended a hand outwards towards Vincent. “Welcome to Libra.”

***

Back at the Black Magic cafe, in their shared room, the four friends were gathered around. The sky was already dark and plastered with stars, and the singular window in the room allowed a stream of moonlight in. Besides the moon, the only other source of light was a lightbulb that was affixed to the center of the ceiling. In this cozy, albeit dimmed room, those friends were partway into a argument

“It’s just reckless, Vince,” Zander argued, throwing his hands in the air.

Vincent, who was sitting on a bed with a knee cocked in the air, responded, “Nah, I don’t think so. I mean, look, how else are we gonna stop Aries?”

“Who said anything about stopping Aries?” Zander countered. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Well, yeah, but you saw what they’ve been doin’ to these people,” Vincent replied. “We can’t just stand around and do nothing.”

“Yes we can,” Zander argued. “We’re not here to free a few people in a city, Vince—we’re here to see the obelisk. We have a grander mission than this.” He sighed and took a few seconds to gather himself. “I get it,” he said. “Once you have an idea in your head, you just run with it—I know this. But please, just hear me out. It’s noble to want to help people, but you have to look out for yourself. You can’t save everyone.”

“I can certainly try,” Vincent confidently replied.

“And you’ll die,” Zander responded, his eyes slightly deadened and serious. “Joining Libra is a death sentence, Vince. I don’t want to see you do this. You’re way over your head. You’re not going—”

“What are you talking about?” Vincent asked. “How is this any different than what happened in Egypt? We saved hundreds of people by kicking Lucretia’s ass.”

“It is different,” Zander stressed. “We were only dealing with a single criminal mastermind and a bunch of rich assholes. This is on a whole different spectrum. You are talking about taking on an entire criminal organization—people who live by bringing violence upon people. They are professional law breakers and murderers. It’s too much.”

“Then what do you wanna do?” Vincent asked, standing up out of the bed. “What other option is there, huh?”

“We lay low,” Zander answered, “ until Libra takes out Aries—seeing as Archard was so confident that they could—and then we make our way to the obelisk.”

“So you’re saying we do nothin’, right?” Vincent said. “We just cower with our tail between our asses?”

“It’s not about being a coward, it’s about being smart,” Zander argued. “And I did not say that we were doing nothing. According to Libra, the only issue they seem to have is the fact that the Slayer is joining up with Aries. We’ll just figure out who the serial killer is and get them locked up. That way, Libra can do all the work with Aries.”

“Oh is that all?” Vincent sarcastically replied.

Zander rubbed his temple. “You know, I’ve busted multiple criminals before,” he stated. “This wouldn’t even be my first time solving a murder case. I worked under my mother for years doing this stuff.”

“Yeah…” Vincent half-heartedly conceded. “But I still can’t sit around and do nothin’. I think this is the best option we got.”

“No,” Zander immediately said, “it’s the first option we got. Eliot,” he said, now looking at Eliot, who was meagerly sitting on the bed that was towards the back of the room, “please talk some sense into him.”

“I…” Eliot started to say, “...I actually kind of agree with Vince.”

“What?” Zander said with his mouth hanging slightly agape. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Eliot responded with soft, firm eyes—much like a pillow. “I can’t bear watching all these people suffer, and I want to help them.” He then walked next to Vincent. “These innocent people are being hurt and killed by Resonators, and we’re the only ones who have the power to fight them. Why shouldn’t we fight?”

“Because you could die,” Zander sincerely replied. “And I can’t stand the thought of either of you dying, especially you, Eliot.”

Eliot gave a warm smile. “I know, but I still want to do this. I’m going to be joining Libra with Vincent.”

With a dejected look, Zander turned his attention towards the last friend. “Fang?” he said.

“I,” Fang started to say, walking over towards Vincent and Eliot, “am also going to go with Vincent.”

“I see,” Zander said. He then took a moment to think to himself. There were many things he considered, but none of them ever overwrote what he believed to be the best option. “I cannot follow you all,” he eventually stated. “I’m sorry, I don’t trust them for a second. I can’t.”

“Why?” Eliot asked. “They’re the good guys.”

“Yeah, they’re the ones tryin’ to stop Aries from killing more people,” Vincent added.

“Vince, El,” Zander said, “it’s never that simple. No one who understands power ever uses it for good. At a certain point, there are no such things as good guys. That’s something I’ve come to understand.”

There was an extended period of silence, as the realization of what was to come hung within the air. There wasn’t a tenseness, so to speak, but rather there was a layer of anticipation. Every party in that room felt the same thing, and none of them moved or said anything for a time.

“So what now?” Vincent eventually said. “What happens now?”

“Well,” Zander started to say, “...I think this is where we part ways for now.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Vincent reluctantly said, scratching his head. He then reached his hand out towards Zander. “Well, best of luck, dude.”

Zander looked at Vincent’s genuine eyes and then down at his outstretched hand. “Same to you,” he said, shaking Vincent’s hand. “We got this. We’ll make it through this.”

Vincent smiled and said, “Of course. We always do.”