“What are they doing?” Lily watched, just as bewildered as Caeden, as thousands of shrouded boarded their etherships, seemingly ready to come and attack the destroyed and desolate husk of the flagship.

“They probably figured that the suppression field was gone.” Surprisingly, it was Erik that jumped in with an answer.

“Oh, of course they would.” Caeden shook his head. The flagship moved, and suddenly everyone could use their shrouds freely? Of course they assumed that the field was destroyed. Or rather, most everyone coming their way probably didn’t have any real understanding of what had been happening. But the ginormous ethership was such an obvious target that, now that they had their shrouds unhindered, everyone wanted to extract their pound of flesh.

And, Caeden was quick to realize that the mass of angry shrouded had little in the way of alternatives to vent their anger. The Bladeborne had taken down most of the armada in the meantime, leaving little for the shrouded to focus on besides the flagship.

“But the suppression field is still active.” Lily commented. “I wonder when they’ll hit it. We never actually checked the total area it covered.”

It wasn’t hard to notice when that question was answered. Several shrouded had been, unwisely, flying alongside etherships or attached themselves to the outside of the vessels with their shrouds. After they reached the outermost parts of Baserock underneath them, all of those shrouded dropped out of the air.

Cat sighed. “I got them. Idiots.”

A muttered spell called up dozens of Wraiths to catch those falling. They weren’t the only ones to notice the change, as all the shrouded on the makeshift armada faltered as soon as they felt the effects of the suppression field resume.

They also seemed to notice Cat’s intervention. From there, Caeden could almost see the thoughts running through their heads. They knew the suppression field was still active, but here was a shrouded using an obvious expression of aura, unhindered.

The greed and desperation that followed was more disheartening than it was hard to predict. Seemingly without a signal, all the ships turned from the flagship’s husk to head toward Caeden’s team.

“We could just not deal with them. We hold all the cards right now.” Dave threw out, catching onto the circumstances immediately. “Tactically speaking, they don’t have a single leg to stand on. And they’re going to try and push you around, if previous interactions are anything to go by.”

“I’m supposed to dropping that thing,” Caeden hooked his thumb in the direction of the engine room, “into the Forge here in a minute. I don’t want any of these idiots getting any ideas when that happens and screwing it up. And they absolutely would. If for no other reason than spite. Or sheer stupidity. And I’m not risking whatever mayhem could be caused by that.”

Dave merely shrugged in response. “I’ll be ready when it falls apart then.”

“We don’t know that it’s going to fall apart.” Lily added.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“What? I can’t be optimistic?” She glared back. “I know what’s going on, I’m just trying to be positive about it.”

“I can’t see any way that a group of shrouded from five different countries all mixed together while they feel the most vulnerable they’ve possibly ever felt in their entire lives, confronting the possible solution to that vulnerability, not ending in some kind of violence.” Caeden sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling exhausted. The break they’d taken couldn’t have seemed farther away than in that moment.

There was a not insignificant part of him that had been…while not happy, relieved, when the assault began. The moment it did, shrouded politics ceased to matter, and he could simply act as he felt was best, without compromising with a bunch of empowered and entitled children living in the bodies of thousand-year-old warmachines.

Now, they were right back in it, but the situation was so much worse. All for the simple fact that they had something everyone wanted, freedom from the suppression field. And Caeden had no doubt that the oncoming group would do anything to get it. And none of them were used to hearing ‘no’.

And there was absolutely no way that Caeden was going to give it to them. Not in a million years. The moment he did, the shrouded would most likely commence a wholesale slaughter of every unshrouded they could. Some would do it to vent their anger, some out of fear. And some simply because they could.

Caeden was under no illusions. The Revolution had started an all-out war. One in which the shrouded would see all unshrouded as complicit, simply because they didn’t care about any nuance. They’d thought they were going to win, because they were being misled. Caeden’s team had disabused them of that notion.

That left him and his friends stuck in the linchpin position. They had roundly denied the Revolution their genocide, and they were going to have to do the same with the shrouded. The only thing holding back the approaching horde was the threat of a suppression field popping up on top of them and rendering them helpless. Or as close to it as a shrouded could get.

Of course, Dave was right. He and his friends were the only ones that could use their auras. They essentially held all the advantages here. Caeden wasn’t worried about the oncoming shrouded threatening them physically, though they definitely would. He just didn’t want to deal with them.

The team let the intervening time pass in silence. There wasn’t any kind of plan that needed to be made. They were just going to tell all the shrouded no and deal with whatever happened next. It wasn’t exactly a complicated situation.

Caeden rolled his eyes as the etherships decided to circle around them, surrounded them from all directions in a cocoon of ether and metal. Not that it would have stopped them from leaving. After spending so much time dealing with Revolution ethertech, these ships were pitiful in comparison. They had no shields, and no offensive weapons to speak of. After all, the shrouded were supposed to be the weapons on the ethership.

A man stood at the prow of the ship directly in front of them, standing tall and proud, arrogantly glaring at them with a displeased expression. Caeden immediately felt his patience and goodwill bleeding rapidly the more he had to look at the man.

“I am Grand Marshal Xerxes of the Fire Kingdom. Who are you and from where do you hail?”

“Caeden of the Central Authority.” He crossed his arms, unimpressed with the grandstanding. In the back of his mind, Caeden wondered what kind of political maneuvering and fighting had led to a member of the Fire Kingdom being the one to confront them.

“Do all of you hail from the Central Authority?” Xerxes asked, looking across the group.

Caeden shrugged. It wasn’t true for Dave, but he wasn’t about to offer up an explanation of his origins. “Pretty much.”

The arrogant expression on Xerxes face blossomed into a cruel sneer and a twisted smile. “Then I shall inform you that your leaders are dead or missing. The ‘Central Council’ (Caeden could practically feel the disdain rolling off those words) was slain during the course of the attack on the island of Baserock. As such, your nation has been annexed by the Fire Kingdom, and you are now its vassals. Submit yourselves to my leadership!”

Caeden…had not been expecting that. But considering what they’d learned from Erik’s brother about the Ten Thousand Empires being complicit in the assault and with Caeden having personally slain their defacto leader, it made sense that the Fire Kingdom would step into the power vacuum left by the Central Council as the CA’s only other neighbor. But that still left one question.

“What about Damon Vestigious?”

Xerxes huffed, seemingly annoyed at their lack of deference. “Missing, presumed dead. Either way, he alone cannot stand before the might of the Fire Kingdom. Now submit!”

Caeden glanced at Cat, who shrugged. He took that to mean she wasn’t worried about her grandfather. Which, as far as Caeden’s understanding went, was a reasonable position. Damon was supposed to be stronger than any of the Central Council, and he was a clever old man. Plus, he would have known what to do when the suppression field came down, having already dealt with it once.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Caeden waved off the pompous shrouded. “I don’t feel like it, and you’ve got no way of enforcing it.”

Xerxes's face turned red, his eyes bulging in rage. “You dare! Such arrogance! I’ve never seen you before you, little worm! I do not know your name, nor your likeness! You are no one, and you shall listen to your betters! Now, submit, and reveal the method to resist the damnable force that confines our shrouds!”

And there it was. Caeden would say he was surprised at the man’s blunt method of addressing his real goal, but that would be a lie. Shrouded acted like sledgehammers more than scalpels, and the Fire Kingdom was more notorious for that behavior than most.

And those words had such an obvious effect. As one, every shrouded close enough to listen leaned forward, as if they expected Caeden to just cave in and spill the secret at the first sign of a threat. And they did, he realized. They expected him to fold instantly. And Xerxes had said exactly why. None of them had heard of him, they didn’t know his appearance or name. And that made him unimportant.

Caeden smirked. Maybe he should correct their oversight.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear.” Caeden started, Physical Enhancement flowing into his body and expanding his size to over twelve feet tall, towering over the suddenly much less impressive Xerxes. “I don’t recognize your authority over me. And I don’t have to.”

Dozens of blades of all sizes and shapes started to appear in the air around him, pulled directly from the Forge to aim at all the shrouded surrounding his team. “Because although you might not know me, I don’t know you either. But I do know this.”

“None of you could survive me.”

And that was when Caeden pulled Noodle from the Forge. His bonded dragon already knew what was happening, having learned from Father. He expanded over everyone’s head, filling the sky with blazing, molten, sinuous bulk that overshadowed the shrouded’s small fleet of etherships.

Xerxes suddenly looked much less confident. “Who are you?”

Caeden rolled his eyes, having already answered that question. But he knew what the man really meant. “I’m the one that did that.” Caeden point toward the barely existent remains of the Revolution flagship. “While all of you were dying on the ground, unable to do anything. That’s who I am. So to answer your question, no, I’m not going to tell you how to resist the suppression field. All of you get to live with that mystery. And as far as I’m concerned you don’t have any authority to enforce over me, or anyone in the Central Authority. Now get out of my sight before I decide to make you. And that’s a threat I can actually back up, unlike your empty words.”

Xerxes stared for several long moments, seemingly completely caught off guard by Caeden’s words. As if he couldn’t imagine the situation unfolding in front of him. Finally, his gaze fell, and his posture collapsed. Because despite all his bravado, he knew that he had no leg to stand on. And despite all his pride, he wasn’t willing to die over this slight.

Caeden supposed that his obvious display of power had made that choice easier. Shrouded grew up believing firmly in might makes right. If he’d said no without confirming to all the shrouded watching that he was powerful in his own right, it would have attacked their very sense of self. As it was, he was just a powerful shrouded unwilling to give up an advantage. Something as common as sand on the beach.

And that was the effect he’d intended. The only language shrouded spoke was power, so he’d spoken. That didn’t mean it didn’t feel kind of dirty. Enforcing your will on others just because the alternative was bodily injury or death was not nearly as fulfilling as convincing someone that they should do as you say because you’re right. But he wasn’t about to take the time to have a debate with these people, so power would have to do.

The shrouded and their vessels began to pull away, seemingly catching onto the mood of the conversation even among those not close enough to hear the words exchanged.

“Finally, now we can get back to what we were doing.” Caeden sighed. “I’m done with all this. I just want to go home.”

{}

“Hmm, it seems he actually managed to convince them. How unfortunate. I was hoping a battle would break out. That would have been most convenient. Oh, well, I shall do as I must.” The Etherman turned, and a door opened. The only door in the engine room. The one leading outside. “Sometimes, when resources must be gathered, one must get their hands dirty.”