"Is the IAL evil? That depends on who you ask. Illuminati, Tories, conservatives, and even most moderates label it a terrorist organization, while political liberals conceal their support for Freedom's revolt behind poorly maintained protests. As for the commoners, they believe whatever they are instructed to believe." – Lord Damian Devalere, Political Moderate
Jack squeezed his eyes shut at the last moment. Inexplicably, he wasn't squashed into nothing. He felt Justice come to an abrupt, gut-wrenching halt, and they were finally still. He cracked open one eye and gasped. He was lost for words.
He didn't recognize this place, and he wasn't certain how he had gotten here, because this was definitely not the hallway of the mansion.
It was a completely empty room of stone with a single door that appeared to be made of thick iron. The chamber was dimly lit by lanterns in the corners, which made visible a space perhaps twenty by ten paces. Justice dumped him unceremoniously to the floor. His legs were shaking so badly that he had trouble regaining his footing, and he stumbled over to one of the walls to support himself.
Jack leaned against the cold stone, his breaths coming in short gasps after the harried flight. He focused on getting his nerves under control, forcing himself to take long, measured breaths. When he stopped shaking, he looked around the room more intently. Justice stood like a statue, studiously ignoring him. Jack looked past the golden Primal, and saw something he'd not noticed before.
There was some sort of strange altar in the back wall. A frame made of twisted wood encircled a bizarre, smoky mirror. Long, carved shutters on the frame were opened wide, allowing the mirror to replicate the room. But the reflection was wrong. The surface was covered in a swirling fog that distorted the image, permitting only glimpses to gleam through.
Unexpectedly, an indistinct shape materialized in the mirror's haze, and Jack pressed back against the wall. A moment later, a form of green and gold emerged through the glass and came to an abrupt halt. Jack beheld the Primal called Sentinel, who still pressed a hand to his side. The newcomer gave a pleased nod. Jack's mind scrambled to rationalize what he'd just seen.
Sentinel moved to the side, and two more shapes followed him, one after the other, from the mirror's depths. The first materialized into the white armored knight whom Freedom had called Hero. Jack saw with relief that he still bore Dasher in his arms. Freedom came out behind them, and she released a black clad figure.
"Everyone accounted for?" Freedom asked immediately. She turned to swing closed the shutters on the altar, hiding the mirror from view.
Hero performed a short head-count, and nodded his dented helm. "Five plus two extras. Mission success."
"Mission failure," Freedom replied bitterly in response; then she sighed. "But you're right. 'No casualties' always counts as a win." She tossed her silvery hair back from her face with a slim hand. "Sentinel, get yourself over to Morthal immediately and take the wounded one with you."
"His name is Dasher," Jack growled angrily, finding his voice, "and I'm going wherever he goes."
"You are in my home now, Myrmidon." Freedom responded in an even tone, but her voice brooked no argument. "So you will not presume to make demands of me or my people. I realize you have many questions, and I know you wish to stay with the boy, but you are not in a position to press the issue." Something in her tone forced him to step back and be silent, but he fought the reaction stubbornly and opened his mouth to speak. Freedom, however, had already returned her attention to Sentinel, and Jack missed his chance to respond. "Check to see if Champion has returned as well," she commanded. "If he has, tell him to meet me for an operation report."
"Yes, ma'am." Sentinel took Dasher gently from Hero and exited through the iron door.
Jack itched to follow, and he craned his head in an attempt to see what lay beyond the room's only exit. The door was quickly shut. "Now," Freedom said, as if getting down to business. She skewered Jack again with her blue eyes. "What are we to do with you?"
Jack didn't like the sound of that at all, but he kept silent, observing the rest of the group arrayed around him. They seemed to be relaxing somewhat, and the remaining Primals pulled off their helms with pleased sighs.
The white knight's helmet removed first, revealing yet another flawless Primal face. The first thought that leapt to Jack's mind was that Hero appeared to be the exact opposite of Villain. Locks of long blond hair were pulled back by leather cords, counter to Villain's short black hair. Hero's jaw was an iron anvil, and his face – cheekbones, brow, and nose – was strong and thick, completely at odds with the slim features of Villain's countenance. But there was one feature exactly the same: the eyes. They were the same hue of grey and even held a mischievous glint, tinged with a gleam of confidence and pride. He winked one of those eyes at Jack when his helmet came off, then shook back his hair.
Justice removed his helm next, revealing a bald, ebony head and a stern face. Jack was immediately arrested by his bright, golden irises, which glowed in the room's dim light. The brilliance of his eyes juxtaposed starkly with his dark skin. Jack had seen a few people in Victorian with similar complexions, mostly traders from the isles far to the south of the mainland. It did not surprise him to find that Primals were as equally diverse as humans. Justice regarded him flatly. His mouth was set in a hard, unyielding line, and his posture was straight and rigid. Jack didn't like the way the dark Primal eyed him, and he turned his eyes toward the sniper to avoid his gaze.
It was the first time Jack had given the sniper his full attention, and he was immediately surprised. The black suit was not Celestial Steel, as the rest of the Primals wore, but a tight leather combat suit with plates of armor woven into the fabric over only the most vital areas. It was built for flexibility. Even the helmet was more of a reconnaissance hood than an actual helm. The way the sniper held himself was somewhat odd, and the separated armor plates bulged across the chest. A long-barreled rifle and a strange, metal contraption that Jack couldn't place rested on the sniper's back. Then it came to him with a jolt. It was a steam-powered jetpack like the rocketeer enforcers sometimes used! But if he needed a jetpack, he must not have wings, which meant...
"You're human!" Jack blurted unintentionally, so thoroughly surprised that he shouted the revelation. The second oddity clicked in his brain, as he understood the prominence of the black armored chest. "And a girl!"
The sniper pulled off her helmet a short second later, and Jack was staring, open-mouthed, at a slim face framed by tangles of brown hair. Her pretty mouth twisted into a smirk. "You don't say? At least we know you have a firm grasp of the obvious."
Jack stared. She appeared plain and unassuming next to the perfection of her Primal companions, but if he blocked the others from his vision, he saw an attractive young woman, perhaps three years his senior. His mind went blank, and he stammered unintelligibly as he tried to think of anything besides how long it had been since he'd last talked to a pretty girl. He was suddenly aware of how badly he smelled after days with no chance to wash.
Hero erupted with laughter, his voice ringing like silver trumpets, full and loud and cheerful. "You've got the poor boy all out of sorts, Val! Look at him blushing!"
Jack furiously attempted to control the blood rising in his cheeks. He was unsuccessful. "You called her 'Valkyrie'," he said to Freedom accusingly. "That's a Primal name if I've ever heard one."
"Valkyrie is Valen's codename," Freedom answered. Jack angrily noted the amusement in her voice. "It's her alias when on assignment."
The girl gave him a look half derisive, half mischievous, and her green eyes sparkled in the lantern light. "I assume by your chauvinistic outburst that you're not accustomed to being rescued by girls?"
Jack opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it and reigned himself into a short, terse answer. "Girls or Primals," he muttered.
Hero roared with laughter, and even Freedom's lips twitched a bit. Justice's face was a block of expressionless stone.
"Who are you, Myrmidon?" The dark-skinned Primal interrupted the laughter brusquely. "How is it that you and your fellows were headed for the executioners block in the Celestial Realm? Freedom may have brought you here, but that doesn't mean you should be allowed to remain alive."
"Forgive my judgmental companion," Hero broke in with an amicable grin. He extended an armored hand. "We'll not kill you in cold blood, no matter what he says, but we would like a few answers. No doubt you would like some as well."
Jack didn't take his proffered hand. "I don't take too kindly, sir."
"Be careful, boy," Hero replied with sudden, equal frigidity. "Or you might alienate the only allies you have here. My goodwill is not something to be flippantly cast aside." He continued despite his chill words, slipping back into an almost welcoming tone. "You've said you don't trust Primals, something I can understand, I suppose. We'll start with introductions instead." Hero gestured around at his companions. "As you've likely already discerned, I am Hero, and my severe friend is Justice. You've just met Valen, and this is our illustrious leader, Freedom."
"My name's Jack. Jack Booker."
"Well met, Jack," Hero replied, and a puzzled look crossed his face. "That name is somewhat familiar..."
"Freedom," Justice interrupted Hero's musings. "This Myrmidon will prove to be a burden and an exorbitant drain on our people's time, energy, and resources, all of which are in short supply. Bringing him here was a mistake."
"Perhaps," Freedom replied, and Jack struggled to read those calculating blue eyes. "But what's done is done."
Justice snorted loudly and glared at Jack as if his very presence was offensive. Jack glared back. The Primal sneered and turned away from the group, leaning against the stone wall with an air of finality. Apparently, he had said his piece and couldn't be bothered with the rest of the conversation.
Jack glanced at Freedom. "Am I a captive here?"
Hero immediately answered with a "no," just as Freedom said "yes." Freedom turned a cool gaze on the white knight, who shrugged and grinned again, all trace of his earlier coldness gone.
"Freedom is all about the empty half of the glass," Hero joked. "Whereas I'm the opposite. It all depends on your perspective, Jack." Jack flinched in surprise at the Primal's familiarity, and he gave him a suspicious look.
"We have brought you to the base of the IAL, the Independent Army of Liberty." Freedom explained. She gave a small, rueful shrug. "Not my first choice, but, under the circumstances, it was the only option." She gave him another piercing look. "I cannot allow you to endanger my people by giving Tyranny information, Mr. Booker, so you will remain our guest here for the time being."
Jack kept his face impassive. "That makes me your prisoner, not your guest."
"If you wish to see it that way, you are free to do so," Freedom answered coolly. "You will be treated the same as anyone else. I only ask that you do not attempt to escape. Your efforts to do so would be futile, I assure you, and you will not find your stay so pleasant if you attempt to take advantage of our leniency."
Jack relapsed into silence at this, his mind whirling. Hero picked up in a cheery tone where Freedom left off.
"We can only hope that in time you will come to see the value in what we are doing here, Jack." Hero said. "Perhaps, someday, you'll find that you wish to be here, fighting the good fight."
"The good fight?" Jack queried scathingly. "I'd rather be dead than help Primals wage their endless wars."
"That can be arranged," Justice rumbled from his corner. Jack cut him a sneering look and opened his mouth to answer, but the human girl, Valen, cut him off.
"That's enough," she interjected angrily. "I don't know who you are or what nonsense you've got lodged in your thick skull, but The Resistance is fighting for everyone, everywhere, both Primal and human. The least you can do is show a little respect. That's to say nothing of the fact that we just saved your life and the life of your friend, you ungrateful sot."
Jack crossed his arms, weathering the short tirade. "Don't get righteous with me, girl. You weren't there to do Dasher a favor; you had your own agenda. Primals are nothing but a blight on human existence with their incessant infighting and power struggles. Humans always get caught in the middle. I don't owe these gods anything, and I don't have the time or stomach for human zealots stupid enough to worship them, the Imperials or the rebels."
The girl's mouth twisted into a nasty sneer. "You prove your ignorance with your own mouth, boy. Freedom and–"
"Valen," Freedom said quietly. "It's all right. He speaks from what he has seen and known. I am not offended." The girl subsided, but her face was still red with anger. She glowered at him.
There was a moment of terse silence, but Hero didn't seem perturbed. He continued to grin, and he spoke up, breaking the tense standoff.
"I can't say I find your views highly appealing, Jack, but I have to assume you're a bright fellow. You'll come around." He nodded confidently. "Do you have any questions?"
Jack scowled mutely for a few moments, but his mind was still whirling from the last hour's events. His curiosity got the better of his dislike.
"What is that?" Jack asked, pointing at the altar and the hidden mirror behind the shutters. "Is that how we got here? And where are we? This place doesn't look anything like the rest of the Celestial Realm."
"That," Hero answered, "is a portal mirror. They provide–"
"The boy just proclaimed his hatred for us and our cause," Justice interposed dryly. "Perhaps we should not supply him with all of our secrets, yes?"
"He's going to have the run of this place soon anyway," Hero waved him down, but Jack noticed that he glanced at Freedom. She gave the tiniest of nods, granting some kind of permission. Hero continued. "Freedom already said he's going to be with us for some time. Best get friendly, Justice. He's one of us now."
"That he is not," the dark Primal growled, but said nothing more.
"If I can avoid any more interruptions," Hero harrumphed pointedly. "As I said, it's a portal mirror. There are two mirrors in every set. They provide an instantaneous link to their twin's location. We use this one for secret travel to and from the Celestial Realm."
"And we are...?"
"Safely back at our base in Victorian in the Grounded Realm."
Jack gaped at him. "You can just–? Instantly?"
"That's correct."
"It took us days to sail to the Celestial Realm on the Titanfall," Jack gasped, trying to wrap his mind around the implications.
"Most Primals know of the mirrors," Freedom explained, "but their existence is a carefully guarded secret of Tyranny's regime. Myrmidons who are allowed such secret knowledge are sworn to secrecy and threatened with the harshest of punishments."
"So there are more than just the mirrors we traveled through?"
"Oh, yes," Hero nodded. "Most of the pairs are under the Empire's control. It's how Tyranny moves his agents so quickly between realms."
Jack's mind was spinning. Teleportation? It seemed something out of a fairy tale, like Captain Peter Pan's journey to a star-island.
"In the Celestial Realm we passed through a wardrobe," Jack muttered. "I thought we had entered into a secret room behind it."
Hero laughed. "We've got a few Primal supporters still living among Imperial society in the Celestial Realm. The owner of that particular mansion agreed to conceal this mirror's twin in the back of a wardrobe." He continued to chuckle appreciatively. "I thought it was bloody brilliant, but he claims he got the idea off an old professor from another dimension ages ago."
"You look exhausted," Freedom said abruptly. She looked at Jack with a critical eye. "And you could use some food and a bath."
At her words, the weakness in his legs and the rumble in his belly returned, but Jack forced back his fatigue.
"I want to see Dasher first," he insisted stubbornly. "I can wash and eat afterwards."
"Your friend has only just arrived. There will have been little change in his condition at this stage. I assure you, our medic is highly capable. Morthal will do everything in his power to make sure he recovers." Freedom's voice carried that same air of command he had noticed before. It seemed to come to her as naturally as breathing. "Get something to eat and clean yourself up, then you may visit the sick bay." Jack wanted to object, but she continued without waiting for confirmation, expecting her will to be followed without question. "Valen will accompany you to make sure your get settled in."
The girl scowled, but nodded grudgingly.
Freedom gave him a cursory look. "You may go."
Jack glanced around the room at the Primals once more, and Valen jerked her head indicatively. He followed her lead toward the heavy, iron door. His mind was whirling all the while.
He wasn't dead, and neither was Dasher. It was more than he'd dared to expect at the day's end. But as Jack looked over his shoulder at the three Primals standing in the dim light, he couldn't help but wonder.
What have I gotten us into now?
***
Freedom had already forgotten Jack Booker before the door shut behind him. Her mind was preoccupied with the last hour's events. With their failure.
Her two companions were not about to let her disregard their controversial new resident, however.
"He is a liability," Justice said the instant the door clanged shut behind Valen and the newcomer. The huge Primal had lost his disinterested pose. He stood upright, and his shoulders were tense beneath his golden armor. Freedom retreated out of her thoughts.
"You vouched for him yourself," Hero laughed.
"I told you what I saw," Justice snapped. "I did not vouch for him. Regardless of any primitive, Myrmidon virtues he might possess, he is still a petty street thug."
"You read that he wasn't like the rest of his fellows!" Hero argued.
"But he's still a Myrmidon!" Justice snarled. "Weak, conflicted, selfish. He is a gangster and an opportunist. He has no interest in our cause, only what we can do for him."
Hero opened his mouth to retort, but Freedom cut him off.
"Our cause is to make a better world for Myrmidon and Primal alike," Freedom addressed Justice quietly, holding his eyes. "We cannot claim to stand for the Myrmidons if we are not willing to follow that assertion with our actions. The boy was dying, just as Mr. Booker attested. We had the means and ability to help him."
"We do not have the time or resources to care for those uninterested in what we are about," Justice disagreed. "The realms are better off without the existence of criminals. We could have left them in the Celestial Realm where they would have received what they justly deserve."
"Perhaps they have some part yet to play," Hero stated, crossing his arms. "A gangster with a sense of honor? That is rare enough in a criminal to warrant my curiosity."
"A part for ill can be well conceived. What good will come of taking a chance on a known degenerate?"
"We may yet see," Freedom said in a soft voice, staring at the closed door pensively. "Fate is an unpredictable force."