As I had pretty much expected, the happiness of the previous day meant nought in the grand scheme of things. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since we’d taken the photos, and it was already back to business for me.

I had put the photo of the ‘original’ friend group on the desk in my office, which is where I now sat. It was placed in a nice wooden frame, and it created a smile on my face whenever I looked at it.

The other two had been put in frames in my room. The one of everyone sat on my bedside drawers so that I woke up happy every morning.

But that didn’t matter at this point in time. I was now sitting at the desk in my office, looking up into the cold blue eyes of General Woodward. And next to him was the ever-comforting presence of Joseph.

Technically, Joseph wasn’t supposed to be there. Although he was officially still a member of my Aid, I was only supposed to call upon them in extremely dire situations. For one, I had not called him here. And, secondly, the current situation wasn’t exactly ‘dire’.

I had called General Woodward to my office to discuss a plan for the nineteenth. He understood why we predicted that date, but he certainly wasn’t a fan of the fact that Maltor would not definitely be attacking that day.

‘So, let’s say he comes from the north as he typically does,’ Woodward began, ‘that’s where you want to be?’

‘Yes,’ I replied quickly. ‘And I believe that there should be an agreed signal for if someone sees Maltor. That way, if he appears somewhere else and is spotted, I can make my way over there.’

‘With all due respect, sir,’ Woodward said cautiously, ‘that’s unreliable. Not everybody in the army is a witch or wizard. They cannot shoot a signal into the sky.’

‘So I’m just gonna have to rely on whether I see him or not?’ I asked hopelessly.

When the General nodded, my mood crashed. I wanted nothing more than to rip Maltor apart, and I couldn’t do that if I was nowhere near him and had no way of knowing where he was.

‘Alright, then, I have a different proposition,’ I suggested. ‘I’ll hover above The Tower. From there I’ll be able to see all directions that he could possibly come from. I can also alert the army to which direction the attack is starting.’

‘Good idea, but you won’t need to alert the army. We’ll have squads situated around the entire city.’

‘Speaking of squads,’ Joseph piped up hesitantly, ‘Albert, what are your friends and girlfriend going to do? I’m certain that they will want to fight. Shall we assign them a squad?’

Woodward nodded, insinuating that he thought this to be a good idea.

‘They will want to fight,’ I confirmed sternly. ‘But the eleven of us can form a stable squad, I am sure. We can roll out together.’

‘You need an adult, sir,’ Woodward warned. ‘You are powerful, one of the most powerful demigods I’ve ever seen, as is Mr Brown, but you must have an adult in this ‘squad’.’

‘Charlotte Anderson,’ I said quickly. ‘She’s more than capable. And she’s twenty-four. She’s an adult.’

Woodward’s brow furrowed. Evidently, he did not like my idea.

What a way for the final battle to play out. I could see it perfectly in my head. Me charging at Maltor, swords ablaze, as the entire friend group fought valiantly behind me. Quinn would fall. Emma would fall. Righello would fall. Then Maltor would fall. If I had to, I would kill them all myself.

But I had to convince Woodward. In complete fairness, I could probably do it anyway; I was the Prime Minister. But I would rather be on the good side of the person in charge of my army.

‘Joseph knows Charlotte,’ I added, trying to keep my voice level. ‘He knows just as well as me that if things get out of hand Charlotte will send us all home.’

‘She will,’ Joseph reasoned. ‘She’ll drag Albert by the ear if she has to.’

‘Woodward, please,’ I pleaded, all reason leaving my head. I had gotten bored of reason. ‘I’m not asking for much. Just let my friends, Cecilia, Charlotte, and I form a squad. We’ll all be safe that way. And I can get to Maltor.’

‘You really are desperate to get at him again, aren’t you?’ Woodward said, his tone light for the first time in my memory.

‘General, if anyone’s gonna kill him, it’s gonna be me,’ I replied, my voice drowned in confidence. ‘And I will kill him.’

Joseph, the General, and I spent over an hour devising tactics and positions. Everything was going fine until I came up with a theory that ‘threw a spanner in the works’, or however that saying goes.

‘I don’t think he’s going to bring France on the nineteenth,’ I pointed out. ‘It’s an important date to him, he will most likely only bring his own forces.’

‘That would make him a fool,’ Woodward barked immediately. ‘If he has their entire military to use at his disposal, then he would be better off using it, don’t you think?’

‘I do think,’ I said, ‘but he won’t. We can still move forward with the currently discussed plans, but we must have a backup. The defences along the coast will be useless if the French don’t arrive.’

‘Then the squads will simply move,’ was the response that I was so graciously given. ‘Crisis averted.’

‘And in all of this…’ Joseph piped up, ‘Albert, you and your friends will be acting like lone wolves? Ignoring the formation?’

‘Woodward has already given me the green light for such,’ I answered assertively. ‘We will charge in with one goal: kill as many of his soldiers as possible. Wait, two goals. The second goal: don’t die. Actually, three goals. Number three: get me to Maltor. There. That’s what we’re gonna operate on.’

It was certainly risky to not act in formation with the rest of the RoCitian army, but it was the best thing to get me to Maltor. What would sticking to the formation do if I could see Maltor deep in his lines? My priority was killing him, and I knew that nobody could stop me from doing such.

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‘Ignoring the fact that you do not even know what you want to do out there,’ Woodward began, sounding genuinely concerned, ‘I do believe that to be the best course of action to get you to Confussée.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joseph check his watch.

‘Gods, look at the time!’ he yelled a bit louder than he had intended. ‘It’s almost two o’clock!’

I had completely forgotten. As we were two weeks away from the suspected attack, I had agreed to give a ‘speech’.

I use the word ‘speech’ lightly, as it would technically be a recording. Any time now, I would be filmed making the speech, and it would then be broadcast at six in the evening.

Sinking my head into my hands, I groaned. ‘I completely forgot!’

As if it had been planned, someone knocked on my office door. It was the camera crew.

Rather rudely, they ushered General Woodward and Joseph out of the room. Then they frantically cleared my desk of all the mess and began setting up their huge ring lights and the large camera pointing straight at my face.

All before even saying a word to me.

‘Good afternoon, Prime Minister,’ said the main man. ‘Are you ready?’

He was a short man with a large belly and rosy cheeks. Piggy brown eyes stood out on his round face like yellow buttons on a black shirt. The little amount of black hair he had on his head was styled to the left with so much gel that it shone.

‘Get the camera rolling,’ I replied in a bored tone before fixing my face and posture.

I had tried to ignore it whilst talking to Woodward and Joseph, but I was wearing a suit. I still hated them.

I had put it on in preparation for the filming but had still somehow forgotten about it entirely. All I had to do was say a few words and then I could take it off.

That phrase had been coming to my mind a lot recently and about a lot of different things. ‘All I had to do’. I kept telling myself that, no matter how big or small the task in front of me was. One of these days, that phrase would be the death of me. I would tell myself that something huge was ‘all I had to do’, and then it would destroy me.

The main man flicked his hand rapidly multiple times, egging me to begin.

I took a deep breath. It didn’t really matter that I did. They could simply cut it from what would be broadcasted like I was sure they would do with half of the things I said.

‘As I say this, it is the fifth of June,’ I began, trying to sound serious. ‘We are two weeks away from a predicted attack from opposing forces. On the nineteenth of this month, it is highly likely that our forces will clash with our enemy’s. It is probable that this will not directly affect any of RoCity’s ordinary civilians unless you have a friend or loved one in our army. So, I am not asking you for much. All I ask you to do is keep yourself and your loved ones safe on the nineteenth if the predicted attack comes. I suggest staying indoors and not leaving unless for some reason you absolutely must. Take any measures you see necessary to keep yourself and your loved ones safe.

‘In the event of opposing forces entering residential areas, you are to stay indoors and not leave under any circumstance until the forces are driven out. If you do leave your building, know that you are putting yourself and those around you at risk. An attack on civilian areas is unlikely, but we must be prepared. We must stand together in these dark times.

‘Stay protected and stay safe. Thank you for your cooperation.’

I gave a deep sigh of relief. It may not have been the longest speech, but it got the point across and at least it was over. It wasn’t my problem anymore. That speech was in the hands of the editors now. It wasn’t gonna bother me.

For a moment, I wondered whether people were going to follow my warnings or not. I wasn’t the most popular Prime Minister, and for a lot of reasons.

The biggest reason that a lot of people didn’t like me was because I was only fourteen. They thought that that factor alone made me incapable. Others didn’t like the way I was handling the war. Some didn’t approve of the alliance with Russia. There was a lot.

I wondered what Grandad would have done if he were still alive. If he were still here, then I would not be Prime Minister. Would he have taken the alliance with Russia? Would he have accepted Apercaput’s offer? Would he have launched an attack on France by now?

‘Thank you, sir,’ said the main man, before he and his crew cleared out. It took them five whole minutes to leave, for the record.

I sank my head into my hands. Would he approve of all of this? Would he be proud of everything I’d done and everything I was going to do?

Would he have accepted me and Cecilia?

I scoffed. Obviously, he would’ve. He and Henry were the two people that would probably be happiest with me getting a girlfriend.

My chest was throbbing. Why? Why did these damned thoughts have to come at random moments throughout my day? I wasn’t exactly having the best time, but it still hurt to have them interrupt. They came spontaneously and they were unstoppable. Why in the name of Titan couldn’t I just be left alone for once?

Grunting, I rose from my seat. Training would be better than this. I was gonna grab my Combot and go back out to the damned forest.

Every time I even thought of the forest, the image of Jeremy’s mutilated corpse entered my mind. It would never leave me. Of course, I had to be the one to find him.

I scoffed. I was gonna tear Maltor apart.

***

I should have expected that some unwanted thoughts weren’t gonna be the only things that ruined my day. It was as I went to sleep that something else caught me off-guard. I should’ve been used to it by now.

An Alfonso dream.

In this one, I stood next to George, as was almost standard. George was shorter than Alfonso by a few inches and he had a warm face completed by sparkling green eyes. The greying brown hair on top of his head looks a bit messier than usual, but that was hardly the most intriguing aspect of the dream.

In front of me, there was a small open-top white box. It was rather large, as it had to be in order to hold the three children inside.

They were all at least old enough to walk, as was evident by the fact that they were all standing. I guessed that they were old enough to talk, too, as they appeared to be conversing.

‘So…’ I began slowly, ‘two of these three children will get our powers?’

George nodded, looking at the three children. ‘If all goes to plan.’

The three children in the box looked like siblings. They all had blond hair so bright that it was yellow, and their round faces were all decorated with large blue eyes.

The child on the left was the only girl, and she frequently glanced up at me and George. Other than that, her attention was on the two boys. The one on the right was the smallest of the three children, and his eyes were the darkest shade of blue. His hair was also the shortest. The one in the middle was the largest of the three children, and he kept turning his head from the child on his left to the child on his right as though he were watching a tennis match.

‘Fighting side-by-side, these kids are gonna bring glory to the world,’ George proclaimed proudly.

A sharp pain erupted on my forehead, but I did not know why. Nothing had hit me.

‘What do we tell Albert when he’s old enough to ask about his parents?’ I asked, sounding innocent. ‘He will most likely think that it was us that killed them.’

‘We can tell him the truth,’ George replied simply, staring at the child in the middle. Me.

‘He’s a powerful kid,’ I murmured. ‘I feel as though it would be wise to give him one of the powers.’

‘As do I. But we have a few years before that decision is made. We can train them in those years.’

I didn’t say a word for a moment. I was certain of one thing and one thing only. The child in the middle of the box was me. And that fact alone made it clear to me who the other children were.

‘I can barely even imagine one of these kids becoming what we are,’ I mumbled. ‘It’s insane.’

‘Don’t dwell on it,’ George scolded. ‘Come on, let’s get to where we’re supposed to be before you get too attached.’

George promptly left the room through a white door that I previously hadn’t noticed. I turned back to the three children, staring at the one in the middle.

‘It’s gonna be you,’ I said quietly. ‘You’re gonna be the one that gets my power. And, Albert, I can only wish you good luck.’

I woke up drenched in cold sweat.

Running my hand through my hair, I let out a loud groan. What could that dream have possibly meant? Why did I have to have it on that particular day? Why on Earth did I have to have that damned link with Alfonso?

My questions weren’t gonna be answered by just lying in bed, but neither were they going to be answered by getting up. It was a lose-lose.

Either way, I had a school to go to. I had to get up. As much as I didn’t want to.

And we were now, officially, less than two weeks away from Maltor’s death. The ‘let’s stay in bed’ attitude would not help me in a fight with him.

Gods, I almost couldn’t contain my excitement at the thought of fighting him again.