Chapter 135 Pt.1:

Anton stood before the large door leading the Dark Elves council chamber in the Mist Walkers fortress tower. It was truly an impressive structure but nothing compared to the tower in the White Realm, absolutely nothing in comparison. He paced idly back and forth, glancing at the perfectly still and heavily armed Dark Elf guards. The only thing that moved were their eyes that followed his every movement.

“Sit with us, Anton.” Verona quietly called to him. “There’s nothing we can do until they decide to speak with us.”

Verona sat against the obsidian wall. Kal rested against the wall nearby, her hands well within reach of her blades. Gerin, Ceccitol, Tuccac and twenty DuskReaver warriors stood on the other side while holding a look of deep concern.

I won’t say anything too bad. If they’re actually reasonable…

Anton did as he was bid and sat next to Verona. She held his knee tight.

“No one is this stupid,” Anton mumbled. “At least they shouldn’t be. I definitely think you’re right. There’s more to this than just hating the Island Clans for apparently siding with the United Empire.”

“Like what?”

Anton shrugged lightly. “If it’s not pride and a huge dashing of hubris then it’s probably only one thing. Money. But I don’t understand how that applies here…”

Anton glanced at Gerin.

DuskReavers are the only ones that trade with the outside world. Except for the Green Moon clan, but they were pirates so that’s not really the same. Every Island Clan has ships so they can move about the Islands…Maybe it is just hubris and arrogance.

Anton closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. “Hopefully these Elders will actually listen. And not just because I’m a man, or that I have more obvious magic.”

“Old…” Verona leant closer. “Old bastards wouldn’t let us say anything. Well, Gerin said not to speak. And they did come across like they were really, really cranky.”

“Getting old can do that.” Anton chuckled. “Hopefully things won’t have to turn for the worst.”

Verona’s hand gripped tight on his knee, Kal’s ears pulled back slightly as her eyes narrowed.

“Ceccitol told me they have amulets around their necks that stop magical attacks. I don’t know if it’s going to reflect it back, but something to be aware of.”

Anton kissed her gloved hand. While he would prefer to not use violence he would if necessary, especially when survival of a species was on the line.

More time passed, the minutes dragged on before finally the door opened. An immaculate Dark Elf guard passed through his face as devoid of emotion as those to his side.

“The Elders will see you now, Gerin.” His eyes turned to Anton. “The humans and beasts must wait outside.”

“We made it very clear that we wanted to speak with them.” Anton rose, brushing away non-existent flecks of dirt. “I imagine that they just want to berate and belittle Gerin and the DuskReavers again.”

The Dark Elf stared at Anton for a moment, judging him. Ever since the change, Anton had felt himself turn a little more aggressive, in all things, but it hadn’t impeded his judgement or caused him to take rash decisions. Verona and Kal agreed but he felt their nervousness.

“Very well.” The guards opened the doors. “But understand what you have asked. And remember your place before the Elders.”

Anton took but a step before receiving a large armoured hand thrust into his face.

“Is there a problem?”

“No weapons. Especially not in the hands of humans.”

“My friends took their weapons in last time.” Anton smiled. “Or do you think we’re actually a threat to you?”

The guard entered the council chambers, Anton heard a few harsh words thrown at the guard before he emerged once again. He opened the door fully and stood to the side. Anton bowed his head, the guard paid him no heed and followed the DuskReaver leaders inside. The Elders sat around a large table, hunched and stooped, decrepit Dark Elves, just as the girls described. Anton’s eyes were drawn to the Elder sitting directly across from the door, the only one that looked to not be in some form of senility. Two were asleep while the others were more concerned with eating and discussing some sort of idle gossip rather than dealing with the threats that surrounded them. And the potential threats that had just entered.

“Honoured Elders.” Gerin began, bowing deeply alongside the DuskReavers.

Anton didn’t, neither did Kal or Verona. They weren’t impressed by the state of the Dark Elves either.

“Despite all of our efforts, even with the help given to us by the humans, we are unable to fully push the Goblins back. There are simply too many.” Gerin looked up at the uncaring and seemingly unaware Elders. “If we don’t receive help we will fall.”

“Then why have you brought the humans with you?” The Elder croaked out. “What good can they do here rather than at the front? Are human’s magic so powerful they can fight from such a safe distance.”

I wish.

Gerin looked at Anton, worried. He didn’t know how to respond. Anton had no such qualms.

“Greetings, Honoured Elders.” Despite Anton’s misgivings about the situation it wasn’t a good idea to antagonise them straight away. “My name is Anton. And I’ll be quite frank. Without your reinforcements, they will fall. Why aren’t you sending your forces to help the Island Clans retake The Shadows Isles? You all live here. And you will all die here if you don’t start working together.”

The Elder dismissively waved his hand. “I do not expect a human to understand. There-”

“A human?” An Elder woman half shrieked, pulling herself up. “Here?

The Elder sighed. “Humans conquered the Dark Elves. Used us as soldiers for their wars and threw us aside when we were spent. And those Island Clans helped them do it.”

“So it’s revenge?” Anton shook his head. “That’s a terrible reason. If the Goblins surge through the front lines how far are they going to go before you can stop them? Can you even stop them?” Anton struggled to find the words. “You’re dooming your entire species for some petty stuff that happened lifetimes ago. None of you were here, neither were your parents or grandparents so just like this pointless hatred go.”

The Elders were unmoved.

“Did you know there are Black and Red Goblins amongst them, actually directing the horde?” The Elders showed a tiny sliver of interest. “This isn’t some mindless horde. Individually they are but now have direction and purpose. Their attacks are designed to take advantage of the Goblins strengths and compensate for their weaknesses, planned attacks…If you’d left your tower in the past decade I think you’d know that.”

Several Elders chuckled but none showed any emotion greater than contempt. They simply didn’t care, or they had some other plan the Island Clans weren’t aware of.

Anton stared at his feet, trying to catch his thoughts. He clapped his hands, one Elder snapped away and glanced around.

“So what would it take to get the Mainland Clans to help?” Anton glanced around the rather bland room. “Gold perhaps? Silver? We have a lot of that.”

“Aren’t the DuskReavers paying you to help them?” Another Elder asked.

“Indeed. But…” Anton looked at Ceccitol and Tuccac. “But I need something more than what silver or gold could buy.”

“You don’t have enough gold.” The second Elder chuckled.

“So there is a price.” Anton smiled at him, the first shot a silencing glare. “You just think I don’t have enough since you think I’m some wandering mage.”

Anton retrieved a hidden pocket of gold coins and threw them onto the table. The thin string broke, gold coins scattered in all directions. Gnarled fingers reached for the gold coins before studying them close underneath old eyes.

“This looks real.” An Elder spoke softly.

“Just one small bag,” Anton said. “And we have a chest full of it too. Probably bigger than your chair even. And some jewels too. Would that interest you?”

The Elder holding the coin turned to the first. “Maybe we should listen. This is much easier than-”

“Silence!”

“Oh…”

“What was that?” Anton smiled. “It sounded like you were planning on something else giving you money.”

Anton held his hand, gripping the ring tight.

“Verona, Kal. Keep ready for anything. See if there’s anyone hiding in the room. Things might turn bad and we need to be ready.”

“Is something wrong over there?” Cetina’s voice echoed through his head.

“We’re fine right now, Cetina. We’ll talk when we can.”

“Be safe everyone.”

Anton focused his attention on the first Elder. His face had wrinkled even further in anger, the other Elder slinked low in his chair in a vain attempt to avoid his rage.

“What was the plan?” Anton asked. He summoned four fire Octahedrons above his head, the Elders gasped and the guards drew their weapons.

Anton raised his hands. “I’m not going to do a thing unless they order you to attack. Now…The plan.”

The Elders remained silent. Anton pushed a Fire Octahedron closer. The Dark Elf guards advanced but Anton pulled the Octahedron back. The guards didn’t back away or down, Verona turned to them and held a hand over the blood pots. That alone gave the guards pause.

“The plan!”

“I…” The second Elder glanced at the first, wincing even more. “The Mainland Clans can’t trade with the wider world, there are not good places for ports on the mainland. Everything has to go through the Island Clans. And everyone except the DuskReavers refuses us. The DuskReavers force huge tariffs on everything that passes through. We barely make any money.” The second’s face grew slightly angry. “But not the Island Clans, their goods go through without problem.”

“Is that true?” Anton asked.

Gerin scoffed, quickly remembering what was unfolding around him. “It’s not like it’s undeserved. Everything we buy from the mainland has the same tariffs. So why should we have to pay and they don’t?”

Anton turned back to the first Elder. His hand slowly reached into his cloak and removed the amulet. Anton’s magic reacted negatively to its presence, the mana requirement grew and the structure grew more erratic.

“I’d put that away,” Anton said quietly. “You’re making it rather annoying to control. And if I lose control it explodes in your face.”

The Elder kept the amulet held tight his grasp.

Anton turned to the Dark Elf guards. He could see their tense posture, all they required was but a word and this place would descend into a blood bath. Anton hoped they would come out well; Verona had all her ports filled with blood and Kal’s quiver bristled with new arrows.

“Use the Island Clans to do get rid of the Goblins.” Anton began. “And leave them so weakened and depleted you could just take them out without much risk, and if they did fall it’d give you the perfect excuse to take them over.” Anton ran a hand through his beard. “Really? Is that why you’re willing to throw away everything? Money? Because you’ve both been arrogant pricks to each other, this mutual escalating pissing contest, and neither of you are willing to come to an agreement?! Instead of being dicks about this you could be working together. Trade, goods and money could be flowing in and out of The Shadow Isles but all of you are so stuck up your own arses you can’t see past your own stupidity and anger. So both of you need to get off your high-”

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“Enough of your babbling.” The first Elder nearly growled. “You may think that we are but a bunch of decrepit old fools but you wouldn’t be the first to regret that decision. We understand perfectly well what is happening.” He shuffled back into his seat. “And the Island Clans will retake the lost land, no matter the cost.”

The Elder snapped his finger. A servant Dark Elf approached, his footsteps utterly silent while he kept his head downcast and never looked them in the eyes.

“Write a decree.” The Elder’s face turned unbearably smug. “All Island Clan members are to head to the front line; the old, the women and children. Everyone. They will drive the Goblins back no matter the cost. No retreat.”

“I-”

Gerin’s words were silenced by a single raise of the Elder’s hand, the golden amulet within.

“And that humans and Beast-kin are forever banned from setting a single foot on The Shadow Isles.”

The amulet flashed purple and Anton’s Fire Octahedron near the second Elder vanished, the others wobbled and transformed back into spheres.

“Mages, both Principle and Glyph have threatened us before. Did you think we were without protection?”

“No.” Anton summoned another Fire Tetrahedron. The servant Dark Elf had finished writing the decree but had yet to leave. “I honestly didn’t. But that piece of paper isn’t going to leave this room.”

“The moment that you leave it will.” The Elder chuckled.

Anton said nothing, staring at the Elder. Slowly the smugness faded away.

“You dare threaten us?” The Elder sunk into his chair.

“I honestly haven’t had to threaten many people so far.” Anton began, slowly forming a level two lightning summon. It was incredibly disorienting to keep the rings spinning correctly but he managed to focus, somehow. “Some at the beginning, yes, but everyone else has been relatively agreeable. Money or favours has been enough usually. Or someone has been kind enough to intervene. But not everyone can be negotiated with. Not everyone will listen to reason.”

“We’re ready whenever you are, Anton,” Verona spoke softly through the ring. “Eight heavily armed guards behind us. A lot more outside.”

“And another four in the shadows behind the table,” Kal added. “Archers I think. I can see them clearly.”

“So, are you going to help defeat the Goblins or not?”

The Elders turned to the first. He said nothing, slowly weighing his options. Anton began the summoning just before the Elder nodded at the soldiers. His amulet flashed purple and two of Anton’s Octahedrons disappeared.

“Shit!” Gerin pushed Ceccitol and Tuccac away.

The guards silently ran towards them, their weapons drawn and took two fire Octahedrons to their chest. Those two evaporated but the other six continued the charge. Their black shields glowed with a purple hue, a magic protective shield perhaps? Anton had no time to ponder, four black arrows hurtled towards him, a purple arrow flying to the source.

A lightning shield burst into life, catching the arrows halfway. Anton’s eyes were drawn to the tips; large, gnarled and not meant to be removed easily. An explosion of lightning rattled behind him, illuminating the archers lurking in the shadows. Another purple arrow soared past as the lightning shield vanished. The Elder held the glowing purple amulet, the others held their aloft too but with far less certainty. Anton’s summoning of the level two Lightning Crow had distorted but remained in one piece. He poured mana into the central semi-sphere which helped but the aura from the amulets continued to play against him. Anton threw a fire lance at the nearest Elder’s amulet. The thin beam of light began to widen and distort but retained most of its potency. The amulet exploded in his hands, sending searing pieces of metal in all directions, striking the Elders’ face. His hand blackened and crumbled away to halfway down his forearm. His shriek stopped most of the Elders from using their amulets. Another lightning arrow flew over their heads.

Verona’s body glowed red, the blood coiled around her hands and flew at the guards. They weren’t surprised, evidently they had researched what a Blood Berserker was capable of and raised their shields high. Verona’s blood crashed into their shields harmlessly and shattered into tiny fragments. Verona smirked as the blood liquefied and splashed back onto their shields, some onto their armoured faces. One realised their peril and stopped, dropping his shield to wipe away the blood but it was too late. The blood hardened and three guards dropped dead. Their armoured bodies maintained their momentum and careened along the floor. Verona grunted as the blood coating the shields remained a liquid but the dead elves were essentially a limitless supply of blood. The blood darted across the floor and grabbed the Dark Elf’s boots in a vice of hardened blood. With a downward swing of his sword the blood shattered and liquefied, once again beyond Verona’s control, but it didn’t matter. Liquefied blood snuck through the gaps in his armour. Sounds of tearing flesh and snapping bone filled the air as his armour buckled and cracked. His head snapped to one side, a great shard of blood jutting from his neck, and fell down dead.

Gerin, Ceccitol and Tuccac had not been idle. They threw themselves into combat with everything they had. Thankfully they outnumbered the guards inside the chambers and could attack from multiple angles. Their swords broke small chunks of armour off, the guard simply couldn’t fend all their attacks off. Ceccitol knocked the sword down and stomped her boot down hard, snapping it free from the guard’s hands. Gerin winced as he drew a dagger and rammed it hard into the gap between his helmet and his neck. Even with chainmail and a leather underlay the thin blade, identical to Tuccac’s, drove through and found a vein. A gush of blood later and the guard struggled to hold the wound close.

Anton’s summon had finished and the large Lightning crow burst into life. The crow was slightly larger than normal, its wing tips and tail feathers rippled with lightning. Anton directed it to target any Elder that used their amulets. One Elder still held his amulet up, Anton felt the distortion ripping at the existence of his summon. Though they apparently had no thoughts or agency he felt its distress, perhaps more annoyance at being forced back into the ether. The bright glow consumed its body before it shot off its three lightning bolts at once. Though each faded away before reaching the amulet the fright of a blinding and terribly loud blast caused the Elder to drop his amulet. Once free from his hand the light faded and the distortion faded away but didn’t dissipate.

The door burst open and the other Dark Elf guards ran in. The DuskReavers behind hadn’t been detained but clearly had no idea what was happening. Anton wasn’t sure if that was a wise decision but the guards were probably left with little choice with their charge being threatened. An explosion behind the table signalled the end of the hidden archers.

Verona laughed and directed her blood across the floor. The guards glanced at the unnatural sight and tried to avoid but couldn’t jump high or far enough. Verona directed the blood upwards as hundreds of tiny spikes. Though their armour was more than strong enough to shrug off such small and weak spike there were many holes and gaps for the blood to enter. The guards stopped as their armour exploded with shards of blood. All collapsed in a great thud, weapons scattering over the floor as a blood spike ripped through the bodies and out their necks’.

“Is that everyone?” Kal asked softly. She had another lightning arrow nocked and ready, her head scanning every shadow and potential hiding space.

“Maybe…” Anton summoned a level two fire summon. The Fire Imp was, like the crow, larger than the previous. His sword was longer, claws shaper but was only a slight improvement to the previous. Except for a few pieces of hardened armour on its chest. “If they try and use their amulets again, kill them.”

The Fire Imp jumped onto the table and glared at the cowering Elders, the Lightning Crow floated above the Fire Imp.

“Now we’re going to have another chat,” Anton said. “And this time I think we’re going to be a little more reasonable, aren’t we?”

“My first proper fight in a while.” Verona groaned loudly. A drop of blood ran perilously close to her mouth. She quickly wiped it away, careful not to accidentally let it touch her lips. “Those books were…”

Verona slowly raised her hands. A shadowy knife emerged from the ether, pressed tight against her throat. Anton’s blood ran cold as the rest of the figure emerged, a shadowy silhouette held Verona’s arm tight and close to their body.

“Nobody move.” The shadow spoke softly. “Unless you want this one to die you will surrender. I will count to three and I will slit her throat if you do not remove your magic. And the summons too. There are no games here anymore, human. Do as I say. Right now.”

“I-”

“Now!” The Shadow wasn’t going to entertain the slightest hint of a conversation.

Anton felt a slight quiver in his voice. The Shadow was panicking. Verona couldn’t disarm him…The Shadow was focused on Anton’s summons. Would they linger for a few moments even after he was killed? Was that it, or was the Shadow grasping at straws?

“See?” The Elder chuckled, shakily holding the purple glowing amulet. “I told you we were ready to deal with mages.”

Verona, the blade pressed so hard against her neck her skin had already turned red, gently nodded. But not before giving a tiny wink. The blood behind Verona, out of sight of the Elders and the Shadow, coiled into a ball. A thin shard shot out like a bullet, catching the Shadow in his upper chest, scraping Verona’s helmet, dozens more striking his body and punching out his skull. Before any final impulse could compel him to slash her throat Verona ran the blood along his arms and pulled them away. She stepped to the side, holding her throat and threw the body away.

Anton rushed to Verona and pulled her close. The blade had cut but it wasn’t serious. He quickly healed her and turned his attention to the eviscerated Shadow. Whatever magic had protected the Dark Elf evaporated with his death. The black garbs enveloping the man were very odd, covered with strange white lines, reminiscent of the diagrams and mathematical expressions endemic to Principle Magic. The blade too was covered in the same strange etchings.

“Gerin.” Anton found him sheltering his family behind him, eyes scanning for any hidden strikes. “What was that?”

“A Shadow Hunter,” Gerin whispered. “They’re supposed to be a myth.”

Anton chuckled, holding Verona tight. “I’ll be taking his clothes and blade when we’re done.” Anton turned his attention to the stunned Elders. “Disarm them of their amulets.”

It took a moment but the three DuskReavers inside complied. Their shock was too great to object. With the amulets removed and tossed to the furthest corners of the room the reality sunk in.

“What have you done?” Gerin angrily asked.

“Gerin, before you say anything more…”

Anton increased the number of Fire Tetrahedrons and created two level two Fire Imps. “Are there any more Shadows lurking about in here?”

“No.” The first Elder sunk into his chair.

“He’s lying,” Kal said. “He just glanced at the entrance, his eyes are trailing something coming towards us.”

Anton took a deep breath. He pushed Verona away and threw a weak lightning wave towards the doorway. The DuskReavers outside recoiled as the lightning burst out of the ether and hit everything nearby. The elves grunted in pain, the lightning contracted their muscles as they fell to the ground, alongside another body. Though invisible the lightning wrapped around the Shadow’s form. Verona threw a large blood shard into the body, killing the Shadow instantly.

“Are there any more?” Anton asked the elders.

“No.” The second Elder whimpered. “There are only two.”

“Brothers?”

He grimly nodded.

“One way to be sure.” Anton looked at the large Fire Imp. “Bring him to me.”

The Fire Imp dragged the Elder to Anton. His flaming hand burned through thick clothes but Anton didn’t concern himself with their pain. If they had actually listened and done the right thing he would have happily left, or was that just his mind trying to justify his actions? It didn’t matter either way.

Anton held the Elder’s head and canted a truth prayer. The Elder’s eyes swivelled from side to side as he lost control of his voice.

“How many Shadows do you have?”

“Two.” The Elder forcefully spat out. “There are only two Shadows at once.”

“Good. Do you have anyone else hiding in this room?”

“No.” The Elder croaked. “I…”

His hands gripped hard onto his chest. His breathing stopped and he scrunched his face in pain. A heart attack. Anton healed him and gently laid him on the floor. Though he was healed he remained unconsciously, breathing short and shallow breaths.

“Just rest for a moment.” Anton patted the man’s head. “Did that messenger get killed in that scuffle? Did you shoot him with an arrow, Kal?”

Kal shook her head. From underneath the table, a terrified and near pale Dark Elf emerged, shaking hands gripped the edge of the table tight.

“Do you still have that message with you?”

“I…” The messenger looked at the Fire Imps. “I do. I never left the room.”

He placed the paper on the table. Anton directed the Fire Imp to destroy it.

“I have another idea.” Anton smiled at Gerin. “The Honourable Elders of the Mist Walker clan have decided to commit all of their military forces to the front immediately, under the command of Lord Gerin of the DuskReavers.”

“What?”

“Gerin…” Anton smiled faintly. “There was no reasoning with them. Nothing you could have said would have changed their minds. You know that, I’m sure that you’ve tried before but they just brushed you aside.”

Gerin said nothing.

“And this may sound terrible but it sounds like you and the Island Clans weren’t exactly willing to work with them either, though you were once you realised the threat which makes you better. Somewhat. But now we have a chance to fix things and beyond the simple war.” Anton turned to the Elders. “After their forces have been sent to the front and joined yours, probably give them a fright of actual combat, you can start to reconcile between the difference between the Island and Mainland Clans. Stop the stupid and pointless economic war that you have going on. That couldn’t be done while they are still in command.”

“Stratos didn’t tell me this when he sent me the vision.” Ceccitol looked quite afraid, undoubtedly for her children’s sake more than her own.

“I think prophecies have a way of turning out different than what you want.” Anton smiled as warmly as he could. “Save your Clan and people can mean quite a many number of things.”

“I…I suppose so.”

“Have you written that letter yet?”

“Yes!” The messenger jumped and held a fresh piece of paper up.

Verona directed a shard of blood to take the letter and brought it to Anton.

“Exactly as I said. Excellent.” Anton waved it back. “Deliver that to whomever you were going to send that first letter to, then return. Oh, and by the way.”

Anton waved him closer. The messenger’s legs only carried him through unrelenting terror. Anton created a tiny pinprick of flame and tapped his hand.

“Don’t think of saying anything of what happened in here.” Anton passed him a gold coin and tapped on the small burn mark. “Understood? I don’t want to use any magic on you.”

With but the tiniest hint of a nod the messenger made a hasty retreat. The DuskReavers outside the council chamber groaned and slowly rose up, allowing the messenger to run past. They would be cranky for some time but Anton would repay them for their pain and inconvenience. Perhaps the prayer healing could fix any miscellaneous aches and pains. Anton waited until the messengers' footsteps had completely disappeared.

“What magic did you cast on him?” Verona raised a brow.

“Nothing. Just made him think that I did. He was ready to pass out from being near me, he just needed a tiny incentive to make sure he kept his mouth shut.” Anton smiled. “That’s the problem with secretive leaders; if they’re taken out, when no one but a chosen few ever see them, who’s to say they’re really gone? You don’t look like you speak to many people, so who’s to say that you aren’t just issuing orders…with your trusted messenger. Hell, it might turn out better for them if the elusive Elders start lowering taxes and offering out rewards. The people might think highly of you, though you’ll never actually know.”

“Wretched humans.” The first Elder snarled from his lying position. He tried to stand but the Fire Imp prevented him with but one look from its flaming eyes. “I should have had you thrown out of The Shadow Isles the moment they came into this room. I knew you were going to be trouble. And look what you have done. Gerin, are you going to allow the humans to rule over The Shadow Isles again?”

Gerin turned to Anton, utterly devoid of emotion.

“I have no intention of ruling over an entire species. I’m having enough trouble with just a few thousand.”

Verona coughed lightly. “Gerin. They aren’t going to let you, or your people, go free after this. You don’t have any choice now but to see this through.”

Verona gave him another wink.

Gerin closed his eyes, after several deep breaths he scrunched his fists tight. “Very well. The Mainland Clans will fight-”

“You honestly think they will keep quiet once they discover what’s happened here?” The Elder growled. “The moment they realise that you have attacked us they’ll turn on you. Not even your pet humans will be able to stop everyone. And if he kills them there won’t be anyone left to defeat the Goblins. The Dark Elves will become extinct because of what you allowed to transpire here, Gerin.” The Elder softened slightly. “Unless you stop this madness now and remove these humans.”

Anton looked to Gerin. “Even if you get rid of us you know they aren’t just going to forgive you for this.” Gerin remained silent. Anton turned to the Elders. “And that you’ll find a way to get word out if we imprison you in The Shadow Isles. Even I don’t think we can kill you without someone speaking up. But I know a place where no one is going to care about anything you have to say. I think you’re going to enjoy it.”