{Little Rock, Arkansas | State Capitol}

“We’re running out of room here,” Chris muttered to the reformed delinquent beside him.

“That’s thirty thousand more today. Isn’t it great?” Oh, the enthusiasm of youth.

Chris sighed and turned his back on the tallest balcony overlooking the rotunda. Crossing his arms, he rested on the marble banister. The blue-veined stone climbed from the floors up the pillars to the walls and then to the ceiling. At the very top, there was access to the gold-plated cupola.

Great?

This was insanity.

People living within the facility? Fine.

People camping out on the expansive lawns? Also acceptable.

But they’d converted the surrounding state department buildings and courthouses into apartments to serve the legions of people migrating here to meet the mythical General’s brother. The one Xelan had directed Chris to protect discretely. It was a good thing Lucas was in another time zone and otherwise preoccupied with saving the world because if that Icarus took one look at this circus, Chris’s ass was grass. And to that end, Chris said, “Stop encouraging them.”

Jack’s grin fell. “Why?”

“Look, I don’t know your sister, but from what I was told she’d given up a lot through the years and in part to keep you out of this mess. Don’t make yourself a target and put her at risk.” Chris glanced over his shoulder down the many stories to the incoming traffic below. “Someone down there might be here to take you or, worse, kill you. And then where will she be?”

“But we’re helping people. We’re giving them shelter, jobs, clothes, medicine, weapons, and training. So much to get started on their own in this world after Rayne wins it back for us.” Jack pointed a finger at the crowd.

Xelan’s men, dressed in combat gear, handed out care packages containing the resources Jack had listed off. Everyone received a kit. Then everyone pitched in once they settled in the area. It was almost Utopian during this fucked up time. But the bit which disturbed Chris the most was Story Circle.

Originally an innocent concept designed to bring hope and a little peace during this hardship, it had morphed into a sermon on the mount. With Jack as the preacher. He humanized his sister to people who pilgrimaged from states away, sharing their own stories of Rayne’s audacious deeds, liberating entire areas from Nox’s clutches. It started out endearing until, over time, his sister achieved legendary status after Corpus Christi. Something Chris wasn’t sure that battered girl he’d met at Iona-01 had intended.

Chris asked, “Do you have a name for them?”

Jack looked at him. “Who?”

“The acolytes you’re making out of these people.” At the shock on Jack’s face, Chris explained, “You’re young, so I don’t think you understand what you’re doing. You’re making a religion out of this. This is almost as bad as those CoN assholes.” He held up both hands. “Sure, you’re spreading hope and reclamation of the Earth. Cool. Fine. But ease up on your sister. That’s a lot out of pressure on an eighteen-year-old girl.”

“You’re right.” A sound teenagers rarely made. Chris’s brows popped up over his wraparounds as Jack continued, “I’ll dial it down at Story Circle. I’ll make it more about the community and less about what Rayne’s been up to. I’ll be more careful.” Chris nodded along, and Jack said, “People are coming in with more than enough stories about how she’s helped them. All the way from Phoenix! I can let up on the ‘pressure.’ But the hope’s not going anywhere.” He beamed down at the crowd below with a pride Chris found both endearing and damning. If this kid’s sister died, which was entirely possible, the loss would destroy him.

Chris grumbled in return. “I don’t like the Story Circle business either. It’s less circle, more globe lately. A hundred thousand people attended, yesterday. The total population of Little Rock before the invasion was only two hundred thousand.”

“We’re building an army.”

“Xelan and Lucas would be proud of the numbers. It makes it harder to protect you, though.” Chris started heading down the stairs and peered back. “Are you coming? I’m sure your followers would miss you at Circle.” He rolled his eyes as Jack slid across the marble in his socks to catch up. “I’m surprised people take you seriously acting like that. And don’t do it so close to the stairs. I’m pretty sure Lucas will still skin me alive if you died in an accident.”

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The young man halted and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked out a distant window. He frowned and his lips drew thin.

Chris sighed. “What?”

“Do you think John got the word back to them? About their parents?”

“I have no doubt any mission put before the Progeny is completed failing death.” Chris walked the few steps back to Jack and gripped his shoulder. “I’m sure they’ve already taken care of the people responsible.”

Jack nodded in quiet agreement.

Chris was more concerned about the rendezvous between Rayne and Nox. When one of Xelan’s soldiers had approached him about the message repeating on the radio, he’d made a point of distracting the little brother from the signal. Chris eagerly awaited news of further metropolitan destruction to confirm if Rayne had met with him and sweated bullets over what such a meeting might entail.

“You cold?”

Chris said, “Pfft. In July? In Arkansas? Fuck, no. C’mon. Let’s go.” Maybe he needed a little sermon on hope, today.

Over a hundred thousand people were attending. They’d spread out across the front of the building, the lawns, the parking lots, and the streets. Every muscle in Chris’s body contracted and clenched as he scanned the crowd with five other men on point. This was an awful idea.

Jack spoke at a podium with a microphone set up by some news guy from KTHV. Thanks, asshole.

Story Circle was not a rehearsed, formal address. That’s part of what made it so compelling. Even with this many people, it’s just a teenager spreading stories on community and the good deeds of others. He always pointed into the crowd to the subject of a story, giving recognition and showing appreciation to everyone who had performed a kind, selfless act throughout their stay.

Before today’s Circle, Jack asked, “Can I walk out and give people the mic? So they can share?”

“Hell. No.”

Chris still stood by it. Something felt alive about the attendees at this Circle. An electricity. A tension. All coiled like a spring-loaded trigger. Chris examined the tops of the buildings with waving flags leftover from pre-invasion, the enormous oaks shading a good dense crowd sharing space under its branches, and the convoy carrier trucks lining the front streets in Iona gray. The wind carried a scent. Something—

Chris pressed the mic on his earpiece. “Anyone getting anything unusual? Over.”

“Affirmative. But I don’t—”

An explosion ripped through a building on campus north. All that old masonry blown apart and scattered onto the people attending Circle below.

“INSIDE! INSIDE NOW!”

Panic exploded as people fought to funnel over the lawns and concrete onto the tiered stairs. As Chris reached Jack, the crowds parted enough for him to glimpse the most alarming sight of a man wielding an anti-tank chain gun.

“Fuck!” Jack shouted as he caught sight of it, too. Before he could get the whole syllable out, the crazed motherfucker started firing right at the doors.

Gun oil.

That was the smell.

Chris hauled ass with his teenage ward to the nearest pillar outside the gold doors. Entering the marble and cement, the bullets made popping and crackling noises. Entering the people, wet percussive thuds.

Chris shouted, “Don’t look, Jack. Do you hear me? Don’t look!” He forced the young man to crouch and hold his head in a tight ball as Chris draped his armored body around his. As much as body armor could help against tank-piercing bullets. This was the shittiest fucking position—

Another explosion resounded, followed by the loud beating of wings.

The Icari had come to take Jack. They were definitely here to kidnap him. Into his earpiece, Chris shouted, “Is anyone alive? Respond. Over.”

Die before he does. Die before he does.

The chain rounds quieted. Left in its wake, the sounds of coughing, whimpering, screaming, and… an absence of gunfire or explosions. “Jack,” Chris whispered. “You still with me?”

He sniffed. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

Thank whatever Chris believed in these days.

From his earpiece, he heard, “We’re alive. Suffered casualties. Regrouping. Over.” After that a big nothing until…

The buffeting of wings and then boots on concrete filled the vacuous silence. Chris crouched lower, retrieving a ten-centimeter knife from his belt. He looked directly into Jack’s eyes and put his finger over his own lips.

Die before he does.

“I’m looking for Batman,” a bass-heavy voice called out to the crowd.

Well, that was certainly an unexpected development. Chris peered around the corner to the Icarus addressing the terrified humans. Fuck, all the Icari were tall, like six inches more than Chris. This dude was ripped and sported a wild rainbow mohawk adding three inches to his height. He turned around to—

She. A female Icarus.

“There you are. I was told you smelled of hospital food and motorcycle exhaust. I’m Karter. Wingmaster sent us.” Even with all that muscle, she was unmistakably a woman from the front. Feminine face, ample curves, and a fantastic smile lined in razor-sharp canines.

Karter offered him a friendly one as she held up her hands to show she was unarmed. As if an Icarus needed weapons. As if she could hide one in that outfit. Leather halter harness, black short shorts, and DMs. “These are CoN men. They’re aware of Robin’s location. Either we move him or we reinforce the facilities.” Although deep enough to mistake her voice as male at first, Chris could hear the husky undertones of it with her facing him. The muscles in her shoulders bunched, and a shudder ruffled through each of her pinioned feathers.

After Chris caught himself drooling, he wiped his mouth and stood. He kept close to Jack who rummaged up a shaky grin. “Are you good, Batman? You know if you need some pointers—”

Chris shot him a warning glare.

As much as Karter made for an enticing distraction, her timely arrival bit Chris as too convenient. There was a test, an ultimate test, to check the loyalties of those close to the Progeny.

“What’s the safety word?”

Karter lowered her arms and grinned. “Banana.”