12:32 AM September 13th 2026

Heading from the Industrial Park District near the Port of New York to New York Preparatory Academy

“Hang on.” Kyle shouted as he rounded yet another corner on two wheels. Jones felt his body slam against the passenger door as they took the hard left turn then rebounded off it as their armored vehicle lost traction. They slid into a line of vehicles that had been abandoned in the street when the magic collectors had blown.

“Oh, shit.” Jones shouted as one of the vehicles they had sideswiped began lumbering awake in a monster manifestation process. Then he ducked as a traffic light post bent down to try and grab them. Kyle hit the gas to accelerate their vehicle out of the newly manifested monster’s reach. “KIDS!”

Jones pointed to the group of thirteen or so young people, not actually children, but young adults who had shot out into the street fleeing something. They were carrying a collection of various weapons like baseball bats, hatchets – that they had probably liberated from the outdoor store they were exiting – pool sticks, and at least one had a loaded rifle. But some were carrying things like new fishing rods, televisions, and laptops. The vehicle swerved yet again to avoid killing anyone and ended up on the two opposite wheels from before. Several of the ‘kids’ swore at them, one threw a hatchet that bounced off Jones’ bulletproof window.

“You mean looters.” Kyle growled at his passenger before rolling down his window and shouting at the receding gang, “You’re welcome, you ungrateful hooligans.” He rolled the window up and grumbled to himself. “Magic collectors blow out all the shitty electronics and their bright idea is to steal more electronics instead of hiding from the bloody monsters?”

“Real geniuses!” Jones volunteered dryly in an attempt to disguise his absolute terror of just everything in the last few minutes, from the wild ride to the multiple near misses. “They might as well be rolling down their bullet proof windows to shout at idiots throwing hatchets and toting guns.”

“Point taken.” The younger man snorted as he slowed to take another corner and then slammed the breaks on when he saw what the street looked like. There was a herd of vehicle-form monsters. A group of swat vehicles had formed a barricade while heavily armed NYPD officers in body armor were trying to down creatures the size of sport utility vehicles with plain old gunpowder projectile and melee weapons. Yes, they had magic users, but…

“For the love of…” Kyle cut off the oath as he slammed the armored vehicle into park. “They don’t even have adequate cover or a ranged specialist.” Before Jones could inquire about or suggest a plan to go around the herd, Kyle had unbuckled his seat belt and was hopping out of the safety of the vehicle.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. Kyle. You need to get back in the vehicle.” Jones scrambled to retrieve his charge. But the headstrong young man wasn’t hearing any of it. He strode confidently up behind the officers that were cowering behind their luckily un-monsterfied as of yet vehicles taking ineffectual pot shots at an overwhelming force of monster manifestations.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Hey.” He called out, strolling toward danger with a big friendly smile on his face while reaching for the lanyard around his neck. “Hello. Who is in charge here?” It was such a change in Kyle’s normal self-effacing demeanor that Jones, for a moment, wondered if the conspiracy theory that had been floating around the other military personnel guarding the museum was true. Maybe Kyle really was – Nah! He was just a really dedicated big brother.

“Get back.” Only four of the harried officers risked turning their backs on the approaching throng to see what new hell they had to deal with. “Stay back.” A middle-aged man who looked like he was probably in charge. “We’ve got a massive herd formation heading this way with class ones, class twos, and multiple class three monster manifestations.”

“I know.” Kyle called back, though he’d stopped when he was told to without provoking anyone into aiming a weapon at him. “I’m a consultant from the museum.” He jiggled the identification badge that he was holding by the lanyard in the direction of the man who had spoken. Then he gestured to the armored vehicle they had vacated with the National Museum of Unnatural Science and History logo emblazoned brightly on its side.

The officer seemed skeptical until he glanced in the direction that Kyle was gesturing. The familiar emblem brought a surge of relief to him and his shoulders sagged as the implications sank in.

“Thank, fucking God.” He breathed almost reverently. “We’ve lost communications. Get over here.” He gestured for Kyle and Jones to advance before calling out to his men. “Museum consultant on site.” His holler as met with a chorus of celebrations.

“Fuck yes!”

“Hellyeah.”

“Praises to Allah!”

“Woot, woot.”

That last one made their leader grimace a bark of laughter and shake his head. Though there was one disgruntled, “About fucking time,” grumbled from someone who all their comrades managed to spare the time to turn their attention to for a second of glaring.

“Hi. I’m Kyle Wattkins.” Kyle introduced himself. Normally if someone made the connection between his last name and his famous mother it made them think that he was a super dope battle warlock. That stupid assumption that his mother’s badassness had been passed onto her son. This time though he was met with dismayed cries.

“The cook?”

“No.” Kyle sternly replied. “Not the cook. The warlock of the Archivist, consultant for the museum.” He released his identification card and resettled his high collard warlocks robe over this suit. It was a kind of classy look, Jones had to admit a bit grudgingly. “Now. Specialist Jones and I need to get through this herd to the New York Preparatory Academy. Is it possible to open this barricade to let us through? And we will draw off the herd as we go?”

Jones didn’t have a thing in his mouth but he was certain he’d just done a spit-take and choked on his own tongue at the same time. The S.W.A.T. officers gave Kyle incredulous looks too.

“You aren’t here to clear out this herd?” The guy who had been the S.W.A.T. team’s spokesperson questioned dubiously. “We can’t open this blockade. We won’t be able to control the herd if they get past us, we’ve got them pinned in for the next several blocks between all the teams. And you can’t get through the herd, they are coming from New York Prep.”

Kyle climbed up on top of one of the vehicles to see sleek metallic wolves pacing impatiently just beyond the reach of the defenders’ weapons. These weren’t the clumsy, nearly mindless half-formed manifestations Anna had described to Sam. No. These were fully manifested class three monsters. Fast, deadly, and partially protected by magical properties from the elements they had formed out of.

“I see.” One of the more ambitious monsters crouched low as Kyle eyed them critically. It saw one of the food sources it had been watching resentfully from a safe distance and decided to risk an attack. It bunched its hind legs behind it and launched for a huge jump from over thirty feet away. “No.” Kyle spoke to himself quietly and he summoned his magic.

Power flowed from his being and out his mouth, twining with his words as he spoke the spell he needed.

“Shield of Aeneas.”