Same day

“Yeah, for the past two days, I’ve been hanging out with my cousin and his family,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Daniella raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? How was that?”

“It was actually pretty nice, despite the fact that my cousin ended up assaulting a corrupt cop with a car door,” I said with a chuckle. “But honestly, the cop deserved it. His sister was all smug and arrogant, but she wasn’t so smug when she got arrested for counterfeiting. She kept yelling and making a scene, to the point where the cops had to duct tape her mouth shut to get her to calm down.”

Daniella shook her head. “Some people just don’t know when to shut up. They think they can be as annoying as they want when they’re getting arrested.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Especially when the crimes they’re being arrested for are federal offenses. But aside from that drama, it was really nice to see my cousin bonding with his kids. It’s such a refreshing change from the stereotype that only mothers take care of their children or love them more. Kids need both parents in their lives, not just one or the other.”

Daniella nodded. “I’m all for female empowerment, but it’s about choice. Just because you want to do something doesn’t mean everyone else does. Do you know why your cousin’s wife is a stay-at-home mom?”

“Because her own mother wasn’t around much when she was growing up,” I said.

Daniella replied. “She wants to be there for her kids in a way her mother wasn’t for her. Just because her mother wasn’t always there doesn’t mean she has to follow the same path. My mom wanted me to be a businesswoman or a housewife, but I joined the Fire Department instead. My parents still aren’t happy about it, but it’s my life and my choice.”

“Yeah, even though this country passed the Woman Integration Act of 1937 due to the low male population after the First World War, it opened up opportunities for women to take on roles that were previously inaccessible to them,” I said, leaning forward. “Women started taking combative roles in the military, patrolling as cops, and fighting fires, rather than just being stuck in clerical positions.”

Daniella nodded. “And those who needed work the most benefited from it. Most of them were simple gals from the countryside without siblings to help them out. Another reason the act was passed was because the government saw more workers as more taxpayers, and more taxpayers meant more tax income.”

“Well, at least people here aren’t paying fifty different taxes,” I said with a smirk.

Daniella looked puzzled, probably because in Little Bird, people only have two taxes: sales tax and income tax, unlike the numerous taxes back in the United States.

That's what I like about the country of Little Bird.

Soon the fire bell went off for a fire investigation even though Daniella is a arson investigator

________

At a small building

We did a sweep of the building telling people to get out as Ladder Company Seventeen was searching for the fire well source of the smoke with Engine Seventeen doing the same.

I forced open a door.

“Alright Sir, you need to evacuate,” I said.

The guy replied, “Nobody needs to know that I was here.”

“Sir, you need to leave now,” I said. “Don’t care who you are, you need to go.”

The guy was starting to be arrogant but I told him that I don’t care if he was the King of England and when I told him that he has to leave now then I’ll force him out and it would be less discreet. To me I don’t care who the guy is where the guy could be the mayor and I wouldn’t care.

The guy then left a little bit mad after me more or less telling him that I don’t give a shit who he is and that I was telling him to get out on his own accord rather than me forcing him out.

Soon Engine Seventeen found a small fire in which they put out real quick due to it being small. But after the fire we just went around checking for hotspots and when we found none we just headed back to the firehouse.

________________________

The sun was just beginning to rise as I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and headed towards my car. The crisp morning air was a welcome change from the stuffy office I'd been cooped up in for the past week. Just as I reached for the car door, a voice cut through the quiet.

"YOU!" The guy's voice was dripping with anger. "I thought I told you to leave my name off of any official report!"

I turned to face him, my heart pounding but my face calm. "If you want to fight, then let's go," I replied, my voice steady.

His face twisted with rage. "With one phone call, I can and will destroy your career," he spat. "And I will."

I replied angrily, “Bring it on bitch. How you going to act when I put my size seven and a half up your narrow ass? Now how are you going to act,”

He seemed taken aback, as if he had never seen a woman stand up to him before. It was almost laughable. Did he really think women were delicate, incompetent, unstable, dependent, vulnerable, ineffectual, unreliable, lovely, precious, or sensitive? His arrogance was astounding.

But I wasn't about to let him intimidate me. I stood my ground, my eyes locked on his. "You think you can scare me?" I said, my voice low and fierce. "Think again."

For a moment, he just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then without another word he turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

I watched him go a sense of triumph washing over me. I had shattered his reality, and it felt damn good.

I got into my car, the adrenaline from the confrontation still coursing through my veins. I decided to head back to my apartment for a quick breakfast. There’s nothing like a homemade egg McMuffin to start the day right. As I savored each bite, I couldn't help but think about the day ahead.

But before I could get too comfortable, I remembered I had to give my mother a ride to work. She was already in the car, and I could sense the tension building. She wanted to start an argument, but I cut her off before she could get a word in.

"Listen, Mom," I said firmly. "I will gladly drop you off back in Kansas City for your rehab and I wouldn’t lose a minute of sleep over it."

She fell silent, knowing I meant every word. I really wouldn’t regret it. The car ride was quiet, but my mind was racing. It felt like something out of a Netflix documentary—"Addict Mother, Estranged Daughter: The Mother Who Neglected Her Only Daughter and Husband Wants to Amend for the Past, But Some Things Can’t Be Fixed."

Some wounds run too deep to heal, and some bridges are too burned to rebuild. But for now, I had to focus on my own path, one step at a time.

__________________

Back at my apartment, I decided to make a call to my cousin Mitchell. I knew he was at work, so it was no surprise when his wife, Cadence, answered the phone. I had a favor to ask Mitchell, but since he wasn't available, I asked Cadence to relay the message.

"Hey Cadence, can you do me a favor and ask Mitchell to get some intel for me? There's this guy who's after me for making him mad, and I need some information on him," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Cadence agreed to pass the message along to Mitchell. But I had a feeling that by the tone of her voice, she would also tell her mother, who is Mitchell's mother-in-law. I needed all the help I could get, and if that meant involving more people so be it.

The guy who hates me? Well, I've known people like him my entire life. To them, pride is everything and they'd rather take the fall than admit they're wrong. But I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. I had a plan, and I was going to see it through.

As I hung up the phone, I felt a sense of determination wash over me. This was just another challenge, and I was ready to face it head-on.

After cleaning my apartment I decided to take it easy and spend some time on my patio, tending to my small garden. It's not much but it's something and it's pretty common for people in Little Bird to have their own little patches of fruits and veggies. It’s a small joy that brings a sense of peace and accomplishment.

Today was a rare blessing—no one bothered me, and I relished the quiet. I didn't waste a single thought on that jerk who threatened me. He claimed he could ruin my career but honestly, I couldn't care less. If Mitchell's mother-in-law could dig up some dirt on him, it might just turn the tables. People like him with their inflated egos often have skeletons in their closets. If those skeletons were to see the light of day, his career and life could be over.

Later, I went to pick up my mom from work. The drive home was uneventful until we got pulled over. The cop asked for my license and registration, which I handed over without a second thought. But then he had the nerve to say my car was stolen. What a load of baloney! He ordered us out of the car, but I refused. My car is legally paid for and registered in my name. I told the cop he was welcome to run my license plate through the police computer, but he didn't. I even mentioned that he could call up the dealership to verify the bill of sale. It was frustrating, but I stood my ground.

In the end, the cop backed off and we continued our drive home. It was just another bump in the road but I wasn't about to let it ruin my day. I had bigger fish to fry.

As soon as my mom and I returned to my apartment, the phone rang. It was almost eerie, like someone had been watching and waiting for us to get back. I picked up the receiver, my heart pounding.

"Hello?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"It's Mitchell's mother-in-law," came the reply. "I've got some information for you. Can you meet me at the motel?"

I agreed without hesitation. This could be the break I needed. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, my mind racing with possibilities. What kind of intel did she have? Could it be the leverage I needed to turn the tables on the guy who was after me?

As I drove to the motel, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated. But I was ready for whatever came next. This was my fight, and I wasn't backing down.

______

At the motel, I knocked on the door of the room Star had specified. She opened it, and I stepped inside, taking in the dimly lit space.

"Nice to finally meet you, Star," I said, offering a small smile.

"Likewise," she replied, her expression serious.

"So, what do you got for me?" I asked, eager to hear what she had uncovered.

"Robert Elephant," she began. "Yes, that's his real name. And nothing about him is good."

"Like what?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

"Well," Star continued, "he's planning on running in the next mayoral election in the city of Empire. He wants to rule Empire with an iron fist. He cares more about maintaining the status quo than about human life. He doesn't lift a finger to actually help the citizens of his city, and he willingly wants the city's police officers to use excessive force—police brutality."

“Anything else?” I asked.

Star replied, “When his wife was in the hospital for stage four cancer, he had an affair.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. This was worse than I had imagined. Robert Elephant wasn't just a threat to me; he was a threat to the entire city. I knew I had to do something, but I also knew I couldn't do it alone.

"Thanks for the info, Star," I said, my mind already racing with plans. "This is going to be a fight, but I'm ready for it."

Star nodded. "Good luck, Mackenzie. You're going to need it."

“Do you got something that I can go after to hurt him?” I asked.

Star replied, “Well you can always go to the media about how an Alderman had an affair on his wife while she was laid up in the hospital with terminal cancer. If the media got that well let’s just say he won’t be able to back up his threats because the people he’s supposed to represent would want his head. And if the people don’t get him then it’ll be his wife who can divorce him and take everything in the process even if he got the best divorce lawyer well his wife will take everything in a New York second leaving him high and dry,”

It’s funny how Star said “In a New York Second” because she and her sister Luna are from the city of New York and the borough of Brooklyn in Bedford-Stuyvesant according to Mitchell.

I’ll think of something to go after the guy. But hey if he does want to ruin my career with his position then I’ll ruin his life in the long run. But I highly doubt his adultery on his sick wife won’t make the Alderman’s mayoral campaigning go any good if his supporters found out he cheated on his wife when she was on her deathbed and almost died due to her terminal cancer even though she’s better now but sometimes what’s in the past can haunt you the most. But I highly doubt he would want his affair to become public knowledge.

I can see the newspapers now “LOCAL ALDERMAN CHEATS ON WIFE” yeah I bet no amount of campaigning or trying to come up with a good excuse won't fix the past.

As I left the motel room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. The stakes were higher than ever, but I was ready to face whatever came my way. This was my fight, and I wasn't backing down.

I know his dirty little secret. It’ll be a shame so I decided to go visit him at his office.

___________

I walked into Alderman Robert Elephant’s office with a confident stride, an evil smile playing on my lips. The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with tension.

"Hello, Alderman," I greeted him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Robert looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"Oh, I know your secret," I said, leaning in slightly.

His expression faltered for a moment. "What secret?" he asked, trying to sound unfazed.

"Adultery," I replied, my voice cold and steady. "If you want to come at me then what I found out will be publicized. And since you're running for mayor in the next election, wouldn't it be a shame if the entire city of Empire or the entire Commonwealth of Mountain found out?"

Robert's face turned red with anger. "You say anything about it, and I'll make your life a living hell for the rest of your days," he threatened.

I stood my ground, my eyes locked on his. "Go ahead. The moment you pick up that phone to call your buddies is the moment your dirty secret comes out," I said, my voice unwavering. "You’ve got friends in high places, and so do I. But if you really want a fight, then throw your best punch."

We just stared at each other for a moment, the tension in the room palpable. I could see the wheels turning in his head, weighing his options. But I wasn't backing down. This was my fight and I was ready for whatever came next.

As I started to leave Alderman Robert's office, I heard him pick up the phone and start dialing. I wasn't going to let fear control me. Instead of driving, I decided to take a quick walk around the block to clear my head before heading back to my car.

But as I was walking, I was suddenly ambushed by a group of seven guys. They came at me fast, and before I knew it, I was on the ground, taking hit after hit. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a woman approached. Through my blurred vision, I recognized her—it was Cadenza.

“If you seven want to fight, then pick on someone who will fight back,” Cadenza said, her voice strong and unwavering.

One of the guys sneered and told her to be on her way, but Cadenza stood her ground. “We’re family,” she revealed. “Mitchell is my half-brother, which makes me Mackenzie’s half-cousin.”

The guys seemed momentarily confused, but Cadenza didn’t give them a chance to react. She signaled for them to come at her. One guy stepped forward and punched her as hard as he could in the stomach. But instead of doubling over in pain, Cadenza stood firm. The guy let out a cry of agony, clutching his right hand in pain—he had broken all five of his fingers and knuckles on Cadenza’s torso.

With a swift and effortless motion, Cadenza placed her index finger and thumb on the same guy’s shoulder and dislocated it as if she were opening a bottle of soda. The rest of the group hesitated, clearly intimidated by her strength and resolve.

I managed to get to my feet, my body aching but my spirit unbroken. With Cadenza by my side, I knew we could take on whatever came our way. This fight was far from over, but I wasn’t backing down. Not now, not ever.

Another guy pulled out a butterfly knife and charged at Cadenza. She just stood there, calm and composed. Then, with a swift and powerful kick, she sent him flying down the street. He crashed into a stop sign with such force that it broke the steel sign in half.

A third guy, armed with brass knuckles, thought he could take her on. He charged at Cadenza, but she was ready. In a series of swift, precise movements, she broke his arm and hand in ways that seemed both imaginable and unimaginable. It was almost surreal to watch.

The fourth guy pulled out a handgun, thinking he had the upper hand. But Cadenza, unfazed, opened a car door and ripped it off its hinges. She used the door as a makeshift shield, deflecting the bullets. When the guy stopped to reload, she seized the opportunity and threw the car door at him like an improvised weapon, knocking him down.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh guys, seeing what had happened to their comrades, decided it was best to back away slowly. They clearly didn't want any part of the fight anymore.

I stood there, bruised and battered but filled with awe and gratitude. Cadenza had saved me, and together, we had faced down a formidable threat. This fight was far from over, but with Cadenza by my side, I knew we could handle whatever came our way.

"Thanks," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.

"Anytime," Cadenza replied with a reassuring smile.

"I'm just going to go home and lay down now," I said, feeling the exhaustion from the day's events finally catching up to me.

I returned to my car, the adrenaline slowly fading away. The drive back to my apartment was a blur, my mind replaying the confrontation and the fight. Once I got home, I didn't even bother to cover up. I just lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the events of the day wash over me.

___________

In the morning, as my mother and I stepped outside, I quickly realized my car was missing. Frustrated, I told my mom to take the orange line bus back to work while I decided to run to Firehouse Seventeen.

Despite getting beaten up last night, I didn't call out for my injuries. I just went to work like nothing had happened. Since I was still on light duty, I couldn't do any actual firefighting, but I was there, ready to help in any way I could.

I waited outside, enjoying the nice September breeze that blew through from time to time. It was a small comfort in the midst of all the chaos.

"Morning, Mackenzie," Cadenza greeted me, still wearing the same outfit from yesterday—black combat boots, blue jeans, a white shirt, and a dark olive drab military jacket with her dog tags around her neck.

"Morning to you too," I replied with a smile. "I swear this city has a secret car towing service. Can't find my car."

"I'll go find it if you want?" Cadenza offered.

"If you want to, then go for it," I said, grateful for her help. "I bet Alderman Robert was behind it."

Cadenza nodded, determination in her eyes. "I'll see what I can find out."

“If the cops took it well a lot of cops here are corrupt and are the kind that shoot first and don’t say anything,” I said

Cadenza replied, “Yeah and I’m sure if they shoot at me I’m sure the entire department is going to have to ask why they decided to shoot at a Lieutenant Commander in the Army who was trying to pay for an impounded car. And since my dad is a General in the Army he’ll rain hell down on the EPD and well if need be he can force them into a consent decree. Yeah Little Bird may be a police state but it’s either they can answer for what their corrupt officers do or be forced to enter a federal oversight because the last thing the city needs is armed soldiers back on the streets patrolling following anti-insurgency protocol.”

As she walked away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that I’m getting my car back.

Throughout the morning, I listened to both Engine Company Seventeen and the ladder company getting dispatched here and there. It was a slow day for fire investigation, but I didn't mind. It gave me some time to think.

I wasn't going to lose any sleep over my missing car. I had a rough idea where it could have been taken, and I had a strong suspicion that the corrupt Alderman Robert was behind it. I loved my car, but I knew this was just another move in his game.

I was biding my time, waiting for the right moment to reveal his cheating. When the time came, it would be a bombshell. I was sure his wife wouldn't want to be married to a guy who cheated in a relationship. The thought of exposing him gave me a sense of purpose and determination.

As the day went on, I kept my ears open for any updates and my mind focused on the bigger picture. This fight was far from over, but I was ready for whatever came next. With allies like Cadenza and Mitchell's mother-in-law, I knew I had the support I needed to take down Robert Elephant and his corrupt empire.

________

(Cadenza Amore POV)

I arrived at one of the police impound lots in the city of Empire and spotted Macaroni's car. A few people were looking it over, probably trying to figure out what to do with it.

I had to decide on my approach: go loud or go stealth. If I went loud, every corrupt cop in Alderman Robert's pocket would be on me in no time. But if I went stealth, they'd eventually realize the car was gone. Either way, I was taking the car back. It was illegally taken by those corrupt cops, and I wasn't about to let them get away with it.

I took a deep breath, weighing my options. This was going to be tricky but I was determined to get Macaroni's car back, no matter what.

I decided to go loud. As I walked up to the entrance booth, I told the cop there that I was here to get the 1968 Charger. He immediately told me that I couldn't take it, even though I pointed out that some people were already looking it over. As soon as I said that, the cop drew his gun. But I was quicker. I disarmed him and performed a non-lethal takedown. I wasn't planning on having every cop in the city, corrupt or not, on my tail.

The Alderman messed with Macaroni, and since she's my half-cousin, that means he's coming after me too. What he doesn't know is that my psychology is the stuff of therapists' nightmares.

Nobody, except my dad and a close group of soldiers, knows how genetically modified I am. I'm part of Project Phoenix, a supersoldier program. I have five gene mods that give me different tactical advantages; hyper-reactive pupils, combat pheromones, adaptive body cells that reduce recovery time from injuries, and tough skin that makes bladed weapons less effective. But most importantly, I'm trained to fight smarter, not harder.

With the cop out of the way, I got into the impound lot. This was just the beginning. The Alderman had no idea what he was up against.

The Alderman doesn’t know what makes me different than Macaroni and that is I’m:

Expert Driving Skills

Extensive Military Training

Guerrilla Warfare

High Intelligence

Master Combatant

Master Marksmanship

Master of Stealth

Master Tactician & Strategist

Peak Physical Conditioning

Physical Strength

Psychological Warfare

Tactical Analysis

Unconventional Warfare

I then used my stealth skills and knocked out those around Macaroni’s car even though I thought about throwing knives but I decided against it.

I got into Macaroni’s car and drove out of the impound lot, feeling a rush of adrenaline. I couldn’t stop thanking Visiala for her intelligence. Visiala is literally out of this world—she came from another planet before its destruction. She was given a new identity in Little Bird, as long as she used her powers to look human and fit into society.

Visiala doesn’t fit the stereotype of "Little Green Men" that sci-fi loves to portray. I’ve seen her true form once, and she looked like an anthro fox gal to me. Visiala used her intelligence to reverse-engineer alien tech she brought with her, benefiting the country of Little Bird. Laser weapons, advanced medicine, stealth helicopters, supersoldier technology, railguns—you name it, she’s done it.

I like Visiala, even though she lives with my half-cousin, Lieutenant Mitchell "Mitzy" Waterson. He's her handler, which kind of feels like spy lingo for field agents and their case officers. But really, it's just a nuclear family. Visiala is incredibly smart, especially when it comes to genetics. She altered her and Mitzy's children's genetics before they were born, removing her species' abilities so they would be fully human. She did this so they could live a normal life and fit into human society, without the people of Moonlight Cove knowing that humanoid aliens live among them.

If it weren't for Visiala's intelligence, the war with the Warsaw Pact, aka the Soviets would have lasted much longer. She used her reverse-engineered alien tech to enhance the Nightingale, a VTOL for the Little Bird military. Originally, it had an operational range of 3200 miles, but thanks to Visiala, the Nightingales can now go much faster, much farther, and even travel in the exosphere. During the war, they were used mainly for reinforcements and to bring supplies from the homeland to us faster than any normal jet engine military cargo plane could. The Nightingales fly so fast that the Soviets' most advanced SAM sites and missiles couldn't keep up. Those Soviets on the ZPUs didn't stand a chance—it was a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of aircraft.

Let's not forget about Project Phoenix. Visiala used her alien tech to give us advanced power exoskeletons, like something out of sci-fi. The powered assault armor she created has an inner skinsuit, a gel layer that regulates temperature, a pressure seal to keep the suit airtight even underwater or in space, a titanium bodysuit, and a titanium outer shell that covers the chest, arms, hips, legs, calves, feet, and hands. The helmet is made of the same material. The armor has energy shielding and a small power plant to power the suit, which is half the size of a double AA battery but has a lifespan of 1000 years.

Before returning the car to Macaroni, I decided to stop and fill it up with gas. It still had half a tank, but I wanted to make sure it was full before giving it back to her. As I stood there, watching the numbers on the pump climb, I glanced at my watch and said to myself, "Yeah, I still got time." Macaroni didn't expect her car back right away, but I wanted to return it as soon as possible because it wasn't mine to keep.

With the tank full, I had one more stop to make before heading back to Macaroni. I decided to pay a visit to the corrupt Alderman Robert Elephant. It was time to send a message and let him know that messing with my family was a big mistake.

____________

I stormed into Alderman Robert Elephant’s office, ready to give him a piece of my mind. When I say talk, I mean yell. I let him have it, my voice echoing off the walls as I laid into him for all the corrupt things he had done.

When I finally stopped yelling, he started to shout back, threatening to send the cops in his pocket after me. I looked him straight in the eye and told him he’d better arrange their close casket funerals in advance.

That’s when he pulled out a shotgun and pointed it at me. Without missing a beat, I grabbed the barrel and bent it upwards with ease, like I was picking up a book. The look of shock on his face was priceless.

"You really think you can intimidate me?" I said, my voice calm and steady. "Think again."

The Alderman was speechless, his eyes wide with fear. He had no idea what he was up against, and I was just getting started. Not adding that he looked at the shotgun in disbelief of how I bent the barrel like it was nothing even though it’s made of metal and I bent it like nothing.

After my "chat" with the Alderman, I decided to drop Macaroni's car off at the firehouse where she works. She thanked me for getting her car back, and I couldn't help but mention my lovely conversation with the Alderman—though I did admit that it was more of a yelling match.

As we talked, Macaroni started to bring up religion. She noticed the inverted pentagram on my dog tag chain and asked if I worship the Devil. My response was priceless: "War is Hell, and I'm the Devil!" During the war, US Project Phoenix supersoldiers were called "Devils" by the Soviets. Just one of us could carry the firepower of an entire company of regular infantry, and four of us could match the firepower of a whole battalion. But all 150 of us? Try several infantry divisions firepower all rolled up into a company and two squads worth.

Macaroni laughed, shaking her head. She knew I wasn't one to be messed with, and neither was she.

I decided to head back to the motel.

----------------------------------------

In the dimly lit motel room, I sat on the edge of the bed, meticulously disassembling my pistol. Each piece was cleaned with precision, a ritual that calmed my nerves. As I loaded Hollow Point and Overpressured .45 rounds into the magazine, the phone rang, slicing through the silence.

I picked up, and to my surprise, it was the Alderman. He wanted to meet at his place later—a villa, no less. Fancy.

“When should I show up?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

“After I get off work,” he replied.

I agreed, but as soon as we hung up, a knot formed in my stomach. My instincts screamed ambush. They’d never been wrong before.

I wasn’t about to take any chances. I called for backup—my boyfriend Francis, my half-sisters Lucy, Natalie “Nat,” and Ashley, and even my half-brother Mitchell. If the Alderman was setting a trap, I’d be ready.

With my team assembled, confidence surged through me. This was going to be a showdown and I wasn’t going in alone.

Star, who was in the next room, came over with some crucial intel. She’d wiretapped the Alderman’s house phone and office landlines. After our call, he’d contacted some people called "Cleaners." Star explained they weren’t your typical cleaners. These were the kind who wore protective suits and gas masks, their real job being the disposal of bodies—enemies of the Alderman.

I had a hunch they operated out of a hazardous disposal site, using it as a front to avoid suspicion. To the public, it looked like a legitimate business dealing with hazardous waste.

I reassembled my gun, feeling its familiar weight. It was time to find one of those Cleaner sites. My handgun, a semiautomatic 9x19 pistol, had been the standard issue for the Little Bird military special forces from 1957 to 1983. Reliable in the jungles of Vietnam, it had eventually been phased out. Despite its double magazine capacity compared to the M1911A1, the 9x19 cartridge was deemed not powerful enough. The army reverted to the M1911A1 until 1995, when the Viperstrike .50 was introduced—a serious upgrade with a 12-round magazine chambered in .50 AE.

With my trusty sidearm ready, I set out to locate one of the Cleaners' sites.

I visited four out of five hazardous disposal sites and to my relief, they were all legitimate businesses. I had to break in and use my stealth skills to move around undetected, but it was worth it to see nothing illegal was going on.

Then, I hit the final site. That’s where I found the Cleaners, busy at work. In one garage, I found a note conveniently left out in the open. It detailed Alderman Elephant's corrupt operation, his network of bribes, and his use of blackmail for those who won’t play ball.

The Cleaners were disposing of bodies with corrosive acids and chemicals, just as I’d suspected. But then I overheard something that made my blood run cold—they had two new targets, my half-cousin Mackenzie "Macaroni" Waterson and me.

I knew I was outgunned and outmanned but backing down wasn’t an option. I never do.

I took my gun and without a second thought, started to fight the Cleaners. Some of them had automatic weapons like the AKM, rare in Little Bird, mostly war trophies from past conflicts. One Cleaner got too close while I was reloading. He hit me with the stock of his AKM, but it broke off. That didn’t stop me. I took the gun from his hands and hit him across the head with it before using it myself, stock or no stock.

This was my fight, and I wasn’t going down without a battle.

As I stormed in, a Cleaner blindsided me, knocking me to the ground. But I wasn’t down for long. I kicked him off and grabbed the nearest object—a metal folding chair. Folding it swiftly, I wielded it like a seasoned warrior. That’s the thing about us Project Phoenix supersoldiers—were trained to turn everyday objects into deadly weapons. A chair? Just another tool in our arsenal.

The Soviets tried to create their own version of us, but they missed the mark. They loaded their soldiers with heavy armor and special weapons like automatic grenade launchers. We called them “Phoenix Wannabes.” While they relied on brute force and heavy gear, we had advanced armor with energy shielding, thanks to my half-cousin Mitchell “Mitzy” Waterson’s wife, Visala. The Soviets used the highest level ballistic vests, knee pads, elbow pads, and helmets, but they couldn’t match our tech.

The Cleaner who knocked me down quickly regretted it. With the chair in hand, I showed him why you don’t mess with a Project Phoenix supersoldier. He never saw it coming nor expected to be beaten to death by a chair.

Once all the Cleaners were down, their gruesome job of eliminating and disposing of Alderman Robert Elephant’s enemies with corrosive acids and chemicals was finally over. The room was eerily quiet, the air thick with the scent of chemicals and gunpowder.

Then, the phone rang. I picked it up, and sure enough, it was the Alderman. He tried to play it cool, asking if I was someone else. I cut him off with a cold, “Guess again.”

There was a pause on the other end. I could almost hear his mind racing. “Your Cleaners,” I continued, “they’ve got both .45 ACP and 7.62x39mm rounds. They’re not coming back.” The silence that followed was deafening. The Alderman knew his game was up.

I even told him about my love-hate relationship with politicians and the rich. They love waging wars, and the Little Bird Army considers me a "psychopath" who enjoys war. But I hate them because they live in luxury while kids from poor backgrounds fight their wars and struggle with PTSD. To the rich, war is just another way to make money. I told him I’m like a living Jekyll and Hyde—nice on the surface, but the smallest thing can set me off.

I warned the corrupt Alderman that he could send his pocket cops after me, but I wouldn’t be afraid. If those corrupt officers harmed me, the Empire Police Department would face tough questions they couldn’t dodge. The blue wall of silence means nothing to the army. My father, a General, has the authority to deploy federal troops to take over police duties if needed. The citizens of Empire remember 1988-1990 when the 21st Airborne Division and 3rd Marine Division patrolled the streets, treating all criminals as insurgents. The military’s anti-insurgency protocol is clear: kill all insurgents in combat. Even though said protocol is flawed since during when the army patrolled the streets in that time well one time a group of people decided to rob a store that was closed and well a High Explosive round from a tank got the robbers and destroyed said store and the army had to pay for the damages though.

When the Alderman threatened to send his pocket cops to my location, I just laughed. “They won’t last long. I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.” He didn’t believe me, but I always have a plan—and several contingency plans.

So, I sat there, waiting for the corrupt cops to arrive. I was ready to show them who’s really in charge. As a Lieutenant Commander, I’m a schemer and detail-oriented strategist, taking every variable into account to secure quick victories with minimal losses. For me, the battleground is a chessboard where I can showcase my intellectual supremacy.

I knew that targeting the cops in the Alderman’s pocket would raise questions. People would wonder why some officers were being singled out while others weren’t. This would force the rest of the police department to save face and address the corruption within their ranks. It was all part of my plan.

When the cops in the Alderman’s pocket arrived I decided to play along and let them arrest me. It was all part of the plan I had meticulously crafted in my head. They showed up in a convoy of five police cars, but instead of taking me to the precinct, they were heading to an off-the-books location. Just as I anticipated.

Before we reached their secret destination the convoy was ambushed. It was a chaotic scene, but I remained calm. This was exactly what I had planned for. The ambush was my doing, a contingency I had set up to ensure I stayed in control.

As the corrupt cops scrambled I knew this was my moment to turn the tables and show them who was really in charge. The battleground was set and I was ready to make my move.

The lead and rear cars were hit trapping the others but the cops didn’t radio for help because it’s one of those things they rather keep the location off of the books so other cops don’t find out because of it being illegal.

I was "rescued" by my half-sisters Lucy, Natalie "Nat," Ashley, my half-brother Mitchell, and my boyfriend Francis. But of course, this was all part of the plan. We headed back to the motel, and during the ride, I couldn't help but reminisce about my first date with Francis. I remember telling him that if we ever got married, I wouldn't be the domestic type. He used the term "housewife," but he assured me he was secure with being with a woman who could throw someone like a baseball.

Francis has always been okay with dating me, even though I can rip a car door off like it's a twig. He's secure in himself, and that’s one of the reasons I love him. Francis, and my half-sisters are all part of Project Phoenix, just like me. We're Fireteam Saber, with me as the leader, Francis as the heavy weapons guy wielding a tri barrel minigun, Nat as the tech expert, Ashley as the CQB Specialist, and Lucy as the Assault specialist.

Of course, today we weren’t in our fancy power armor and Francis didn’t have his minigun. The military wouldn’t approve a billion-dollar armor or a minigun leaving the base unless authorized, especially since Little Bird isn’t at war. The weapons my family has were the kind any average Joe with the proper ID, good credit, and a clean background check could buy at a gun store.

As we drove, I felt a sense of camaraderie and strength. We were a team, and together, we could handle anything the Alderman threw at us.

______________

(Mackenzie “Macaroni” Waterson POV)

At night, I found myself creeping down a deserted street, trying to avoid a group of mercenaries. The air was tense, and every shadow seemed to hide a threat.

I ducked behind a car, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to move, but as I shifted to the next car, my foot hit a tin can, sending it clattering across the pavement. Panic surged through me, and I bolted, only to skid to a halt when a towering figure in powered armor blocked my path. The figure, easily seven feet tall, looked down at me and gave a single nod.

Before I could react, the mercenaries opened fire. The armored giant stepped in front of me, its energy shield deflecting the bullets with ease. Then, it turned and unleashed a barrage from its M75 Battle Rifle, the three-round bursts echoing through the night.

I took off running again, but another armored figure descended from the sky, landing with a thud that sent a shockwave through the ground. It sprinted forward, firing an assault rifle, and was quickly joined by two more—one wielding a semi-automatic shotgun, the other an automatic rifle.

The four powered armor figures made quick work of the mercenaries, their movements precise and unstoppable. One of them, with the number "101" emblazoned on the left breastplate, approached me. As the figure got closer, the figure removed the helmet and it’s my half-cousin, Cadenza Amore.

Relief washed over me, but I knew it was time to head home. With a nod of thanks to Cadenza, I turned and made my way back, while she and the other three powered armor figures continued on their mission.

______________

Back at my apartment, I walked in to find my mother and stepmother chatting like it was a normal day. My blood boiled instantly.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped at my stepmother, my glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Martha, unfazed, replied, “Your mother let me in. She said it’s okay for me to stay for a while.”

“Get out!” I shouted, my voice trembling with anger. “Both of you! Mom, this is strike three. You’re going back to the rehab center. I’ll drop you off at the airport first thing in the morning to head back to Kansas City. I gave you three chances and clear rules, but you didn’t take them seriously!”

My mother and stepmother started complaining about how much they hated the country of Little Bird. I cut them off, “You both came here on your own free will multiple times. If you don’t like it, that’s your problem. Little Bird might not be explicitly set in the 1940s, 1950s, or 1960s, but it borrows heavily from those decades. It’s got that retro aesthetic, like what people back then thought the future would be. The vehicles and equipment look old-school but are way more advanced than anything other countries have, even today. It’s retrofuturism at its finest. And Martha, if you come into my apartment again without my crystal fucking goddamn clear permission, I'm shooting you in the Goddamn face.”

As they stormed out, my mother called me an “infertile whore.” To be honest, I don’t give a damn what she thinks. She wanted me to settle down with a guy and have children. Yes, I’m bisexual, but according to the Kinsey Scale, I’m a four, meaning I’m attracted to both sexes with a general preference towards the same sex. Honestly, I’m the type of person who doesn’t care if I have children or not. I have family members who want kids, but their in-laws make their lives a living hell if they can’t have children. Some of my family members can’t have children, not because of work, but because they actually can’t conceive.

What my mother said stung, not because I don’t have children yet, but because I have family members who can’t have biological children. Their spouses and in-laws treat them terribly. Some of my female family members can’t have kids and their husbands and in-laws talk behind their backs. Half of them divorced my family members who couldn’t have children. Yet, when my family members remarried, they finally had children either stepchildren, or adopted children.

When they finally left, I slammed the door shut and locked it.

I even talked to some of my family members back in the United States even though it’s like 11 or 10 at night depends if they’re living in the U.S. East coast or Central time zones where they are but well the one thing about us Watersons is that no matter what we’re always available even just to catch up they’re willing to sacrifice some sleep to make sure everything is okay.

Last time I heard from my extended family, they really let my dad have it for choosing his new family—his wife and stepchildren—over his only daughter. My cousin even told him, “What if Mackenzie and her girlfriend get married? It’s your fault she won’t invite you to the venue or courthouse! Or what if Mackenzie has a child, either biological or adopted? She won’t tell you!” I think that hit him hard, especially after I was nearly on death’s door in June following an explosion. It was like getting hit by an eighteen-wheeler and a brick wall at the same time. Some family members even called him a “Cherry boy.” (a virgin)

Despite everything, I love my dad. He supported me when I came out as bisexual at a time when homosexuality was much less accepted than it is today. My mother, on the other hand, still thinks it’s just a phase and doesn’t truly believe in who I am.

I then checked my social media in which my mother left a few nasty things on my profile timeline in which I replied to my mother in which I just typed “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD ORNERY OLD BITCH!” I let my anger get the better of me but honestly I don’t give a damn if my friends and family see my reply.

I started reading about my grand uncle, who was president of Little Bird when the Soviets landed and started a war. He sent a note to the Soviets, saying, "You have mistaken our love of peace for weakness," and "Your wanton aggression leaves us no choice." He was like other Little Bird presidents before him, standing firm in the face of aggression.

Before bed, I thought about my family members who remarried and became stepparents. They love their new families, but their new families often hate them if they show love to their children from previous marriages. But us Watersons, we don’t abandon our family, no matter what. My great granddad, who had many sons, never officially said he loved them, but he showed it in his own way. He always said, “If you’re trying, that’s all that matters.” or for birthdays he would’ve said, “Happy birthday” and leave it at that. Even after he remarried in 1947, he still loved his sons and twin daughters, and he publicly admitted how much he missed those who died in World War II, Korea, or Vietnam.

Our family, both immediate and extended, doesn’t express love openly, but it’s there in subtle ways. That’s why when my dad chose his new family over his only daughter, the entire Waterson family went after him with both barrels, even those with stepkids. They still love and listen to their biological children and always take their feelings into account. Some of them are married to people who want them to abandon their own kids, but us Watersons never do that. So when my dad did, even though I’m an adult, they took up arms and let him have it.

____________

In the morning.

Cadenza came and got me but as we were out walking soon a man came and approached us and when he started to yell at me for throwing my stepmother out onto the streets well Cadenza handed me a shotgun shell.

“This is a four buck, buckshot and this has twenty-seven pellets,” I said threatening tone, “And if you don’t want fifty-four steel pellets in your face then I suspect you should fuck off because I’m not in the fucking mood!”

As Cadenza and I started to walk away the guy grabbed me so I reached into the bag that Cadenza had where after a few hits I had a sawed off double barrel shotgun and I pulled the trigger twice shooting the guy in the face twice. I didn’t have any regrets about it.

We then decided to visit the Alderman who decided to be at a high class fancy bar during working hours.

_________________

The next morning, Cadenza and I found ourselves in a high-class, fancy bar, ready to confront the corrupt Alderman. The place reeked of wealth and power, but we were here on a mission.

“Not the first time you've left a fraulein unsatisfied, nein?” Cadenza quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The Alderman's eyes widened in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected us to survive, let alone show up here. But Cadenza, true to form, couldn’t resist running her mouth. She was the kind of person who never knew when to shut up or walk away from a fight. She always said, “War is Hell and I’m the Devil.”

Despite her calling me "fraulein"—a German term for an unmarried woman—I couldn’t help but be impressed. I’m a second-generation British-German-Italian-American, with a family history as tangled as a soap opera plot. Most of my cousins twice removed, and many of my grand uncles, are first-generation German-Americans born between 1919 and 1942. My grandfather and the rest of my grand uncles are British-German-Italian-American. My great-granddad was born and raised in London to German immigrants who arrived in 1900. He moved to the U.S. in 1919, hence the British-German part. In 1947, he remarried an Italian woman who had moved to the U.S. after World War II to escape the devastation, adding the Italian twist to our lineage. Funny enough the woman he remarried to well they met prior back in 1943

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I was genuinely surprised to hear Cadenza use “nein,” showing off her bilingual skills. It added an unexpected layer to her already complex persona.

The corrupt Alderman got up and left, clearly rattled. Cadenza turned to me with a smirk. “You’ll hear a lot of F-words on the battlefield, but the most important one is Flank.”

I nodded, thinking about the four F’s of combat: Find the enemy, Fix the enemy with suppressive fire, Flank the enemy, and Finish off the enemy. It was practically ingrained in me, thanks to my family’s extensive military history. We’ve served in everything from the Holy Roman Empire and the Continental Army, the Imperial German Army, the British Army in both World Wars, the Confederate States Army, and various branches of the U.S. military, including the Little Bird Army.

As we walked out of the bar, I started talking to Cadenza about my time back in the United States. I mentioned attending a few family weddings where the in-laws tried to crash the ceremonies. “Us Watersons never do that. We respect boundaries. If you’re not invited, you don’t show up. Weddings are sacred events, all about the couple getting married, not about people who ruined their relationship with their son or daughter and then want to make the day about themselves.”

I shared stories about some of my relatives whose weddings were nearly ruined by estranged in-laws. “But if you marry into the Waterson family, you get a supportive clan. We don’t take sides unless a parent abandons their child for a stepfamily. Then, we’re up in arms.”

Cadenza listened, nodding thoughtfully. “Sounds like the Watersons know how to keep things in perspective.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We might have our flaws, but we know how to stand by each other.”

As we walked out, I shared more with Cadenza about my family. “You know, some of my in-laws come from families that preach self-reliance and independence. But then, those same families turn around and expect their kids to be walking ATMs. When they don’t get the money, they call their kids selfish jerks. It’s ridiculous.”

Cadenza nodded, listening intently.

“But when they marry into the Waterson family, it’s different,” I continued. “We see our in-laws as family, not cash machines. We actually care about their lives and listen to what they have to say. We’re not the kind of family that pretends to listen but doesn’t really care.”

I chuckled, thinking about some of the stories I’d heard. “Some of my in-laws have said that marrying a female Waterson is an eye-opener. We prefer cheap dates over lavish ones and the simplest weddings possible. We believe in owning only what adds value and meaning to our lives and getting rid of the rest.”

I remembered a particular wedding before I joined the Navy. “One of my female cousins got married, and when I asked about the food, she said, ‘We can get several dollar meals from McDonald’s afterwards.’ It was funny, but if that’s what she wanted, that’s what she got. Her future in-laws tried to pressure her into catering a lot of meals, saying people would want seconds. But she stood her ground.”

I smiled, thinking about the family tradition. “Most of my female relatives have gotten married in a hand-me-down wedding dress made in post-World War I England in 1919, when my great-granddad first got married. It’s a piece of history, and it means a lot to us.”

Cadenza grinned. “Sounds like the Watersons know how to keep things real.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We might have our quirks, but we know how to support each other.”

Cadenza and I couldn’t fully relate to each other, despite both being only children. She had her half-brother, my cousin, while I had my entire extended family. Cadenza grew up as a military brat, spending her breaks on various bases. She was taught to handle shock and awe and to defend herself 24/7 because her father wasn’t always around. On the other hand, I was taught to be self-reliant and independent. But I always had my dad and other family members (minus my mother) to fall back on for help.

We did share a common understanding of how people often act superior, projecting their insecurities onto others to make them feel inferior. We also shared a fear that if we had younger siblings, they might have been favored by our fathers. Even though we were both only children, this fear lingered. I have two stepbrothers, and while my dad had his views on them, it was because they were teenagers without a father figure. As an adult, I understood that he needed to use his time as their stepfather to be a father figure to them.

When I asked Cadenza if she feared becoming like her father, she looked appalled and taken aback. “I might be twenty years old and hold the rank of Lieutenant Commander in the Little Bird Army Special Forces, but I belong out in the field, not behind a desk,” she said firmly. Despite her rank, which falls between Colonel and Lieutenant General, she insisted she should be in the thick of the action. Normally, someone of her rank would be directing soldiers from a command center, far from the front lines. But as a Project Phoenix Supersoldier, she followed the traditional standards of a regular soldier, taking orders from commanders twice her age.

In the three months I’ve known Cadenza I’ve learned she’s not a woman who does things by half-measures. She’s either pleasantly jolly or howling mad—there’s no in-between. If war had to be personified, it would be Cadenza. She embodies the chaos and intensity of battle, always ready to dive headfirst into the fray.

As we stepped outside, the screech of tires pierced the air. Cadenza didn’t hesitate. She whipped out her Viperstrike .50 and took down four targets in rapid succession, each shot a perfect double headshot. It was like watching an artist at work.

“You go, I’m staying,” Cadenza said bluntly, her eyes scanning the area for more threats.

“Finish the fight,” I replied, knowing she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cadenza spoke into her earpiece, “This is Fox 101. You got Phoenixes on the ground, sir. We’re not going anywhere.”

Even though Little Bird isn’t part of NATO—being in the Pacific rather than the North Atlantic—the military here uses both the Pre-1955 and Post-1955 Military Alphabets. So, one company might be called Able, while another is Alpha. When Cadenza said “Fox,” it meant she was in Fox Company of Project Phoenix. I’d heard stories about the Little Bird military’s unique traditions, like how all artillery companies use the callsign “Yankee” followed by a number. For example, “Yankee-One” is the callsign for the artillery of the First Infantry Division or First Marine Division, depending on the division.

As I moved further away, the sound of gunfire shifted. It wasn’t just the sharp crack of a .50 caliber handgun anymore; it had become the rapid, staccato bursts of a rifle. Cadenza had a duffle bag with her, and I remembered the rumors about Project Phoenix supersoldiers—they’re trained to fight smarter, not harder. It made sense; no one wanted to lose a several billion-dollar suit of armor and the soldier inside it due to recklessness.

Even though Cadenza wasn’t wearing her armor, I knew that the combined cost of all the Project Phoenix soldiers’ gear was astronomical. Their armor alone cost twice as much as a modern nuclear aircraft carrier, fully loaded with aircraft, crew, and advanced systems. To put it in perspective, just two of the twelve Flurry-class aircraft carriers cost $11.2 billion together or 5.6 billion per carrier. So, the total cost of all twelve would be pocket change compared to the armor worn by the Phoenix soldiers.

I know the government, they want to protect their costly investments. Of course, Cadenza loves her boyfriend because he uses incendiary armor-piercing rounds in his machine gun.

As I was walking, my phone rang. It was my dad. I answered, and he immediately asked why I kicked out Martha. He wanted my side of the story instead of automatically taking his wife’s side. The last time he did that, it alienated me from him and I gave him the cold shoulder.

I explained how I kicked Mom—his ex-wife—out of my apartment after strike three and sent her back to Kansas City for rehab. I even informed the rehab center not to call me if she gets better because she took advantage of my generosity, and now she has to face the consequences.

I told my dad not to start with “I’m sorry” because, to me, saying sorry isn’t a real apology. Some apologies take time to earn forgiveness, not just overnight. He always told me that choices have consequences and he chose to believe his new wife over his only child. I still remember that Friday in June when I almost died. The only thing I said to my dad that day was, “This could be my final run,” and it almost was.

My father understood and didn’t question my decision. He knew it was my apartment, and I had set clear rules and a three-strike policy for my mom, his ex. She didn’t care about those rules, and when she broke them, I kicked her out and sent her back to the rehab center. To my dad, someone’s home is their castle and they have the right to enforce their rules. My mom was told the rules but after a couple of months, she threw them right back in my face. So out she went.

I couldn’t help but feel she went crawling to her boss, given that her rehab allowed her to work. She wouldn’t have been sitting around my place 24/7 but honestly, I couldn’t care less. She made her choices and now she has to live with the consequences. To me I don’t care if she’s back in rehab 24/7 or with her boss fucking him either way I don’t care.

My father understood completely. To him, what Mom did was like telling someone your house rules and them thinking they’re exempt. We both know family members who are step-parents, and their stepchildren hate them because they still love their own kids and don’t kick them to the curb to focus on their stepkids.

I had a family member who bought a house and one day while she was at work, her pregnant stepsister moved in without permission. She allowed it for a few nights but her stepsister took over the house even changing the locks. When she told her dad, he sided with his daughter and told his stepdaughter to leave. This caused a divide between him and his wife, but my cousin threw out her stepsister, changed the locks and installed window blockers.

Now I’m thinking about some of my family members with spoiled stepchildren who don’t know right from wrong. Some of these kids took their parents’ credit or debit cards and spent tons of money, only to find out the hard way when the cards were locked or canceled. The charges were flagged as fraudulent, and the police were involved. That’s the thing about us Watersons, we believe in karma. But this caused marital strife because their spouse would defend their spoiled children in a heartbeat. Us Watersons have an authoritative parental style that allows autonomy but enforces rules.

I remembered a story about one of my cousins. Her parents left her a hefty inheritance of almost a quarter million dollars. Her husband, living like it was the 1950s, declared that since he was the head of the household, the money was his to use for building a duplex. He expected my cousin, who has a disability that prevents her from standing for long periods, to be a housewife—cooking, cleaning, and having children. He believed that men should make more money than women and saw men who earned less than women as failures.

The next day at work, my cousin contacted a divorce lawyer. The lawyer served her husband with divorce papers right at his workplace, in front of his coworkers. When he yelled at her, my father, her cousin, stepped in and said, “A man who yells at a woman isn’t a man at all.” Her husband wanted to forget the divorce and start over, but she stood her ground and told him to leave. The house was hers, and despite his efforts to claim it, she was awarded the house in the divorce.

It's interesting how some people can't see the irony in their own actions. They get upset about not finding love or getting married, yet they don't realize how their behavior might be pushing people away.

Take my grand uncles, for example. They fought in World War II and the Korean War, and when they got married in the post-war United States, they didn't mind if their wives got jobs. This was a time when women's roles were severely limited, but some of my grand uncles' wives stayed on as factory workers, teachers, nurses, or secretaries. I think their relaxed attitude came from the old saying: "A happy wife is a happy life." They preferred their wives to be happy rather than being the kind of husbands who believed only men should succeed. Plus, many of us female Watersons can hold our own in a fight, which probably helped too.

I love being part of this family because we always stand by each other. We don't play favorites with our kids. Waterson parents love all their children equally and give advice like, "If you're trying, that's all that matters." We don't expect much, just effort. It's a lot better than parents who adore one child while making the others feel invisible.

I think that's why many Watersons get divorced. Their spouses might favor one child and neglect the others, which causes resentment. Those parents then wonder why their other kids hate them and act innocent, not taking responsibility. It's funny how some of my family members' stepkids invite them to important gatherings while not inviting their own parents who alienated them in the first place. It just goes to show that respect and love are earned, not demanded.

Don’t even get my family started on those parents who expect their kids to give 110% all the time, never letting them be normal kids. They expect constant studying and working, robbing them of a childhood. Sure, my childhood was rough because of my mother’s addiction, but at least I got to play outside and have friends.

My family finds it hilarious when in-laws try to plan their own weddings at our houses and then tell us we’re not invited. We always get the last laugh. We change the locks, install window stoppers, and set up security cameras to keep them out. Sometimes, we even pack up, move, and sell the house, leaving them with an empty, deserted venue. People say it’s extreme, but you don’t tell someone who’s seen the horrors of war what’s too harsh.

You can’t manipulate or gaslight a Waterson. We’re too close-knit for that. If one of us in Germany, United States or Little Bird needs help, another will fly from any of the three countries, no matter the cost. We’re smart, too. When a certain dictator came to power in Germany, the Watersons there just left. We stick together and always have each other’s backs.

I love my family, and they know all about my current situation with the corrupt alderman. They’re helping out in one way or another. I’ve already told the Watersons here in Little Bird about his dirty secret. If he tries anything to hurt me or put me in the hospital, the entire country will know about it. It’s the kind of secret that would ruin his reputation beyond repair.

One thing about us Watersons is our knack for seeing people’s true colors long before they show them. Take my cousin, for example. Her husband had outdated gender views, and her parents and others warned her about her husband being a jerk. They didn’t press the issue because she always defended him. We believe the best way to learn is the hard way. When her parents died and she inherited a quarter million dollars, his true colors showed. He said, “Remember this. I’m the head of this household. I’m the boss here. If you can’t follow what I say, then you can leave until you know your place.” Sometimes, people’s words come back to bite them on the ass.

Her husband jumped to conclusions and started building a family home with his parents, planning to treat her like a slave rather than a stay-at-home wife. She used her inheritance to get a divorce. It just goes to show that you can’t hide your true self forever, and the Watersons always stand by each other, no matter what.

Soon after the bar incident, Cadenza caught up to me, having just fought off some mercenaries or whoever the corrupt alderman sent. I could see it in her eyes—she enjoyed that firefight.

Cadenza, speaking in Italian, said, “Così coraggioso eppure così stupido.” When I asked what she meant, she translated, “So brave yet so stupid.” She nailed it. So many people pick fights with the wrong folks and never admit their mistake. I love how she summed up the alderman in just a few words—brave enough to start a war, but too stupid to know how to fight it, especially against people who fight for survival, not money. Mercenaries, Cadenza, Natalie, Lucy, and Ashley aren’t just fighters; they’re trained professionals.

I decided to change the subject to family. Cadenza shared how she hates her father’s side of the family, except for her father and half-brother. Her father’s side is adultery central, justifying their actions. Here in Little Bird, if you file for divorce on grounds of cheating and have all the evidence, it’s an open-and-shut case. While divorces aren’t funny, I find it amusing how people served with divorce papers live in lala land thinking their infidelity isn’t a big deal. They never consider the damage they cause and act like the world revolves around them. My mom was the same when my dad divorced her. She never thought he’d go through with it, but he did. At least he waited until I was in college so I wouldn’t get dragged into custody disputes. He waited until I turned 22 and was in university.

It’s funny how some people never see the consequences of their actions until it’s too late. But us Watersons, we see through people’s true colors long before they show them. We always stand by each other, no matter what. My family told my dad about my mom before they were even married, far before I was even conceived they warned him but he was a young man blinded in love.

Cadenza has a dark sense of humor, especially when it comes to cheaters. She finds it amusing how people act all innocent when they get caught cheating, even with enough evidence to make any judge side with the person filing for divorce. She says it’s funny how the cheater often refuses to settle and accuses their soon-to-be ex of being pig headed and destroying the family. But when they take it to court, they find out the hard way that they should’ve settled. Judges are usually harsh and the cheater ends up with nothing, often having to pay their ex’s attorney fees. Cadenza always says it’s better to settle out of court and at least get something than to go to court with a lot of evidence against you and get nothing.

I mentioned how some people are willing to fight even when the odds are stacked against them. I also talked about how some women my male family members dated gave females a bad reputation by being unfaithful or only in relationships for money. These women would go behind their partner’s back and if they got married, they’d want an open marriage.

Cadenza said that if her boyfriend ever suggested an open marriage, she’d suggest they not live together because she wouldn’t live under the same roof with a guy who wants an open marriage. Her father is a General in the Little Bird Army Special Forces, overseeing the Special Forces, Marine Commandos, and the Silent Serpents—whom I dub “Helljumpers” because they’re paradropped into hellish conditions. I got the idea from the ODSTs in Halo because it sounds awesome. If someone’s father-in-law is a high-ranking military officer, they’d probably want to stay in his good graces, not make him mad.

Cadenza clarified that the Silent Serpents were created in 1914, just before World War I. Back then, they were called “Specialized Troopers,” and their main role was to intervene when regular infantry couldn’t clear the way on the battlefield. She mentioned the German term “Sturmtruppen,” which means Stormtrooper. Initially, these troopers were primarily underweight men who could move faster than regular infantry. They were equipped with sawed-down rifles and submachine guns for trench warfare. In 1922, they were renamed Silent Serpents because they could move without making a sound.

There’s a rivalry between the Silent Serpents and the Little Bird Army Rangers. The Rangers are elite commandos used for special operations and shock troop roles, clearing out objectives before the main army arrives. The Silent Serpents take on missions that the Rangers or other Special Forces can’t handle. My cousin Midnight describes the rivalry as a big brother-little brother dynamic, with the Rangers feeling overshadowed by the Silent Serpents. Despite this, the Marine Commandos and other Special Forces see the Silent Serpents as friendly rivals, eager to fight alongside them.

Cadenza also mentioned a rivalry with Project Phoenix, though it’s more of a friendly competition. Project Phoenix supersoldiers are so formidable that they can take on twenty people out of armor and consider it a one-on-one fight or they can be outnumbered in a 20 to one fight and they will say “Then it is an even fight”. Given that Cadenza once saved my bacon, I believe it.

As Cadenza and I continued walking, I asked her what she looks for in a relationship. I felt like I was invading her privacy, but she answered openly. She values equality and respecting boundaries. Her boyfriend, Francis, was adopted, but his adoptive parents treat him as their own flesh and blood. Cadenza wants equality and boundaries in her relationship and won’t tolerate being treated as inferior. If Francis or his adoptive parents ever treated her that way, she’d break up with him faster than a moth to a flame.

Cadenza shared that Francis’s adoptive mother can’t wait to have grandchildren, but Francis told her that starting a family is on the backburner. Both Cadenza and Francis don’t really care if they have children or not. Francis’s adoptive mother never expected Cadenza to earn more than Francis, but his adoptive father doesn’t care about who earns more. To him, if two people are happy, that’s all that matters. However, Francis’s adoptive mother suspects Cadenza might baby trap Francis one day, even though both Cadenza and Francis are only children in their respective families.

Cadenza is hard to read, but she’s the type who would break up with her boyfriend and kick him out if he lied to his adoptive family about her being lazy, racking up debt, or being selfish. I’d do the same if I had a partner who called me lazy or selfish. I’m in a loving relationship with my Clairebear and my dad doesn’t care that I’m dating another woman. To him, as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters.

“Hey Cadenza,” I said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what would you do if your dad was going on vacation and told you that you couldn’t come because of your health?”

Cadenza replied, “Well, I’ve always been perfectly healthy, never really been seriously sick unless you count scrapes, scratches, and cuts. If he went on vacation without me, he’d be in for a shock when he returned to find me long gone. And if we met again and he tried the ‘Baby girl’ card, I’d tell him to stuff it. I love nature, so I’d just go live in a log cabin in the woods around Clearlake. If my dad remarried and I had a stepmom and stepsibling who abused me, and if I told my dad and they acted like I was imagining things, even if my dad told me to deal with it on my own, I’d make him regret his words.”

“Well, as they say, what you say can come back to bite you,” I said.

Cadenza nodded. “That’s true. If I had a stepmom and step sibling who abused me and my dad told me to deal with it on my own, there’s a thing called a closed casket funeral. If my dad started laying into me for taking it too far, I’d throw his words right back at him—‘deal with it on my own,’ and I would’ve dealt with it on my own.”

Cadenza added that if her father told his family about it, they’d hate her for it. But her half-brother Mitchell said that if she told a Waterson about the abuse, they’d give her stepfamily a taste of their own medicine or make their lives a living hell. They’d ensure people never trusted her metaphorical stepfamily again, no matter how hard they tried to act innocent. They’d say that giving her stepfamily a funeral would be taking the easy way out.

Cadenza shared that her father’s wife’s family has always been against her, even accusing her of being ungrateful for having her “mother” executed. Cadenza and your cousin Mitchell are heteropaternal superfecundation twins, meaning they share the same mother but have different fathers. So, she had no ties to her father’s wife.

Once, a group from her father’s wife’s family came to fight her. She picked up a baseball bat, but when they pulled out butterfly knives, she retreated into the house and came back with a semiautomatic twelve-gauge shotgun. They backed off quickly, realizing she was willing to escalate the situation to deadly force. This showed she’s trained to fight smarter, not harder, and isn’t a pushover.

Cadenza has a type one gun license, which allows her to buy fully automatic weapons and conversion kits to turn semiautomatic weapons into full auto. Getting this license is tougher than driving on black ice. There are four types of gun licenses on Little Bird:

1. Type Four: Common, requires a 30-hour course and a psych evaluation.

2. Type Three: Similar to type four but allows magnum revolvers and shotguns with a capacity of five shells or less.

3. Type Two: Allows sawed-off shotguns, handguns with a magazine capacity of 12 rounds or less, and submachine guns with single-shot fire control.

4. Type One: Allows automatic weapons and conversion kits, requiring a psych evaluation and 300 hours of training.

Cadenza knows how to defend herself, not just because she’s a supersoldier but because she’s willing to go the extra mile to get the necessary licenses. She’s the last person anyone should pick a fight with, and she knows how to use everyday objects as weapons for both offense and defense.

It’s clear that Cadenza is someone who stands her ground and doesn’t let anyone push her around. Her ability to defend herself and her willingness to go through rigorous training and evaluations show her dedication and strength.

Cadenza is definitely one of those people who keeps others guessing. She’s not someone you can control and that’s a great thing. If she had a normal nuclear family with siblings, her mother would probably have been the type to push her kids to compete and compare them to each other. But Cadenza would have told her siblings to stay in their own lanes, not to be rude, but because everyone is good at something different. She believes trying to be someone you’re not won’t get you far. She’d advise them to find what they’re good at and focus on that.

Cadenza says people are “wired up” differently. She loves guns and fighting, but if she had siblings, they might like something else. That’s true for many families. Some of my friends in the U.S. have families that love sports, but their kids don’t. Those families push their kids into sports and then chastise them for not liking it.

That’s what I love about being a Waterson. Yes, we love sports, but we also excel in other areas like reading, technology, or being handy. Take my cousin Dave, for example. He’s handy and loves working like a demolition engineer. His shop class teacher noticed how interested and fast he was at learning. Dave never wanted to be a firefighter, but he felt pressured to follow in his father and uncle’s footsteps. His dad told him he could be anything he wanted and would still make him proud. They never forced him to join the fire department. After his father and uncle died in the line of duty, a few family members told him it wasn’t his fault and that they knew he didn’t want to be a firefighter. They were proud of him for making his own choice and doing what he loves.

Dave’s father always said, “You can cry when not on shift, but on shift, people still need our help.” It might sound inhumane, but it’s true. You can’t help others if you’re not in the right state of mind. Dave goes to work as if his father and uncle are still alive. He’s glad they died on the job because they would’ve been bored in retirement.

Cadenza told me that if she ever becomes a mother, she won’t push her kids to be carbon copies of her. She won’t force them to live lives that parallel her own or become what she wanted to be but couldn’t. Despite Little Bird viewing sexual education as a taboo subject for those under eighteen, Cadenza understands that kids aren’t just carbon copies of their parents. She knows everyone is different and should be allowed to find their own path.

Cadenza chuckled, and when I asked what was funny, she shared an ironic tidbit from history. During both World Wars, the Little Bird military drafted firemen to be Combat Engineers who carried flamethrowers. She found it ironic that men trained to fight fires were given weapons that shoot fire. The military reasoned that firemen were better trained to handle fire, making them ideal for the role.

Yeah, it’s pretty ironic—picking men who fought fires to be the ones causing them in battle. It’s a classic case of turning a skill set on its head.

Cadenza and I continued our conversation about relationships. She mentioned how much she hates unfaithful people who keep their affairs hidden and then try to justify their actions by hoping their spouse cheats too. When the cheater gets caught, they end up jeopardizing a stable relationship for a cheap thrill.

In the city of Empire, everyone has a reputation. When someone cheats and it comes out, their reputation takes a severe hit. In Clearlake, where Cadenza is from, it’s even more intense. With a population of just 5,500, nothing stays a secret for long. If someone cheats on their significant other, the whole town will know. Adultery spreads like wildfire and everyone will remind the cheater of their actions, never letting them live it down even years or decades after it happened.

It's interesting how different communities handle infidelity. In smaller towns, the social consequences can be much harsher because everyone knows each other. It’s a constant reminder that actions have consequences and in close-knit communities, those consequences are magnified.

Cadenza made it clear that certain actions have long-lasting consequences, especially for politicians who cheat. No amount of PR can change people's minds about that. When I asked what she would do if she caught her boyfriend cheating, she said she’d break up with him on the spot. If they were married, she’d storm out, see a divorce lawyer immediately and have him served in a public place like work. She’d want his friends and family to give him that “What did you do?” look. If he tried to communicate with her, she’d tell him to talk to her attorney and burn any letters he sent without reading them.

I also asked what she’d do if Francis had a child he knew about but hadn’t told her. Before I could finish, she said that if he came clean right away, she’d let it slide because he was being truthful. But if he hid it, she’d hate him for keeping such a significant secret.

I get where she’s coming from. Secrets like that can come off the wrong way if not disclosed early. If someone in a relationship has kids and doesn’t tell their partner, it can be a shock when the truth comes out. It’s always better to come clean as soon as possible rather than lie and make it worse later on.

Cadenza’s approach to relationships is all about honesty and respect. She values transparency and believes that hiding important information can damage trust irreparably. It’s a good reminder that open communication is crucial in any relationship.

I shared with Cadenza how Lusty and I keep our relationship strong by not keeping any secrets. When we first started dating, Lusty told me she has kids, who are actually related to me because they came from one of my cousins, Dave. Dave and Lusty met in a neutral location with a family lawyer to draft an agreement before making it final. Even though Dave is happily married to Linda, he got her approval beforehand to stay in the loop.

Dave and Linda have a strong relationship, checking off eight criteria for a happy relationship:

1. Connection: They share a bond, in their case, firefighting.

2. Emotional Rapport and Benevolence: They care for each other’s feelings.

3. Self-Regulation: They have boundaries and don’t cross lines, even during arguments.

4. Positive Intention Frame: They avoid miscommunication and misunderstandings.

5. Caretaking in Conflict: They handle conflicts with care.

6. Mutual Respect, Accountability, and Boundaries: They respect each other and maintain boundaries.

7. Review and Learn from Mistakes: They learn from their mistakes.

8. Healthy Support System: They support each other.

Dave and Lusty’s agreement includes visitation rights, with the kids living with Dave and his family every other weekend during school and every other week during school breaks. The agreement is legally binding, so neither Dave nor Lusty can back out unless a judge says so. Lusty’s seven daughters call me “Aunt Macaroni,” even though they’re technically my cousins once removed.

Cadenza appreciated the honesty and structure in our relationships. She values transparency and believes that keeping secrets can damage trust. It’s clear that open communication and mutual respect are crucial in maintaining strong relationships.

I told Cadenza how the wife of the corrupt alderman and the people he represents wouldn’t like his dirty secret of having an extramarital affair while his wife was in the hospital. In the Commonwealth of Mountain, adultery is a felony, even though some argue it’s unconstitutional. Many religions here in Little Bird see being unfaithful as a cardinal sin. Lust is already one of the seven deadly sins and many religious texts preach that a husband and wife should live in happiness, not tear each other apart by being unfaithful.

Little Bird is a secular state, allowing all religions without endorsing one. Many people here are religious, not fanatics, but they value a happy marital life. Some believe having a strong religious belief shields them from godless communism, even though the 1950s and the Cold War are long over. I respect other people’s religious views, and they respect mine. I’m not one of those fanatics who claims their religion is the only right one.

I also mentioned the “Almighty Believers,” a religious cult that took things too far. They got political, calling non-believers Satan worshippers. It got so bad they took over a town, and the Rangers had to be called in to put down the insurrection. Lever-action rifles and muskets against military body armor didn’t stand a chance. Those who surrendered were imprisoned, not for their religious views, but for starting an insurrection. It’s a reminder that while Little Bird allows all religions, it doesn’t tolerate extremism that threatens public safety.

Cadenza agreed that certain actions have long-lasting consequences, especially for politicians who cheat. No amount of PR can change people’s minds about that.

We made it back to my apartment, and I couldn’t help but think about my family members who had happy relationships until their partners took things too far. Us Watersons have an uncanny ability to read the writing on the wall. I’ve got a few extended family members who booked trips or vacations for their partners, only to be told to sit it out while their partner brought along “friends.” By friends, they usually meant several other people, often of the opposite gender. Naturally, they suspected adultery and asked friends or family for advice, who confirmed their suspicions.

To get back at their unfaithful partners, they’d cancel the reservations at the hotel, motel, or resort. When their ungrateful partner called to complain about the canceled reservation, they’d be told it was canceled. As my cousin Mitchell says, “Us Paratroopers don’t sit around waiting.” It’s sad how some of my family members’ partners would say, “Just sit this one out,” while they went to have fun with a “few” friends, often eight or nine, mostly of the opposite gender. These partners didn’t care that their significant others spent months, if not years, saving up for the trip and canceling plans with family and friends.

It irks me how people are willing to betray their loved ones’ trust, especially at the last minute. Us Watersons don’t let unfaithful partners walk all over us and act like nothing happened. We stand up for ourselves and make sure our voices are heard. It’s a reminder that trust and respect are the foundations of any strong relationship, and once those are broken, it’s hard to rebuild.

Talking with Cadenza about bad relationships and cheating made me think about my own family. Some of my relatives won't support their immediate family unless their spouse approves. If their spouse gets manipulated by lies, they believe them without question, afraid of confrontation.

It frustrates me when people don't stand up for themselves and just go with the flow. Some of my family members who remarried let their new spouse mistreat their biological kids. They might mediate briefly but usually side with their new spouse. If the new spouse wants the kids out to start their own family, my relatives often cave in and kick their kids out.

Thankfully, those kids call other family members for help. We take them in, help them finish school, and raise them. Trust me, we don't hold back when telling off the relatives who abandoned their kids. They need to stop being doormats and stand up for their own family.

I was telling Cadenza about some of my family members who are total doormats. They let their spouse, or new spouse if they’ve remarried, walk all over them. It’s infuriating, especially when these new spouses convince them to kick out their kids from a previous marriage. Some of my relatives do it without a second thought.

But the Waterson family is tight-knit. When we find out about this, our wrath is biblical—worse than the wrath of God. Eventually, when these kids grow up and their parents and step-parents come crawling back for help, the kids just tell them to hit the road. As my father always says, “Choices have consequences” and “Karma is what comes around goes around.” Some things just can’t be fixed.

I was telling Cadenza about how some of my family members are really smart about planning for the future. Many of them set up wills, trusts, or estates to make sure their kids are taken care of. For example, I had a cousin three times removed whose parents divorced. Her mom moved out to stay with family, while her dad and his new lover moved into the house. Eventually, they wanted to kick her out, but they couldn’t because the house was in her mom’s name, thanks to her grandfather. Her dad tried to get the house in the divorce, but the lawyer told him it wasn’t possible since it was legally her mom’s.

One thing about the Watersons is that we never take the easy way out. We make sacrifices for our family. Some of my relatives work long hours and hardly see their kids or spouse. But they realize that family time is irreplaceable. So they make tough choices. Some leave high-paying office jobs to become stay-at-home parents or switch to jobs with crazy hours just to be there for their family. I have relatives who pick up trash at night so they can be home during the day to see their kids after school and spend time with their spouse. The pay might not be great, but to them, family is everything. Money can always be made, but you can’t replace family time.

I was talking to Cadenza about how not everyone is cut out to be a leader. True leaders are either brave or deeply thoughtful about the decisions they make. I shared a story about my great-granddad, Terrence Waterson Senior. He was a squad leader in the U.S. Army's 1st Infantry Division during World War II and the Korean War. When I was six, I asked him about his leadership, and he responded, “I have to live with the decisions I had to make. What would you have done?”

That question has stuck with me ever since. He was in his 40s during World War II, leading soldiers who were often just kids fresh out of high school to early 20s. He had to make tough calls, like sending scouts ahead, knowing they might not come back. It’s a heavy burden to carry, and it made me realize the weight of leadership and the sacrifices involved.

Cadenza, who holds the rank of Lieutenant Commander in the Little Bird Army and Marine Corps, is in an interesting position. This rank is between Major and Captain, often used when there are too many Majors or to serve as a second-in-command at the battalion level. Despite this, Cadenza leads her own fireteam. She explained that the 150 "Project Phoenix Supersoldiers" are organized into four-person teams: two with assault rifles, one with a heavy machine gun, and a tech specialist. Some teams also include snipers, CQB specialists, or EOD/Explosive Ordnance and Hazardous Operation Specialists.

Cadenza wanted to discuss the fight against the corrupt Alderman, but she respected my wish to talk about family and relationships instead. I shared my frustration with parents who promise to pay for their child's wedding but then blow through the money, telling their kids to postpone the wedding indefinitely. These parents often get mad when their kids go ahead and get married anyway, blaming them for rushing things.

I told Cadenza about how the Waterson family steps in to help. If parents try to postpone a wedding indefinitely, our family has no problem chipping in to make it happen. Some of my female relatives have had to ask for help from both immediate and extended family when their parents tried to delay their weddings. When their parents start to chew them out for getting married, other family members give them a glare that basically says, "Be quiet and be happy, or get out."

It's especially frustrating when Waterson kids get kicked out by a remarried parent and their new spouse. These kids often end up living with other family members. Later, when the biological parent and step-parent get mad about not being invited to the wedding or not being able to walk their daughter down the aisle, it's infuriating. Some of my female relatives have had their older nephews, uncles, granduncles, or male cousins walk them down the aisle instead. The biological parents and step-parents who kicked them out in the first place have no right to be upset. When these female relatives have kids of their own, the biological parents and step-parents suddenly want to play happy family. It's just not right.

Before Cadenza and I could finish our conversation, there was a knock on the door. Cadenza, always prepared, grabbed her Viperstrike .50 and answered it. It was her boyfriend, Francis. I’ve always thought Francis sounded more like a feminine name, but I don’t judge. After all, we don’t get to choose our names. My dad named me Mackenzie, and I had no say in it. But I did choose my nickname, Macaroni. It’s a Waterson tradition that if two family members share the same first name, they get nicknames. There are at least fifteen other Mackenzies in the Waterson family, each with their own unique nickname. I picked Macaroni because, well, Cheeseburger just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I have a cousin twice removed named Mackenzie “Sturmgrewer” Waterson. She got her nickname because she uses the outdated Little Bird 1943 Assault Rifle, which is essentially a captured German StG 44. My great-granddad Terrence, who fought in World War II, still calls her by her birth name out of respect for his experiences fighting against soldiers armed with that rifle. She respects his decision and doesn’t push him to use her nickname.

Francis joined our conversation about family and relationships. He shared his complicated feelings towards his adoptive grandparents. His adoptive mother couldn’t have biological children, and her then-boyfriend, now husband, was supportive of adopting.

I mentioned how some of my female cousins feel like they’re living in a “Twilight Zone” episode, married to men who act like children and do whatever their mothers say. When these cousins try to leave family gatherings early, their husbands lock the car and demand they apologize. Of course, they call another Waterson for help. When we show up, we make it clear that holding someone against their will is a crime. If the in-laws don’t back down, we’re ready to call the cops.

One Christmas, a cousin’s husband and his family refused to let her leave. She called her father, a Vietnam War veteran, for help. When he arrived, they insulted him, calling him an “Uneducated Jarhead.” He calmly went to his car, grabbed a tire iron, and made it clear he wasn’t leaving without his daughter and grandkids. They quickly backed down, realizing he was ready to walk the walk, not just talk the talk.

I explained to Cadenza how the Watersons are all about giving people a taste of their own medicine. Take my cousin, for example. The year after she called her former Marine father to get her out of a sticky situation, they hosted Christmas at his house. When her husband tried to leave, her father refused to let him go. When the husband protested, saying it was illegal to hold someone against their will, her father-in-law shot back, “Now you know how it feels! You did the same to my daughter last year!”

The husband was ready to fight right then and there, but he backed down. Not because he was afraid of a man in his 40s, but because the house was full of Watersons—veterans of Vietnam, the U.S. Invasion of Grenada, World War II, and Korea. Picking a fight with a house full of combat-trained men wasn’t a smart move.

That Christmas in 1983, when my cousin’s husband called his father-in-law and many of his family members “uneducated,” the veterans there set him straight. They explained that many of them had to drop out of school to support their families during tough times. In World War II, about 63% of the American military was educated, but many weren’t. The Watersons who fought in WWII didn’t have high school diplomas; they dropped out in the 9th or 10th grade to work. After the war, some returned to school as adults and used the G.I. Bill went to trade school after getting their diplomas, while others took jobs that didn’t require formal education, like truck driving or working as teamsters.

Francis shared how his adoptive parents are his real parents in every way that matters. As we Watersons say, “Family isn’t who you’re related to, but those who love you like their own.” His adoptive parents loved and raised him as if he were their biological child. To Francis, his biological parents are dead to him because they never checked in or sent a letter. He refuses to get a DNA test because he knows who his real parents are—his adoptive father, a police captain, and his adoptive mother, who worked at the Clearlake library.

Francis made it clear that if his biological parents ever showed up at his doorstep, he’d tell them to hit the road. His loyalty lies with the parents who were there for him, not the ones who abandoned him.

Francis also opened up about his extensive adoptive family, who don't see him as part of the family because they believe "family is biological." They don't consider adoption as having a real family. I told Francis that many kids who want to be adopted either can't be or face similar rejection. His adoptive parents, however, raised him as their own, showing that family is about love, not blood.

Francis mentioned that some kids act out because they haven't come to terms with losing their biological parents or fear they'll never be adopted. He was adopted as an infant and believes that "adoption is meeting a child who isn't your blood and welcoming them into your home." Unfortunately, his extensive adoptive family doesn't hide their hatred for him and openly expresses it when he's around. They only hold back when Cadenza is with him. The last time they said something hateful in her presence, she demanded an apology. When they refused, Cadenza, in a show of strength, took the cap off a fire hydrant and ripped it right off the chain. That certainly made them think twice about crossing her again.

I can see why Francis loves Cadenza. She’s fiery and willing to go much farther than Francis when it comes to standing up for him. Francis can hold his own, but Cadenza takes it to another level. When his adoptive family comes around to rub it in that they’ll never accept him, Francis usually ignores them, believing that "sticks and stones may break bones, but words never hurt." But Cadenza treats him like an overprotective mother. When his adoptive family attacks, she hits back with words that cut deep, and she has no regrets about it.

Cadenza is like those characters in books and movies who shout, “I regret nothing!” Francis chuckled when he told me about a time she stood up for him against his adoptive family. Someone made a misogynistic comment to her, and Francis walked away, not knowing what she did, but the person quickly changed their tune. It was a classic "don’t ask, don’t tell" situation.

Francis’s adoptive family is more welcoming to Cadenza, not because she’s a woman, but because she’s a high-ranking Little Bird Army Officer who makes five times what they do. The average middle-class family on Little Bird makes $5,500 a year, while Cadenza makes $22,400 as a Lieutenant Commander. But Cadenza and Francis have made it clear that they won’t put themselves in financial hardship to support people who don’t see Francis as family.

Cadenza despises Francis’s extensive adoptive family because they always want a free handout. She told a story about how one of Francis’s cousins, along with his pregnant wife and kids, moved into her farmhouse without permission. Cadenza yelled and screamed like a drill sergeant while Francis calmly called the cops. My cousin Mitchell and his partner Starlight, along with a few Island Patrol officers, showed up. Francis’s cousin tried to present a fake rental agreement, but Mitchell pointed out the flaws like only having the renter signature not the landlord and not having how much the rent is. The cops were willing to let them go if they packed up and left, but when they argued, Mitchell set them straight, emphasizing that he didn’t want to arrest them in front of their kids.

Francis and Cadenza managed to get them to leave without incident. In a town like Clearlake, where the cops mostly deal with misdemeanors and family drama, they’re immune to people pulling the pity card. If Francis’s cousin had taken a swing at a cop, they would’ve been arrested for attempted assault on a peace officer.

We talked a lot about family. Francis finds it ironic that his adoptive extended family, who hate him, come to him and Cadenza for handouts when they hit financial hardships. Cadenza doesn’t hold back, giving them a harsh version of “get off my property.” Some even threatened legal action, but they never follow through because they don’t have a case. Asking for money and being told no isn’t something you can take to court. If they did, Francis would present all the evidence of how they’ve treated him over the years. He’s willing to help his adoptive parents, but the rest of his adoptive family can hit the road. Cadenza agrees, saying their poor financial planning isn’t their problem. If she did loan them money, she’d charge interest like a bank.

Cadenza and Francis are financially responsible, focusing on essentials like bills and groceries, and saving most of their money. Francis mentioned that if they have children, they’d set aside an inheritance for them, ensuring their kids have financial support when they turn eighteen or if something happens to them. It’s a kind and loving gesture, showing how much they care about their future family. Cadenza would support their kids in whatever they choose to do with the money, whether it’s college, university, or trade school.

When Cadenza met Francis’s adoptive parents, she mentioned joining the army. His adoptive father said, “The army is a good career choice with great benefits, like having the monetary resources for a house down payment or advanced education.” Francis laughed, recalling how Cadenza nearly broke his adoptive father’s hand with her strong handshake. It’s clear that Cadenza and Francis are a strong team, ready to face whatever comes their way.

Talking about family was a great distraction from the Alderman. I shared with Francis and Cadenza how some of my extended family members, especially stepsiblings, have accused each other of crimes to make their biological parents and stepparent hate them and kick them out, even if they’re under eighteen. Those who get accused often move in with another Waterson who raises them as their own. Some have even lost their inheritance or college funds because their biological parents believed lies over the truth. It’s ironic how, years later, when the truth comes out, these parents want to extend an olive branch to the very kids they showed no mercy to.

I also told them about my cousins, whether first cousins or more distant, whose parents divorced and remarried. Sometimes, the parent they live with demands they stop talking to the other parent, threatening to kick them out if they don’t comply. These kids often run away to be with other family members. If they come to a Waterson, we listen to them because we believe in showing compassion and support. My father always taught me that not everyone goes home to love and support, so we need to be there for each other.

In the Waterson family, if a parent sides with their spouse or new spouse all the time and never believes their child, other Watersons will tell them to get their mental state checked. We believe our children but also encourage them to fight their own battles while being supportive. Those who dismiss their kids are labeled as “Forgotten Watersons,” meaning we ignore them and pretend they never existed.

The last “Forgotten Waterson” I can think of is my great-granddad Terrence’s father. When World War I broke out, Terrence and all eight of his brothers signed up for the British Armed Forces. Only Terrence and one brother survived. Their father shrugged off the deaths of five of his sons, saying, “That’s war; people die.” Terrence was similar when some of his own sons died in World War II, Korea, or Vietnam. But when I asked one of his former squad mates from WWII or Korea, he said, “In war, people die, including loved ones and your enemies,” with a tone that was heartbroken and sad. Terrence was protective of his squad because the soldiers he led were around the same age as his sons. Even though they didn’t all have the Waterson blue eyes and black hair, he saw his sons in their faces. Saving a squad mate was more like a father saving a son than a Sergeant protecting a Private.

Cadenza and Francis totally get it. In a small town like Clearlake, everyone knows each other, and they’ve seen parents who favor one child over another. These parents expect the neglected child to be tough and independent, often ignoring them during important events like sports or school projects. They’ll go into debt to protect their favorite child but turn to the neglected one for money when they’re in trouble. When the neglected child brings up the past, the parents expect them to act like nothing happened.

Francis summed it up perfectly. “If you treat people badly and don’t give them anything to remember fondly, don’t expect them to take one for the team just because they’re family. They’ll always bring up the negative.” It’s true—people remember the bad times vividly because they had to live through them.

I shared a story about one of my first cousins. Her mother, a Waterson by blood, remarried and focused all her attention on her new husband and their children, neglecting her daughter from the previous marriage. She missed her daughter’s sports practices, school projects, birthdays, and graduations. The Watersons never let her forget it. My cousin’s step-siblings have organized family photos, but she has none with her parents or step-family. Her stepdad even threw out photos that included her biological dad.

When my cousin wanted to play soccer, her mom and stepdad told her to quit for “religious” reasons, even though they’re atheists and agnostics. The Waterson family stepped in, got them to back off, and let her continue playing. When they grounded her for putting the spotlight on them, the family intervened again.

As an adult, my cousin has to explain that the people in her photos are aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, or nieces, not her mom or stepdad. Her mom and stepdad were too busy spoiling their own kids, turning them into entitled brats. On her eighteenth birthday, they made it all about her step-siblings, getting them a cake and presents while ignoring her. When she spoke up, they called her selfish. She stormed out in tears and called my dad and me. Why they came to Alabama well I never asked because none of my business, and my dad tore into them. When her step-siblings tried to defend their parents, my dad gave them a reality check; not everyone will bend over backward to please them.

We threw her a “Happy belated birthday” the following week, inviting her friends and other Watersons. Her mom, stepdad, and step-siblings showed up but threw a tantrum, destroyed the cake, and tore open presents that weren’t meant for them. All the Watersons there gave her mom and stepdad the dirtiest look, silently saying, “You’re responsible for your kids being entitled, and one day they’re going to get a reality check when someone knocks them down several pegs.”

I told Cadenza and Francis about my cousin’s ordeal with her stepbrother finding her journal. She had written down her true feelings, but her mother and stepfather either downplayed it or acted like they were great parents. When she finally confronted them with years of pent-up anger, they called her a loon and had her involuntarily committed for being "insane."

The entire Waterson family, whether in Germany, the U.S., or Little Bird, rallied behind her. Those in Germany and the U.S. sent angry emails and texts, while those on Little Bird booked the next available flight to confront her parents in person. Her parents tried to play the pity card, claiming she was unstable, but the Watersons weren’t buying it.

Some Watersons who’ve been bad parents at least have the guts to admit their mistakes and hope to repair their relationships with their children. But my cousin’s mom and stepdad never admit any wrongdoing and act like saints. My dad told them to "cut the baloney," pointing out that no sane parent would hate their child or have them committed for expressing their feelings.

Even my dad, who chose his new family over his only daughter, admits he was wrong. My grand uncle Stanley once said he’d rather be back in the Ardennes Offensive (Battle of the Bulge) than hear about a mother and stepdad neglecting his grandniece.

It’s ironic how my cousin’s mom and stepdad neglected her, but now that she’s an adult with a career in tech, they show up asking for money. She throws their neglect back in their faces and tells them no. When they pull the "we’re your parents" card, she tells her stepdad he’s not her father. Real parents don’t favor one child while neglecting another like a ghost.

Talking about family isn’t always fun, especially when it comes to parents who shouldn’t have had kids in the first place. Cadenza, with her dark sense of humor, joked about how if she and Francis ever have kids, and those kids grow up to be the type who leave home at eighteen and never check in, she’d pull the “I raised you for eighteen years and this is how you repay me?” card. She’s pretty independent, but she believes it’s kind to check in on your parents.

Cadenza mentioned that if their kids ever said they were just waiting for their inheritance, she’d remind them that inheritance laws on Little Bird allow the person who set up the inheritance to change it at any time, even on the same day the inheritance is supposed to be given, unless it’s already been received.

Francis compared it to those sitcoms where spoiled brats love their parents until they become adults and leave, expecting to get their inheritance. Then they get mad when they find out the will or estate was changed before their parents passed away, leaving them with nothing. It’s a harsh reality check, but it’s a good reminder that respect and kindness should go both ways in a family.

Cadenza mentioned that she calls her father every other day. At 48, he’s a General and the leader of the Little Bird Army Special Forces, making him a prime target for enemy spies and assassins. She worries about him because of his high rank and the critical role he plays. Cadenza believes that in warfare, taking out high-ranking officers can cripple an enemy’s command structure. She explained that while anyone can be a Private, there’s only one sergeant per squad, one lieutenant per platoon, and so on. This creates a “Limited Advancement Opportunity,” where everyone competes for limited positions.

Francis, when he’s not training or doing what he enjoys, talks to his parents every day to check up on them. Besides Cadenza, his adoptive parents are his only family, and he values staying connected with them.

I asked Francis what he was fiddling with, and he told me it was a 7.62x52mm Little Bird Incendiary Armor Piercing round. He explained how effective it is, making short work of any infantry it hits, even when suppressed. The armor-piercing rounds are great for deterring enemy light vehicles. When they hit something like armor, the impact color is blue and throws off sparks.

Francis also talked about his role as a machine gunner. He carries the M241 General Purpose Machine Gun, which is quite heavy and usually found in fixed positions or mounted on vehicles like the UH-140 Falcon helicopter. The M241 is portable at 10 kilograms (23 lbs) and mounted at 19.3 kilograms (42.5 lbs). It’s air-cooled, gas-operated, electrically fired, and drum/linkless-fed. There are two versions: the one he uses with 7.62x52mm rounds and the heavy version with High Explosive-Incendiary .50 Cal HMG rounds, which are mounted on the Little Bird version of the Humvee and the coaxial machine guns of the M2 and M2A2 Main Battle Tanks.

Francis explained that the M241 General Purpose Machine Gun is primarily used on vehicles or in fixed positions because it’s essentially a Heavy Machine Gun. It doesn’t have a bipod or tripod but uses a special stand to keep it off the ground. This means the gunner can’t fire from a prone position and has to either crouch or bend their knees to use it even though bending your knees for a long time especially in a firefight would hurt your knees after a while. The M241 is usually mounted on vehicles because it’s electrically fired, though not like a minigun that needs an external power source to spin up and fire. Francis even mentioned using a custom-built minigun in the war that had an internal power source instead of an external one.

Cadenza shared some interesting insights about her father. He's the type of leader if he sees a war becoming unwinnable or stalemated, would consider actions that might border on treason to back out without surrendering. She described him as a "lion in winter," a hero from times gone by, who believes that bureaucracies are often the downfall of countries in war. He’s a soldier and officer who firmly believes in the principles on which Little Bird was founded, but his bitter experiences have left him with contempt for the way wars are often managed.

Cadenza mentioned that her father hates hearing about commanders sending their troops into a meat grinder. He sees wars as the young and stupid dying for the old and greedy, with no end in sight. If Little Bird were ever stuck in a forever war, he would use his rank and authority to spread lies and disinformation to demoralize the troops and make the campaign look doomed.

She also emphasized that the best kind of withdrawal is retreating on your own terms rather than being conquered or annexed and forced to surrender on the enemy’s terms. Sometimes, it’s better to retreat and save face than to be forced into a humiliating surrender.

It’s clear that Cadenza’s father has a very pragmatic and somewhat cynical view of war, shaped by his experiences and the harsh realities of military life.

Cadenza suggested we pay the corrupt Alderman a visit, and Francis was all in. He’s the type of boyfriend who goes along with whatever makes his girlfriend happy, rather than picking a fight. I was going to say something, but I agreed.

As we were leaving my apartment building, Francis mentioned that his car is actually a jeep. I shared a story about my family members who were on furlough during World War II. They often said, “Half of the time when I wasn’t in combat, I was driving around in a jeep.” Back then, civilians would ask, “What the hell is a jeep?” because the iconic Willys jeep was introduced in 1941, and the first civilian models didn’t come out until 1945. Conversations about jeeps went something like this:

“I was driving almost the whole time I was over there!” a Waterson would say.

The guy would reply, “Yeah, but this ain't no tank!”

“I didn't drive a tank, I drove a Jeep,” the Waterson would respond.

The guy would then ask, “What the hell is a Jeep?”

Nowadays, everyone knows what a Jeep is. But back then, many people assumed my family members who fought in World War II were in the U.S. Armored Divisions or the United States Army Air Corps, driving M3 Stuart or M4 Sherman tanks, or flying B-17 Flying Fortresses, P-40 Warhawks, or P-51 Mustangs. In reality, many were infantry. I did have a grand uncle who flew a

Curtiss SB2C Helldiver dive bomber for the U.S. Navy in 1944-45, though.

Cadenza, Francis, and I had a deep conversation about family. Francis finds it incredibly hypocritical that his extensive adoptive family doesn’t consider him part of the family, yet they constantly ask him for favors or money, pulling the “we’re family” card. When he says no, they throw tantrums or try to manipulate or gaslight him into helping them.

Francis loves working on cars and helps his adoptive family with their vehicles, but he makes it clear he won’t do it for free. He’s drawn a metaphorical line in the sand. If they stiff him and don’t pay or repay the favor, he refuses to help them again unless they pay. He even has it all written down in a sort of contract, so he could sue for breach of contract if needed. Little Bird’s labor laws require payment for services, even within families, and failure to pay is a breach of contract.

When I asked why he doesn’t just sue them, Francis explained that he doesn’t want to waste time in civil court with his adoptive family pulling every excuse in the book to make themselves look good. He has lines he won’t cross and won’t let his adoptive family walk all over him. His adoptive parents, on the other hand, always pay him, even if it’s not with money. They might offer a home-cooked meal or quality family time, which he still considers payment because they keep their word.

Francis mentioned that his adoptive father, being a cop, can’t arrest family members for breach of contract since it’s a court matter, not a police matter. However, if it turns into a dispute, it becomes a police matter due to public safety or peace.

It’s clear that Francis values respect and fairness, and he’s willing to stand up for himself, even against family.

Francis mentioned another incident with his extensive adoptive family. This time, a different "cousin" and his family moved into Cadenza’s farmhouse, changed the locks, and claimed squatter’s rights. I cut him off to ask if it was the same cousin who tried to move in before, but he clarified it was a different one. They claimed the house as theirs, but Little Bird doesn’t recognize squatter’s rights. Moving into someone else’s home without permission or a lease is an open-and-shut case of trespassing, including breaking and entering, which are felonies.

Since Cadenza is the legal owner of the farmhouse, Francis, being the gentle giant he is, stepped back to avoid saying things he might regret. He let Cadenza handle it. Francis said that in the war, Cadenza “swore like a sailor” and she’s the type to say what needs to be said. She’s a shoot-first, ask-questions-later kind of gal, with social manners and education level peaking somewhere in high school. According to both Cadenza and Francis, she has two weapons: her very, very big mouth and whatever handgun she happens to be carrying that day. She uses both liberally. Cadenza doesn’t do things by half-measures; she’s either pleasantly jolly or howling mad, with no in-between.

When Francis tried to settle it peacefully but failed, he stepped aside and let Cadenza handle it. They both said that a locked wooden door with a normal lock and deadbolt couldn’t stop Cadenza’s fury. I likened it to an F4 tornado ripping a tree out of the ground and throwing it miles away. Francis’s extensive adoptive family calls Cadenza their “Colorful friend” because of her colorful vocabulary.

It’s clear that Cadenza is fiercely protective and doesn’t tolerate any nonsense, especially when it comes to family and property.

Francis and Cadenza shared another wild story. Francis’s “cousin” and his wife moved into Cadenza’s farmhouse, changed the locks, and claimed squatter’s rights. When Cadenza told them to get out, the wife pulled the pregnancy card, accusing Cadenza of abusing and mentally torturing a pregnant woman. But Cadenza didn’t care. Since Francis’s family only comes around when they need something and don’t see him as family, she doesn’t see them as her future in-laws. Only Francis’s adoptive parents treat him as their real son.

Francis knows he’s adopted because he saw the papers before his parents told him. When they suggested a DNA test to find his biological parents, he shut it down, saying his adoptive parents are his real parents because they chose to raise and love him.

Francis also mentioned how he ruined the reputation of some of his extensive adoptive family in Clearlake. Later, they tried to be nice to him, but he saw through it. Thanks to Cadenza’s influence, he’s not easily fooled. When they tried to manipulate him, he told them to “cut the shit.” Once, after calling them out, some of his adoptive family cornered him at school and beat him up. When they tried again, Cadenza and her half-brother Mitchell were there. Cadenza had a hickory wood baseball bat, and Mitchell brought one too. In the Commonwealth of Mountain, baseball bats are seen as both sporting equipment and improvised weapons, so the cops usually don’t stop people carrying them because a majority of the time it’s people going to go play baseball.

Cadenza’s fierce protectiveness and no-nonsense attitude have clearly rubbed off on Francis. It’s amazing how they support each other and stand up to those who try to take advantage of them.

I shared some stories with Cadenza and Francis about my female relatives who faced pressure from their in-laws to leave their jobs and adopt a domestic lifestyle. Us female Watersons always take offense to this because it’s a way of saying we should give up our individuality and autonomy to become housewives. This kind of pressure always causes family drama because we believe in self-autonomy and not being puppets to our spouses.

One of my female relatives had a particularly tough time. Her husband’s family wanted her to quit her job, close her bank account, and hand over all her money to her husband. She took offense, and rightly so. Her in-laws refused to accept that gender roles have changed. The final straw was after the Gulf War when her brother came back and surprised her with a hug. Her husband jumped to the conclusion that she was cheating. She divorced him, moved out, and moved in with family. Her husband fought for full custody of the kids, and his parents filed for grandparents' rights. She presented evidence that painted him as unstable and fought her in-laws, who wanted to take her daughter and raise her in their image.

Mitchell isn’t with us now because he went back to Clearlake to be with his wife, but his mother-in-law always says that women have a choice. Some have careers and families, some become homemakers, and some focus solely on their careers. It’s all about choice, and that choice has to come from them, not from being manipulated into a life they don’t want to live.

I shared with Cadenza and Francis about my grand aunt Lily, who was one of the millions of women employed in defense factories during World War II. Her husband didn’t want her to work because her twin sister, Diamond, was mentally challenged and could only say “Pop.” In 1945, when the war ended, he tried to convince her to quit, but she refused. He quickly backed off because many of her brothers had returned home after fighting in North Africa, Europe, or the Pacific. He knew better than to keep fighting with someone whose family had just come back from war.

I also told them about a few of my female cousins who have great-paying jobs. Their in-laws are disappointed that their sons are with women who make more money than they do. This dynamic often helps when their husbands get laid off or fired and lie about it. My cousins, who have great-paying jobs, usually have two credit cards—one for regular use and one for emergencies. Some husbands take the emergency card and go on spending sprees. With the advent of smartphones and banking apps, my cousins get notifications for every purchase. They usually get the last laugh by canceling the second card and marking each unauthorized charge as fraudulent. That makes their husbands look dumb founded when they try to use said card but it keeps getting declined.

Francis mentioned that according to Cadenza’s military psych report, she has "an unhealthy emotional detachment in regards to the consequences of her actions." From what I’ve seen, I completely believe it. Cadenza added that her father’s side of the family doesn’t invite her to events because of her deadpan snarker attitude. She’ll say whatever’s on her mind, even at inappropriate times like funerals or weddings.

Cadenza is one of those people who gives brutal honesty without warning. Us Watersons, on the other hand, usually give a heads-up, telling people to back out if they don’t really want to hear the truth. Most people who ask for honest opinions don’t actually want them. But Cadenza? She doesn’t hold back and doesn’t give any warnings. She just lays it all out there, no matter the situation.

It’s clear that Cadenza’s straightforwardness and lack of filter can be both a strength and a challenge, depending on the context.

When we arrived at the Alderman’s office building, Cadenza shared a story about her father’s side of the family. They often invite her to "adult-only" parties, but then have their kids there. Cadenza, being her straightforward self, always asks, “If it’s an adult-only party, then why are your kids here?” She has a point because these parties end up being more about entertaining the kids than allowing adults to speak freely.

Cadenza explained that these parties are supposed to be a space where adults can talk about adult topics without having to censor themselves. But instead, the hosts expect everyone to pay attention to their kids, play board games with them, and essentially turn the party into a family-friendly event. This frustrates Cadenza because it defeats the purpose of an adult-only gathering. She feels, and rightly so, that if people are going to pay for a babysitter to watch their own kids, they shouldn’t have to spend the evening entertaining someone else’s.

She clarified that these parties aren’t about cheating or anything scandalous, just a place for adults to talk freely. But when kids are present, it forces everyone to censor themselves and talk in a way that’s appropriate for children. Cadenza’s blunt honesty often gets her in trouble, but she’s just saying what everyone else is thinking. She left one of these parties early because she felt disrespected, and I agree with her. If it’s supposed to be an adult-only event, then it should be just that.

When we got to the Alderman’s office, we let Cadenza handle the talking. Francis and I stayed in the lobby, but we could hear Cadenza loud and clear. Francis mentioned that when there’s a shouting match, Cadenza is louder than a military drill sergeant.

I asked Francis about Project Phoenix. He explained that they’re trained to be killing machines who often operate independently. The project started in 1945, but the first class of Phoenixes was created and trained in October 1945, just after the war ended, so the program was put on hold. The selected soldiers were given a serum that increased their damage resistance and dampened higher brain functions, making them tough shock troops for human-wave assaults. This serum also made them jumpy and aggressive, unlike the German D-IX, which only provided bursts of energy.

We then talked about family. Francis shared a story about a member of his adoptive mother’s side who called him and Cadenza one night, claiming their child had gambled away a lot of money and was in danger. They needed money to pay off the debt or the child would be killed. Francis didn’t help because of the hate they’ve shown him for not being biologically related. A few days later, a lawyer called, revealing it was a test, and Francis had failed. He found it laughable. When he talked to his adoptive father, a Captain in the Island Patrol, his dad said faking a life-or-death situation to get money is a crime. He pulled rank and had officers visit and fine them for the false claim. If Francis had reported it immediately, they could have been arrested for trying to get money under false pretenses.

It’s clear that Francis and Cadenza don’t tolerate manipulation or deceit, especially from family.

I shared with Francis how some of my family members who remarried have stepkids who expect their biological kids to help pay off their debts or student loans. It’s not their responsibility, and pulling the “we’re family” card gets old fast. I told him how some step-parents and step-siblings take things way too far.

When I first came to Arcane University, I approached family members for help in case my dad couldn’t cover the full tuition. Many chipped in, and I used their money for supplies and food. Once I got a part-time job, I saved up and paid them back. They also supported me emotionally and mentally.

I told Francis about some family members whose step-siblings or step-parents committed criminal acts, like claiming them as dependents on taxes or using their social security numbers. We Watersons are smart enough to freeze our credit or check it often and report anything suspicious.

Some female family members have had step-parents try to force them to marry their step-brothers. Even their biological parents step in to say that’s too far. They’ll always be step-siblings, nothing more.

It’s crazy how some people try to manipulate and take advantage of family.

In the lobby of Alderman Robert Elephant's office, I was deep in conversation with Francis while Cadenza was still in the office, giving the Alderman an earful. We were talking about family dynamics, and I couldn't help but shake my head as I shared some insights with Francis.

"At least the women in the Waterson family worry in a good way," I said. "Many of them have boyfriends or husbands, and if they get a call or text about an emergency, they don't ignore it. Francis asked if it's a natural instinct because women are often seen as better caretakers, like nurses or female doctors. While that's true, it's more than that. Some of the men in our family have girlfriends who don't take their calls seriously when they're in pain. They think the guys are exaggerating until they end up in the hospital. It's a serious issue."

I continued, "Many of the male Watersons are lucky to be dating or married to women who actually worry if they get a call or text about something severe. They know it shouldn't be taken lightly. Heck, some of my family members, if they're too far away to help, will call someone close to check up or even call an ambulance just in case."

Francis nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, there are those who date people who don't check in or call, and if they end up in the hospital, they won't be believed until they come home and it's too late."

I added, "And back in America, many of my family members are into true crime podcasts and shows. They become detectives when their spouse or partner starts acting secretive, trying to figure out what's going on."

It was a heavy conversation, but one that needed to be had. Family dynamics can be complicated, but it's important to take each other's concerns seriously, especially when it comes to health and emergencies.

I shared with Francis that in the Waterson family, there's a strict rule: no one can date another Waterson's ex-girlfriend, ex-wife, cousin, brother, niece, nephew, sister, or half-sister without explicit, crystal-clear permission. This ensures that no one feels like someone else is swooping in on their past relationships or close family ties.

I also mentioned that the Fire Department in the City of Empire has a similar unwritten rule. Firefighters can't date another firefighter's ex-girlfriend, ex-wife, cousin, brother, niece, nephew, sister, or half-sister without clear permission. It's all about respect and maintaining harmony within the team.

I told Francis about a rule in the Waterson family: no one can date another Waterson's ex-girlfriend, ex-wife, cousin, brother, niece, nephew, sister, or half-sister without explicit, crystal-clear permission. This rule is in place to prevent any feelings of betrayal or disrespect. If someone wants to date a relative's ex, they must get permission first to avoid any family rivalry or drama.

Francis was about to say something, likely agreeing that this rule makes sense. Many people cheat with a lover's family member, usually a sibling, so getting permission ensures it's not seen as a slap in the face.

I also shared stories about some of my female relatives who struggle to have kids naturally. Their husbands or boyfriends often leave them, cheating with another woman or even a sister-in-law. In the Waterson family, adultery is taken very seriously. When these women find out, they don't just sit back. They call a moving company and have their unfaithful partner's stuff moved out, often to the cheater's new place. This causes marital problems for the cheater and their new partner, but to us, it's fair game. Cheating and being unfaithful are not taken lightly.

I recounted a story about one of my female cousins who couldn't have children. She found out her husband was cheating on her with her own sister. This caused a huge fight. Her sister tried to downplay the situation, but my cousin wasn't having it. Religious beliefs make this even more serious for many Watersons. Her husband didn't ask for her permission before trying for a kid with her sister, which was another slap in the face.

When Francis asked what happened, I told him how my cousin's sister painted her as the villain for getting a divorce and sending her ex-husband's stuff to her sister's house. This caused marital strife between her sister and her husband. Even their parents sided with my cousin, saying she had every right to kick out her unfaithful husband.

Francis then shared how his family doesn't have siblings demanding money for a "golden child." He mentioned how one of his cousins called him and Cadenza in the middle of the night, expecting a handout. Cadenza offered to loan the money with interest, but when they refused to pay her back, she used every colorful word in the book. Francis's adoptive family sounds like to me they’re the kind who often gets loans from loan sharks or the mafia and ends up in debt because they won't pay back.

Francis shared how his extensive adoptive family on both sides can't get bank loans due to terrible credit scores. They often resort to borrowing money without repaying or turning to organized crime. Even Francis's adoptive father warned them about the dangers of borrowing from the mafia, emphasizing that the mafia always gets their money back with interest.

I chimed in with a story about my great-uncle Jimmy "James" Richard Waterson I. As the head of the Waterson Mafia family, he made loan terms crystal clear. Back in 1954, someone asked him for a $35k loan, and he expected $20k back as interest. While not heartless like movie mobsters, he sometimes extended loan paybacks if there was a good reason. Unlike some loan sharks, he didn't add more interest if people made partial payments, understanding the burden of constant interest.

Francis mentioned how everyone on Little Bird knows James Waterson. In the early '50s, he was dubbed "THE MAFIA DON WHO BROKE TRADITION" for allowing people of different nationalities and women to join his ranks. A WWII vet, he believed in gratitude for those who saved lives, regardless of background. Despite being progressive, other Mafia families saw him as weak until he outmaneuvered them, revitalizing Fort Flurry by legalizing gambling and building casinos, saving the city from economic decline.

Francis then talked about his adoptive mother's sister, who married a much older, wealthy man. She had no concept of money, having been spoiled by their parents. Francis's adoptive mother had to give her earnings to her sister, and when she refused, she was called selfish. When Francis's adoptive parents got together, her mother expected them to support her sister financially. Francis's adoptive grandfather, a police lieutenant, told her parents that siblings have no financial responsibility to support each other. He even threatened to arrest them for child abandonment if they disowned her.

Francis's adoptive grandfather also warned that many foster parents are in it for the government paycheck, not out of love for children. This scared her parents into easing up on her. His adoptive aunt, however, married a rich man and spent his money recklessly. Cracks in the marriage appeared, and despite signing a prenup, she thought it was her ticket to a higher social circle. When the marriage fell apart, she got nothing due to the prenup.

Francis's stories highlighted the complexities of family dynamics and the importance of financial responsibility and respect within relationships.

I told Francis about some of the dynamics in my extensive family. Some Watersons are spoiled brats, the golden children to their parents, while others lack a backbone and just go along with their spouse's wishes, neglecting their other kids. I shared a story about my cousin twice removed. Her father didn't have a backbone and always agreed with his wife, spoiling her siblings while leaving her out. They even had the audacity to ask her to drop out of school to take care of her spoiled siblings. When she refused, her mother got offended, and her father sided with his wife, creating a win-lose situation: the parents winning by not fully taking care of their spoiled kids, and my cousin losing by having to care for siblings who hated her.

When they grounded her and took away her phone, she managed to contact some extended family, who put an unwanted spotlight on her parents. They tried to save face but failed. After the spotlight was removed, they doubled down on their behavior. Eventually, another Waterson took her and her siblings away to live with him until their parents straightened out. Her spoiled siblings hated living with someone who didn't bend over backward for them.

She told me about her siblings' tantrums. One would throw a fit, kicking and screaming on the floor. When asked what was wrong, she said they were throwing a tantrum, and his response was priceless. "Don't get your clothes all dirty." Another would hold her breath until she got what she wanted. When asked what she was doing, she said she was holding her breath, and his response was, "That's a good lung exercise." Their spoiled behavior didn't work on someone who wasn't putting up with it.

When it came to her part-time job, her parents demanded she give her minimum wage earnings to her spoiled siblings. She got used to it because her parents would yell at her if she didn't. But he caught her in the act and asked, "Did you work for this money, or did they?" She said she worked for it, and he replied, "Why are you giving your hard-earned money to people who don't work for theirs?" When she explained how her parents forced her, he said, "Are they here? No, your parents aren't here, so it's your money. Spend it how you want, not how others want you to."

I told Francis about my cousin twice removed and how her parents only shared their side of the story with friends and family. In the Waterson family, we always seek the full picture, not just one side. We make informed decisions based on all perspectives. The Watersons with backbones called out my cousin's parents for being childish, expecting a teenager to act as a mother to her spoiled siblings. They pointed out how unfair it was to expect her to be financially responsible for her siblings when she wasn't their parent.

I shared how back in '82, my cousin got an Atari 5200 for Christmas but was forced to share it with her siblings, while they didn't have to share their gifts with her. This double standard infuriated the Watersons at the Christmas party. Some Watersons who had to drop out of school during the Great Depression to support their families scolded her parents. They talked about how they had to take any job they could find, often in poor conditions, and how the first federal minimum wage was established in 1938 at 25¢ an hour.

When my cousin's mother started crying crocodile tears, every female Waterson, whether by blood or marriage, told her to stop. They said she had nothing to cry over and was only upset because her and her husband's behavior had been exposed in front of everyone. It was a powerful moment, showing that the Watersons don't tolerate unfairness or hypocrisy, especially when it comes to family dynamics.

I told Francis about another one of my female cousins who was married to a literal man-child. This guy took her savings, which she had set aside for their kids' education, their retirement, and general savings, and secretly gave it all to his unemployed sister for a huge party. When she confronted him, he pulled the "It's my money" card, even though it was her hard-earned money. He even had the nerve to call her an "ungrateful housewife," despite the fact that she worked after the kids left for school and was home before they got back, managing both work and house chores.

That was the final straw for her. She got her brother involved, who demanded that her husband call her an "ungrateful housewife" again so he could send him to the hospital. I told Francis how some men in my family feel like living, breathing ATMs and taxi services for their kids and wives. Whenever they try to plan something with their family, they're shot down, dismissed, and ignored. One male Waterson even woke up to find his house empty because his wife and kids had gone on vacation without him. When he does something by himself or with other family members, they get mad and accuse him of excluding them. It's ironic—they do things without him all the time, but if he does the same, he's the bad guy.

Their birthdays and other important events often get ignored, but when they go out without their wife and kids, they're painted as the villains. It's a frustrating double standard that many Waterson men have to deal with. But if a man does it to a Waterson woman then us female Waterson’s are the living persona of “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Cadenza then left the Alderman’s office. She looked like she was ready to go back for round two of yelling and screaming. But guess she was done yelling and screaming.

I was about to ask something but Francis shook his head telling me no to keep me from asking her a question because some questions are better not to ask when someone is angry.