6/22

Washington D.C.

3:00 PM

The Secret Service takes things very seriously and doesn't like it when Jose tells them exactly how many guns he's packing in his inventory. It is a lot. They make him unload them all into a big Rubbermaid tub, along with our various other weapons. Altogether we fill three big tubs. I try to reassure the agents that the guns don't matter, since we have magic. This does not calm them down.

...I might be bad at calming people down.

So we are currently in a waiting room in the White House basement. They told us to wait in the basement because they can lock it off if we start using Leveled stuff. Which is fair, I guess.

All of the core Pathbreakers are here. We're all in suits so we look quite nice.

“So Oracle?” I ask my best friend as we sit on plastic chairs that were probably comfortable in the Carter administration.

Jose counts out classes on his fingers. “Oracle plus Crack Shot equals Visionary. 5 levels to my 5th step class.”

“And you're getting good stuff from Oracle?” Madeline asks. “I have no idea how good the abilities are from those classes.”

“Got a subclass called Tracer Oracle, which focuses on combat and tracking techniques instead of spells. I got that radar Jun has, plus some other tricks.” Jose nods at me. “And your brother is currently in south California.”

Jose and Madeline are being talkative and he's explaining much more than normal. I think we're all very nervous about meeting the President.

A knock on the door alerts the two agents in the small room with us. One goes to the door, mumbles to someone outside, then calls us over. “A meeting got canceled so the President wants to see you early. You ready?”

It's funny, but high Constitution lets you hold your piss longer. “I need to pee but it'll wait,” I inform the woman. She nods and takes us through the winding tunnels under the White House, into a creaky, 1970s elevator, down three more halls and into a conference room.

The table is large and rectangular, clearly made of some fancy wood. There are paintings of dead white guys on the walls. I recognize one of Hamilton, but not the others. Probably Civil War guys, judging from their uniforms. The long south side of the room is all floor to ceiling windows. I wonder what they're made of, since they're probably bullet and blast proof. The whole room is white, the carpet is dark blue and outside in the hall are people walking and talking.

Unlike last time I was in this room, there's no dismembered demons.

“Shit, I think we're really in the real White House,” I say.

The doors open and in come four more Secret Service agents, and then the friggin president himself, David Egerton.

I smoothly say, “Holy shit, I mean hello, I mean good morning!” It is the afternoon. Fuck my life.

“Yes, quite.” David Egerton takes the seat at the head of the table. “I'll be brief. There are three reasons I called you here today. One is that I've been asked to bring you back under the government's control. I'm not doing that. I see the advantages but I also see that you'll be able to do more for the country, and the world, if you're not under my thumb.”

“Ooookay,” is all I can manage after that.

“The second reason is simple, you've all done great work for the country and I want to give you callings and titles.”

I'm not 100% on the whole Dracosys castle stuff, since those in power aren't super open about it. But callings and titles are something only a “king” of a Dracosys castle can give out. The White House is currently one of the five most powerful castles in the world, so President Egerton has such authority.

Callings are commands or motivations. The king bestows one on someone and when they adhere to it the king gains some sort of points and his castle gains some other points. I know that when you adhere to your calling you gain some extra perks.

Titles... I have no friggin idea. Probably some bonus abilities? This is the first I've heard about them. I probably should have read those files my brother left us.

The President speaks again. “But before I give you my blessings, I want to ask you about my third reason for your visit.” He folds his hands together on the table and looks even more serious than normal. “I want to ask if you'll fight the raid boss.”

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The Dracosys had announced that there would be a raid boss on 7/10. Some powerful monster who's apparently coming out of “the least challenged dungeon.”

An aide addresses us. “We know the location already. Antarctica. The mountain just north of McMurdo station. A ten floor dungeon that's been untouched by humanity.”

“Sir, do we know why it's there?” asks Madeline.

The President nods. “The monsters that come out are of two types. Fleshy blobs and little grey aliens. From that we've pieced together that the dungeon is based on pop culture- The movie The Thing, which takes place in McMurdo, and rumors of buried alien spaceships.”

“Well that's dumb,” I say. “How bad are the dungeon breaks?”

An aide steps forward, handing out documents relating to McMurdo. “So far only one casualty. There's a small armed force there, and the monsters don't move very quickly. The greys look like they'd die from exposure if given the chance.”

Quins asks, “you yanks wouldn't be hiding real aliens, now would ya?”

I elbow him in the stomach, but the President just laughs. “I get that all the time. No aliens, much to my own disappointment.”

Madeline seeks to bring the conversation back to the reality of monster fighting. “Sir, we're sure this is the location of the raid boss?”

The aide addresses us again. She looks like CIA, maybe, judging from the black suit. Since working with Alicia Bennet, I've revised my CIA policy from “fuck the CIA” to “probably fuck the CIA.” She says, “we've been working through the U.N. to ensure every dungeon has been challenged once, except that one. We're the ones answering the question of which one it'll be. McMurdo is isolated and already evacuated.”

Henry Gallup asks the President, who was a two-star General before he got elected, “can we expect hardware?” In military speak, hardware usually means tanks, sometimes jets.

It's been noted in the news that David Egerton is the right man at the right time. Military advisors can talk about a military operation with an elected official who knows what the fuck is going on. And knowing that he used to be a Ranger back in the day, just like me, does give me a sense of pride. I'm so glad he got elected in 2016 and neither of the other idiots did.

President Egerton nods and lets us know the score. “We've got a few arctic-proof tanks, 10 to be specific. We can fly air support if needed, we'll have a carrier, the Eisenhower, out there as support and your base of operations. I'll have more to tell you when we get close to the operation time frame.”

“Wait, sorry, mister President.” Mercy turns to me. “Are we already agreeing to this? To fighting what might be some super powerful monster?”

I see concern in her eyes. We just escaped a 20 floor dungeon, and are talking about taking on another unknown enemy. “Yeah, Mercy, I think we can help. The monster will probably be big enough for the big guns to handle it without us, but if it's some small, melee fighter or something else weird, I want to be there.” I already told them about the fight with Jupiter back in Vegas. “There's a chance it's something immune to bombs and bullets.”

The President gives us his most General-ish, grave voice. “I assure you, miss Mahar, that we do not intend to send you off to die pointlessly. In fact, the plan is for your team to stay on the Eisenhower until we know what we're dealing with, and if we need you.”

That seems to settle Mercy down. Damn, I've got to get a gravely, serious voice.

The President says to the group, “we can settle the details later. For now I want to get to giving you callings and titles.”

He stands, and addresses the person closest to him. “Mister Gallup, please rise.” Henry rises and stands before the President. I notice now that there's an official photographer in the room. I'm sure one day when Henry gets elected President himself, those pictures will be priceless.

The President places his hand on Henry's shoulder and closes his eyes. I know how this works. The President is given a choice of two possible callings and he chooses one of them for the recipient. “Henry, what's more important to you, your family or your country?” President Egerton asks it while his eyes are still closed.

“Our country,” Henry says, and from him I believe it.

“Very well then.” The President's hand glows with a soft golden light and he opens his eyes. “Your calling is to protect your country through your honest heart. It's good calling.”

“Thank you sir,” Henry says, and steps aside for the next person.

This continues with each person.

Mercy is asked what is more important, love or power, and chooses love. She gains the calling “Protect your loved ones on their journeys.”

Madeline Diaz is asked about her children, whether their future or present is more important. Madeline answers the future. She gains the calling “Protect the future by training others.”

Quinton Sheffield is asked to choose between his pride as an archer or his pride as a soldier. He chooses archer, and gains the calling “Pierce the hardest targets.”

Jose Amarillo is asked to choose between family and friends and chooses family. He gains the calling, “To always return to where you call home.”

The others get callings as well. They're mostly “Do Good” except for Rutger. Theirs is “Find home, ” which, damn, that's heavy.

Finally, it's my turn. The President puts his hand on my shoulder, closes his eyes, and then frowns. “What?” I ask.” Are my options stupid or nerdy?”

“No,” he says slowly. “There's too many options. Must be dozens. I've never seen this before.” We stand there for almost a whole minute before he asks me, “Mister Han, just tell me what you think your calling is.”

I blink. I... Had been thinking about this a lot since we were told we'd be coming here. I used to think my calling was to get revenge for 9/11. Then after R-32 it was just to get through another day. When the Dracosys hit, I thought my calling was to use my military training to get my friends home safe. Then we started the Pathbreakers and now, I know what it is.

“I think my calling is to stop the Dracosys itself.”

President David Egerton hesitates, just a second, before confirming my new calling. It was just a second. It could mean nothing. Or, as my new, world-class Wisdom is telling me, it means something important. Like maybe he doesn't want the Dracosys disassembled.

That won't stop me. He won't stop me.

He addresses the room. “I've also given you titles, that of Trailblazers.”

I'll check out the mechanics later. “Mister President, there's something else,” I begin. I get a glare from Mercy but continue anyway. “We got some scrolls, they allow us to propose changes to the Dracosys, and then all leveled vote on the changes.”

There's silence in the room.

“Changes?” the aide asks.

We (mostly Mercy) goes over the scrolls and how they work, and how they don't work. They have questions. We have few answers, except for “we're keeping them.” The President leaves the room to let the aides take care of this new variable, and we (except Quins) salute him as he goes.

There's another hour and a half of Amendment talk. After a while I suggest that the aide just joins our Discord server and contacts us later. I'm exhausted. I got a few hours of sleep at the hotel and I just want more. I think we have a flight tonight? Ahhhh I just want to sleep!

We collect our weapons and leave the White House through the side gate. There's reporters there but I guess we don't look important because nobody asks us anything. Since most of us are super fit now, we probably look like more Secret Service agents.

We get dinner. It's an Italian place. They serve chili on spaghetti and it's amazing. Finally, after our longest dungeon yet, we head home.

17 days until the raid boss.