Cinder spent most of the next few days as close to my side as she could. To my total lack of surprise, the day of the 'incident', we ended up sleeping on the couch, huddled under layers of blankets. As if waiting out a storm..

(Which, in fairness, we sorta were. A shitstorm.)

It took thirty-six hours for the Atlesian Government to reveal 'The Paladin Incident' to the world. Admittedly it was the absolute barebones version of things, but this sort of thing couldn't be kept secret. Not on the international level. As it turned out, there had been foreign observers at the demonstration, three of whom were amongst the dead.

There was a lot that Atlas could and did hide from the other Kingdoms, but deaths of foreigners wasn't one of them.

Glover, wonderful man that he was, outright ordered me to work from home. Apparently things were a complete and total mess and no place for a child. In his own words, I was not to come back to the office 'Until Cinder was good and adopted' and 'things have calmed down'. Granted I was still to actually do my work, but from my home computer. Unfortunately, whilst the work was relatively easy, it was mind numbingly mundane. But nonetheless, I owe Glover a lot for this. He's fond of a particular brand of Vacuan tequila, maybe I'll buy him a bottle (or ten) as thanks. Brother's know it's the least I can do.

All in all, whilst things are busy, they are also quiet. Put simply: No one had a bloody clue what had happened, and no one had any clue who was responsible.

The 'good news' was that the Anti-Vytal Front and the Restorationists had both publicly denied involvement. Now, knowing Watts was actually behind this, this didn't really come as much surprise to me. But the relief (and trepidation) felt by my colleagues was great. Regardless, I had taken the opportunity to learn about the two groups whilst their names crossed my desk.

The Anti-Vytal Front spoke for itself. They were people that sought the repeal of the Vytal Treaty in its entirety, seeing it as restrictive. Unfortunately, that also included all of the anti-Slavery parts of the Treaty and they had actually launched terrorist attacks on Menagerie and pro-Faunus protests. Horrifyingly, it was only after they targeted a school that even Atlas recognised them as out-and-out Terrorists.

Their targets that day might have been Faunus, but they had been Atlesian Faunus. It had been that fact that had been the final straw for the Atlesian Ruling Council. The vote on classifying them as official 'enemies of Atlas' had been unanimous, and those that had committed the atrocity had actually been executed. The death penalty was still on the books in Atlas, although was extraordinarily rare, reserved only for the worst, most unforgivable of crimes.

The Restorationists were...strange, to say the least. They sought to 'reset' the map to a pre-Treaty state, Monarchies and all. They at least were somewhat more principled, refraining from (deliberately) attacking civilians. However, as Menagerie wasn't one of the nations of the world before the war, the Restorationists sought to completely dismantle the island Chiefdom as a national entity...along with any attempt to introduce equality laws.

As one of their goals was to bring the City of Atlas out of the sky and add it onto the City of Mantle (which they hoped to reinstate as the Capital), the Atlesian Ruling Council had named them a 'banned political group' (amongst other things, I'm sure), and after a trio of Restorationists had been found guilty of assassinating a Councillor, they too joined the list of official 'Enemies of Atlas'.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

With both of those groups denying their involvement, the military turned its eyes elsewhere. Things were quiet now. It was an oppressive, suffocating quiet, but quiet nonetheless.

In fact, the only thing of note to happen since the Incident was when I had to go to the Aura And Semblance Registry to add my semblance to the records. The meeting was long, longer than it probably ought to have taken. The Adjutants there had tried to not so subtly convince me to leave the Military Archives and transfer to some other branch of the Military, with the Yellow's being their preference.

An hour and a half later, and it was a pair of clearly irritated Adjutants that had dismissed me from their office. Thankfully, despite their failure to convince me to transfer, they had actually registered my semblance without much issue. I was a little worried that they'd only do so if I'd agreed to transfer, and honestly wouldn't have been surprised if they had tried that. But thankfully, aside from some somewhat snide remarks about not thinking about my long term career, they gave me no trouble.

I could have called it something boring, like Bulwark or Shieldwall. But that was deeply unimaginative. So I named it Pridwen, after the shield of King Arthur (or his ship, one of the two). It might not have made much sense to the Adjutants, but some vague connection to my now distant home country is..more pleasant than I can put into words.

It had led Cinder to ask about its name on our way back home, and thus I found myself once again butchering and Remnantifying stories from my original world. Arthurian Myth thankfully lends itself reasonably well to Remnant, so it is easier than some fairy tales. It also gives me a bunch more bedtime stories to tell, even if they aren't exactly accurate.

(And brought up fond memories of a young version of myself, asking my Grandmother if King Arthur's shield had a name. Like Father, like daughter I suppose.)

It also lit up an idea in my head to 'borrow' Arthurian Myth and actually write some of them down in book form. It might end up just being more generic fantasy in Remnant, but it'd be good to earn a little bit more lien on top of my military salary.

But all of that paled to utter insignificance in light of what it is I'm about to go and do. It had taken me two years to get to this point. Two years of waiting patiently, without complaint. Two years getting used to the idea and coming to like and to love it.

It would hurt, not hearing 'Mister Casper' anymore. But its replacement.

Dad.

Smiling, I picked up a file of documents from my 'office table', and after double checking that everything I needed was in there, I headed to Cinder's room.

The seven year old's golden eyes fell on me as soon as I entered her room, and a small smile broke out on her face. She was in her 'work uniform', albeit with her beloved red scarf around her neck.

"Alright then." I took a deep breath, and offered her my hand. "It's time to go and get adopted, Cinder."

Her smile brightened, and she hurried to my side.

"Okay Mister Casper!"