As I took in the sights of my ruined block, a frantic and hurried sound came from the front door of my apartment. Soon enough, the door swung open, revealing my brother.

"Dean, this is bad," out of breath due to quickly un-barricading the front door, Renton rushed to my side holding a tablet with a live stream of something playing on it.

"Residents are urged to stay in their houses for the foreseeable future. Urgent news following, please be advised… the President has issued a state of emergency for the entire country."

Raising an eyebrow out of concern, I watched the screen change to a view of the United States President speaking in front of his usual podium while wearing a somber expression.

"If the actions of these individuals persist, I will be forced to initiate a state of Martial Law, putting the local military forces in charge of the situation."

"So I strongly urge you, the people of the United States of America, to cease all illegal activities and stop these riots before we are forced to make a decision that will have implications lasting for generations to come."

Puffing out a breath of air, I looked up from the tablet to my brother, who, instead of watching the stream, was surveying the scene around me while holding the tablet, so I had a good view.

Having already heard the announcement, Renton didn't want to listen to it again, his goal was for me to see it, and thus instead of wasting time, he observed the damage outside.

"Ugh, well, this is to be expected, hey Renton, you realize if he declares martial law, we will be forced to join up with the Reservists," I said, tossing the backpack full of looted spoils over my shoulder.

As Active Duty Military servicemen, Renton and I were subject to a reshuffling if necessary since the President could forcefully redistribute anyone on leave at a moment's notice to assist the National Guard, also known as "Reservists," since their official title was Inactive Reserve.

Another thing that should be mentioned is that even the people who had finished their contractual service term were listed as Inactive Reserve for a few years, so they, too, could be called to action in a state of emergency.

"So, what's the plan here, Dean? Are we going willingly?" Renton asked as he walked over, looted up a couple of rifles I had no space for, and slung them over his shoulder.

Before responding, I went silent, lost in thought. I had to think about that answer for a second before deciding. What should we do versus what we would be forced into doing?

Technically, we didn't have a choice here. Still, with the chaos happening all over the country, it wasn't like the government had any opportunity to take a tally of every servicemen and their whereabouts.

In theory, we could fly under the radar and act like civilians, but with how many people nearby knew that we were home on leave, odds are, we would end up as one of the first few called to arms.

Wearing a frown and shuffling the gear I was holding, I bumped into Renton's shoulder with my own before speaking.

"We gear up; luckily, since we were prepared to ship out after our leave finished, we have our cammies *Camo uniform*. As much as I hate to admit it and wish we could stay home to protect our family, it's the right thing to do."

"You need to remember service before self; in this case, we have a job to do, and if we are called to do it, we must answer." Watching my brother's reaction from the corner of my eye, I saw him nod before steeling his resolve.

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Standing side by side quietly, we took a final look around the block we had grown up on and knew things would only unravel from here on out.

"Let's go; we need to give everyone a crash course on handling certain scenarios without needing us present. It won't be much, but it should be enough to keep their heads attached if something like this happens again." I said, making my way toward the apartment.

---

**PRESENT DAY**

With anxious eyes, Jimmy and Baldo stared at me with uncertainty.

"So, having a military background doesn't surprise me one bit, honestly; it explains how a newbie like you can lead a faction as large as the Unitists the way you have," Jimmy stated blatantly.

"It also explains your fighting abilities; I've heard stories about your bravery in combat and your skills on the battlefield. Many stories have been told about the great Slayer and his brother. There is a nickname for the two of you amongst our people. Have you heard it yet?" Balto said curiously.

The truth was that I had, and Renton and I had gone by it for years. We had earned the name for a reason, and it was a title that both of us immensely enjoyed.

"I have, and let me tell you, they wouldn't call us the Ragnarok Brothers if there weren't a reason for it."

"We have been in every major battle since the Requiem and always left a trail of bodies behind us everywhere we went. In other words, fighting against either of us is to meet your end."

Wearing a fierce expression, I kicked my chair back and stood up before pacing the room on my side of the conference table.

"There is more to that than you realize. The nickname is based on an event in Norse mythology." Catching sight of Kris, I saw her body twitch as a shiver ran through her.

As I prepared to put on my little show for Jimmy and Balto, the woman knew where I was heading this conversation. It wasn't the first time she had been present for it, and with how life worked, it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Years ago, Renton and I were labeled the Ragnarok Brothers for multiple reasons. Whether it be because coming against us meant certain death, our use of Norse events in conversational comparison, or because we had been at every major battle that decided the fate of the populous at the time. None of these could be considered the proper reason."

"In actuality, every time shit hits the fan, we would fall into a habit of screaming about Valhalla or Odin being with us, and in turn, turn into the Viking scourge our Ancestors were proud of being."

As I spoke, I emitted electricity into the room, charging everything around me for effect. I also took control of the room's lighting and dimmed them for dramatic effect while extracting half the power going to each bulb.

Basking in the soft hum of electrical interference caused by my stolen ability, my eyes fell on Jimmy and Balto, observing their body language as our host's eyes went wide at my display.

"In Norse Mythology, there is a legend, the Legend of Ragnarok; another name, Armageddon, easily defines it. But it is more than just that."

By this point, the static electricity under my control became physically tangible as thin bursts of yellow lightning flickered around the room, crashing into any object that could conduct it.

"In truth, Ragnarok is a series of events that will set the stage for the end of the world; in some cultures, Ragnarok is defined as a battle between the Gods of Old and Giants of ice and fire."

"The two forces clash in a Final battle, a battle to end all battles, and ultimately this war will end up destroying the entire planet and inevitably submerging it under water."

"In my opinion, the name itself was more akin to a prophecy handed down to Renton and me, a title, and as such, it became a title we accepted and embraced."

Upon finishing my monologue, I discharged all the electricity I had stored, bursting every lightbulb in the room simultaneously before releasing my control.

With my show complete, the room was silent and dark for several minutes until Balto lit a small lantern with a Zippo lighter.

Sniffling and rolling out my shoulder to loosen the muscles, I returned to my chair beside Kris as she shuffled in her seat uncomfortably. Hiding a wry smile, I sneakily placed a hand on her thigh.

She relaxed as my hand touched her leg and reverted to her usual tough façade, understanding my personality and love for theatrics, but more than that, Kris trusted me not to do anything stupid.

She knew how powerful I was, had seen me in combat, and fought alongside Renton and me multiple times. She knew what I was capable of, and I knew deep down that part of her was afraid of me.

Part of me was saddened by this deep-seated fear housed in her psyche, but no matter what I did, it was always hidden and waiting for an opportunity to show itself, like a few moments ago.