Returning to Zippy, her friends asked questions about her mother, making Rachel laugh while recalling how amazing she really was; it helped to talk about how proud she was to have a mom who did absolutely everything in her power for their family.
The weight against her chest lightened, hearing the others reassure their commitment to rescuing her mother by imagining all the things they could do once all this was over.
Rachel was too much of a realist to believe the whole universe would go back to how it was after all of this was said and done. At the same time, she couldn’t picture her mother wanting anything else than to be surrounded by girls and boys she could call her children.
Her mom was just that—a mom—and it was all she needed to feel fulfilled in life; her happiness came from being around those she could tend to and care for.
Just survive, Mom… I know I’m asking the impossible, she thought, staring at the glowing half-crescent in the heavens. I know I’m probably dreaming… but I have to. Heh. Is this what it’s like to have faith?
She tightened her fist.
If believing you’re strong and powerful will give you power… I’ll believe forever. My mom is invincible… after all, you’re a goddess, right?
Jumping out of the truck as they arrived at the pier that Zippy was stationed at, she didn’t touch the ground before Fiona drew them into the air, creating an earth shell to block the moonlight from touching the unicorn.
They hovered above the docks, seeing hundreds of military vehicles parked around her turtle, which was more to keep out some of the camping public than for anything else, but it seemed the personnel were now unloading some of the military supplies they’d stored on Cahira’s craft.
Galatea floated out to meet Teresa and her master, dancing with the leviathan on the ground—too heavy for Fiona—as the photographers snapped away from many hidden or open areas; she could hear every click or tap.
Selvaria activated her suit so she could fly; showing it off to her mom and carrying the woman to Zippy was Rachel’s guess.
In this new reality, it appeared their public perception was even more transparent than she thought, which likely came from her much different father.
Maria and the others commented on it—the unicorn hated the news and reporters—yet it was all just buzzing noise to Rachel; her focus was on the pair speaking in one of the military tents below.
She sent the others to go talk with whoever was currently in charge, letting them know they were about to shove off; Fiona, Nora, and Nemesis—after Rachel asked—would help unload whatever they didn’t want to be taken, but Tom had called ahead, so most things were already packed up.
Rachel expected the military man to fly to France after setting everything else in order here in the U.S.; he knew they were at the center of the biggest storm, and keeping good relations would be critical for the future.
Anthony’s expression lingered on the tent as Fiona set her down in front of the entrance; she could sense his discomfort with the prospect of talking to a psychiatrist. Rachel gave him a wink and kiss, waving him off.
“We’ll be fine; I’ll go first to, heh, set the mood.”
He bent down to make it easier. “I feel almost bad for them.”
The others chuckled, and Fiona flew them up to get things prepared; Cahira went to speak to Jack, who so happened to still be in the bay; Rachel wanted her to set up a meet between them near French waters since his extended crew of captains appeared to be connected to Melissa’s sister.
Waiting outside as the two psychiatrists hurriedly collected what supplies they’d need once a soldier told them the group had arrived, Rachel watched Zippy’s massive turtle head exit the water, causing awed gasps to spread through the crowds.
The giant turtle stretched out, preparing for the flight and causing waves to crash over the side of the dock, creating a bit of panic. She was a little surprised to have heard Erica—Fiona’s fox Beastkin lawyer slash publicist friend—was nearby, trying to get through the blockade.
Rachel’s gaze shifted to Richard, and the slightly overweight black-haired woman who would be sitting in on their session—Sheenie Ambardar—Rachel didn’t expect it to go past a single one.
“Doctor Raynott, Doctor Ambardar.”
“Rachel!” the elderly man smiled, shaking her hand. “I, uh-heh, wasn’t planning on a visit to France, but here we are,” he motioned to his carry-on suitcase. “We’re flying in luxury, I see,” he mused, admiring the fidgeting turtle.
“This can’t be legal,” Sheenie mumbled.
Rachel briefly took her extended hand before guiding them toward Zippy’s gates and waved at Fiona when she came into view. “Welcome to the end of the world; we’re leaving immediately.”
Fiona noticed her gesture, breaking away from Nemesis and Nora to meet her. Confused, Raynott and Ambardar looked up curiously as they studied the tiny, glowing fairy.
“What’s up?”
“Erica’s nearby; I don’t think she knew we would be returning this soon or that we’re leaving.”
Her sparkling green eyes lit up. “Ooh! I’ll see if she wants to join us; I haven’t been able to catch up that much lately. That cool?”
“Yup.”
“Awesome! Hehe. I’m going to try to hide in her fox tail—Nora thought about it.”
“Funny!”
Seeing her off, Raynott and Sheenie appeared to be a tad overwhelmed by the fast pace of things, but the hustle and bustle lessened once they made it onto the giant creature’s back; all sound outside dampened, providing a sense of peace from the Dragon Turtle’s passives, not that it did much to block her hearing.
Richard made a few comments as they proceeded toward the manor, but Rachel saw Sheerie’s gaze lingering on the large, magical cannons mounted on the walls; obviously, she was not a fan of the powers demi gained from The Oscillation—Tom had said she would provide the ‘counter opinion’ of the exchange.
Waving at the bushy-tailed fox woman as Fiona carried her onto the boat, she paused when the turtle began to pull away from the dock and the gates closed, Cahira walking up the ramp.
“The message be sent, boss,” she grinned, redirecting her attention to Erica. “Ah, we have a foxy lass joining the crew, eh? Why don’t we have a tour!”
Fiona gave the grinning redhead a leery look as she joined the two; naturally, the pirate’s first destination was to show off how large her weaponry was and introduce her turtle, taking them into the sky.
Sheenie’s face turned white upon seeing the ground leave the ramp and the gates close. “It… actually flies?”
“More than that, love! Oi—is Selvaria on?”
The leviathan dropped out of the sky with Galatea and her mom. “Present. Oh, Mom, let’s go to the tail—Zippy likes his tail scrubbed—it wiggles and is so cute.”
“Hehe. We have time, Selv; we don’t have to rush things.”
“There’s just so much to show you,” she smiled, tugging her away and eventually looping one of her arms around her mom.
“Haha. I’m coming! I’m coming!”
Richard continued into the manor with Rachel and Sheenie in tow. “You have a lively team, Rachel.”
She chuckled. “You could say that. Let’s go to one of the sitting rooms.”
“One?” Sheenie questioned, eyeing the extravagant interior decorated with gold, silver, and various artwork the Pirate Queen seemed to have plundered from the quests. “Where… does all of this come from?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to find that out,” Rachel returned, adding an innocent smile. “You’ll be with us for at least a day or two… This one will do.”
Heading inside, she dropped into an armchair, facing two others; crossing her legs and adjusting her dress, Yseress hissed within her Core.
“What unique abilities do these psychiatrist humans have? I sense three magical items with the woman, yet nothing Nia described to me is standing out.”
Nia withheld a “Big Sis, watch out for their mind control powers; all of them have it!”
“…You are messing with me.”
“Hahaha! You thought they were mind suckers; you’re so funny, Big Sis!”
Rachel let Nia try to comfort the embarrassed and frustrated nephilim as she addressed the two; the poor woman had such a superficial understanding of human culture that hadn’t fallen into total ruin.
“Ahem. I don’t mean to rush you, Richard, but I believe we should get to the point and not pretend this is anything other than confirming biases.”
Sheenie settled in with a fake smile. “We are not here to judge you; we’ve been asked to deliver a report on your mental state after such a tragic occupation.”
“Occupation?” Rachel smirked, leaning against the side of her chair; obviously, she had her own idea of what took place in Cuba. “Interesting choice of words; is your intent to try to rile me up? Honestly, I could care less about your opinions of me.”
“Why is that?” Sheenie hummed, taking out a laptop to fold it around and produce a digital pen to write on the screen. “Do you believe we are wasting time?”
Richard sat back, watching them with a passive expression; it wasn’t hard to see Sheenie’s attempt to push her into becoming upset.
Showing nothing but comfort from her posture and lax expression, Rachel shrugged. “You might see this as pointless, but I can see value in it. Why don’t we introduce ourselves? Hello, I’m Rachel.”
Despite the woman’s calm demeanor, she was tense; on the other hand, Richard was more frustrated as to how things had begun.
Richard sighed. “Rachel… I know you’re pushing us, and it’s true, there are reasons for you to be on edge, but I’m truly interested in knowing how you are doing.”
“I just want to skip by the formalities,” Rachel returned, seeing Gisele float into view beside the window; she probably wished she could be inside with her. “Politicians want to see if I can be swayed to whatever direction they want or, in short, to control Mythic. Am I wrong?”
Sheenie shifted a little in her chair, plucking her sleeve a second to straighten it out. “I’m here to hear your story. Why don’t you tell us?”
Rachel instantly replied, processing the question with her accelerated mind, not letting the final word leave her lips before responding. “In the interest of all our times, why don’t you tell me what you know?”
A wry smile lifted the woman’s mouth as she extracted a small brass bell and placed it on the side of her table, tapping it once without explanation. Rachel could guess what it was—a lie detector—it was cute; Richard’s reaction said he knew she could bypass such items.
“That isn’t how this works, Rachel. We are here to listen to you. So, please, tell us from your own experience what has happened to you since The Oscillation.”
“Okay,” she smiled, catching the underlying notes in her voice that said she didn’t believe everything she’d read in her file, and if she didn’t believe that when it was already censored, Rachel could see where this was going. “I’ll start at the beginning.”
An hour passed as she went over her experiences, only skimming and leaving out details like Anthony’s connection to the eldritch, Twilight, and Yseress, though she did mention the Deep Ones and the threat they posed.
The man and woman across from her had opposite reactions. Richard was stunned at the extra details and scope while the woman made notes on her pad from time to time. On the other hand, Sheenie’s muscles grew tighter with anger as she occasionally glanced toward the bell, silent throughout the exchange.
“And so… I watched Lucifer—yes, the real Lucifer—take the Japanese fallen creation deity away to his palace.”
“The Seventh Layer of Hell?” Sheenie mumbled.
“Eighth,” Rachel responded, showing an innocent smile and chuckling when the bell rang for the first time. “Whoops. No, you’re right; it was the seventh. My mistake! Your little bell is so nice and quiet.”
“Hmm. You do seem to believe what you are saying,” the woman returned. “Ahem. How do you feel after being exposed to so much tragedy?”
“I’m good!” Rachel laughed, her bright, eclipse-like clover eyes narrowing as she smirked. “You don’t believe the report or me, which is why you keep looking over at that bell to confirm your bias.”
Richard watched the entire dialogue between them, piecing together his own thoughts on her attitude and reactions.
“You feel nothing for killing Conner or Relica… No guilt for what happened to the Cuban men you allowed to be murdered by Grace?”
“I’m a monster!” Rachel mused, sitting back to stare at the uncomfortable woman. “No. If I’m being honest. I have murdered, tortured, and broken people, and I don’t have a wink of trouble sleeping at night.”
“No compassion for your fellow man?” Sheenie pressed, seemingly happy she was recording her blunt responses.
“Aren’t I a demi—why should I?”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“If you could answer the question without a question,” she chided. “I understand you are being facetious, but I am trying to accurately grasp your current state of mind.”
“Ahem…” Richard took a deep breath and let it out, showing a small smile. “Rachel… You have had the most insane two months I… could ever imagine. You’ve been thrown into an alien body, and, at the very least, the U.S. government has used you to help in their operations… Very brutal and graphic operations that would scar anyone.”
Sheenie shifted a little and looked around, trying not to show her rolling eyes and exasperation.
Rachel could hear his sincerity as he continued. “You went from battling terrorists to rescue a woman’s little brother—forced to kill in order to save lives—and right after saving thousands, you were taken to the FBI to be unfairly judged.
“The military threatened you into joining their ranks for a pardon, flown to Montana on the drop of a hat—no time to contemplate the tragedy of Miami Beach—to fight aliens… face impossible odds, and if that was enough, when you returned, your vacation was interrupted by your friend pulling you into a slave trafficking confrontation…
“Hah, where your mind was influenced by Relica—a multi-national terrorist that became fascinated by you—”
“Terrified as time went on,” Rachel corrected with a slight smirk and nod to the side. “Relica was a complicated woman, to be sure, but she bit off more than she could chew.”
“Right… Heh, Rachel… Your ‘vacation’ after that was to go on a Legend’s Quest, which—as we’ve been informed—is an extremely dangerous venture… that you brought your father on in order to fish?”
Rachel’s face fell a tad, having been forced to leave out her mother on that trip, which had been the first time she’d cried since she changed, locked in her mother’s terrified arms; her mother knew exactly what they faced and that was the reason for her breakdown.
“…Yeah.”
He studied her reaction—the first she’d had—but Rachel couldn’t help feeling the knife since her heart was still bleeding. “What… did you regret on that trip?”
“Hmm-hmm,” Rachel played with her braid at her front, finally catching Sheenie’s interest. “I regret not telling my parents a lot of things… Rebellious teens, huh?”
The woman frowned, vision moving to the silent bell again before making a few notes; she’d taken the back seat, which was the best choice since she was far too invested to ask pertinent questions to pull anything but Rachel’s sarcasm.
A solemn look crossed Richard’s eyes. “You do have a blindspot when it comes to your father… Is he proud of you?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Rachel laughed. “You should see him getting things ready for the medals I’m getting, and the souvenirs brought back for him. I’m his pride!”
Finally… his pride, or so I always wanted, she hollowly whispered to Nia, who started tearing up while hugging her spirit.
“Big Sis and I are proud of you, big butt!”
Hehe. Thanks.
Richard’s mouth tightened, trying not to miss any movement she made. “My point, Rachel, is that you have had more traumatic events than… anyone could ever ask someone to endure—and in less than two months.”
“I know,” Rachel sighed, sagging in her chair. “I should have taken at least two weeks off after the eldritch mist bros incident—spent more time with the family instead of going to Cuba—but… if I did, haaa, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Because we’d all be dead?” Sheenie asked, writing ‘main character syndrome’ next to ‘narcissism’ on her digital sheet by its motions.
“Main character syndrome, indeed!” Rachel snickered, making the woman’s pen pause. “Tell me what you really feel. Are you really such a denialist that you believe everything within my file is a fairytale? No…”
A sly tilt came to Rachel’s lips, and her ears shifted forward as her glowing irises centered on the tight-mouthed woman; she was beginning to see the dots. “You believe I have some kind of mental power that is manipulating everyone around me into believing my delusions. Is that it?”
“Oh? That’s an interesting line of thought,” Sheenie whispered. “Gods, devils, and mass genocide… The degree deep fakes have advanced since the advent of technology demi, and the many recent mental manipulation scandals involving world leaders—that we have already seen—have increased over the last two months on an unprecedented scale. Can you deny that and its concern?”
“Ha-ha-ha! Is this what some members of congress actually believe?” Rachel asked, shaking with mirth. “Is the moon landing fake—the world flat?”
“Haaa.” Richard shifted his chair to glance between them. “This isn’t supposed to be about any agenda, Doctor Ambardar… We are here to understand Rachel’s mental state after the horrors in Cuba.”
Rachel motioned to the window. “I could get my little pet bird to collaborate as a witness—Fiona would need to translate,” she thoughtfully hummed. “Maria could then verify it since she cannot lie, and Nemesis has personally murdered thousands himself in Cuba as a warlord in Havanah.”
“This is so silly,” Sheenie shook her head as her face hardened. “Millions of people dead in a month… No, obviously, the U.S. military has gone rogue with presidential support, using The Oscillation as a cover for war crimes. Everything ‘world-ending’ seems to revolve around your group… What is your end-game?”
“You… actually said that?” Rachel whispered, now seeing why Tom was so agitated when mentioning this ‘psychiatrist’ meeting. “You have three magical items on you… one to prevent mind control?”
The woman stiffened at the revelation, yet Richard was already covering his face in exasperation at how off-the-rails they’d gone. “How could you know that?”
“Doctor Ambardar, Ms. Park,” Richard breathed. “Can I ask that we save this sort of discussion until after the session?”
Rachel stood up and walked to the window to smile at Gisele, still hovering outside, wanting to be useful if anything came up; she opened the window to let her land and scratched her neck. She was done playing games with people, and things had risen to the point where she no longer cared much for what politicians thought of her.
“Richard, I will be very blunt with you and Sheenie; you can call it ‘main character syndrome’ or ‘narcissism’ or anything in between, but this world would have been destroyed had not Tom, me, and many others rose to the occasion over the last two months.”
She turned to show her true apathetic face to the tense woman. “I don’t care about my ‘fellow men’ as much as I care for any other faceless person I’ve never met. My goals from the beginning have been selfish, but you don’t seem to understand that Tom knew that from the start and made sure my interests and that of the nation aligned.
“Make no mistake, I only care for a tiny number of people, Richard, you hold a small place at the edge, and that is why I cared enough to have this conversation in the first place… it would have been nice if Julia had been able to make it.
“You can’t even conceptualize the stakes that I am forced to deal with… so, you’ll have to forgive me; I do find this meeting pointless to me, but I can see why it would be helpful for you, Richard, and take the heat off Tom.”
Sheenie’s arms tightened around her core. “You’re plotting something?”
“Haha. I don’t care about the United States government or trying to control it; my mind is focused on planes of existence far beyond this small planet and its scope—on killing things more powerful than gods—so you can go around in circles with your little dance for congress and their conspiracy theories about losing power, Sheenie, but you’re not even on my mind with how small you’re thinking.”
“Well. I think I have all I need then,” she huffed, shakily getting to her feet. “You can drop me off before we go too far out to sea.”
“Too late for that,” Rachel mused. “You’re welcome to go anywhere you want; Cahira might be willing to entertain your ideas over some wine in her cabin—you seem like a wine woman—maybe it will take a few edges off you. I’m truly a-political; I only care for what I want—narcissistic to the core—go tell congress.”
“Hostages… I thought as much.”
She left without another word, having confirmed her bias.
Richard gave her a sad smile as she returned with Gisele, reaching forward and tentatively stroking her feathers. “There is a rather noisy faction of people that see demi as alien clones, seeking to dominate the world’s leadership.”
“I know. I just didn’t think so many in congress had taken to the conspiracy. Everything I said was true,” she added, retaking her seat and crossing her legs. “China is mobilizing, Russia is in a civil war and in a war with Ukraine for various reasons, and… I don’t care. I have my own problems.”
“Right…” Richard glanced at the bell on the table. “Really, Rachel… off the books—no recording; with total confidentiality—I wouldn’t insult your abilities—how are you? I know your response that you were fine was sarcasm, which the bell couldn’t catch.”
“Hehe. As perceptive as I remember,” she whispered, allowing Gisele to rub her head against her palm. “My mother was eaten by a creature more powerful than any god you can fathom, and her very existence was erased from almost everyone’s memory. Of course, I’m not fine… I’m out for blood, and I’ll stop at nothing to see her returned.”
Richard shivered at her cold expression. “Completely understandable… I can’t imagine you’re taking it well… and I assume that the reason for your earlier response was due to your father forgetting?”
Rachel bit the inside of her lip, nodding slowly; it was so different talking to a sincere person who truly wished to see if he could help her. “Yeah… It’s hard to think my father would change so much after forgetting my mother. It’s… almost unbelievable, but I can’t stop.
“Cuba, Hell… I’m not built like your typical person, Richard… fundamentally, I am not made for a human society anymore. I can go into these places without the same mental breaks others would receive—I don’t get tired or burn out… I’m focused and do what I must to achieve my goals.”
“Hmm. Yes—I have no doubt—but you’re not a robot,” he swallowed, shifting positions. “I heard one of the soldiers mention your kiss with Anthony and listened to a report on how you met at the FBI… I’m glad you’re not a robot.
“You’re still a teenage girl, despite all those powers, and I can see you have built a support system. My job is to make sure you are of a stable mind, and I can see you may have the soldier’s capability to detach yourself, yet you love your parents… deeply.”
He laughed, brushing off his discomfort with a sigh. “Although, my first impression of you was the degree you pined for your father’s affection was… quite unhealthy, but it seems that is someone that never truly existed by your story and reaction. Did I fabricate it?”
Rachel shrugged. “I can’t be sure how it works, but… you weren’t wrong. I had a skewed view of my family before becoming a lunar hare… Scarlet’s breakdown and my mother helped me realize how warped my perception was. Thank you for caring, Richard.”
“Mmh. I suppose that’s as much as I can hope for… You do live in a different world, Rachel, and, heh, no… I believe everything you’ve said.”
“Not into those conspiracy theories?” Rachel snickered. “Lizard people?”
“Well… there are some strange things… from Africa recently,” he mumbled, chuckling and scratching the back of his head.
“Haha! Crazy world?”
“Crazy world!”
Joking and allowing herself to take time to unwind and unpack everything in her life, only excluding the three more secretive topics, Rachel spent the hour with him.
She had to laugh at Cahira and Sheenie’s discussion as she did take the wine; the Pirate Queen just fed into her delusions, making a big tale about it, which only escalated when Selvaria got into the mix.
Teresa was all in it for the wine, and eventually, the drunk psychiatrist—Cahira’s wine was not typical stuff—made the mistake of drawing Selvaria into an evaluation.
The leviathan had the woman believing Rachel was a chocolate-making moon bunny with a plot to craft magical sweets that made people immortal using her special hammer; of course, the psychiatrist knew about the pestle and mortar myth of the moon bunny.
Selvaria had her mother bouncing off of her—totally ignorant about Rachel—and further adding fuel to the fire as Sheenie scribbled notes, getting the ‘true’ vision of Rachel and Mythic. She thought the leviathan was a dumb girl with some kind of mental condition that made her far easier to extract information from—joke was on her—Selvaria was a master storyteller.
Rachel was enjoying herself on the wall with Anthony, taking some alone time as the night went on, but Selvaria didn’t quit; she had Sheenie eating out of her hand.
Mythic was developing a secret underwater base that had a portal to the moon, where Rachel would get her ultimate weapon to smash planets in half; it was easy when she already believed they were hiding things, and Selvaria had her own personal designs all ready to show her, making the woman feel like a spy, taking pictures.
Anthony was laughing at Rachel explaining the whole scenario; she wanted to see how she presented it on the floor of congress.
Galatea was their ultimate weapon, a super seal that would become the destroyer of worlds once they’d obtained the secret seed on Mars; they had special contacts with certain corporations, preparing their next-gen rocket using chocolate mochi paste as fuel—it could also be eaten and was delicious.
Anthony was secretly a U.K. MI6 spy, swooning Rachel and trying to get the plans Selvaria had fashioned, but they were onto him; she could trust Sheenie because she was sent by the government, but they had been compromised.
Her boyfriend almost fell over, laughing at the connection.
It only got more insane as the night went on; eventually Sheenie passed out due to the wine, falling over herself to land on the floor. Selvaria was going to leave her, but her mother convinced her to take her to a bed.
Rachel couldn’t believe they’d selected someone like that to evaluate them; she hadn’t even gotten to Scarlet—who was terrified to even talk to Richard—but the world had become a scary place in the last two months, and some people just couldn’t adapt.
She doubted it would have gotten to this point had they done the interview sooner, but the woman had likely fallen into the paranoia trap over the last month from the insanity running its course through the world.
Everything she initially thought wasn’t all that implausible, which said something, and she’d heard of the rampant mind control problems; men and women abused their powers to get what they wanted, ruining lives.
Then there were the warlords, cults, religions, ideologies, celebrity influencers, philosophers, and academic purists in every country, screaming for people to believe their conspiracy or theory.
It was all noise to Rachel; of course, she was in the thick of what was actually happening. She dealt with reality, not the theoretical.
Days passed, and Tom called to let them know the next candidate for Alexa to pass on her Seed had been chosen from the Marine Corps and was on a vessel heading for France; her sister-in-law had almost forgotten she would die in only a few more days if she didn’t pass it on.
She’d been a bit preoccupied trying to escape Sheenie’s hounding eyes, wondering if she was using her cute, innocent appearance as an angel to mislead religious people and asking questions about angel voices when Alexa accidentally slipped up and told her.
Eventually, Sheenie had her chance with everyone; even Rachel couldn’t have foreseen the insanity that she’d convinced herself of in the end, and not everyone was trying to mess with her like Cahira or Selvaria.
Maria had her second-guessing herself the whole time, calling out her own lies and showing she was far better than the bell she’d brought, frustrating the woman to no end at her constant dialogue about how much she didn’t trust the system.
It was ironic because Rachel would have thought the two would agree on some things, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, and it ended with both parties thinking the other was a nut—one for not trusting the government to have your best interest in mind and the other believing only a particular side did.
Fiona was totally sincere with Nora and Erica—who were abused in the kitchen but handled it tactfully, as Rachel expected of a lawyer—but that only added to the story when they corroborated the story of a moon and underwater base; questioning the super-secret chocolate mochi only convinced her that she’d stumbled onto something big.
Rachel just enjoyed her time with Anthony; Richard was the true help for everyone, allowing each to voice their own troubles and concerns—she tried to give them their privacy, which wasn’t all that difficult when Anthony distracted her—he was good at it.
On the third day, she got her first live view of Paris, and Selvaria jumped overboard before shore to fill up on water to be prepared, bowing the sea as she expanded, slipping further beneath the waves.
Waiting on the docks for them was a smiling blonde-haired woman—Saint Jeanne d’Arc—who appeared to have been alerted to their coming.
Cahira was sleeping, leaving her first mate to dock since she’d been put on day duty with Nemesis, Mara, Maria, Melissa, and Anthony; her boyfriend being the leader—nepotism. Their new Mythickin wanted to be on the team that would be finding the leads involving her sister, and it was good to have a kaiju-class Myth on each team.
For her night crew, Rachel chose Fiona, Erica, Nora, Scarlet, Alexa, and Selvaria; she wanted her sister-in-law to be close and the Irish sisters should remain together with their nervous fox friend. Scarlet naturally followed wherever she went, and when it came to Selvaria, a kaiju tank was always a solid addition.
All their pets made for a good distraction in public and to handle annoying fodder, as well—Nia refused to be placed in that category—and Yseress was busy studying everything around them to learn the human culture of their planet.
At this point, Rachel didn’t have her Rabbit Gang, but their continual sacrifice each night had topped off her Lunar Pools over the last few days, and she was ready for a fight; she was ready for war.
Sheenie and Richard could handle themselves once they docked, and the woman believed she had all the evidence she needed to deliver a damning picture to congress; people saw what they wanted, and they’d selected someone that would parrot their ideas—Rachel couldn’t care less—she was just happy to have it over with.
Fiona carried them over the sea to meet the shining blonde woman, wearing a white and blue dress; however, when they landed in front of her, Jeanne’s gaze was on the choppy waves, showing a strained smile.
“Did… the leviathan have to transform?”
“Hmm? She’s not showing herself,” Fiona whispered. “Selv has to fill up on seawater every once in a while.”
“She’s… bigger than I remember seeing in the reports.”
An implosion made several people on the docks cry out with the churning sea as Selvaria reverted to her human form, speeding through the sea to shoot out with Galatea; landing beside them, she wore only her plate scales as clothing—expecting a fight, she didn’t want her good clothes to get ruined—she’d dress properly when she had time to chill with her mom in Paris.
“Did I miss anything?” Selvaria dully asked, glancing between them as she playfully swung her tail for Galatea to nibble on, trying to show her mother her new bite strength.
Rachel shook her head. “Nope. Mind giving us a tour?” she chimed, turning to Jeanne; before getting into the meat of their discussion, Rachel wanted to walk the streets to grasp the general conversations Paris was having—her translation ability she’d got in Cuba would come in handy.
“Haaa. Sure!” Jeanne grinned. “I hope your visit is more on the happy side… but I sense wherever you go, there is trouble.”
“Haha. You have no idea,” Rachel snickered with the others, following after her as the blonde led the way into Paris.