“…and even the most hateful and vile among us can find refuge in the arms of Eizavoba, in the arms of our Queen!”

  Groans and curses echoed across the crisp valley as dozens of screens set up hours earlier showed Gusa’s evening broadcast. Guerrillas sat within heated tents and stood beneath the clear sky to deride the tyrant whose head they wanted to crush. The magical fog continued to hang over the largely-open area, glowing slightly from its interaction with the phosphorescent plant life throughout the verdant park. Soldiers of the Sguvan military on the hills surrounding the park fruitlessly observed the opaque fog for any sign of entry or exit from the guerilla's massive camp.

  “Our misguided brothers and sisters loom at the edge of our great city with murder in their hearts. A dense fog shrouds their presence, but we know that they number in the thousands with weapons given to them by their foreign collaborators. Their hatred for our God-Queen has blinded them all to the possibility of peace.”

  More audible anger erupted through the crowd. The loudness was great enough to cause the tents and vehicles to shake.

  “However, we cannot have peace without speaking to our current adversaries. They must be involved every step of the way for these talks to have any meaning. That is why I am extending an offer to those calling themselves the “True Twins Gospel” and their associates, The Red Wolves Company; join us within the Ewada, the very place that I am speaking to you from now. Allow the Holy State of Sguvi to send a neutral party within the fog tomorrow morning to escort your chosen representative to the heart of the capital. Allow RED-1 in its entirety to accompany your representative. They may even come armed.”

  Thousands of guerrillas bellowed the chants, "Kill the tyrant! Kill the tyrant!" and "No rulers, no Queen!" after Gusa made his plea. Wadaw raised a flap of the entrance to the elders' tent to witness the passion that flowed through the entire region. He'd only dreamed of such a sight, but he'd worked hard for decades to bring that dream into reality.

  Gusa raised his long, stringy arms, then leaned down and stared into the camera with a maniacal smile. "Let tomorrow be the beginning of a new era, an era in which the people of our great nation once again walk lockstep in harmony!" His previously calm voice turned as firey as the look in his eyes before the broadcast abruptly ended.

  "What does the secret message within the broadcast tell us?" An elder asked Kitra, who sat at a small desk close to the paper-thin screen that hung upon the center of the back wall of the tent. She'd already transcribed and decoded the seemingly random flickers of the Ewada's giant crystal, the same crystal that Gusa always stood in front of to deliver his speeches. A member of Gusa's camera crew discretely used their equipment to create minute glints of light to reflect off of the crystal. The member, an agent of the True Twins Gospel, used the method to share intel from Gusa's inner circle, including from Gusa's own Council of Elders.

  “Message reads, “No sign of the Queen here. Council not happy but believes the peace talks are real. Diplomats are safe but isolated. Gusa is unreadable.” Kitra said in a clear, loud voice so that everyone in the large tent could hear her. She put down her black pen and placed it quietly beside the paper she’d been writing on.

  The members of RED-1 looked at RED-2, who in turn looked at the women of RED-4, who’d only just finished their work on the unknown domed equipment. Wadaw and Mela watched the elders sitting at a round, wooden table at the center of the tent, hunched over and murmuring to each other. Though the wall tent made of lightweight canvas was large and well-furnished, it had become warm and slightly muggy from having over a dozen people within it.

  The elders sat up in their seats and began to speak so that the others in the tent could hear them. “Hear those chants?” said one of the female elders. “Our people are openly denying the offer.”

  “If the Queen isn’t directly involved, then victory against Gusa’s forces is still possible,” said the muscular elder.

  Another of the five elders nodded and said, “We finally have the numbers to launch a successful siege against Zazi. We should seize upon this opportunity.”

  “Sounds to me like you all have already agreed to fight.” Ruz said from across the tent. The spite in his voice was unmistakable.

  “Just like earlier…you old fucks are so eager to throw the lives of your people away, even when peace is on the table,” said Cril. He was referring to the altercation his team had had with the elders during Prism’s near-collapse; the elders’ complete refusal to even entertain the idea of peace had nearly turned RED-2 against the Gospel’s cause.

  “Watch your tone! They’ve been fighting to liberate our people since before you were born. Show some respect!” Kitra shouted at Ruz and Cril.

  “The elders are right. This is our best shot at taking Gusa and his government down.” Mela, demure and respectful, said while barely raising her voice. She stood beside Wadaw near the entrance to the tent, which was guarded by four broad-shouldered, well-armed guerrillas.

  “We’ve prepped the m-domes and made sure the other Conjunction weapons are operational, but that ship we saw could crush everything in this park just by flying nearby,” said Qisyit. She stood behind Lyubi and massaged the dirty-faced yet still-beautiful woman’s shoulders. “We can’t even be sure that our weapons will have any effect on the airship.”

  “My guess would be “no.” Its mirror-like surface would likely reflect any considerable amount of electromagnetic energy we direct at it.” Lyubi said before sighing in relief at the amazing job her lover was doing on her shoulders and back.

  The muscular elder slammed his fist down on the table in front of him. “If the Queen had wanted us all dead, she would have sent her androids and plasma soldiers after us decades ago!” The man yelled. He stood up to continue his yelling but closed his mouth when he saw the eldest among them raise her small, wrinkled hand up at him. He gritted his teeth and sat back down.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “If we were to accept the Queen’s offer,” the ancient-looking lady said in a calm, raspy voice, “then who would speak for us? Who would speak for the hundreds of thousands of truth-tellers and freedom fighters that call themselves believers of the True Twins Gospel?”

  With barely a second passing, Wadaw stepped forward towards the elders and placed his hand on his chest. “I will,” he said. He looked healthy and alert; it was a far cry from the way he looked hours earlier.

  “Opportunistic freak…” Srell shared telepathically with RED-1 and RED-2. Ruz and Cril laughed aloud.

  "And will you be able to persuade those gathered here within this valley of this "possibility" of peace? The eldest asked Wadaw. The tent did little to quiet the chants that continued to fill the guerilla's camp. The valley, one of the many valleys that surrounded Zazi, acted as an amplifier for the rebellious sounds.

  "Probably not," Wadaw said with a smirk, "but I can convince them to delay their attack for a day or two."

  Wadaw saw Kitra's gaze fixed on him and he felt Mela's eyes on his back. He winked at Kitra, making the woman narrow her eyes at him before she winked back. "Years of work within the organization was about to pay off," they both thought at the same time.

  "Then prove it," said the oldest lady in the valley.

  The elder, who they would later learn was over 100 years old, pointed her hand at the tent's entry flap. Wadaw took the hint and walked out. He was soon followed by everyone else who'd been in the tent. Wadaw was helped up onto the top of the tall soldier transport that had brought RED-2 and Kitra into the camp. He could nearly see the entire camp from atop the vehicle, and they could see him. He was handed a microphone by a guerilla as a camera roundrone began filming and broadcasting his image to all the screens still set up across the glowing valley. Most of the crowd stopped chanting when they saw Wadaw's well-known face. He was a living legend within their organization, and he was about to use that reputation for all it was worth.

  "Such passion! This is what I love about our cause; it gives us energy. It makes us strong!"

  Wadaw's statement combined with his handsome smile immediately charmed his audience. They all began shouting happily into the night. When he began talking again, they lowered their voices so that they could hear his every word.

  "I've never seen this many of us in one place. It is truly a miracle that has brought us together tonight. The Twins are smiling down upon us, their faithful children."

  Wadaw bowed his head for a moment of silent prayer, and the rest of the guerrillas did the same. When they raised their heads and opened their eyes, Wadaw saw a strange glowing figure making its way through the crowd several hundred meters in front of him. The iridescence that surrounded the figure distorted Wadaw's view of it. By augmenting his eyes with the nanites in his body, Wadaw was able to see that it was Prism.

  The alien's skin glowed like a vibrant aurora that stretched several inches off of his skin. The shifting aura of colors trailed behind Prism while he walked. Ursun and Leanna accompanied him, both armed with their PAWs as the two mercenaries pushed the crowd back to make a path for Prism. To add even more splendor to the moment, ?ba's moons began to rise above the hills behind Prism, Ursun, and Leanna. Prism looked more cool and confident than Wadaw had ever seen him. Some of the guerrillas who witnessed the scene fell to their knees and started praying more fervently than they ever had.

  "Eiza, the Warrior, blesses us in our battle against our oppressors. He helps out bullets hit their targets, he helps our hearts stay committed no matter what challenges we face." Wadaw raised his right hand up at the red moon, directing the others around him to look up at it. After a few minutes, ?ba's blue moon appeared below its red one. "But Voba is our Sage. She tempers our passions and grants us reason. She allows us to think clearly about our circumstances, and to plan for better days.”

  Wadaw paused his speech to stare up at the rising moons. He dropped the microphone to his side and watched the Twins slowly ascend for a minute until he felt the crowd grow restless. He then jerked the microphone up to his mouth and yelled, “Eiza!” He shot his arm out at the red moon, then at the blue moon, then yelled, “Voba!” He repeated the action again and again until the crowd began shouting the same chant. They swayed back and forth until they were in a trance that heightened their moon worship to euphoric heights.

  “Do you feel that!?” Wadaw yelled into the microphone. “That is the Twins working in unison! That is martial might combined with mental mastery!“

  Prism, still walking towards Wadaw, looked around at the guerrillas that flanked his path. Their arms were raised towards the moons as they chanted slack-jawed in a state of complete exaltation. Their mindless behavior entertained Prism. His own mood was elevated by his body’s renewed ability to metabolize the region’s rich mana.

  “I want to beat Gusa at his own game. I want to sit across from him and humiliate him in front of his own sycophants. I want to call his bluff when he claims to want “peace” from us. I want to show him what that “peace” really costs! Then, when he is truly defeated, will we nail him to the rack and let him experience some of the many tortures that Eizavoba-made-flesh suffered millennia ago!”

  Wadaw’s speech took many of his people out of their trance and brought them back into the waking realm of thought, anger, and anxiety. There were critical looks shot up at him, but there were even more who were on the precipice of cheering him on again.

  “Not the most convincing argument…” Lorias shared as he leaned against the troop transport and listened to the speech.

  “He’s nearly there,” shared Ursun. “Many of his compatriots want to believe him. He just needs to sell this just a bit more.”

  “Allow me.” Prism shared. He floated into the air in an arc until he’d passed over dozens of meters of scruffy True Twins. He landed noiselessly behind Wadaw, who then leaned his back against Prism’s. They stood like mirror images of each other, unified in their goals and their fierce demeanors.

  “We have the magic of the very stars on our side.” Wadaw spoke into the microphone with a hint of seductiveness. “But even the stars have demands.” Wadaw looked back at Prism and saw the smirk on the alien’s dark-featured face.

  The fog that hung in the air began to shimmer until streams of auroras danced across its upper levels. Prism’s irises took on the same color-shifting appearance as the light show. “If there can be a future without bloodshed, let us all move towards it, even if the path is lined with thorns. Spare the city of Zazi your rage for a day. Give Wadaw a chance to face your enemies in a battle of wits before you face them in a battle of blood. I will continue to shelter this valley even while I protect Wadaw in the depths of Zazi.” Prism made his voice come from the transparent fog that surrounded each of the guerrillas.

  “And if this chance at peace is a trap, then let me be the one to show the tyrant that we all have nothing to fear! Let me be the one to turn his trap into a tribulation he will surely not forget!” Wadaw’s sermonic delivery convinced the crowd to begin shouting his name again. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes to fully receive the support of the thousands of allies all around him.

  "This feels more like a concert than an improvised speech! Hell, I feel amped too!" Srell shared. He jumped around in a small circle until he was bouncing off of some guerrillas who joined him in his rowdiness.

  “Sounds like Wadaw's convinced your people to delay their attack.” Ruz said to Kitra. The two of them stood side-by-side within the circle that had formed around the vehicle Prism and Wadaw stood on top of.

  Music began to play in scattered pockets across the park, played on both traditional and more contemporary Sguvan instruments. The True Twins weren't unified on what they were celebrating but they knew that there was something exciting to look forward to in the days to come. Witnessing Prism's powers and feeling his voice touch their bodies gave many of the guerrillas a deeply spiritual experience. Some even believed that they were in the company of divinity itself.

  “Of course he did.” Kitra said with a flick of her braids. "We've been planning this power grab for a long time. Out with the old, in with the new. This country needs clearer eyes than what those fundamentalist elders can see with. They have no vision for the future, only the past," she thought to herself. She looked back up at Wadaw as he started dancing with Prism in a strange turn of events. Kitra felt triumphant in the face of so much positivity on what was supposed to be the eve of all-out war. She smiled like she hadn't done in a long time.

  “…with Prism’s help.” Mela whispered in to Kitra’s ear.

  “Yes, yes…the alien continues to prove his worth.” Kitra rolled her eyes and waved Mela’s head away from her own. Kitra yelped when Mela took her by the hand and began to dance with her. Mela twirled Kitra around and saw the warrior woman's tough demeanor soften in her arms.

  The elders looked on in quiet resignation as the crowd roared.