Fiona leaned back in her chair at the police station. “So it started snowing?”

  Caelan and Keira, both exhausted, groaned in unison.

  “Don’t get me fucking started on the snow,” Caelan said. “Eighteen fucking months.”

  “Or shit, let’s not talk about thunder season,” Keira added. “Like, why? A day or two, fine—but eighteen months? I hate that place.”

  Mark snorted. “Well, hope you’re not expecting anything different. It’s rained every day since I was born.”

  Fiona and Caelan laughed. Keira glared. “Shut up… wait—seriously?”

  “I thought I told you it rains all the time here,” Caelan said.

  “You say a lot of stuff, Captain,” Keira shot back.

  Fiona squinted. “Wait—where did the blankets and sofas come from?”

  Caelan shrugged. “Me and my sis thought we’d jazz the room up a bit. It was a bit boring in here.”

  Mark frowned. “Okay, so your stories make you sound strong, but how are you doing this? Honestly?”

  Caelan smiled. “That’s easy…”

  Before anyone could react, there was suddenly another man in the room, wearing one of their jackets. Mark and Fiona froze as Caelan and Keira turned their heads at the same time.

  “Hey, Sergeant,” they said together.

  The man—tall, messy, grinning—grabbed Caelan by the front of his jacket and hauled him half out of his chair. “Did that airhead mix again, or did we actually pull it off?”

  Caelan winked. “Well, duh. Do you think I’d have heard the end of it from the lieutenant if we didn’t at least end up on the leaderboard?”

  Takeshi started bouncing on the spot in pure excitement, and Caelan joined him. Keira leaned back in her chair for a beat, then muttered, “…shit,” and jumped up to join them, the three of them hopping around like kids at a Christmas party.

  Takeshi threw an arm around Keira’s shoulders. “You crazy little psychopaths, you actually pulled it off. Wait—how long did it go on for after that day?”

  Caelan and Keira both went quiet. Caelan sank back into his seat as Keira answered softly, “I think… around forty thousand years since that day. Turns out the war had plenty more to throw at us.”

  Takeshi calmed, resting a hand on Caelan’s shoulder. “Damn. Must’ve been hard on the survivors. But I’ve got one serious thing to ask.”

  Caelan looked up at him, already half-smiling. “In that forty thousand years—”

  Takeshi grabbed his jacket again and shook him. “Did you forget the plan?! I’ve been standing there for what, an hour now, and where do I find you two? Sitting here, messing around as usual! Just wait until I tell Lieutenant Solara.”

  Caelan laughed. “Yeah, totally forgot, aha.”

  “Chill, Sergeant, we’re getting important stuff done here,” Keira said, grinning.

  Takeshi spun on her. “Oh, of course. Because I remember the part of Operation Day Zero that involved you sitting, drinking hot chocolate.”

  Keira scoffed. “Jealous much.”

  Mark blinked. “Is this…?”

  Fiona, still seated across the table, tilted her head. “I wouldn’t mind checking if my handcuffs work on him.”

  “So like Solara,” Caelan muttered.

  “Jesus, last thing I need is another pencil pusher, bleh,” Keira said.

  Caelan gestured between them. “Yes, this is Takeshi you’ve heard about.”

  “Lovely to meet you,” Takeshi said brightly. Then to Caelan, “Now, Captain, can we, you know… get on with it?”

  “Fine, fine.” Caelan pushed himself to his feet. “Be back in a minute. Sis, can you—”

  “Oh, and some government fancy person is about one minute out,” Takeshi added.

  Caelan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Right. Sis, you deal with him. Standard lockdown still in effect—get him comfy. Right, let’s go.”

  Before he could move, Keira snagged the back of his jacket. “Snacks, please.”

  Caelan smirked, winking at her. “Back in a second.”

  In a flash—as they’d never been there at all—Caelan and Takeshi vanished.

  Keira stayed where she was for a moment, then shoved her hands into her pockets and sighed. “Man, I missed that idiot.”

  “Where did he go?” Mark asked.

  “So is that Mynxi girl actually a demon?” Fiona added.

  Keira exhaled slowly. “Right, let me speed-run some of this for you both, because if you asked him that, he’d still be talking when your grandkids were old and grey.” She folded her arms. “First—yes. She’s a demon. Red skin, pointy tail, horns, all that. But she is his daughter first and foremost.” Her eyes sharpened. “So I’d be very careful using that word around her favourite auntie.”

  Mark raised his hands. “She meant no offence by it. Please understand—this is a lot to take in.”

  “Aye, sorry,” Fiona said. “Didn’t mean anything by it. Was just wondering.”

  “Good.” Keira relaxed a little. “So. Basics. We do all this by moving at speeds close to the speed of light. Not all of us can hit the same numbers that the Captain and I can, but even the slow ones are faster than anything you can wrap your head around.”

  She jerked a thumb upwards. “Right now, he’s dropping Takeshi the materials for the construction of our new headquarters. We’ve spent more lifetimes than you can count drilling what we’d do when we finally came back victorious.”

  She pushed off the table. “Last thing—both of you, with me. We’ve got a guest coming, and I’m sure they’ll want to check on your condition. But one rule.” She fixed them both with a razor-edged look. “When I’m talking, you both shut the fuck up.”

  Then, just as fast, she bounced back to her usual sunshine and chaos, skipping toward the door. “Okay then, let’s gooo, wheeee.”

  Mark and Fiona followed her down the station corridor. Keira spun, walking backwards, hands still in her pockets. “So, any good video games, anime, or movies out recently? Honestly, I’ve got three brothers, and I need something to keep them busy. oh shit is there any new Elder Scrolls yet fuck!”

  Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… not my thing, really. Sorry.”

  “Something’s bugging me,” Fiona said dryly. “Why does someone who claims she can move at almost light-speed need a sniper rifle?”

  Keira grinned and pointed at her. “Great question. So—once we started upgrading our gear with emerald-tier scrap bars, we found a few… interesting effects. I upgraded the gun itself first—weight, durability, handling, all through the roof. But when we paired that with upgrading the bullets, too? They went from what, seven hundred metres per second, to something like twelve hundred. That opened up things I couldn’t do before.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure the Captain’ll talk your ears off about it later. He seems to like you two.”

  They reached the front desk. Keira nodded to it. “Right, you two stand there. I’ll go get our guest.”

  “It’s not too late,” Fiona said quietly. “We can still help you.”

  Keira laughed, already turning away. “That’s adorable. You keep thinking that. Now just stand back and watch—I’m about to go in hard and fast, motherfuckers.”

  She pushed through the station doors with her hands still in her pockets.

  The car park was flooded with police. Floodlights burned from every angle. A convoy of dark cars rolled up behind the police line. A helicopter thudded overhead. Streets were blocked off in every direction. Media crews clustered just behind the cordon, cameras and microphones raised.

  Keira just stood there in front of all of it, a massive grin on her face, hands still tucked in her pockets.

  A sharply dressed man approached the police line, adjusting his tie before raising a megaphone. “My name is Marcus Hale, I work for—”

  His sentence died as the megaphone vanished from his hand.

  Everyone blinked.

  Keira now held it.

  She lifted it casually, grinning like she owned the entire world. “Happenin’, fuckers! How are we all on this beautiful morning? I’m Keira Langston, Master Sergeant of the Revolutionary Army. Now, now—I know—”

  Marcus reached for a spare megaphone and lifted it. “Keira, is it? If I could just—”

  The megaphone crumpled in his hand like a drink can.

  Marcus froze.

  Keira had him by the shirt.

  No one saw her move.

  She leaned in close, whispering against his ear in a tone so calm it was ice-cold. “Interrupt me again while I’m introducing the world to a star, and I will remove you from my sight.”

  And before he could even register the threat, she was already back where she had started, standing in front of the station doors, megaphone in hand, as if she’d never moved at all.

  “Sorry about that!” she chirped, waving. “Now, you can call me Big Sis Keira if you want, but fair warning—” she winked directly at the nearest news camera “—don’t fall in love with me too hard. I’ve been known to break hearts. Oh! And like and subscribe to my podcast, where I’ll be doing weekly interviews and getting you the answers you all need. Join me every Tuesday night for the most surprising guests you could imagine. It’s called Keira Cast. Get it on your favourites!”

  Marcus stepped under the police tape as the commander hissed, “Sir, come back!”

  Keira finished with a flourish: “Peace out, bitches.”

  She let the megaphone fall, bouncing once on the pavement.

  Then—almost shockingly—she straightened, bowed politely, and met Marcus’s eyes with calm professionalism. “Marcus, is it? If you’d like to follow me, the Captain is awaiting your arrival.”

  “First,” Marcus said, steady and level, “release the officers.”

  Keira tilted her head. “I’m sorry—you seem to have this backwards. They’re not our hostages. They’re the only two we currently permit inside the station. But you have my word—no harm will come to you or your people.”

  Marcus considered her, then nodded. “Very well.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  As he approached, Keira leaned in just enough for only him to hear. “Quick note? Your positioning out there is awful. Really expected better.”

  Marcus didn’t break stride. “Shall we proceed?”

  Keira smiled innocently. “Let’s.”

  They walked back inside. Marcus approached Mark and Fiona, offering a polite nod. “Detective Sergeant Callen, DS McAllister—I’m Marcus Hale, with the NIRA. Well done managing what appears to be an unprecedented situation. Are you both unharmed?”

  Mark straightened. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. Only one injury so far. Other than that—”

  Fiona sighed. “Wouldn’t say ‘no harm.’ You haven’t had to listen to the guy for two hours.”

  Keira snorted. “Damn. Maybe there’s hope for you yet. He shouldn’t be too long.”

  Marcus blinked. “What do you mean, shouldn’t be too long?”

  “Oh,” Keira said breezily, waving toward the interrogation room. “He just popped out.”

  She gestured toward the door. “After you, ladies.”

  Marcus fell into step behind them. “What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here?”

  Keira shrugged. “I was instructed by the Captain to greet you. Nothing more. Ask him when he gets back.”

  The room fell silent as they entered.

  Marcus stopped dead, staring. “Interesting layout for an interrogation room. Sofas… pillows… blankets… is that a lava lamp?”

  Keira flopped onto the sofa and wrapped herself in a blanket. “Yeah. Wanted a bit more vibe. The place was too boring.”

  “They’ve been doing things like this all night,” Mark said.

  “Honestly, not the worst thing they’ve done,” Fiona added.

  Keira perked up. “Anyone a fan of hot chocolate?”

  The room trembled, just slightly.

  A moment later, Caelan walked in, shaking the cold off his coat, several shopping bags looped over his arm. “Bloody hell, it’s freezing up there. Right—sorry, didn’t know what everyone wanted, so I just got a selection. But fuck me, inflation’s wild—two pounds for a bag of doughnuts? What happened to the world?—Oh! Hey! You’re the fancy government wank they sent.”

  He stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caelan. Captain of the Revolutionary Army. And most recently? Seventh Immortal Emperor. Champion of the Immortal Emperor War.”

  Keira mumbled under her breath, fist pumping once, “Fuck yeah, preach it, sister.”

  Marcus opened his mouth. “Pleased to meet you, my name is Marcus—”

  Caelan set the shopping bags down on the table. Keira glanced up from her phone just long enough to murmur, “Oh, this’ll be good.”

  Caelan didn’t look up as he spoke. “Marcus Hale. Forty-two. 2009 to 2013, Police Scotland—Specialist Negotiator Unit. 2013 to 2016, MI5: Behavioural Analysis and Domestic Threat Unit. 2016 to 2019, Home Office: Counter Anomalous Incidents Pilot Team. 2019 to 2022, JTAC. And currently, National Incident Response Authority, Senior Liaison Director with UK Stratum 4 clearance. You bridge MI5, Police Scotland, MOD and COBR, reporting directly to the Cabinet Office. Happily married for twenty years… and don’t forget to pick up milk for the cereal in the morning. You’re out.”

  Silence dropped over the room.

  “Hope you haven’t done that to me,” Fiona muttered.

  Caelan flashed her a grin. “Of course not. But you might want to give your plants a bit more water.”

  “Stay out of my flat, you creep,” Fiona snapped.

  Mark rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just when I think it can’t get worse.”

  “You’re telling me,” Keira said. “You should’ve seen how she left her bed.”

  Fiona slumped. “Please stay out of my bedroom. I’ve been working a lot.”

  Marcus, notably, didn’t bristle. He just wrote, calmly, in his notebook, then closed it, removed his glasses and studied Caelan while he sprawled back on the sofa.

  “So, Captain—” Marcus began.

  Caelan lifted a finger. “One second. This has been a long time coming. Sis?”

  Keira turned to him, eyes wide and mock shy, placing a hand on his cheek. “Yes, big brother?”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time,” Caelan said solemnly.

  Keira inched closer, still playing it up. Fiona stared. “What the hell is happening?”

  “You can ask me anything,” Keira breathed. “You know I’ll never say no.”

  “Really?” Caelan asked.

  Keira tilted her head, lips puckering as she leaned in. “Anything.”

  Caelan closed his eyes and leaned toward her, too.

  They both burst out laughing.

  “Pass me the bag next to you, please,” Caelan wheezed.

  Keira fished in the nearest shopping bag and shoved it into his hands, still giggling. “God, the look on your faces. Worth it every time.”

  “Now this,” Caelan said, rummaging inside, “this is something I know I’m going to ram my tongue into.”

  He pulled out a glass bottle of Irn Bru like it was a holy relic. He held it up, voice dropping to an earnest murmur. “Hello, my beauty. Oh, the battles I’ve fought to know your sweet taste again.”

  “Are you saying you won that war for Irn Bru?” Mark asked.

  “Honestly,” Fiona said, “I can’t argue with that.”

  Caelan twisted the cap off. None of them even saw him drink. One blink later, the bottle sat empty on the table, and Caelan leaned back with a blissed-out sigh.

  “That,” he said, “is the good stuff.”

  Fiona eyed the empty bottle. “You got any more?”

  Caelan grinned. “Cleared the whole shelf. Oh—and I owe you like two hundred quid. Sorry. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

  “Great,” Fiona said, plucking the bottle from his hand. “On top of everything else, I won’t make rent. You’d better get that back to me.”

  On the sofa, Keira had crashed sideways into a pile of crisp packets, doom-scrolling TikTok. “Don’t worry,” she said around a mouthful. “That’s one thing, outside of fighting, he’s actually good at.”

  Caelan fished another bottle of Irn Bru out of one of the bags and handed it to Marcus. “Here. You look like you need it.”

  “Thank you,” Marcus said, accepting it. “What should I call you, sir?”

  Caelan was already sorting through bags, a packet of crisps hanging from his mouth. “Don’t really care. Captain, Caelan, Seventh… your call, bud.”

  Marcus crossed one leg over the other, set the Irn Bru down unopened, and took out a small voice recorder. He placed it neatly on the table, then opened his notebook again. “I hope you don’t mind if I record this, Captain.”

  “All good,” Caelan said. “I’ve been working on the assumption that I’ve been recorded the whole time anyway. So. What can we do for the British government? I’m a bit on the clock just now—need to pop out and handle something in about an hour. So, what’s up?”

  Marcus leaned back slightly. “Then I’ll keep it simple. Let’s start with this: why are you here?” He paused. “And I don’t mean the long version. I mean—what are your goals in this world?”

  Caelan’s eyes lit up. “I could start from the beginning again—”

  “No,” Keira, Mark, and Fiona all said in perfect unison.

  Marcus lifted a hand. “I’ve already got a transcript of everything you said before the station was cleared, Captain. While I was en route—after the black file was opened—we received a report from South Wales. A woman who had been confirmed dead, with multiple witnesses and video evidence, was admitted to the hospital with a clean bill of health and no memory of where she’d been for the last eighteen months. That lines up with what you’ve told us. At this moment, I’m likely the only person in the world who will actually believe what you say to me.” He clicked the recorder on. “So, again: why are you here—and what are your goals with this world?”

  Caelan whistled softly. “Huh. Wonder if I met her. Might pop down later—up for a trip, sis?”

  Keira, still scrolling, just stuck a thumbs up into the air without looking.

  “Anyway,” Caelan said, refocusing on Marcus. “Goals. You already know the general shape of it. Our new headquarters will be right here in Scotland. Earth—with or without me on it—now stands as the first and last line of defence for the entire universe.” He tilted his head. “But what you really want to know is whether I’m a threat to your current setup—or, more accurately, to the illusion of control you lot think you have.”

  Marcus nodded once. “Yes. We can start there. Or we could begin with what, exactly, you think you’re a line of defence against, Captain.”

  Caelan wagged a finger at him, tutting. “No, no, no. Spoilers. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. As for what I’ve got planned for Earth’s governments? Think of it this way: you’re lucky. You happen to be on the planet that ended up with the Revolutionary Army parked on it. That’s a double-edged blade.” He shrugged. “Nothing out there is going to cause us many problems unless it’s a proper piece of shit. If it is, you’ll hear about it. But the Lieutenant is going to expect a tidy house when she gets here, and I swear to fuck, I cannot handle another incident report. It’s always me. It’s never fair.”

  “Erm—hello?” Keira said, not looking up from her phone.

  “Sorry. Us,” Caelan corrected. He brightened. “So yeah. Honestly, nothing too dramatic as long as you lot aren’t abusing your power, throwing it around like you own the place. I’d rather fight a million Immortal Emperor Wars than be a politician for five minutes. Boring.”

  Marcus watched him carefully. “What gives you the authority to make those decisions?”

  “Christ, don’t start him,” Keira muttered.

  Caelan’s grin went sharp. “What I can do isn’t just strength. It’s Authority — that’s what the universe calls it. And, let’s be honest—” He spread his hands. “—I’m over a hundred thousand years old.” Watching you lot run around playing government is like watching kids play cops and robbers.

  Marcus nodded slowly, closing his notebook again. “I’ve never thought of it like that,” he admitted. “I suppose it might look that way through your eyes. This Revolutionary Army of yours—how large an organisation are we talking about?”

  Caelan, now half-buried in carrier bags, started handing out ice creams as if this were the world’s strangest staff meeting. Keira perked up. “Ooh, brownie one, please.”

  He lobbed one to Fiona, then glanced back at Marcus. “Forty-three of us.”

  Marcus blinked. “That’s not even a platoon. How do you expect to do all of that with your current numbers?”

  “Oh, that.” Caelan waved a hand. “Yeah, there are only five of us on Earth right now. Annoyingly, the system returns you to the world you were born on, so we’ve just gotta wait on the others getting here.”

  Marcus tilted his head, about to press. “And how—”

  A massive yawn from Mark almost broke his jaw. He slumped back in his chair, eyes half-closing.

  “Yo, Mark, bud,” Caelan said. “You can head up the road if you want. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Nah, it’s fine,” Mark said stubbornly. “I’m not leaving until Fiona does.”

  “She can go too,” Keira called.

  “Actually, Sarge, it’s all good,” Fiona said. “I’m getting overtime for this anyway. Free money, really.”

  Mark scrubbed his face. “Any chance you could do that thing for coffee?”

  Caelan propped his legs up and planted the soles of Keira’s boots on his knees. “Sis. Could you?”

  Keira sighed as the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “Right. Last time. Anyone else want anything? I’m not going again.”

  Fiona hesitated. “Erm… could you maybe grab me one of those hot chocolates?”

  Keira stepped close, resting a finger lightly against Fiona’s lips. “Shhh. Say no more. I knew not to give up hope on you being like our devil lieutenant.” She straightened, grinning. “Back in a jiffy.”

  The lights flickered.

  Keira vanished.

  Marcus went a shade paler. “How are you able to do that?”

  Caelan opened his mouth. “Oh, we—”

  “They’re fast,” Fiona cut in, folding her arms. “Almost light-speed fast. I know this one.”

  Everyone stared at her.

  Mark arched a brow. “Fiona, you want to sit on that side with them?”

  She shrugged. “What have they done, really? Broke Kyle’s hand. Kyle’s a dick anyway. Honestly, I feel more on edge working a Saturday night on the High Street than this.”

  “Oh, forgot to say,” Mark added. “We’re on tomorrow as well.”

  “If it’s just this, book me for double time,” Fiona said.

  Marcus cleared his throat. “Captain, I honestly believe this might go faster if we spoke one-on-one.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Caelan said. “Vibe over efficiency any day of the week.”

  The room lights shimmered again as Keira reappeared, arms loaded with several trays of coffee cups and takeaway bags. She dumped them on the table. “There. That’ll get us through. Marcus—don’t know what you drink, but you seem like the stick-up-your-arse tea type.”

  “Thank you very much, Master Sergeant,” Marcus said mildly. “So, Captain—if I may. What means do you have for bringing this… team together from across the universe? Can you teleport, or is it some other method?”

  Caelan sighed. “Fuck, I wish. I mean, I can fly through space, that’s not an issue.”

  Keira’s head snapped round. “Wait—we can?”

  Caelan’s grin went wide and evil. “No. We can’t. I can.”

  Keira shot him a death glare. “There were cool powers?”

  Caelan laughed. “Check this out.” He clicked his fingers.

  A sword appeared in the middle of the room.

  It wasn’t metal. It looked like condensed, living fog, edges humming faintly, suspended in midair.

  Keira sagged forward onto the table, lightly pounding it with her fist. “Damn, damn, damn. And does it have a cool name?”

  Caelan leaned in, whispering directly in her ear. “One Trillion Divine Blades.”

  Keira grabbed the back of her hair. “FUCK. Not once—not once—did you even hint there’d be superpowers on the table as well. Do over. Right now. We’re starting the war again. I want my damn power.”

  Caelan tipped his head and murmured something else in her ear. Whatever it was, she went from furious to lit up in seconds.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes… HELL yes,” Keira said, nodding hard. “Never let a girl down, do you!”

  Across the table, Marcus and Fiona had edged closer to the blade. Fiona reached out first, fingertips brushing the fog.

  She shivered. “That feels so weird. Like it’s there and not there.”

  “Do you really need to touch it?” Mark muttered.

  Marcus didn’t touch it. He just studied the weapon like it was the only thing in the world, eyes tracking every faint pulse and drift. “What is it, exactly?”

  Caelan shrugged. “No idea. Some mad thing. All I know is how to make them and control them.” He snapped his fingers again.

  The fog sword dissolved into nothing. Caelan turned back to Marcus, stretching his shoulders like he was about to start a completely normal conversation instead of having just conjured a literal fog sword out of thin air. “But yeah, to answer your question—no, I can’t teleport. But we do have a kickass starship. So we’ll just use that.”

  Marcus blinked once. “And… where is this starship?”

  Keira sat upright again. “Buh—buh—buh—one second.” She jabbed a finger at Marcus, then swivelled toward Caelan. “When did we get that?”

  Caelan winked. “She made it for us. And let’s just say I pulled a few strings and found the one person who can round everyone up in a flash.”

  Keira’s eyes narrowed. “Staff Sergeant Falkal?”

  “Emm… well, he already has access to ships,” Caelan hedged. “So next option was—well…”

  Keira slumped back. “I’m never going to get to fly it before she gets here. Is she a beast?”

  “No idea,” Caelan admitted. “All I know is apparently it’s the culmination of all scientific advancement across the universe. But honestly? If it doesn’t have a pool—what’s the point?”

  Keira snapped her fingers. “Right! Finally, someone who gets it.”

  Marcus folded his hands. “And in the meantime… if whatever you claim is coming actually arrives—how do you intend to handle the matter?”

  Caelan shrugged as the question bored him. “Jesus, we don’t need all of us. As long as one of us two is here—” he pointed between himself and Keira “—you’re pretty chill.”

  Marcus’s expression twitched. “What of the other Immortal Emperors? If another appears, are we in danger?”

  Caelan tilted his head. “Erm, not really, no. That whole light show thing earlier? That was our way of telling one another where we are — and a sort of stay-the-fuck-out-of-my-garden warning. Our only real danger is… well, probably Aria…”

  “Your girlfriend,” Keira grumbled under her breath.

  “Shut up. What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t be shy,” Keira teased. “You never know when someone could be watching.”

  Caelan narrowed his eyes. “Thought you were eliminated.”

  Keira winked. “You’ll never know. But that answers that.”

  Caelan ignored her and finished, “Aria is the most powerful ally of the Revolutionary Army. So don’t worry. That’s about it. And you lucky boy—” he wiggled his finger toward Marcus “—get this smoking hot piece of sexy all to yourselves for now.”

  Marcus, completely unfazed, reopened his folder. “What else can you tell me about this Revolutionary Army of yours, then?”

  Caelan cracked his knuckles. “Smashing. Right, let’s see… oh! Fact. I’ll start four years after we were founded—”

  Keira, already half horizontal on the sofa, slid her earphones in and threw her feet across Caelan’s lap. “Yeeehhh wooow.”

  Caelan sighed. “Well, I’m surprised she lasted this long. Right—off we go…”