The palace of Lord Magnus
8:46 am, the next day
Wanda led the way into the palace, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, taking in all the smells of the royal grounds. Scott and Emma came in behind her, arm-in-arm with each other. Scott smiled at her. She smiled back. They kissed. Behind the happy couple came Crystal, trying her best to avoid Pietro. Straight behind her was Lorna, not looking happy in the slightest, and trailing behind the green-haired princess was Alex, trying to make it seem like he actually wanted to catch up with her. Bright-eyed Gabriel was next, smiling widely at whatever servants he passed.

In the back of the group, trudging slowly along, was Prince Pietro. He looked as if he had literally been to hell and back, which was not far from the truth. He begrudgingly began a trip up the large, ornate marble staircase when he came up to it.

Magda and Jean stood under a large archway that led from the foyer into one of the dining rooms. Magda’s hair was down, lightly touching her shoulders. She wore a red dress with a black coat of the same length. Jean’s elbow-length hair was also down, and the emerald necklace she wore perfectly matched her bright eyes.

“They must have had some trip,” commented the queen.

“Indeed,” said Jean, who still had not mentioned the fact that she knew about Daniel Matthews. “Some trip.”
Several floors below…
Agent Mortimer Toynbee of the Red Guard paced back and forth, keeping half and eye on the palace’s one and only prisoner, the terrorist Pogrom. As he walked, he whistled to himself a tune he had made up, which often changed based on his level of boredom.
Then he heard a faint rumbling noise.

“Finally,” said Cordelia Frost from her cell.

“What’s that?” he asked her.
“Oh nothing,” she said. “You got kids, Toynbee?”
“No,” he answered.
“Too bad,” she lamented. “That would’ve made this next part a lot more fun…”
“What the hell are you talking abo-”
And that’s when Mortimer Toynbee died. There was a loud crash, followed by a spectacular stream of light flooding the previously dark hallway. The pile of dead flesh that had been a living, breathing human being only moments ago was now kicked out of the way by one of the Black Queen’s disciples.

Several figures stood in the fresh new hole that had just been created in the wall.

“How go things here, Pogrom?” asked the biggest one, dressed all in a sort of brown armor.

“Not bad, Juggernaut,” Cordelia answered with a smile. “But it took you long enough.” She took a deep breath, and stepped out of her cell as Juggernaut ripped off the door. She felt the power dampener she had been on start to ware off, and she began to feel in great detail the emotions of those around her, even elsewhere in the palace.

“We should be going,” said one of Pogrom’s associates.”Good,” she said, “we’ll give the Lensherrs some time to themselves. ‘Cause next time we’re here…they’ll finally get what’s coming to them.”


By Laudo