“I’m calm now, Viktor. You can let go of me.” Damian said.

  “You are not calm. I can feel you tensing to sprint back and continue fighting vith reporters.” Viktor deadpanned back.

  “They started it!”

  “Da, but that was still no excuse to do that vith chair.”

  Arushi interrupted, her brow twitching, “You both acted like children. Viktor, don’t think you are getting away with your nonsense either. Your poor sister will not recover socially from that for years to come.”

  “It vasn’t that bad.” Viktor turned his head away, acting innocent.

  “As a little sister to two very annoying older brothers, yes it was” Arushi deadpanned at him.

  Arushi rubbed her brow. It was a simple interview, mostly softball questions. Besides the man who broke protocol to taunt Damian with a provocative question, the event went smoothly, for the first twenty minutes. The sponsored questions went fine, nothing surprising there. If you ever watched a post-game interview for any sport you could guess the questions asked. The problem came when the last ten minutes were opened up to questions about anything the reporters could think of. The first few, while personal in nature, were acceptable and answered with good humor, or in Viktor’s case overly cliché soliloquies.

  It was the following questions which primed Damian for, what she could now hear the soldiers calling, the chair against physics and biology incident. The start was the obvious question; how did he lose the arm? While surly about it, Damian’s answer was civil. The follow ups that implied incompetence and lack of intelligence wore on his patience. Why, of all outlets, the gossip rags were let in to the interview, only the top brass could answer. One of them decided it was a good idea to bring up his family. When Damian’s glare landed on the man, every other reporter around him backed away, creating a five-foot perimeter around the man. They all saw the podcaster from earlier being taken to a medical tent, none of them wanted to be caught in the crossfire.

  The fool didn’t even notice, and barreled through his attempt to find some kind of dirt he could sell. He implied everything from negligence to the family hating Damian for not going to protect them, revealing, to an already on edge Damian, that someone had attempted to harass his family. When one of the reporters who backed away from the man clarified, that he was the one doing the harassment, Damian leapt over the table at the mudslinger of a reporter. The screams and abuse of physics and biology would forever haunt all in attendance.

  Damian just crossed his arms and looked away, “I am not apologizing. He deserved it.”

  When Viktor nodded in agreement, Arushi threw up her hands and screamed in frustration. “That’s not the point and you both know it. Public opinion matters, and now they have seen that Damian is on a hair trigger and reacts with violence when provoked. We need them to trust us, or did you forget your own plans, Damian?”

  Damian at least had the good grace to look sheepish. Viktor had a confused look on his face, but spoke up in his friend’s defense. “I’m not sure vhat plan you are talking about, but it’s not as bad as you think. Sure, Damian reacted violently, but he had recently lost arm, and foolish man brought up family. It comes off as traumatized man reacting to perceived threat, if media angle is properly managed anyway. Vhat vas plan you mentioned?”

  Damian and Arushi had a quick, silent conversation, before deciding to bring Viktor in on their possible conspiracy about the governors. Viktor listened quietly and only asked for clarification when absolutely necessary. When they finished, Viktor was silent for a few seconds longer.

  “I see.” Viktor began, “I still believe things are fine, incident shows Damian is human and reacts like one. I have friends I saw in crowd, I vill speak to them after, and have them spin things to our favor. As for other problems, I vill consider and speak vith trusted people. Do not worry friends, things vill vork out for the best!”

  Viktor got up and went to find his friends, leaving Damian and Arushi behind. Arushi shook her head at Damian, still exasperated, but her tone softened when she next spoke. “What is your plan for now? Do you want me to accompany you back home? Losing an arm will be a large adjustment and you might need the support.”

  Damian gave a soft, fond smile, “No, I’ll be fine. Go see your family and prepare for the market coming up. We have a month left, so you are always welcome to visit. I will wait for Viktor to contact me with plans for my new arm, and look into a few ways to customize it for my purposes.”

  Damian stood up and was met with a quick hug from Arushi, which he returned. “Take care of yourself, and I will take you up on your offer to visit. I enjoyed getting to know you, so don’t think you can ghost me mister. You are stuck with me, so give me your COSMOS number, I’ll be in touch.”

  Damian laughed and gave her his number. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’d just track me down and kick my ass anyway.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” Arushi giggled, then turned and left to find transport back home.

  Damian watched her leave for a second, before turning to go find Viktor. Damian weaved his way through the milling crowd, searching for his large friend. He wasn’t hard to find; Damian just had to follow his booming voice. He found Viktor entertaining a group of reporters, Damian took a breath to brace for more social interaction. Hopefully this time he wouldn’t shove a chair where it doesn’t belong the hard way. Given the lack of metal folding chairs, odds were in his favor.

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  He didn’t stay long, just passed his number to his new friend and bid goodbye. Viktor grabbed Damian in a bone crushing bear hug, and said he would design him a new arm as quickly as possible. Only the mention of maybe needing a new spine got the big man to let go with an embarrassed apology. Damian just laughed it off and went to talk to a soldier about who could get him a flight home, as well as pass along some dragon meat to the soldiers he accidently injured.

  The flight home would have been peaceful, if he didn’t get a call from his sister half way through. She spent half the call, admonishing him for his behavior and the other half in hysterics over his arm. Damian could do little to calm her down and was only saved from his sister’s crying threats by his brother-in-law’s timely intervention. The call ended with her ordering Damian to find them a home as she was moving her family near him. After all, she couldn’t trust him not to get into any more trouble without her supervision.

  When they touched down at the airport, a vehicle was already waiting for him. It was a short car ride before he was back home. Once again Ulf was waiting for him, but Big Lu was nowhere to be seen. Ulf let him know that Big Lu hadn’t returned from his current portal dive yet, and dragged Damian off to a bar that had quickly become the Einherjar’s favorite. Upon entering they were greeted with cheers and toasts by the many warriors partying away the day. The staff, though harried by the pace the Viking’s drank at, were in good cheer, joking and flirting with the patrons as they worked.

  Damian found a horn of rum shoved into his hand, and a placement at the head of table. Calls for him to share his tale of conquest and bravery echoed through the building. Overwhelmed, Damian wasn’t sure what to do, until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  Brynhildr looked at him with care as she said, “If it bothers you, you can ignore this lot. None shall think less of you for needing time to process.”

  Damian, gave her a grateful look, “Thanks, but maybe drinking and letting it out is what I need.” He turned to the gathered Einherjar and began his tale, “So, there we were, stuck in a bar, with no time for a proper drink before we had to depart……”

  Damian regaled the crowd with his tale. The Einherjar were a wonderful audience, reacting at the appropriate times with exaggerated reactions and light teasing. When he finished, Damian was hoisted into the air to chants and cheers, the Vikings thrilled with his tale of heroism. Plenty begged for a chance to eat dragon meat, and Damian, well into his cups by this point, passed some along to the bar staff to take to the kitchen. The atmosphere and impromptu feast pulled in people from off the street. By the time morning would come around, Damian’s tale would be all over the city.

  Damian only managed to extricate himself from the party after a few hours entertaining overenthusiastic Vikings. He stumbled along the roads as he wandered without direction from one area to another. Damian eventually found his way to a bar with only a few older patrons, all staring deeply into their drinks as if they held all the answers to their problems. Something about the place pulled Damian in, and he found himself sitting at the bar counter nursing a whiskey. The place smelled of cigar smoke and regret, the scents lingering in the air disturbing Damian’s sinuses. The bar tender made his rounds, stopping occasionally to speak to a patron. For those in this bar he was the closest thing to a therapist they would ever meet with.

  The familiar voice of Colonel Johnson, brought him out of his stupor, “Penny for your thoughts son?”

  Damian turned to the older man, surprised to find him here. “Didn’t see you there, Colonel. What brings you here in the middle of the night?”

  The Colonel shrugged and sipped his drink, “Old memories, get to be my age and you’ll understand. Now, don’t avoid my question, son. You’ve been staring at that drink of yours like it can make sense of the universe. Your loss of arm bothering you that much?”

  Damian’s grip tightened on his glass for a second, before he relaxed and sighed. “Partly, I know there wasn’t much I could have done different, and no one died in the process. It’s more that I feel……. I don’t know exactly.”

  “You feel that with all your abilities and advantages, that you should have been able to get away without losing your arm. That you weren’t good enough then, and now with a handicap, you will have more situations where you aren’t good enough.” Colonel Johnson said.

  “Yes, that is it exactly. Am I just overthinking things and obsessing over nothing?” Damian asked.

  “Yup.” Colonel Johnson answered with a sip of his drink.

  “Not exactly the response I was expecting at this point.” Damian said, stunned.

  “I ain’t a therapist, son. You lost an arm and that sucks. You maybe could have done something different and kept the damn thing, but you are stuck with the present. No amount of moping will help with that so don’t allow yourself to start. You got access to some fancy magic bullshit, find a fix and jump back in to the fray. Take it from an old soldier, son, dwelling will only make things worse, find a goal that you can always work towards and let it help focus you.” The Colonel replied.

  Damian laughed, “That is horrible advice, don’t quit your day job Colonel.”

  The Colonel smirked at him, “Don’t plan to. If I let some other bastard run this place, it would fall inside a week.”

  The two spent an hour, just shooting the shit and joking around. The Colonel proved to be a rather down-to-Earth man, with a dislike for inefficiency. After a bit of contemplation Damian decided to take a chance.

  “Hey, old man. I think there is something I could use your help with.”

  “What do you need, son?” The Colonel raised an eyebrow at Damian.

  Damian filled Colonel Johnson in on the governor situation. The Colonel waited patiently for Damian to finish, only chiming in occasionally for clarification. Damian even decided to share his theory about Ludwik being manipulated, along with Catherine’s thoughts on potential system involvement.

  When Damian finished, the older man ordered two more drinks and then turned to his younger companion. “Well, that ain’t ideal but I’ve dealt with worse situations. I doubt it will be too bad; you can be considered responsible for saving a lot of lives. What, with recruiting the Einherjar and passing out knowledge about those runes of yours. Plus, you’re not a complete asshole or a nightmare to work with, so most of the rank and file will side with you should it come down to it. I have a few friends that made it into high command that I can trust, and will pass this along to them. Thanks for telling me, son, I won’t let down the trust you’ve put in me.”

  Damian clapped the older man on the shoulder, “You’re good people, Colonel. While I have you here, what’s the plan to deal with the kaiju fight the final portal will be?”

  The Colonel spat out his drink, “The fucking what!?”