After a few hours of work, Sergeant Elwood and the remains of my squad are lined up in shallow graves. The sun is just starting to rise on the horizon, illuminating the ruined city in some warmer light. With the coming morning, it’s tempting to consider the last several hours just a wild dream, but I know better than that.

  I stand in front of the graves, preparing to give an impromptu eulogy. Arthur is my only audience, not that he would have any investment in the lives of anyone here. Still, he stands silently off to the side, his head bowed in respectful reverence.

  I clear my throat and begin. “To be honest, I didn’t know many of the soldiers that died here today all that well. Like myself, most of them joined with the coming of the Wizards, hoping to save people, or get revenge, or whatever else they might’ve wanted. Either way, we all worked together, trained together, and fought together for a greater good.”

  “Some of them might not agree with the path I’m taking now—Elwood let me know his feelings, anyways. But I really think I can do some good this way, and I’ll make sure that all their deaths weren’t in vain. I don’t know what comes next after we die, but I hope it’s something nice, for their sakes. You rest well, everybody—I’ll keep on fighting for now.”

  I choke up on the last sentences, and I wipe away some stray tears. I want to hold it together for Arthur, but even so I never thought I would have this kind of reaction to a situation like this.

  Arthur approaches and puts his hand in mine. “Well spoken, Sir Lindon.” he says somberly. The two of us stand in silence for a few minutes, letting the feeling wash over us.

  Afterwards, I take a deep breath to recenter myself. “Alright, let's figure out our next steps.” I turn to Arthur and say “So, where to next? You have some kind of way to find out where the Wizards are?”

  Arthur shakes his head. “I simply go in the direction my instincts take me. “

  I stare blankly at Arthur. “So…you’ve just been walking in random directions?”

  “I suppose you could say that.”

  “How long were you walking alone before you got here?”

  Arthur thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm…about a week, I think?”

  “Come on, you’re joking. You walked for a week straight? What did you have to eat and drink?”

  “I am not joking, and I made sure to prepare before my journey.” Arthur pulls off a small backpack from under his cape that I hadn’t noticed before. He opens it up to reveal it’s filled with about a dozen Uncrustables-brand PB&J sandwiches, several packs of Skittles, and two half-empty bottles of chocolate milk.

  Frankly, I’m not sure why I expected anything different.

  I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fine, whatever. Look, you don’t have to travel like that anymore. Now that I’m here, I can help you get places quicker, and get you some real food.”

  I gesture over to the transport that we’d flipped over earlier. “We can take that thing back to the bunker and regroup with the army. With their help, we can find Wizards anywhere in the world and get there within a day! We could be taking them out by the dozens if we get things rolling!’

  Arthur wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know about that,” he says tentatively, “I’m still hesitant to trust the military with our mission. I fear they may complicate things.”

  “I mean, that much is a given. But think about all we could do if we worked together! Let’s at least give it a shot, alright?”

  Arthur thinks it over with crossed arms, then sighs. “Alright, we’ll give it a try.”

  “That’s the spirit!” I pat him on the shoulders in encouragement. “Now, first we’ve gotta try and get back in touch with home base. There’s probably a radio in the transport, wait here.”

  I climb into the transport, a massive armored car with a turret on top, and examine the driver’s seat. I don’t have the clearance to drive one of these bad boys, and to be honest, it’s kind of a thrill to be doing this at all. After examining the complex control panel, I find the radio and turn it to the frequency of the home base.

  “Come in, home base,” I say into the radio, “This is Private Murphy Lindon of strike team Whiskey Echo Niner. I have a critical status report, do you copy?”

  Nothing but static in response. I repeat my message several more times, growing more desperate with each one. Eventually, a voice crackles out of the radio: “This is home base, receiving you loud and clear. Where is your commanding officer?”

  I stumble over my words as I’m caught off-guard. “Oh! W-well, he’s been killed, along with my entire team. I’m the only one left.”

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  “Really?” the operator says with suspicion in his voice, “so the mission was a failure?”

  “Well, not exactly…”

  I describe the events of the last several hours: our team’s helplessness against Zane’s power, Arthur’s arrival and subsequent defeat of Zane, and our later fight against the trio of minor Wizards.

  “I believe this boy, Arthur, is the key to countering the power of the Wizards. Upon returning to the bunker, I propose we work with him in future operations and help him develop his abilities further. Over.”

  There is silence over the radio for several agonizing seconds. Finally, the operator responds: “And you believe all of this is true?”

  “I don’t just believe, sir—I know it is. I’ve seen everything I’ve described to you with my own eyes. I would stake my rank on it.”

  “Uh-huh. And you’re sure this wasn’t a hallucination of some sort? Perhaps induced by stress or trauma?”

  “...are you calling me a liar?”

  “I’m simply having a hard time believing the story you’ve told me. A boy with a glowing toy sword who’s able to kill Wizards? Sounds like something out of a fairy tale.”

  I’m starting to get ticked off at this point. “Is that really so hard to believe right now? We live in a world run by Wizards turning entire countries into living forests and glowing moons, is that less like a ‘fairy tale’ to you? You can’t just dismiss something like this out of hand.”

  Before the operator can respond, there’s some muted voices in the background; it sounds like the operator is speaking with someone off-radio. He then says “Please stand by, Private Lindon, I’ll get back to you shortly. Over and out.” The line then goes dead.

  Welp, I blew it. I’ll probably be dismissed with prejudice if I’m lucky—and if I’m not, they might hunt me down for colluding with a Wizard. I sigh and sink back into my seat, preparing for the worst.

  I look outside at Arthur, who’s practicing his sword swings with the trash can lid he used earlier as a shield. Maybe he was right—this whole plan to work with the Military might have been a bad idea from the start.

  All of a sudden, the radio flares to life again. There’s a different voice on the radio now, this one gruff and old-sounding. “Private Lindon, are you still there?”

  I bolt up in my seat and respond. “Y-yes! Who am I speaking to now?”

  “This is General Harold Rath speaking. If you don’t mind, could you repeat what you’ve told the operator here? And be specific, if you please.”

  Shit, this is big. General Rath is the current top general of the army—or what’s left of it, at least. He’s the only one who’s been able to gain any sort of ground on the Wizard threat, and he was hand-picked by the president to command the counterattack. The fact that he’s speaking to a foot soldier like me means this is a huge deal.

  I stammer out my story one more time, and General Rath listens carefully. Once I’m finished, he says “Hmm…this is all very interesting, Private. Are you confident in these assertions about this boy and his power?”

  “As I said earlier, sir, I would stake my rank on it.” I do my best to keep my voice level when speaking, but it’s harder knowing how much could be riding on this interaction.

  “Alright, I believe you,” General Rath says, surprisingly blasé, “If you can make your way back to home base, we can regroup and devise a plan based around this ‘Arthur’ and his abilities, as well as that magic book you’ve got.”

  “Wait, really?” I reply, incredulous, “I mean, thank you, sir, but what about Chicago? It’s Wizard-free now, so we could set up another base of operations here with the infrastructure…”

  “Murphy,” Rath interrupted, “Do you know how many of the other strike teams returned from their missions successfully?”

  “Er…gosh, I don’t know, maybe two or three?”

  “Zero. You’re the only one who succeeded. Lost contact with all the others.”

  A pit forms in my stomach as Rath’s words sink in. “That…that can’t be—”

  “Oh, but it is. We can’t send anyone to establish a base camp in Chicago because we don’t have anyone left to send. All our forces are being used to defend the last bunkers, and we’re still stretched thin.”

  General Rath sighs a deep, tired sigh. “The truth is, soldier, we’re fighting a losing war, and have been since the beginning. It’s high time we changed our strategy—and that new strategy may entail using some of this ‘magic’ for ourselves. Principles be damned, we’ve got to survive, whatever it takes.”

  A wave of relief washes over me. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that, sir. I promise, you won’t regret this decision one bit.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. Is your armored vehicle working, Private Lindon?”

  “I believe it is, sir. And there should be enough gas in the tank for a few hundred miles.”

  “Very good. We’ll send you the coordinates for the base, so do your best to make your way in that direction in the transport. We’ll do our best to keep an eye on you, but you will most likely be on your own for most of this.”

  “That’s more than alright sir. We won’t let you down.”

  Rath chuckles. “I know you won’t, soldier. Over and out.” With that, the line goes dead.

  I hop out the transport with a skip in my step. “Good news, Arthur! We’ve got the go-ahead to return to base.”

  Arthur stops practicing and puts his sword away. “I see. Let’s leave now, I'd like to get back to my quest as soon as possible.”

  “Good thinking. Let’s hit the road.” I climb in the driver’s seat, and Arthur goes around and climbs into the passenger’s seat. He sits in the oversized chair and buckles his seatbelt; this transport wasn’t exactly designed for children, so his legs don’t even reach the floor. He uses the space underneath the dashboard to store his sword, his backpack, and his newly-acquired trash can lid.

  “You’re keeping that thing with you?” I inquire.

  “Indeed. It is a fine shield, worthy of my prowess. I shall call it Aegis.”

  I chuckle. “It sure is, Kid. Good find.”

  I then flip down the sun visor to reveal the keys of the transport. I turn the key in the ignition, and the engine thankfully starts without any issue. Looks like luck is finally on our side.

  With a lurch, we start driving along the path Dobrik made for us out of the city, into the rising morning sun and the bright future ahead.