The Vanguard's safe house buzzed with anticipation. The team had gathered around a table, a collection of makeshift maps and tactical notes spread before them. Their next mission was supposed to be a straightforward raid on a Midlands Confederacy munitions depot.
At least, that was the plan until Swift Angel stood, his golden wings casting sharp shadows across the room.
"We're not raiding the depot," he announced, his voice calm but unyielding.
The room fell silent.
Dark Ant raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain, boss?"
Swift Angel's grey eyes swept across the team, his expression resolute. "We've been fighting one battle at a time, putting out fires while the world burns around us. That ends today. We're done reacting. It's time to take control."
Fantasia leaned forward, her glowing blue skin catching the light. "Take control of what, exactly?"
"The United Kingdom," Angel said, his voice carrying the weight of his decision. "We reunite this country. Then we rebuild it. And from there, we set the example for the rest of the world."
Shadowleaf's emerald eyes narrowed. "You mean conquer it."
Angel met her gaze without flinching. "If that's what it takes."
Gentle Illusionist smirked, leaning back in her chair. "And here I thought you were the moral one."
"It's not about morality," Angel replied, his tone firm. "It's about survival. The only way to stop the chaos is to create order. Real order. And that means uniting the UK under one banner—ours."
World-Shaman took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke in lazy spirals. "Bold move, Angel. I'm guessing you've got a plan?"
Angel nodded. "We start with the Midlands. If we can take Birmingham and secure its resources, we'll have the foundation we need to expand. From there, we push north to Manchester and south to London. One step at a time."
Fantasia tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "And the people? How do you expect them to react to us showing up as their new rulers?"
"They'll understand when they see what we're offering," Angel said. "Stability. Protection. A future."
As the group debated the logistics of Angel's plan, Shadowleaf and Gentle Illusionist sat on opposite ends of the table, their glares sharp enough to cut glass.
"I still don't understand why you're even here," Shadowleaf said, her voice dripping with disdain. "We're supposed to trust someone who spent years manipulating people and working for a terrorist group?"
Gentle Illusionist's smirk didn't waver. "Oh, don't be jealous, Shadowleaf. It's not my fault I'm better at getting what I want."
Shadowleaf's fingers twitched, her shadow magic crackling faintly. "Careful, Illusionist. You might think you can charm your way out of anything, but that won't save you from me."
Before the Gentle Illusionist could retort, Fantasia interjected, her tone genuinely curious. "Why don't you both just share him?"
Both women froze, turning to stare at Fantasia with identical expressions of shock and fury.
"Excuse me?" Shadowleaf hissed.
Fantasia blinked, clearly confused by their reaction. "It seems logical. You're both clearly attracted to him, and monogamy is such an outdated concept. Why not—"
"Fantasia," the Gentle Illusionist said, her voice low and dangerous, "stop talking."
Fantasia raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Just a suggestion."
World-Shaman, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, chuckled softly. "Glad to know I'm such a popular topic."
The tension was still thick when Swift Angel spoke again, his voice cutting through the room like steel. "Enough. We don't have time for this. The mission is clear: we take Birmingham. Everyone needs to focus."
Shadowleaf crossed her arms, her gaze still smouldering. "Fine. But this isn't over."
Gentle Illusionist smiled sweetly, her tone deceptively calm. "Looking forward to it."
Angel sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can we please act like professionals for once?"
As The Vanguard geared up for their mission, the cracks in their unity were impossible to ignore. Swift Angel led the charge, his determination unwavering, but even he couldn't ignore the tension simmering beneath the surface.
Shadowleaf moved silently, her shadow magic coiling around her like a living thing. Gentle Illusionist lingered near the back, her every word laced with subtle barbs. Fantasia observed it all with a detached curiosity, while World-Shaman watched with the bemused air of someone who had seen it all before.
Dark Ant summed it up best as they boarded the convoy. "We're either going to change the world," he muttered, "or kill each other trying."