-Jim Rohn

"I do not believe you should accompany them, Father," Sophia warned, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "No proper parent would ever lead their children into battle without them knowing what it is they face or where they will be doing battle."

"Moira isn't a parent, and… I really need to learn more about your culture later, but right now I have to deal with this. I know you don't like Moira - either of you, actually. Frankly, I'm getting pretty tired of her shit myself, but I made a promise, and she's helped me more than you know. We've both saved each other's lives, and I think she still knows that somewhere down inside. Until she brings it back to the surface, I'm going to tolerate her."

John eyed the two of them, aware that those were certainly not inspiring words to send anyone into battle with, much less a woman he loved and the strange pseudo-offspring he'd most recently brought into this world.

"But I already told you both - that decision is mine, and I won't make it for anyone else. If you want, you can stay here - or I can send you back to the private world to wait."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Seras interjected forcefully, though John had already figured as much. Though she had never fought beside Moira directly, Seras had already gone up against the Cabal to rescue him, and she seemed inseparable from John since the moment that he had first Purified her.

"Neither am I. But I will not risk my life to save hers, Father… only yours." Sophia's was more surprising, but her harsh morals seemed flexible at least enough to allow her to fight for the same cause as someone she didn't respect or like. Even if it meant letting them die at the first opportunity.

John wished, more and more often lately, that having a semi-literal harem of women around him was a bit more like an eroge. They always seemed to get along so well in those. At least until one of them turned out to be a yandere and…

John shook the image of Sophia bloodily murdering Moira out of his head the instant that it appeared, doing his best to look grateful. "Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a relief to have you both by my side. I don't know what we're going to go up against, but with the Order, the Moon Clan, and the Forgotten Legion united alongside us three, I think we can handle it."

"Better to think we cannot and be prepared for the enemies we would be facing then."

"I… okay, but preparation time kind of got thrown out the window," John sighed, shaking his head. "When we get back, though, we're going dungeon diving. With enough luck and dead Dwarves at our feet, we should be able to build you a set of armor… and maybe figure out what makes good ammunition for Seras. I think I'll probably end up on a list if I just go and clear out every store of ammunition every few days."

"Well, got enough for a few 'undred Cabal 'ere. Think that's enough?" Seras asked rhetorically, patting the pouch of ammo at her hip.

"It'll do… for now. C'mon, let's go see what they're doing outside."

What they were doing was apparently waiting on John and his creations. They must have both already made their necessary calls or messages, because the two were very pointedly staring at the doorway, not talking to or looking at each other. John got the distinct impression from the demeanor of both that that was very much to prevent an outbreak of ****. John began to wonder if his and Tricia's strained relationship with Moira as allies of the Order was at all out of the ordinary for her and her allies outside of the immediate Order.

Sophia and Seras strode out behind him, taking either flank and seeming almost friendly to each other in the way they behaved, both standing equidistant from John and each other, alert and even turning their backs slightly to each other. Perhaps having a common pair of enemies between the two of them had forged something akin to the bond Moira and Julia now shared.

"Glad to see you're bringing some backup," Moira called out as John and his companions descended the steps and entered the yard. "You might give the Cabal more of a fight this time."

"If I recall correctly, I was-" John bit his tongue as he recalled Moira's anger at having been questioned in front of Julia only moments earlier. Part of him still wanted to finish and remind Moira that he'd been under the Order's protection when he was attacked three out of four times now. He didn't feel like holding back for her sake, but he couldn't justify weakening their alliance before a critical operation, if only for the safety of himself and his friends.

"If I recall correctly, Seras slaughtered most of a Cabal regiment herself, and we took out an Officer together without any aid. That was also before I- before I was as strong as I am now, and before I had the equipment I do now." John winced at nearly using the words "level up" to describe his abilities - while that wasn't the part of his powers that Moira said was so shocking, John still didn't want to give away too much of what he could do.

"You do seem to have quite the cluster of magical trinkets… has no one taught you the value of quality over quantity, John Newman?" Julia smirked, eyeing the two necklaces John was now wearing. John fought the urge to paw at them, grimacing over the accusation.

"Well, not all of us command an entire organization. I've made most of what I use. If it's not up to your standards… well, that sounds like a whole lot of 'not my problem'."

John waited, eyeing Julia closely for her reaction. A quirked eyebrow was followed by a slight frown, even surprise… then laughter. Unrelenting chuckles as she covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head in seeming disbelief.

"You really are entertaining, John Newman. Thank you for that."

John wasn't entirely sure whether he was being complimented or insulted, in that she only ever seemed amused by his attempts to stand up to her. He was just beginning to lean toward insulted when a set of cars approached, identical limousines that parked just in front of the Order safe house. From the center of the five, a single man emerged, clad in what appeared to be a full tuxedo. The man gave a loose bow and nodded his head toward the group.

"Lady Julianna, we are gathered and ready. The Order are not far behind."

"Wonderful. I will accompany my men to the rendezvous… Lady Brighton, I trust your soldiers and the Moon clan will uphold your duties?"

"We will give our lives in the name of the righteous and just, if need be, Lady watch over us all."

"Alea iacta est."

With that, Julia joined the suited man and stepped inside of the vehicle. The long line of limousines departed soon after, Moira staring after them until they had at last disappeared among the sparsely populated homes and foliage of the outskirts of Springfield.

"Moira… who exactly are they? The Forgotten Legion, I mean. That was Latin, right?"

"They are Romans," Moira said simply. "Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that they were, once. They were separated long ago - almost two-thousand years now - though it is rumored it was not by choice. Over the course of nearly two millennia, their leadership and ways have changed so much that they are scarcely recognizable as what I am sure they once were, but that could be said of any surviving members of a millennia-old civilization. The Order is not what it was fifty years ago; to think that any civilization could survive, untouched, for centuries… that would be true insanity. Most of what we know beyond that is mere rumor and speculation, I'm afraid. They have long been isolated, and they've clung to their old ideals to the point of hostility in an arguably vain attempt to hold on to what they consider their heritage."

"Like slavery?"

Moira grimaced, one hand absently travelling to the Golden Rose insignia over her chest. "That is… among one of their worst traits, yes. But their transgressions are something we are attempting to ignore for the time being. What we know of their history is not ideal, but even the worst interpretations would be far better than the Cabal, and leagues ahead of the Albidian Society's corruptions."

"Alright, well if you can't tell me much about the Forgotten Legion, can you tell me now what we're about to get into?" Moira shifted her eyes toward John at his return to questioning orders, but they were focused in the distance as she spoke.

"Of course," Moira half-whispered, eyes narrowing. "We're about to make our first offensive strike in a war, John Newman. We strike at the Cabal's manufacturing strongholds… and here come the legions."

John turned, eyes widening as what could've easily been mistaken for a SWAT raid swarmed down the streets. Order ATVs and unmarked vans of various colors stretched from only a few feet down from the driveway into the distance, until after two-dozen cars John lost sight of the end of the line.

"We still aren't entirely certain whether the Cabal struck this war to antagonize us, to seek an unknown goal, or because they caught wind of you, John Newman," Moira explained as she casually strolled toward the lead car, "but whatever the answer is, hurting their income is the surest way to strike at their heart. A glorified organized crime syndicate falls quickly when one cuts loose the purse strings. I will inform you of all the details on the way - the only reasons I did not prior will be made clear. Come, John Newman. No surprises this time. No Albidian interference. Today you will know war… and you will know victory."