Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty-four. Not a Demon, rather a Saint.

Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty-four. Not a Demon, rather a Saint.

"What are you doing with Bob?" Bailli had placed a hand on Jessica's shoulder, holding her back as the group broke up for the evening.

"I like him, and I'm trying to get him used to the idea that affection isn't abhorent," Jessica replied.

Bailli shook her head. She had spent a lot of time with Bob, although not as much recently, and she felt she knew him pretty well. To be candid, Jessica was almost as beautiful, although their personalities deferred wildly.

She knew that Bob was barely equipped to handle friendships, let alone what Jessica was pushing for.

"Bob isn't interested in romantic relationships," Bailli growled, "and you shouldn't be pressuring him."

Jessica tried to pull away, but failed against Bailli's greater strength. "He just needs someone to show him that he deserves affection," Jessica protested. "He's too good of a guy to just let drift away."

"That man barely accepts friendships," Bailli hissed. "Stars and stones, it took a year for him to call anyone on Thayland a friend. He's not ready for what you're offering, and I don't like the way you're pushing yourself on him."

"Look," Jessica offered, giving up on trying to get away, "Earth has had a lot more time to workout the bits of the human psyche. Giving him a gentle nudge is a good thing."

"You had him rubbing oil all over your nearly naked body!" Bailli replied.

She'd been hesitant to wear the 'bikini' that Amanda had insisted was modest. Bailli hadn't been sure exactly what it would be considered modest in comparison to, until she'd seen the string and patches of cloth that both Amanda and Jessica had worn.

"I think that might be a cultural difference, yeah?" Jessica sounded unsure. "Most of the time I don't even wear a top at the beach," she continued. "Asking him to rub some lotion on my back isn't a big deal, not on Earth. I mean, I wouldn't ask some bloke I didn't know to do it, but mates are fine."

"You're flirting with him," Bailli growled. "You're making him uncomfortable, and I won't have it. If he won't stick up for himself, I'll do it for him."

"If he wanted me to stop, he'd say so," Jessica replied. "He's not helpless, and he doesn't need anyone to protect him," she laughed. "If the King is back on Thayland, Bob is the single most powerful person on this planet."

"Powerful is not the same thing as stable," Bailli shook her head. "Strength is all well and good, but even strength can be brittle. I won't betray his confidence, but I've seen just how fragile he is. Stop toying with him."

"And what if I don't?" Jessica said rebeliously.

"Then I'll stick you in a cage and keep you there until the integration is over," Bailli said with a smirk. "This was me being kind because Bob sees you as a friend."

With that, she released Jessica, and took a step back, crossing her arms under her chest.

"Fine," Jessica grumbled, "I'll tone it down. But," she continued, "I'm not giving up on him."

"You wouldn't deserve his friendship if you did," Bailli replied.

Carol-Ann took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. This was it.

She wiped her palms on her slacks. A young man wearing a headset cocked his head to the side, listening to an unseen voice, and the beckoned her over.

"Let's get you in position, you'll be on in a minute," he told her, leading her up the stage, directing her to stand behind a curtain. Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

She was doing this not just for the world, but for Harv, she reminded herself. He didn't deserve to be remembered for his curse. He was gentle, patient, kind, and giving.

The seconds ticked by, and then she heard the host calling her name.

She stepped out from behind the curtain, blinking under the bright lights that bathed the stage as she walked over and shook the host's hand.

He gestured for to take a seat across from him, smiling warmly.

"Carol-Ann, is it all right if I call you Carol-Ann?" He asked engagingly.

"That's fantastic, I know I'll be begging for one," Stephen's smile slipped a bit. "My niece has leukemia. I guess that raises the question though, how are you going to distribute it?"

"Giving credit where credit is due," Carol-Ann forced herself not to grimace, "Harv had met with Pfizer earlier, and was still working with them at the time of the incident with Johnson and Johnson. I'm happy to announce that Pfizer has agreed to distribute the cure, charging only distribution costs, which for those of us in the states, will be mere pennies."

"That is fantastic news," Stephen's smile was back. "How many doses are available, if you're able to tell me?"

"We've produced over a million doses already, and we expect to be able to produce a million more over the next week," Carol-Ann replied. "Harv has been working tirelessly to streamline and perfect the process, while teaching others, and arranging for donations from others to help fund the project."

She took another deep breath. "That's pretty much why I came here tonight, Stephen. The media has maligned my friend, and I wanted to set the record straight. Harv isn't a demon, he's a saint."

Elizabeth squeezed Phillips hand.

"Your Majesty," Peirs Morgan began, "you look remarkably well, as does his Highness, and I can assure our viewers that it is not the result of the BBC's excellent make-up artists."

"We've both undergone a reincarnation ritual," she replied with a smile. "Although our time was near, we couldn't abandon our people when such troubling times lie ahead."

"The American President announced to the world that we are facing, and I believe this to be without the bombast normally attributed to American politics, the apocalypse. I understand that you've begun taking steps to shelter us from the storm?"

Elizabeth smiled. Peirs had always been a friend of the crown, and more than that, as honest of a journalist as one could ask for. "We have," she agreed. "While the our American cousins have made their arrangements, so have we. A haven for England and her territories has been established. We have been working tirelessly to ensure that none of our citizens are left behind."

"I understand that your work has been of the rather more physical sort," Peirs observed, "could you tell us a little about that?"

Elizabeth nodded, and stood, drawing her greatsword from her inventory, and planting it front of her. With a though, she summoned Porro, the horse sized Corgi making the stage rather crowded. "With our great-grandfather's blade, we have battled monsters, striving to obtain the power needed to protect our nation," she said firmly. "With Porro at our side, we have fought through an endless sea of monsters, knowing that each blow struck, and each blow taken, brought us one step closer to our goals."

"I believe we have a video, taken by your security detail," Peirs said, triggering a video that played on the screen in front of them.

The video had been vetted and approved, and showed her at the peak of tier five, leading her pack of battle corgi's against a swarm of lava-bears.

Elizabeth watched as she threw herself at the enemy, blade flashing in the light of the molten stone, blow raining down on the monsters as shrugged off not only their strikes, but even their molten breath. Her corgis harried the beasts, snapping at them, keeping them distracted while she worked through the group. The video froze, the final frame showing her standing proudly, leveling her blade at the next group of monsters as her corgis gathered beside her.

"Honestly, I'm surprised your security detail weren't right beside you," Peirs said.

"They were nearby, ready to step in if necessary," Elizabeth allowed, "however they were under strict instructions not to interfere otherwise. When the time comes, we will stand as a bulwark for our people, and our strength must be proven in battle."

"I understand that you will be issuing a decree this evening?" Peirs asked, following the agreed upon flow of the interview.

"We will be calling on our citizens, asking that any who would seek to stand with us against the oncoming trials step forward," she agreed.

"What about our military?" Peirs asked, "isn't that their job?"

"The King of Greenwold is a kind and generous leader, one we are most pleased to call a friend. He is not, however, a fool. Our military, along with all others that seek refuge, will be stood down and placed into stasis, along with our citizens who will not, or cannot, fight monsters. His goal is to save as many people as possible, but inviting foreign armies, which vastly outnumber his own forces, onto his soil, is something he will not allow. We cannot fault him in this, especially considering the fractious nature of our world," Elizabeth finished with a smile.

"So what are you looking for in terms of volunteers?" Peirs asked.

"Men and women who are willing to battle monsters," she replied simply. "I would urge anyone considering accepting our call to consider that fighting monsters is deadly. We've suffered from terrible wounds, even losing an arm, although the Church of the Light has the power to regrow limbs."

"The American President mentioned the Church of the Light as well," Peirs noted. "If they are going to be the ones tending to the injured, what can you tell us about them?"

"The first thing to understand is that in this other world, their is an entire pantheon of dieties, all of whom offer real, palpable power." She smiled wryly. "You needn't take anything on faith, as the miracles are codified. The Church of the Light is comprised of seven deities, each representing one of the seven cardinal virtues, over seen by Vi'Raida, the God of Light." She shook her head. "Theocratical semantics aside, as soon as they were made aware of Earth's existence and the disaster approaching, the entire Church immediately offered its aid."

"I'm well known for avoiding religious debate, so I'll leave that be," Piers grinned widely. "I'd be remiss if I didn't ask for clarification on this whole levels and tiers bit."

Elizabeth smiled as she nodded, and got down to the business of informing her country of the new reality they'd be laboring under.