Archive of Our Own

Philza has been assigned to take down the three vigilantes for 4 months now, and he’s had no luck in the matter.

It’s not that Philza isn’t trying. He’s a top hero; he always puts his best effort into every mission. Even the dumber ones.

But these vigilantes aren’t being destructive or causing any problems. If anything, they’re just helping.

Allay helps the most physically with his healing abilities, a rare, useful power even with all the magic in the world. He’ll heal civilians, criminals and, rare, the occasional villain.

Avon is helpful in taking down even the most slippery villain with just a voice, literally. Voice control is no joke, Phil has sadly been on the other side of the effect. Thanks to his own son, but it’s nothing a strong will can’t fight, and Phil means strong. But Avon still helps people, just more manipulates them to get them help or to not be stupid.

Alastor is the most hands on. He doesn’t usually talk and would much rather fight and intimidate those opposing him. Or puppet them. No one really knows how he does that, but he does. Phil had an idea that it’s some type of blood bending. But he’s not sure and he’s thankful not to be on the receiving end of that puppeteering.

They are all so helpful.

More helpful than Philza, in his opinion. Sure he’s a ‘top hero’, but apparently that just means more “popularity” things to do. Commercials; paparazzi; meet and greets; conferences with stupid, fucking companies. It’s a mess and not what Phil signed up for when he became a hero.

But he can’t leave. He signed a contract. Allowing the Essempii to monitor his powers. They claimed it was because it’d let them expand on his abilities and help him grow stronger, but Philza knows better. It gives them control over him. He can’t leave the heroes that easily, even if the Essempii is a fucking shit show.

Hell the only reason the heroes want them gone is so they stop taking the heroes jobs. They won’t say that of course but it’s true. Phil’s heard them himself. Of course he couldn't tell anyone about it, still stung. The media believes that it’s because the vigilantes endanger those around them, and while that’s somewhat true. They do much more than the heroes in cleaning up the messes. Phil tries his best but usually he gets pulled away to another incident, before he can check on the people.

It fucking sucks.

So Phil works, even if that means he can’t give his sons as much care and attention as he wants. The least he can do is discourage them from becoming heroes themselves. It’s something they talked about a lot despite Phil’s warnings. But now those warnings seem to be working since the past two months have been free of hero talk. It hurts that Phil had to do that, but it’s necessary.

He hopes to do the same thing with the vigilantes. Being a vigilante or a superhero comes with serious consequences and he doesn’t want anyone to have to deal with that.

(Besides him that is.)

Hopefully he can convince them to use their powers in other ways. They can still do good without putting themselves in danger.

So yes, Phil is trying his best to capture the vigilantes: Avon, Alastor, and Allay. But he’s definitely not doing it the way the organization wants him to.

And the vigilantes are helping. Don’t get Phil wrong, some of their methods are questionable—both from a logical standpoint and a moral standpoint—but it fucking works. Better than any of the Essempii’s methods, that's for sure.

So he’s trying more “fatherly” methods to halt their risky escapade.

It’s not going the best, but Philza’s got a lot on his plate as Aspen.

*************

Phil had barely gotten to the office before he got a call about a robbery on Pogotopia way. Phil didn’t even get to finish his black coffee—which he doesn’t like but after pulling a night shift and a day shift he needed the caffeine. Hell, he didn’t even get to sweeten the shit out of the drink before he forcefully chugged it and got suited up.

His black skin tight suit was annoying to get into, as was his plague mask but he managed.

He left around 8 am on Saturday.

************

Thankfully it didn’t take Phil long to get to Pogtopia way. He landed right next to the bank: Car’von. It was definitely a shady place, more rundown than the banks closer to the capital. Its security has always been shifty and unreliable. Not to mention the poor and homeless who frequented the area, hoping to snatch few notes that so they can finally buy a fucking hot meal. Sadly the poorer areas had a very high mob rate, which taxed the impoverished population. Philza hated them but there was nothing he could do. Nothing the Essempii would have let him do, anyway.

He noted the police barricades surrounding the front and the flashing red and blue lights of their cars. The chief brought the megaphone to his mouth, slightly moving his white mustache before making an announcement to the villain.

“Daydream, release your hostage, and come out with your hands up.”

A young lady's voice answered them. “Fuck no, not until the nether star is given to me.”

Of fucking course, it was always the nether star. The nether star was a powerful magical item that was rumored to be the remains of the last creature that tried to fight the gods. Phil didn’t believe it, personally, but it does make for an interesting story.

Daydream was rumored to be related to Nightmare, a top villain, mostly because they both used the strange smiley face mask and green colored outfits. Phil’s pretty sure the rumors are right, since both of them always demand the same thing. Daydream is supposedly a lot tricker to deal with than her brother because of her illusion powers. Guess she really made daydreams turn into nightmares huh?

Phil walked around the building, finding the back door pretty easily and picking it open almost easier. Light footsteps joined him as he walked into the gritty halls of the bank, where rubble from the last attack still lay on the floor. They really never cleaned up, did they?

“I go right, you go left?” Phil asked his companion, sparing a glance back. Allay just nodded, the red raccoon mask blocking his face from Phil, but not hiding the nerves that he obviously has. His steps had a slight jitter to them even though he’s almost silent. Phil wasn’t planning on taking him into custody during a hostage situation, but he understood the vigilante’s nervousness at being close to him. Some heroes weren’t nice about vigilantes helping them. Phil, personally, appreciated it.

He walked quietly into the main bank lobby, footsteps never making a sound, not even a feather brushing the floor as they walked. He turned right as they entered, crouching so as to not be seen by anyone, and spared just a glance to see Allay go left as planned. His red hoodie and black pants were a blur as he ducked behind the greenery, out of sight.

Satisfied that Allay could handle things on his own, Phil got close to a group of hostages, hidden behind some decor. Thankfully none of them were tied up, so he flared his wings carefully, gathering the group's attention, and hopefully no one else’s. A few sighed silently in relief Philza quickly hushed them and gestured them over.

As they crept towards Phil, Daydream reiterated her demands, holding an innocent hostage in her arms. He didn’t want to risk the possibility that it was an illusion and a trap, so he ignored the hostage and focused on the group following him. They moved in quick go and stops, advancing only when some noise, such as Daydream and the police negotiating, covered their footsteps.

“The nether star and all the money in the bank and then I’ll let everyone go.”

Phil led the group to the converging point, meeting up with Allay’s group. Unfortunately, not everyone was trained in stealth as Philza. A misplaced foot, slipping on some rubble, and a yelp and suddenly Daydream was holding her gun in the direction of the fleeing group, her arm still wrapped around her hostage’s neck.

“Don’t move.”

Phil stood up anyway, slowly, and lowered his wings, hiding some of the hostages from view. “Mate, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Stand down.”

Allay started to move, ready to pounce. The hostages were frozen at their sides.

“Aspen’s teaming up with vigilantes. How fun. Want to get me the nether-”

A quick flick of Phil’s wrist and Daydream was pushed back with a gust of wind. Allay ran up to her and Phil ran with him. He kicked Daydream in the stomach, making her stumble, as Allay pulled the gun from her hands and pointed it at her. Phil didn’t have any doubt that the vigilante would use it if he needed to.

The hostage Daydream was holding fell to the floor but was otherwise alright as they scrambled away. Daydream recovered quickly and assumed a battle stance.

Phil tried to grab her, but she stepped back, pulled out a knife, and slashed at his arm. Her aim and reach was off. The tip of her knife barely tugged at the fabric of this suit, tearing through it just a bit. The rip was a bit annoying, but it didn’t distract Phil from grabbing Daydream, flipping her over, and pinning her to the ground as he pulled power blocking cuffs out from his belt and locked her up.

Allay was at his side quickly, checking the rip in his sleeve worriedly.

“No cut mate, just my suit. Which will be shitty to fix, but nothing bad.” Phil smiled slightly, already imagining Weaver throwing a fit over the tear.

“That’s good, big man.” Allay breathed in relief as the police popped in to help escort hostages out of the building, doing a quick check on them at the same time. One police man tried to move to Allay, but Phil offered the vigilante a quick thank you before pulling the officer with him to the hostages. Allay took the opportunity to zip out of sight. That was good; Phil did not need Allay thrown in jail today. That would have been a headache in itself.

Phil gave his report to the police and checked on a few hostages, before his coms called him back to the Essempii headquarters to get his next order. He wished he could have stayed longer but he had a job, even if he hated it.

He did see a familiar raccoon mask give him a wave as he flew back.

He left at 9 am.

**********

Phil was not ready to be given an hour break at 12 or be allowed to leave to have lunch with his kids. But he wasn't upset about it either.

Weaver was a bit pissy at the cut in his suit and determined that Phil needed to be suspended while she fixed it. Phil’s pretty sure she just wanted him to have a break for a bit. So, respecting the spider hybrids commands, Night Raven, their boss, had given Phil permission to take his sons out to lunch. Well, really he’s taking Tommy out to lunch, since Technoblade and Wilbur were ‘busy’.

Philza really didn’t believe they were busy on a Saturday, but he didn’t argue. So there he was waiting for Tommy at Gaymen’s Cafe.

(It’s apparently a family name, but that doesn’t make it less funny. Especially with their rainbow theme menu and ‘special’ menus. Those menus are only for adults.)

Just as Phil was about to call Tommy and check on his progress to the Cafe, he heard heavy panting to his right. He smiled to see Tommy’s sweat-drenched brow and wind-tangled hair as he caught his breath. His signature white and red tee was stained with sweat and feathers.

“So lunch, big man?” Tommy gasped as he talked, wings fluttering behind him as he stood up straight.

“You didn’t have to sprint.” Phil shook his head fondly as he held the door.

“Dude, it’s not like you to have a lunch break, so obviously we need to spend the whole time together.” Tommy took the lead and led them in.

Phil chuckled at the truth, and tried not to let the bitterness of the situation sink into his heart as he followed.

“True, but now we have a lot of time.”

The smell of eggs, and coffee filled the air as they walked in. They quickly found a window table and sat down, turning their chairs so their wings wouldn’t be pressed against the hard backs of the wooden chairs, and instead both chose to lean on the headrest of the chair with one arm. One of the drawbacks of being an avian, but Phil wouldn’t change it for the world. Especially seeing Tommy’s brightly colored red wings—a phoenix, which was a rarity in the hybrid society. And Phil couldn't be prouder to call him his son.

Tommy started chatting about school and his homework, mostly complaining about Mr. Halo’s English homework and the essay he needed to work on. Apparently Technoblade had volunteered to help with it but had unexpectedly been busy today. The news played on in the background. Phil spared it a glance learning that Avon and Alastor had just taken down a few car thieves and returned a few stolen items. Seeing them both fleeing from the scene made Phil frown a bit. Alastor’s red cape flowed wildly as Avon’s blue fox tail followed. Neither paid the camera any mind as they ran and disappeared.

“Anyway, dad, what's up with you?” Tommy finally paused his rant to order with the waitress and then questioned Phil, who turned his attention away from the tv.

“Well, you know the organization has had me on a case for a while, and I think I’m making progress with it.”

“Ooooo, do share.”

“Top secret mate.” Phil chuckled at the frown that appeared on Tommy’s face.

“Oh come on, I’m your kid, I should be given like fucking access to secret files and shit.”

“If that was true, the organization would have a lot of kids running around, sharing secrets about the heroes to the world.” Phil couldn’t imagine the disaster that would happen with so many of the heroes’ kids having access to secret documents. The villains would surely use them to get info or blackmail the heroes. “Or villians.”

“Or vigilantes.”

Phil paused at that.

“I don’t think that’d be that bad.”

Tommy’s eyebrow shot upwards in surprise.

Phil elaborated, “Most of the vigilantes are too young to be heroes or don’t want to be under a hero’s contract. I don’t really blame them, the hero’s organization is a mess.” Phil made sure to say the last part in a whisper just so it was a secret between the family and not a public scandal. Tommy giggled at the secret, before continuing.

“Didn’t think-”

“Hell, some of the vigilantes do more than the heroes. I’m honestly glad to have them but I do want to discourage them from fighting with such shitty equipment.” Most of the equipment that vigilantes used was broken and repaired. It’s amazing how handy they were, but that made Phil worry all the more. One faulty piece of equipment malfunctioning during a fight and it would be all over. Phil was grateful he was usually there to help.

“So you want vigilantes but-”

“Kind of, I’d rather not have them be put in danger. I don’t want the youth risking their lives to fix grownups' mistakes.”

“But that’s what you’re doing!”

A waitress brought over their plates—two pancakes and syrup for Tommy and an omelet for Phil—one eyebrow raised at the comment, but she said nothing.

“Yes, but I’m an adult and I’ve caused my own share of mistakes, that I’m trying to right.” Sure, those mistakes may not have cost people their lives and put their kids on a vengeance path, but they are still mistakes Phil would like to correct. Including his unintentional neglect in taking care of his kids.

(They would definitely argue with him on that.)

He wished again he didn’t sign that fucking contract.

Phil didn’t even notice the knife that was creeping over his shoulder till a yell rang out, and it was plunged into his upper arm.

He yelped before spinning in his seat and kicking the person, slamming them down on the floor. Tommy rushed to help restrain the would-be assassin, elbowing him in the neck when he tried to move up, and helped Phil flip him over. The cashier screamed something as some of the other customers started to call for the cops. The man below Phil didn’t say anything, obviously just pissed that his plan didn’t work as well as he hoped. And having an elbow hit his airway probably didn’t help.

He did let out a few grunts as Phil readjusted his knee into the guy’s back, so he’d be fine sooner or later. The man was completely masked, meaning this was definitely premeditated and he was prepared for this. Sadly he chose the wrong hero to attack.

“Well, there goes lunch.” Tommy chuckled, while Phil just sighed with a giggle.

“Sorry Tom.”

“It’s okay- SHIT YOU’RE BLEEDING!”

Tommy was right, Phil’s arm was bleeding quite a bit, having a knife ripped out of it didn’t help. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too much damage; nothing a healing pot couldn’t fix. He can probably go back to work no matter what. Just a few bandages-

“I’ve got it.” Tommy quickly covered Phil’s wound with his hand, closing his eyes and focusing. Heat started to build up on the wound, not too bad, but a bit uncomfortable. Then energy started to flow to the wound, Phil’s own blood rushing to the injury at the energy’s pull to make the mending as seamless as possible.

It reminded Phil of when Tommy first discovered his powers, Phil had accidentally stabbed himself with a needle and Tommy had ran up to help, and covered the slightly bleeding wound, terrified that Phil was hurt. And just like that, as soon as Tommy took his hand away from Phil’s wound it was gone.

The heat and energy left, leaving Phil to feel slightly powered up. Some blood littered his shirt and skin, but the wound was completely gone.

“Thanks, Tom.”

Tommy’s normally bright blue eyes were a bit duller now, an unfortunate side effect of using his powers. A good nap and some food would bring his eyes back to their normal brightness. It wasn’t a fun side effect of healing powers, since it could show how much magic energy they have left to use to use their enemies, but it helps them know when to recharge, even if they feel fine.

He nodded shakily to Phil, checking briefly Phil’s hold on the villain, and wobbled back to the table to rest for a bit. He placed his head in his arms, taking a quick nap right then and there.

The police showed up right on cue, and helped take the man from Phil, and volunteer to take him to his office. Phil, of course, refused since he still had a few minutes left in his lunch. After the officers left, Phil went and cleaned up the blood in the bathroom, enough that it looked more like a ketchup stain rather than blood. Once he was done, he went back to Tommy. His son had woken up and was chatting with the waiter, who immediately turned to Phil when he came back.

“Sir, just so you know my manager is comping your meal and you can have any dessert from the menu.”

“You don’t have-” Phil was going to refuse, hands up and ready to explain it wasn’t that big of a deal, when Tommy butted in.

“Can we have the chocolate cake and lemon pie?”

Tommy looked so full of excitement that Phil couldn’t help but agree to the request, sitting back down as the waitress ran to get their new order.

“Happy about the outcome?” Phil was glad Tommy was getting some energy back.

“Fuck yeah. We get cake.”

Phil laughed, letting all his worries sink away with a slice of cake.

He went back to work at 1:30 pm.

*********

Phil was on his last call of the night and it was a rough one, if the video feed is anything to go by.

Avon was holding an infamous mobster hostage to get debt release on all of the mob's locations. It was a noble cause, since few of those people could afford the high taxes the mob puts on them and they usually ended up dead after one missed payment. This was where the vigilantes' unethical means came into play.

The vigilante was currently holding a gun to the mobster’s head, ready to fire if anyone came in. He was video casting himself to a bunch of tv stations to get the other head honchos of the mobs attention. He definitely got their attention. And the heroes’.

Phil was being sent to try and rescue said mobster…and hopefully not get shot in the process. He hadn’t got shot yet by Avon or the other vigilantes but he’d rather not push his luck with that. Avon’s not even using his voice control in the broad cast, confident that the mob isn’t that stupid to act irrationally with their boss in his hand.

The stone stairs echoed Phil’s heavy breathing as he ran up them to the top stable floor where Avon was supposed to be. But the room is empty, save for the giant hole in the ceiling leading up to the other floors of the abandoned office building. Of course, Avon somehow got to the structurally unsound floors of the buildings.

Reminded Phil of Wilbur. Kid had no self-preservation skills.

Phil’s com sprang to life, informing him that the mob has agreed to Avon’s ransom and they made plans to meet up and trade the leader for the promise of freeing debt. Phil confirmed this information before using his wings to fly up to the upper floor. And there he was in his blue glory, Avon, with his blue fox mask and tail and honestly a pretty cozy looking trench coat and sweater.

“Hey big guy. Heard you did some fun deals today.”

Avon seemed to brighten up at the unintentional praise. “Yep, just freed the L’manberg sector from the idiots' taxes.” Avon nudged his gun into the mobster’s head, who to his credit didn’t flinch too much at the gun being helped to his temple.

“Well, mate. You know you shouldn’t threaten to kill people no matter the cause.”

Avon’s shoulder deflated.

“Aspen, he would have killed them.”

“I know mate, but that’s a more provable crime. Unfortunately, debt and collection is an underground operation and is much harder to prove in a court of law. So even though I appreciate what you’re doing, there’s probably better ways to get the guy arrested.”

Avon pouted, shoulders slumped and all.

Thumps rang out in the nearly silent room. Shit.

Phil heard the footsteps as a bunch of mobsters came up the same hole that Phil had just emerged from. Obviously, they weren’t going to honor the deal they made with Avon.

For fuck’s sake! This was going to be messy.

“Hey, mates,” he tried.

They opened fire. Phil immediately used his wind to drive the bullets back, giving both him and Avon time to duck for cover.

“Not the talking type, huh?”

“I doubt that they would be.”

Another round of gunfire shut up both of them as they hid behind some rubble that was definitely from the ceiling. The fire stopped just enough for the men to demand their leader back, and give Avon a chance. He nodded at Phil and quickly stood up, holding the mobster and gun.

Well, fuck. Phil had been right earlier, this was going to be messy. He hurriedly covered his ears.

“Take your guns to your head and fire,” Avon commanded. Bullet fire echoed the words along with the thumb of bodies hitting the floor. Phil sighed before getting up to see them all dead, only Avon standing above the massacre.

“Mate, killing them wasn’t really the move. You could have sent them to sleep or-”

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, that will stop them from trying to fight. Again at least.” Avon said, leaving the limp body of the mobster boss with his pawns.

“Maybe. One of them may be an undead hybrid.” Phil said, side stepping a body.

“True, but that just makes it more fun.”

Avon came closer to Philza and held his hands out. Even though he towered over Phil, it almost felt like a little kid expecting discipline.

“Mate, you really are a little shit.”

“Come on, arrest me birdy. You know you want to.” He wiggled his wrists at Phil. It felt so natural to tease the vigilantes. Almost like arguing with his own kids, though his kids haven’t killed anyone.

Maybe that’s why Phil almost missed the other mobsters climbing up with a gun pointed at Avon. Or maybe that’s why he didn’t miss it.

The next second he had tackled Avon out of the way of the gunfire and knocked the assailant off their feet with some air, knocking them back down the hole. Avon let out a groan at the tackle but once he saw the mobster he hissed, pushing Phil off him and launching at the would-be assailant.

Phil rushed to the hole to see Avon over another dead body, but this time he had a scratch on his arm, with blood dripping down his hands.

“Fuck, mate. Don’t do that.” Phil glided down to Avon and, before the younger man could protest, poured some healing potion onto the knife wound. Avon hissed but let Phil bandage him up before they went their separate ways. Phil did give Avon a warning to be careful, and he teased him by calling him his dad.

Phil couldn't shake the weird feeling at the statement as he flew off.

He left at 5 pm on Saturday.

********

He was fucking late. He promised Wilbur he’d be there for his senior play and he was fucking late.

Shit! Shit! Fuck!

Phil just pulled into the dark parking lot, expecting to see people coming out, and was relieved when they weren’t. He quickly grabbed his backpack before rushing into the high school building, excited to see the play his son has been telling him about for weeks. It was their last show and Phil’s was glad his work let him off for the night, even if it was a fucking hour later than it should have been.

Thankfully when Phil stepped into the auditorium it seemed like the play was just getting started.

Wilbur fucking played the executives.

Phil let a smile decorate his face as he went and sat down. Phil loved his boy, his cunning little mastermind. He couldn’t be prouder of the man his son had become.

The play went without a hitch, Wilbur was one of the main leads, and he definitely had some fun with his vocal lines and really went full out for the performance. Though that could have been because Phil was actually here to see it, rather than just seeing Wilbur act it out in his room. Or maybe it was all done for him.

Especially with the gun fire scene. It really reflected how the hostage situation played out today. Maybe that could just be Phil still thinking about the fight from earlier though.

After the play finished, Phil rushed to try and get to Wilbur. It didn’t help that many others wanted to try to congratulate Phil’s boy too.

“Wilbur,” Phil finally got to him. He had to push a few people aside with an apology but was glad to be through.

“Dad!” Wilbur rushed to him, letting Phil envelop him in a huge hug. Which wasn’t really a big hug, except that Phil lifted him off the ground and gave him a spin.

“Woooo,” Wil cried as Phil finally let him back down, and Wilbur bonked their heads together as soon as he could. A piglin tradition, a sign of affection and care, and a headache for Phil in a few hours but he couldn’t care. His son was a star and he deserved to express his instincts in times like these.

A few students pulled them into a different crowd. They proceeded to brag to Phil about Wilbur’s accomplishments. Some Phil recognized, like Niki—a young girl with hair that rivaled Techno or Jack, a bald head boy with 3-D glasses that apparently didn't affect his sight at all, and more. It was fun chatting with the kids for a bit before Wilbur and Phil set off, ready to get a good night's sleep. Wilbur had at least 30 bouquets to decorate the penthouse with.

Of course, Phil did have a few questions for his rising star.

“So did you lie to the organization about the time your play started or did you lie to me about the time the play started?”

Wilbur looked shocked before he broke out in giggles. “Both, I knew the organization wouldn’t let you out on time, so I pushed it back an hour to give you and them some wiggle room. I honestly didn’t expect you to be there for another 30 mins.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to laugh. “I yelled at them that if I missed this play I’d make their lives hell for the rest of the time I worked for them. They got the message and let me go earlier.” Phil smiled at the memory of the boards’ pale faces at that declaration. It was funny watching them squirm for a second or two.

“I bet that was great.”

“Honestly was, so now that the play’s done what else you got to do to graduate?”

“Dad, nooooooooo.”

“What? I just want to make sure my son doesn’t fail in his final year. So what we-”

“Dad no-” Both laughed all the way home, before they went to bed.

They both got home at 10 pm on Saturday.

*******

Of course, things don’t go all easy for Phil. The next few days of work were brutal. 18 robberies, in total. 35 hostage situations. Like seriously who the fuck needs to do so many hostage situations that close together?

And there were some other minor crimes too, but the most annoying part was the press conferences and interviews.

Sure Phil goes in full costume, but it doesn’t not get annoying that half the people that talk to him treat him like a statue to pose and talk about him instead of talking to. Phil’s only solace is that he can chat with his son while he waits. Some stupid stuff, mostly that they are all texting during class and trying to be sneaky. Well, Wilbur and Tommy are anyway. Techno had basically finished the assignments for his classes and was just chilling, and told the teacher of his intentions. So really it didn’t matter to him.

Phil couldn’t be more proud of his boys, not because they were breaking rules and texting him, but because they were trying to get through school. Phil had barely graduated high school before becoming a hero. He really wished he went to college first, maybe then he wouldn’t have made the stupid choice to be a hero. Or at the very least change his contract just a bit so he would be freer.

Well, he can’t do anything now.

All he can do is hope his sons have a better future and prepare them for it the best he can. He’s glad finances aren’t a problem.

Phil can say all he wants about the hero business, but it sure pays pretty damn well.

His phone dinged with another message from Tommy, a gif of a dog licking the screen. Techno didn’t miss a beat to reply ‘why’d you send a gif of you’. And Tommy already was on his rant about how that’s not him and how dare Techno say such a thing. Phil just chuckled, watching the silly little argument from the painfully clean TV station.

“Excuse me, Aspen?” Phil looked up to see Night Raven, his boss, in front of him.

“I know, no phone on duty.”

“Wasn’t what I was going to ask, but you are right there. May I?” She gestured to the seat by Phil and he shrugged his shoulders in response. She took that as a yes and sat down.

“So I’d like to discuss something with you.” Her raven mask sat gently on her face, but Phil swore he saw a challenging look in her eyes. Phil saw a cameraman turn the cameras at them, as though this was going to be a big scoop.

“Sure?”

“I’d like to discuss your sons becoming heroes.”

Oh, she did not. Phil’s certain his phone would have cracked under his grip if it wasn’t already reinforced. He sat up straight at the comment, whipping his head towards her.

“I mean two of your boys are all ready to graduate and the-”

“No.”

“Pardon?

“I’m not making my boys sign up to be heroes. I’ve already told them they can become heroes when they are in their 20s, not their teens. Since then they’ll have a more developed brain and can read in-between the lines.” Phil didn’t hesitate to spit out the last part, a mention of his own fatal error. His face must have said something as well because Night Raven’s own face darkened just a bit.

“Aspen, that is unreasonable.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve discussed this once with you already and the higher-ups. It’s a no.” Phil got up; he wasn’t going to have this conversation again. “I’m not forcing my kids to join the heroes program, and I’ve already told them they can do it when they are older. Not fucking fresh out of high school. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking a walk.”

Night Raven chased after Phil. “Aspen, your sons are amazing. You have a healer, who would be really amazing on the front lines.”

“My son is my son. Not a healer. Hell his powers drain him to the point he almost passes out! He did a lot when he was younger.”

“So he just needs to be trained-”

“No, and that’s final. I’m not forcing my kids into a shit show program just to risk their lives 24/7. I joined so they wouldn’t have to do that. Don’t even try to explain how useful my other sons would be as heroes.” Phil walked to the door aware of the cameras still on them. “If my sons ever wanted to be heroes I would allow them once they are older, and I’m sure they’d be great heroes. But not now, not when they have so much else they can do.” Phil walked out and the news was ecstatic. This was the biggest news story yet.

Phil came back at 10 am, did the interview, and left at 12 pm on Tuesday.

Hero agencies try to force other heroes to have their kids join their recruits. Was streamed after the interview that night. All the TV shows gladly added their two cents to the story.

The agency was pissed.

******

Another robbery happened later that day, and Phil couldn’t care less why, he needed someone to beat off steam with.

He was definitely surprised to see Alastor already finishing up the case, and helping to lead the old man who was robbing a convenience store for food and money to a homeless shelter aid. He used his cape to keep the man warm while he waited. It was a fast case that day and sure Phil was a bit annoyed that he couldn’t beat the pulp out of someone. But he’s glad it ended earlier.

Alastor must have sensed something because he didn’t leave. Even when Phil went on a run after the robbery, even as he skipped over building after building he kept following.

Phil was done with today.

“What do you want?” He finally screamed at Alastor, his voice modifier cracked with the volume.

“You’re stressed. What’s up?” He seemed so casual about the whole thing. His pig mask gave no hint of annoyance or of a plot.

“Fucking news reporters and the hero agencies.” Sure, Phil just tells the strange vigilante about all the shit going on in your life, that won’t go bad at all. Alastor paused, and seemed to pounder before-.

“Wanta spare?”

“Huh?”

“I do it with my- um, my friend when we both need to let out our frustration. So spare?” He seemed nervous but Phil just laughed.

“Sure,” Phil said, preparing his stance, and watching Alastor prepare his. Both didn’t hesitate to lunge at each other.

It felt like a dance on the barren roof.

Each punch was blocked or traded for another one. It was a nice dance. One that felt almost too familiar. Finally, Phil tripped Alastor up to where he fell back on the rooftop. Both were panting but laughs were spilling past each of their lips.

“Thanks, mate, that helped a lot.” Phil helped Alastor to his feet.

“No problem. I better get going, goodbye you old crow.”

“Bye- I’m NOT an old crow!” Alastor's deep laugh was all Phil heard as the other slipped away into the alleyway below.

He left at 4 pm that day.

*****

A miracle happened. Phil made it back home before midnight. Sadly, the hero business is known to make heroes stay late, like really late. Like ‘your shift just ended but you have another shift in 3 hours, so see you soon’ late. So him being home earlier at all is a blessing.

Sure it’s still like 11 pm, but it’s early.

Though all his kids should be asleep right now, so he can’t hang out with them tonight. Later he can. Hopefully.

That was the plan at least, except that as soon as Phil stepped into his penthouse apartment kitchen, he found Technoblade cooking with one hand while reading a book with the other. Some sort of liquid was steaming in the pot as Techno and Phil made eye contact.

Oh, joy.

“Techno?” Phil’s son seemed very interested in his book all of a sudden. “What are you doing up?”

“I mean you’re up too, old man, and out of everyone you really need your beauty sleep.”

Phil gasped, how could his son—who looked like a model on the cover of a vogue magazine—say such a thing?

“How dare you, you little shit?” Both chuckled just a bit, volumes probably a bit loud for the late hour. “Seriously Tech, what’s up?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to cook something for lunch tomorrow or dinner.” Techno put the book down as he stirred the pot.

“I guess that makes sense.”

The silence that lapped over them was still, and comforting. Like Phil’s own wings. Phil could even pretend that he had all his boys in the nest, and they were just resting. That sounded nice, maybe he could ask for a day off to just hang with his family. It’s unlikely that he’d get it approved but there was a chance.

“You alright, dad?”

“Huh, ya, ‘m fine. Why?”

Techno just shrugged. “You seem a bit tense, just wanted to see what got your feathers in a ruffle.”

What is with the kids worrying about Phil all of a sudden?

“I’m fine, just yelled at Night Raven today.” Just thinking about the conversation made Phil tense.

“What did she do? It’s late, they don’t monitor you at these times, especially off duty.”

Phil’s grateful that Techno didn’t hesitate to remind him of some of the leeway he has.

“Ugh, she started asking about you guys being heroes.” The spoon hit the side of the pot a little too loudly as Phil talked. Obviously, this wasn’t expected on either side of the conversation. “She wants Tommy to be on the front line as a healer.”

“Wow, dumb,” Techno replied as monotone as he does, though Phil can sense the tension in his voice.

“Told her that you guys won’t become heroes until you want to and not till you're 20 or so.”

“I don’t-”

“I mean I know the hero program could pay for your college but I can too.”

“I don’t think you need to worry Phil,” Techno turned to him, finishing up with the pot and putting it off to the side as he looked at his father. “None of us want to be heroes right now. Especially with all the stuff you’ve told us.”

“I’m sorry that I told you all or even-” Phil pulled his arms close.

“Dad it’s not your fault, you don’t want us to make the same mistake as you. And you're trying really hard to keep us from any dangers. I appreciate that, and so does Tommy and Wilbur.” Techno walked to Phil, pulled him into a tight hug. “Even if you can’t be here, you’re protecting us even if you don’t know it.” Phil’s shoulders dropped as he hugged him back. Wings envelop them both, hiding them from the world.

He was so happy that his boys were all safe.

“Let’s go to bed.” Phil’s voice cracked as he pulled away, whipping some stray tears as he did so.

“Just let me put away the potatoes.”

“Okay.”

“Can we sleep in the nest?” A tiny bird chirped, and there in the doorway to the bedrooms were Tommy and Wilbur watching Phil and Technoblade. Phil smiled at the sight.

“Of course, we can.”

“I’ll get the pillows!” Tommy rushed past Wilbur yelling, “Movie night.”

“Tom I have work tomorrow,” Phil called, but it seems his fate has already been decided. He couldn’t be mad. All three remaining in the room chuckled at the excitement of the little one.

And that’s how Phil ended up in the nest with his three sons by his side as Up played on the tv for the 600th million time.

Phil remembers the clock.

It was 12 am when he fell asleep with his sons.

****

It was 10 am and Phil was in his office, filling out an order for a security check on Pandora’s box. It had been a while and someone needed to check it out again. Unfortunately, knowing the agency, once Phil’s done sending in the request he’ll probably be the one assigned to it

So is the life of the number 1 hero.

11 am was when shit hit the fan. 5 heroes had all been sent in to deal with a threatening group of villains. Originally it was just a threat then it became a hostage situation. Many of the younger trainees were sent in since it was supposedly only a few low-powered villains, who then overpowered the new heroes. And now they were being held for ransom for the nether star.

Of course, this all happened on a fucking Wednesday.

12 pm, with no progress on the situation. Phil was being sent in. Night Raven was waiting there to meet him.

“Take care of this fast.” He didn’t even notice his missing communicator till after she left. He brought it up to his commander and was told to just go without it.

“You’re the top hero, you can deal with a few villains.” So Phil flew out, with no communicator or backup. All he could do was pray that they were right as he left.

It’s still 12 pm.

***

They fucked up.

Phil, fucked up.

It was a fucking trap.

12:30 as Phil entered the decrepit building, which was extremely quiet. He was concerned, very concerned. There was blood on the floor and walls. Not enough to suggest the heroes were dead, but enough to suggest a lot of beating. The bottom floors were barren until he got to the 4th floor to find Alastor standing there—his pig mask was unmistakable—with his long blood red cap.

It was 1 pm.

“What the fuck?” Phil whispered, seeing Alastor whip his head around to fully face him. He froze as the man in front of him radioed.

“Aspen in the house.”

It’s a fucking blur from there.

Many villains jumped down from a hole in the ceiling, not just low-powered villains, but some top ones: like Tartarus, and Goldfinch. No wonder the trainees got captured. Goldfinch had his wings high, bright gold, ready to pounce, while Tartarus’s goat mask hid in the shadows, just watching as the show happened.

They pounced on Phil. He tried to make some room, blowing them away for a second before running up the stairs to try and get to the other heroes, who thankfully Phil found on the top floor. Chained and gagged but alive.

The villains were quick to climb the stairs too.

Philza immediately barricaded the door before trying to free the heroes. If he wasn’t running on adrenaline he would have noticed the lack of beating on the heroes or lack of blood. But he didn’t and that got Phil a punch to the face and a kick to the gut. He barely understood the situation as he bounced up dodging a levitated iron beam as it came down where his head was.

“Shit!” The heroes, who obviously were cut a deal, opened the door, letting the villains in. They immediately rushed to attack Phil. He ran off of instinct from there.

A kick—blocked. A rock was thrown—blocked. He used everything he had just to try and keep his head attached to his body. It was a rush of feeling to prepare for attacks. He couldn’t find Alastor though, he didn’t seem to be there.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” A body flung through the crowd, knocking down the assailant in front of Phil, provided by Alastor himself. Speak of the devil and he shall appear apparently. Phil wiped some of the blood off his lip from someone’s lucky punch. Everyone froze, looking at the very angry vigilante.

“Alastor you-”

“No! I agreed to take a few heroes captive and then return them with a warning. Not kill the number 1 hero.” Alastor pointed his trident at the others as everyone seemed to try and figure it out what was happening and what to do.

“You know what you signed up for!” Goldfinch took the charge questioning Alastor.

“I did but you knew what I agreed to do too!” Alastor moved forward, many others backed up.

“You just need a little shove.” Goldfinch let out a sharp chirp and the villains that were trying to approach Phil backed up, most pulled back by their higher-ups. They made a path for Alastor right to Phil.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t want to fight Aspen right? Mister ‘afraid of a little birdy.’ Now you can with all of us backing you up. No need to fear a bird with no claws right.”

Alastor's posture tensed just slightly, like a cat ready to pounce. It was subtle but Phil is used to Technoblade at minimum emotion. He can see those slight changes.

“You thought I feared him?”

“I mean we’d take him out anyway. Can’t exactly have the number one hero rooming free. But obviously, the great Alastor needs to conquer his fear of a little flightless bird.”

“Well then…” Alastor prepared his stance again, and pointed at Goldfinch and the villains. Phil was a bit nervous but the subtle nod his way dimmed it down. “Consider our deal null and void.”

Alastor pounced, barely giving any of the villains time to react as he knocked Goldfinch back, cueing Phil to attack from his side too.

Another fight began, but this time it was more like a dance. And this time, Phil had a partner.

Punches were traded. Kicks were landed or blocked. And some fled.

Sadly, many of the top villains didn’t leave, choosing to stay and fight. Phil wished they’d run like the cowards they were.

A flick of light off a knife caught Phil's attention for a mere moment but it was enough.

The burning followed by the ear-piercing scream was brutal.

Phil’s screams could be heard for miles. At least that’s what it felt like to him. Flames crawled up his back and side. He pulled back from the main fight, the burning following him as it climbed. The flames entangled him in searing pain as screams clawed their way out of his throat. Broken sprinklers burst in response to the smoke and fire, drenching everyone in dusty gritty water.

Everything became a blur of pain as it climbed up Phil’s wings and arm. His voice went hoarse from the wails that tore themselves from his throat.

His gut was kicked, silencing the scream for a moment before he hit the wall and Phil’s throat attempted to start again but ended up in coughs and splatters.

Phil tried to move but the pain was too much.

So he just stopped.

He probably looked as though he died. In some ways he did.

His wings twitched, but he was not moving them. Phil tried to move his neck just to look at the damage. But the pull of the skin burned as fresh as it was a minute ago. His eye was almost burned shut, the fact that Phil could still see was a miracle.

He tried again, wincing through the pain.

He…

He couldn’t fly.

He wouldn’t be able to fly again. The feathers were basically ashes. Bone showed through a thin layer of remaining feathers.

He wouldn’t be able to fly with Tommy again.

Or take Techno and Wilbur on little flights to touch the stars.

He couldn't move them.

They barely twitched and that was fucking involuntary.

That was fucking involuntary muscle movement. Phil tried to move a left hand to actually touch a feather and all he got was dust.

Fucking shit.

He wouldn’t be able to fly with his family again.

Tears joined the burning skin on Phil’s face. Everything he worked for was brought down by one simple moment.

Another foot greeted his gut before shoving his shoulder and wings into the wall.

He screamed.

He couldn’t breathe.

Then he could. Just a second later, he barely registered that his mask had been ripped off his face. Phil focused on his breathing as his lungs started to burn with bloody coughs, which sounded so slick and grotesque that he was surprised he hadn’t thrown up yet.

The coughs pulled at his burned wounds. Still fresh and free. Flames danced along them as though they still thrived on his skin. Even with all the water that was dumped on him.

A sickening splat, a thump, and some retreating footsteps pulled Phil back to the fight or really lack thereof. Because once he looked up all he saw was Alastor, who had a few cuts and nicks on him, but otherwise fine. The remnants of the fire, which Phil assumed was a fire spell, were licking at Alastor’s feet.

Phil breathed gladly that the young vigilante was safe.

“They are probably going to come back.” Alastor might as well have thrown a dump truck at Phil. His chest seized as he realized the situation both of them were in. Phil was badly injured, and Alastor is probably tired. He can’t move. His healing pots weren’t restocked from last week. They were truly fucked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t even- “-I’ll distract them till then.”

“What?” Phil completely missed what Alastor was saying.

“I said, you need to call for backup. Explain the situation and get them down here. We only have a finite time till your body is beyond the ability to be healed, old man. So I’ll distract them till they get here.”

Phil couldn’t help it. He laughed despite the pain and he sobbed.

“W-what?” Alaster asked, unnerved.

“T-they sent me with no coms! I couldn’t contact them if I wanted to… They left me for dead!”

A pin could have dropped in the silence. Heck, Phil’s pretty sure he heard a gasp but that could be the wind playing tricks on him.

“They what!?”

“I don’t have a fucking com. Don’t have a radio. Don’t got shit. Hell, they haven't restocked my potions since last week. We’re truely fucked!” Phil sounded maniacal now, laughing and sobbing. He’d never see his boys again. He covered his mouth trying to muffle the sobs spilling from his already ripped raw throat. He was caving in on himself, pulling his legs closer as he coughed, sobbed, and laughed. “I’ll never see my boys again!”

“No no dad, no we’re here, I’m here. I-” Alastor whispered, coming close to Phil who was acting so hysterical, probably from the shock he’d tell himself. Or from the idea of never seeing his boys again. Did it matter?

“Fuck, just leave Alastor. Make it out alive so-” Alastor’s barely whispered words finally registered. “What do you-?”

Footsteps cut off Phil’s question. Suddenly Alasor was standing again, blocking Phil from view as the villains flooded the room.

“Just leave,” Phil whispered. Alastor looked back and shook his head, standing tall and in defense like he was going to keep Phil safe from all the villains surrounding them. Phil’s probably delirious from the pain and the dad thing earlier, but he’s glad to not be alone. Makes it feel like he’s with his family.

Suddenly shattered glass filled the room along with smoke.

“T-Alastor take Da-Aspen and run!!!” A voice called. Phil was ungraciously picked up and carried. He barely quieted his whimper as his burns got touched and soon they were running. Alastor was running, and, finally, Phil started to piece it all together.

That was Wilbur telling them to run. But it was also Avon. Wilbur was Avon. Fuck.

His boys didn’t need to become heroes, they already became vigilantes, didn’t they?

It was making sense. How Tommy immediately rushed to Phil’s side after he got attacked to check if he needed to heal. Wilbur’s protective hovering over him. Techno sparing with him on that bad day. They were who he tried to steer away from hero work. Their sudden distance from hero talk- It made sense. Too much sense.

Wilbur was Avon, Tommy was Allay, and Techno was Alastor.

Haha, fuck.

“Techno, you and your brother are so grounded.”

Techno held Phil close as the fighting rang out, and then faded into nothing as Phil passed out.

It was 2 pm on the last clock Phil saw.

**

The next thing Phil sees when he wakes up is a white intact ceiling. Which wouldn’t be that strange but it’s not the hospital’s tile ceiling or another medical facility’s building. It’s a solid white ceiling that slants down to the left of where Phil lays, that leads to windows…

He’s in the fucking nest, isn’t he?

It took Phil a minute to recount the events that lead up to this, but the main parts were that his sons have been vigilantes for 4 months now and he almost got killed. His sons had kept this from him for months and have helped him for months. Well, doesn’t Phil feel like a shitty parent.

He understood that he couldn’t have known; he’s monitored most of the day and night, so they wouldn’t be able to tell him. But still, a little clue would have been nice so he could have helped them more. Maybe bought them some equipment or something.

Guess he can’t do anything now.

His wings…

His wings.

Phil does an experimental push, and his wing responds before electricity hits him. Phil could cry, it hurts but he can move his wings. Perfect. He sits up, moving his wings to his right before laying on his left, stretching his wings out just a bit and facing…

“Tommy?” The little blonde is completely out and based on the eye bags, exhausted. No wonder Phil feels so much better. Phil doesn’t hesitate to pull himself to Tommy’s side and pull him close. Just holding his little boy who probably saved his life. Tommy nuzzles into Phil’s chest, grateful for the contact and warmth.

Phil buries his face into Tommy’s hair as he listens to the news in the background.

News?

Phil looks up to see the flat screen TV angled towards the door with the afternoon news on and him. Phil was shocked to see the crime scene where he and Techno had fought off the villains the night before. Except that the time was only 6 pm.

Phil’s only been out for 4 hours and the world was going to shit. How did a camera crew even get in there?

“The crew had entered from the west entrance after Aspen was surrounded by villains and Alastor had come to the hero's rescue. Thought- “ Well that explains it. Phil listened half heartedly to the news telling of riots that were advocating for Hero’s rights and that all heroes should be able to call back to base whenever.

Nice to know some people care. Was really all Phil thought about, especially when they apparently brought up the whole speech with his kids thing. Something no news source had known was that he had kids and they were shocked that the agency was pressuring him into forcing them to be heroes. It was really a spectacle and if Phil wasn’t so tired he’d probably call in and thank them.

Though then he heard that he was now considered missing and immediately decided against it.

The door to the nest room creaks open, probably with one of the boys and based on the footsteps Phil is sure it’s-

“Wilbur.”

The steps freeze but then resume with a bit more urgency as Wilbur sits right behind Tommy.

“Dad,” Wilbur’s eyes are red, and his glasses are a bit foggy, but he seems unharmed.

“Hullo,” He echoes Techno’s greeting as the man himself comes in and sits by his twin.

“So what happened?” Phil figures they might as well immediately start out the talk with whatever story they have to tell.

“First, are you okay?” Techno butts in, not even trying to answer the question.

“‘M fine. Just a little sore.”

Both sons breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness. Tommy was so worried when Alastor brought you here that you wouldn’t be able to fly and that the damage couldn’t be fixed. Sure you have some light burn scars all over your face and arms-”

“Alastor?” Phil raised a brow, almost challenging Wilbur to keep digging his hole.

“Ya, the vigilante. Anyway-”

“You mean Techno.” Phil corrected, looking unimpressed at both of the piglins.

“Fuck.”

Techno just nervously chuffed as though he expected Phil to forget from the blood loss.

“Ya, I’m sticking to my word that you’re all grounded.”

“Hey- I shouldn’t be grounded, I healed your ass,” Tommy whined groggy from Phil’s arm, seeming to have just woken up to the conversation and wanting to add his two cents in, even if he is still exhausted. He was clutching Phil’s light kimono that he was wrapped in.

“No, you are grounded too. You’re all grounded for being fucking vigilantes, and for endangering yourselves.”

“Says the man on bed rest.” Wilbur retorted.

“This is my first major injury in 20 years, I’m good.”

“Still not a good looking one, old man.” Techno seemed to be relaxing as the conversation went on.

“Oh, and you guys are to talk, hiding your bruises with makeup. Don’t think I didn’t notice you guys were pretty bad at it for weeks.”

“You noticed that?”

“Yes, but I thought it was just some bullies. That’s why I encouraged some underground fighting techniques,” Phil said like it was the clearest thing ever, especially during the mob war, where Phil was called almost everyday to help in a fight between the Pogtopia mob and the Manberg mob. Everyone in the room seemed to have a collected movement of oh before they all laughed. Phil’s was cut a bit short with a cough but resumed soon after. They really chose the best time to become vigilantes, huh.

“So, my rule still stands.”

“Don’t worry. We have no interest in being heroes, it's been bad enough meeting them on the field.”

“Oh,” Phil finally moved to sit up, his kids quickly helping just so he didn’t pull anything. He would have fought it but really he’s tired.

“Ya, when we all started. we tried asking heroes for help and they told us either to ‘fuck off’ or that it’s too dangerous. Some of them were very hostile, or just tried to kill us to bring our heads to the organization.”

Phil’s face fell. Knowing that some of his co-workers could have seriously hurt his kids, was enough motivation for him to probably get to the hero tower and annihilate everyone in it.

“So did you all know from the start?”

“Nah, we didn’t know the others were doing it till we all snuck home at the same time.” Tommy clarified, yawning after.

“Yeah, it was funny seeing Wilbur steal cheese from the kitchen with his full suit on. Fun talk.” Techno chuckled at the memory of Wilbur in the open fridge with one of the string cheese sticks opened and in his mouth. Mask blocking one of his eyes but besides that completely recognizable.

“Wow, I’m the last in the family to know.”

“Kind of have to be, old man, the hero organization would throw a fit at what we were doing.” Tommy had to interject even with his eyelids fluttering, followed by a yawn.

“Right on that.”

“So now what?” Techno had to ask, a look over his eyes that said a plan was already in the work.

“Let’s get dad out of his contract,” Wilbur smiled sharply, already planning something big.

Phil couldn’t wait.

It was 6:30 pm.

*

It took little effort to get Phil out. The damage to his wings was severe enough that he’d be grounded for life, even with the light movements he could do. His hand had a lot of damage so he wouldn’t be able to control the wind to his full power. So Aspen was officially retired.

Well, everything but the last part was a lie. Phil couldn’t be more pleased with his kids' abilities to make up a lie so believable that if Phil wasn’t a part of it he’d believe them too. They did take a risk healing Phil so little but it was worth it to get out of the contract.

And soon under the moon’s light, Phil was flying again. It took a bit, with him still being a bit sore from the burns. But he’ll survive. Most of the damage was exaggerated, and with some of Phil’s acting, he was out.

He was out and free.

With a lovely severance pay.

Now he was out feeling the wind flow past his wings. A crow mask over his face.

Abyss is out for a nightly patrol while his partners are sleeping, excited for their last day of school in the morning.

Abyss couldn’t be prouder of them, except that they obviously snuck out.

“You boys should be in bed.” Abyss flew right behind the three creeping boys.

“So should you old man!” Allay fired back. They laughed low and happy.

“There’s a break-in on Manberg’s side,” Alastor said, pulling his finger away from his com.

“Well, let’s go.” Allay was off. “I’ll beat you fucking losers there.” With a cry, they were off.

Truly Phil was freer than he’d ever been now.

And it was only 10 pm.

The day was ending.

But Philza’s life was just beginning.