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Chapter 25: Our Great Leader Pays a Visit. Oh, Joy

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Chapter 25: Our Great Leader Pays a Visit. Oh, Joy

The research team told the workers that they wanted to build a facility around the fallen Dragon to study it and help it recover. I should have listened to my instincts and put a stop to whatever they were doing then and there. But I was just a lowly construction worker in those days. I doubt anyone would have listened to my protests.

 “Hurry up and get dressed, you charlatan! We’ve been summoned,” urged Éclair outside of a dressing room in the market tailor shop.

“I still don’t see why I have to wear this thing,” replied Ryan rather curtly.

            At first, Éclair had been furious at Ryan for tricking her the way he did, but then when she realized why he did it … well … she was still mad, but more of an annoyed mad and less of an angry mad, if that made any sense. It was actually kind of sweet what the boy did, in an inane and psychotic sort of way. In other words, typical Ryan Uruks style.

            And now she found out that the Emperor approached, and even worse, Squad 99 had been summoned. Éclair had no idea why. They were distinguished in some areas, but by Elemental standards, most considered them rookies … amateurs still in training. But at the moment, that didn't matter. The important thing was for Éclair to look as dazzling as possible for the boy she liked.

This gave Éclair the opportunity to get dressed up and show off to Leon. It had been ages since she wore a dress and felt like a proper lady. The last time she donned formal attire was when she lived in the palace, but that was before … Éclair decided not to think of that right now.

Besides the fact that this is all entirely unexpected, it's also highly suspicious. Why would the Emperor come here and why now? Could it be that he knows my secret? No! That's not possible. My godfather told me that they had erased all traces of my existence … that I would be safe so long as I stayed with the Ministry.

Besides, Chissler has never shown much interest in searching for me in recent years. He may not be a big fan of the Ministries, but that doesn’t automatically make him an enemy. Could it have anything to do with Leon? He did say that there might be people who would come looking for him one day. If Chissler threatens Leon, Emperor, or no Emperor, I’ll have his hide.

But not even the worry that Éclair felt for Leon even compared to her annoyance at Ryan. As soon as she heard the announcement, Éclair rushed off to her bedroom to try out some dress clothes, but not before the idiot Ryan started panicking about what he would wear.

Éclair felt a little bad about freezing him and then punching him, so she offered to help, but now she began to regret her generosity. Of course, being the nincompoop that he was, Ryan never thought of going out and buying something fashionable to wear for special occasions, despite having been given explicit instructions to do so at the orientation at least a dozen times. Honestly, being around Ryan Uruks felt like having a little brother and an infant all in one package.

            “Hey, Éclair! I can’t figure out where this rope thingy goes. Is it for hanging myself?” whined Ryan while in the dressing room.

            Éclair smacked herself in the forehead and took a deep breath. “It’s called a tie. You put it around your neck, you twit. You watch a lot of holodramas, right? Haven’t you seen one of those before?”

            “Oh, a tie! So that’s what these things are called! Fascinating!” Ryan paused for a few seconds, and Éclair wondered if he tried out his theory of using it as a noose. “Hey, Éclair. I still can’t figure how to get it on. You wanna come in and show me how it’s done?”

            Éclair held the top of her nose and shook her head back and forth in defeat. “Why me?! Why me? Why me?”

            “Excusa, mademoiselle,” said the shop owner, Gaston.

            Gaston was a strange, pudgy little fellow with white powder and makeup on his face and a girlish voice with a French accent. Adding to his hilarious visage, he wore a white dress suit with black polka dots and bright red shoes. Perhaps it was just the job of people in his business to look eccentric, so Éclair tried not to say anything rude.

            “You require assistance? Oui o no?”

            “Oh, no need to worry. My friend is just mentally deficient. I believe he ate paint as a child,” said Éclair.

            “And loved it,” chipped in Ryan in a high-pitched singing voice, not missing a beat.

Éclair pretended to laugh at his joke. “Heh heh! Isn’t he just soooo funny?!”

I should have frozen his face shut, that way I wouldn’t have to look at him or hear his ridiculous jokes.

The shop owner seemed to nod knowingly. “First date. Oui.”

Éclair was flabbergasted as she waved her hands negatively. “OH, NO! EWW, NO! We’re just…”

The strange man held up a hand. “There is no need to explain yourselves. I, of all people, can understand the awkwardness of first love. Especially for someone so young and innocent like yourself.”

The man squeezed Éclair’s cheeks, and she resisted the urge to go for the sweet spot.

“By the way, could you tell me your names again, S’il vous plait?”

Before Éclair could answer, Ryan interjected from the dressing room. “I’m Ryan, and that’s Éclair.”

Éclair groaned. Suffice it to say, Éclair tended to avoid revealing her name out of habit, especially when giving her first name to French people.

“Éclair?” replied the eccentric French man in surprise.

“Yeah,” said Ryan unwittingly. “It’s French, so I thought you could relate and all.”

“Ryan!” muttered an embarrassed Éclair through gritted teeth.

Gaston started laughing so hard that he had to wipe a tear from his makeup-ridden face, smudging his mascara slightly. “You do realize dat ‘Éclair’ is not a real French name, but a pastry. No?”

The man actually put his hand on Éclair’s own hand, and started patting her, as if she wasn’t freaked out enough at this point.

“A pastry?” repeated Ryan in disbelief.

“I know. My parents had a thing for French desserts. Can we just drop it?” replied Éclair, desperate to change the subject to literally any other topic.

“It matters not. Is all the same when you are in love,” said Gaston, suddenly taking his hand away to wipe more tears away. “As hard as it may be for you to imagine, I, Gaston, was once in love. Oui, oui.”

            Ryan’s voice came from inside the dressing room. “With a girl, right?”

            Gaston ignored Ryan’s quip and continued his soap opera/monologue. “We were like ‘peas in de pot’ as de commoners would say. But den, fate dealt a cruel blow to Gaston’s heart. Dey dell me dat I wear too much makeup, dat I should allow my beauty to be more natural.”

            Éclair stayed quiet during this conversational lapse into madness. Though she did try to pull her hands away from Gaston, the tailor held her tight.

            “’They’, as in plural … as in multiple relationships? Not at the same time, right?” asked a confused Ryan. 

            As uncomfortable as this conversation has become, it’s preferable to discussing the fact that I’m named after a French pastry.

            “And den I say back to them,” continued Gaston. “I say … you know what Gaston says back to dem? Oui, oui.”

            By some miracle, or a practical joke by a divine being that had something against Éclair, Ryan Uruks came to the rescue as he stepped out of the dressing; and thankfully, fully clothed. Though his tie lay in tatters around his collar, truth be told, he didn’t look that bad in the traditional dress uniform of the Ministry of Fire.

His red hair had been combed back tastefully, and his suit was a charming mix of dark maroon and gold buttons with the Ministry’s symbols weaved into the threads. In fact, he wore it well, even with the haphazard tie, but Éclair would never tell him that

            “How ‘bout, whoa whoa! As in, no no, Gaston.”

            Another tear went down Gaston’s pasty face. “De little one does not wish to hear Gaston’s tale of love and dragedy. Oui, oui.”

            “No, no! It’s not like that Gaston, my man.” Ryan had that glint in his eye that meant he was up to something. “It’s just that I don’t think the story should end there, because you still have a chance for love. The tale must go on. Oui, oui!”

            Éclair had to stifle a giggle at the last part.

            Gaston’s face immediately lit up. “Sacre Bleu! Oui, oui! De little one is right. Dis is not de end of beauty and romance! Gaston will now seek greater heights in fashion and love, and one day Gaston will pierce the veil of the mysteries dat love still holds!”

            Ryan gave Gaston a friendly pat on the back. “That a boy, Gaston.”

            Then Gaston did something equally disturbing as his entire speech. He took Ryan by the face and kissed him full on the mouth. If Éclair hadn't already been in a state of shock, she might have started laughing.

            “You are as beautiful as you are wise, little one,” said Gaston, as he extracted his lips from Ryan’s.

Ryan looked even more surprised than Éclair, and infinitely more disgusted. “Gee, Gaston … I don’t know what to say.” The words stuck in his throat.

That was the last straw. Éclair busted out laughing.

Gaston then turned his frighteningly girlish face to Éclair. “Now it is the lady’s turn.”

“Oh, but I have to go to my room! I don’t have anything to wear here!” exclaimed Éclair in desperation.

Despite Éclair’s protest, Gaston insistently led her to the girl’s changing room. “No need for tears, miss. De little one has already bought the clothes for you. What a remarkable boy you have.”

“Ryan!” said Éclair hoarsely. “You did what? You don’t know anything about fashion!”

Ryan nonchalantly gave her a thumbs-up. “No need to thank me. It’s just what any sensible guy would’ve done.”

            That clenched it, Éclair was angry at Ryan again. “Ryan, I swear I’m going to kill you,” she swore, raising a fist angrily.

            Gaston then pushed Éclair into the dressing door and locked the door behind her. “Oh, young love is so sweet, mon non?”

 

An hour later, they made their way back to the Ministry. Surprisingly, Ryan’s choices of dresses were elegant, and also fit the wardrobe criteria for females of the Ministry of Fire. Éclair grew suspicious of Ryan’s supposed ignorance on fashion. She wore a simple white and blue striped dress, embroidered with Ministry symbols as well as a few nonhuman designs that gave it a little bit of an exotic appeal. The dress had no sleeves and was by no means modest with the cleavage, but neither did it overly reveal Éclair’s bosom. However, Éclair’s back was exposed in a way that didn't go unnoticed, but not too far down so as to be inappropriate. The dress had lovely white runes threaded into the blue silk from the ancient language, the same as the gates at the base of the volcano. The gown also came with a pair of white silk gloves that went up to Éclair’s elbows. Not the most intricate dress she'd ever worn, but resplendent nonetheless.

            “I really am surprised that your choice wasn't completely terrible. How are you so knowledgeable about woman’s wear? You have unexpectedly exquisite taste. It is rather suspicious if you ask me.”

            “I used to go shopping with my mom,” answered Ryan in a slightly sad voice. “She’d ask for my opinion as she tried out all kinds of ballroom stuff, like gowns and dresses. Those Elves really knew how to sew, you know.”

            Éclair studied Ryan closely before saying, “You must miss her a lot?”

            “Yeah,” replied Ryan, his scarlet eyes drooping slightly. “I get the feeling that you two would have gotten along well.”

            “I have no doubt,” agreed Éclair. “I wasn't that close with my mother, but I still miss her terribly. I can only imagine what it’s like for you.”

            “Don’t worry about me,” said Ryan, smiling wryly. “It’s you that needs cheering up, remember?”

            “Was this all part of the plan too, Ryan Uruks?”

            “What are you talking about?” replied Ryan, a mischievous grin spread to his face.

Éclair could hardly believe it. He really planned it all out. Ryan always came off as fickle and frivolous, prompting Éclair to underestimate his more cunning nature. “Why would you do all this for me? You didn’t even know what was bothering me … and how could you be so sure that something was bothering me in the first place?”

            As they walked through the corridors of the Ministry of fire, Ryan shrugged. “We’re friends, right? Do I need a reason to help out a friend when she’s feeling bad?”

Éclair observed the strange half-alien even more intently as he spoke.

“I could tell that you’ve been kind of down lately. It wouldn’t have helped if I knew what it was, so I didn’t ask. I just decided to be your punching bag, and when I heard about the announcement, I saw it as an opportunity to try out something nice, that’s all. Thanks for helping me with the tie. I swear I would have hanged myself if you hadn’t of showed up.”

            Éclair was taken aback. Even if his tactics were idiotic and immature, she still felt better than she did before. As they approached the hallway to the Minister’s office, Éclair leaned to his ear and said in a quiet voice, “Thanks.”

            Ryan turned a slight shade of purple as he swiveled his head away and said, “Anytime.” Although Ryan might've gotten away with his stunt on relatively good terms with Éclair, that all ended with his last comment. “So, you’re really named after a French pastry?”

            Éclair elbowed Ryan in the gut. “You just lost all your points with me, Uruks,” she said tersely.

            “You’re keeping score?” grunted Ryan, rubbing his ribs.

They soon reached Éclair’s room to find the rest of Squad 99 standing at attention in their formal wear. Rachel wore a black, sleeveless dress that showed off her more mature figure, and she placed herself annoyingly close to Leon. Eramar attended as well in a maroon dress uniform similar to Ryan’s. Even Grafael and Tork wore black suits and ties that somehow covered their bulky frames, though Tork’s suit was a custom item with holes in the back for his wings. Both seemed extremely uncomfortable in their tight, dress pants as they adjusted their belts regularly, their scaly tails drumming the floor behind them. She could only imagine the hassle that the tailors went through making pants with holes in the bottoms to fit the Saurian and the Dragon. Tork and Grafael’s humorous affliction aside, Éclair noticed a tension in the room that seemed to drain the jubilee she'd been feeling only moments ago.

Éclair moved to Leon's side, who was positively stunning in his dark dress uniform and polished glasses that rendered him an intellectual air. Then he glanced at her tentatively, his face paler than usual. Leon almost seemed frightened.     

            Éclair suddenly heard Leon’s voice speaking in her head. “Éclair! Don’t say anything about your parents or Ryan’s. This could be a trap. Whatever you do, stick to the cover story we have for both of you. I’ll tell Ryan to do the same. Please, Éclair, this could be a matter of life or death for you both!”

            Éclair didn’t react visibly to what Leon told her, though her head spun inwardly. She had suspected as much, but it hadn't felt real to her until she heard Leon's warning. Éclair forced herself to remain silent and maintain consistent behavioral patterns in case the Emperor had the room watched. She'd been trained to remain impartial in situations such as these. Unfortunately, Ryan wasn't so quick on the uptake.

            “What did you say, Leon?” asked Ryan quite loudly, practically shouting.

 

Ryan had just heard Leon say that he should lie if questioned about his parents. It almost seemed for a second that Leon spoke directly into his mind.

            “Silence,” hushed Eramar in a harsh tone.

            As Ryan swiveled around, he noticed that both Éclair and Leon glowered at him. What the heck did I do? Suddenly, he heard a trumpet so loud and so deep that it made his head vibrate.

Eramar's posture went rigid and stiff. “He approaches. Follow me,” he said, almost in a startled voice. “This goes without saying, Ryan, but even though you have been invited, you are not allowed to speak unless spoken to. The Emperor has enacted an ancient law that forbids those of lower station from speaking to him unless spoken to, especially Elementals. Only Minister Kaves and I are authorized to communicate with him. Speaking out of turn could get you executed on the spot, so tread carefully.”

            Ryan gulped. I could get killed just for talking! I thought humans were more evolved than that! Is this what we’ve come to, to the point where we risk everything by just saying what’s on our minds?

            Eramar then took them to the main entrance. When they came outside, Ryan gasped at what he saw. Hundreds of thousands of people had gathered, many times more than at orientation. And these weren't children in citizens’ clothing; every one of them was a full-fledged Elemental in gleaming armor of red and gold. They all lined up according to rank.

In the front were the Grunts, all in training gear and looking nervous and out of place among the army of Elemental warriors gathered. Then came the Firsts, appearing a little more mature than the Grunts in their more ornate training armor and each bearing a single notch on their shoulders, but they still paled in comparison to what came after.

Every Second there was at least twice the age of Leon and Rachel and had even more intimidating scowls complementing their worn and hewn armor with two notches. Ryan could tell just by looking at them that they could probably hold their own against Hamma Steel. And then came the Thirds.

Ryan had heard from Eramar that Hamma was a relatively new Third and wasn’t up to par for what qualified veteran Thirds like the ones he saw on the entry fields. Ryan didn't wish to hear such a thing at the time, but seeing them now, he couldn’t help but agree. They each had three notches on their shoulders, and their armor was more individualistic and unique than those who ranked below them.

After the Thirds stood the Fourths, with undulating red capes only slightly less decorated than Eramar's. Ryan had heard rumors that Fourths were so powerful in Elemency that they could actually defy gravity, and in some cases, fly past the atmosphere into space like a starship. Ryan didn’t even want to look at those guys because of the tingling feeling he got just from standing near to such intense psionic energy levels. Four long notches decorated their shoulder plates and their capes.

            And last but not least, the only group not in armor, and the group that Ryan had been temporarily invited to join for the evening, the twelve Wielders of the Council along with the Minister of Fire herself. The Wielders wore dresses and suits instead of armor, much like the members of Squad 99. They stood at the very top of the massive stairs that were about the size of a football field, in front of the colossal doors still aflame with strange runes written in the fire.

They had been stationed in between the massive gargantuan statues of the dragon and the lion. Unlike the others gathered, Ryan felt nothing from any of the Wielders at the moment. Éclair had told him that they kept their psionic presence suppressed so as not to kill anyone.

A dozen Wielders comprised the Council, including Eramar, with Saria as the thirteenth. As always, she wore the long, ornate robes of the Fire Minister in streams of red and gold. Although, Ryan had heard that the robe itself didn’t indicate her station as Fire Minister, but rather the golden ring she wore on her right hand. The ring was like a miniature medallion, bearing the moving figures of a lion and a dragon.

Ryan had heard rumors that some Wielders were powerful enough to destroy an entire city the size of Toramirese on their own. So to say that Ryan was scared out of his mind standing next to such beings would be a bit of an understatement.

            Ryan had never been in a dress suit before, and just standing in front of everyone when he wasn’t even a First made him feel a little out of place. He kept fighting the urge to itch several body parts that had suddenly become irritated by the tight fabric that came close to suffocating him under the hot sun. 

Ryan stole glances at Éclair every now and then just to distract him from his nervousness. When it seemed like Éclair started to look his way, he quickly turned his head back. Éclair seemed pretty annoyed after he reacted to Leon’s disturbing instructions, so he didn’t want her to think he was creepy as well as annoying.

After all the work that I went through to get back into Éclair’s good graces and cheer her up, all to be dashed by an outburst that made perfect sense. And to top it off, she’s still gaga for that pretty boy son-of-a-jerk! Ryan huffed to himself in dismay. Man! Girls are weird, Ryan finally said to himself, mostly for his own sake.

Ryan leaned over and whispered to Éclair, “Hey, how long do we have to stand here?”

            Éclair did not answer, but her boyfriend did. “Shut up, whelp, and listen.”

            Ryan suppressed the urge to punch the four-eyed freak in the nose, and then he heard something that gave him pause. It started as a deep, low roar that seemed to come from someplace far off, but then it slowly grew louder until the ground itself shook. Then a shadow passed over Ryan, and he looked up to one of the most magnificent sights of his short life; a fleet of capital ships bigger than the tallest skyscrapers.

Each vessel flew armed to the teeth with missile turrets and laser cannons larger than most buildings. There were five vessels in all; the biggest one at the center, which Ryan guessed belonged to the Emperor, had the most cannons out of all of them. The vessels were sleek and long with white and gold colors.

They were shaped almost like a human body with bird wings. As Ryan searched for the right words to describe them, he realized that they resembled angels. Ryan had heard that the Emperor never went anywhere without his small escort fleet.

Cautious guy.

With a gasp, Ryan realized that the vessels’ designs seemed very familiar. They had been familiar because they looked a lot like Éclair’s vessels, the one she came to Toramirese in and the one she brought Ryan to the Ministry in. The fleet hovered over the dome for a few minutes while the Emperor’s flagship came to settle at the massive landing platform near the entrance of the dome.

Ryan finally understood why people as powerful as the Elementals still feared the Emperor. With one word, the Emperor could unleash a fleet hundreds of times the size of this one, and the Ministry of Fire, for all its strength, would be virtually powerless to stop such a technological onslaught.

Not that there is anything to be afraid of. He may have a few questionable policies, but we’re still on the same side, right? But then Ryan remembered the warning that Hannah had given him. “Beware of the Emperor, for he is no friend of yours.”

With a massive crash! the flagship finally landed next to the Ministry. Compared to the entire dome, the flagship was still much smaller; at most a tenth of the size of the whole Ministry, but that didn’t make it any less imposing.

            “That bastard always has to give off a big show,” whispered Leon bitterly. Leon hadn't been this angry since their duel with Hamma Steel. ‘“Assert your dominance in every negotiation whether they be your allies or not.’ Isn’t that your way, Chissler?”

            A small transport vessel, similar to the limousine-shaped vehicle that he had ridden in with Éclair, glided out of the Emperor's flagship. The glass-like force field doors of the dome opened to let the vessel enter, which came to rest at the end of the column of Elementals gathered to welcome the Emperor.

Shortly after the vessel landed, a man with blond hair and a nobleman’s robes came to stand in front of the transport. He held a rectangular voice amplifier to his mouth fashioned like an ancient cell phone and said, “May I present his Highness, Alexander Chissler. Holy Emperor of the Tarrus Empire and all of its domains. Exalted ruler of the twelve Ministries of the Elements and the Monastery of Light.”

The doors to the smaller ship opened, and out walked the man that many people feared as a tyrant. Even as far away as he stood, Ryan could see him clearly. He was just a little shorter than Ryan thought he would be, and very thin, so much so that he almost seemed feminine. He wore a white fur coat made into a robe that Ryan recognized as belonging to the endangered species of glacier wolves that lived on one of the moons of Tarrus.

Ryan always had a soft spot for animals, especially ones on the verge of extinction, so if he knew nothing else about the guy, he wouldn’t like him. His boots were black and long enough that they came up to his knees. His dress suit and pants were dark gray and all across his chest were embroidered dozens of medals and jewelry.

The man had long, straight black hair that went down past his shoulders, giving him an even more womanly appearance. As the man walked down the line of thousands of Elementals, he smiled and waved at those nearby, as if he knew everyone around him. The crowd of Elementals remained stone-faced at the Emperor's peacocking.

He acts like this is some kind of party instead of a hostile takeover of the Ministry. Who the hell does this guy think he is? Well … then again … I guess he thinks he’s the Emperor … because he is.

Ryan had heard that the new Emperor, who took office not long after the death of Ryan’s parents, had little love for Elementals, but that contempt didn't seem apparent in his overall friendly demeanor. Still, there did seem to be a certain amount of brazenness in the man’s attitude as he strolled up the steps as if he owned the place, which, technically, he did.

The man who made the announcement accompanied him, as well as an escort of a couple dozen royal guards, all outfitted with special armor that glowed with a blue light like the ropes that the mercenaries had used against Ryan to drain his power. They came armed with very large rifles that had the power to pierce tank armor, or at least that's what Ryan had heard.

As the Emperor drew closer, Ryan got a good look at his face. He was handsome, dark-skinned, perhaps Arabian or Indian in lineage, had a clean-shaven chin and dark eyes. A small, but elegant golden crown shaped to resemble olive branches sat glistening from the man’s forehead. Ryan considered himself a fairly good judge of people, so he decided that Chissler was more like a strutting peacock than an Emperor.

This guy’s as shallow as a puddle in the road, and twice as murky.

The man’s eyes finally came to rest on Leon, and then he smiled in a friendly manner. “Hello, Leon, my son. How’s that rebellion stage working out for you? Still haven’t changed your mind about leaving the Ministry and coming to work for me and my Elemental Elites?”

Ryan’s literally mouth dropped as his head swiveled from Leon to the Emperor. Éclair gasped, equally surprised, which both pleased Ryan and annoyed him at the same time. Pleased him because she obviously didn’t know as much about Leon as she thought she did, so they probably weren’t together. Annoyed at him because now that Leon was the son of the Emperor, it would be impossible to one-up him.

Leon gave the Emperor a thin smile and said, “Sorry, Chissler, but I still think I’d rather rip out my own tongue before spending any more time with you than I have to.”

Ryan wondered if the Emperor might get upset, but surprisingly, he just gave a cheerful laugh. “I guess I’ll have to wait a little longer for you to come around then.”

Chissler's manner suggested that he regarded Leon as nothing more than a plaything meant to be used or thrown away at any given moment. Ryan may not have been a huge fan of Leon’s, but he still felt edgy about a creepy royal toying with him like that.

Saria motioned for Leon to take a step back before she greeted the Emperor. To her credit, she looked no less diminished in her authority as the Minister of Fire, even when standing before the lavish Emperor, who now regarded her with mild uninterest.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Fire, your eminence,” Saria said in a respectful tone, bowing slightly. “It is an honor that you should grace us with your presence.”

The Emperor's superb smile never left his lips, but it looked about as genuine as a fox. “As well you should be, Kaves. Now, shall we adjourn to your private office, or do you intend to leave me standing here in the hot sun all day, and under the gloom of an active volcano, no less.” Though he spoke in a joking manner, there seemed an underlying edge to the man’s voice.

If the Minister had been annoyed in the slightest at the Emperor’s gibe, she didn't show it as she motioned behind, making way for the Emperor to go first. “Right this way, your eminence.”

Ryan got the feeling that whatever reason brought the Emperor here, it didn't bode well for his newfound friends in the Ministry of Fire.

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