Two little girls who overcome the odds together. An ancient order’s secret of the ages. A globe spanning industrial empire. It is where East meets West. Where Science meets Martial Arts. Where the dragons fight for rule of the world.

Do you want to be a fashion or outfit designer?

Play Model Debut 3 #nicola [On Steam]

You are an inspired student of Wing Tsun who has ascended to protect the teachings of your temple…

Play Sifu [On Steam] [On Epic]

You are a champion martial artist, representing your fellow humanity in an eternal competition to the death… FIGHT and Finish him!

Play Mortal Kombat 1 [On Steam] [On Epic]

Want to pick your champion and style and then bout against the other greats of martial arts?

Play Shaolin versus Wutang [On Steam]

Play Kings of Kung Fu [On Steam]

Wanna be a Captain or Admiral?

Play World Of Warships [On Steam] [On Epic]

Warning: This episode deals with sensitive topics and is intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is definitely advised.

For your information, the character Helayne Ying aka the Butterfly Dragon, she’s Chinese, not Filipino with all due respect, though in one episode of Two Butterflies, there is a tribute to the superhero Darna.

Dragon Butterfly is Japanese and soon to make her first appearance in this new series…

Chapters

1. Lefrange – Le Danters – Le Farnham (Finished June 24, 2026)
2. The Dragons Awaken (Finished June 25, 2026)
3. Warehouse Warpath (Finished July 2, 2026)
4. Harbourfront Blockade (Started July 2, 2026)

Support Charity

Please support education and information access where you can in addition to these charities:

National Breast Cancer Foundation [Donate] [Hope Kit] [Women’s Programs]
One of their top priorities is educating women on what they can do to be proactive with their breast health. Knowledge and early detection saves lives.

Sick Kids Foundation – Check out the Sick Kids Raffle!

Help research that provides cures and support treatment for sick children. 

Holland Bloorview Kids Rehabilitation Hospital

Creating a world of possibility for kids and youth with disabilities.

The Cancer Research Institute
The Princess Margaret Foundation
Cancer Research organizations that combine the expertise of many different research firms and Universities to find innovative treatments and cures for Cancer.

David Suzuki Foundation
Through evidence-based research, education and policy analysis, we work to conserve and protect the natural environment, and help create a sustainable Canada. We regularly collaborate with non-profit and community organizations, all levels of government, businesses and individuals.

Fire Aid LA

Donate directly to FireAid today to help us start rebuilding our community. Direct donations will be distributed under the advisement of the Annenberg Foundation and will be distributed for short-term relief efforts and long-term initiatives to prevent future fire disasters throughout Southern California.

United Nations Fund
United Way Worldwide

Two organizations whose contribution of expertise, human and financial resources and volunteer efforts provide humanitarian solutions to real world problems the entire world over. These charities operate worldwide. The United Nations Fund supports the various programs part of the United Nations’ global mandate, as much a foundation as it is a roof around the world.

World Veterans Federation (Under Reconstruction) [Wikipedia]
The World Veterans Federation is a humanitarian organisation, a charity and a peace activist movement. The WVF maintains its consultative status with the United Nations since 1951 and was conferred the title of “Peace Messenger” in 1987.

I’d like to point out that it was the incredible Gary Sinese Foundation that brought the issue of Veteran’s rights to my attention. I’ve always had little respect for those who’d forget the great contribution made by those who’ve risked life and limb to defend those values that so many of us espouse. Perhaps the true measure of one’s principles are by that for which they’d risk their life.

“None can speak more eloquently for peace than those who have fought in war.”

Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize 1950

The Dana And Christopher Reeve Foundation

The Reeve Foundation provides programs for research, uniting Scientists and Specialists from many different fields to find treatments for spinal cord injury translating them into therapies and support programs.

The Heart And Stroke Foundation

For over 60 years, Heart & Stroke has been dedicated to fighting heart disease and stroke. Our work has saved thousands of lives and improved the lives of millions of others.

The ALS Society Of BC
ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) is a progressive neuromuscular disease in which nerve cells die and leave voluntary muscles paralyzed. The ALS society provides a variety of programs to combat this disease and help those with it to survive.

Muscular Dystrophy Canada
Muscular Dystrophy Canada’s mission is to enhance the lives of those affected by neuromuscular disorders by continually working to provide ongoing support and resources while relentlessly searching for a cure through well-funded research.

Humane Society International
The Humane Society protects the health, lives and rights of animals the world over, ensuring that they too have a voice in this world. We are interdependent upon the complex web of life this entire planet over for our mutual survival. This is a world wide charity.

The Global Foodbanking Network
Ensuring that people the world over have enough food day to day in order to survive and lead healthy lives. In this challenging day and age services like this are becoming more and more essential. This is a world wide charity.

The Edgar Allan Poe Museum
Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn’t, he said he’d walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people’s heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado! 

In all truth, there’s a good chance that thanks to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Jonathan Swift, Mary Shelley, Robert Louis Stevenson, Herbert George Wells, Jules Verne, Dr. Seuss, Stephen King, Clive Barker and Pierre Burton (for The Secret World Of Og and his ground breaking interview of Bruce Lee) that all of us are literate. Actually that goes back much farther to the Phoenecians and their first 22 character system of symbols. Literacy is important. Really it is. Literally. It allows us to approach our employer at the end of the week (with a big club) and ask: where my money?! Math important too. It help us count our thirteen fingers and toes.

Wikipedia
The model for what may become the Encyclopedia Galactica, a complete reference and record of history, events and knowledge of humanity and its journey beyond. It is the encyclopedia of all that we know, what we surmise that we’ve known and will learn in the future. Yes, Wikipedia is a charitable organization of great importance. If you enjoy what I am doing here then please take the time to donate to Wikipedia. Surprisingly only 1% of Wikipedia’s users donate yet the site serves pages to millions every day.

Humble Bundle
A video gaming storefront benefiting a vast variety of different Charities in the United States and United Kingdom (hopefully soon to be expanded to include other areas of the world?). By software their software bundles and choose which Charity your money benefits and how much of your money benefits that Charity. See? Gamers can do their part too.

Multiple Sclerosis Society Of Canada

Multiple Sclerosis is a degenerative disease currently affecting an estimated 2.3 million world wide. By donating you are contributing to effective research in finding a cure and tipping the scales of MS research to change lives forever.

If you’re a resident of Ontario then please consider supporting Building Better Schools.

Other Ways To Help Using Your Computer

Join World Community Grid
https://www.worldcommunitygrid.org

Join BOINC
https://boinc.berkeley.edu

Shhhh! Digital Media Presents:

The Butterfly Dragon – Heroes of our Own: Reimagined

by Brian Joseph Johns

Episode 13: The Dragons Rise

Lefrange – Le Danters – Le FarnhamSix years ago

College Street and Bay Street

Downtown Toronto

Toronto, Ontario, Canada

[The Omegaman – The Police]

The meeting room, the second largest in the Police services building slowly filled up, as Sergeants, Detectives and their partners filed into the chairs lined up row by row in front of a podium at the head of the room. Each of the chairs had an accompanying attached desk, making the room appear more like a classroom than one being used formally for a briefing.

Detective Edward Farnham, an older man in his mid-forties, with well groomed platinum hair, and a dark blazer, white shirt and dark tie, walked over to his favourite spot near the center of the room. Behind him a younger fellow, dressed in a dark windbreaker marked DFA tried following him through the doors. One of the guards at the door, a Constable, grabbed hold of him:

“That’s far enough. Detectives and their partners or trainees only,” the Constable said to the younger man.

“Hands off. I’m his partner, Constable!” the younger man, a clean cut Indonesian fellow with gel packed hair (groomed) stood up to the guard.

“Somboon! Stand down. Officially, you aren’t Detective Farnham’s partner…” another much taller man confronted both Somboon and Farnham, the Constable guard smiling snidely at Somboon, which agitated the younger man all that much more.

“He’s worked with me on several cases, Danters. He was key to one that we solved, and if you remember correctly, that story even made the news. Your press conference I recall?” Farnham jumped in to back up Somboon.

“Look, don’t play politics with me Farnham. You report to me, and I told you three weeks that you’ve been assigned Ruthers. You purposely avoided me since then and worse still, you completely avoided Ruthers, sending my plans to complete shite. I won’t have that from a man under my command. Do you understand?!!!” Detective Sergeant Danters, another old-school cop with a thick moustache and thinning hair challenged Farnham.

“Yes sir. I understand perfectly…” Farnham responded as several other Detectives squeezed by him and Somboon, filing into the meeting room.

“Somboon, you’re to report to the Cyber Crime Unit immediately, and I don’t want to see you and Farnham working on anything together unless there’s a specific call for a DFA in the case. Do you understand?” Detective Sergeant Danters turned his attention to Somboon, who shrunk slightly before the man.

“I was only following orders, sir…” Somboon defended himself.

“…my own…” Somboon added very quietly under his breath.

“What was that?” Danters was quick to respond.

“I said I’m on my way,” Somboon replied, quietly retreating two floors down to the Cyber Crime Unit.

When Farnham turned to leave, trying to make his way into the meeting room, Danters once again confronted him.

“Farnham! You’re to work with Ruthers. Show him the ropes,” Danters asserted himself again.

“Why don’t you give him to Barry, or better yet Chuckson?” Farnham challenged Danters.

“Because I gave you a direct order. I want you to show him the ropes. That’s all Detective, unless you’d prefer traffic duty?” Danters responded, completely unwilling to budge.

“Fine. Good day Detective Sergeant… sir!” Farnham responded defiantly, immediately trying to figure out how he could get out of training Ruthers.

Farnham ventured into the meeting room and Danters followed behind him, the two men separating as Farnham ventured toward his favourite spot near the center once again, and Danters toward the podium as the last few seats in the room filled up.

When Farnham got to his favourite seat, Ruthers was already there, seated.

“Danters put you up to this?” asked Farnham of Ruthers.

“Look. I know what you’re thinking, but honestly, he told me to come directly to this seat. I hope I didn’t say anything to offend you last time, but I’m really eager to learn from the best,” Ruthers was another younger man, though older than Somboon by almost a decade. 

Farnham couldn’t believe that the man had made it through Police College, for he lacked all of the hardened edges that were often instilled not by the program, but by the social and union forces at play. Somehow, he’d managed to keep that naive innocence about him, and that irked many of his fellow officers, especially the other Detectives.

Barry just didn’t have the time or patience to take someone under his wing, let alone someone who’d cut into his weekend golf. Chuckson on the other hand was a Detective who walked the fine line of the law, often dipping into the other side both professionally and for recreation. Someone who’d become far too accustomed to the lifestyle of those he’d investigated and as a result, he’d ended up becoming like them. His personal and sexual dependencies interconnected with the blackmarket economy. Donalds was not too far behind Chuckson in this matter, hence if Ruthers had trained with either Detective, he’d be a lost cause within a decade as a result.

Farnham knew exactly why Danters had assigned Ruthers to him. It was simple. It was because despite the nature of the work, Farnham had managed to keep an even keel throughout his professional life. When the day was over, he left his work at work. When he was at home, it was his home life that concerned him. His wife. His bungalow. His backyard. His barbecue and a cold beer. 

He knew how to separate his home life from his work life. In a way to Farnham, it was kind of like when he was a kid. He used to play with action figures (before he discovered Nintendo), and quite often he’d play as a superhero. That hero often had two lives. Their life fighting crime, and their alter ego and this was a philosophy that had from an early age found its way into Farnham’s psychology. 

It helped him to keep his balance, but mostly because he lived in a community where the effort to break down those ideas had not yet arrived as it had in an ever growing list of places in the world. As the foundations of society were being secretly unraveled. He knew something was going on that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but never suspected that it would ever arrive in his community.

Danters had picked him to train Ruthers, because Farnham was able to keep this separation of home life and work life, and as a result, he never ended up becoming like Donalds or Chuckson. Both of whom were ticking time bombs of big problems that would eventually undermine the very reason they’d become involved with Police work in the first place.

By that time, the room had become silent and Danters, who was behind the podium was staring intensely at Farnham.

“Are we finished yet Detectives?” Danters said into the microphone, looking directly at Farnham.

“Looks like a lover’s quarrel,” one of the other Detectives remarked.

Farnham rolled his eyes at that particular Detective, and then looked back to Ruthers.

“There. You sit there, I sit here,” Farnham said directly to him, and Ruthers stood from his chair and took the other seat beside it.

Farnham then sat down in his and folded his arms.

“Gentlemen. I know that most of you were eager get back on your caseload this particular Friday, but as it turns out, something very important has come to the attention of our department and seeing as we’re the front line in this city between order and the disarray of lawlessness, we’re involved, whether you like it or not. So in case you had plans to check out by 3 today, maybe to hit the driving range…?” Danters looked over to Detective Mark Barry, who smirked back.

“…or maybe get out of the city and up to your cottage with your husband…?” Danters then looked over to Detective Daphne Ellisman, who looked away.

“Don’t worry Ellisman, I’ll take you there in exchange for a little favour,” one of the other Detectives Hill joked.

“I’d tie your necktie for you, but its already too small,” Detective Ellisman responded, drawing laughter from the room.

“Are we done? Good. Today, I’ve got Detective Sergeant Lucien Marcier and Detective Pierre Lefrange from the SVPM. They’ve been heading up a rather large investigation into a car theft ring that has led them to our front door. Perhaps it would be better if I let them address you,” Danters stepped aside as two men, one of them close to Danters age and similar thinning hair, the other a decade younger with a firm and clean shaven face, stepped up to the podium, the only one taking the microphone.

“Bon matin, Monsiers. I am Sergeant Dective Lucien Marcier and this is my counterpart from the SVPM, Detective Pierre Lefrange…” Marcier paused as one of the Detectives in the audience spoke up.

“I hope you brought some cheese with you for the rest of us…” Chuckson remarked, drawing both a few coughs and some laughter from the other Detectives.

“No, cheese, but plenty of poutine. I know how much you all love poo…” Marcier responded, rounding out the room in a short burst of laughter.

“In all seriousness Detectives. Detective Lefrange had been working on a case involving a car theft ring which has been operating between Ontario and Quebec for the last three to five years, and moving as many as sixty units a year. That’s a street value of between one point two and roughly six million Canadian dollars a year. Small time compared with our national figures, but still sizeable enough to draw the attention of many investigative bodies between our two fine provinces. I’m going to give you over to Detective Lefrange and he’ll explain the rest,” Marcier stepped away from the microphone and gave it over to Lefrange.

“Initially, I’d been working on what I originally thought would be a very small missing person’s case. The case of a youth from the west central Montreal area named Monique Defleur, who went missing almost a decade ago. We spoke with her parents and managed to trace her whereabouts after speaking with other witnesses at her former school, that she’d left in the company of a man known to Police as Samias Rickné, though he also sometimes uses the surname Facois. After tracing Monique’s phone activity, we discovered that they’d fled northward from the Montreal area up to northern Quebec and the town of Chibougamau. When we looked further into their new residence in that town, we had the SQ check their phone records and found evidence to indicate that they’d given us the slip. They’d employed a SIM swap attack, whereby Samias and assumedly Monique had visited a cellphone service store somewhere between Montreal and Toronto, and had obtained an illegal alternate SIM from that store, while receiving a completely new SIM provided by the store owner. We eventually had the SQ come forward and let the victims of that fraud know that they’d been duped, and helped them to secure their phone while we looked into following up on Siamias and Monique’s location…” Lefrange explained to the Detectives.

“What happened with the store who provided the SIM swap service?” asked Farnham, already having learned a bit from Somboon.

“We’ve been keeping them under surveillance ever since, but I’ll get to that in a bit. We eventually got onto Samias and Monique’s trail once again, when a trusted asset gave us his new phone number. The one he’d gotten from the cellphone service store. He’d been living with an auto-mechanic by the name of Caroon Edbedda, known as Caroona to all of his friends. He’s been running the serial number stripping operation for the car theft ring, and it was Caroona that Samias had been seeking out since leaving Montreal. Caroona apparently gave Samias and Monique an apartment, expecting Samias to pay him from the money he made stealing cars. At this point, we don’t know how involved Monique was, but we can only assume that she’s most likely not involved, though there’s a good chance that she knows quite a bit, and if apprehended, could be useful to our investigation with the right application of pressure,” Lefrange explained to the Detectives.

“Who is Caroona’s buyer?” asked Ellisman.

“That’s the part where this story takes a turn for the unexpected. As it turns out, Caroona and Samias both have contacts within the Torman family organization. A name I’m fairly certain most of you are already familiar with?” Lefrange smiled as he spoke, drawing a bit more uneasy laughter from the room.

“Caroona as it turns out, was selling to a buyer connected to the Torman clan, and it is just one tendril connected to a massive network, where car theft is only the beginning. We’re talking an extensive, country wide… possibly continent wide network,” Lefrange paused without needing to drum up effect.

“So you’re keeping this cellphone service store and its owners under surveillance for this reason?” Farnham confirmed with Lefrange.

“C’est magnifique. As it turns out, they are connected to the network and have been helping to keep the Torman clan of the radar and out of our ears,” Lefrange explained to the Detectives.

“Why not take ’em, and make ’em work for us? Fifteen years in the big house is pretty good incentive for that idea,” Detective Colson spoke up.

“They’ve been connected to this for quite some time. If we were to conduct such an operation, news would spread quickly and nobody from the Torman clan would ever use them again. They’d give us false leads and it would turn into a mess, and wouldn’t be able to prove a thing. So, we’ve been listening and collecting, and getting quite a bit from it. However, the case of Samias gets even more interesting. It turns out that he ran into difficulty obtaining a number of cars he’d been, how you say? requested to obscond with. So, he thought he’d change careers and become a sex trafficker…” Lefrange stopped and looked around the room to see if anyone caught on.

“Don’t tell us. His first trixy was Monique, right?” Farnham asked.

“C’est bon. Oui. But she wouldn’t dance for him or anyone else for that matter. A very spirited kind of girl. The kind of spirit you’d hope most daughters have when separated from their parents and family. It turns out that this girl, she’s got quite a meaty loaf between her ears. When she figured out what he was up to, she played him quite well and managed to stay out of the entire affair, while he managed to round up seventeen other women, all of whom worked directly for him, servicing his clients, while he paid them with pocket change, but mostly with narcotics…” Lefrange continued.

“Meth? Crack?” Farnham confirmed with him.

“Both. Yet, somehow, Monique managed to stay clear of that entire aspect and eventually managed to find her way away from Samias, but not without some serious fallout. She was close enough to him for the entire time to know almost everything about his and Caroona’s operation, and probably has considerable intel on Torman’s dealings with the smaller tributaries,” Lefrange took off his reading glasses for a moment and looked around the room.

“They put a hit out on her…” Ellisman spoke up first.

“Not just Caroona and Samias. The big man himself. We had someone on the inside and intercepted a considerable part of their meeting, and though Torman didn’t give the order, he was there when it was discussed. In the end, he left it up to Samias, who opted for the kill. A kill that less than a week later, and only two days ago, would be botched,” Lefrange stopped and gave the microphone back to Danters.

“That’s where we come in gentlemen. Two evenings ago, there was an attempted hit on the life of Monique Defleur as conducted by Samias Rickné. He was the only gunman, but in this botched attempt, another woman, was shot three times fatally, or so we thought. Helayne Ying was brought into Toronto General with life threatening injuries and underwent emergency surgery at twenty-three hundred hours two nights ago, and she’d been comatose and on life support ever since,” Danters began.

“You say had, as if she recovered,” Detective Frasier asked Danters.

“We received a call two hours ago that her bed had been entirely vacated. There are signs that the window might have been used to get her out of the building, but who would do that? What’s the motive to remove her from a hospital and let alone, through a window? If they cared enough about her to try and revive her, then they’d have likely left her in the care of the hospital. From an analysts standpoint, this points to the possibility of vengeance on the part of the Torman clan or someone connected to it. Regardless, we have a number of accomplices from the attempted assassination of Monique Defleur in our custody, but none of the big players. Helayne Ying’s well being might be at severe risk gentlemen, as whomever took her might attempt to make an example of her in order to frighten Monique into maintaining her silence before they’re able to silence her. And they definitely will. That’s the word from the Behavioural Sciences team of the RCMP on this matter,” Danters looked to his Detectives and trainees throughout the room.

“There is also the matter of a connection between this, and the mysterious blonde haired woman who has been witnessed at every crime scene where industrial and commercial sabotage was employed in what we suspect to be connected to Torman’s operation. She is most likely working for Torman, and assisting in sabotaging these companies so that Torman can buy them cheap, and then sell them after inflating their net worth. The connection is that blondie was at the scene of the attempted assassination of Monique Defleur, when Helayne Ying was shot,” Danters looked around the room once again.

“So where does this confusing mess leave us, Detective Sergeant?” Chuckson asked, very obviously kissing ass with his use of formal rank.

“He wants us to find Helayne Ying, and bring in… blondie. Right?” asked Ruthers of Danters.

“We need all three of them. Helayne Ying. Monique Defleur and blondie. I want us to have this wrapped up before Monday morning. Its Friday at ten in the morning now. You’ve got the weekend to solve this mystery and find these women. I’ve given every single one of you access to the case details and intelligence provided by Sergeant Detective Lucien Marcier and Detective Pierre Lefrange. Your other cases are to remain on hold until next week. Do I make myself clear to you?!” Danters asked the men in the room.

“Sir, yes sir,” the men responded half enthusiastically and certainly more frustrated by this turn of events.

The inconvience of its timing more so than the fact that there was the potential of lives at risk.

“Dismissed, and Chuckson? By Monday. No later!” Danters spoke harshly to Chuckson, but it was clear he was referring to everyone in the meeting room.

“Lets take a look and figure out where our first stop is…” Farnham told Ruthers as they filed out of the meeting room.

“Why not the site of the hit?” asked Ruthers.

“Too obvious. Lets talk with the accomplices in holding. See what we can get from them,” Farnham overrode Ruthers.

“Lets,” Ruthers smiled, all too eager to be working his first big case with the Detectives.

The Dragons Awaken

In the first light of morning and under the fading star of the night that had just passed, a large reptile crept its way slowly through the vegetation of the solarium. When it reached the impact resistant glass overlooking the bay, it stopped and positioned itself, exposing its full body to the window in anticipation of the coming day. The sun warmed its hide quickly and it remained stationary from that moment forward, its only eye facing the window, occasionally flickering with the sight of nearby birds in the sky.

The shadows were long and far beneath the compound, the palm trees etched the surrounding landscape, broken only by the roads, trails and footpaths used to travel by the residents and visitors who currently resided upon this lost island paradise in the South Pacific.

There was little activity at that time of seventh thirty ad meridiem, and what activity there was mostly consisted of the occasional armed security patrol of the compound, or along the footpaths and roads further along the span of the island, that occupied by the tourists, there was to be found bicyclists and joggers out for their morning jaunt.

 There were a few cars, mostly workers for the island’s hospitality services driving to work from their residence in the village of Pueblo Pequeño. A small town composed entirely of hospitality workers, and the businesses and services that supported them, not to mention a few amenities as well. Mostly legal, but a few others questionable. However, there was one strict rule that all of the residents lived by, and that was that nothing should ever interfere with the tourists’ enjoyment of the island. If by chance one’s own issues brought dissatisfaction or disdain to one of the guests, that was a sure way to remove oneself from the hospitality industry’s employ.

From that point, there were only two safety nets. One could then hope they could find work in one of the amenities servicing the hospitality workers, such as at a grocery store or dry cleaners, providing much needed services to the hospitality workers to keep the tourist industry running smoothly. Those who worked in the amenities, were very careful for they knew they were always two steps away from expulsion from the island or possibly even worse.

If by chance, an amenities worker had angered one of the hospitality workers enough, they might be removed from their job and the only remaining safety net let was that of the questionable and illegal services provided to some of the hospitality workers. Because this was the absolute last rung on the proverbial ladder, it was the closest to slavery, for every hospitality worker on the island knew that those employed in those areas, were on their last leg. If they messed up, it was expulsion as I stated, or far worse.

There had been few over the course of the tourist island’s existence who had fallen that far, and of those who did, there were far fewer that actually found the lesser of the two fates.

Hence, as a worker for the hospitality industry of Treadwater Island, you were safest while you were three rungs from the bottom. One, two, three.

Ironically enough, if one should advance beyond that position, their progression was just as perilous, for there were only three rungs above them before the ladder ran out, including the rung they occupied as hospitality workers. 

They might end up in Management. Wielding power and responsibility over their former coworkers, which could in some ways be a benefit or a detriment, depending upon how much your staff respected you. In the best of cases, where one wasn’t respected by their staff, they might hope that they somehow manage a promotion to the next tier. Upper Management.

The Upper Management were the overseers of Managers, and often the implementers of the plans that came down the hierarchy from the tier above them. They’d arrange for festivals, parties and any other sorts of organized activities that would help keep the tourists returning to the famous Treadwater Island Resort. Those plans only went as well as could be yielded through the cooperation of Managers. If the Managers had it out for you as Upper Management, the gravity of demotion might become a threat, and assuming that you’d not accumulated momentum with that regard from your former coworkers, you might land on your feet and remain a hospitality worker. Perhaps scorned by your coworkers for a time until your penance had been paid, but that was far less a fate than those who kept falling, and falling until they hit the last rung. And then…

Above Upper Management, there were those who reported directly to him.

Of those who worked in this top tier, there were some who over a bottle of tequila might have described dealing with him, akin to staring into the caldera of an active volcano, ever fearful that what had been stated by your person might trigger an eruption.

Though he was very seldom angry, and almost never lost his temper or cool, his decree could spell your end far more quickly and easily than following off of the bottom rung in this awkwardly dangerous and stressful social order.

Rumour had it that there was a graveyard on the island, that held the body of every betrayer. The body of everyone who’d failed to achieve their orders or the requirements of their employ. For the bottom rung, this often meant those who dabbled in one of the three dos and don’ts that he’d set down in law:

The Dos

1. Always look after your customers.
   
   This was his way of saying, the customer always comes first, though it had hidden meanings. For example, it didn’t just refer to the tourists. As an employee, your employer is your customer as much so as it was for any exchange. Of those who’ve paid for your goods or services, honour the value thereof and appropriately.
   
   
2. Always keep a polite and composed demeanor.
   
   He’d always rationalized that the extent to which we’re civil is the truest indication of our intent and character. When we lose rationality and tend towards more visceral means, the structure of order is strained in a most harmful way. Both by the deed itself and by the example it sets to others.
   
   
3. Always perform the duties your level of responsibility entails.
   
   Responsibility was what defined the expression of our intent into the world, and how we achieved it. Everyone has responsibility in one form or another, and when that responsibility is connected to the structures that maintain Treadwater Island, they are of the highest importance.
   
   One of these duties they were all required, was indicated by their means of employ. Always maintain the secrets at one’s level of responsibility in this hierarchy. If everyone did as such he ascertained, then the guarded structure of his island paradise would most certainly remain. More importantly, the one who followed this order would be far less likely to expire.

The Don’ts

1. Never under the influence on duty.
   
   Consumption shortly before or while on duty he strictly forbade, for to him it was the surest way to skew one’s own perceptions and senses in the most ineffectual of ways. How could a tour bus operator ever hope to drive if under the influence of any of a number of substances? Such consumption was strictly prohibited while on, or shortly before their duty.
   
   
2. Never cheat your fellows out of their due.
   
   Those who worked and resided on the island, enjoyed their due. Their pay for their work for one, as it allowed them to enjoy the privilege their labour had afforded them. Their peace during their leisure time another was another of their due. Those who attempted to abscond with either, could find themselves quickly ejected from the comfort of the island, and possibly learn the location of said secret graveyard shortly before their demise and permanent disappearance.
   
   
3. Never disobey the orders of the one in charge.
   
   Society has a structure he asserted, and that structure a hierarchy. The leaders should lead, and follow the direction of the leaders above them. It was a very simple idea and one that maintained that structure.
   
   The hospitality workers were at the center of this ecosystem, following the orders of their Managers, while giving orders to those who provided their amenities. This concept functioned exactly the same in both directions from their station. The Managers directed the workers, and obeyed the Upper Managers, who in turn obeyed him.
   
   The amenity providers obeyed the hospitality workers (and every other above them), while at the bottom of this hierarchy, those on the last rung obeyed them all while none obeyed them. Those who sold the substances that some of the workers enjoyed, including the substance of sexuality in the form of prostitution, for even Treadwater Island Resort had this very secretive amenity. An amenity whose place in this hierarchy remained at the very bottom of everything and most who were employed in such a manner had fallen through the rungs to arrive at that destination. Most were former hospitality workers, but there were a handful of former Managers, and even two former Upper Managers. All fallen from their grace and now equal in status at the bottom.
   
   Amongst those who worked for him, there was a saying: Be neither too appealing nor unappealing. Akin to the addage the pretty bird gets the cage.
   
   Amongst the workers who’d realized the power of their collective, the only power they had other than that afforded them via his rules, though not nearly enough to depose him, if they found one of their coworkers too appealing, especially in a sexual manner, the collective might work together to push that one down the rungs to the bottom, so they’d eventually end up the as the the sexual product for the workers’ pleasure.
   
   The women and men whom had fallen to that point, were at their wits end, though they’d always be safe as long as they never disobeyed the orders of the one in charge, which literally meant everyone above them. If they did, then you might refer to my mention of the hidden graveyard whose location on Treadwater Island was one of its most well guarded secrets.

He’d carefully crafted this island paradise over the course of a decade, having bought the island shortly after its discovery as a recent arrival in the South Pacific, scientists speculated. With his vast fortune, he’d constructed a self-contained society built on the tennemen of the tourist, and maintained by a hierarchy that rewarded loyalty, service and obedience. The riches of privilege and pleasure were afforded those who followed these rules, while the tourists simply had no idea of the structure that had been built to service their needs.

This of course begged the question, did the services that hospitality workers enjoy find their way to the menu for tourists? No. He always kept the two separate, reasoning that they came from a different world than the one he’d created, though there were times when visiting ‘dignitaries’ from the outside world, as he’d refer to them, would enjoy the absolute best of those hidden services to which his employees had access. It was a currency to him, and one that helped maintain the power and secrecy of his Island of the Empire.

Secrets. Dirty secrets. They were the power to rule the world.

At that same moment that the Komodo Dragon had found its way to the bay windows of the solarium in his office, he’d stepped out of bed in his pajamas, and retrieved his silk robe from the closet in his slippered feet.

“Madrina? Would you make sure that the kitchen staff have my breakfast on the table by the time I’m in the dining room ten minutes from now ?” Alomera Constanza Zekestes spoke aloud in his bedroom.

There was a momentary pause and then from the electrostatic speakers built into the walls of his bedroom, a voice emerged as if from everywhere:

“I’ve notified the staff and they’ve got a real treat for you this morning. How are you? Did you sleep well?” a woman’s voice responded, mature, well spoken and ever so slightly a sensual ambivalence to her tone.

“Very. I watched the stars for a good deal last night. I fell asleep watching Jupiter and Saturn dancing in the sky. It was both magnificent and sickening at the same time,” Zekestes responded, both inspired and appalled.

“Would you like to know what’s happening in the world today?” asked Madrina, through the wall speakers.

“Have it ready on my Auto-Papyrus for me. I’m just on my way to my office now,” Zekestes retrieved his favourite reading glasses from the night table and then headed towards the elevator doors.

They opened as he approached (his private elevator was programmed to wait for him outside of his bedroom in the morning), and he spoke a single word.

“Office,” he spoke aloud.

The elevator traveled at an angle of sixty degrees along the side of an almost pyramidal shaped building, the upper most floors of which were entirely made of impact resistant glass. They shone and reflected the Sun’s light, but not nearly enough to pose a threat to low flying aircraft or other vehicles. They’d been sided with a special coating that nullified their reflection substantially, which did not detract from its overall magnificence when viewed by the tourists from nearest station of the resort a kilometer and a half away.

The elevator slowed and stopped, the doors opening and presenting Zekestes office. He stepped from the elevator and found his way to his desk, taking a seat and pulling what appeared to be a folded newspaper from its surface.

When he opened the newspaper, its surface flickered momentarily and an animated logo slid across from the sides. It read: Auto-Papyrus: Authentic Reading Experiences.

After it had quickly booted (the paper itself was just a complex wireless receiver, while the actual hardware was a part of his complex’ supercomputer. The headlines appeared on the front page, which he saw after folding the paper once again and viewing as most had in the old days.

“Madrina, could you zoom in on this story about a conflict in Toronto? Apparently there was some form of altercation and property damage near Torman’s office location. Could you layout all the related news stories to my paper here?” he requested of his supercomputer powered AI Assistant.

Barely a second after Zekestes had requested it, the newpaper had rearranged itself and now was filled only with stories pertaining to Alicia’s encounter with Valerie, and then with all the reports of sightings of a large and mysterious butterfly that had been seen flying along the Gardener Expressway.

“Drac? I think that you will be most amused by today’s news for it appear that the dragons have awoken,” Zekestes smiled, looking over to the solarium where the Komodo lay bathing in the sun.

Upon his referencing its name, it hissed at him, and then cacked twice, almost as if it were laughing.

“I knew you’d be amused. Well perhaps it is time the rest of us dragons get in on this fray. There’s a world to be taken and a structure to be enforced,” Zekestes folded his newspaper, knowing that young Torman’s adventure was truly about to begin.

Warehouse Warpath

[Chasing Butterflies – Luna Li]

Myung stood by the door to Helayne’s condo unit, Aikiko beside her as they waited for Monique to get clean her face and quickly put on some makeup.

“Uhhhh, is this going to take long???” Myung raised her voice slightly, addressing Monique, who stood in Helayne’s main bathroom quickly wiping down her face and applying some foundation.

“Just another minute!” Monique lied to her.

“That’s what you said two minutes ago!” Myung responded.

“What do you expect? She’s a model,” Aikiko added with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

“She certainly gives a whole new meaning to the term model citizen,” Myung joked, drawing a playful smirk from Aikiko.

“Where are you guys?” Alicia’s voice came through on their smartphones’ headsets.

“Have you ever had a guy get upset having to wait while you put on your face?” asked Myung of Alicia.

“Not really…” Alicia responded, completely unable to relate given her distinct life path.

“I have,” Helayne interjected.

“Well, we’re getting our first taste of it while the shoe is on the other foot… ahem…” Myung explained to them through her headset.

A moment later Monique came running out of the bathroom and slipped into her sneakers, where she began jogging on the spot.

“What are you doing?” asked Aikiko of her.

“I’m a jogger! Its my cover!” Monique responded, still bouncing up and down as she jogged on the spot.

“Well jog yourselves out of my condo and down here to the waterfront. Alicia and I are in position. And make sure Monique locks the door,” Helayne reminded Myung.

“Did you get that Monique?” asked Aikiko of her.

“Just the tail end. Just got my headset in and I’m rarin’ to go!” Monique smiled, and jogged out the front door as Myung opened it.

“You’d better not do that on the elevator…” Myung said as she stepped out of Helayne’s condo,  Aikiko just behind her.

“Why?” asked Monique.

“On an elevator? Jogging? I have motion sickness. I’ve had it since I was three…” Myung explained to Monique as she locked Helayne’s condo.

The three of them made their way to the elevator, very much fitting in with one another.

…

[Nobody’s Home – Avril Lavigne]

Alicia had removed her mask and folded the inside of her jacket up and towards her shoulders, so it appeared like a stylish waist coat, despite her adhoc disguise of her disguise.

She rounded the north east corner of the warehouse and worked her way around the side wall towards the south, where the entrance was to be found. She stuck close to the wall without looking too conspicuous, while some of the pedestrians along the harbourfront watched her with with puzzlement.

“Its a prank! Shhhh!” Alicia whispered to those pedestrians, who nodded affirmatively and with a smile, then ignoring her from that point forward as she snuck along the wall.

“Are you almost by the entrance?” asked Helayne of Alicia.

“Just arriving at the corner…” Alicia stepped out carefully from the corner, but spotted a large man in a suit, outside of the warehouse standing guard. She quickly dipped back behind the corner just as he was about to spot her.

“That was close. They’ve got a guard out front. A big guy. In a suit…” Alicia told Helayne.

“In a suit? You mean like ours?” Helayne confirmed with her.

“No! I mean like a shirt and tie. An underling suit,” Alicia responded correctively.

“What’s an underling?” Helayne asked once again, all of this slang very new to her.

“They’re at the top of the henchmen ecosystem of criminal masterminds like Torman. They’re below the mastermind, but above the goons and thugs,” Alicia once again explained to Helayne.

“…and where would minions be on your comic book model of criminal organizations?” Helayne asked her, now thoroughly confused in trying to keep up with Alicia’s reasoning.

“Minions are like the kiss-ups of the mastermind… Like an entourage…” Alicia answered.

“Entourage? Alright. I get it. Where’d you learn all of this anyway?” Helayne nodded, being very familiar with those from her fashion experience.

“You learn a lot when you’re doing the solo gig as a costumed hero you know. I’ve already got like close to a year under my belt,” Alicia reminded Helayne.

“Alright Sensei. Just keep that in mind when we storm this place. This is my first day on the job…” Helayne replied modestly and jokingly.

“Newbie!” Aikiko responded over her headset.

“That’s Sifu Newbie to you,” Helayne responded.

“Would you three cut it out! Forget about the seniority for now. We need to play as a team,” Myung interjected thoughtfully.

Aikiko walked over to one of the city benches, just beside a planter nearest Lake Ontario, whose waters shimmered brightly under the summer sun. She withdrew a tiny adhoc laptop that she’d design and assembled herself, and a moment later the Linux kernal was booting in front of her, the warehouse only twenty meters away.

“What are you doing? We don’t have time for Nintendo or Pokeman!” Myung followed her and found her place beside Aikiko, looking to the front coern of the warehouse and spotting the man just outside its front doors.

“There’s always time for Nintendo. Pokeman? There’s a time and a place for that. Besides, I’m more like hack-y gurl. I’m looking for a way to disable those motion sensing alarms,” Aikiko responded.

“What alarms?” asked Alicia.

“I noticed from the outside of the building that they’ve got a non-standard alarm infrastructure. Some pretty advanced stuff. It has identity based motion tracking, so if your identity profile is not part of their database, that will trigger the alarm. Wouldn’t want you stepping into a trap now, would we?” Aikiko responded as her fingers flew across keys, their stead click audible to Myung.

[Complicated – Avril Lavigne]

“Good catch. Myung, I’d suggest you let her do her stuff, but you could keep watch of that guy outside for me,” Alicia replied over their common channel.

“You mean the hunk? Oh, please don’t make me keep an eye on him. Pleeeease,” Myung responded happily.

“Uhhhh, Alicia, this black trench coat and hat is getting a tad bit hot. Not to mention, its over my suit. So, are we going to do this?” asked Helayne.

“I’m thinking. How can we get this guy away from the door?” asked Alicia, pondering the question.

“Why don’t you use your other superpower. The one all women have over men?” Aikiko suggested, as she typed.

“What? The keeping the toilet seat down thing?” Alicia responded, very much confused.

“No, not that one. The other one. The innocent, flirtatious charm. The ability to express complete interest in those they’re trying to charm,” Aikiko continued.

“I’ll do it,” Myung offered.

“I have no doubt that you could, but I think it would be better if Alicia did it. She’s driven by something else altogether different. The absolute necessity of getting that formula back. She knows the stakes just as well as Helayne. Alicia should do it,” Aikiko responded assertively.

“How long have we got, Aikiko?” Alicia asked her.

“About a minute. Maybe more. They’ve got some pretty thick countermeasures going on here,” Aikiko continued typing as she responded, watching the screen carefully as the firewall responded with exception codes.

Alicia took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. 

“Alright. I am a woman. I can do this. I – can – do – this,” she recited to herself, almost like a mantra and when she’d reached the peak of her confidence, she strutted herself casually, taking the corner, armed with nothing but a disarming smile and the halo of her beauty.

The guard, was a bit larger than she’d first anticipated, almost appearing Herculean to her, and she realized why he’d been hired for the job. Nonetheless, she kept her smile and casually approached him, moving her lower quarter in a rhythmic sway that gave her body a sort of serpentine appeal, and from there she went with it.

“Hi,” she smiled at him as she approached.

His response was immediate and firm.

“You’re not supposed to be here, lady,” he responded in a deep and commanding voice as he straightened up his posture, as if to present himself much taller and forboding. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Alicia.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m lost. I’m a tourist, and I was told that this is the is the location of the harbour front museum. I’m a graduate of the urban planning program in Bodden, Germany and the civil engineering program in Cambridge, UK. Actually a teacher, though I’ve worked in accounting too. This building is one of the marvels of the architecture world…” Alicia took a moment to take her eyes away from him, looking to the verticality of the box shaped warehouse longingly, and then back to him twice as much the same.

He looked at her, somewhat confused, his eyes darting back and forth between the building and her.

“Look. Lady, this building is just a f#cking…” he began before she interrupted him.

“…one of the world marvels into the wonder of cubic architecture. I mean, look at its dimensions. This is a building whose very foundations, when factored in relation to the three dimensions, actually naturally produce transcendental numbers. For instance, if you take the ratio of the breadth to the height, you get Pi,” Alicia spoke confidently, bluffing everything she said but with confidence and authority.

“You were born for this, gurl,” Aikiko blurted out through the headset, still typing.

“Breadth?” the guard asked her.

“Yes. Breadth,” Alicia purposely projected her modest upperbody seductively, and he took notice of her gesture.

“Oh… that breadth. Pie is good too, with a little coffee,” he added with a smile, now feeling aroused by her.

“However, the real interesting part is that when you take the width and factor it against the height, you end up with the golden ratio. Did you know that the most erogenous zone on a woman’s body follows this rule of thirds. Of the golden ratio,” Alicia smiled charmingly at him.

“Lady, I’m still at the breadth and pie part. Whoa, let me catch up a bit,” he responded to her.

“Alicia, you’ve landed yourself a real poet,” Monique interjected, still jogging around the harbour front and trying to remain obscure.

Alicia knew at that point that she had him, hook line and sinker, and so she took the next step as Helayne waited around the corner on the other side, the heat starting to take its toll on her.

“Could I see the inside of this masterpiece of architecture? I promise I won’t interfere with whatever serious work of your fellow associates, and then maybe, we could slip away for some pie?” she winked at him.

Though she kept her smile, she suddenly felt very dirty.

He fanned his face with his hand, keeping a friendly but restrained smile on his face.

“I don’t know… I don’t think the boss would like that…” he replied cautiously.

“Alicia, the security system’s down! Sayonara. Its an android counting electric sheep as of now,” Aikiko exclaimed over the headset.

“Just the inside. Through those doors, and I’ll take a look around for the architect’s plaque, take a photo, and we’ll be gone,” Alicia moved closer to him, even taking the chance to grab hold of the breasts of his suit blazer.

“Aikiko, are the cameras down?” asked Helayne.

“Just checking that now… they’re clear,” Aikiko replied, now much like Myung, keeping an eye on Alicia and the guard. Though for both of them, more so the guard’s hind quarters.

“Just the inside. Right through those doors, and no further. I think the plaque is on the left side. Here, let me show you,” the guard responded.

“What’s your name by the way? I mean if we’re going to be close friends, per se, a girl should know. Right?” asked Alicia him, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Right. I’m Geraldo,” he extended his hand to her.

“I’m… Evette,” Alicia replied, gently placing her hand upon his.

“Alright Evette. I think we’re good, right? I mean, what could a little girl like you do to a big guy like me?” he responded to her.

“Oh, I could make you very happy many times over,” Alicia fought every urge in herself to cringe, her mind purely on Norler at this point.

“I bet,” and with that, Geraldo turned and used his keycard to open the door, though which both he and Alicia stepped, and before the door had closed, Helayne had caught it in her hand.

“Monique, keep watch for us. Aikiko, Myung? You’re our backup,” Helayne said as she held the door, making sure that Geraldo and Alicia were well into the building before she proceeded.

The interior through the foyer was well lit, and with brightly painted drywall, which covered the seventy five year old masonry beneath. Alicia observed the motion detectors as Aikiko had indicated, and their operating LED illuminated red as they moved into the building, as if to say ‘see you, wouldn’t want to be you’, though miraculously as Aikiko had stated, no further alarm of their awareness arose beyond that. When Geraldo moved in their midst, they illuminated green. When Alicia had observed this, she felt a sort of terror, hoping that he wasn’t aware of the technical details of the motion sensing system, or its ability to distinguish between friend or foe.

“The plaque’s right there. Some Johnny guy or something,” Geraldo broke the silence, though himself speaking quietly, for he was already breaking his employer’s rules by allow her in.

Alicia kneeled before the plaque and read it:

John Macintosh Lyle

An apt engineering crew.

A will to guide it as such.

A sound 1951 build for all.

Alicia took a moment and sighed at the messenger’s words on this signpost from across time.

Behind her, Geraldo was suddenly and violently hoisted in the air and slammed against the wall, which he subsequently slid down and fell unconscious and most beneficially, unmoving.

“Why’d you do that?” Alicia stood up and saw Helayne before her, quickly ripping off her disguise and revealing the full scaled costume beneath. Helayne retrieved her mask and then placed it on her face, making sure it was snug.

“We had no clue if he was given the formula or not. I used just enough force without causing serious harm. He’ll be alright. Don’t you think you should exercise the same caution, Nebishly Smart girl?” Helayne joked with Alicia, pointing to the NS embroidered on her chest.

“They have four in their possession. Each one has four applications if they stretch it out. That’s sixteen possible super-baddies they could make,” Alicia explained to Helayne as she got to her feet.

By that time, Helayne had removed her trench coat and hat, and had donned her red mask, her body now covered in the red and yellow scale armour of her costume.

“Oh, right,” Alicia responded by grabbing her mask and flipping down the back of her own black trench coat, and with that, the both of them were once again as costumed vigilantes.

“I was beginning to feel sorry for him… But I get your point. Its sad, really,” Alicia shook her head as she looked to Geraldo, asleep on the floor.

“Oh, and between you and me, my chest crest was actually supposed to mean New Scientist,” Alicia responded.

“From your performance out there I would have thought it meant Nerdishly Sexy. Well done my highschool tutor,” Helayne smiled at her.

“Just watch and learn. You’ll be ready when you can snatch the pebble from my hand…” Alicia responded as she turned and they ventured into the warehouse.

As they proceeded in through the halls of the front office, they heard the sound of two men talking, their voices getting louder as they approached.

Helayne immediately grabbed Alicia and flew up, pinning her against the ceiling on her back, while Helayne facing the floor watched as two of Torman’s men passed beneath her, stopping almost directly under her and Alicia.

“What happened to Gerry? He was supposed to be doing this route,” one of the men said.

“You know him. Put him in the sunshine and in a place thick with women and the guy doesn’t want to budge. He’s probably out front chasing a date,” the other one responded.

“Alright team two, no sign of where that sound came from. We’re just going the check the front and we’ll be back…” the first of Torman’s guards looked up as he finished his sentence, to see Helayne’s masked face smiling at them.

The other man quickly tugged on the strap of his SMG, bringing it to bear upon the two of them. At that moment, and almost as if an instantaneous reflex reaction, Helayne’s skin became armoured, appearing almost like her costume. Golden scales now covering the entirety of her body just as the first burst of rounds erupted from the SMG.

She fell onto the gunner, screaming as she did while Alicia rolled from Helayne’s back and was up and on her feet in one move. Helayne used the momentum that gravity had so graciously given her to pull the gunman to the floor, head first, ramming him instantly unconscious as the second guard retreated around the corner of the hall in the direction of the front door.

“There goes that plan! What happened to stealthy butterfly?” Aikiko said as she and Myung heard the sound of gunfire.

“Aikiko! There’s one on his way to you! Get him at the front door, but be careful. He’s armed!” Alicia exclaimed as she turned and proceeded further into the warehouse.

“Where are you going?!!!” Myung asked her, as she and Aikiko took either side of the front door with their quick ambush, Myung’s legs starting to tremble at the thought of taking on someone armed with a gun.

“Focus Myung. Focus!” Aikiko exclaimed to her friend.

Myung nodded, taking a deep breath and holding it, letting the air out slowly. 

“They definitely heard that gunfire in the warehouse. They could be sneaking out through a back window for all we know. We can’t let them get away,” Alicia exclaimed in response.

“I’m right behind you Alicia. Remember, stay away from him. I’ve got him. Just keep muscle girl busy until we can both take her down, together,” Helayne replied.

“And Monique? Stay clear, alright?” Helayne continued.

“Sure thing boss!” Monique responded, still jogging her way around the front corner of the warehouse as the front door flew open, revealing a man brandishing an SMG.

Harbourfront Blockade

(An Hour Earlier)

Torman paced the back corner office of the warehouse with a phone in his hand, checking the rest of the warehouse out through the large bay window to make sure that everything was alright.

“…no, we’re still on schedule. We’ll be done here in another forty minutes,” Torman spoke into the phone, finishing up his business before the next part of his plan could unfold.

“Honey? They’re going to show up with the law,” Valerie interjected as she watching him striding back and forth from her place leaning against a wall nearest the bay window.

“Val, I already told you. We’re on the side of the law. They’re the crooks, we’re the heroes in this story,” Torman stressed to her.

“Torman, you almost killed that family in their car. If we hadn’t saved them, they’d be dead and you’d be a murderer,” Valerie reminded him, unable to keep it contained within herself for she could not believe that the man she’d loved would ever do something so horrible as that.

She’d tried rationalizing his actions in every way imaginable (and a few that weren’t). Every time however it always came back to the same thing. He’d made choices, and then taken action, that contradicted everything she believed about one’s civil conduct in society. Not so detached as to be autonomous. Ie. bad equals avoid, good equals do, but rather the idea that her own mate could be so self centered and selfish that the value he placed upon the lives of others was next to none. He simply did not care for anyone except for himself.

The moment she’d realized that, was one of the most difficult moments she’d ever faced. She immediately felt nauseated, the contents of her stomach trying several times to prematurely exit through her mouth. She held it all down and kept her composure so as not to arouse his suspicions. She might have had abilities that made her perpetually unstoppable, but next to his abilities, she did not stand a chance.

“How long before we leave?” she asked him.

“Another forty minutes. No more. I promise,” Torman responded.

“You couldn’t just take us directly past those forty minutes, could you?” she asked him.

“I don’t think it works that way, honey. Its like, in every moment, I see an infinity of tendrils branching off. Some go forwards. Some go backwards. Some I have no idea where or when they go. Its like me asking you: ‘you’re really strong, could you just grab hold of me and jump all the way to the Pacific?” Torman responded, as his phone rang again.

She nodded, committing what he’d revealed to memory. She might need it to survive what was sure to come. 

“MissieG? How are you?” Torman answered the phone in a purposely friendly tone, already knowing what kind of conversation they’d be having when he’d read her name on his phone’s display.

“Don’t give me that sh#t! You owe me money! For the sabotage job? For the hit on that Chinese girl?” MissGvious’ furious voice hit the speaker like a wrestler hitting fodder.

“Oh, you mean those two failed jobs? I only pay for achievement, not failure, little girl,” Torman spoke in a purposely condescending manner.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I’m going to come down there with my crew and knock some sense into you!” MissGvious responded, a vile hatred of the man in her present demeanor.

…

Farnham paced Interrogation Room C at the 40 College Street Police Service headquarters, remaining part of the background. Almost a Shakespearian performer, offstage, just waiting for his cue.

Ruthers on the other hand sat across from StagZ, the nom de plume etched across his forearm in the ink of a street artist’s tattoo. If StagZ were standing in front of one of the grafitti etched buildings in the hood, his tattoos would essentially have been camouflage.

“Yo? We going to get this going?” he asked Ruthers, who leaned back casually, examining StagZ fingernails and spotting the telltale signs of a smoker. Yellow stained cuticles. He looked casually to StagZ’ basketball jersey, and observed tiny burn holes in his shirt, whose origins could have possibly originated via multiple potential means.

Ruthers considered the man’s appreciable health and build, and came to the conclusion that StagZ didn’t use any smokable narcotics. He was in fact just a plain old fashioned cigarette smoker, but one with a propensity for maintaining an immenses muscular frame.

Ruthers then reasoned that he did so (smoked cigarettes) most likely as a means to put his brothers at ease, as he was somewhat of a clean fellow. Obviously not willing to play as hard as some, so the only  social assurance he had was to put that risk to the wiles of an occasional cigarette, meaning that he had a vice.

Ruthers himself, much like Farnham, found it to be a disgusting habit, however it was still one that had loyal dedication, especially amongst the old schoolers of the Detective world. The kind of men who loved their favourite bar. The kind of men who regularly drank three, sometimes four finger shots of the expensive stuff (often a flavourful glass of Macallan), just so they could assure themselves of some form of cultured and civil behaviour.

So when Ruthers pulled a fresh pack from his pocket, Farnham was already onto him, even thinking, good call for a dead ringer for Glen Gould.

Ruthers slowly unwrapped the fresh pack, not even paying attention to StagZ, for he already knew the effect that being a witness to that ceremony was having upon the man. StagZ leaned back, and folded his arms across his chest (he was protecting himself, indicating he felt vulnerable).

Ruthers tossed the plastic wrapping to the floor, and then opened the package, lifting the lid and removing the foil covering. The scent of a freshly opened pack quickly caught StagZ’ senses, and he felt his heart rate increase, for Ruthers knew that the first thing they relieved him of when checking him in was his cigarettes, for Ruthers himself had planned it that way.

Ruthers popped a cigarette into his mouth, and pulled a brand new lighter from his pocket, and lit it. Miraculously, the Glenn Gould look alike managed to keep himself from bursting out coughing, and essentially pulled of the perfect performance. StagZ looked on and then looked away, mumbling something under his breath.

“How many vehicles were you and your friends operating that night?” asked Ruthers of StagZ.

“Just a car. A sedan. We was out looking for some fun, when we saw a car parked in the back of Crocodile Rock. So we thought we’d check it out, yo,” StagZ responded, not daring to look at Ruthers, as his nicotine urge peaked.

“Crocodile Rock is closed. There isn’t even a Crocodile Rock anymore, unless you’re an old fogie like my partner here, listening to Elton in the wee hours with a bottle,” Ruthers played it smoothly, taking an opportunity to illustrate the divide to their subject.

“Watch it smart ass! At least I don’t need a smart phone just to remember my wife’s birthday for me. Why don’t you do yourself a favour, and kiss your yellow brick road goodbye,” Farnham quickly shot back, and the divide was clearly etched, and StagZ nodded, realizing that he had an upper hand.

“It was where that place used to be. Some crazy chick musta bought it, cause when me and my friends got out… just to check things out, she and her friends stepped off the dock and started shouting some crazy assed racist stuff at us. We were just defending ourselves, in the wrong place and the wrong time, and she and her friends come out there in the parking lot behind the place, throwing around some crazy assed martial arts sh#t… and my brothers come out of nowhere and then I hear gunfire and I was like… we’re actually winning,” StagZ recalled erroneously.

“Impossible! Four guys taking on six other women, and two painters, one of them, the one you and your friends didn’t ixnay, was quite beefy, and you’re telling me that you there were only four of you? One car?” Farnham quickly jumped in, ready to drag StagZ across the table and give him an old fashioned beating.

Ruthers immediately stood and pushed Farnham, with force, against the wall nearest the door.

“Give the guy some slack. Does the word circumtstantial mean anything to you?” Ruthers reminded his partner.

“Yes. It does. It means the same thing as PMS. Permission for ManSlaughter. Its a scapegoat, and you’re defending an accomplice to murder one,” Farnham responded, leaning into his words and pressing against Ruthers with his chest and pushing him back.

“Two counts, until we confirm the girl’s location,” Ruthers reminded Farnham.

“Lets call it that. That’s two consecutive life sentences. Either way, he’s spending the rest of his life as Big Bubba’s wife. In prison together, until death do them part…” Farmham looked over to StagZ with such a fierce look on his face, that StagZ looked away.

“You’re way off course here. We’re trying to find truth here,” Ruthers remained calm, his voice harbouring a compassionate plea there within.

“You see! This is exactly why I didn’t want to take you under my f#cking wing in the first place! You are not f#cking Detective material, and never will be. Why don’t you go out and get a f#cking piano and play Bach, like the guy whose face you so obviously borrowed. At least he was honest about it,” Farmham exclaimed the Ruthers, then turning the interrogation room door, opening it, and slamming it shut so furiously hard that the hardened aluminum bezel of the observation camera even popped off and fell to the floor.

Ruthers ignored it, and instead returned to the table, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what to do. I thought I was doing what we were supposed to be doing, but apparently not…” Ruthers said, his eyes focused upon the table, and then he tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, dropping the inch long heater that had grown upon it.

“No man. You got it. You got the stuff man. Look, if you give me one of those, and keep me out of the big house, I’ll give you the names of the guys in the van…” StagZ quickly reached for opportunity to save his own hide.

Ruthers by that point had already drawn a cigarette for StagZ, and handed it to him, still retaining the same lost and listless look upon his face.

“But without their current twenty, we’re not going to be able to stop the momentum of the case that’s already being built against you three. Where were they going after that? Where’s their downtown hangout? If we don’t have that, then I’ve failed as a cop, and you’re going away for a very long time,” Ruthers’ eyes remained focused on the edge of the table, while maintaining situational awareness of StagZ for his own safety.

“No. Don’t you see brother? I’ll give it all to you. Their names, and the downtown warehouse address too,” StagZ was doing everything he could to assure himself a future that did not include Big Bubba and a shared queen sized bunk.

“Its too late. He’s already talking to the prosecutor,” Ruthers leaned backwards, as if he’d failed all of his life’s pursuits. At once.

“No! Its not over! They’re having a meeting 209A Queen’s Quay West. Its a warehouse. They move a lot a stuff there. There’s a meeting space too. They’re all probably there right now…” StagZ’ hand reached for the cigarette, but before it was in his hand, Ruthers withdrew it and instead (accidentally) broke it.

“I think I’m going to be sick… I need to call my wife…” Ruthers got up, looking very sick and pale, and exited the interrogation room, leaving StagZ by himself once again, and without the nicotine he so desperately craved.

By the time the door had closed, Farnham was already there to greet Ruthers, wrapping his arm around him like his closest buddy.

“That was the best performance I’ve ever seen. That’s Juno material my friend. You’re a real life f#cking star. We got it all…” Farnham shook Ruthers a few times, though Ruthers’ expression did not let up, nor did it improve.

“I wasn’t acting. I think the cigarette really made me sick… I’m going to throw up…” Ruthers responded, breaking away from Farnham and quickly covering his mouth as he ran for the toilet.

“That’s my partner! That guy’s the ace in a flush!” Farnham exclaimed to his Detective brothers, who were now in the process of gathering a task force to breach the Queen’s Quay warehouse.

At that moment, Farnham heard Ruthers vomitting inside of the bathroom, and then flush of a toilet.

“Oh, he’s a real flush, that one,” Chuckson laughed as he passed Farnham in the hall.

“That guy is a real jerk,” Farmham responded, smirking at Chuckson.

…

The squad cars arrived first, twenty of them in the first parade of force, followed by another ten about six minutes later. They pulled in tactically sound, keeping their distance from and and lining up with lines of sight from windows, obviously readying themselves for a firefight.

The newly arrived officers began clearing people away from the harbour front, forcing them a distance from the building and maintaing line of sight observation of the windows at all times.

The ATF showed up about ten minutes later, though they did not pull into the main property area anywhere near the building, but instead setup a base of operations and bivouac for what they concluded according to behavioural sciences would be a protracted engagement.

Their sniper unit was deployed first, one two man team per every window, equipped with state of the art surveillance and observation imaging. One spotter, whose dual role was CQC in the event they were ambushed, and one sniper, equipped with armour penetrating rounds. In the event they required cement penetrating munitions, they also packed the Barrett, with DPTOS (Deep Penetration Thermal Optics System).

Monique was the first to hear the sirens, and then Myung, who’d known them throughout her career and training. Aikiko too, though more as a concern for the stealth of her own penetration testing operations, many of which were not often authorized.

The three of them stared at the unconscious body of the man Monique had just clotheslined very effectively, as the fire few lines of Police cars arrived.

“Well damn! That was quick! Were they watching me or something? Waiting for me to screw up? I mean, I’ve played good girl for my whole life, and have been careful never to cross that line and wham! The moment I do, they appear out of nowhere!” Monique responded to Myung and Aikiko, who looked at each other in serious puzzlement.

“Are you for real? You have some serious conscience issues you need to attend to before you get involved in stuff like this!” Aikiko replied, having long since settled up with her own psyche.

“It was just a coincidence. They were on their way long before this guy decided he was vacating the premises,” Myung assured Monique, who was visibly relieved to hear that from a courtroom stenographer.

“So do we just leave him here?” asked Monique.

“If we attempt to revive him, we have reasonable doubt for our own safety,” Myung assured them.

“True. We need to vacate ourselves, but I’m not backing out on a fellow Butterfly,” Aikiko stood firm of her committment to help protect Helayne.

“Same. But it would better if if you went in, and I went out,” Myung suggested to Aikiko, who thought it through.

“Who takes her?” asked Aikiko, gesturing to Monique.

“You. I know most of these people. I can keep watch from out here, and keep you guys informed about what’s going on, without them knowing… I think…” Myung suddenly didn’t seem so certain as she had moments earlier.

Aikiko looked to her Butterfly sister, and smiled.

“You’re definitely very nebbish, but I’d take a Butterfly like you any day,” Aikiko held out her hands, paired together like two butterfly wings. Her hands met with those of Myung, and she and Monique then disappeared into the warehouse.

Myung then raised her hands, pulling her court room identification from her purse and holding in her hand and presenting it to the officers who advanced towards her tightly against the building, gesturing her to remain out of line of sight of the windows.

“I work with the courts. I was gathering intelligence on this sight as per the speculation of the firearms and tobacco unit. I have reason to believe this site is the center of a criminal conspiracy,” Myung kept her hands high, as the officers relieved her of her identification, and then searched her from head to toe.

Using only hand signals, they gestured her forward and back behind the line of newly arrived Police cars, and to an ad-hoc command center far beyond the sight of the warehouse.

…

Inside of the warehouse, towards the back offices, Torman checked the window carefully, peering at the wall of Police cars that now lined the Queen’s Quay, leaving no means of escape.

“Honey?” Torman addressed Valerie, who sat on the edge of his desk, looking very seductive in the way she always had.

“Looks like the bell finally caught up with the whistle,” Valerie replied to him.

“And what does that mean exactly?” he smiled uneasily, not exactly sure what she meant by her statement.

“We’re surrounded, and your out of options. You lied to me,” Valerie challenged him, not willing to let it go that easily.

“Honey, sometimes a lie is truth, and the truth is a lie. You just have to know when and where its most advantageous for that to be the case. And the real advantage here, is that we’ve got the advantage, and they don’t. They just don’t know it yet,” Torman removed his glasses and wiped his forehead, returning them to his face.

“If you’re going to ask me to go out there and destroy their vehicles, I’m not going to do it. In fact, I won’t have any part of this anymore. You’re not the man I agreed to marry, and you’re not the man I’m going to marry!” Valerie finally found the courage in herself to face her greatest fear.

And at that moment, a thousand dreams. A thousand daytime fantasies of her future, all died at once, and she was left only with the rest of her life. Without him.

Alone.

“Well. Then I guess you’re just going to have to leave…” Torman turned to face her, still very cautious about being near any of the windows.

“Just like that? I can go?” Valerie confirmed with him.

“Certainly,” Torman responded, beginning to pace back and forth.

Valerie then turned and began on her to the stairs to the main level.

“Just one thing Valerie. Be sure you remember your way through the maze. I know how many times I’ve gotten lost in there,” he smiled at her, and then laughed in a sinister manner mocking of her.

He was referring to the parts shelves in the warehouse that had been setup as part of the cover operation to keep his real criminal business hidden, for he’d been using the Island Airport as a shipping point into the United States, from where he’d pickup illicit cargo which would be sorted and distributed from the warehouse.

The parts shelves were a veritable maze of sorts, taking up more than two fifths of the entire floorspace of the warehouse.

Valerie thought nothing of it, seeing it as one of his cruel parting jokes. She grew tense as she throught about just how cruel and heartless he could be. Not even considering her well being, and just sending her off into the day without even so much as a parting kiss, or a kind word.

She arrived at the first aisle of the parts shelves, and proceeded in, suddenly finding the darkness consuming.

“I don’t remember it being this dark…” she said to herself as she tried to recall her way through the parts library, when she heard a grunt.

“Not good to let down the man to whom you made a promise, is it?” a female voice greeted her, and she turned and looked for its source.

“Promises are two way deals,” Valerie replied, walking backwards as she guarded her back.

When she bumped into the shelf behind her, she nearly fell over forwards, but managed to stay upon her feet.

Until.

Something, strong, maybe as much so as her, and with horns, sent her flying into a row of shelves, and she passed cleanly through all of them and almost through the wall beyond. She suddenly recalled her fight with Alicia, and felt that now she was the quarry, when she turned to see a familiar woman with a mask and a pair of horns jutting out her head.

“MissGvious…?” Valerie brushed herself off as she got to her feet.

“No. I’m MissTauri,” the beast woman replied, wearing a luchadore’s mask and sporting a protruding pair of horns from her head.

She then charged at Valerie.

And where were the Dragons?

Secrets. Dirty secrets. True secrets. Secrets in plain sight. 

They are the power to rule the world.

To be continued in The Butterfly Dragon: Heroes of our Own Reimagined: Episode 14 – Pacific Bound

[Spring Awakens – Bei Bei]

[Welcome to the Opera – Grimes]

Written by Brian Joseph Johns

Credits and attribution:

Special Thanks To Rocket Fuel Lakeshore Blvd West, perhaps the best place in history to get a coffee, circa 2001-2004. Miss you all very much.

Artwork: Amy Wong, Wendy Pusey, Ghastly, Birdman, Brian Joseph Johns, Daz3D, Unreal Engine…Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you’re on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession…DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID – Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua’s own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto’s own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken’s Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can’t laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Thank you to the divine Miss M and to Hirose of our Own for the inspiration for the character Aikiko Tanaka. May they always embody the empowerment of women and their self determination.

Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I’m currently growing this section so stay tuned)

Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day lifeShi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day lifeJesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different artsSensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its historySeamus O’Dowd
An extensive growing archive Katas, Techniques and Waza (mostly Shotokan)Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their artTapp Brothers Exercise For Better MotionExtensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibilitySpecial thanks to Canva for inspiring other creators and giving them the toolsSpecial thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!


Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn’t graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.

This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.