And Then It Got Worse

Before Finn could process this nightmare, the sound of marching boots filled the street. A procession of gold-plated guards emerged, parting the crowd like an imperial parade.

At the head of the procession was a man in a royal admiral's coat, his mechanical monocle clicking as it zoomed in on Finn.

"FINN GEARWRIGHT!" the man boomed, his voice like a steam engine barely containing an explosion.

Finn gulped. "Uh… y-yeah?"

The admiral unsheathed his sword and pointed it directly at Finn's nose.

"In the name of the Emperor of Brasshaven, I hereby declare you—" he paused for dramatic effect, "—the lost prince of the Ironblood Dynasty!"

Silence.

Wind whistled through the street. A nearby automaton short-circuited and fell over.

Finn stared blankly. "…I'm sorry, what?"

Zephyria pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh for gears' sake."

Vespera let out a low whistle. "Well, well, well. Looks like my darling fiancé just got way more interesting."

Tess doubled over laughing. "FINN, YOU IDIOT, HOW DID YOU EVEN DO THIS?!"

The admiral turned to his guards. "Seize the prince!"

The guards lunged.

Finn turned on his heel and screamed, "I'M NOT EVEN ROYALTY—WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!" before bolting for his life.

Tess, Zephyria, and Vespera all exchanged glances. Then, as one, they chased after him.