The Aftermath

The pub was dimly lit, wooden beams sagging like tired shoulders, the air thick with the scent of aged whiskey, spilled beer, and the dull hum of disbelief.

They'd found a booth near the back—half-hidden by smoke and shadow, as if trying to retreat from the night before.

Griffin sat with his coat still on, a half-empty glass of scotch sweating between his fingers.

Laurance Everhart leaned back with his arms sprawled over the booth cushions, shirt half-unbuttoned, and a half-drained pint in front of him.

Across from them sat Dante, impeccable as always, jacket crisp, one gloved hand resting over a glass of untouched red wine. Beside him, Alpha—still in her neat black attire—stared silently into nothing, unmoving.

"Well," Laurance said, lifting his glass in a mock toast, "cheers to the end of the most interesting disaster I've ever witnessed."

Griffin didn't return the toast. He swirled the scotch once, watching the amber light catch along the rim.

"You're really not going to say anything?" Laurance asked, grinning. "Come on, you saw that. Wizard. Knight. Telekinetic Men in Black. The sword actually glowed. I wasn't hallucinating, was I?"

"No," Griffin said.

"Then admit it!" Laurance leaned in, voice just shy of shouting. "Magic's real. Freakin' magic. Not metaphorical magic. Not sleight of hand. Real. Power. Light and fire and all that wizard crap." He looked between Griffin and Dante. "We saw it with our own eyes."

Dante simply sipped his wine.

Alpha didn't even blink.

Laurance turned back to Griffin. "I'm just saying… we should form a club or something. A little cabal of our own. You know, get ahead of the next supernatural market crash. Or at least figure out who's summoning ghosts next."

Griffin didn't answer. He tilted the glass back and let the rest of the scotch burn its way down.

He didn't need to joke. He didn't need to speculate. He just needed to leave.

"Alright," he said, setting the glass down. "I'm heading out."

Laurance looked offended. "Already?"

"I've work in the morning," Griffin said smoothly.

"Boring," Laurance groaned. "You're seriously thinking about work after all that happened?"

Dante, ever the calm voice, interjected, "Leave him be, Laurance."

Griffin offered a polite nod, then turned and walked out of the pub, disappearing into the cool night.

Laurance watched him go, then sighed, slumping back into the booth. "Some people just can't handle the truth, I guess." He looked at Dante, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But we can, right? We saw it. Everything changed tonight. This isn't just about collecting rare artifacts anymore, is it? This is about… uncovering a whole new reality."

Dante slowly set down his wine glass, his gaze thoughtful. "You have something in mind, Laurance?"

"I do," Laurance said, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Find out who those guys in suits were, who that wizard and knight truly are. And what Durandal really is. We aren't the only ones who saw it. There were two hundred people in that auction house." He pulled out his phone, a smirk spreading across his face. "In fact, I've already started a new group chat."

He tapped furiously on the screen for a moment, then showed it to Dante. The screen was a chaotic stream of messages, notifications pinging rapidly.

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[Blackwell Survivors Anonymous]

Diamond_Diva9: omg my valentino heels are literally ruined and my brain is broken. like, magic is real!? WTF!? i'm not crazy right?

Lord Fitzwilliam: My ancestral lineage feels deeply unsettled. I'll seek an exorcist with haste.

G. Hawthorne: fascinating. absolutely fascinating. I've always suspected a hidden world. the energy signatures were off the charts. preliminary calculations suggest a level 7 thaumaturgical event. who has footage?

AluM7: Someone! Tell me this is real life!? I saw a wizard throw a fireball! In real life!?

Baroness von K: darlings, my therapist is going to need a therapist. and I'm pretty sure I saw my investment bank levitate. is that grounds for a refund?

SkyHigh Roller: forget refunds, I want answers. who were those dudes in black? they were inhumanly fast. is it those damn American? whoever it's, I want to invest!

Palette Princess: My abstract expressionist phase just got a whole lot more literal. Is anyone else feeling... a little tingly?

John Curator: I've handled artifacts and relic for decades, to thinks one has been sitting in plain sight for years. Why does the French know nothing of this?

.....

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"See?" Laurance said, beaming. "Like-minded individuals. If we gather together and pool our resources. Danteh, we can establish… a secret organization of sorts. For the truly enlightened. To uncover the mysteries." He looked at Dante, an almost childish excitement in his eyes. "What do you say?"

Dante looked at the frantic chat log, then back at Laurance. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "It does sound... intriguing, Laurance."

"Intriguing!" Laurance clapped his hands together, then immediately lowered his voice as a few heads turned. "That's the spirit! Now, what do we call ourselves? We need something... evocative. Something that says, 'Yeah, we saw magic, and we're not quite sure what to do about it, but we're searching.'"

He paused, stroking his chin dramatically. "How about... The Unseen Council? A bit formal, perhaps, but it has a nice ring to it. Very 'ruling the world from the shadows' vibes."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "Subtle."

"Or!" Laurance's eyes lit up. "The Durandal Society! Direct, to the point, don't you think?"

"No wait! That's a bit on the nose," Laurance waved a dismissive hand. "I got it! The Arcana Anonymous? It's got that 'we're all in this together, maybe we need therapy' feel, but with a mystical twist. Plus, the acronym, AA. Easy to remember for those late-night, 'did that really happen?' calls." He grinned at his own joke.

Dante considered it for a moment. "It certainly captures the... bewildered enthusiasm of your newfound associates."

"Exactly!" Laurance snapped his fingers. "And it's casual. Wild, even. Just like the chat. We're not some stuffy old secret society, not yet. We're a bunch of rich people who just had their reality shattered and want to know why. 'The Arcana Anonymous.' It's got punch. It's got pizzazz." He typed furiously on his phone. "Done. Group name updated."

He then showed Dante his screen again, the top of the chat now proudly displaying:

"The Arcana Anonymous (Blackwell Survivors Anonymous) - new name!)"

"Welcome, Dante," Laurance said, a triumphant gleam in his eye, "to the dawn of a new era. Or at least, a hell of a good excuse for a weekly meet-up."