The band barely had time to drop their gear on the loading dock before the roar of engines echoed off the arena walls.

Down the alley came two blacked-out El Paso police SUVs, lights flashing, followed by something no one expected:

A full-blown SWAT MRAP—massive, armored, matte black with turret ports and tactical floodlights.

Gabriel’s ears perked. “Okay. That’s not the food truck.”

Thane stepped down from the bus with a confused squint. “Did we do something illegal on the way here?”

Diesel leaned out the driver’s window. “If they take me down, I want a Viking funeral.”

The door to the lead SUV swung open and a nervous city liaison jogged up, tablet in hand.

“Mr. Thane, Mr. Gabriel, uh… the mayor’s office is ready to present you the key to the city. They, uh… insisted on an escort. For crowd control. And, quote, ‘vibe enhancement.’”

Mark crossed his arms. “What kinda vibe needs an MRAP?”

Rico laughed. “The best kind.”

The motorcade rolled down the streets of El Paso like a bizarre diplomatic convoy from an alternate universe. Police sirens gave short, ceremonial bursts while the MRAP’s rumbling presence cleared intersections. Civilians lined the sidewalks, cheering, waving signs, taking videos. Kids had drawn paw prints in chalk across every corner.

Inside the bus, Thane just sat silently, arms crossed, as everyone stared at him.

“You okay?” Maya asked.

“I’m wondering if this makes me the diplomatic werewolf representative now,” Thane muttered.

Gabriel nudged him with a grin. “You’re basically the Secretary of Fangs.”

The motorcade pulled up to El Paso City Hall, where a full stage had been set up in the plaza. Hundreds of fans packed the perimeter behind steel barricades, cheering wildly. TV cameras. Local press. TikTokers on shoulders.

The mayor, a sharply dressed woman in her mid-50s with impeccable posture and a pearl necklace, stood behind the podium with a forced smile that had just started to tremble.

She watched, frozen, as Thane stepped off the bus in full bare, clawed-foot glory — muscular, towering, brown fur with streaks of gray catching the sun. Gabriel followed beside him, sleek black-furred and grinning like this was the best day of his life.

Behind them came Mark, still frowning. Then Cassie. Then Maya. Then the rest of the crew. The mayor swallowed hard.

“W-welcome to El Paso,” she said as they approached, glancing quickly between Thane’s claws and fangs. “I… uh… am honored to present to you this key to the city as a token of… peace, gratitude, and—”

She paused as Thane stepped closer to accept it.

The plaque holding the key was absurdly small in his massive, clawed hand.

He gave a low nod. “Much appreciated, ma’am.”

The mayor flinched slightly and whispered to her aide, “He’s… he’s built like a refrigerator with fangs.”

The aide whispered back, “Ma’am, he can hear you.”

“I know!”

The crowd roared as Thane held the key up, the golden metal gleaming in the sun. Gabriel leaned into the mic, tail swishing.

“Thanks for the key! We’ll try not to lose it!”

Laughter and cheers erupted from the audience. The mayor smiled nervously, clapping like her political career depended on it.

From the crowd came chants of:

“FERAL! FERAL! FERAL!”
“GIVE THE MAYOR A SHIRT!”
“SWAT BACKUP FOR THE BOYS!”

Mark shook his head. “This is how cities disappear in comic books.”