Author's Note: Behold, the final entry in the Guardiane Trilogy! I'm so excited to get to work on this one. This prologue is basically an exposition on what's happened since after All in the Family. Please remember to review this and if necessary, favorite it!

-Voltalia

It has now been six years since the Second Great War ended. Over these years, Marguerite (AKA Mistress Minor) Warden and Lord Stingray eloped and had two children of their own: five-year-old Augustus Nero and four-year-old Hippolyta Circe Stingray. Out of the two children, momma's boy Augustus (Gustus for short) was spoiled rotten by his father with beer, manly toys, and other such luxuries a boy would want. He bore a great resemblance to his mother: the same facial features she had, the same black hair she had, and also the same build which she had gotten from her father. All this except for the fact that he also sported gills on his neck, no doubtedly drawing unwanted attention from jerkholes other than his father. Hippolyta (Lyta for short), with the exception of only having nostrils and having a more masculine build, also resembled her mother a great deal, but with any other features she may've gotten from daddy being somewhat subtle. She was neutral when it came to which parent she loved best of all. Frankly to her, she didn't care all that much since they spoiled her rotten as well.

Marguerite's co-wardens and kid twin siblings, Zenobia and Hiram, grew more and more different from one another, as they were wont to do. Zeena, for example, had practically become another clone of their mother Mistress Major: harsh, cruel, and practically cold-blooded but with a bit more of a laid-back attitude and warmth towards her own family. Her sex and love lives were practically nonexistent, for she wanted to focus more on her job as prison warden than on such silly things like romance and coitus. Hiram, on the other hand, was getting to be more and more like his father each passing day. In fact, his quirks and whatnot were almost identical to Warden's, right down to having an active sex life and an active libido. His girlfriend, the dominant rowdy Bengali-American Opal, was a satisfactor for his sexual needs as well as a discreet Oepidus complex. And like with his parents' relationship, his own with Opal got off to a rough start, only minus the Spanish flies and the bet.

And then there was Felix (or as was his preferrable name, Finn), the youngest of the four siblings. Poor, poor Finn had suffered so much in just those six years alone. It started with his mother dying from the recoil of her magic gun and his father burning himself to death shortly after. He could remember everything, every goddamn thing that happened that day, that fateful day as much as he didn't want to. Recurring nightmares and the drugs he took to numb down his emotions kept him from sleeping even a wink. He went from being a fragile-minded carefree child to an angry, self-indulgent, extremely overreactive teen. He trusted no one, except his transsexual surrogate mother Alice, outside his family, not even his own brother-in-law. He was paranoid, painfully paranoid, so much so that he was convinced the world was out to hurt him. Any problem he had, he dealt with it by overreacting and screaming of how unacceptable and unjust it was. Some people did not see any hope of him recovering any time soon, but Alice wanted to help him no matter what because it was her duty to look after him and make sure he was alright.

It was sometime around noon when Mistress Minor got out of bed after sulking denial over being orphaned for all these years.

Dad and Mom's deaths have left a huge hole in my heart. she thought. Everyone, except for Finn, has adjusted without them and for them, life goes on. But as for me, I'm still on edge. Why is it so hard to forget them and move on?

She had more important things to deal with, after all, like providing care for Gustus and Lyta. Speaking of which, she hadn't seen them all day. She figured they were probably with their father, so she headed out to look for them. When looking for them, she suddenly bumped into Ariel, the reddish-brunette oldest daughter and child of Jared and Cherice.

"Mistress, how wonderful to see you!" Ariel exclaimed out of excitement. "Where are you going?"

"I'm looking for Gustus and Lyta." Mistress Minor replied. "Have you seen them?"

"Yeah, I think they were..." Ariel was going to say while pointing at a door that led to another room.

"Yeah, thanks." Mistress Minor hastily said.

"Mistress, what's wrong?" Ariel asked. "I know you're hiding something. Are you planning to fire me? Please don't fire me, Mistress!"

"Not at all, Ariel." Mistress Minor assured her longtime friend. "I'm just... have you ever felt like crying some time after a tragedy?"

Ariel thought for a minute and said, "Well, now that you mention it..."

"I didn't think so." Mistress Minor sighed. "My God, it's only been over half a decade since the Second Great War ended, but I can still remember it like it was yesterday."

"I know." Ariel rejoined. "Dad tells me he feels guilty about not stopping your father from going through with his self-immolation."

"He told me, too." her superior choked a bit on tears. "I need to go, Ariel. My children are waiting for me."

"Of course, of course!" Ariel said. "I hope we'll talk like this again."

But Mistress Minor already ran off.

"Heh. I can't imagine what those kids of hers would do without their mom..." Ariel muttered to herself.

She was trudging back to her parents' room when she heard someone coming in from Superjail's front entrance.

"W-Who's there?" she asked as unfamiliar footsteps stepped into hearing range.