"I don't know."

A man stepped off the first motorcycle.

Then another.

They wore black leather vests.

Every vest carried the same bison.

The same colors.

The same rockers.

BLACK HILLS.

BISON.

DEADWOOD.

The engines continued to arrive.

By ten o'clock, nearly three hundred motorcycles were lining Main Street.

No one shouted.

No one threatened anybody.

They simply parked.

Turned off their engines.

And waited.

For one word.

From Cyrus Delaney.

The Founder

Cyrus walked toward the motorcycles.

Men who were twice Trent's age removed their helmets.

Some were gray-haired.

Some were young.

Some walked with canes.

Some had scars.

But every one of them stood when Cyrus approached.

A man in his sixties stepped forward.

"Founder."

Cyrus shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

The man smiled.

"You'll always be the founder."

Another man embraced him.

Then another.

Soon Cyrus was surrounded.

Three hundred members.

Three hundred lives connected to a patch he had once sewn by hand.

Cyrus looked at them.

"What are you all doing here?"

One rider laughed.

"We heard you were having trouble."

Cyrus sighed.

"I told Odin not to call anybody."

Nobody answered.

Then Kestrel Elk's grandson stepped forward.

"Nobody called us."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

"Then how did you know?"

The young man smiled.

"Brotherhood."

Cyrus looked at the line of motorcycles.

For a moment, he saw the past.

A gas station.

Four men.

One dream.

Then he saw 2025.

Hundreds of people.

A legacy he had never intended to create.

Cyrus turned toward Trent.

The young bouncer stood alone near the door.

He looked terrified.

Cyrus raised one hand.

Every motorcycle remained silent.

"Nobody touches him."

Three hundred men listened.

Cyrus looked at Trent.

"You made a mistake."

Trent nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Now you get the chance to learn from it."

Trent's eyes filled with tears.

"Yes, sir."

Cyrus nodded.

"Good."

Then he turned to the crowd.

"Now go home."

The riders looked at one another.

Cyrus smiled.

"My granddaughter is getting engaged tonight."

The oldest rider laughed.

"Then we're staying for the cake."

The Party

The Copper Lantern changed that night.

The motorcycles outside remained parked along Main Street.

Inside, the engagement party continued.

But now the atmosphere was different.

Bikers stood beside engineers.

Park rangers talked with mechanics.

Old men shared stories with young couples.

Meadow stood beside Cyrus.

"You knew this would happen?"

Cyrus shook his head.

"No."

"You really didn't?"

"No."

She smiled.

"Grandpa, you could have told me you were famous."

Cyrus laughed.

"I'm not famous."

She looked outside.

"Three hundred motorcycles disagree."

Cyrus looked uncomfortable.

"I'd rather talk about your fiancé."

Isaac approached.

"That can be arranged."

Cyrus looked at him seriously.

"Do you love her?"

Isaac nodded.

"Yes."

"Will you protect her?"

"Always."

"Will you listen when she's right?"

Isaac hesitated.

Meadow laughed.

"Wrong answer."

Cyrus smiled.