Fii awoke in the morning to the sun streaming in through the open window. For a moment, she was disoriented, her memories of the previous night fragmented and dreamlike. But as she sat up and surveyed the room, the events came flooding back to her. The bonfire, the vision, the strange figure that was her and yet not her. She rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel the lingering sense of unease that had settled over her like a veil.

  As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her muscles ached, and her head throbbed. Whatever the herbs were that Mambo Naya had given her, they packed a punch. She hadn't felt this hungover since her last wild night with Quinn.

  The room was modest but comfortable. A small desk stood in the corner, and a basin of water rested on a nearby table. Fii stood and staggered to the basin, splashing water on her face and taking a long, grateful drink. The cool liquid eased her parched throat, and the fog in her mind began to clear.

  The sound of children's laughter drifted in from outside, accompanied by the clucking of chickens and the distant barking of a dog. Fii moved to the window, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. She peered out to see a group of Kurigali children playing a game of tag. They darted around a pen containing several goats, their laughter echoing off the nearby huts. Adults moved among them, tending to their daily tasks.

  Fii watched for a moment, a feeling of disconnection washing over her. She was a stranger here, an outsider. She knew little of the Kurigali and their ways, and the events of the previous night had only emphasized that fact. She'd agreed to stay in the village and learn their customs, but a part of her—the stubborn, willful part—had no intention of sticking around any longer than necessary. There was so much she needed to do, and she couldn't afford to waste time.

  But, then again, if the end result was a guide to help her get through the Wastes... it wasn't so bad, was it? Plus, she'd already come all the way out here.

  Fii sighed and turned from the window, her gaze falling on a pile of clothes lying at the foot of her bed. Curious, she picked them up, discovering a colorful tunic and pants, similar to those worn by the other villagers. They smelled fresh, their vibrant patterns woven from hand-dyed yarn.

  She held the tunic up, admiring the intricate detail. It was beautiful, but it wasn't hers. She had no claim to the culture it represented.

  At least... not yet.

  Not like I have anything better to wear.

  She sighed, running a hand over the fabric.

  Okay, maybe she could wear the clothes. It wouldn't hurt anyone, and besides, she did promise to try and assimilate. It was a start.

  She looked down at herself and realized she was still covered in paint from last night's ceremony. The body paint was smudged and flaking, its vibrant reds and whites now faded and muted. She grimaced, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

  She grabbed a cloth from the basin and wiped away the remnants of the paint, watching it swirl and disappear into the water, turning it a pale pink. Then, without further thought, she slipped on the offered clothing. The fabric was soft against her skin, and the colors seemed to come alive in the sunlight streaming through the window.

  Feeling refreshed and eager to find out what the day held in store for her, Fii ventured outside.

  Barathi sat on a low stool near the doorway, watching the children play their game. She looked up as Fii appeared, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

  Fii nodded. "Yeah, thanks. What's... happening today?"

  Barathi stood and brushed off her tunic. "First, we should get some food in you. Then, I'll show you around the village. You can meet the rest of our tribe and learn more about our ways."

  "I could go for that. Food, that is."

  Barathi led her to a small, open-walled shelter where a fire burned beneath a large metal cauldron. A woman stirred the contents, and the smell of something rich and savory wafted through the air. Barathi spoke to her in their native language, and the woman nodded, dishing up a portion of the stew into two wooden bowls. She handed one to Fii and the other to Barathi.

  Fii sniffed at the stew. It was mostly vegetables, from what she could tell, with bits of meat that were... well, not goat, that's for sure. She gingerly took a bite. The stew was hearty and flavorful, and the meat—whatever it was—melted in her mouth. She devoured the rest of the bowl with gusto, savoring the warmth that spread through her body.

  Once they'd finished their meal, Barathi guided Fii through the village, pointing out various structures and explaining their significance. There was the main gathering hall, where the elders met to discuss important matters. The workshop, where skilled craftsmen created everything from tools to furniture. The shrine, where spiritual leaders like Mambo Naya communed with the spirits and sought their guidance. And of course, the living quarters, where the families lived in their modest but comfortable homes.

  As they walked, Fii observed the villagers going about their daily activities. Some were tending to crops in small garden plots, while others were engaged in repairs or crafting. Everyone seemed to have a task, and they performed it with a quiet focus that Fii found admirable. Even the children were involved, running errands or assisting the adults in their work.

  But amidst the hustle and bustle of the village, Fii couldn't help but notice that there was no sign of technology. No electricity, no digital devices, not even a radio or a television.

  Granted, the technology leftover in the slums was several decades behind the Metropolis anyway, and in some cases, a century or more. But there was at least a little bit of tech in the slums, even if the Metropolis residents had left them far behind. Here, however, there was nothing. No vehicles, no screens, not even a single light bulb.

  At least they still traded with the city, from the looks of it. She had spotted a few pieces of plastic and glass throughout the village. But why were they so averse to electricity or running water?

  When Fii asked about it, Barathi's expression turned thoughtful.

  "We have a different relationship with the spirits here," she explained. "They are a part of everything we do, and we believe that introducing the machines and gadgets of the modern world would upset the balance of their energies. It is a choice we have made to honor the land and its guardians."

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  Fii considered this, her brow furrowed. "So, you're saying the spirits don't like technology?"

  Barathi laughed, shaking her head. "No, not exactly. It's more that we see the natural world and the spirit world as intertwined. Technology represents a separation from that connection, and we prefer to maintain a harmonious relationship with the land that sustains us."

  Fii frowned. That didn't seem to make sense. Wasn't a fridge better for preserving food? Wouldn't a motorized vehicle be better for transportation? Sure, she could understand not wanting to upset some kind of natural order or whatever, but...

  "It just seems inconvenient," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. "Wouldn't your lives be easier with a little tech here and there?"

  Barathi paused, considering her words. "Perhaps, in some ways. But we've found that the simplicity of our lifestyle brings its own rewards. We are more connected to the land, to each other, and to the spirits that surround us. It may seem inconvenient to someone from the city, but to us, it feels right."

  Fii mulled over her response. It wasn't an answer that satisfied her completely, but she had to respect their choices. Who was she to judge how they lived their lives, especially when she knew so little about their culture and beliefs?

  As they continued their tour, Barathi introduced her to the various members of the tribe. Each person greeted her warmly, and many of them were curious to hear more about her life in the city. She did her best to answer their questions, surprised by their genuine interest and the ease with which they welcomed her into their community.

  Despite her initial reservations, she found herself drawn to the rhythms of village life. The sense of interconnectedness, the shared purpose, and the deep reverence for the land and its spirits were unlike anything she'd experienced before.

  As the day wore on, she started to wonder if maybe there was something to be learned from the Kurigali's way of life—something that might help her on her journey to becoming a better hero. If only she could figure out what that was.

  Fii's days in the village settled into a routine. She woke with the sun, ate a simple breakfast, and spent the mornings working alongside the other villagers. She helped tend to the crops, repair buildings, and care for the animals. It was hard, physical work, but it was satisfying in a way she hadn't expected.

  In the afternoons, she joined the other young people in their lessons and training. She learned about the history and customs of the Kurigali, practiced their language, and even participated in their martial arts drills. Though her physique as a metahuman gave her an advantage in the sparring matches, she often found herself outmaneuvered by the Kurigali's quick reflexes and their knowledge of the terrain.

  The evenings were her favorite part of the day. The tribe would gather around the central fire, sharing stories, music, and laughter. Fii would sit quietly, watching and listening, letting the sounds and rhythms of the village wash over her. It was a peaceful, almost meditative experience, and it was in those moments that she felt the most connected to the Kurigali and their way of life.

  She wasn't quite sure how to interpret her vision from the bonfire yet. She tried asking a few of the locals, but everyone had a different interpretation. One said it meant she was divided. Another said it was a message from her ancestors. Another said that it was a warning. A fourth person claimed her vision was a reflection of her soul.

  One of the younger kids suggested that the image of her mirrored face meant that there were actually two of her. That had earned him a smack from his mother and a good laugh from the other adults in the area.

  Fii wished she had the opportunity to talk to Mambo Naya, but the old woman had been busy. Whenever Fii went to her hut, she'd been informed that Naya was attending to something else.

  That didn't surprise her. From what she'd seen, Mambo Naya was the spiritual leader of the whole tribe. She was responsible for everything from settling disputes to performing rituals, and there always seemed to be someone seeking her counsel or assistance.

  Besides, the old lady had a weird habit of vanishing into thin air. Fii had seen her do it a couple of times. One minute, she'd be there, and the next, she'd be gone. It was disconcerting, but no one else in the village seemed to find it odd. In fact, they treated it as a perfectly normal part of their lives. When she'd asked about it, the others had simply shrugged and told her that Mambo Naya had a special gift.

  Maybe it was a power of some sort, like Fii's gravikinesis. But if so, why didn't they call her a Super? Was it because she was using her ability in the service of the spirits? Or was there something else at play, some cultural difference that Fii just didn't understand?

  What did they call metahumans again? Zürakalu? A bearer of strength and light?

  It was a nice title. Not a very accurate one, in her opinion, but nice all the same.

  In the meantime, Barathi had become her unofficial guide to the village. She was patient and kind, answering Fii's countless questions and helping her navigate the complexities of Kurigali culture. Fii was grateful for her help, and she found herself growing fond of the older woman.

  As the days turned into weeks, Fii's bond with the tribe grew stronger. She learned their dances, their songs, and their stories. She even began to dream in their language. And though she still felt a twinge of guilt for staying away from the city for so long, she knew that her time in the village was important.

  One afternoon, Fii was working in the fields with a group of other villagers. One of the village warriors approached her, an older man named Luku. He ushered her to follow him, and she did, her curiosity piqued.

  Luku led her to the outskirts of the village, where a group of other warriors surrounded... Quinn?!

  Fii's breath caught in her throat.

  She blinked a few times, rubbed her eyes, and then pinched herself for good measure. But no, he was still there. The same tousled, dirty-blond hair, the same bright green eyes, the same crooked grin that always made her heart skip a beat.

  He was dressed in the same ratty green jumpsuit he always wore. The same old tool belt hung around his waist, the same pouches and compartments stuffed with his repair and maintenance tools. Even his old, dirty boots were the same.

  Quinn raised a hand and waved, and Fii couldn't help but wave back, a mix of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her.

  But she was also aware of the eyes of the village warriors on him. They didn't seem hostile, but they also weren't relaxed. It was like they were assessing him, trying to decide if he was a threat.

  "Quinn! What are you doing here?"

  He shrugged, his smile still wide. "I came to check on you. It's been weeks, and I hadn't heard a peep from you. Got a little worried, honestly."

  Fii stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe for outsiders."

  Quinn arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really? 'Cus it looks like you're doin' just fine. Besides, you know me. I've got my ways of stayin' out of trouble."

  Fii sighed, glancing back at the village warriors. They were still watching them, but their expressions had softened a bit.

  She grinned sheepishly and spoke to them in their native tongue, "Uh... lo-sa... vok-ri kero. Lo-ta novi. Na Sala-lo Ka-zira. Hali na... la-tera." She hoped that meant, "He's my boyfriend—a good person. I'll watch over him, sorry for the trouble."

  Fii could never get the hang of proper syntax and kept defaulting to telegraphic speech.

  The warriors exchanged glances before nodding at her and walking away. Fii breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Quinn. "Okay, you can come in. Just, uh... just stick close to me, okay?"

  Quinn's grin widened. "You got it. By the way, what'd you say to them?"

  "That you're my boyfriend, so they'd better behave," she said, punching him lightly on the arm.

  Quinn rubbed his arm. "Good to know you've got my back. By the way, you sounded pretty good in that language they speak. When'd you learn that?"

  Fii blushed. "Yeah, well, I've been practicing. Come on, let's go."