> V <

  Kokona - are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?

  Natalie - Even if you did, P.U.S is gonna come down on me for what happened

  Natalie - It’s better this way, Kokona. Trust me.

  Kokona - I understand.

  Kokona - I’m going to miss you, Nat

  Natalie - come on, it’s not like you can’t come visit. You know where I am.

  Kokona - haha true!

  Kokona - then you guys better prepare for a lot of visits

  Kokona - I hope you like BBQ!!

  Natalie smiles and slips her communicator into her pocket. People wander past her, blocking the sun with umbrellas. They talk, they laugh, children run up and down the sidewalk—it’s as if the events that unfolded in Strian never happened.

  Hard to believe it’s already been a month…

  Natalie woke up in the infirmary, two weeks after the battle. Strian had already begun to rebuild—the threat was gone, the terrorist Feng was no more, and the world could finally heal.

  Kayce was gone. Nothing was left of him—not even his weapons. Natalie grieved for a week, and when she reemerged from her dorm, she put in her resignation from P.U.S, much to the disapproval of her colleagues. Not even a day later, she received a call from Celestia—there would always be a place for her at the Astral Sanctuary.

  Natalie shakes off the memory and shrugs her backpack into a more comfortable position. She lifts a large, white briefcase off the ground, studying it for a moment with a smile: Tanya had shown up at her dorm in the barracks, following her resignation. She was in tears, and all she managed to get out was that Natalie could “come back if it ever needed repairs”, as she handed her the case. When Natalie opened it, she found her old hardlight sword and shield projector inside, along with a note:

  For the brave warrior angel that rescued the seaside village—you might need these. I’ll miss working with you.

  — Tanya, P.U.S R&D

  P.S. - please don’t tell anyone where you got these. Ms. Yvette will kill me if she finds out

  Natalie chuckles to herself and grips the suitcase tighter. She walks up the sidewalk, smiling at people as they pass her. Her free hand slips into her pocket and closes around a little pocket knife—one engraved with the image of mother wolf and its pup. Nearly there, now…

  She stops in front of a tall building that bears a sign of a four-pointed star in an archway. A girl with long white hair is sitting on the steps—her amethyst eyes light up when she sees Natalie, and she rushes forward to put her arms around her.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Celestia says.

  “Didn’t really have a choice,” Natalie says through a grin. “P.U.S kicked me out. Apparently they don’t like freeloaders.”

  “Trust me, our dorms are way more comfortable anyway. Please, come in! Let’s get you settled! The Navigator should be here soon! I’m sure they’d be delighted to meet you!” Celestia releases her and starts up the stairs to the front door.

  Natalie pauses on the first step, finding the knife in her pocket again. I’m gonna make that world I promised you, Kacye… I know it’s not much…and I know you’ll never forgive me…but I’m gonna make sure that no one ever feels alone like we did again… I hope…I hope that means something to you…

  “Hey! You coming?” Celestia is standing in the doorway. “Seriously, the Navigator’s on his way right now. We should really get you settled before—” Natalie’s smile widens.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” She starts up the steps and follows Celestia through the door. “Was just hesitating, because living here probably means that I’ll have to try that infamous ‘Starlight Coffee’ of yours…”

  Celestia pouts as she passes the reception desk and enters the elevator. “The Navigator likes my coffee…”

  “If you say so…”

  The doors shut and the elevator begins to rise. Natalie gives the knife a small squeeze.

  I hope we meet again in Heaven, little brother…

  >>> ||| <<<

  The streets of District 43 were always colder following a rain. Most of the district’s residents would retreat into alcoves and huts, bundling themselves in blankets to wait for the arrival of the sun to dry away the frigid water. But the sun never seemed to pierce through the clouds and smog, so they all stayed inside for hours, sometimes days if the rain returned or persisted.

  That was, all except for one little girl in a dirty gown, wandering up the street and giggling as she splashed in the runoff. She had a shock of tangled black hair that reached down to her waist, and her small face held a set of bright emerald eyes. She skipped up alleyways and around corners, kicking at trash and humming to herself while others watched from the shadows of their makeshift homes. This was her routine on rainy days, drawn out by the smell of wet concrete and the cold water against her heels.

  Today, however, the little girl paused. A familiar sound was drifting out of a nearby alleyway—someone was crying. She approached, taking small, careful steps over piles of trash as the sound grew louder. She ducked past a pile of garbage bags to find the source: a little boy, maybe three or four years old, with messy white hair. His face was wet with tears and snot poured from his nose as he wailed. The little girl knelt down before him.

  “Are you okay?”

  The little boy cried louder.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  The boy opened his eyes, swallowing his next sob. His eyes were like brilliant rubies in the summer sun. “Momma…Papa…” he choked out, “Momma…Papa…gone…” As the words dribbled from his mouth, he broke into wailing again.

  “Hey! Hey!” The little girl sat down next to him. “It’s okay. My Momma and Papa are gone too.” She put an arm across his shoulders—he hugged her and buried his face against her side, still crying. She held him for a moment while a thought formed in the front of her mind. “Hey…what do you say we stick together? Would you like that?” The boy nodded. The girl smiled and pulled him closer to her, rocking from side to side. “My name’s Natalie.”

  The boy stopped sobbing for a moment to repeat her name. “Nattie.” His voice was muffled by her gown.

  “That’s right.” She began to hum a lullaby—one she didn’t know the name of or where she’d heard it before. The boy’s cries quieted and, after a while, he grew still with sleep.

  “Don’t worry,” Natalie whispered, looking to the sky. “We’ll be together forever. I promise.”