During the last part of their journey, he'd had quite the view. He hadn't been able to pay it any mind since he was focusing on his recovery, but Mar Fracturado looked rather imposing from above. Especially the huge cut that ran down the middle, stretching into the distance.

  If Finn was being honest, he had to admit that he hadn’t expected to be able to maintain his power to suppress the effects of this deadly frozen, burning sea for that long. Thankfully, he could just relax after they were out. He didn’t bother to talk to the people piloting the aircraft. Ernesto was being treated in one of the other flying transporters, and he was content to let everyone catch their breath, himself included. Power strain took a toll.

  He said he wasn’t going to initiate conversation with the pilots, but eventually a woman came to them, announcing that it was only a few more minutes until they landed. Their departure had been hours ago by this point. Finn felt the other refugees stirring. Until now, most of them had been sleeping after their exhausting journey, finally given the chance to truly relax.

  It was a feeling he understood well. He was experiencing the same thing. There were no enemies chasing them down, and the close proximity to Mar Fracturado meant that there was also no imminent primebeast threat. They were safe, unbelievable as it sounded.

  There was one other thing, though. An oddity, a stroke of luck, a miracle. During the fight against the grand commander, the core of that flying ice beast summon had shattered on its own. That was no coincidence. Given more time to ruminate on it in the humming aircraft, he had found a corresponding picture in his memory that matched the woman he’d sensed in the connection.

  Seraphim herself.

  She’d seen what he was doing, and decided to let him go.

  The implications of that were mind-boggling. What could the greatest supervillain in the world possibly have to gain by allowing him to run away from her domain? Was it some scheme? Personal amusement? Something else?

  He had no answers. He just hated that he had escaped at the whim of someone more powerful than himself, rather than purely because of his own efforts. If she hadn’t deactivated the summoned creature, he couldn’t say with confidence that Pesante would not have managed to overwhelm him before they escaped. Sure, there was no guarantee that he would have lost, but the uncertainty would always remain. He’d never know for certain. All he could do was look back and reflect on what he had done wrong, and what areas of improvement he should focus on in the coming days. Until he could make sure that the next time something like this happened, he would succeed. Because this had felt entirely too fortunate.

  When they first left, he hadn’t consciously been expecting to fail, of course. And yet… It felt like a dream, in the wake of everything they’d endured. Each part of the journey had felt like a trial unto itself, testing him in different ways. So it was a good thing that he could start putting it behind him. They would land, he would catch the first train back to Apexia, and that would be the end of it.

  An odd tingle flashed through his body at that thought. What was he going to do once he got back? Did he have anything in mind that he wanted to say to Lyra? To Mom? To Jack? He sighed. There would be hours to think about it, once he landed.

  What would they say to him? He was about to just step back into their lives without knowing how everything had gone in his absence. Had everyone moved on, forgotten about him? Would they think he had changed too much? Or vice versa? His chest tightened. Those were… frightening questions. Finn couldn’t remember the last time he was this scared of anything. No, he could, but he was surprised that the memories didn’t come from any battle he had fought.

  It was actually when he was seven years old, in a shopping mall back in Central. He had seen a woman who looked exactly like his mother in the crowd. He’d run after her, pushing through bodies, calling out. But when he finally grabbed her sleeve and she turned around, it wasn’t her. Just a stranger with the same hair, the same jacket. His stomach had dropped, and he’d felt this deep, twisting panic that he couldn't quite describe.

  That was the feeling curling in his gut now.

  He steadied himself in a few breaths. If there was going to be any freaking out, it would come later. As it stood, he wasn’t home free yet. The last thing he wanted to do was celebrate too early.

  That said, he did hope the rest of this journey would go smoothly. Though he didn't know how much Ernesto had communicated to these people in his correspondence over the past few months, it must have been something, given that no one had questioned his presence here, despite his obvious superhuman nature. Or maybe they were the trusting sort.

  Who knew; they had surely escorted plenty of refugees over the years. Someone like him might have passed through at some point. But then again, it probably went much better most of the time. He had thrown off the schedule, made a bunch of things go sideways…

  At least no one had died.

  None of the refugees, that was. Finn was a murderer nevertheless. He was never going to forget that for as long as he lived. Madeline’s body was resting back where he had buried it, in a quiet corner of the frozen forests.

  So he would be returning with blood on his hands. That was a thought he hadn’t internalized yet. Was he going to tell anyone? Would people notice if he didn't? Would they just assume?

  Too many questions. The anticipation was killing him. Part of him still couldn't believe that this was real. Nothing had felt the same without the others around, making him wonder what it would be like if they were. He had no idea what to expect. It would undoubtedly be an experience. He just needed to make sure he didn't run into trouble on the way.

  Land was in sight, and he felt the aircraft begin its descent. In his color sense, there was only the sea. That would soon change. Minutes, at most, then they would touch down. He felt people stir all over the convoy, realizing they had truly made it. Some cried, some cheered, some watched on in disbelief.

  Finn got up, shouldering his massive travel bag that he had assembled in Wanderlust’s dimension. He hadn’t lost this thing. It held the special seeds and clothes as well, albeit minus a couple of outfits that had gotten damaged over the course of their travels. Thanks to one helpful refugee, it had even made it out of the wooden carrier for the last part of the trip.

  Not long after, all the passengers landed next to a set of large buildings he guessed were made to house the new arrivals.

  He let out a slow breath, feeling the tension leave his body. It was real. He had really made it through that mess.

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  *******

  Initially, Finn had just been planning to slip away, but one of the crew members had addressed him and insisted he at least stop for a quick shower and bite to eat. Although he’d refused the latter, he was currently drying his hair with heat emission while putting on a new set of clothes. The sensation of standing under a real shower for the first time in a year and a half was indescribably jarring, even if he got over it easily enough.

  The building they had been taken into looked like a repurposed hotel of sorts, with a lobby and reception desk on the bottom floor, and suites on the upper floors. Downstairs, a few people that had arrived with him were talking to the staff. To his surprise, the one-armed Ernesto was among them. Sitting in a chair, yes, but it was impressive that he had woken up after such a short amount of time.

  Finn’s new boots—given to him by the workers here—touched the bottom of the stairs, hand letting go of the railing. He grabbed the door handle and revealed himself to the rest of the lobby.

  Gasps rang out across the room, and then he was being swarmed. Tears, shaking hands, wrapped gifts, endless gratitude. It was overwhelming, but he more or less knew how to field such feelings due to his experience as a hero, if not to this degree. Plus, he hardly felt like a hero at the moment.

  …He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He supposed this was the result of that. It would be a stretch to say he considered it a reward, but it was a relief to see so many positive auras in one place after all the misery they had suffered through.

  At length, he managed to bid his farewells to make it outside. Ernesto sat there on a bench overlooking the dark ocean waters, smoking a cigarette. For the second time, Finn was surprised. He hadn’t expected someone like Ernesto to smoke. It made sense, though. He could detect the lingering stress pervading the older man’s aura. Compared to when they had met, the guy looked to have aged ten years.

  He made no effort to hide his appearance, and the man gestured for Finn to sit. Taking the invitation, Finn sat down, gazing up at the stars in silence.

  “I cannot articulate the depths of my gratitude, but I am sure that I’m not alone in feeling this way,” Ernesto said a minute later.

  “Then don’t,” Finn replied. He didn’t care either way; he understood the sentiment.

  The olive-skinned man took another drag. “In that case, I will leave it at a simple thank you, and a reminder that you have done the impossible. The feats I saw you accomplish… I am only now starting to realize the caliber of fighter I witnessed in action, this last run.”

  He nodded along, more to keep the conversation going than out of any real agreement. He had a lot of areas he needed to work on.

  “This is going to be a story to pass down, if I ever have children. That manifestation at the end must have been detected by satellites, with the effect it had on the weather.”

  Finn lowered his gaze. “Is she going to be alright?”

  “Her future is guaranteed,” Ernesto stated with complete confidence. “That power, the States will never let it go. After the integration process is complete, she will be stationed in one of the big cities. Of that, I am certain.”

  Apparently, the smugglers weren’t authorized by the American government officially. But that hardly mattered due to whatever arrangement was in place. Both sides knew what was going on. Finn couldn’t say he cared about the details, so long as the people he’d fought to bring here were safe.

  “Good,” he said, rising to his feet. “Unless there’s anything else, I’m leaving.”

  “Your words are making me tired,” Ernesto laughed, puffs of smoke coming from his nose. “You are free to take time for yourself. To recharge, not be so swift to depart. I know that I will. You see, I’m taking this,” he said while waving his bandaged stump, “as a sign to step back. Likely for good. But I understand. You have your own affairs to tend to, yes?”

  “Yeah.”

  The probably-retired superhuman tapped his cigarette. “I see. Straight back to Apexia?”

  “That’s right.”

  “‘That’s right,’ he says. Not a day after a fight with Pesante.” Ernesto scoffed. “As expected of a kid who survived an explosion to the face.”

  At that reveal, Finn’s eyes widened. “When did you find out about that?”

  “That specific detail? A half-hour ago. Worry not, I have no intention of prying.” The wood creator stretched his back. “Miami is close. If you go there, you can take the railway back to your city.”

  This coincided with his plans. Landing in Florida was convenient for him. Miami was a big city with an underground railway he could sneak onto in order to hitch a ride home. And then he would be home.

  He hoisted his bag over his shoulders. “I wish you a quick recovery.”

  “Let’s hope so,” was the response. “Good luck with everything, Shade.”

  With a final nod, Finn turned and walked off into the night. There were branching roads leading in different directions, but he knew the way from the map he was checking out using his senses.

  He paused. Someone was running in his general direction. Someone young. She was calling out his hero name, trying her best to find him with frantic swivels of her head. He waved a hand and plotted out a color path for her to follow.

  When she reached him, she was panting from her sprint.

  He tilted his head. “Paloma.”

  “Mr. Shade,” she breathed. “You run away. Why?”

  “I need to get home,” he answered, in English.

  Paloma fished around in her pocket, pulling out a notebook, a pen, and a corded necklace with a glassy green bead. She looked up at him, her dark eyes searching his face for something—reassurance, maybe.

  “I- I wanted to ask,” she said, switching to Spanish. “Why are you leaving so fast? You saved us. You… you saved me.” Her voice wavered, and Finn could tell she had more to say but was struggling to get it out.

  Finn exhaled softly. He crouched down so they were at eye level. “Because I have people waiting for me,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “A home I need to return to. Just like you do now.”

  She chewed her lip. “But you don’t even let me say goodbye?”

  “It’s not a goodbye,” he assured her. “It’s just that I can’t stay. I have some very bad people I need to stop.” He pointed at the building housing the ones still celebrating, still coming to terms with their survival. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then thrust the notebook toward him. “Sign this.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “For my collection,” she said, pressing it against his chest. “For proof. That you were here.”

  Definitely not in the top five ways he would have thought he’d be signing his first autograph, if he could call it that. Honestly, he wasn’t even the type of person who signed things. So he hesitated.

  Those hopeful eyes kept looking at him, brighter than he could have imagined after what they had survived.

  Sighing, he grabbed the pen and signed “Shade” in neat letters, then “stay strong” underneath it. Was that how you did it? He didn’t know. She seemed satisfied, which must have counted for something.

  He flicked to another page and wrote a mail address. He didn’t have a phone number anymore. “If you ever need to contact me,” he clarified. “I’ll respond whenever I can.”

  Paloma took the notebook back and cradled it like it was a newborn. “Thank you,” she choked out.

  On a whim, Finn undid his power. His exposed skin paled, and the black locks he’d been seeing for months reverted to their natural brown. Paloma gasped. “Is that your real face?”

  He simply smiled at her.

  Before he knew it, he was wrapped up in a hug. The young girl put the necklace on him, and bawled her eyes out.

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