Keira was surrounded on all sides.

Heavy weights had been attached to her arms and legs, severely hindering the Savage Warrior's mobility. In her hand she held not a greatsword, but a single blunted dagger, so dull that it was incapable of cutting anything. Danger Sense warned her of when and where she should move, yet she suppressed its guidance, relying solely on her ingrained expertise.

"Begin."

Ten fighters charged her at once.

The rest was a blur. Ten motions, in less than ten seconds. When all was said and done, Keira's students had been knocked to the ground in varying states of pain and disgruntlement.

"Good work," she said, nodding at them. "You got closer this time."

Her compliment incited a chorus of groans. "I understand that this is vital training for us," began a Harpy named Vashar, "and I know that your praise is intended as genuine. But it feels insincere when we've proven unable to so much as touch you, Head Exterminator."

Sometimes I think you forget that I'm Level 99 and all of you are in the low-40s. "It'll happen eventually. You were closest today out of everyone, so you get to do the honors."

Keira tossed an orb of glowing malevolence at him. Vashar caught it out of the air, his exasperated frown flipping to an elated grin. He stood up, placed the orb on the ground, and raised his longsword into the air.

Like an executioner's axe, he brought it down on the helpless Dungeon Core.

An unnatural screech resounded as the Dungeon's entrance began to close.

The soldiers in her squadron gazed upon the phenomenon with a mixture of awe, revulsion, and triumph. Keira, for her part, had embarked on too many Crawls to view it with more gravitas than if she were exterminating vermin. This was...the sixth Dungeon just this month? Seventh? With none of them having even the slimmest chance of harming her.

No rest for the weary, she mused – although Keira knew she would've fought tooth and nail if someone tried to relieve her of this duty. Now that the Blight had been eradicated and Elatra's nations were at peace, there honestly wasn't much work for Combat Class users to do. At least Combat Class users on her Level. One could only hunt random monsters for so long until they craved something a bit more stimulating.

Keira had been the one to suggest that she put together a Dungeon-slaying team comprised of members from each territory. Riardin's Rangers could've taken up the mantle, but frankly speaking, most of them had better things to do with their time. By bringing in fighters from all across Elatra, they were able to sidestep complaints of trespassing in foreign lands when hunting faraway Dungeons. It also prevented anyone from grumbling that Riardin's Rangers were wasting EXP by going on Crawls at max Level.

Most importantly, it meant people couldn't bother Keira with other forms of politics. Meetings? Negotiations? Alas, she was the Head Exterminator, and oh so busy. Try asking elsewhere.

Granted, if she hadn't suggested the idea of an official Dungeon-slaying team, someone would have. When Rob revealed just how many Dungeons had been unwittingly left unchecked throughout Elatra, it made people...unnerved. Very unnerved. They couldn't afford to let the situation get that dire again.

With a final piteous scream, the Dungeon closed shut and disappeared. Breathing sighs of relief, Keira's squadron turned to face her. "Where's the Enchanted Compass pointing to next?" Vashar asked, his voice brimming with zeal. "I'm ready and eager to expunge another Wound in the World."

"I approve of your enthusiasm." Keira arched an eyebrow. "...In moderation. You seem to have forgotten that you nearly succumbed to a trap during the last Crawl. If I hadn't been there..."

"But you were there, Head Exterminator. I possess complete faith in your capacity to protect our Party and see it to victory."

He spoke with the honeyed tone of a practiced orator. On someone else, it may have worked.

Keira crossed her arms. "You just want to skip out on training, don't you?"

Vashar winced. His fellow squadmates mirrored his reaction, each wearing a face of disappointment. Evidently, they'd been hoping for him to succeed. Harpy, Merfolk, Elf, Dragonkin, Dwarf, Fiend, and even a Gellin – all united in their desire to avoid more humiliating beatdowns from a handicapped Warrior wielding blunted daggers.

She couldn't help but laugh. While these fools were no Riardin's Rangers, and never would be, she'd grown surprisingly fond of them over the past months. "A decent attempt, but your request is denied. We'll wait three days before checking the Compass. It will allow us much-needed time to examine and correct the mistakes you all made during the last Crawl."

Besides – it would give Keira something to look forward to. Where was the fun in expunging every Dungeon in just one day?

In truth, after Riardin's Rangers brought forth an unprecedented era of peace, Keira had started to feel listless, as if her purpose was missing. It was something of a paradox. She'd fought for peace, she wanted peace...yet she didn't think she was well-suited for living in peacetime.

Her personal Awakened Class was called the Savage Warrior for a reason.

As such, she had devised a number of ways to keep herself occupied. Forming the Dungeon-slayer squadron was one. It granted her first claim to any Dungeons that appeared, and she'd found that training her squad felt more rewarding than expected. The unbending taskmistresses was a highly enjoyable role to play. She would do her utmost to ensure that these louts survived – even if it killed them.

Same went for Riardin's Rangers. Her friends were still too prone to softheartedness; sooner or later, it would be taken advantage of. Someone needed to keep an eye on the vultures circling around them. Diplomacy was usually adept at that, but the former Skill was self-aware enough to know they shouldn't hold a position of unfettered power, so they always deferred to Rob in matters of mercy.

Keira would not. She was more than happy to be the cold and ruthless member of their Party. It was a crucial, necessary counterbalance that had her gleefully anticipating the day when she could put a traitor to the sword.

I think...I'm actually quite content right now. Keira recognized that she had already experienced the most exciting part of her life at a relatively young age. Nothing she did moving forward would be as exhilarating as dueling unfathomable abominations from beyond the stars. No accomplishment could possibly measure up to rescuing the world from total annihilation.

And that was fine. She wasn't a battle-obsessed maniac who could only derive fulfillment from the pumping blood of combat. Not when she had friends, loved ones, and an assortment of entertaining duties with which to pass the time.

Life was good.

Now if she could just get people interested in a boxing league, then things would really be–

A flash of blue mana drew her attention. Keira's mouth widened into a smile as Rob teleported close by, his Waymark startling the Dungeon-slayers.

"Sup." The Human raised a hand in greeting. "Hope I didn't keep everyone waiting too long. You guys must've blitzed through the Dungeon." He aimed a grin at Keira. "Are you working your ducklings to the bone again?"

Vashar cut in first. "I regret to inform you that she is," he answered, in a grave and serious tone. "We shall be naught but withered corpses before the week is out."

The Harpy let out a theatrical noise of distress. "Oh, what are we to do? Lord Rob, I beseech you – could you...if I may be so bold...attend to the Head Exterminator more often? Help the poor lady relieve her stress? If so, she might have mercy on our tired, beaten souls!"

"I assure you," Keira dryly stated, without missing a beat. "He relieves my stress often and well. This is me when I'm relaxed."

Her assertion provoked a bit of a stir. Half the squadron gazed at Keira with fear, as if wondering how she fought when *not* relaxed. The other half glanced at Rob with impressed looks. Rob himself turned away entirely, overcome by a sudden coughing fit that failed to mask the embarrassment coloring his face.

You're a shit-stirrer, Vashar, but you have my thanks. Rob secretly appreciated when his subordinates made jests at his expense. To use his words: it made him feel more normal. While Riardin's Rangers could fulfill part of that need, the rest had to come from people outside their Party.

Perhaps she would go slightly easy on the Harpy during their next bout of training.

"ANYWAY," Rob said, loudly clearing his throat. "I've got to talk with Keira about a couple things. Mind giving us some privacy?"

The squadron stared at him, their eyes glimmering. It took a moment for Rob to realize his mistake.

"Not that kind of privacy!" He kneaded his forehead. "Seriously, what is this? Is my girlfriend in charge of an elite team of twelve-year olds?"

As they laughed – and Keira along with them – Rob quickly pulled her aside, mumbling about the lack of owed deference to the Leader of a 'freaking nation'. She also noticed that he made zero effort to correct that lack of deference, and seemed to be doing his best to ward off an amused smile.

"My apologies for their immaturity," Keira snickered, once the two of them were out of Heightened Senses range. "They can be somewhat of a handful at times."

Rob paused. "...Trade you. I get them, you get the Grand Overseers."

"Absolutely not."

"Worth a shot." The Human leaned in closer. His voice lowered to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper. "So. New developments. First is that Malika and her mages made another breakthrough. The Sanctuary will be growing faster than we thought."

Keira nodded without responding verbally. Despite them taking precautions to uphold secrecy, she didn't trust that someone might not be listening in. Elatra wasn't yet ready for this particular revelation.

The Sanctuary was Rob's code phrase for a clandestine settlement of reborn Skills. Once prisoners of the gods' Repository, they were currently living out their days in newly-fashioned bodies. As a result of Malika continuing to free more and more, their numbers had eventually increased to a point where it was difficult to keep them hidden within Fiendish cities. It made sense to give the Skills a place of their own.

Initially, Rob suggested that they resettle in Human territory. It was located just south of Fiend territory, contained vacant cities with pre-built infrastructure and agriculture, and was flush with miles of unattended land that scarce few wished to travel through – let alone inhabit. They would've easily been able to make a home there without being found by any wandering Elatrans.

The Skills denied him outright. They hadn't wanted to live in Humanity's graveyard. Not after their part in empowering the Dragon Queen.

One could only bear so much guilt.

As such, the Sanctuary had been constructed on the fringes of Fiend territory, as far from civilization as possible. Some string-pulling from the Grand Overseers kept any civilians from exploring where they shouldn't. It was moderately harsher living than an established city, but the Skills seemed satisfied with their lot.

For now. The isolated Sanctuary was a temporary measure. In the years to follow, as Malika worked her magic, the Skills' population would swell to the tens of thousands. And when at last the Soul Repository had been completely emptied...

A new race would be revealed to the world.

Keira wasn't looking forward to the headaches that day would foster. Although, due to the gods' past interference, historical precedent did exist for new races – specifically the Humans and Fiends – appearing seemingly out of nowhere. That should help ease the transition and prevent needless conflict.

Well, that and Riardin's Rangers being there to set people straight. If Rob proclaimed that the Skills were under his protection, there wasn't much anyone could do about it, even if the Human himself didn't like using his Level as a cudgel unless forced to.

"Apart from the Sanctuary," Rob continued, "there's the...the thing with...my friend. From the other place...and..."

He sighed. "Okay, this is silly. Can you disband your Party and join mine for a sec?"

When Keira obliged, a Message popped into view.

Message Received from Party Member: Rob

Rob: yeah this is way better. the cloak n dagger stuff gets old after a while

Keira: Aw, but watching you fumble through it is positively adorable.

Rob: oh ffs. is today unofficial Tease Rob Day?

Keira: Isn't that every day?

The Human smirked.

Message Continued

Rob: got me there

Rob: anyway, before we get sidetracked – i've heard news from Jason

Rob: he convinced my home country's government to let people from Elatra visit in the future

Rob: and by 'convince' I mean 'strongarm' but same thing really

Keira perked up. She was always interested in news from Earth. Everyone in their Party was. What person with even the slightest spark of curiosity in their soul wouldn't wish to learn of a new world filled with endless possibilities?

Especially the world that Rob hailed from. Riardin's Rangers were quite keen to discover more about the lands, family, and friends that had raised him. Earth sounded like an exceedingly bizarre place at times; fitting for having produced an exceedingly bizarre man.

Unfortunately, while they wanted to journey there as soon as the dimension mages finished their portal, it could take some time to receive approval. The mages were still unsure if it was safe for people of Elatra to reside in a world without mana.

According to Kismet, mana-based creatures such as the Fiends would...well...melt. Average members of other races might persist for roughly two months before taking ill and passing away. That was assuming no unexpected interactions occurred. Theoretically, higher-Level Elatrans with more mana – like Riardin's Rangers – should be at lower risk, but they couldn't be certain until tests were done.

Even so, this news of Jason's was a step in the right direction. At least the Humans of Earth wouldn't turn immediately hostile if, say, an Elf intruded within their borders. No matter how insistently Rob claimed that her people would become overnight celebrities if their faces spread across a nation called The Internet, Keira remained skeptical.

Message Continued

Keira: How did Jason manage to convince the Earth government?

Keira: Last I heard, although he is a powerful combatant, he wasn't so strong that he could bend nations to his will. Not in the way you can.

Rob: he's built up a lot of soft power there

Rob: wasn't a hard sell either. they don't wanna piss me off

Rob: dunno if the bigwigs buy all Jason's stories about me, but they're aware that even someone just equal to him would be a pain in their ass

Rob: theoretically i could cause a shitton of problems if i went rogue

Rob: like, i wouldn't threaten them, but they don't know that

Keira: Why wouldn't you?

Rob: keira we've talked about this, i can't freaking threaten my country's government

Rob: trying not to be a tyrant here

Keira: And while that's admirable, you've never shied away from opposing the Leaders of Elatra when they were committing injustices.

Keira: Forgive me for suggesting this, but...maybe you're subconsciously putting Earth on a pedestal?

Keira: What would be so different than what you're doing right now?

Rob: well first off

Rob: um

Rob: shit

Rob: i am gonna have to get involved aren't i

His face fell as he started lamenting a future of dealing with two worlds' worth of politics. Keira chuckled, patting him on the shoulder in a consoling manner.

Message Continued

Keira: If it's too aggravating, you can keep your sojourns to Earth brief.

Keira: I'm sure its Leaders can handle themselves.

Rob: Can't do that.

Rob: Even if the politics end up giving me migraines.

Rob: It's...it's my home, Keira.

Rob: There's so much there I want to experience. So much I want to show you guys.

Rob: Too many people that I left behind.

Rob: Speaking through Dimensional Message isn't enough. I haven't talked directly to my parents in a year and a half. And Jason is long overdue for a universe-shattering fist bump.

Rob: Elatra has grown on me – like a fungus – but not a day goes by that I don't miss Earth with all my heart.

The wheel of fate turned. Out of nowhere, they received a Message from another member of Rob's Party.

Message Received from Party Member: Malika

Malika: It happened!!!

Keira exchanged a confused look with Rob.

Message Continued

Keira: What happened, exactly?

Keira: Is this about your breakthrough with the Skills?

Malika: Other breakthrough!!!! Newer one!!!!!

She saw the moment that Rob froze. All the levity drained from him in an instant, leaving a cold statue that dared not hope.

Message Continued

Rob: Malika.

Rob: Please explain.

Malika: Me and mages did it! Took us a while because of other projects but we did it!

Malika: We made a dimensional portal that's big, stable, and mana-efficient! And safe to pass through!

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Rob: Then–

Malika: After our mana recovers, you can visit Earth tomorrow!

--

Kenzotul found Sylpeiros standing at the border between Elf and Human lands.

The Seneschal was staring in silence, his eyes fixated on the line dividing Elven territory's purple grass and Human territory's harsh, arid soil. His expression was unreadable – albeit not incomprehensible. Kenzotul had become quite proficient at deciphering Sylpeiros' oscillating moods.

In this case, it was especially easy. The Seneschal was merely feeling exactly what Kenzotul had when he contemplated exploring Human territory once before.

You want to see the consequences of your actions firsthand. But at the same time...you feel that you shouldn't be here. As if setting foot in Human territory would be an insult. A mockery. An egotistical farce.

As if you don't have the right.

Kenzotul didn't comment on any of that. Instead, he walked up and stood beside Sylpeiros, assuming a silent vigil next to him. Neither of them spoke for some time, both too busy sorting out their thoughts.

"The soldiers are anxious," Kenzotul lightly chided. "Couldn't you have left a note before departing?"

"I didn't anticipate being gone this long," the Seneschal admitted, his eyes still fixed forward.

"Regardless, a brief absence would have still worried them. Leaders provide a sense of stability. The competent ones, at least."

Sylpeiros waved a dismissive hand. "Won't be Leader soon anyhow."

He had been working to raise a successor to his position, citing injuries obtained during the Blight war that now prevented him from carrying out his duties. There were already multiple promising candidates lined up; rising stars that would fit in well with Elatra's new paradigm of peaceful coexistence. The younger generations seemed enamored with tales of Riardin's Rangers, so it shouldn't be difficult to find someone willing to negotiate with them in good faith.

However, although the standards for a Leader's power were being lessened – out of necessity, as otherwise there wouldn't be any new Leaders for decades – it would take time to raise the candidates to adequate Levels. Sylpeiros was likely going to be stuck in his role for longer than he wished.

Kenzotul sent a covert glance at the Seneschal's limp right arm. If the man's stories were to be believed, it had been annihilated by a deity when Riardin's Rangers challenged the gods and tore them from their heavenly thrones.

That...was a tale Kenzotul was happy to keep to himself. Even if he felt inclined to betray Sylpeiros' trust and shout it from the rafters, he doubted anyone would believe him.

Apparently, by some unknown means, Rob had at one point convinced a god to heal his allies – Sylpeiros included. It then healed the Seneschal's arm, but not the underlying soul damage therein. His physical flesh was restored, yet the limb had been rendered as no better than numb, useless meat.

It wasn't an irreversible ailment. The Fiends' premier Soul Surgeon had offered to mend Sylpeiros' soul and restore his arm to full functionality.

An offer that he refused.

Whether it was because he had accepted the injury as penance, or because it gave him a pretext to step down as Leader, or some combination of both...Kenzotul couldn't say.

"I wasn't like this in the past," Sylpeiros said, abruptly speaking up. "Before the Hu– before Rob, I was much more sure of myself. I had regrets, of course, but not nearly to this degree. The world was cruel, yet my path was clear. Then he arrived, and I was forced to repeatedly reconsider all that I thought was self-evident."

The Seneschal's gaze drifted up towards the sky. "That day of reckoning was the final turning point. When everything became so damn complicated."

Kenzotul heard the words that went unspoken. While Sylpeiros hadn't been intending to die when he invaded the Hallowed Halls alongside Riardin's Rangers, wielding mortal steel against the overwhelming might of the gods themselves...he also hadn't really expected to live through it.

But he had.

And now he needed to live with the person he'd become.

"Things used to be simpler." Sylpeiros exhaled a deep sigh, as if he was suddenly hundreds of years older. "Why is it that despite accomplishing more good in this past year than the rest of my life put together...it's just caused me to reflect on my mistakes even further?" He grit his teeth. "Almost like my stubbornness was a sort of shield."

"A protective, comforting shield," Kenzotul agreed. "One that stifles your mind and blinds you to reality. Blissful ignorance, granted in exchange for reducing the scope of your world."

"Speaking from experience?"

"This isn't the first time I've stood at the border of Human territory, wondering if I should be allowed to take a step forward."

"...Did you?"

Kenzotul said nothing in response.

The Seneschal clenched his fist – then, with effort, released it. "How..."

He trailed off. Kenzotul waited patiently, not wanting to disturb the conclusion he was coming to.

"How do..." Sylpeiros stared out into the empty Human wastelands. His posture sagged, crushed by an invisible, inexorable weight. "How do we proceed from here? How do you apologize when there's no one left to apologize to? How do you atone for a crime that can't be taken back? Is it even possible?"

I'll let you know when I have the answer, Kenzotul thought.

In lieu of that, he drew strength from the words that had inspired him to change. A spur-of-the-moment thing spoken by a nervous Human in a now-destroyed Elven Village. Words that resonated like a ripple in a pond, spreading out far beyond their original source.

Until they one day became a towering wave.

"We do what we can," Kenzotul affirmed. "The future is written by the deeds of the present. As people who still live, people who are still here, we have a duty to help others. We must endeavor to leave the world a kinder place than when we entered it."

He paused. The next part was always hardest to accept. "Nor can we forget to live well for ourselves. Otherwise, it would be a disservice to all those who no longer can."

Sylpeiros remained quiet for a very long time.

Eventually, he straightened his posture. That invisible weight was still there, but he seemed able to bear it. "Then let's get to it, shall we? The future is already in motion – it won't sit idly by until I've finished grousing. If we don't strive to better it with our own hands, then we have no right to complain about the shape it takes."

He turned around, striding back towards the Elven encampment. As he went, the Seneschal muttered something to himself, so low that Kenzotul was certain it wasn't meant to be heard.

"Won't avert my eyes ever again."

--

"What's wrong, Rob?"

It took him several seconds to register the question. Too slowly, he turned to face Keira, who was wearing a concerned expression. Too quickly, he replied with a stilted "Nothing" that wouldn't have fooled a stranger, let alone the woman who loved him.

"Nothing, he says." Keira sat down next to him. "I recognize that look. What's on your mind? Is aught amiss?"

"No. Nothing bad happened. Nothing."

"Rob, don't–"

"I'm serious." His leg was twitching. "Things are going objectively fantastic. Our friends are living their best lives. The Skills are well on their way to being free. Political unrest between territories has died down. No random wars have popped up. There are problems, yeah, but they're easily manageable. I'm even visiting Earth later today! Been wanting that more than anything else for fucking forever now."

Keira hesitated. "Then what–"

"I don't KNOW!" Rob slammed a fist down on the table in front of him. It was with exceptional self-restraint that his blow only cracked the furniture in half rather than reducing it to splinters. "I should be over the goddamn moon! But then I started thinking of everything and just got so nervous. Like this is all a dream I'm going to wake up from. What if there's something I missed? Maybe–"

He was cut short by Keira laying her hand on top of his. She locked eyes with him, staring with a gaze that seemed to pierce directly into his soul.

"Rob. It's okay to be happy."

For a short period that felt like an eternity, he sat there, unmoving. No sound could be heard aside from the faint breathing of two people, both waiting.

Gradually, bit by bit...a part of his mind truly relaxed. As if it was a muscle that had been tensed for god knows how long.

"Yeah." Rob gently squeezed Keira's hand. "I guess it is."

A smile inched onto his face, and this time, it stayed there.

--

The hour had arrived.

Rob pointedly turned away from Malika and the dimension mages, doing his damnedest not to ask if they were close to finishing their preparations. He doubted the answer would change a fourth time around. His interruptions were just distracting the Mage Circle from an undertaking that demanded full concentration.

Magic that bypassed the barrier between worlds was a complex, dangerous enterprise. There was a stark difference between making a short-lived portal large enough to fit an arm or a letter, and making a continuous, stable portal that could fit a whole person. Rob could have placed Waymark on an item, tossed it through the smaller portal, then activated the Skill, but none of them were sure how that would interact with cross-world fuckery. He'd thought it wiser to sit tight until a safe alternative was ready.

And now, finally...it was. The dimension mages' R&D department had created reproducible magic for interdimensional portal travel. Malika's Mage Circle just needed to gather their mana, cast the spell, and Rob would be home again.

He'd never felt more jittery. Battling the gods had been less stressful than loitering in this room as the seconds painfully crawled by.

Orn'tol was the first to notice. "There's no reason to worry," the young Ranger assured, sending Rob a confident smile. "Malika wouldn't have approved this portal unless it was entirely free of risk. Isn't that right, Malika?"

"Yes," she mumbled, still focused on guiding her Mage Circle. "Also. Bring stuff back. Want tasty Earth food."

"And landscape paintings!" Faelynn added. "I'm not sure if it will ever be deemed safe for Fiends to journey to a manaless world, so pictures will have to suffice."

Vul'to waited his turn before calmly speaking up. "Rob, you getting to spend time with your loved ones is the only true gift I require." He paused. "Although if there's records of Earth-style armor and shields...I wouldn't be opposed to perusing that."

One-by-one, Riardin's Rangers chimed in, making requests for various kinds of souvenirs. Rob chuckled despite himself, his nerves settling as everyone bombarded him with bright-eyed faces and cheery dispositions. You guys are making it hard to feel anxious.

Meyneth froze in the middle of asking for Earth literature about draconic heroism. "Will your world's Leaders cause any issues?" she hastily inquired. "Let me rephrase – while they have seemingly accepted your imminent return, is there any chance that they will seek to politicize it for their own benefit?"

"Oh, if they could, they totally would." Rob's grin turned fierce. "Which is why Jason told them that I would be appearing a month from now, in a completely different location. This way him, me, and my parents will get our emotional reunion without a flood of news reporters and army dudes swarming around us. The three of them will be waiting for me when I step through."

The mages' portal would be opening up in the exact same spot that Rob had originally been kidnapped – right in his old college campus. Evidently, the barrier between worlds was weaker there due to the gods' tearing it open once already, so creating a portal would be easier.

For well over a year, it was a place that he'd only seen in recurring nightmares. Now it was his ticket home.

"Good to hear," Diplomacy remarked. Their mouth split into a grin that surpassed Rob's in its savagery. "But if the Earth politicians do end up causing trouble...well, you know where to find us. Wouldn't be the first time we've toppled a government."

"We did no such thing," Zamira sighed. "King Elnaril was the one who nearly ruined Harpy territory. By ending his villainy–"

"No, no," Keira interrupted, her tone growing mischievous. "Elnaril may have been a Blight's puppet, but he was their Leader – and we deposed him. That certainly sounds like toppling a government to me. Furthermore, it appears that you've conveniently neglected to mention our assassination of Stonewarden Grant."

"The Stonewarden launched Titan's Fist at Fiend territory!"

"Good thing we ended his reign, then. Overthrowing malevolent Leaders seems to solve our problems with startling efficiency. We should do it more often." Keira glanced at Rob. "Don't you agree?"

The Human's eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead. "You want me to answer as someone who's aware of how delicate and complicated Earth's situation is, or as your boyfriend supporting you in an argument?"

"The latter, if you please."

"Then I agree 100%." Rob shrugged with a 'what can you do?' motion. "No hard feelings, Zamira."

She let out a squawk of indignance as the rest of the Party laughed. For a passing instant, they forgot about everything besides that shared moment of mirth.

And then it was time.

The notice came without warning. "Portal's opening!" Malika suddenly cried out. "Anyone who isn't Rob, back away!"

Creak.

It was the sound of a rusted hinge, of crumpling paper, of breaking bones, and more. A combination of all the noises something made when subjected to an external force. Like the fabric of reality was groaning under impossible pressure.

Creeeak.

A thin, imperceptible line appeared at eye-level, dark as the endless void. Slowly, inch-by-inch, it widened.

CREEEAK.

It had become a large rectangle. Taller and wider than any human. After one last CREAK, reality threw in the towel. The void dissipated, as if it was smoke blown away by a gust of wind.

Revealing...

Rob's breath caught in his chest. With an air of both finality and beginning, he turned to face his Party members.

They nodded, understanding what had already been decided beforehand. When his friends were eventually cleared to visit, he would give them a personal tour, show them what he loved about his world.

But today?

Today was just for him.

Before he could second-guess himself, Rob smiled, waved, and walked into the portal.

The transition was oddly bereft of sensation. No different than traipsing through an open doorway. The most he felt was when his feet landed on the other side, crunching onto a small field of overgrown, untended grass in the center of his now-abandoned college.

Green, Rob noted. For someone who'd been subjected to Elatra's mishmash of foliage coloration, the sight of green grass, as it should be, brought him a sliver of gratification.

Just a sliver – before his focus was monopolized by the three people standing merely a few feet away.

Dad. Mom. Jason.

In the flesh. Standing and staring at him. Not a dream, nightmare, or hallucination. They were there, so close that he could plainly see the shock in their transfixed eyes.

Seconds passed without anyone moving or speaking. It was as if the world had been frozen in time.

Jason was the first to gather his wits. He lifted his hand in greeting, a devil-may-care grin spreading across his face. Rob had seen that expression on many occasions – always preceding a line or two of mild sarcasm. Something meant to ease tensions and break the ice.

It never came. Jason opened his mouth, but no words were forthcoming. His raised hand trembled slightly.

Then his composure shattered, and he was running forward.

In the blink of an eye, the four of them had joined into a group hug. Rob could hear his father's muted sobs of "my boy, my boy." Rob could see his mother's silent weeping, tears streaming down her cheeks. And Rob could feel Jason's iron grip, hugging so tightly that it was like a hydraulic press threatening to crack his bones.

There had been – until that very moment – a tiny part of Rob that was terrified of this reunion. An irrational, infinitesimal, persistent part of him. Always just a little worried that the people he'd left behind would reject him.

That they would take one look at him and say: "You've *changed.* You aren't the Rob I knew."

But this feeling...the warmth of their embrace...

It was exactly as he remembered.

"Hey, everyone." His voice was fragile yet firm, like tempered glass. "I made it."

They hugged even tighter. Rob returned the gesture in kind, his eyes closing shut. If they were trying to squeeze the tears out of him, then they'd succeeded.

"I'm back."

A sense of peace flowed through him as the last missing piece in his heart was filled.

"I'm here."

--

THE END