From the fact that I'm writing this you can probably tell that I’m alive and at the very least, able to type. Well, after being kept unconscious for a week and a bit, I made a full recovery!

The thing is, there were people who didn’t want that. There were a couple reasons that the people of Babel city didn’t like me, after everything was said and done.

First of all, there was the obvious stuff, I had threatened multiple International personal, the guys guarding the rebirthing fluid and Hunter. As it turns out, there are a lot of cameras placed over the city. They’d basically seen everything I'd done except, thankfully, the stuff that happened on the landing strip of the airport.

So nobody has seen my face, secret identity is secret. They showed me the footage of when I went to get the time ball from Charlie, completely unrecognisable as a person. Thankfully.

In the days I'd been conscious, Charlie never came to visit.

That was another point the city was making against me, that I'd mentally scarred one of their saviours. The story the lawyers were spinning, (or whatever jobs those guys had), was that I had intimidated her into breaking her contract with the Internationals, handing over that tech to me.

It was one of many charges, if anything it was more of a threat to her than me- it would mean a complete termination of their private contract, or at least they’d have to rework it. There was a huge mess about it, but Charlie never made any public announcements.

I don’t think I'll see her for a long, long time. And that’s probably for the best. For her.

The most important point against me was the fact that I had empowered the Channeler and made contact with the Beast. The latter is apparently a globally issue. Soon after Jack had been dealt with, Hand-maid, or Santina Maria, was called to clean up the mess.

I know she can teleport, but in my mind, it seems impossible for her to deal with something of that sheer size, the fact that she could just teleport a something the size of a mountain...

Anyway, my presence provoked it, Jungle Beast Tlaloc, it started to make its way to the shore, and it ‘begun using its none passive abilities’, whatever that means. There was a huge scare about it, public safety and all. Maybe if this had been my first time going through this sort crap, I'd have been freaking out over that detail, but I don’t mind. My actions lead to both of the city's major problems getting solved.

It’s not like I was looking to be worshipped as their saviour, but I would have liked a little credit. That being said, Babel did sort of run a victory lap, they celebrated a couple people's involvement. Ali, Charlie K, and Aayan were all hailed as heroes in the end. Noticeably, Isaac and Yuki were excluded, Aayan was probably only included to satisfy his family, at least a little.

Yuki didn’t seem to mind; they did give her a bonus in the end. I’m sure they knew that would be enough to satisfy her, the same goes for Isaac. I heard his aid was enough to solidify the alliance between the Ints and his nation. I don’t really get it, what with Creh-umha being a part of a terrorist group, I guess they can just overlook it as long as the mess is kept between him and Axel. Though I'm sure if they had to choose between Artificial intelligence or aqua-man, they’d choose the latter.

Well, despite everything that happened they did help me recover, if after a two-week period. They could have just dumped a canister on me and be done with it, but they rationed it to me, while making attempts to remove toxins from my body. There were arguments over whether they should heal me at all. In the end, the party that supported me trumped the other.

Who was it that helped me out in the end? Was it Bob? No, of course not.

With the death of the city’s director, they needed to elect a new one, and with the large reconstruction of the city, there was at least one person left thankful for what I'd done.

“Haha, I guess I really do have a lot to thank you for then!”

I didn’t recognise the man that came to visit me. This was my fourth day awake, and he had a friendly face at least. It was better than the people who’d come in asking me questions. I prefer to be the one asking, rather than answering.

“Sorry, but do I know you?”

Though I was glad for the company, I was tired from the blood transfusions they were performing. Not to mention the check-ups with Dr Attrition.

The man, who was quite young, about my height, laughed, “Yeah, a lot of people have been asking that for a while. Though, you and I have met. I was at the meeting, you know, the one where your friend, the Bastard crowned girl told everyone who she was?”

I knew what he was talking about, but I still didn’t remember him.

He shook his head, “My name’s Yoshida Lindenburg,” he stretched out his hand, before retracting it awkwardly.

Behind my bandaged face I lowered an eyebrow. Like I said, they were being stingy with the rebirthing fluid, I’d been given enough to reform up to my knuckles at the time. It’s not like they could just put the thing back on. It was trapped within an indestructible sphere, but we’ll get there when we get there.

“You see, I'm an engineer, I make robots! Maybe you recognise some of my work? I’m often overshadowed by Axle Right, but I’m an integral part of this institution. Oh, I was the guy who designed the frame of the Gator the Channeler kept summoning! Though, Right ended up co-opting that project... Anyway, in the rebuilding, my suits have been an integral part of the process: Reconstruction, decontamination, they might not have done a lot against the enemy, but they were there too!”

I didn’t really understand why he was blabbering on to me.

“Apparently, the CEO has greatly appreciated my contribution. I’m now the Director of Babel! Honestly, I don’t know how long I'm going to hold the position for, but I’ve effectively gotten to the top without the years of work that you’d usually need to put in! Haha, really, I thought that Dr Attrition would have taken over, but to think a researcher as low down as me would come so far. Thanks!”

I was trying to narrow my vision on him, but it was blurred. “What are you thanking me for?”

He looked confused, like it was obvious, “Well, if you hadn’t interfered, then Greem would still be alive. You opened his spot.”

I could hear a snap.

I told him, “I can get out of this bed you know. I feel like crap, and I'm missing an arm...”

I paused. He looked at me with a tilt to his head.

“But I can still get out of this bed.” My words came out in a growl.

He had a bizarre expression on his face and backed up to the door.

I leaned forward, feeling only worse.

I can’t say if what I did was for the best or not, but- but I couldn’t do nothing, right? I just couldn’t get in that air craft and float away into the clouds.

Speaking of which, that’s what Clover did in the end, she made it home alright, never checking to see why I didn’t come back. Well, I did make it back home.

Again, a story for another time, let’s stay on track.

Let’s talk about my last day there.

I was getting used to having a hand again, flexing it as the doctor began taking her session with me.

“This will be your last day here. How does that make you feel?”

Attrition had a knack for avoiding leading questions, guess that was a part of her job. A psychologist, though one focusing on the supernatural, whatever that really means.

“I really should have left this place ages ago. I’ve got two lives to get back to.”

“The man under the mask, and the mask itself. I understand. Though I'll tell you this much. Your fear is irrational.”

I gave a laugh, “I thought as much. Nobody is going to care who I am. I really don’t have anybody that somebody could use to get to me, not like in the comics. Honestly, you could take anyone hostage and I'd treat it just as seriously.”

She was sitting across the room from me, I was sitting up in bed, a guard's mask covering my face.

The doctor looked into it with her dark eyes, “Besides that, the ‘superhero’ persona that you identify with, your main draw to that mask seems to be... the ability to choose. The anonymity.”

I stood up, giving myself a good stretch, “To choose what?”

She continued, “To choose how people see you. This isn’t exactly a special or unique response to social interactions. People act differently when around certain company. You wouldn’t treat Robert the same way you treat me.”

I nodded, “Because your someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Because he’s someone you’re familiar with,” she half smiled, “he’s good at that, being welcoming. That’s why I took an interest in him.”

She shifted the subject back, “The difference is that you are afraid, indecisive. You don’t want to form a single type of relationship with a person. You want options when it comes to the type of person you are. You want to be seen as abrasive, and approachable. Meek yet powerful.”

“What, you think I'm bi-polar?”

“Obviously not,” there was a dry humour in her voice, “that would be all too simple.”

She grabbed a clipboard that had been leaning against the leg of her chair, “I wanted to wait until... just as long as possible. I assume you don’t know how you became a Unit, or how...” She was trailing off, all the while looking at me with some thought.

I turned to face her head on, sitting on the very edge of my hospital bed.

She put on a pair of reading glasses and went through what she had written down.

“There are the obvious injuries, the splinter like stab wounds, bruising on your arms, the broken ribs, the acidic burns. That by itself was something you’d have not surviving if you were a man. But there was that ‘venom’. Understand, we had to get rid of that before administrating any foam. It was a biological agent.”

She raised a hand, “I believe it was Robert who let it slip that those monsters scattered throughout the city were being subjected to research, correct? Well, there was the pig, it was being studied by one of my associates, the research material derived from it was put towards the psychic network between the cities. Then there was the Golem that you decommissioned. A project of mine.”

There was a slight edge in her voice.

“D’you want me to apologise?” I asked.

“No,” Attrition sighed, “we’ll save that for later.”

“What I want to talk about is that creature and its venom. Of course, if we were simply interested in a fatal poison, we’d study a creature that produces it. But don’t go thinking we’d keep it on American soil. There government wouldn’t allow it, and they’re too important to deceive. We keep our weapons research to less valued territories, or international waters. So long as the study of a dangerous creature is being put towards the betterment of mankind, we’ll unanimously see it as moral and right.”

“I’ll tell you right now, Robert and that exterminator were wrong. It wasn’t a venom. It was... a communion. Regularly, it would be fatal, but only because it would increase the processing of the mind beyond human limits. Those audible hallucinations, most likely weren’t fantasies. They were the Twenty-seven.”

I reacted to that. It would explain where that information came from, how I knew about the time ball. One thing that didn’t explain was why that voice had decided to help me.

At the time, it seemed like something to keep secret from Attrition, but she already knew, I’m sure, even if she couldn’t read my body language.

“I found something while pocking around your brain. Figuratively and literally. As you know, that body of yours has been enhanced. I’ll guess that you woke up one night and it just so happened that you had powers. But there were changes you couldn’t possibly notice. An enhanced processing and planning speed, the frontal lobe in general was showing a lot of activity, even while unconscious.”

“My point is, after you became Unitary, you were changed in every capacity, mental and physical.”

She rushed to follow up now, “That on its own, simply an interesting facet of your abilities. If that was all, I wouldn’t have taken the time to look over your case. The thing is, from our meetings and further studies, I’ve found something out about you.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“You understand the Harpocratic condition, or more commonly, the ignorance effect, that certain people are predisposed to ignore certain events, evidence, or facts. That mundane algorithms ignore certain posts on the internet. This affects everything in the world during June. I myself am an expert on the topic.”

“To put it bluntly, there are events in your life, in your past, that you have chosen to ignore, or repress. Typically, this is impossible. Units regain the ability to recall such events after going Unitary excluding something of June’s calibre.”

Maybe I should have reacted with a little shock, but there was no such feeling in me. I wasn’t too surprised to hear that there was something strange about my origin.

The one thing that I’d heard from Bastard the Mountain king was that not even June can erase your emotional state, at least when it comes to that ignorance phenomenon.

When I think about SP2, I feel sick.

There was something I'd really wanted to ask, “What makes you an expert on the ignorance effect Doc?”

She looked up at me from her clipboard.

“It’s just, if I remember correctly, you knew about the Channeler’s ability to recall the events of June, but you didn’t know how to combat him.”

She half smiled, “I’m... not a combatant. I’m a researcher. I’ve spent years searching for an exemption to that rule.”

I nodded, “But you know, Jack said something before I cut him off, that you knew more than you were letting on.”

Her smile held, “I realise you want some kind of confession, a sort of answer to who’s fault all of this was, but you’re not going to get it like that, not from me, and not by directing a general statement towards me.”

I kept pushing, “I wasn’t implying that you were the person he was looking for. I was thinking broadly, you said you were an expert, and he said you people were hiding more than you let on. Now that I've had a little time to think it over, I wonder exactly how it is that you learned there were gaps in memories. From learning my personality, or some sort of super brain scanner you just had out-back? That’s unlikely. And then there’s our sessions. You come in here ask me a few questions, allow people to visit, drop little hints of stuff I'd like to hear more about, like the Golem, dividing my attention-” I took in a breath, “-And another thing, you were sitting in the board room meeting, meaning you are a Unit, meaning you have powers, powers that aren’t combative.”

I was catching myself now, “That, with the whole ‘expert on the phenomenon that makes people gloss over memories’ seems very suspicious, when the only person in the world who can physically remember those events comes looking for a high ranking Int in this City, makes it sort of difficult for me to not accuse you of hiding something.”

She gave me a second to catch my breathe.

Attrition kept that smile, “Secrecy and schemes are something I deal with, but only tangentially. As a researcher, I solve mysteries. As a higher up, I deal with people plotting all sorts of ways to rise through the ranks. Oh, and I guess you could count my invention. I’m the one who developed technologies that can render certain places imperceptible to first-worlders and attract monsters.”

“In short, manipulating information,” I jabbed.

“Yes. And I’ll confirm both of your suspicions now. My other ability, apart from developing such technology, is to ‘hypnotise’ people. I did, at least temporarily erase your recollection of parts of our sessions, that’s how I found out that somebody else had been poking around in there. And don’t worry, I can’t make you reveal your secrets to me, I just made you forget unnecessary details, procedures too painful.”

“I assure you, the lies you tell yourself and those closest to you are completely safe, Shamrock.”

She added a raised eyebrow to her half mocking smile, yet that dark look in her eyes was still there.

Everything but that shadowy stare fell away in a frown as she continued, “Secondly, yes, I am the type of person to have done it.”

Attrition stared off into the distance, “I’m the type of person who would choose to sacrifice a country for the world. Lord so help me, that’s most likely where this soul crushing feeling comes from every July.”

There was a slight break in her accent, a southern tang to it. Before saying anything else I let the silence hang for a second.

“Do you... believe in God, doctor?”

She was quiet, she probably knew why I was asking, but she replied, “Why do you ask?”

I fiddled with my fingers, half out of nervousness.

“Well, you just brought up the ‘lord’, and- and you said you were studying the Golem-”

I trailed off.

She looked me up and down, and finally the therapist dynamic had shifted.

“I grew up in a religious sect. Most folk’d call it a cult, but it was much older than the modern meaning of that word. We lived in a sort of Amish community; is how I'd describe it to someone who doesn’t understand. My mother traded her life for mine. My father never forgave me. He denied me my humanity, any sort of familial bond to them. His name wasn’t even Attrition, he’d called me that because- well, I'll save you that vulgar detail.”

“We prayed seven times a day, and still the summer was too hot to grow grain, the winters were too cold for some folk, and there wasn’t a day gone by that I wasn’t at least a little bit miserable. Eventually, I left. I went looking for answers to why the world is the way it is. I didn’t find much, but I found these people early on in life. I wonder if I’d found different answers had I gone to Europe or Russia.”

I was quiet, and she finished, “You don’t want to know if I believe there’s a Lord up there, you want to know if he is real.”

In my mind, I half saw an image of her overlay with Grey. I say half, because those eyes don’t exactly match up.

She asked me her last question.

“How did you dismantle the Golem? That wouldn’t have been possible for someone who hasn’t studied the torah for a lifetime.”

She was fully focused on me now, reading my movements, minute gestures.

Eventually, I smiled, “I saw somebody do it in a dream.”

.

.

.

I was in the front of a Yuki’s car, heading off to the airport for my departure. It was prepped and ready to take off, we just had to make it through a finally stretch of traffic.

I made an argument I'd made ten times during the ride, “This’d go by a lot quicker if I just walked.”

She smiled, maybe she was actually enjoying how stubborn I was being, “We’ve been over this kid, if they catch you doing something like that, you’ll be targeted as a criminal. You make a mess when you jump up that high. And also, you’re sort of dressed like-”

She burst out laughing.

“It’s a classic,” I argued weakly.

“What the hell does that mean? Holy crap, you’re wearing under pants! What about that is classic?”

I shook my head, feeling deep down that I was being stupid, and it was climbing up the more people laughed at me.

“I’m not gonna walk you through the list, but tons of super heroes start off with this. Before they get their iconic costume made, they wear whatever street clothes they can scrape together, typically hoodies, though that’s not a rule. They’d have their logo spray painted onto the front. A ski mask or something to that effect, and a pair of underpants.”

“That! That’s the bit that doesn’t make any sense! Why, would anybody wear them like that when the fly up-up and away to fight aliens?”

“One of the inspirations for the modern super man were circus strong men, they’d be dressed in a loin cloth with leopard print-”

She laughed as the cars started moving again, “Right-right, and the hospital couldn’t get you that or spray paint, huh?”

I steered away from the stuff about underwear, heading into what she’d said about the paint, “I don’t have a symbol to paint.”

She was mocking me now, “Oh no! How else are you gonna saturate the market with merchandise around your crime-fighting endeavours. Hey, ten years from now, when the cinematic universe catches up with us, can I be played by- Well, I can’t think of any Inuit actresses... But how about Cara Delevingne, she’s sort of weird-hot, and it’d be cool if I were British...”

She was giggling to herself as I was only now realising that she wasn’t Caucasian. Then I was thinking about whether that was racist or not. It probably is racist that I'm bringing it up now, right?

While I was getting anxious about that, I put a stop to whatever she was talking about, “That’s enough, alright? I’m here by choice. It’s not like the child lock on this door will do anythin’.”

She shrugged, “Well, if you want to be treated seriously, then maybe you shouldn’t dress like nobody’s watching.”

The excitement faded from her, “Maybe that’s why Bob took a liking to you. You’re pretty similar.”

As I was about to deny her, I remembered two things: one, when I met Bob, I was also half naked. Maybe a better half to be naked, but not a lot better when I'm wearing a shoddy mask.

Second, I started thinking about how he hadn’t come to visit me in the hospital.

“Sure,” I whispered.

Maybe she sensed that I was in a darker place than she’d have liked.

“He’s been pretty busy lately. He actually got a promotion in the end, for aiding Hunter. And he had to look after his sister, that’s the type of guy he is. Family first. He abandoned her once; he’s not going to go and do it again right after-”

She stopped herself suddenly- I didn’t know why at first, but with a little context clue, even I was able to pick up on what she was avoiding.

“I traumatised his sister-” Yuki tried to argue otherwise, but I knew it was true, “That entire time, I was the only person, the only thing she could rely on. To keep her safe, to just understand what it’s like for someone... timid. For someone who’s horrified at the situation-”

“And you showed her the face of her hero, half a skull and some slopping skin,” Yuki took off the kid’s gloves.

“But so what? If she can’t keep upbeat, that’s on her.”

Those words made me spike back up, “What the hell are you-”

“Everybody has a first time dealing with stuff like this. And that wasn’t hers. She was at that massacre, the Right corporations one-year anniversary. Then there was the space programme, your familiar with the Gator, right? What happened to your little town, but werewolves showed up to complicate things, and I'm pretty sure there was some acid rain or something.”

“Then there was the event that made her break up with Axel Right,” There was a more serious tone to that one.

“Something to do with cheese, is what I heard from Bob.”

I almost laughed, and that cheered Yuki up.

But the joy died away from me quickly.

“But did she ever see someone she knew dead? I don’t know if you’ve... It’s different. When you think things have cooled down. When you’re about to head home, you twist the door knob to your house-”

I chocked. I got the feeling that I wasn’t talking about Charlie anymore.

“-and you find someone dead. Out of nowhere, someone you’d seen as strong is just-”

“Ahh, shut it.”

I looked up. When she said something harsh earlier, it made me mad, but now that she was directing that at me...

“You’re gonna see a lot more people dead. Some you know, some you don’t. But you can’t let it set your pace. You need to keep living life, whether it’s in a suit, or your underpants. Most importantly, you need to keep it light. Get angry, be afraid, hell, be sad about it if you can manage. But in our world, it’s laugh or cry. Never cry kid.”

I felt like there was some more she needed to say, but she never came out with it.

“The Electric Dance king taught me that.”

We arrived just shortly after a moment of silence between us.

I got out of the car with a sack, filled with my stuff and Clover’s. She’d left her laptop, phone, and clothes at the apartment. I had the dented frying pan and some other trinkets stored away.

Yuki called out to me through her rolled down window.

“Kid, about Bob, he’s the type of guy who won’t let things go, but he isn’t the type of person who changes his opinion of somebody.”

She smiled and drove off. I stood around, looking for the entrance.

There were some problems with security, nothing major. I showed them some documents that the city had given me. Then, the guards ushered me through to another checkout, I showed the same files, and got pushed through to shorter que. A guy at a till told me which landing zone to go to, and how to get there without interfering with other flights.

I was tired by the end of it all. When I got to the craft, I stood at the foot of the door, wondering if I should knock or, if I was supposed to wait.

While I had my hand raised to the metal frame, through was a clunk from inside, a step falling down to greet me, and the door opened.

I looked up as it did so, seeing him. I thought they’d have gotten someone other than Bob.

He had a hand against the doorframe, looking down on me. His stubble was a little longer, and his eyes were darker.

He took a step back as I climbed up.

He opened his mouth... and closed it. He slunk back in. I just stood there.

Eventually my body moved on its own, I just hobbled up those steps and into the messy shuttle.

It might have been a little stripped back, missing a few items, at least on the left-hand side, in the back. Materials they didn’t want me going near? The higher-ups I mean. Though I wouldn’t have put it past Bob move some things away from the guy who traumatised his sister.

I felt like that should be the first thing to acknowledge, and that might have been the right thing to do... But I can’t be Shamrock for nearly a month. I need to be Sam. Weak and timid. That’s just who I am. Partially at least.

I was choking on the guilt I felt.

I saw him on my right as the door closed behind me. He was sitting with his back to me, doing something with the controls.

I sat in the passenger seats, the closest to the door in fact, but then he finally said something.

“You can come up front if you want.”

I didn’t feel like I was in a position to refuse, so, begrudgingly, I sat beside him.

It was definitely tense. A little hot, if I'm being honest. Maybe that was just because I had a helmet on my head. Maybe it was just the heating.

While I sat there with nothing to do, Bob fiddled with the controls, flipped some switches, looked at some stuff, before finally taking off. It was quick and clean. I haven’t been on an aeroplane or helicopter, but I assume they take a while to get ready, that there’s some build up to it.

We rose up. I could just about feel it pulling me down, the force of take-off, but over whelming that was relief. Leaving that city was like lifting a weight from my shoulders, I could get back to my life. Maybe I wouldn’t be doing much in my small town, but it was the feeling of freedom that I wanted, that I had the opportunity to make my own choices and not get wrapped up in whatever these factions were doing.

Though, I do have some long-term goals. For dealing with this large-scale crap when I'm prepared.

I thought it was stupid at the time, but when we started moving forward, I let out a gasp of air, sinking into my seat. Afterwards, I noticed Bob tighten his grip on the steering. That made me tense up again.

It returned after momentarily slipping my mind.

I’d compare the rise to when I first got into Grey’s jet, but that was black, this cockpit was just dirty, and the seats were switched, Bob’s was an American design, driver on the left. Or pilot, I guess.

I looked over to him, turning my neck. He did the same, hiding his face. I suppose I was doing the same.

I gulped back my insecurities, getting ready to say anything.

“Kid...” started Bob, taking me by surprise, “I- uhm...”

I braced myself.

“I can’t begin to apologise.”

I looked at him now, I wasn’t simply facing him anymore.

“How old are you?” He asked.

It came out of the blue, “I’m 19, I guess.” It had become a hard question to answer since Irminsul.

“Nine-teen. Fucking nine-teen! Your entire life ahead of you and how many times have you nearly been killed under my watch?”

I almost laughed.

I tried to reassure him, but he continued, “Minutes after we met, I told you how to get to a monster. I’d be fine with just that, I could shift some of the blame on you and your powers, or at least on your... quirky behaviour,” I looked down at my underpants, “but over June I just... abandoned you. I didn’t even try to warn you about it. I thought your blood was on my hands. And again, I made excuses-”

“-how could I know what would and wouldn’t put you at risk? But when I saw you in that hospital bed- when they brought you in-”

He kept himself together long enough to turn on the auto pilot.

With a groan in his voice he cried, “I was with you that entire day, but I was just dead weight. You went to get that foam for me, and I couldn’t give you a drop when your body was melting. And after you woke up- I just couldn’t-”

He took a break, “I couldn’t look at you. Recovering from injuries you received because I wasn’t guarding you.”

I leaned forward in my seat. It was like looking all over for something and finding it in your pocket. He had been there. I just didn’t see him because I was unconscious for half of my stay.

I also realised what it was Yuki meant when she said Bob had taught her not to cry.

He turned to face me, and I could see the snot dripping down his face, even through the black plastic of my helmet.

I guess what Yuki meant was, that at least somebody in the room has to keep their shit together. That’s just how the world is.

All I could do was try and console him, tell him it wasn’t his fault that I'd been beaten and melted and poisoned, and a lot of other things.

After I realised that wasn’t working, I finally gained the courage to say it.

“I’m sorry... A-about Charlie.”

He responded like I had, he told me it wasn’t my fault, that it was just something that...

I can’t really remember what he was saying. It honestly doesn’t matter.

Only I can know when I'm wrong. It’s something I decide. Between the two of us, I was the one who had been stupid. Bob, the E.D king, the man who danced in the nude, had taught me just a little about responsibility.

Hopefully, that, and his last name are the only thing he has in common with Uncle Ben.

In that unnamed flying machine, surrounded by empty packets of American confections and unwashed clothes; with the heat a little too high, and a pilot whose composure had broken, I made my return to Ireland.