Jonathan hefted another box through the front door of his new house. It wasn’t as nice as his home in Washington, but he didn’t have to pay for it, and it beat a hotel room, so he didn’t feel the need to complain. The three-bedroom townhouse felt massive compared to the car and hotels.

He stopped inside the entryway and set down the cardboard container. He rolled his shoulder, marveling at the improved body that his stats provided him. He had only briefly looked at his Status Window since the mission, so he decided to bring it up and read through everything once more before David arrived.

Status

Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 16

Class: Berserker

HP: 290/290

MP: 100/100

Traits: (1/3)

{Rage}

Titles:

One Against Many

Physical Stats:

Strength: 46

Agility: 20

Constitution: 29

Vitality: 29

Magical Stats:

Intellect: 11

Willpower: 25

Mana: 10

Wisdom: 11

Active Skills:

[Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 9)

[Raging Breath] (Novice - Level 13)

[Intimidating Shout] (Novice - 1)

Passive Skills:

[Blood Lust] (Tier I)

[Pain Resistance] (Tier I)

The sound of tires crunching on salt-covered asphalt drew his attention, and a new Dodge pulled into the driveway. David stepped out of the car and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets before walking up the small path.

His son smiled and let out a breath into the chilly afternoon air. “You know, this is definitely an upgrade from the other one,” David said. “Though I guess anything would be better than the other based on how you told me you lost the other truck.”

Jonathan managed a smile. “Good drive back down?"

“Yeah, traffic wasn’t bad. Driving is a lot nicer than taking the train. Thanks for letting me use it.” He handed the keys back to Jonathan and stuck his head through the door. “Need some help moving these?”

“Sure. There’s not much left in the moving pod.”

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of them carrying boxes marked with simple labels like ‘Kitchen’ and ‘Clothes.’

Jonathan paused in the living room to take in the space. The only thing in the room was a coffee table and a few boxes with random items to be moved to other rooms.

“Planning on getting a TV?” David asked, setting down a box next to the table.

“Haven’t put too much thought into it. Probably, though. Don’t want you to get too bored. Been busy with the Association the last few days.”

“Yeah! You’re famous now. We got to see you on TV last night- well… I’m pretty sure the entire country saw you on TV last night. The emergency broadcast cut off pretty much every version of media to play live. The President’s speech about Taker’s death was pretty unbelievable.”

Jonathan’s shoulders sagged. He hadn’t wanted to do the speech, but Matthews insisted that it was part of his new role and that it would help the people trust the Association. “Just did what they asked.”

“People are calling you a hero online. The Crimson Warrior, my dad… pretty crazy…”

Jonathan wasn’t sure if he was referring to the state of the world, the president's announcement of the future, how much things had changed in the last few years, or the fact that he was something close to the equivalent of a modern-day Captain America.

“Let’s not…” Jonathan shook his head. “How’s the pre-med program been going? I know you’re finished with mid-terms. What’s next?”

David let out a small laugh. “Subtle subject change, Dad. But yeah, the exams went well. After the speech last night, though, it wouldn’t surprise me if Columbia started offering some sort of Awakening prep courses. Especially if the government is offering grants or incentive programs for the school, it probably will happen quickly.”

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Jonathan nodded, proud but not quite sure to express it. He smiled at his son and they moved the last few of the boxes into the house and put them in the rough locations that they’d be unpacked. They sat together on the coffee table to take a breather, when Jonathan remembered something he’d been given after the tense announcements the day before.

He walked over to his jacket hanging by the door and pulled out a Manila envelope. The classified stamps across the front stood out against the yellow paper.

“They released Marcus’s file yesterday,” he said quietly. “Director Matthews said that there is a memorial stone for him and the others at Arlington. His name is probably etched up there.” His chest tightened. “I thought maybe we could…”

David’s face was serious. “Yeah. Yeah, we should go see it.”

The light mood from earlier settled into something heavier as they grabbed their jackets and walked to Jonathan’s new truck. He wasn’t sure how it would feel to look at his own son’s memorial, but he felt better knowing that they would be facing the monument together.

The drive to Arlington Cemetery was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Winter had stripped the short and stocky east coast trees bare. The rain from the previous evening had frozen overnight and the streets were covered in salt.

Jonathan parked near the newer section where they’d placed the memorial for those lost to the Rifts.

The stone was large, black granite with inlaid gold lettering. Marcus’s name was etched into it and it took some time to find among the sea of names and dates. There were plenty of names added in the few weeks since Marcus’s own death, and someone had left fresh flowers at the base of the stone, despite the cold.

Jonathan pulled the envelope from his jacket. His cold hands were surprisingly steady despite the nervousness he felt in his stomach. He cleared his throat and began to read from the official report.

“At 2147 hours on October 3rd, Sergeant Marcus Reeves led the third squad of Charlie Company, 2nd Ranger Battalion into an anomalous spatial distortion approximately 52 miles northwest of Yakima Training Center.” Jonathan paused as he felt David put a hand on his shoulder and look at the report over his shoulder to read along. “Upon entry, all electronic equipment experienced immediate failure. Squad emerges from the anomaly to regroup and assess.”

He paused, drawing a deep breath before continuing. It was impossible for him not to read this and remember his own years spent in the unit and the stress of unknown territory on a deployment. “At 2213 hours, the squad re-entered with minimal gear. Inside conditions noted as daylight and environment characterized as a rocky desert drain. At approximately 2000 meters from the entry point, the squad encountered hostile entities estimated to be 8-10 feet in height and utilizing primitive weapons.”

David stood silently. Jonathan had more images flash through his mind, remembering the first Rift he’d entered, and the dried blood of the ambush site he’d found within the Rift.

“Initial contact resulted in four casualties. Standard ammunition proved ineffective against alien species hide. Close-quarters combat ensued. Statement from Private First Class-“ The name was still redacted. Despite the details of the document being cleared for his viewing, it looked like they wanted to keep the identities of the few survivors classified. Jonathan could respect the decision and continued to read. “‘The things were fast, way too fast for their size. Sergeant Reeves recognized the trap before any of us. He called contact and ordered an immediate retreat. We moved quickly, shooting and moving to a small choke point. We were hoping to regroup.”

Jonathan’s voice wavered as he read the next part. “When Santos went down, Sergeant Reeves broke formation to get him clear. He kept fighting after his rifle was taken and bent in half. He didn’t stand a chance against the beast in a fistfight, but he used his sidearm to knee-cap the biggest of them. He dragged Santos back and ordered the group to keep moving. He stayed in the choke point as Corporal Andrews led the few wounded and alive back through the rocky terrain to get out of that hell. Sarge bought us enough time for us to get clear.”

The report continued with the tactical assessment and one other personal statement. There were casualty numbers and further dates and details about their exfiltration and the following setup of the researchers around the Rift. Jonathan and David stopped reading.

The clinical words couldn’t capture what his son had done.

“He saved them,” David said quietly. “Just like he always did for everyone.”

Jonathan felt a pain in his chest, and his eyes immediately watered at David's words. He could hear the pain in his son’s voice. Folding the papers carefully, he said, “Yeah. Your brother always was a natural hero.” He reached out and touched the hold stone with his fingers. “Sometimes, I think about what he’d say about all this. You know? About the Hunters and everything we know now.”

“He’d probably say we’re both being too serious,” David managed a small smile. “But he’d be proud, Dad. Of both of us. He was constantly trying to push us back together.”

Jonathan nodded and was surprised to believe it. “You know, when you chose pre-med, I… I was wrong. There is more than one way to protect people, son.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Dad. I don’t think I could do this alone.”

Watching their breath fog in the cold December air, they stood together a while longer before making their way back to the truck. Unsure of what to say after such a serious moment, Jonathan walked next to his youngest son as they walked through the large veteran’s cemetery toward the truck.

“Can, uh, can we get some lunch?” David smiled guiltily as he held his arm to his stomach and shrugged.

They laughed softly together and made their way to the truck and discussed takeout options. As they pulled out of the cemetery, Jonathan felt a sense of cautious optimism. It would take time to heal, and the road ahead would be difficult. But, he felt that with David at his side, he could face whatever the Rifts had in store. It felt like a new chapter for their small family.

He spared one more glance at the memorial in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road ahead.