Downtown Indianapolis, Indiana

---Hail---

The cold night air hits me like a slap as I stumble out of the bar, the neon sign above buzzing faintly in protest of its own existence. The city hums around me-cars honking in the distance, laughter spilling out of open doorways, music pounding from some club a block away. It's all noise, blending together into one big, pointless roar.

I lean against the wall for a second, the rough bricks biting into my palm as I try to steady myself. My head feels like it's full of static, the kind that won't clear no matter how hard you shake it.

"Stupid," I mutter, my voice barely audible over the chaos around me. "Stupid... just stupid."

I push off the wall, my boots scraping against the pavement as I take an unsteady step forward. The puddles beneath me ripple with each misstep, reflecting the dull glow of the streetlights. I catch sight of my mask pushed up on my forehead and shove it back down over my face. Not that it matters-most people are too busy avoiding the drunk guy to care what I look like.

Then I bump into someone. No, not bump-crash.

"Watch where you're going!" the guy snaps, his voice sharp and annoyed.

I look him over-stocky, short, clearly someone who thinks he's tougher than he is. I can't help but let out a low laugh.

"Maybe you should watch it," I slur, squaring my shoulders. My hand drifts to the hilt of my sword, and I know it's stupid-really stupid-but my body's already moving on instinct.

The guy doesn't back down, though. He takes a step closer, puffing out his chest like he's got something to prove. "What's your problem, huh? You think you're some kinda big shot?"

I lean in, the alcohol making me bolder than I have any right to be. "You really don't wanna do this," I growl, my voice low and full of venom.

He flinches, just barely, but before I can press it, a familiar voice slices through the fog.

"Hail, that's enough. Leave him alone!"

I glance over my shoulder, squinting as Dylan steps out of the shadows. His face is calm, almost too calm, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. Behind him, Keegan and Kylen stand with their arms crossed, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else.

Dylan doesn't even look at the guy I nearly decked. He just steps between us, his hand clamping down on my shoulder like a vice.

I laugh. "He hit me Dylan."

"Yeah and what, you're gonna kill him for it? I think he has learned his lesson. Now let's go!"

The guy backs off with some half-hearted curse, but I'm not letting him go without a parting shot.

"Yeah, walk away!" I shout, my voice echoing down the street.

Kylen lets out an exaggerated sigh behind me. "Really?"

Keegan moves in, grabbing my arm and slinging it over his shoulder like I'm some pathetic wounded animal. "You've really outdone yourself this time," he mutters, his tone somewhere between exasperation and resignation.

"Must you always ruin the fun? I had it handled," I say, the words slurring together as I try to shake him off.

"Sure you did," Dylan says dryly, already turning to lead the way back to Smith Tower.

"Come on Hail! You are just drunk is all. Let's go back to the tower and you can hit me all you want." Keegan says, half joking.

The walk feels longer than usual, each step a Herculean effort as Keegan half-drags me along. The lights of the city blur together, the sounds becoming distant, like I'm watching it all happen from underwater.

"We've gotta stop letting him do this," Kylen mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

I'm not supposed to hear that, but I do. My chest tightens, and for a moment, I think about saying something-snapping back, proving them wrong. Instead, I just laugh.

"Home sweet home," I mutter as the glowing silhouette of Smith Tower looms ahead.

"We're not even close," Keegan says, shaking his head. "You're lucky I'm in shape. You're dead weight."

"Dead weight?" I bark out a laugh, my voice rasping. "Pretty sure I could bench you on my worst day."

Keegan smirks. "Maybe in your dreams, Hail."

Dylan chimes in from up ahead. "Let's hope you don't dream about that. We've already got enough nightmares to deal with."

Kylen snorts. "Speaking of nightmares, Hail, you owe me for the last bottle of vodka you demolished. That stuff's imported, you know."

I groan. "Oh, come on. One bottle? You're acting like I trashed your whole stock."

"You would if I let you," Kylen shoots back, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

"Don't encourage him," Dylan says, glancing over his shoulder. "The last thing we need is Hail thinking he's some kind of connoisseur."

Keegan chuckles. "I'd pay good money to see Hail review wine. 'This one tastes like grapes. And bad decisions.'"

I can't help but laugh at that, the sound rough but genuine. It's rare we get moments like this-light, easy. Even if they're dragging my sorry ass back home, I can't help but feel... grateful, in a way I'd never admit out loud.

We keep walking, the city growing quieter as we leave the bar-lined streets behind. The glow of Smith Tower gets closer with each step, and the static in my head starts to fade just a little.

"Thanks," I mumble under my breath, not looking at any of them.

"What was that?" Kylen asks, his tone playful. "Did Hail just say something nice?"

"Must be the booze talking," Keegan replies with a grin.

"Don't get used to it," I mutter, but there's no heat in my voice.

The banter continues all the way to the Tower, a reminder that, despite everything, I'm not alone in this.

---Alyse---

The controller vibrates in my hands as I dodge another attack, but it's no use. The screen flashes GAME OVER in bold, mocking letters.

"Ugh, again?" I toss the controller onto the couch and lean back with a groan. Kat smirks from her spot next to me, twirling an arrow between her fingers like she's showing off.

"You've gotta learn to dodge-roll better," she teases, her tone light but dripping with that signature Kat confidence. "It's like, Gaming 101."

Claire, sitting cross-legged on the floor with another controller in hand, gives me a sympathetic look. "Don't listen to her, Alyse. The bosses in this game are ridiculously overpowered." She pauses, adjusting her glasses as if to emphasize her point. "It's poor game design, really."

"Or," Kat cuts in, "it's a skill issue." She winks at me, and I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't get stuck.

"Next time, you handle the undead dragon," I retort, crossing my arms.

Kat grins. "Gladly. Those things are way more fun to fight than the stupid goblin mages. Those guys just spam spells like noobs."

The three of us are sprawled across the lounge, surrounded by empty soda cans, chip bags, and a few discarded game manuals for Caverns and Critters. The game's been our obsession for the past few nights, ever since Kylen's gaming company sent over a demo. He claims it's still in development, but honestly? It's already better than half the games out there. Probably personal bias though since it was made to resemble life on Naurus.

"You know," Claire says, breaking the silence as the game reloads, "if this was a real scenario, I'd just heal everyone and we'd be fine. These mana potions are useless."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Yeah, well, not all of us have 'divine healing powers,' Remedy," Kat says with a sarcastic lilt. "Some of us have to rely on pure skill and determination."

"Some of us also die within thirty seconds of the fight starting," I shoot back, earning a laugh from Claire.

"Touché," Kat admits, raising her hands in mock surrender.

The banter is easy, comfortable. It's moments like this-away from the chaos, the fighting, the constant planning-that feel the most real. For a while, we can just be... normal. Friends. No missions, no life-or-death stakes.

The door to the lounge creaks open, and we all glance up to see Dylan poking his head in.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft but carrying that calm, grounded tone he always has. "You guys mind if I join?"

I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. "Sure. But fair warning-I'm terrible at this game."

"Don't worry," he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "I'll carry the team."

Kat snorts. "Big talk for someone who hasn't even played yet."

Dylan sits down next to me, grabbing a controller. His shoulder brushes mine, and I feel a flicker of warmth that has nothing to do with the room's temperature.

"I'll prove it," he says, giving me a small smile. "I happen to be a natural at these kind of things."

The screen lights up again, and the four of us dive back into the game, the sound of laughter and friendly trash talk filling the room.

For a little while, it's easy to forget about the weight we all carry. Easy to just exist in this moment, surrounded by people who get it. Who get me.

And for now, that's enough.

The door slides open again, revealing Keegan and Kylen hauling Hail between them like he's some kind of overgrown rag doll. His head lolls forward, and a faint slur escapes his lips-something about being invincible. Keegan, as usual, looks more annoyed than concerned, though a flicker of worry crosses his face as he glances at Claire.

"Hey, Claire?" Keegan's voice carries over the room as he and Kylen shuffle Hail toward the nearest couch. "We might have a problem. I think this idiot's got alcohol poisoning."

Claire's face tightens, and she sets down her game controller, rising from her seat. "Alcohol poisoning? Keegan, how much did he drink?"

"Enough to make a Russian vodka factory jealous," Keegan mutters, easing Hail down onto the couch. Kylen lets out a grunt, rubbing his shoulder as if hauling Hail's weight had been more of a workout than he'd signed up for.

The room dissolves into a flurry of activity. Claire crouches by Hail, her calm demeanor masking a growing unease as she checks his pulse and breathing. Keegan stands nearby, arms crossed, throwing in the occasional sarcastic comment, while Kylen heads toward the kitchen to grab water and...maybe coffee? It's hard to tell.

I'm halfway to joining the fray when I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn to find Dylan standing there, his expression soft but insistent.

"Hey," he says, his voice low to avoid intruding on the chaos. "Wanna step out for a bit? This is, uh...a lot."

I hesitate for a moment, glancing back at Claire, who's now giving Keegan a rundown on the signs of alcohol poisoning and what to watch for. Hail's incoherent muttering fills the space, punctuated by Kylen's return with a water bottle that promptly spills halfway to its destination. It's chaotic, noisy...and a little overwhelming.

"Yeah," I say, exhaling slowly. "That sounds like a good idea."

Dylan smiles, a small but genuine curve of his lips, and motions toward the hallway. I follow him, the sounds of the room fading as we step out into the quieter space beyond. The hallway feels cooler, calmer, and I'm grateful for the reprieve. Dylan glances back at me as we walk, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"You okay?" he asks after a moment. His tone is casual, but there's a layer of concern beneath it, subtle but unmistakable.

"I'm fine," I say, offering a small smile. "Just...a lot going on lately, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," he says, nodding. We reach a small alcove with a window overlooking the city. The skyline stretches out before us, glittering with lights that seem to dance against the night sky. Dylan leans against the wall, his gaze distant for a moment before he looks back at me.

"What's on your mind?" he asks, his voice soft.

For a moment, I'm not sure how to answer. There's so much. The weight of everything we're facing, the uncertainty of what's ahead, the lingering worry about Red and his relentless drive to...what? Save the world? Find a way back to Naurus? Get himself killed trying? And then there's this-this quiet moment with Dylan, where it feels like the rest of the world fades away, just for a little while.

"Honestly?" I say finally, leaning against the window ledge. "I don't even know where to start."

He chuckles softly, a warm, easy sound that makes the tension in my chest ease just a little. "Fair enough. Start with whatever's easiest, I guess."

I glance at him, the way his eyes catch the faint glow of the city lights, and something about his calm presence makes it a little easier to open up. "I guess I'm just...worried about everyone," I admit. "Red, especially. He's carrying so much, and I don't know how to help him."

Dylan nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Red's...yeah, he's got a lot on his plate. But he's also tougher than he looks. I mean, not that he doesn't need us, but...you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," I say, smiling faintly. "It's just hard to see him struggling and not be able to fix it. All he does is sit up on the roof all hours of the day and write in his journal."

"You're doing more than you think," Dylan says, his gaze steady. "Just being here, being part of the team...it matters. To him, to all of us."

There's a sincerity in his voice that warms something in me, a quiet reassurance that maybe, just maybe, I'm not as powerless as I feel sometimes. I look back out at the city, the lights blurring slightly as my thoughts swirl.

"Thanks," I say after a moment, meeting his gaze. "For saying that. For...everything."

He smiles again, a little crooked but no less genuine. "Anytime."

We linger there for a while, the quiet between us comfortable and companionable. Outside, the city hums with life, a constant reminder of the world we're trying to protect. And for now, in this moment, it feels just a little more manageable.

---Claire---

I watch Keegan and Kylen wrestle Hail into his room. He's dead weight, stumbling and slurring, and it takes both of them to keep him upright. As much as I want to roll my eyes, I can't help but feel bad for him. Hail's been spiraling lately, and nights like this are becoming too frequent.

They carefully ease Hail down onto the bed. Kylen and Keegan mumble something about how heavy Hail was before slipping out of the room.

Hail's face is pale, his usually sharp features slack. I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my phone to check his pulse and respiration. They're both steady-thankfully-but his breathing is slower than it should be.

"Stay awake for me, Hail," I say softly, tapping his cheek. His eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused, but at least he responds.

"You always...boss me around," he mutters, his words thick.

"And you always make terrible decisions," I shoot back, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips. I hand him a glass of water Kylen left on the nightstand. "Drink this. Slowly."

He takes a shaky sip, then slumps back against the pillows.

For a moment, we sit in silence. His breathing evens out, and I relax a little, though my heart still aches for him.

"I screwed it all up," he says suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" I ask, leaning closer.

"Us." His gaze flickers to mine, and I can see the pain swimming in his eyes. "I ruined everything."

"Hail..." I sigh, unsure where to start.

"No, let me say it," he insists, sitting up slightly, though it clearly takes effort. "I was selfish. I pushed you away when you tried to help me. It wasn't your fault. It was me. I didn't know how to..." He trails off, searching for words. "I didn't know how to let you in."

His vulnerability catches me off guard. For all his bravado, Hail rarely lets anyone see this side of him.

"It wasn't all your fault," I say gently. "We were both trying to figure things out, and we both made mistakes. But I don't regret caring about you. Not for a second."

His eyes glisten, and he looks away, swallowing hard. "I wish I could've been better for you."

"You still can be," I tell him. "Not for me-but for yourself. You're not as lost as you think, Hail."

He doesn't respond, but his shoulders relax slightly, and I take that as a small victory.

"Get some rest," I say, brushing his hair back without thinking. "I'll stay until you're asleep."

He nods, his eyes already closing. Within minutes, his breathing steadies, and he's out.

I sit there a while longer, just watching him. Despite everything, I believe in him. I just hope he starts to believe in himself.

---Keegan---

The door swings open to the lounge, and Kylen and I step through, leaving Claire to deal with Hail. I glance back over my shoulder, half-expecting to hear him throw up or start mumbling nonsense again, but it's mostly quiet except for Claire's steady instructions. Good luck with that, Claire.

Kat is sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, her feet propped up on the coffee table. She glances at us as we walk in, and a grin spreads across her face. "So, how's our favorite frost prince? Still standing, or did he finally pass out?"

"Oh, he's fine," I say, smirking. "If you call being carried like a sack of potatoes 'fine.'" I plop down on the armrest of the couch, careful not to knock over the snack bowl next to her.

"I'm amazed he made it this far," Kat replies, her tone light but teasing. "You should've seen him at the bar last time. He tried to convince some poor guy he was an ice sculptor."

Kylen snorts as he heads for the kitchenette. "He's consistent, at least." He pulls open the fridge and grabs a water bottle before leaning against the counter. "Claire's handling him now. Pretty sure she's seen worse."

"She's a saint," Kat says with a laugh. "Not sure I'd have the patience." She pauses her game and looks over at Kylen. "So, what's the plan for tonight? More portal tinkering?"

Kylen nods, twisting the cap off his water. "Yeah. I've got a few ideas to try. If we're lucky, we might actually make some progress this time."

"You've been saying that for weeks," I tease, leaning back against the couch. "What's different this time?"

He shoots me a look, one brow raised. "This time, I have a working theory. And maybe some help, if you're not too busy cracking jokes."

"Help?" I say, feigning shock. "From me? I'm just here for moral support."

Kat chuckles. "Keegan, moral support? That's rich."

"Hey," I say, holding up my hands. "I'm great at moral support. I even brought snacks." I gesture toward the half-empty bowl of chips on the table.

"Mmm, no. I believe Alyse brought those actually." Kat smirks.

Kylen shakes his head but doesn't bother hiding his grin. "Anyway, I'll be in the lab if anyone needs me. Gotta keep chipping away at this thing."

Kat's grin fades slightly, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You really think it's going to work? That you'll get a way back to Amerei?"

Kylen hesitates, the weight of the question settling over him. He looks at her, then at me, his expression serious. "It has to. There's no other option."

I watch him for a moment, and despite the confident tone, I can see the exhaustion in his eyes. He's been at this nonstop, trying to piece together something that might not even be possible. But I don't say that. Instead, I push myself off the armrest and stretch.

"Well, if you're heading to the lab, I guess I'll come bug you in a bit. Can't let you have all the fun."

Kylen gives me a small smile and heads out, water bottle in hand. Kat picks up her controller again, but her expression stays thoughtful as she unpauses the game.

"You think he'll actually pull it off?" she asks quietly.

I sit back down, this time on the couch. "If anyone can, it's Kylen. He's stubborn like that."

She nods, but the doubt lingers in her eyes. I don't blame her. A working portal back to Amerei? It's a big ask. But if there's even a chance... well, I guess we'll see.

"How about a night on the town, now that everyone's gone?" I suggest.

Kat turns her attention back to me and smirks. "Is that even a question?"