The storm fades away. The forgotten sun shines bright as the sky fills with color. Sitting at the table in the center of their garden is Lahar. She wears a light-colored sundress and sips from a cup of tea. She is careful of her arm, which is still in a sling. Her left arm is still bandaged, but she feels no pain. In fact, she is sure it is finished healing. Sitting in a glass wheelchair across the table from her is Arena, wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

"It's been a while since the sun has shone," Lahar says as drops of water glimmer on the flowers.

"Kind of sad I missed it," Arena says. "I like it when it rains. Everything seems...calmer."

"Well, it wasn't," Lahar says, placing the cup down.

Arena reaches for his coffee. His face looks uncomfortable as he leans forward. Lahar reaches forward and hands him the cup so he doesn't further strain himself.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"No, really. Thank you for everything," Arena says. She looks up at his eyes and sees the sincerity. "What you did and what all of you went through. All of what the wisps and you told me." Arena's eyes fixate on her arm in the sling. "I don't think you understand how grateful I am."

Lahar stares at Arena's stomach. "I think I have an idea." She looks up to meet his gaze. "I know you would have done it for me, too...probably faster and with fewer injuries," she says playfully to him.

"Don't oversell me. What you did and how you all handled it was amazing."

Lahar smiles as she gets up. "How long are you stuck in the chair?" she asks.

"Doc did an amazing job patching me up. Even then, two weeks," he says, with his hand rubbing the armrest. "Even after that, I won't walk normally for a while after."

"That's still a really fast recovery time. Plus, King and Crew did a great job making it for you."

"Yeah. You would think it would be uncomfortable, but it's actually cozy. How about you and that sling?"

"Doc said this is my last day, so that's fine," she says as she pushes the chair in.

"The burns should be good by now, though. Why are you still wearing the bandages?"

"I just want to make sure they are healed up."

Arena stares at the bandages. Doc is very skilled at what she does. No job is ever done with less than 100 percent. Then why does he feel Lahar's bandages look sloppy? He looks up at her with a smile. "That's good thinking. Let me know when they heal up."

They're silent for a moment until Lahar speaks. "What did he tell you? Void, I mean."

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"Nothing we haven't heard before. He's persistent. I don't think he will ever stop."

"Can I tell you something strange?" Lahar's eyes focus on his.

"Yeah," he says softly.

Lahar's hands fidget as she speaks. "He has done terrible things to us both. Part of me sees him as this evil monster who looms over us. Yet when I think of the night he came into my dream, I feel sort of sad for him."

Arena stays quiet, waiting for her to finish.

"I genuinely feel that he believes he is in the right here. Like a kid who doesn't understand what he has done wrong."

"I know what you mean," Arena says. "The world isn't as black and white as we like to make it. There are multiple sides to every story, different views. We shouldn't judge by what we see and not consider what he has gone through. Nonetheless, this doesn't mean we can excuse him for what he has done."

"Were you scared when you spoke to him?" Lahar asks.

Arena's hands run through his streak of hair. "You kidding? I was terrified." Lahar is caught off guard. She was expecting a bravado answer, something to make him look better in her eyes. Instead she got honesty.

"He had the upper hand. I was defenseless. Yet there was something. He didn't seem like a maniacal monster. He wasn't torturing me or anything. He just sat and talked. That's it. Mostly about how we should end this nonviolently and let him have what he wants."

"I think I'm more afraid of him now than I was before." Arena looks at her as she says that, and he sees her body tense up.

"Before, I just saw him as a maniac, but now he's worse. He's someone with a drive, a vision. He has a purpose for everything he does. He's just somebody doing what he believes is right."

"Yeah, well, so are we. In the end, we all just want to move forward. We just have to make sure we come up ahead," he says with a smile.

Lahar nods with a smile. She gets up. "Well, I'm headed to the beach. King and Crew supposedly have something for me. Knowing them, they just want me to play a game."

Arena waves at her as she walks to the door. As he waves, what she told him plays back in his mind. How two entered the cave and only she walked out with the Statue's mask. The weight presses on his chest and grows heavier each time he thinks about what she must have gone through, all for his sake.

Lahar walks out into the hallway. She shuts the door and looks around. No one is with her. She unwraps the bandages to see that her arm has healed but not completely. Splotches of much lighter skin scar her arm, from small patches on her fingers to much larger ones on her forearm. She stares at them, remembering the burn from her own failures. Arena can't see this; she is too embarrassed. When Doc unwrapped the bandages the first time in front of the wisps and Pie, she was speechless.

She places the bandage back on her arm and walks out the front door. She sees King, Crew, and Pie waiting on the beach with her surprise. They stand in front of a stone furnace. It has a large opening at the top. King claps his hands. Tables, chairs, and tools of stone rise from the sand. Crew pulls a metallic anvil from the sand and a small bowl connected to a long handle.

"What's with all this?" Lahar asks. King points to his hand, where a stone dagger appears. "So we are making one of those, and you want my help. I don't know how I can help," she says, showing her arm still in the sling. "Still, I'll do what I can. Is it a present for Arena waking up, then?"

Crew shakes his head no. He points to her while nodding his head.

"Oh, for me, then," Lahar says, flattered by the gesture. "You don't have to do this for me, though. I don't even know what I would do with one. Plus, where we would get the metal—"

Before she can finish her sentence, King pulls something from behind the furnace. He drags out Statue's mask.

Her eyes fixate on it, while King knocks on the mask. It makes a metallic clanking noise. Though the ivory armor covered the wooden appearance, the mask is indeed metal. Lahar stares at the cracks and nicks on the mask. Her bloodied handprint is still on the mask from where she first touched it in the cave.

Lahar looks at the three of them. Without sharing another word, she understands their gesture. She simply nods at them and says, "What's the first thing we do?"