Dan dropped back into existence in Roosevelt harbor on the northeastern side of the island. It was less than ten miles away from the Summers' estate and directly connected to the highway that wrapped around the tiny island. He glanced around the harbor but quickly realized he'd beaten the Coldwater convoy here, as promised.

It was a small harbor, mostly for civilian use. There were a few families milling about the piers, but Dan noticed that they were almost ubiquitously staring at their phones. A few screaming children ran around their parents ankles, siblings arguing or baby's crying, but the adults' eyes were glued to the screens in their hands. Dan noted that as strange, but his attention turned to the southern horizon.

Huge plumes of dust rose above the tree line, drifting away from the island. It was like a sideways mushroom cloud, like a volcano had erupted horizontally. Clouds of dirt darkened the sky. Dan watched distant trees sway, then bend violently in his direction, leaves scattering to the wind. He watched the shockwave approach with numb awe, then wash over him with the noise of an artillery barrage.

Boom!

His ears rang and people screamed. Wind buffeted his body hard enough to stagger him and the ground quaked. The few boats in the harbor rocked violently back and forth on a suddenly churning ocean. A baby started to cry and several adults sprinted for cover. And then it was over. No follow up, no rain of debris, no apocalyptic aftershocks. Cannibal had been in front of the ocean, so Dan hadn't bothered holding back. The blast had been directed horizontally and up, angled about forty-five degrees towards the water. With any luck, he'd blasted the serial killer into high orbit. Failing that, Cannibal should be taking a very unpleasant dip in the Florida Straits.

Dan wondered, a little hysterically, if the vicious Natural had landed in Havana.

He blinked skyward, high above the Summers' property. The day had started clear, but Dan's pocket nuke had belched up a cloud of dust that was quickly drifting upwards. He was careful to avoid it, appearing near the entrance of the property and looking for—

The property was gone. Cratered. Obliterated. The air was thick with debris but from what he could see there was no more Summers' mansion, no more Summers' forest, and no more Summers' land. It was like he'd chipped off an entire section of the island, down to the very bedrock. There was a clear starting point of the devastation, and everything after that point abruptly terminated into chunks of dirt and encroaching water. The ocean had reclaimed the earth. The waters were muddy and roiling, There was no sight of Cannibal. There was no sight of anything.

He had... probably killed Abby's swans. That wasn't what he'd—

No. Don't dwell on it.

He hoped it had been quick.

Dan blinked back to the harbor before he could fall to his death. He landed, fists clenched, any sense of accomplishment thoroughly soured. He carefully examined the closest buildings for broken glass and was glad to not find any. He doubted many windows were spared closer to the blast, but it had been angled away from civilization. That ought to be enough. He could only hope at this point. The Summers' property was enormous and isolated. It had taken the brunt of the damage, and Anastasia could afford it.

The interstate highway was all but empty, so Dan was easily able to spot the Coldwater convoy as it came roaring into view. The armored vehicles were masterfully disguised as unassuming sedans and SUVs, but any subtlety they might have had was spoiled by the large Coldwater logos emblazoned on the side paneling. Seven cars long, the convoy squealed to a stop outside the harbor and Abby's tall form leapt out of the center vehicle.

Dan blinked beside her and she tackled him in a hug the instant he appeared.

"What happened!?" she demanded. "We all felt the explosion!"

Her family started to unload, somehow still bickering with each other. Dan winced at Abby's earnest concern.

"I blew up your house," he admitted.

"You what!?" Jason Summers exclaimed from somewhere in the back.

Abby ignored him. "We can buy a new one. What happened to Cannibal?"

"No idea." Dan shrugged helplessly. He pointed south. "I directed the explosion that way. Might have killed him. Definitely pissed him off. I'm guessing he was thrown very far away. I suggest we get the hell out of here before he comes back."

The Summers family had a yacht. This did not surprise Dan at all. It was large enough for the entire extended family, their guards, and all the service staff. He didn't know much about yachts, but it was probably a good one. He assumed that there were Gatling guns hidden somewhere on the thing. The Coldwater mercenaries loaded their charges up onto the waiting yacht, and one of the soldiers took over as the pilot.

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Dan watched the procession with impatience, Abby latched onto him like a leech, while his veil swept the water. Some part of him was still buzzing with paranoia, half-expecting Cannibal to erupt from the ocean like a pissed off mermaid. The rest of him was worried about the catastrophic property damage he'd inflicted, and the consequences that would follow. He hadn't actually looked at the results on the rest of the island, nor was he sure he wanted too. It got him thinking, though.

Dan turned to the Coldwater commander. "How long until Anastasia arrives?"

The commander pursed his lips. "Soon, I hope."

"Should we... wait for her?"

A considering pause, then, "I think not. At this point I believe my charges will be safer on the open sea." He gave Dan a long look. "Assuming the mansion is, indeed, destroyed."

Dan winced as he glanced at the visible cloud of dust rising over the horizon. The civilians in the harbor had mostly stopped panicking after the island didn't sink, and had returned to their phones. There should have been more follow-up, but Dan suspected Anastasia's property was off limits even to rabid reporters. Much like Vegas, whatever happened there, stayed there. It seemed insane to Dan, but he supposed these people had other priorities.

It gave him hope, though, that the shockwave hadn't ruined too many people's days.

"Echo showed himself in Austin, dressed up like Champion" Abby stated somberly, noticing Dan's gaze lingering on the nearby civilians. "We heard the news reports on the radio on the drive over."

"I should have expected that," Dan murmured, before shaking his head. "Did they get him?"

Silence was his answer. He turned to see Abby's deep scowl.

"It hasn't gone well," she summarized. "He made his stand in the University of Texas campus. There were several thousand students present when the NG rolled in. There were a lot of casualties and the fight is still ongoing. Apparently the People are livestreaming the whole thing and they aren't losing."

"And Anastasia is no longer nearby to back them up," Dan noted. The news was as horrifying as it was unsurprising. It was a distant sort of horror, the kind that was expected, deep down. After a week of watching the city riot, this seemed almost inevitable. Just bringing the People out into the light would have never been enough.

Abby looked frustrated and close to tears. "There never should have been a fight to begin with! Echo was in the middle of a college campus! Of course he's going to use the students as meat shields!"

"Whoever's in charge probably thought it was worth the collateral damage to bring down the People," Dan said with disgust.

"Mama Ana was in charge." Abby looked physically ill at the admission. "Not officially, but she had the power to stop this."

"She didn't want to stop it," Dan pointed out. "She wanted this to be over."

"They could have just posted a sniper somewhere and had him shot," Abby argued. "It's not standard procedure, but all reports claim that Echo was just sitting on a bench. It would have been easy, and all of this could've been avoided!"

"There was no cause," the Coldwater commander interrupted. They both looked at the soldier, surprised. His eyes flicked between them before he stoically continued, "Champion was arrested for being a vigilante over fifty years ago. One could argue he's already served his time, unjustly at that. The only other thing he could conceivably be accused of is rescuing Cannibal from that motel fight, but Champion can't teleport. He was present, but that isn't deserving of immediate execution. It would look like murder, justified or not. You'd have a riot anyway, because everyone watching would think that the government had just assassinated Champion without a trial." He paused a beat, then added, "Again."

"He's not Champion!" Abby hissed, her teeth bared. "He's a psycho that just used a bunch of teenagers as meat shields!"

And the NG butchered those shields, and Anastasia ordered them to do it, Dan thought. Or at the very least took no action to prevent it. He didn't voice his concerns, though. He knew Abby was not in a rational state of mind. She'd held it together admirably, but he could tell that the encounter with Cannibal had shaken her badly. She'd been glued to his side since they'd reunited, and her eyes were constantly roaming the road behind them, like she expected the villain to reappear at any moment.

It would do no good to throw her grandmother's amorality in Abby's face like it was somehow her fault. Anastasia had clearly lost some of her shine in Abby's eyes, but wrestling with that would take time. It wasn't easy to realize the person that raised you was a monster. It was a problem that Abby would eventually have to face, but not today.

Not today, Dan promised.

The yacht was loaded in good time, fear being a wonderful motivator. Dan and Abby were the last in line, with him playing over watch and her refusing to let go of his arm. Five minutes had passed, with no sign of Cannibal. Dan didn't know the monster's overland speed, but he felt comfortable assuming that they wouldn't be getting ambushed any time soon. As the yacht departed, Dan glanced at the sky, some part of thinking he might spot Anastasia cruising into the island's airspace at Mach 5. The thought alarmed him, and it didn't take him long to realize why.

"Did you tell Anastasia we're fleeing by sea?" he asked the commander.

The man shook his head. "Lady Summers must not be disturbed while piloting the rocket sledge. It can only achieve the remarkable speeds it is capable of through use of her power. I'm told it takes a great deal of concentration. Distractions are inadvisable. Given that we are safe and alive, I thought it better to wait until she lands."

"Until she lands," Dan repeated slowly. The commander nodded, so Dan said again, "Until she lands, and sees that her house is blown apart, and her family is missing."

The commander blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned. "Ah."

"Yeah," Dan said.

The mercenary watched the island shrink in the distance, his jaw working slowly up and down.

"I shall send a text," the man decided.

"Yeah," Dan agreed.