Zed’s body moved through the hologram blue until he stood in front of the part of the map that indicated their present location. He counted eighteen blue dots.

Around him everyone continued in their argument. The party was divided, three parts carrying the banner of three different opinions. Some of them wanted to continue forward, some wanted to return home, and some just didn’t have an opinion.

Big Man Desolate sat jovially in the third party, whistling softly, a quiet theme tune to the growing arguments.

As for Zed, he just wanted to get to California. For that he needed a detailed map and a means of transportation. However, he couldn’t ignore the fact that the monsters needed to be put down. If they weren’t, then there was the possibility of them getting to town. And while Ivan and Heimdall were there, there was no certainty that there wouldn’t be civilian casualties.

The thought of Cindy dying to the hands of a monster they could’ve killed here was the only thing that spurred him on.

He took a step back, increasing the volume of the map he could see so that he wasn’t only focused on what Ven was showing them. When he had most of the map in his sight, something caught his eye and he paused.

“What’s this path over here?” he asked.

“What part?” Ven asked, stepping forward. He studied the map, following Zed’s gaze before pointing at a section of it. “This path?”

“Yes.” Zed stepped around it, studying it from a different angle. “The topography looks all wrong.”

A stray strand of red hair fell over one eye and he ignored it.

“Fallen trees,” Ven answered after a studious moment.

“Fallen trees,” Zed repeated. “Any idea who fell them?”

“Most likely the big three.”

Zed shook his head. “Not possibilities. I need close enough certainties. You’ve seen the trees and they don’t just cave under pressure.” He turned to Jason. “Have you tried breaking off a branch?”

Jason shook his head, an odd expression on his face.

Zed knew the expression was directed at him but couldn’t bring himself to care for it right now, his mind preoccupied with the map he stood within. They needed to kill the monsters that littered the map in red dots but their priority was the three bright dots. They needed to get to those ones in one piece. Once they found a way to be done with them, then they could clear out the rest on their way out.

“They don’t break,” Eitri said. “They’ll bend at best, but they don’t break.”

“See,” Zed told Ven. “Now, besides those three, what are the possibilities that those trees didn’t simply fall but were felled and what are the chances those three aren’t the culprits? Because if any of these other monsters are capable of felling these trees, I don’t think any of us will want to fight them.”

“One moment,” Ven said, then fell silent.

It was a moment of silence filled with waiting and Zed suspected the suit of armor wasn’t only designed to keep the mage inside protected. After all, the moment stretched far too long to be referred to as just one moment.

“You’re different,” someone said suddenly as they waited.

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Zed turned to find Chris standing close to him, staring at him with a frown.

“I agree,” Big Man Desolate said, chipping into a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be a part of. “Very different.”

Chris’ disturbed expression made Zed smile and he wondered if he’d ever been able to put any other expression but annoyance on her face.

Nope, he concluded.

So he gave her a mischievous smile.

“Do you know the best part about clowns that nobody ever pays attention to?” he asked her.

“No,” she answered. “And wipe that smirk off your face. It’s horrendous.”

“No it’s not,” Zed chuckled. “It’s really handsome and you like it.”

Chris hand blurred across the distance and cuffed him easily over the back of his head. It wasn’t an attack, merely a simple reprimand. She was reminding him that she was in no mood for jokes.

“Ow! What was that for?” Zed complained, rubbing the back of his head. “You can be mean, but violence is not the…” his words trailed off as he remembered what he’d been doing for the past few days. “Alright, violence is the answer, but not all the time.”

“Shut up and finish what you were saying about clowns,” Chris said.

Zed sighed. “Clowns, like writers,” he continued, “Are amazing liars.”

“Then which one is the lie?” Ash asked from Zed’s other side, walking closer to the edge of the map where he stood.

He turned to her with a shrug. “We have Olympians present with a suit of armor I’d bet my bottom dollar can hear sounds from a distance looking for a way to take the mana surge. What do you think?”

Oliver joined the conversation with an expression that mirrored the one Jason had given Zed when he’d asked him a question a moment ago.

“I think,” Oliver said, “that your story about memory loss wasn’t a lie. And I think the Zed we know wasn’t a lie.”

Even with some of his memories back, Zed’s appreciation for Oliver’s friendship hadn’t changed, but he knew their friendship had changed. Or at least how he viewed it.

Not too long ago Oliver was the only one he could consider a close friend. Oliver had been nice to him, never taking his clowning against him. Oliver had enjoyed his company where others had merely put up with it.

Oliver had been a friend.

Zed wasn’t sure how he felt now that Oliver felt like just another friend. His attachment to Oliver was no longer as strong, even if it was still there. Zed’s true friends were out there somewhere, and if they had somehow managed to make it back to the institute during the second awakening, then it was possible he could run into them again.

All he had to do was get there in one piece.

“Zed,” Oliver said quietly. “You’ve gotten your memories back, haven’t you?”

Zed smiled softly. “I have.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be good news?” Ash asked. “You got your memories back. You know who you are.”

Zed nodded softly.

“It’s not good news,” Jason said, finally speaking.

“Why not?” Ash asked.

“Because he has that look on his face,” Chris explained.

“What look?”

“The look someone gets when they realize they’ve forgotten something important and have been wasting their time all along,” Chris explained. “My si—a friend of mine used to have that look whenever she forgot to turn the stove off or left her sister behind when she was supposed to go with her.”

Oliver looked at Zed through narrowed lids, studied him. Whatever he was looking for, Zed knew when he’d found it because his expression changed.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak but Jason beat him to it.

“He’s leaving, isn’t he?”

Zed tried for a smile but it came out awkward.

“I can understand that,” Ash said. “He has a daughter out there somewhere and I’m sure he’d like nothing more than to go find her. No matter the cost.”

“Yea,” Oliver scoffed. “I don’t think he’ll be willing to risk his friends’ safety for it, though.”

There was something accusatory in the way Oliver said his words that had everyone turning to Ash.

Well not a daughter, Zed thought. Just friends… and a mother. Family, too.

A part of him wondered why his mother’s smile was the only thing that made him so determined. Why did he remember a part of her first? Why hadn’t it been his father’s strength or something about his brothers or sister? Why was one of the first things he remembered his mother?

And The Berserker.

“I’ve got your answer, kid,” Ven said suddenly.

Zed catalogued the conversation, slipping it away for another time as he returned his attention to Ven.

“So what’s the answer?” he asked.

“From the projections and path predictions I was able to get from the drones…”

“Again with the big words,” Lady Long Legs sighed. “Just hit the nail on the head and let’s get this dying over with.”

Ven’s armored head looked down in resignation and Zed could easily picture the man sighing in exasperation.

“Those three were the cause of it,” Ven said simply.

Zed nodded and returned his attention to the map.

“Then I guess we’ve just found our route to them.”