Kyle had meant his marijuana offer for Xelan with the deepest sincerity. The dude could use a downer or some shit, standing down there, pulling his hair out. Sure, the end of the universe was cause for concern, but the Shadow would figure it out. They always did.

Speaking of, Tameka finished assigning teams. “Okay, so we’ll send hourly reports on our progress and meet again in a few nights to reassess the situation. Does that sound good?”

Some people, like Kyle, answered with a, “Yeah.” “Sure.” Or “Affirmative.” While others put a fist to their chest in salute.

Then there was Iuo. “Please don’t forget you’re all invited to the premiere of Rayne’s Verse. Only two nights away. Your imperial majesties, will you be there?”

Kyle expected Xelan to look wrecked by the mere suggestion. Instead, the Co-Emperor nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it for the worlds.”

“Me, too.” Tameka’s support further surprised Kyle, who only shook his head, incredulous.

The rest also agreed to go, forcing his hand. Andrew even nudged him. Peer pressure. Kyle blurted, “I’ll be there, too, Iuo.”

But he was only attending to judge it very harshly. If a single detail was out of place or there was something remotely uncharacteristic about Rayne, Kyle would leave a scathing review. Somewhere.

Fuck, he wasn’t grumpy about the movie. Being honest with himself, Kyle turned to face Silence and at least twenty-four hours without her extremely exciting and erotic company. Thus PDA.

Silence reached to play with Kyle’s tangled hair, her steel-gray eyes were alight with sympathy and amusement.

Yeah, yeah, it was only one day, but shit, when would the Shadow finally earn a three-day weekend without a mess to clean up?

Kyle put their departure to good use. He cupped the back of Silence’s neck, dipped her down, and kissed her with all the drama of a cheesy romance cover. Bruising and sweet, matching both their punishment apart and the anticipation of their expected reunion.

Not to mention, Kyle felt all the Shadow’s eyes on them. Xelan, included. It was enough to restore Kyle’s good mood, so when he parted their kiss, appreciating Silence’s husky laughter, he beamed in return. Bouncing his eyebrows, he asked, “Not bad, eh?”

She swatted him playfully.

It hurt.

Kyle hid his wince by returning them both upright, ignoring all the facets of reactions surrounding them—Laughter, secondhand happiness, and only one thinly veiled grimace. That’s right, Xelan.

Smith ruined the moment by holding up his hand and asking, “My turn?”

Chuckles and giggles sounded from all around for the man who hid in smiles.

“We’ll do pizza and root beer when my shift ends. I promise.” Silence really knew the way to Kyle’s heart.

He kissed her hand and let Andrew pull him away, while he assured, “I’ll be one comms call away.”

“Seriously, dude. It’s only twenty-four hours.”

Kyle could tell Andrew was pulling his leg, but still… “Fuck you, Holt. You and the cool kids have fun staying up on ‘universe collapse watch.’” He flipped his unrelated brother off, saying, “I bet if I went and touched Cascading Light, they’d let me stay with Silence like you get to stay with Lucas.”

Lucas appeared out of nowhere and leaned on Andrew’s shoulder to say, “Envy doesn’t become you, Kyle.”

Of all the people to jump in, Lucas was not the best choice. Many in the Shadow suspected his involvement in the vanishing Matrix, among other things. Kyle’s grumpiness skyrocketed to, ‘stepping on wet carpet while wearing a sock.’

“You can fuck right off, man—”

Someone strong lifted Kyle bodily, turned, and set him down. It was strangely calming.

Behind him, Tumu said, “Let’s get to work. The sooner we get a shift in, the sooner you can return to Silence without damaging any friendships.”

Kyle grumbled a begrudging, “Thanks, Tumu.”

With a wall of Tritan separating them, Lucas raised his voice to say, “I forgive you, Story Taker.”

Stupid name. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Cranky…” Further grumbles of apologies and lame excuses were offered.

Lamassau, who was beside Tumu, nudged Kyle forward. “Let’s go congratulate Tameka and Xelan on another squirt.”

‘Squirt’ was such an unexpected word to come from a Tritan that Kyle barked out a laugh. Proof positive he could do this and be in a good mood about it. They made their way to the bottom tier, and, at Tameka’s glowing smile, Kyle immediately felt better.

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“Congratulations, Fury.” He meant it.

Tameka—powerful and capable—grappled Kyle into their first full-fledged hug in four years. It felt like hugging one of his sisters. It felt like home. Against his shoulder, Tameka said, “Thank you.”

When they let go, she went to hug Lamassau, who said without hesitation, “Lammy is a good name for a girl.”

But Kyle’s attention drifted to the half-Icarus in front of him. Xelan stared down at him, bemused, as he said, “No way are my kids calling you great granddad.”

“I prefer Pappy, anyway.”

Tumu broke into a chuckle he hid from Xelan’s immediate glare.

With a thumb aimed at Kyle, Lamassau warned, “Careful. This one’s looking for a fight.”

Bewildered, Xelan shook his head.

“Daddy, I’m tired. Can I go back to bed? Auntie Aria and Uncle Torch will watch me.” Pax bumbled between them, rubbing his eyes. “Please?”

Lamassau picked him up, saying, “If T.a.o. will take us, ‘I got you,’ kid.”

Pax and Xelan chuckled at the same time, and it was honestly so cute Kyle wondered about having kids with Silence. Not anytime soon, but what features would he or she have? What mannerism would they adopt? Hopefully, they got their mother’s looks—

T.a.o. appeared like magic—Did she really eavesdrop on them in the Seam or something? She said, “Cub, sleep time.”

From his perch in Lamassau’s arms, Pax reached down to hug the ancient Seamswalker, meaning Lam had to squat for him to reach. Uncle of the year.

“Good night, baby. Mommy and daddy will be home to kiss you in a bit,” Tameka promised.

T.a.o. took the waving group to the stronghold.

“Welp, I guess we better get this memory thing over with.” Rather than waiting for T.a.o. to return, Kyle led their team—him, Xelan, Tameka, and Tumu—to the lab only a short walk from the bridge. “Through here. Yeah, so he’s alive and pervy as ever. The bastard dressed Ross up as a sexy secretary and forced her to witness his entire sexual history. You’ve got an awesome friend there, Wingmaster.”

Xelan ignored the bait and stared at the nacre, biting his thumbnail, pondering, “How do we get him out?”

Tameka tugged on Xelan’s hand, and her eyes said it all. ‘Why should we?’

Tumu looked down at Kyle, who shrugged. He’d expected this exact outcome once he’d discovered Razor was alive inside the nacre—

“I’m here.” T.a.o. Seamswalked into the lab, Atramentous eyes settling on the nacre. She pointed. “My friend?”

Xelan placed his hand on her shoulder, asking, “Would you like to see him?”

The faeish woman smiled, and it sparkled in her amethyst eyes. “Please.”

This boggled Kyle’s mind. Seriously, what was with Razor and the Seamswalkers? Whatever. He clapped his hands together and said, “Okay, everyone who’s going in, gather around me.”

That’d be everyone, including Tumu and Tameka.

Within the blink of an eye, they stood inside the monochromatic aisles of Razor’s memory labyrinth. And once again, they were dressed for the occasion.

Xelan was wearing a suit from Korac’s closet. Three-piece, yada yada. With a monocle.

Ribbons of shimmering lilac decorated T.a.o.’s wavy hair, matching her glittery slip dress. Now, she looked like a proper fairy, and it suited the radiant smile on her face.

Tameka…

Kyle tried not to laugh.

Tameka was wearing a black leotard over red tights under black thigh-high boots. Razor capped the superhero ensemble off with a black and red cape.

It took every ounce of Kyle’s self-control to hold the snicker in, but he lost it when he looked at Tumu.

A seven-foot blue clown. Razor completed the getup with a red nose glued to Tumu’s feature-less face.

Xelan and Kyle laughed at the same time. Tameka rolled her eyes and folded her arms. T.a.o. crossed the space to Tumu and curtsied.

With a sigh, Tumu returned her gesture with a bow, losing the nose in the process.

“Razor’s alive, all right,” Tameka said it with a sigh of disdain.

Kyle frowned when a realization struck him. “There are no clipboards.”

Xelan breathed on his monocle, wiped it on his lapel, and went, “Hmm?”

T.a.o. twirled in her pretty dress between Kyle’s view of Xelan as he explained, “When Ross and I came here a few days ago, Razor gave us clipboards and wrote to me on it.”

Tameka stared at Kyle—No. Behind him, and Tumu pointed.

Kyle turned and saw it. Back-lit white text was written on a white musical staff across one black wall like a chalkboard.

You kept your promise.

After making Kyle wear this getup again, he regretted it. Still, he said, “Yeah. Yeah. Don’t get mushy on me.”

With a joyful noise, T.a.o. ran up to the wall and hugged it. It was so cute, yet so annoying because Razor had done nothing to deserve it.

New text replaced the old message.

I miss you, too.

Xelan went to T.a.o.’s side and pulled her in for a hug.

With her hands on her hips—in a superhero pose, no less—Tameka blew the air out from her cheeks and asked, “What the hell do we do with this?”

Tumu—in his baggy clown clothes and sad makeup—shook his head with a tsk. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, Wingmaster.”

“Yeah. No shit.” After witnessing Razor’s childhood, Kyle wouldn’t know how to make this call. And luckily, he didn’t have to. He nodded at Xelan, saying, “Good luck, man. Either way, you’re hurting someone.”

He kinda felt like an ass when Xelan frowned from the weight of this decision, so much anguish filling his eyes. The ethical ramifications of offering to resurrect Razor sucked.

Xelan looked at Tameka, who looked ready to support the father of her children, regardless of his decision. It was nice, something Kyle hoped he and Silence had in their favor, too.

T.a.o. tiptoed to kiss Xelan’s cheek, as if she already knew the answer. Then she twirled back with the others, so only Xelan was left facing the wall.

“Razor, would you agree to resurrection under terms of rehabilitation? You’d serve Iona Pax and the Shadow to better a civilization you helped repress and oppress for millions of years. Thusly, would be the duration of your reform.”

Black and white images, with pops of color, replaced the musical staff. Memories of a pitch-black Lyrik with hard yellow eyes and fiery red feathers. Lethal and devoted, Triss ripped out some Caprent’s throat. Punched a nacre out of a Pil dwarf. And strangled a female Lamia. The next image was Triss lying on a white bed, long lashes closed over soft cheeks, breathing evenly. And then came a montage of Triss… uhm… performing various acts of passion with and for Razor. Enthusiastically. Did any of those positions even have names?

Razor and Triss were meant for each other. Millions of years obsessing over one another across galactic wars and the deaths of Primaries—They were always together. Honestly, if they were still alive, Kyle would’ve pegged them for the Eternal Bind.

Black letters formed on the white flashbacks.

Not without her.

The wall went black.

Xelan hung his head. T.a.o. sniffled. Tameka and Tumu looked about how Kyle felt: baffled and still somehow sad.

While they considered the longevity of their own relationships, the eternal debate of right and wrong, and how to recover a nacre from a dead woman, words formed on the musical staff.

Tameka and Xelan, don’t name your daughter ‘Rayne.’ If you claimed it, how could Ross and Jack use it for their first born?

“Son of a bitch.” The second they left this memory bank, Kyle was marching to the King Elect council and murdering Jack on the spot—

Just kidding.