"Welcome to the final chapter of my Verse."

Snacks littered my study, surrounded by pajama-clad Shadow. They looked ready for my last chapter. Eager, even, as I suppose they would be after spending an impromptu week in my stronghold.

These were the faces of the people I trust, maybe marginally for some, but still...

Here we go.

"So, as you've guessed by now, my time in exile was one long nervous breakdown. Until the day it wasn't. Occasionally, I couldn't stop myself from leaving to feed from CoN compounds and tracking the Progeny lines. Did you know that, Lucas?" When I said his name, it held a weight to it which hadn't been there before. It wasn't my intention, but after our conversation, I think differently of him.

Lucas either didn't notice or was a better actor than I am. He stood with his usual smile and said, "We knew of every move you made. Including the day you wandered into the Baptist Hospital in 1987, which is where I presume you were heading."

Tameka perked up beside me. All the current Progeny came a bit more to attention.

I said, "The day Tameka was born, all the lights within a mile of the hospital went out. Backup generators kicked on to keep life-saving machines operating. Powerhouse. Fury."

"Mom?" Pax was looking at his mother for confirmation.

"That's right, sweetie. I was awesome from the start."

Chuckles and snickers filled the room.

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly as I continued, vulnerable to any discussion of my mental state. "It was a sign to me. Proof positive: this line of Progeny were different. But... I couldn't focus. I couldn't maintain my mind in all its fragmented pieces. Not to mention, I wasn't fit to be in public. But I figured Lucas knew I was there because a few years later, he knocked on my door."

Kyle pointed out. "Your stronghold doesn't have a door."

"Thanks for volunteering, Kyle. Please read volume three-thousand, two-hundred and eight. Page thirty-two."

With a grumble, Story Taker did as he was told.

Rumors.

Rumors of Nox investigating this generation of Progeny.

Rumors of a girl in flames, destined to end it all. Most of what I'd heard was talk of her biorhythms in perfect synchronization with the Probability Matrix.

Primary Rem and Abresson—

They said the same thing about me once during one of Umbra's festivals. I overheard them while I pretended to play at their feet.

I'd never heard 'beautiful' said in such a creepy way.

Five years have passed since Tameka was born—

Was that right?

Had it been that long already?

I'd meant to see them all brought into this world—To search for confirmation—

It didn't matter now.

The girl in Cascading Light. The girl I could see in the black fire. She would be... four now.

I hoped for her sake—for all their sakes—the rumors weren't true.

What was her name?

Did I ever learn it—

Laughter rang through the stronghold and lights flashed all around. Was I having an epileptic fit—

No.

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The alarms.

Someone was outside.

I checked the security monitors to find a face so familiar... Relief rushed through me and flooded my eyes with tears.

Lucas.

He'd flown here in a jet and covered it with a camouflage tarp. I opened the cylindrical lift and granted him entry through the Gait security measures.

Welcome to my prison.

Now that sounded too dramatic...

I scratched my head, my hair trailing behind me. Putting it up kept people from noticing me, but... It was a lot of work and when I didn't keep it clean, well... it was impossible.

"Your highness."

How bad did I smell this time? Were my teeth in good condition—

"Traitor Prince."

Maybe I could bathe before he made it down the lift—

"Xelan!" Lucas took my shoulders in his hands, stopping the circle I'd been spinning without realizing. "What has this isolation done to you?"

Wasn't it obvious?

Lucas set me down in a chair and worked to make me focus on his eyes. I couldn't because they were too warm, too concerned. It hurt to face them. To see the reflection of the monster I'd become in his eyes.

The kindness in Lucas' voice hurt my ears. "Let the Tribunal come for me. I am not leaving you like this. Xelan, can you speak?"

It had been five hundred eighty-one thousand, eighty days since I'd spoken to another soul.

I cried because I knew...

I was too far gone.

Without words, Lucas took me to my rooms and paid me his usual charity. Beyond friendship, there are no words for the kindness he paid me. All the while, he talked. The sound of another voice.

News and updates.

These Progeny were doing well, and CoN was on the rise. Lucas reported the same rumors I'd intercepted with comms devices about the Icarean Army massing to claim this girl as the salvation of their race. Our race.

"Rayne."

Lucas stopped cutting my freshly washed hair to peer at me in the mirror. "Yes. That's her name. Rayne Echo Callahan. She's Celindria's descendant. And Korac's agents are quite interested in her." He continued trimming, saying, "I thought to bring some suits which should fit you—At least you didn't starve yourself. Perhaps you could put one on, and we'll go see the Progeny. The Callahans just bought a bookstore in Little Rock. Quaint little shop. Seems like your influence on their line, in my opinion..."

Lucas told me all about the situation on both sides. It was so nice to hear from another person. A friend—

"I never should have left you in this exile. None of us felt right about it. Iuo asks after you often, and Seps went into hiding with F8—Xelan, we need you."

If you'd asked me what was happening in my head at this moment, I'd tell you there was no way for me to know. But... strategy formed on its own. Logistics and estimations. What would it take to station an installation in Little Rock? How fast could I staff it? But first—

"Let's go see the bookstore."

That's where you come in.

Little you peeks out from under the fort, smiling with a little, "Hee."

Preteen you asks, "Why 'Iona?'"

Oh. I suppose I've never explained before. Iona is the only Icarean word which defies translation. It means 'endlessness.' Not eternal or unstoppable, but something with no limit to its potential.

Both versions of you smile. "Iona Pax: Endless Peace."

Exactly.

I can't help it. When I talk about this moment, I grin—Beam even. "Most of you don't know this story, but I put on one of Lucas' suits and a fake pair of glasses for anonymity. And because they looked cool. It was night, as we still couldn't walk through the sun's rays, but the door to the bookstore was open.

Still, Kavanaugh Boulevard was a popular street with its neighborly hustle and bustle. I took notice when a crowd started gasping and pointing at the road. This little girl with dark pigtails and cute little overalls had run out into the street. Some impatient jerk was speeding through an intersection. I scooped Rayne up in the nick of time."

Sagan asked, "Did you say, 'I got you?'"

"Of course."

Tameka was smiling as she said, "Wow. Rayne's first 'I got you.' Why hadn't we heard of this?"

I spread my hands, explaining, "Well, she didn't remember. Not until later. But I took one look into those big blue eyes, and I knew...

"That same night, I bought an old airline and started recruiting to outfit the Ionas. Exile could fuck off."

That stirred the room. Cussing just wasn't my thing, and it felt weird in my mouth.

Even Korac acknowledged it with a solemn nod. "I'm an excellent influence."

You're quiet.

Both versions of you are smiling at me, but the preteen version looks deeper in thought until you say, "I never knew... I mean... This is unexpected, but I'm glad I brought you out of it."

That voice in my head was different with you. It didn't say to hide you or protect you. It said to help you. To build you up and see you soar.

"I saw it in your eyes. I remember how you looked at me. How you're looking at me now. Thank you for always saving my life. I love you, Superman."

I love you, too, Rayne Callahan.