The flight back felt longer than it should have. Josh sat in silence, watching the ocean pass beneath them while his team celebrated around him. They'd won—actually won—and sent the First Ones home with the Prime Shard. By any measure, it was a victory. So why did it feel like they'd just barely survived a car crash, adrenaline wearing off to reveal all the injuries underneath?
"You're doing it again," Stevens said, dropping into the seat beside him. "The brooding thing. Very Batman of you."
"I'm not brooding. I'm thinking."
"Same thing with you lately." Stevens offered him a protein bar that looked like it had been designed by someone who hated joy. "Eat. You haven't had real food in like eighteen hours."
Josh took the bar but didn't open it. "Azazel's probably dead. He stayed behind to fight Marcus so we could escape. And I just left him."
"He chose to stay. That's on him, not you." Stevens was quiet for a moment. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend to understand the complicated relationship you had with the ice tyrant. But he made his choice. He wanted redemption, wanted to be something other than a monster for once in his very long life. You gave him that chance."
"By letting him sacrifice himself."
"By letting him be a hero. There's a difference." Stevens finally got Josh to make eye contact. "You can't save everyone, Josh. You can't carry every death, every loss, every hard choice. That weight will crush you. I've seen it happen to cops who try. They burn out, break down, or worse."
"So what do I do? Just accept that good people die following my orders?"
"No. You honor them by keeping the rest of us alive. By making the next call, and the one after that, until we actually get to the end of this mess." Stevens stood up. "Now come on. Kyla's giving me looks that suggest she'll hurt me if I don't get you to eat something."
The protein bar tasted like cardboard and sadness, but Josh forced it down. Around him, the team was gradually coming down from their victory high, exhaustion setting in. Min-Ji had fallen asleep leaning against Emma. Chen Wei was quietly writing something—letters to family, probably. Viktor was staring out the window with an expression Josh couldn't read.
Yuki approached, her usual hostility replaced with something closer to respect. "You did well, Reeves. I doubted this plan, doubted you could pull off negotiation with beings that powerful. But you proved me wrong."
"I had help. A lot of help."
"Yes, but you were the one who held us together. The Vanguard, the Council, even Azazel—we all followed your lead because you made us believe cooperation was possible." Yuki sat down across from him. "The Council will remember this. Not all of us agree with Elder Marcus's extremism. Some of us understand that working together is better than tearing each other apart."
"Marcus won't see it that way. He'll come after everyone involved in this operation."
"Let him try. He's powerful, but he's not invincible. And now we have allies." Yuki actually smiled slightly. "Strange how war makes friends of enemies."
The transport landed at a military base in California as dawn broke over the horizon. The base commander met them personally, shaking hands and thanking them for saving the world. It felt surreal—Josh was still just a twenty-three-year-old cop from Tides who could barely handle paperwork. Now he had generals thanking him for preventing human extinction.
Admiral Russo appeared on screens throughout the base as they were escorted to the debriefing room. She looked better than the last time Josh had seen her—less like she was carrying the weight of imminent apocalypse.
"First Ones are confirmed departed," Russo announced. "All dimensional signatures have vanished. The rifts are sealed. Cities are beginning recovery operations. We're still tallying casualties, but preliminary numbers suggest we lost approximately forty-seven thousand people globally."
Forty-seven thousand. The number hit Josh like a physical blow. Forty-seven thousand people who'd died because the First Ones came looking for their lost tool. Because the Prime Shard had been hidden on Earth thousands of years ago.
"However," Russo continued, "thanks to the First Ones' parting gift, the physical damage is largely reversed. Buildings are restored, infrastructure intact. It's only the human cost we can't fix." She paused. "Officer Reeves, your team performed exceptionally. You have my gratitude and the gratitude of every world leader who's called in the last hour. Which is all of them."
"What about the Amazon?" Josh asked. "Azazel and Elder Marcus?"
"We sent reconnaissance. The area is devastated—for miles around the temple site, everything is frozen solid or reduced to ash. We found evidence of a massive battle, but no bodies. No sign of either Azazel or Marcus." Russo's expression darkened. "We have to assume they're both still active. Which means the conflict isn't over."
Of course it wasn't. Josh had known that, but hearing it confirmed still hurt.
The debriefing lasted three hours. Every detail of the negotiation, the transport, the exchange with the First Ones—all of it documented and analyzed. Josh answered questions until his voice went hoarse, Kyla filling in details he missed.
Finally, Russo dismissed them. "You have seventy-two hours mandatory leave. That's not a suggestion, it's an order. Go home. Sleep. Spend time with family. Be normal for a few days. Because when you come back, we're going to need you again. Elder Marcus represents a new threat level, and we'll need the coalition to face him."
The team dispersed, most returning to their home countries for the first time in weeks. Min-Ji was going back to Seoul to see her family. Chen Wei was flying to Shanghai. Even Viktor was heading to whatever the Council considered home base, though he promised to keep Josh informed of any Marcus sightings.
Josh and Kyla ended up in a hotel near the base, too tired to travel further. The room was generic military housing—clean, functional, completely personality-free. But it had beds, and that was enough.
Josh collapsed onto one of the beds without even taking off his shoes. His body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, every muscle aching, his mind fuzzy with exhaustion.
"Shower first," Kyla insisted, physically pulling him up. "You smell like jungle and dimensional energy. It's not pleasant."
The shower was the best thing Josh had experienced in days. Hot water washing away sweat and grime and the lingering sensation of dimensional rifts. He stood under the stream until it started running cold, then forced himself to get out and put on the clean clothes someone had provided.
When he emerged, Kyla was already asleep, curled up on the other bed still in her tactical gear. Josh grabbed a blanket and covered her, then sat by the window watching the sunrise.
His phone—which he hadn't checked in over twenty-four hours—had 847 notifications. Most were news alerts about the First Ones' departure. Some were messages from Vanguard members checking in. A few were from numbers he didn't recognize.
One message was from his mom in Arizona: "I saw you on the news leading those people against the monsters. I'm so proud of you and so scared and I love you so much. Please call when you can."
Josh called. It went to voicemail because it was still early in Arizona, but he left a message: "Hi Mom. I'm okay. I'm safe. The monsters are gone. I'll explain everything when I see you. Love you too."
Another message was from Kenji: "Heard about the Amazon fight. Is Azazel really dead? I know he was a monster, but he tried to change at the end. That should count for something."
Josh typed a response: "Don't know if he's dead or alive. But yeah, it counts. He bought us the time we needed. That's more than most people do."
Stevens knocked on the door around noon. Josh had dozed off in the chair by the window, and Kyla was just waking up, her hair a disaster.
"Lunch," Stevens announced, carrying bags of takeout. "Real food from a real restaurant. Well, real-ish. It's California, so everything has kale in it, but beggars can't be choosers."
They ate on the small balcony, watching military personnel go about their duties below. Normal work, normal problems. It felt like watching another world.
"So," Stevens said around a mouthful of sandwich. "What now? We saved Earth, defeated the First Ones, gave away the most powerful artifact in existence. Do we get medals? Parades? At least a decent vacation?"
"Russo gave us seventy-two hours," Kyla said. "Then it's back to dealing with Elder Marcus and whoever else decides they want to end the world this week."
"Can't the world take a break from almost ending? Just once?" Stevens looked at Josh. "What about you? What do you want to do with three days of freedom?"
Josh thought about it. Three days where he wasn't responsible for coordinating armies or making life-and-death decisions or carrying the weight of humanity's survival. Three days to just be Josh Reeves, normal person.
"I want to go home," he said. "To Tides. See the city where this all started. Walk normal streets, eat normal food, remember what I'm fighting for."
"Tides is a twelve-hour drive from here," Kyla pointed out.
"Then we better get started."
They rented a car—a beat-up sedan that had seen better days but ran well enough. Stevens claimed the backseat and immediately fell asleep. Kyla took first driving shift while Josh navigated using his phone.
The highway stretched before them, passing through California's central valley and up into the mountains. Josh watched the landscape change, from desert to farmland to forest. Normal America, going about its normal business, most people probably not even aware how close they'd come to extinction.
"You're quiet again," Kyla observed after an hour of silence.
"Just thinking. About Azazel. About those forty-seven thousand casualties. About how we won but it doesn't feel like winning."
"That's because it wasn't a clean victory. It was survival. We didn't defeat the First Ones, we negotiated with them. We didn't keep the Prime, we gave it away. We didn't save Azazel, we let him sacrifice himself." Kyla kept her eyes on the road. "But Josh, sometimes survival is the best you can do. Sometimes making it to the next day is enough."
"Is it though? All those people died. All that destruction. And for what? So we can turn around and fight Elder Marcus next? So the war just continues with a different enemy?"
"No. So humanity gets another chance. So forty-seven thousand becomes the final casualty count instead of seven billion." Kyla glanced at him. "You're thinking of this as incomplete. I'm thinking of it as we're still here to have this conversation. Perspective matters."
They stopped for gas and snacks at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere. Josh wandered the aisles of the convenience store, looking at magazines and candy bars and beef jerky, all the mundane products of human civilization. A week ago, none of this might have existed. The First Ones could have transformed Earth into something alien and hostile.
But they didn't. Because a group of people who hated each other figured out how to work together just long enough to make a difference.
Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was what victory looked like in the real world—not clean endings and happy celebrations, but survival and the chance to keep going.
Back in the car, Stevens had woken up and was complaining about neck pain from sleeping at a weird angle. "Next time we save the world, I'm demanding better accommodations. Maybe one of those fancy RVs. With a bed."
"I'll add it to the list of demands," Josh said. "Right after 'please stop trying to end the world' and 'could we go six months without dimensional invasions.'"
"Reasonable requests. Unlikely to be granted, but reasonable."
They drove through the afternoon and evening, taking turns at the wheel, stopping only for food and bathroom breaks. The closer they got to Tides, the more Josh felt something loosening in his chest. This was home. Not the DDI facility or the coalition bases or any of the war zones he'd been fighting in. This was where he'd started, where he'd met Kyla, where everything had begun.
Tides appeared just after midnight—a small city on the coast, lights reflecting off the water. It looked different than Josh remembered. Or maybe he was different. Hard to tell which.
They checked into a cheap motel near the beach, the kind of place that rented by the hour and didn't ask questions. Josh didn't care. It had beds and a shower and most importantly, it wasn't a military facility or battlefield.
"Tomorrow," Kyla said, already half-asleep. "Tomorrow we explore, eat at that pizza place we never got to try, walk on the beach. Be normal."
"Normal sounds good," Josh agreed.
But sleep didn't come easily. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, mind racing through everything that had happened. The battles, the losses, the impossible choices. Azazel's final sacrifice. The First Ones' departure. The forty-seven thousand dead.
Around three in the morning, he gave up on sleep and went for a walk on the beach. The ocean was calm, waves lapping gently against the sand. Stars stretched overhead, undimmed by city lights. It was peaceful in a way Josh had almost forgotten existed.
He found himself thinking about the young man in Azazel's visions. The one who'd been beaten in an alley and touched the Shard out of desperation. How different would things be if someone had helped that young man instead of ignoring him? If he'd been shown kindness instead of cruelty?
Would Azazel have ever existed? Or would that young man have lived a normal life, found happiness, died peacefully in his old age?
The butterfly effect of small choices leading to massive consequences.
"Can't sleep either?" a voice asked.
Josh spun around, powers ready, then relaxed when he saw Kenji sitting on a nearby rock. The former fire-user looked pale and thin, still recovering from his encounter with the Prime Shard.
"What are you doing here?" Josh asked.
"Same as you, probably. Came home. Needed to remember what normal felt like." Kenji gestured to the ocean. "I grew up in Tokyo, but I always loved the sea. After I got the fire powers, I was terrified of water. Thought it would extinguish me or something stupid like that. Now that the power's gone, I can appreciate it again."
"You don't regret losing your abilities?"
"Every day. And also not at all. It's complicated." Kenji picked up a handful of sand, letting it slip through his fingers. "The power felt amazing. Made me feel special, important, like I mattered. But it also made me paranoid, isolated, scared of what I might become. Now I'm just... Kenji. Normal, powerless Kenji. And some days that's enough."
"How do you live with that? Knowing you had something incredible and lost it?"
"By remembering that the power wasn't me. It was something using me as a host. My choices, my relationships, my humanity—that stuff was always mine. The fire was just borrowing space." Kenji smiled. "Plus, I don't have to worry about accidentally burning down buildings when I sneeze anymore. That's a perk."
They sat together watching the waves, two people who'd touched godlike power and survived. Josh felt some of the tension leaving his body, replaced by something like peace.
"Josh," Kenji said eventually. "What happened to Azazel? I heard rumors but nothing confirmed."
"He fought Elder Marcus to buy us time. The battle destroyed miles of jungle. But we didn't find a body. Don't know if he's dead, captured, or hiding somewhere."
"I hope he made it. I know that's weird—hoping the ice tyrant survived—but he tried to change. That should mean something."
"It does," Josh agreed.
They talked until dawn broke over the ocean, painting the sky in colors that reminded Josh why Earth was worth fighting for. Why all the sacrifice and pain and impossible choices mattered. Because moments like this existed. Because there was still beauty in the world.
Kyla found them on the beach around seven, bringing coffee from a nearby shop. "I should have known you two would find each other. You're like trauma-bonded brothers at this point."
"Trauma-bonded brothers," Kenji repeated. "I like that. Can we get matching jackets?"
"Absolutely not," Josh said, but he was smiling.
They spent the day being aggressively normal. Ate pancakes at a diner where the waitress called them "hun" and the coffee was terrible but somehow perfect. Walked along the pier, feeding seagulls and watching tourists take selfies. Visited an arcade and played games that had nothing to do with saving the world.
Josh was terrible at skee-ball but won a stuffed bear through sheer determination and possibly cheating with minor ice manipulation. Kyla pretended not to notice.
For eight hours, they weren't Shard-users or warriors or any of the things circumstance had made them. They were just three young people enjoying a day at the beach, laughing and arguing and being alive.
As the sun set, they sat on the sand eating ice cream and watching the sky change colors.
"Two more days of this," Stevens said. "Then back to saving the world. Think we can make it last?"
"We'll have to," Josh said. "But Stevens? Thanks. For this. For making me take a break. I needed it."
"That's what friends do. They drag you away from your brooding and make you eat ice cream and play arcade games." Stevens grinned. "Plus, now I can say I beat you at air hockey. That's going on my resume."
"You did not beat me. That was clearly a draw."
"Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep."
As night fell over Tides, Josh felt something he hadn't felt in months. Hope. Not the desperate hope of survival, but genuine hope for the future. They'd face Elder Marcus eventually. There would be more battles, more impossible choices, more casualties.
But they'd also have moments like this. Normal moments. Human moments.
And sometimes, that made all the difference.
His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: "The King lives. When you're ready to finish this, find me. We have a tyrant to stop. - A."
Josh stared at the message. Azazel was alive. Somewhere out there, the King of the Frozen Realm had survived his battle with Elder Marcus and was ready for the next fight.
But that was tomorrow's problem.
Today, Josh had ice cream and friends and a sunset over the ocean.
And for now, that was enough.