The ranger station was small—a single room with a kitchenette, a few mismatched chairs, and a couch that had seen better decades. It smelled of dust and pine and the faint chemical tang of old cleaning supplies. But it was dry, it was hidden, and for now, it was home.
Eva sat in one of the chairs, her legs propped up on the small table, her head tilted back toward the ceiling. Her hair was short again—cropped to her ears in a cut that was more practical than pretty. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't sleeping. Just... waiting.
Jordan occupied the couch, his katana resting across his knees, his eyes half-lidded but watchful. Even in rest, he was calculating, processing, ready.
Zoey leaned against the kitchen counter, her scarred face catching the faint light from a cracked window. She'd traded her Architect uniform for scavenged clothes, but something in her posture still held the discipline of years in white corridors.
Lena sat at the small table across from Eva, her dark hair still pulled back in its tight bun, her grey mask—Dave's mask—set on the table beside her. She'd taken it off hours ago and hadn't put it back on.
And Dave himself sat in the corner, his mask still firmly in place, his grey-clad form radiating the particular stillness of someone who had spent decades being underestimated.
Superior-1. The one who'd fought Eva in the bunker. The one who'd let them go. The one who'd told them to call him Dave now.
"So," Eva said without moving, her voice flat, "how did you find him?"
Zoey answered. "Honestly? We didn't. He found us."
Lena's eyes narrowed at Dave. "How did you survive the council?"
Dave's modulated voice was calm, almost amused. "Did you really think they could kill me?"
"Yes," Lena said flatly.
A sound that might have been a chuckle came through the modulator. "Fair enough."
Dave leaned forward slightly, his grey mask catching the light. "Anyway. I see you're all in a bit of a pickle here. Your sister is... troublesome, isn't she? And now you have to team up with the Architects to find her." He paused. "But have you thought about how you'll get her out when they find her first?"
Eva didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. "I'll get her out. No matter what."
Zoey shifted, her scarred face troubled. "Lily has killed thousands. Why did she do that? Why is she doing it now?" She shook her head. "How can we even stop her? She's the Monster Queen."
Dave's voice was quiet. "How do you stop a person who's too far gone into madness... you release the devil on it. ?"
Lena frowned. "And who's that?"
The door opened.
Derek walked in first, his bulk filling the frame for a moment before he stepped aside. Maya followed, her cropped hair catching the light, her expression unreadable. Leo came next, his posture still carrying the tension of years on the road.
And then Wolfen walked in.
He looked different—cleaner, his hair short, his body wrapped in fresh bandages beneath his clothes. But his eyes were the same. Those golden eyes that had seen too much, survived too much, become too much.
"Hey, sugar cubes," he said to Zoey, his voice carrying that familiar, insufferable warmth. "How you doing?"
There was an old, empty can on the counter beside Zoey. She grabbed it and threw it at him without hesitation.
It hit him square in the chest and fell to the floor.
Wolfen looked down at it, then back at her, his expression wounded. "Is that how you welcome your old friend?"
Zoey's lips twitched, but she didn't smile.
"Hey, Wolfen." Eva's voice came from the chair. She still hadn't moved. Hadn't opened her eyes.
Wolfen crossed the room in a few easy strides. He looked down at her—at her short hair, her closed eyes, her feet on the table—and grabbed her by the ankles.
He pulled.
Eva hit the floor with a thud and a very undignified yelp. Her eyes snapped open, blazing with purple fire for just a moment before she recognized who was standing over her.
"Why did you do that?!" she demanded, scrambling up.
Wolfen's expression was utterly serious. "Get your shit together."
Eva stared at him.
"I'm back," he said quietly. "I'll fix everything. But first, you need to start telling me what happened after I was gone. All of it."
The room was silent. Everyone watched.
Eva's fire died. Something in her shoulders loosened—just slightly, just enough.
She sat back down, properly this time, and gestured for the others to do the same.
"It's a long story," she said.
Wolfen pulled up a chair, his golden eyes fixed on her face. "I've got time."
The ranger station settled into the quiet of shared purpose. Outside, the forest breathed. Inside, the family reunited.
The story was about to begin.