The long dining hall of the Atlantean palace had never heard laughter quite like this.
The air was thick with the scent of unfamiliar spices and roasted meats. Fruits shimmered like gems beneath crystal domes, and tall pitchers of glowing blue water—infused with restorative minerals—glistened in the low torchlight. The stone table stretched nearly the length of the room, ornately carved and ringed with chairs that had not been filled in decades.
Tonight, they were full.
Kida sat at the head, radiant in her ceremonial garb—though far more relaxed than her coronation robes. A golden circlet rested lightly against her brow. Milo sat at her right, leaning forward to help her reach a platter of steamed shellfish, laughing as he nearly spilled a jug of water in the process.
Helios reclined lazily near the middle of the table, arms draped over the back of his seat, his plate already picked clean. Skuld sat beside him, poking suspiciously at a glowing tuber with her fork, while Kurai nibbled thoughtfully on something wrapped in silver kelp.
Further down, the surface crew dug in with enthusiasm.
"Now this," Cookie declared, holding up a glowing fruit, "this is how you do dessert. Don't need teeth. Don't need fire. Heck, don't even need hands if you're flexible enough."
"Don't give Packard ideas," Audrey muttered.
Packard, who was currently attempting to eat without removing his headset, offered a faint grunt in acknowledgment.
"Is it supposed to glow like that?" Molière asked, peering through thick goggles as he dissected a leaf with tweezers.
"It's bio-luminescent," Sweet replied, popping a chunk of it into his mouth. "Perfectly safe. Might give you dreams you won't wanna share, though."
Laughter rippled around the table.
Kida raised her glass and stood.
The room quieted.
"I want to thank all of you," she said, voice clear and warm. "For fighting with us. For saving this city. And for remembering my father with me."
She looked around the table, lingering on each face.
"You are all welcome to stay in Atlantis for as long as you wish. This is your home, if you want it."
The words hung there like a soft blanket, wrapping each guest in warmth.
Helios raised a hand lazily. "We'll take you up on that. A few more days, a week maybe. Stories to trade, magic to teach, mysteries to unravel."
He gestured with his glass. "Though frankly, I suspect your library may be the true treasure."
Kida chuckled. "Milo's already locked himself in there twice today."
Milo flushed slightly. "It's a very efficient filing system."
"Oh yes," Helios said slyly. "And very romantic, too. Nothing says love like ancient tax records."
That earned a smirk from Skuld and a chuckle from Cookie.
But then Helios tilted his head, locking eyes with Milo.
"Of course, you staying here does send a message."
Milo blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You carved Kashekim's stone face," Helios said. "Tradition states that only the children of the deceased—and the spouses of these children—may do so. Helping Kida carve it… well."
A beat passed.
"Oh," Milo said, eyes widening.
Kida blushed.
"Oh," Skuld echoed with a grin.
Cookie laughed loudest. "Congratulations, lovebirds!"
Helios raised his glass. "To the unintentional engagement."
Kida buried her face in her hands, but she was smiling beneath her fingers. Milo reached over and took her hand gently, and she didn't pull away.
Later, as the meal began winding down, Kida stood again, this time with a small chest carried by two attendants.
"We cannot let you leave empty-handed," she said. "For your service to Atlantis—"
Molière perked up. "Is it rubies? No wait—sapphires. Ooh, a singing diamond!"
"—each of you will receive a crystal, one of the lesser fragments of the Heart," Kida continued. "They carry residual power. Healing, energy, and light. Not as potent as the Heart itself, but still miraculous. These have allowed u to live for thousands of years."
Audrey let out a low whistle. "You're serious?"
"They're also very pretty," Sweet added, examining his piece under the table's glow.
Packard blinked at his. "Mine's warm. I like it."
"And this," Kida said, opening the chest's lower compartment, "is your share of the treasure recovered from the old royal vaults. Gold. Artifacts. Stones. Enough to secure your futures."
Cookie gave a dramatic sniff. "I ain't crying. That's just spice fumes."
Vincenzo turned his crystal slowly in his fingers, awe plain on his face. "This could power a generator for years…"
"I'm gonna build my dream garage," Audrey announced. "Full upgrades. No weird volcano interruptions."
Sweet chuckled. "Guess we're all going up in the world."
"Or down," Molière muttered, petting his crystal like a pet rock.
Kurai hadn't spoken much throughout the meal. She mostly watched—quietly, as if trying to memorize the moment. But when Skuld leaned into her and asked if she was bored, Kurai simply shook her head.
"No," she said softly. "This is… unfamiliar. But not quite as unpleasant. It is still annoying."
Helios tilted his glass in mock-toast. "That's basically a confession of joy from her."
Kurai side-eyed him, but didn't argue.
Skuld smiled.
As the torches dimmed and the stars returned to the Atlantean sky, the table emptied slowly. Conversations dwindled into warm silence, like the last embers of a fire.
Kida and Milo stayed behind, hands still linked, heads bowed close.
Skuld rested her head on folded arms.
Cookie snored audibly into a napkin.
And for a little while longer, no one was running. No one was fighting. No one was lost.
They were, at last, allowed to be.