TWO DAYS AFTER THE EVENTS OF CHOREEES
On a distant island, the wind tugged at palm fronds and whipped grains of sand across patches of wild grass. The sun burned high, indifferent, over a place that had remained untouched for most of its life… until they arrived.
At the edge of the island, a small shack leaned precariously, wood groaning with age. Inside, two beds sat side by side, a wooden closet stood empty, and rags were pinned over the window frames, letting in only thin streams of light. A bare table and a broom completed the room, giving it the feel of a space abandoned to time.
Shirley and Tucker laid on the beds, side by side, wrapped in layers of bandages. Shirley's head, forearm, and torso were swathed in white cloth that itched and rubbed raw, but he barely noticed. Tucker fared worse: head, shoulder, both forearms, torso, and legs encased in stiff casts that made every slight movement a trial.
The room was silent except for the distant cries of seagulls and the occasional creak of the shack settling. Shirley shifted slightly, wincing as the bandages dug into his skin, a dull ache crawling through him with every heartbeat. Tucker's legs twitched against the cast, as if testing them for life, and a sharp pang ran up his legs. He swallowed through the pain, lungs burning from exhaustion, wishing the air was cooler, gentler, less demanding of strength he didn't have.
They laid like that, side by side, bruised and battered, neither speaking. The weight of everything they had endured pressed down on them heavier than the bandages could contain. Outside, the island stretched wide and indifferent, the wind carrying nothing but salt and the distant cry of survival.
Outside the shack, near the jagged edge of the island, Madison sat with her toes skimming the water. The gentle waves lapped at her feet, cool and restless, echoing the ache in her chest. She wore simple blue shorts and a plain white shirt, her left arm wrapped in bandages. A few more small patches marred her face. Her gaze stretched to the horizon, eyes half-lidded, letting out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh.
The soft rhythm of the waves was suddenly interrupted by quick, scuttling steps. ZE210 came into view, clutching a crab tightly in both hands, his straw bucket hat tilted jauntily over his glasses, his shorts flapping in the breeze.
"Look, Madison! Look!" he called, practically bouncing.
Madison looked up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Woah… you caught that?"
ZE210 puffed up proudly, a smirk spreading across his face. "Of course I did, m'lady! With my very own hands!"
She laughed lightly, warmth flickering through her exhaustion. "I'm proud of you, Z."
His cheeks colored, and he grinned sheepishly. "Thanks…" he muttered. Then his eyes lit up again. "Hey! How are Shirley and Tucker doing? They saved all the people of Choreees. Everyone owes them! No, I owe them! I'm proud of them."
Madison straightened slightly, resolve rising in her chest despite her weariness. "Let's go check on them."
ZE210 nodded, scurrying ahead toward the shack. Madison followed at a steadier pace.
The door creaked open, revealing Shirley and Tucker sitting up on their respective beds, engaged in quiet conversation.
"Yeah, and then what happened after that?" Shirley asked, eyes distant.
Tucker rubbed his shoulder lightly and spoke, "I jumped out the window with you. Then the snow… we struggled. I had to use Quick Reset, but we made it."
Shirley exhaled, letting his head fall back against the headrest. "I can't… Micheal…" The words trailed off, heavy with grief.
Tucker's fists clenched at his sides. "I was so mad… we couldn't save him. He was getting beaten, and we… we just watched. Damnit."
At that moment, ZE210 and Madison stepped inside.
"Hey, y'all!" ZE210 called, his voice trying to carry its usual cheer.
The room fell silent. Shirley muttered, "Hey…" and Tucker added, "Yo…"
Madison leaned against the doorway, eyes soft but shadowed with pain. "How are you guys… you know… after everything?"
Shirley's jaw tightened. "I'm still in shock. I can't believe it. I was mad at him, sure… but I still cared. We were supposed to do so much more…"
Tucker's voice cracked, tension coiling in his shoulders. "He was gone before we could even catch our breath. We were too weak… too slow…"
Madison swallowed hard, the tears threatening to fall. "Doug… he told me everything. About… Micheal. How could… dang it…" Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The shack went quiet. Even ZE210, normally impossible to rattle, fell still, trying to process the weight of the grief that hung in the air.
Two more figures appeared behind Madison in the doorway.
Sage and Doug.
They stood just far enough back that their shadows stretched into the small room before they did.
Madison stepped aside to make space.
Sage glanced around once, slow and unimpressed.
"Well," he said flatly, eyes sweeping over bandages, casts, bruises, and exhaustion,
"you all look like shit."
Doug instinctively lifted his arm to elbow him.
His elbow passed through empty air.
Doug froze.
His eyes dropped.
Then snapped back up.
Sage was leaning casually against the wall in a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and, of all things, sandals.
His left arm was gone.
Doug stared.
Sage followed his gaze and sighed.
"…Oh. Yeah."
He tilted his head slightly.
"My bad, dude. I keep forgetting it's gone now."
The words were light Maybe a bit too light.
He slid down the wall and sat on the floor with his back against it, one knee pulled up.
"Cael," he muttered. "That's who did it."
The room tightened.
Tucker's voice came quietly.
"What… did he do to you?"
Sage dragged his right hand down his face.
"Not important."
A pause.
"Just know I tried fighting him."
He let out a dry, breathless laugh.
"And I lost."
His eyes shifted toward Shirley.
"Don't know how you pulled it off."
Shirley shook his head slowly.
"I didn't. Not really. The fight ended too abruptly. And honestly…"
His jaw clenched.
"If it kept going, I think I would've lost too."
Tucker nodded.
"Same here. Asura was… strong. We were pretty even, but I was hitting my limit."
He waited a beat. "…Good thing I beat him."
The sentence landed strangely.
The room went quiet.
Doug broke it.
"CORE almost killed me."
Everyone looked at him.
He spoke calmly, but his voice carried a thin edge underneath.
"Those ice powers… he pinned me down and made me watch you two get blown into the snow."
Doug's jaw tightened.
"Layers of ice over my chest. My arms were stuck out. Couldn't move. Couldn't even turn my head."
He lifted his hands slightly.
"They left me hanging like that."
A short pause.
"My fingers went numb, then black. Thought they were gonna snap clean off."
He pulled at the loose collar of his sunflower shirt and lifted it just enough to show the thick bandaging wrapped around his torso.
"Tucker's blast saved me."
Tucker blinked.
Doug nodded.
"The wind pressure cracked the ice wall behind me. Gave me just enough room to rip myself free."
A quiet breath left him.
"Lost some skin. Nothing the good old bandage method can't fix."
Madison folded her arms loosely, her expression tightening.
"…We all went through the void, right?"
Everyone looked at her.
She leaned back against the doorframe.
"In that moment… I really thought it led nowhere."
Her voice dropped.
"I thought we were about to die." A breath "…I was ready to jump anyway."
The room stayed still.
"But something told me there was more down there."
Her fingers curled slowly into her sleeve.
"So we released the anchors. Let the boats fall."
A faint, disbelieving smile tugged at her lips.
"We dropped straight into the sea."
She exhaled.
"And somehow… all of them survived."
Shirley lifted his head.
"Everyone…?"
"Everyone," Madison said.
Shirley leaned back against his bed and let out a long, heavy breath.
"So… we all just got insanely lucky."
Tucker shot him a sideways look.
Then slowly lifted one casted leg an inch off the mattress.
Shirley blinked.
"…Oh."
"Yeah," Tucker muttered.
Sage snorted.
Doug huffed.
Madison smiled despite herself.
"Honestly… your legs are healing fast. Faster than a normal person's would."
She tilted her head.
"You'll be fine, Tucker. Sooner than you think."
Tucker groaned.
"Can't you just… heal them?"
Madison shook her head slowly.
"It's been too long."
Then quieter,
"…And I'm barely standing as it is."
She rubbed her forearm unconsciously.
"We were supposed to set sail in a couple days. Take the people of Choreees somewhere safe."
Her voice softened.
"But until I recover… that's not happening."
Shirley straightened.
"Wait—"
His eyes widened.
"They're all here?"
Madison nodded.
"All the civilians, yes."
A pause.
"Not Cael. Not Asura. And definitely not CORE."
She looked away.
"We only took people who needed saving. No guards. No soldiers. We left them behind."
Shirley released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Doug leaned back on his palms.
"Good."
Then quietly,
"Hope I never see that place again."
He glanced toward the thin wooden wall.
"Choreees is always shifting, drifting, always moving. Through space like it doesn't belong anywhere."
A faint, bitter chuckle.
"If the timing was off by even a little… we wouldn't have fallen over an island."
He looked around the room.
"We'd be dead meat."
No one argued.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward.
A rare, shared stillness.
"I'm happy it's over."