The triumph of purified water lasted for a glorious hour. The Command Wing felt less like a sterile refuge and more like a home. The air was clean, the water was pure, and for the first time in a century, they could drink without a lingering sense of dread. The mood was light, almost cheerful.
Rosa was performing a dramatic one-woman play about the "Perils of Rusty Water," using a spoon as her main character, Sir Reginald, a brave knight felled by impurities. Clara was giggling, as she polished her glasses. Even Scarlett was allowing herself a small smile, cleaning her swords with a newfound appreciation for their peaceful surroundings.
Jin sat at the table, watching them, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. This was what he fought for. This was why he had died and come back. Not for glory or power, but for moments like this.
