After Torsken vanished, the return to Marionis felt like plunging into a dense, warm haze after a freezing vacuum. Steve and Henry walked through the familiar alleys, feeling the weight of recent events settling into their muscles. At the factory gates, Henry stopped and placed a hand on Steve's shoulder. He decided to stay with the boys—they needed his calm presence and oversight while the city still vibrated with the echoes of the recent clash.
Steve headed straight for the administration building. The heavy oak doors of the office yielded with their familiar groan. Inside, there was that distinct, busy hum that Steve loved most: the clatter of typewriters, the rustling of thick parchment, and muffled arguments over the delivery of timber and varnish. The air was thick with the scent of freshly brewed tea and printer's ink.
"Steve! You're back!" The ringing voice of his youngest sister cut through the office quiet.
He was surrounded instantly. His sisters and Elisa fluttered out from behind their desks, which were piled high with invoices and sketches of new mannequin models. For a moment, work ground to a halt. The girls pelted him with questions, their eyes shining with a mix of anxiety and relief. But suddenly, their gazes, as if on cue, locked onto his chest. There, against the dark leather of his vest, a silver five-pointed star shone with a cold, clean light.
"Steve... is that a real badge?" Elisa caught her breath, reaching out but not quite daring to touch the cold metal.
"Congratulations, Sheriff!" his sisters beamed, their voices a blend of pride and awe.
Steve straightened his back, looking monumental in the shafts of sunlight streaming through the high office windows. He touched the star with his fingers, feeling its solid weight.
"Thank you," he replied, his voice low but firm. "I've made a choice: every time enemies—no matter who they are or where they come from—decide to trouble us or sow chaos, I will wear this badge. To spite them. I am now a sheriff beyond time and space. If people need help, I will stand guard everywhere and always. Consider the Law to have taken physical form."
The office grew so quiet you could hear someone's tea cooling in its mug. Steve moved toward the desks, and the conversation shifted smoothly back to business. His sisters took turns showing him reports: orders for mannequins from the southern provinces, logistics issues, new contracts for joint hinges. Steve listened intently, absorbing every figure, approving of their grit and business acumen. He saw that while he was gone, they hadn't just sat idly—they had been running an empire.
Finally, the bustle died down, and he was left alone with Elisa by the window. She spoke of her plans to expand the finishing shop, her eyes alight with ideas. Steve listened, admiring her energy, but his face remained grave.
"Elisa, listen," he interrupted once she finished describing a new model. "Your ideas are brilliant, and I'm fully behind them. Но times have changed. Until the bandits who attacked us are caught and punished, I cannot gamble with your safety."
"What are you proposing?" she asked, watching him closely, noticing how Steve's fingers instinctively tightened on his belt.
"You won't be going home in the evenings anymore. This factory has plenty of empty rooms and lounge areas; everything we need is here. Temporarily, we are all moving in. We'll turn this plant into a fortress. These are hard times, and we must stick together under the protection of these walls."
Elisa remained silent for a moment, looking at the silver star on his chest, then stepped closer.
"Bring order to this city, Sheriff," she whispered. "We'll be right here."
She reached for him and kissed him with a firm, confident kiss. Outside the office windows, Marionis continued its eternal race, but here, among the blueprints and the scent of wood, Steve Kellark knew for certain: his real work was only just beginning.