Dinner was…strange. Not [i]bad[/i], but certainly off. The girls had no doubt grown used to the relentlessness of Besca’s work stealing her away some nights, but after such a momentous day, the dorm felt distinctly [i]lesser[/i] without her to eat with them. 

Dahlia tried her best with the recipe, but was still a learner and with Lombardi cuisine she was treading new ground. The sauce was a bit thick, the noodles a more standard spaghetti, and the garnish decidedly past its expiry date, but with Quinn beside her at the stove, eventually, dinner was served. She even haphazardly threw some leftover chicken in the microwave for Roaki’s plate. It was unseasoned and practically bone-dry—Roaki didn’t care, she ate it with the same ravenous vigor that she ate everything she’d eaten since leaving the medical ward.

Together they all sat at the counter, eating in intermittent silence. The TV stayed off, but Dahlia put on some music from her own playlist—an assortment of smooth, jazzy piano numbers, and what might have been acoustic covers of metal songs. They talked briefly about the singularities, but Dahlia quickly turned them to lighter, mundane topics. Roaki quite literally licked her plate clean, sparing them whatever horrific contributions she might have made to the conversation.

As they finished up, Quinn handled the dishes while Dahlia found a movie to put on, and set up the couch. An old romcom she’d watched a few times with Safie—something she elected not to mention as Quinn nestled into the pillows and blankets. Unsurprisingly, Roaki hobbled herself back to her own room and shut the door, which didn’t bother Dahlia in the slightest. She curled in beside Quinn under the blankets, happy as could be. 

Neither of them stayed awake to the end. 

[hr]
Calm waters on the lake. The boat floated upon the moon’s perfect reflection, so bright it seemed the light was rising [i]up[/i] out of the lake. In the distance, Hovvi was alive with the same ambiguous activity that, normally, Quinn would never have paid mind to. Tonight, though, she was aware of it—of the slight but pervasive offness that reminded her she was asleep, and this was a dream. 

On the shore, the towering form of [i]Ablaze[/i] sat with its legs dangling in the water. The pale deer sat at its side, a white smudge comparatively. 

A soft, excited giggling filled the air. 

“[color=black]We’re real,[/color]” came her own, familiar voice, as [color=black]Quinnlash[/color] appeared sitting across from her on the boat. Her face beamed with childish glee, in her hands she held tight onto a pouch of juice—melonberry. Between them was a small cooler filled with more. “[color=black]Look what we did. We protected everyone. We killed the monsters. We did it and it felt so [i]right[/i]![/color]”

She took a long sip from her drink, squeezing the pouch empty with a contented sigh, before breaking into another fit of giggles. 
“[color=black]It’s our purpose. Helping. Saving. Protecting. We did it. We did it [i]together[/i].[/color]”