I woke up to the faint hum of the airship’s engines and a dull ache radiating through my entire body. My head throbbed as if someone had taken a hammer to it, and my ribs protested with every breath.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” a voice said dryly.

I blinked against the dim light, my vision slowly coming into focus. Harris was leaning against the wall near the foot of the bed I was sprawled on, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.

“What... happened?” I croaked, my voice hoarse.

“You got yourself tossed around like a ragdoll,” Harris said bluntly. “I had to carry your sorry butt back here.”

The memories came rushing back in flashes—the clearing, Misty, the wind slamming me into the ground.

“Where is she?” I asked, trying to sit up.

“Gone,” Harris said. “Flew off over the ocean.”

“Gone?” I repeated, the weight of the word sinking in.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing off the wall. “Took off not long after she knocked you out. Storm’s gone with her, so the island’s in the clear for now.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, relief mingling with disappointment.

“You’re an idiot, by the way,” Harris added, his tone casual. “What the hell were you thinking, saying something like that to her? It was pretty obvious that she either can’t talk or doesn't like to.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” I admitted, wincing as I tried to adjust my position.

“Clearly,” he muttered, shaking his head.

The door hissed open, and Rio stormed in, her fiery hair in disarray and her blue eyes blazing.

“You’re awake,” she said, stopping short when she saw me sitting up.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to manage a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” she said, her voice rising. “You got thrown around like a chew toy, Ben!”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Vale stepped into the room, cutting her off.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Vale said, her tone brisk but edged with a hint of concern.

“Yeah, thanks to Harris,” I said.

Harris snorted. “Don’t mention it.”

Vale stepped closer, her gray eyes scanning me critically. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” I said honestly.

“That’s about right,” she said, folding her arms. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

I nodded, then glanced at her. “What happens now?”

Vale hesitated, her expression tightening. “Misty’s no longer near the island, so the immediate threat has passed. But this was a failure, Ben. We needed a bond.”

Her words stung more than I expected. I’d known I hadn’t done well out there, but hearing it so plainly made it feel like I’d let everyone down.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I tried.”

Vale sighed, her expression softening slightly. “I know you did. And I’m glad you’re okay—that’s what matters right now. But we need to be better prepared next time. We can’t afford another loss like this.”

“What about Misty?” I asked.

“She’s over the ocean now, as is her storm,” Vale said. “We’ll track her movements, but as long as she stays over the water, we’ll just let her fade. No point in engaging with her if she’s not damaging anything.”

Her words didn’t offer much comfort, but I nodded anyway.

“Get some rest,” Vale said, her tone gentler now. 

She left the room, Harris following close behind, leaving me alone with Rio.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“You really scared me, you know,” she said finally, her voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

I looked at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. “I’m sorry,” I said.

She shook her head, her hair falling into her face. “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”

I smiled faintly. “I’ll try.”

Her lips twitched, like she was trying not to smile back. “You’d better.”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint hum of the airship.

A few hours later, the airship was now a submarine once again. I sat in one of the chairs near the console, trying to ignore the ache in my ribs and the lingering fog in my head. Rio leaned against the wall nearby, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed out the observation window. She hadn’t said much since our conversation earlier.

Vale and Harris stood at the front of the ship, quietly discussing something I couldn’t hear. Vale’s expression was as sharp and focused as ever, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

Finally, Vale turned to face us. “We’re almost at the island,” she said, her tone brisk. “When we drop you off, I’ll let you know the plan moving forward.”

Rio raised an eyebrow. “Plan?”

Vale nodded. “This wasn’t the outcome we wanted, but it’s not the end. The next time we locate an entity, we’ll contact you. We’re not giving up on this.”

Rio frowned. “So we just sit around and wait for your call like last time?”

“Pretty much,” Harris said, smirking faintly.

Vale shot him a look before continuing. “Use this time to rest and prepare. We need everyone at their best for the next time an entity appears.”

The submarine docked at Vale’s secret facility. Vale and Harris escorted us to the hatch, the fresh air rushing in as it slid open.

“This is where we part ways for now,” Vale said, her gray eyes scanning the horizon.

I hesitated at the edge of the hatch, glancing back at her. “You’ll call if anything happens, right?”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re a key part of this, Ben. We’ll need you when the time comes.”

Rio scoffed softly but didn’t say anything.

Harris clapped me on the shoulder as I stepped out onto the grass. “Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

“I’ll do my best,” I said with a faint smile.

Rio followed me out, pausing briefly to glance back at Vale. “Good luck with... whatever this is,” she said, waving vaguely toward the submarine/airship.

“Thanks,” Vale said, her lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Stay safe.”

The hatch closed with a quiet hiss, and moments later, the submarine sank back into the water.

Rio smirked faintly, falling into step beside me as we started walking toward the village.

Back in the apartment, the silence was a welcome change after the chaos of the last few days. I sank onto the couch, sighing as the cushions did their best to accommodate my sore ribs. The dull ache in my side flared as I shifted, and I winced, trying to find a comfortable position.

“You’re hopeless,” Rio said, standing over me with her hands on her hips.

“I’m fine,” I protested weakly.

She snorted. “You’re limping, you can’t sit down without wincing, and your face looks like you went three rounds with a tornado. You’re not fine.”

“Technically, it might’ve been a tornado,” I said.

Rio crossed her arms, fixing me with a glare that could have melted steel. “You’re letting me take care of you.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It means you’re going to sit there and do what I tell you for once,” she said, already moving toward the kitchen.

I watched her rummage through the cabinets, muttering to herself as she pulled out a mismatched assortment of items: a box of bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what I was pretty sure was a can of soup.

“Uh, Rio?” I said hesitantly. “I don’t think soup is part of a first aid kit.”

“Don’t question my methods,” she said without looking at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh, which turned into a wince as my ribs protested.

Rio turned back to me, balancing the collection of supplies in her arms. “Okay, let’s see the damage,” she said, plopping down next to me and setting everything on the coffee table.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, trying to wave her off.

She grabbed my wrist and gave me a look that said she wasn’t buying it. “Shirt off,” she ordered.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I need to check your ribs.”

I hesitated, but the look on her face told me I wasn’t going to win this argument. With a sigh, I carefully pulled off my shirt, wincing as the movement sent a sharp pain through my side.

Rio’s expression shifted from annoyed to concerned as she took in the bruises spreading across my ribs. “Ben,” she said quietly, her fingers hovering just above the worst of it.

“It looks worse than it is,” I said quickly.

“That’s not comforting,” she said, reaching for the rubbing alcohol.

“What are you doing?” I asked, leaning away.

“Cleaning you up,” she said matter-of-factly. “Hold still.”

“Wait, wait—” I started, but it was too late. She dabbed a cloth with the alcohol and pressed it against a scrape on my side.

I hissed through my teeth. “You’re supposed to be helping, not torturing me!”

“Stop being a baby,” she said, though there was a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

For the next few minutes, Rio worked in silence, her touch surprisingly gentle despite her earlier bravado. She cleaned the scrapes on my arms and side, applied ointment, and wrapped the worst of the bruises with bandages.

“There,” she said finally, leaning back to admire her handiwork. “You’re not going to die on my watch.”

“Thanks, Dr. Rio,” I said dryly, pulling my shirt back on with a wince.

She snorted. “You’re lucky I’m here. Who knows what kind of mess you’d be in without me?”

“Probably a lot quieter,” I teased.

Her eyes narrowed, and she grabbed the can of soup from the table. “Want me to chuck this at your head?”

I raised my hands in surrender. “I’ll be good.”

She grinned, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. “Good. Now, you’re going to rest. No arguing.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” I said, leaning back against the cushions.

Rio grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it over me. “Stay put,” she said, heading for the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” I called after her.

“To make soup,” she said, her tone overly dramatic. “Apparently, it’s the only thing you’re qualified to eat right now.”