'I hate getting angry like that...' Orion thought gloomily as he walked, lost in his thoughts.

  Vi, biting her lip with silent tears streaming down her face, was not something he wao see. Nor a g Powder in the background as he walked away.

  But he was angry and needed space. When he shat was it. In the past, he remembered snapping in more violent, aggressive ways, so he avoided it as much as possible.

  'Outside of that... How am I even supposed to deal with this- Ah, I was supposed to stay and watch the performance. Well, that's fucked.'

  'She's probably w where I am with her soul searg or whatever that power is,' Orion thought, sn. 'I'll have to apologize ter-'

  As he veered into Emberflit Alley, Orion blinked as a thought struck him. 'Hold on, Vi likes Scratch's music. I introduce her if I stay friendly with Seraphihat's a pretty good makeup apology.'

  His thoughts tio trail him as his old home came into view with the tarp still hung on the sed floor's er.

  Orion exhaled as the door to his old home creaked open. Faint, gray dust sparkled in the air- everything was coated in a yer of dust.

  Casually he flicked the light switch, but the power was finally cut off. His gaze drifted across the room slowly. 'Looks like it hasn't been ransacked at least...'

  It retty strange feeling ing baberflit Alley after a year. Each thud of his boots against the floorboard sent waves of memories rushing ba.

  The fusion, the looming sense of dahe unknown, the raging storm within as their souls had merged. Dust puffed up with every step as he asded the stairs. Everything was exactly how he left it.

  Everything except ohing- his bed.

  Hung directly above it was a jacket- his old jacket- with two drawings on the chest pocket. He smiled and slowly walked toward it. One owder's monkey face drawing in blue and green, and the other was a strange... bunny...? in pink.

  'That had to have been Vi,' Orion chuckled, lifting the fps of his old jacket. His fingers ran across the rough fabric as his thoughts drifted. 'It would still fit, but hoeople would remember it? The bar patrons might...'

  His eyes wandered across the encircled "V", tered ihe jacket's interior on the back. Turning it on its hanger, he saw the rger stitched version, stitched in with bold red thread.

  Two spots with heavy thread, marking where he had been punctured iopside explosion, stood out promily.

  Silco's goons wouldn't know what Orion looked like- only Silco's closest fidants, like Sevika. While she wasn't the brightest, spotting familiar people as a life-long enforcer and bouncer was something she could do.

  Letting go of the thought, Orion gave the jacket one final look, his gaze lingering owo drawings before he turned away, a soft, gentle feeling floating inside him.

  'I'll make it up with them. I don't want to see them cry more,' Orion thought as he rummaged through the house, cheg hidden stashes under floorboards and panels on the walls.

  Relief flooded him when he found the five left-over silvers and some bullets. While the bullets were useless unless he bought a new gun, he could still sell them back at a dist.

  'I suppose the question now should be whether I should operate with Vander's group or step away and tinue alone for a while... There's the Syntaxi crystals- and this "Ferros" - that I have to worry about now.'

  Since Orion's stashes had yet to be looted, he returhree to their inal hiding spots before stepping outside. 'I suppose I still have this pce- just without lighting or heating, unless I ask Vao turn it ba.'

  ------------------------

  //The Last Drop//

  "Twist at your hips, move your head off terline when you're pung." Vander instructed.

  Inside Mylo and Cggor's room, a new pung bag hung in the er. After their st i, both of them were riled up.

  They had failed to protect Vi and Pain. Their pride was hurt, their sense of 'manliness' tarnished by their inability to protect what they cared about.

  Vander was shocked when Mylo, of all people, asked for this. Even Cggor looked a little stunned until Mylo started expining the feeling of powerlessness he felt.

  Smiling, Vander pced a hand on his shoulder and nodded. "It's alright. Yrowing and disc yourself. No one wants to lose people close to them or feel powerless."

  Within the day, the pung bag was hanging in their room, and they were already training.

  'Knowing them,' Vahought with pride, 'they'll be at this for weeks at least.'

  Cggor was sat down on the bed, sweat dripping from his forehead as Mylo tiaking instrus, delivering different bos.

  After slipping off terline, he drove his gloved fist up to where the imaginary ribcage on the bag would be, but his feet were awkwardly pced, so it didn't deliver much power.

  "You're improving," Vander praised, studying his footwork. "Just mind your foot pt."

  Bang!

  Their heads soward the door as it smmed open. Vander shifted sharply, startled since he hadn't heard the approag footsteps over the bag work.

  He instantly rexed when he saw it was Vi and Powder, but his face quickly torted with .

  Their eyes were puffy and tear-marks staiheir faces. Vander's expression darkened as he walked up to them, though it still carried worry and .

  Someone made his daughters cry.

  Vi hiccuped, and Vander blinked, his protective instincts sharpening.

  "What's wrong? What happened?" Vander asked softly, but the a the unseen culprit seeped into his voibsp;

  "Orion," Vi said, her voice crag as she hiccupped again. "He's alive."