A few days after Ashwick burned, Nathan Cross stood in the Celestial Peak briefing room, feeling the accumulated weight of the last few months pressing heavily against his spine.
His party assembled around him, quiet but coiled. Garrett leaned back in his chair, Volcan propped carelessly against his leg while Red dozed at his feet. Dillon nursed a mug of black coffee, casually ignoring the tiny sparks Cloudy was spitting at passing dust motes from her perch on his shoulder. Near the window, Elise reviewed notes, the shifting, ethereal light of the Aurora Wing Tiara casting soft colors across her face. Mirko stood in her humanoid form at Nathan's right hand, immaculate and proud, while Kuro melted into the shadows near the eastern window, her dark eyes tracking the sunrise.
They were rested. They were resupplied. They were ready.
