Marcel and team three arrive back at the gate with the surviving loggers. Melodie gives a quick report to the guards to be on alert due to powerful monsters wandering abnormally close to the walls. The drive through the city is quiet. No one speaks a word. A few of the men put their heads against the back of the seats in front of them. Others rest against the walls. Some are stock-still, but have tears rolling down their expressionless faces. The team drops the loggers back off. No one thanks the heroes, and none of the team want any to begin with. At most, Steed gives Marcel a handshake and a silent nod of his head as he helps his injured friends. Even the pained moans of those being carried out are subdued, barely louder than a whisper.
Melodie hands out the paperwork, and goes inside to give her report to the head office. They do the interviews one by one. Marcel goes last. He gives as much information as he can, and is questioned at length about the amarok and what it could be doing so close to the wall, but once the interviewer realized he doesn't know anything, Marcel's interview ends. All five members of team three get back on the bus, tired, and take their seats, except Melodie, who stands at the front by the driver's seat.
"You all did amazing today." She says. "I know we lost a lot, but everyone would have died if we hadn't been there. Remember that." She turns to Marcel. "I know this was your first real experience with something like this. But you handled it perfectly."
Marcel nods his head. Of all the team, he was the least upset by everything for the sole fact that everyone in his group survived, but that does not mean he was unaffected. The drive was mostly quiet, allowing Marcel time to think about the man who lost his arm. It was the most gruesome injury in his group, and the worst Marcel has ever seen with his own eyes. Johnny, who sat next to him, puts his hand on Marcel's shoulder without a word.
Back at the base, the transport pulls in hours ahead of schedule. Oasis King and Ziba come out to find out what happened. "You're back early." He says.
"The operation went bad." HotJack says.
"How bad?" Oasis King asks.
"Very bad." Melodie confirms. She hands him the reports they all filled out, and the ones from the head office. "It's all here, but in short, the perimeter of the forest was breached before we got there, and we lost a lot of the workers."
"We walked straight into an ambush." Crasher says, stepping off the transport. One by one, they all got off.
"At least everyone came back." Ziba says stoically. He understands they are not in the mood for a cheery upbeat tone, and keeps his voice even.
"Agreed." Melodie says.
"Thankfully, Marcel was there." Johnny adds. Upon hearing this, Oasis King's eye twitches slightly, but no one notices.
"Oh?" Ziba asks.
"An amarok showed up in the forest. Closer than one has ever come before. Marcel managed to beat it." Melodie explains.
"Who helped him?" King asks.
"No one." Johnny says.
"Kid did it by himself." HotJack confirms.
"Is this true?" King asks, hiding his welling emotions.
"Yes sir." Marcel answers. "But…" He pulls out his ruined weapons. "I wrecked my new weapons."
"We'll get them replaced. Don't worry about it." Ziba says. "And once all the paperwork is through, I'm sure you'll have more than enough money to customize them to your liking."
"For now, you all should get cleaned up." King interjects, gesturing to their blood-soaked clothes. "Get to decontamination, then to medical for a full-board. Then get some rest." With that, team three's mission was officially a failure.
A few days later, the media catches wind of what happened, and the base is flocked by reporters. Oasis King addresses their questions, and sends them away. But as each of team three are out and about over the next few weeks, they are all ambushed by reporters looking for a scoop.
Two more weeks pass before Marcel's weapons can be replaced, and during this time, he is also not allowed to go on any patrols. But the hide, claws, and fangs of the amarok are delivered to him before that. He decides to sell the claws, and most of the hide, making a substantial profit from both. He keeps a portion of the hide, and uses it to improve his armor. The hide itself is as tough as bronze, but much lighter, so he has it fashioned into guards for his legs and arms, as well as padding to slide under his chain shirt. The fangs he keeps and makes into a decorative necklace for his armor. He doesn't want to at first, but Johnny talks him into it, saying that other heroes will see it, and it will give both them, and civilians, confidence when he shows up.
Once he has his weapons, of which his staff has been upgraded with his personal money to include a steel core, he is finally ready to rejoin the patrols. But his hopes are subverted.
"We're pulling you off team three." Oasis King says. He, Marcel, and Ziba are in King's office, sat around his desk.
"What? Why?"
"After everything that has happened, we are worried about you." King says, his face portraying a look of concern. "This much attention isn't good for newbies."
"For now," Ziba adds, "you'll be on solo patrols in the city. A quiet area called Keilah. It's a small neighborhood near the wall. Very well protected. Nothing really happens there, so it will be a good place for you to wait out this media blitz and practice your skills."
"Solo patrols? So, I'll be alone?" Marcel asks.
"Right." King says.
"Back up will always be nearby if needed. But we don't expect it will be. Keilah hasn't had any monster or gang reports in nearly two years. And the last time it did was just a small issue." Ziba says.
"We expect you will be able to handle anything that comes up." Oasis King says.
"The police in the area have most of everything covered in the area anyway." Ziba says.
Marcel nods, "I understand." He isn't upset by the decision. He understands it more than anything, and trusts Ziba and King. He is told his patrols start in two days.
Once Ziba and Marcel leave King's office, he is left alone. Turning to his shelf, he clicks on the TV and the news plays. He's about to switch the channel when the reporter's words catch his attention.
"Up next, an interview with a young hero who single handedly saved nearly a dozen loggers in a surprise attack outside the walls." The interview with Marcel begins to play. It's clear the reporters had found him as he was leaving the base, and stopped him for questions The reporters praise Marcel; calling him a "rising star," and "a natural talent." They marvel at how such a young man could be so powerful. They play other interviews featuring team three, and each emphasizes how desperate the situation was, and how miraculous it is that Marcel defeated an amarok. King sits there, in his chair, with his finger hovering frozen over the button to change the channel. But he doesn't. His eyes narrow as he listens to the interview, and he feels a knot form in his stomach. Not of nerves, but frustration and jealousy. He'd been talked about like that once. He'd been praised for his power and skill. He was the "rising star" and "Natural talent." Now…
"I've got to get rid of him." King says, turning off the TV.