The morning sun was pale but warm.
Hiro stood beside the jeep, his bags already loaded, his body still sore from the day before. The Delinquent Base stretched behind him—graffiti-covered walls, cracked pavement, flickering lights. It wasn't pretty.
But it was home. For someone.
Beatrice walked toward them, her leather jacket replaced by a clean uniform. She stopped in front of Yurei.
"The reports are filed," she said. "The Gate is closed. The unit is intact."
Yurei nodded. "Good."
"The promotion?"
"I'll recommend you. That's all I can promise."
Beatrice's jaw tightened but she nodded. "That's more than anyone else has ever done for us."
She turned to Hiro.
"You, fox."
Hiro straightened. "Yeah?"
"You're not bad. For an S-class."
"You've said that before."
"Doesn't make it less true." Beatrice extended her hand. "If you ever need a place to crash, the Doghouse is open."
Hiro shook it. "Thanks. Same to you. If you're ever in Central City..."
"I'll bring my own booze."
Hiro laughed.
Scott stepped forward, his glasses glinting. "Hiro. One more thing."
"What?"
"You bit my tail." Scott's voice was deadpan. "I haven't forgotten."
"I haven't forgotten you trying to crush my skull."
"Fair point." Scott's lips twitched. "Stay alive, fox."
"You too, stickler."
The other slaves—Winston, Stanley, Marcus waved from the gate. Sally, Felicia, and Ramona stood behind them, arms crossed, trying to look tough. But Hiro saw Felicia wipe her eye.
Marian climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Let's go, lovebirds," she called.
Yurei sighed. "She's impossible."
"You love her."
"Don't tell her that."
Hiro climbed into the back seat as the jeep rumbled to life. The Delinquent Base grew smaller behind them—the graffiti, the cracked walls, the flickering lights.
But it didn't look like a prison anymore.
It looked like a beginning.
---
The road stretched ahead, flat and endless. The Wasteland gave way to scrubland, then to farmland, then to the outskirts of Central City.
Marian drove with one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the window. Her hair whipped in the wind. She was humming—some old tune Hiro didn't recognize.
Yurei sat in the passenger seat, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. Not sleeping. Just... resting.
Hiro watched the landscape change. The gray faded to green. The air smelled less like ash and more like earth.
"How far?" he asked.
"Hour, maybe two," Marian said. "Depends on traffic."
"Traffic?"
"Believe it or not, the world doesn't stop just because we're saving it."
Their emergency lights could only be used when there was a Gate Breach otherwise they had to abide to the regular traffic laws.
Hiro leaned back. His body still ached, but the bruises were fading. The chain tattoo on his neck pulsed gently—warm, comforting.
Two weeks, he thought. Two weeks and everything changed.
He wasn't the same person who had arrived at the Doghouse—nervous, unsure, terrified of failing. He had fought. He had bled. He had won.
And he wasn't alone.
He glanced at Marian. She caught his look and raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then stop staring."
He looked away, smiling.
---
The gates of Central City appeared on the horizon—tall, white, gleaming in the afternoon sun. The Imperial insignia was carved into the stone, a chained phoenix encircling a crimson sun.
The guards saluted as the jeep passed through.
"Welcome back, Captain Skyfall."
Yurei opened her eyes. "It's good to be back."
The streets were clean, ordered, familiar. Civilians moved aside as the jeep passed. No chaos. No graffiti. No flickering lights.
It was home.
The 13th Royal Unit base stood at the end of the road—a traditional Japanese mansion with curved roofs and wooden beams, surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers.
Marian parked the jeep.
Daisy was waiting at the gate, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of relief and annoyance.
"Took you long enough," she said.
"Missed you too," Marian replied.
Elira leaned against the wall, her visible eye half-closed. "Any casualties?"
"None," Yurei said. "They did well."
Bailey stood beside them, clipboard in hand. "The reports are ready for your review. Also, the Matriarch's office called. They want an update."
"They always do." Yurei stretched. "Later."
---
Hiro climbed out of the jeep. His legs were stiff, his shoulders sore. But he was home.
Daisy's eyes swept over him. "You look like crap."
"Thanks."
"Seriously. Did you even sleep?"
"Not much."
"Idiot."
But she was smiling. Just a little.
Elira pushed off the wall. "The baths are ready. Hot water, clean towels. Go."
Hiro didn't need to be told twice.
---
Later Hiro sat on the steps of the main building, staring up at the clouds.
The base was quiet. Not the tense quiet of the Doghouse, but the comfortable quiet of home.
Footsteps approached.
Yurei sat down beside him. Close.
"Can't relax?" she asked.
"Too much thinking."
"About the Doghouse?"
"About everything." Hiro leaned back. "About Beatrice. About Scott. About what comes next."
Yurei was silent for a moment. "You did well there. Not just in the fight. With them. You made a difference."
"I just fought."
"You connected." Yurei's voice was soft. "That's harder. That's rarer."
Hiro looked at her. The starlight caught her profile, softening the hard lines of command.
"Thank you," he said. "For bringing me there. For trusting me."
"You earned it."
They sat in silence, watching the clouds.
Yurei's hand rested on the step between them. Hiro's hand rested beside hers.
Neither moved.
Neither needed to.
Inside, Marian stood at the window, watching them.
Daisy appeared beside her. "You're staring."
"I'm observing."
"You're staring."
Marian's cheeks flushed. "Shut up."
Daisy snorted. "You've got it bad."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure." Daisy turned to leave. "Just remember—she's the Captain. He's her slave. Don't make it weird."
Marian watched the window a moment longer.
Then she turned away.
But she was smiling.