I return to the house diminished. Wild wind blows through the sparse trees of the neighborhood like it did out in the forest. Silhouettes of bodies stand over me, baring their backs to the sky. I know that I am putting all of those people in danger, every day, by being out there. I remember the sensation of dizziness when today, Karen's electrokinesis didn't come to me, when I almost didn't come back out of a portal. Shiloh tries to steady me, I can practically feel his fur tickling my legs, but I don't want it. I feel sick deep in my stomach. The trees nod in agreement. The wind makes them clatter against each other.

There are no cars outside our house. Both my parents must be working late tonight. That's okay. It means I don't have to come up with an alibi.

Alarms wail in the distance. We weren't that close to the house, were we? I don't even remember where we were fighting tonight. Ignatius's vines at my neck? The panic of fighting in enclosed spaces against an army of unreal beings in the darkness of some closed-off trail on a steep incline? The weightlessness of having bird bones, made to own the air, made to break? I can remember all of that. I'm nothing but sensation now.

You're selfish.

I put my hands around the doorknob.

You're weak.

I push the door open.

Everyone on this city depends on you to keep this up, because when you had the chance, you couldn't kill one man to save the whole world.

Sure enough, the house is empty. Dinner is on the table... storebought sandwiches. I wish my mom was still trying, but I don't blame her for surrendering. She has a job, too, and worrying about all of us is extra weight. I wish my brother and dad would pick up my slack. I wish I could explain everything. I wish I wasn't so selfish, so weak, so small...

I can barely feel Shiloh in my head right now. I jerk back that probing hand from the darkness where I usually reach out for him. He shouldn't be here anyways. There's only one thing I need right now, and that's not emotional validation, it's a sandwich.

There's another one over to the right, lying out on its plate.

The wind echoes through the house, causing the foundations, windows, and everything attached to them to wail like they're possessed by a banshee. With a jolt, I realize that it's not the wind at all, and yet the sound continues, punctuated by choking gasps for air.

Adam Rosenbloom is crying.

I stare at my sandwich, trying to deduce if I'm having auditory hallucinations, but the sound continues regardless. My mind races to find the last time I heard him cry--for some reason, I can only recall a single event, when I was six, and he got hit in the face hard enough to draw blood while we were playing a game in the park.

My lips purse, softly, and I ascend the stairs. The room at the top, set across from our parents' room, isn't exactly ours anymore. It's almost a surprise he's there at all, now that he's moved most of his stuff to the basement. Why, Adam? What did I do wrong? What are you hiding for me? My fingers graze the Diosite as I stand outside the door, and I hesitate. It's not fear that overtakes me, but an old, dormant emotion, like a kinder pity. I think I'm scared for him, but I may also be scared that there's anything in the world capable of shaking Adam Rosenbloom.

Maybe he just hit his head on something.

No way. Those are not pain sobs.

I tap the door open, which whines imploringly, causing every muscle in my body to tense. Adam is lying across his bed in fetal position, turned away from me. As I stalk over, his eyes glare up at me, the same red color as the rest of his face. The pillows around him are soggy, coated in tears and snot. He's a messy crier.

"Will." Leave me alone, Will. Why are you here, Will?

I rehearse the one line in my head- I didn't mean to condescend to you. I just wanted to help, and if you need to talk now, I can do that. I just want to be part of your life again. I want you to care about me, even a little. "What's in your hand?"

Adam bristles up, hauling himself upwards. He's still Adam Rosenbloom, I guess, two inches taller than me, his hair a little less downy and wild, his expression more gaunt... whatever my genes were going for, perfected. Feels weird saying that when he looks the worst I think I've ever seen him. His voice harsh as ever, as if to remind me that nothing has changed, he says, "What's it to you?"

"I'm your brother."

"What does that mean, Will?" asks Adam. "That we were born together? Raised together? We're not the same person. We don't have to mean anything to each other."

"We do too," I say. "I mean-- if you don't want it to mean anything, maybe, when we're older, we talk a little less, but I want to believe that kinship means something. I know you. I care about you unconditionally, even if this last year has been tricky, and we've set a lot of distance... I guess what I'm trying to say is that you can... you can trust me?" I haven't been honest with him either.

His gaze is poisonous.

"And I should have talked to you a long time ago." I guess I'm going to have to be the bigger person. I've only been alone for a week or so, but already, the idea of having someone in here with me is impossible... why am I panicking? Worst case scenario, I show him my empty palm, he thinks I'm full of shit, and we continue not talking. Best case scenario, I take my own advice, and I'm not alone anymore. It makes sense, too. Sudden deaths. Golden eyes. His dark circles are twins to mine. A sense of cosmic irony, maybe. It would make sense if maybe Shiloh hadn't been honest with me. I sense Shiloh pull back with all his power, like how the ocean claims the water back after a crashing wave, but at the same time, I am the rising tide, the moon plucking up the seas. "Can I tell you something? Will you believe me?"

Adam doesn't say anything. That's affirmation, in his language.

From the pocket of my skinny jeans, I take out the moonstone, which trembles in my grip, cold as the void of space itself. I unfurl my fingers, exposing it, and he raises his own hand to show me a lustrous orange stone, speckled across the surface and cut two times across, jagged lines that run over the whole stone, intersecting.

"We were played," Adam declares.

"Adam," I whisper, synapses firing off in every direction. "Megan. All the times you weren't home. Everything."

Adam shakes his head very softly, as if I'm disappointing him, still. My heart sinks.

"Why didn't you--" I start.

"I thought I was protecting you." He's got cherub eyes. How did I never work this out? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I think I was afraid." My own eyes are moist now. I reach out to hug him. He's disconcertingly stiff, freezing cold where he's not burning up. It's like holding a ghost of a person.

"I fucked up, Will. I fucked up bad." Adam whispers.

"We can fix everything," I promise.

"No we can't," he says. "People are dead. Our dad's in on it, too."

"On our side?" I ask.

Adam stares at me like I'm stupid. "No."

"Why didn't you say anything--"

"Why didn't you?" asks Adam. He paces around me to grab his phone, any kind of tenderness already dissipated. He begins texting people. "You have a group, too? You should text them. We'll meet up in the Veins, now, and get answers."

"I don't exactly have a group," I say.

"Are they dead?"
Don't be so nonchalant about it. "N-no, they, uh... I took everyone's powers. For safekeeping. I guess I could contact them all, try to get the group back together?" I'm really flaunting my leadership abilities right now.

Adam's eyes freeze up again, returning to that chill, brutal stare I've come to expect from him. It's not that of a brooding teenager anymore- it's a leader, fighting an uphill battle, and it is a leader who has lost men. "You're going to have to. If you've been through half of what I have, they're everything to you... and if I had to guess, you're not doing that well without them. I doubt they're holding out well without the Diosite, either." He looks towards a darkness in the wall I was certain for so long he had no way of seeing and passes through it. Why is he so fast? So certain? I'll need to follow him, hit up Shiloh, and then aggress the rest of the group from there.

For now, at least, I can at least give them a warning. More of us out there. Everything has changed. We need to get back together.

Great. I don't know why I even expect responses. If anything, all I deserve is their scorn, and Adam doesn't know that yet, but he's about to, and when he does, he'll be worse than anyone else. I hold my phone to my heart, saying a little prayer for myself, and it buzzes against my chest. Karen's in. Amanda gives me a little frowny face. Garrett just says "what" but tonight, we're taking it. Get ready to hit the Veins.

I don't even know how long I have. Ignatius usually sends me through a few runs a night, so any second now, he should be back on me. This is the second where everything folds together or falls apart. Stay strong, I tell myself, because no one else is there to tell me otherwise, not even Shiloh. I don't believe it. I want to feel relief, but all I have in me right now is the empty-house Diosite-induced-nightmare kind of fear.

The void beckons like it did on that first night.

On the other side, a stranger stands in full regalia, decked out like a prince. I recognize him as a soldier. Is this everything my brother wanted to be, or everything he had to be to survive? "It's me, Will," I offer.

"Adam. Call me Chief. What is that?" All four Diosite and I still look underwhelming in comparison to him. My sword and his shield match up. I'm the moon, he's the sun. He has cherub streaks built into the mask, too. My rogue's outfit is more ornate than his metal plating, primarily because I have Karen's furze, Amanda's ribbons, and some extra glowing tubes from Garrett, but it doesn't make me look impressive, it makes me look messy. "Never mind, forget it. Are they coming?"

"Of course they are," I say. "They're my team."
They were there for me when no one else was, I don't say. Including you.

"I'll get them," I promise, instead. I disappear back into the darkness.

The world shifts on its axis, and yet here I am. The only thing that changes is that I'm running towards instead of running away, and that will have to be enough.