September 9th, 220, somewhere south of Ronda, Lübeck

"A-are y-you sure you'll be fine alone?" Rami asks, ruffling his shaggy hair, "it's quite a little ways away, and it’s still snowing quite a bit, t-too." With a grimacing smile, I rest a hand on his bony shoulder.

"Yes, I am certain, Rami," I respond warmly "you don't have to stress yourself with needless worry," I turn to point over the horizon, where the head of a tree stands out against the baby-blue sky and pure-white landscape, "Simon is such a worrywart so don't let it rub off on you. In any case, it never hurts for a little exercise here and there—something that I think everyone needs once in a while." Rami still appears reluctant: his hands drum the car wheel.

"I-I know t-that... so what do you want me to do, then? Stay here and wait for you? Making it there is one thing, coming back if the snow picks up is another—"

"Rami," I interrupt, leaning on his window with a glowing smile, "you may do whatever you want. If you want to stay here where it's cold, you may do so. But if you want my suggestion, you should head back to Ronda, and I will return by foot," I reach inward to rest my hand on his shoulder, "if Brutus and Olga give you any fuss, I will tell them myself this is what I wanted."

Rami sighs and tightens his grip on the wheel, "o-okay, if you say so—I'll head to Ronda and wait with the others." I take a few steps back as the car crackles to life, then Rami pulls back and drives away to the settlement. As Rami's car disappears amid the light snowy weather, I head the other way into the endless white plains.

I walk past the occasional tree and shrubbery. Everywhere, no matter where I look is layer upon layer of snow. Every crunch and stomp leaves behind a printing about ankle deep. Snowflakes land on my hair and poncho, but thanks to the materials of Simon's cloak—of what Brutus called my security blanket—I am kept warm and cozy. My ears numb only a little, and the bits of snow tickles my scar tissue.

All things considered, it's a nice atmosphere. I would go as far as to say it's nothing compared to the snowy mountainous area I live in. I think back then, if I had scouted out L übeck sooner I would not have minded living here. Of course, there is nothing particularly stopping me from migrating here—or at least visiting here with Isabella and the others. It would be a good way to teach them about there being a world beyond Brunsb üttel.

Of course, only within Toscana all things considered. But I still want to believe one day in the far future, we can travel around the galaxy in peace. Together—hopefully, but even if I am unable to be by her side for whatever reason I want her to be happy no matter what. Yes, I am sure Isabella would be overjoyed going out into space. Even taking Isabella down here to see this beautiful snow—and I am sure even L übeck is an even more appealing sight in its summer. All she has known is one big unforgiving slum, forgotten and uncared by others. Maybe it truly is fate that she stumbled into my life, a chance for us to create not sad memories—but heartfelt ones.

I stop, snow crunching from behind me—far more than just one. Instinctively, I reach for my hip pistol, brandishing it half-way and reel around as fast as I can—

But it is unfounded worriedness. I exhale a breath held in, drawing out a cloudy breath that saturates my vision. It is merely a herd of those flightless birds I’ve heard of here and there. It is a rather small-sized one; squinting through their flock I can make out about twenty or so. Most are brownish-black coated heavily by the snowy downfall, but creamy-white ones with polka-dotted designs are scattered about. Their fat bodies are supported by thin legs and slenderly long necks—they remind of delicate swans I’ve seen in Brunsbuttel, but far larger and with unkempt fur.

“My, giving me quite the scare, aren’t you?” I remark warmly, sliding the pistol into its strap. The wall of beady orange eyes stares me down silently. I’m surprised I didn’t hear them earlier given their numbers. But just what was I expecting, exactly? The image of the Löyly intruder flashes before my mind—but I block it out without hesitation.

Respect me, and I will respect you. If you cannot do that I can't guarantee what will happen then. Kamon’s voice echoes unsettlingly in my mind as if she stands by me whispering it into my ear. No more paranoia, I’ve had far too much of it.

One of the emus’ lets out a low-drumming… purr of a sort. I look up to see one of the smaller ones trot towards me. It swings its neck around frantically for a second and looks at me sideways as it gets closer before stopping in front of me. The emu flips its head the other side—again with the neck swinging and curiously the beast cranes its neck closer to me. It did seem smaller afar, but being this close to the bird—which now stands roughly upright—seems to be slightly taller than me.

“Not afraid of humans, aren’t you?” I ask wryly. There is, of course, no response from the strange flightless bird. “Much less afraid of me no less, even though I am regarded as no more an animal than you.” The emu opens its beak and lets out a low, gruff drumming growl. The large bird extends its head onto my right hand—nestling it. I rub its fuzzy, warm coat and give it a good, heartfelt pat on the head. The emu responds with another of its gruff purring. For some reason, I can’t help but smile—evoking sharp pain as a result. To my surprise, the emu reaches forward and lightly caresses my scar with its beak.

“A little too friendly with humans, aren’t you? I suppose… I am to take that as an objection,” I say warmly, rubbing the emu’s hairy neck, “it would be nice to be treated as an equal with others, not as a predator or a monster… to make friends normally as anyone else, and not because of out of fear of what I’ve done.” The emu responds with low-pitched thumps. If Simon and the others were here, I have no doubt they would say I’ve gone mad by conversing with animals. “Though I do believe we have a few things in common,” I continue, “is that we were both robbed of our homes many years ago… and in some way or another found a new one to call home, with a family accepting you as your own. And even though you are flightless, you are still carefree—and in a way,” I smile again while bearing the sharp pain “I am too.”

A round of deep-rolling grunts and thumping growls from the emu’s friends. The big flightless bird pulls itself away and dashes around me to rejoin its flock as the herd begins to scurry away. The emu comes to a halt and whips its body around to glance back at me. I extend an arm out to wave, and likewise, the emu throws its body weight around and emits a drumming growl. “So long, mister emu,” I say, to a higher-pitched purring. The emu does its typical bizarre swinging of body weight and jolts around to join its brethren.

I continue towards my destination until I find myself climbing a steeper hill where the tree looms over. Upon reaching the top, I am greeted by a field of makeshift wooden crosses. At the center of it all is the large, lonely tree casting a shadow over the graveyard. I take in the moment, before walking slowly through the hasty lines of marked graves. Each one I pass by has names and inscriptions carved in them. Occasionally, beds of flowers ranging from purple to red peek out from under the eroding snow.

I stop in front of two relatively closer to each other than most; one slants slightly onto the other, likely because of the weight of snow. At their base is a relatively stunning bed of yellow and lush-red flowers. I step forward, brushing off some snow that covered the inscriptions.

JUNG LEE THE LEGENDARY WULF, A LOVING HUSBAND AND FRIEND FRAU MOSKVINA-LEE A LOVING AND CARING WIFE AND A GOOD FRIEND

I rest my hands on both crosses, taking a deep breath that produces a mist upon sighing. “Jung, I’m sorry for taking so long to visit you,” I say, leaning over his gravestone, “I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I think it worried me that I wouldn’t have the courage to stand over your grave… it wouldn’t be right. But I felt it is better to pay a visit now rather than never. I kept telling myself that I would come to regret it if I didn’t come at all.

“If it was me that died, would you have visited me right away? If it was Simon or Richter… or even Miss Jean, or the Jargon fellow?” I take a step back scanning the snowy graveyard, biting down on my lower lip, “I wish I could have put together more materials for a proper graveyard, Jung. It’s too… humble, it seems disgraceful, doesn’t it?” Of course, there is no answer—not even a howl of the wind or a breeze through the tree’s branches. Merely silence, and the gentle snowfall.

“But perhaps it is better this way,” I answer, “perhaps it is best to keep it modest,” a mild scoff. “I can imagine you ragging on about living and resting in simplicity, Jung.” A slight grin as I step forward his and Frau’s graves, and glance up at the snow-blue sky, “I imagine the others would want that too, wouldn’t they?” Of course, it’s a question that only the dead could answer. I look down at the graves and take another step closer. With another huff of visible breath, I pat myself on the chest in the typical Mafia salute.

“Jung Lee, I’ve decided to come out here not only to bid my farewell and pay my respects but to make a promise of my own to you. No matter what it takes, I will preserve the Toscana Mafia,” my fist tightens, “I may have failed in having you live to see the fruits of your accomplishments, but I will not make the same mistake twice… I will not let your contributions and sacrifices be in vain.

“Jung, Emmanuel, Julius, Maximilian… I will live for all your sakes and I will fight until there is nothing left for me to fight with. And I will fight until the end of time if I have to. I will protect the present and the future, after all, it’s all that I have left… it’s all that we, the survivors are entrusted with. So please,” with a misty sigh, I take a step back, scanning Jung and Frau’s and all the other gravestones in the vicinity, “I wish for you all to rest in peace. You have all fought for my sake, but from now on I will fight on behalf of yours.”

With one last pounding of my chest, I glance around the graveyard. The blooming of the flowers is more apparent now, and it almost seems like the graveyard isn’t as dull anymore. “If only you were here to see this, everyone,” I say softly, “nature is a beauty in its own right… there would be no need for elaborate tombstones, is there?” I smile weakly, minding the stinging pain. “Well… everyone, Jung, Julius… I suppose this is a… goodbye, I…” I clear my throat, brushing some hair out of my eyes, “I’ve talked quite a bit, haven’t I? I told myself I would remain optimistic, but the longer I stay here I feel I might break down any moment now,” I clear my throat again, reaching to wipe my eyes with my sleeve.

“I’ll always have everyone in my heart and mind, and… I…,” another timid clearing of my throat, ”I promise I’ll stop by to visit every now and then… the next time I stop by, I’ll introduce you all to Isabella. She’s wonderful, if a stubborn child at times,” I remark. A heavy sigh, then a smile.

“I think I said everything I’ve had pent up over the past month or so. Goodbyes are not my forte… but I must be making the others in town nervous by now, so I will be taking my leave, everyone.” I turn around, taking a deep breath as I slowly head down the sloped hill onto even ground, then follow the path from which I came. I stop to glance back before continuing onward.

As I make my way back, I feel in a greater mood than before. Only positivity weighs in my mind. A better outlook for the future. For the first time in forever, I truly do feel happy. Not an ounce of regret or remorse remains—no longer will I dwell in such matters or paranoia.

And why would I? I have nothing to be afraid of now. The future may still very well be uncertain—but I believe, wholeheartedly everything will work out for the best. There may be hard times ahead, but I will overcome them not by myself but with everyone else. And that’s what truly prevails in the end—hardships are best dealt with together, not saddled alone. What matters most is what I have now, and that’s my newfound family and friends.

And I’m sure one day, I will make a friend that means a lot to me. The one person who pulled me out of my wretched ways. One day, I will again meet that individual who challenged my lack of humanity. She may not know it, but she has saved me, and it is my singlemost regret that I could not spend more time with her. Nonetheless, I have met her and that is what matters in the end. I pray that Julius’s bandanna will one day find its way back to me—and with that bandanna the warm, soft hands of Victoria.

That day may never truly come … but I can still hope. And there is no greater feeling for a person to have, but hope. Despite what may come, I will hold out for the possibility of seeing her face again, and ultimately putting aside our differences to befriend each other. So long as I live, I will not let that goodbye go to waste. I will not let our parting of ways become a farewell. And I will hope that once Victoria has the bandanna, she will come to the same determination, too.

I stop trotting through the snow. I gaze up at the oceanic skies, extending an arm out at the eternal snow.

“Victoria… please stay safe,” I say softly, “please live… so that I may see you again.”