Dixon came to with the mother of all headaches and an even worse ache in his chest. Damn it, had he cracked his ribs? That’d just be perfect.

The ringing in his ears abruptly solidified into something a bit more intelligible, and he looked over with a pained groan to Gray Hawk looming over him. “Dixon!”

Dixon grimaced. “Right here. Please don’t shout.”

Gray Hawk let out a relieved moan and leaned down to squeeze him. “Don’t do that to me!” Gray Hawk barked. “You weren’t responding.”

Dixon groaned again, but couldn’t quite keep his heart from racing. “Not like I had much of a choice.” He sat up and stretched, grimacing as it seemed like every single individual vertebra in his spine popped. “Where is—” Dixon jerked into motion when he looked around and realized he couldn’t see any of the kids.

Gray Hawk followed him. “Centauri’s up there with most of the prisoners.” He pointed vaguely upwards, and Dixon followed his line of sight. It looked like they’d fallen at least a couple floors, and that did make it impressive he could still walk.

Dixon could just barely see the top of Centauri and Wilkes’ heads poking over the ledge. How they’d managed to reach the other side in time, he had no idea, but he was grateful for it. Dixon waved to them, and they waved back. But that left—

“Where’s Needles?” Dixon asked in horror.

Gray Hawk froze, and mouthed a silent curse. They both scrambled to look for their missing healer. “Needles!” Dixon called, echoed by Gray Hawk a few seconds later.

They found one of the prisoners, lying on his side. Dixon leaned down, lying his head on the guy’s chest. Thump… thump… thump…

Gray Hawk looked over at him from the other side of the ledge they were on, and Dixon held up a thumbs up. At Gray Hawk’s nod, Dixon stood and started searching around again. “Needles!”

He almost tripped over a broken piece of catwalk, easily the size of a Benefactor transport, and just as heavy, judging by how it didn’t even budge when he knelt down to lift it.

“Gray Hawk!” he called. “Over here!”

Gray Hawk hurried over and took the other side, and together, they managed to raise it up just enough to shove it to the side.

Underneath was not their missing healer, but one of the prisoners. The gray jumpsuit did nothing to hide the bloodstains where her leg had snapped and the bone poked through the skin. Gray Hawk leaned down, pressing his head to the woman’s chest. After a moment, he shook his head.

Dixon swallowed thickly and turned away. Needles. They had to find Needles.

A muffled groan made Dixon and Gray Hawk both perk up, and they followed the source of the sound to another, slightly smaller chunk of fallen catwalk, a few feet away.

This one was lighter, and easier to move, but they still had to work together to lift it off the trapped figure. And once they had tossed it aside, Dixon saw Needles’ still form.

No blood or obviously distorted limbs, at least. Dixon dropped to his knees and set his head on Needles’ chest. To his relief, he heard a steady heartbeat. Thump… thump… thump…

“Needles,” Gray Hawk said, patting him on the shoulder and eventually moving to shaking him. “Needles!”

Needles mumbled, but didn’t wake up.

Bad sign. That was a bad sign, right?

Dixon swore and stood, looking up to Centauri and Wilkes still peering over the ledge. “Is everyone else with you?”

“Most of them!” Centauri called back.

A shout from up there made Centauri and Wilkes both jump back, and Dixon swore again. If it was a mutie—if they hurt any of his kids—

“Dixon!” Gray Hawk shouted. “We need to get back up there!”

“I know!” Dixon snapped back. “Do you see a—”

He was cut off by the roar of the ship’s engines as it levitated into view. Dixon stood up and waved his arms wildly, trying to flag it down. At first, nothing happened, and he worried Glory hadn’t seen him. But… how couldn’t she? He was right there!

But, thankfully, after a moment, the ship lowered just enough to open the hatch and lower the ramp. Glory’s two friends poked their heads out, and Dixon pointed to the motionless prisoner on the ground. “You two, grab him!”

They thankfully didn’t hesitated and jogged down to meet him. The man leaned down to loop his arms over the prisoner’s chest while the woman took his legs. Together, they struggled him up the ramp and into the ship.

Dixon wanted to drag Needles up there, too, but he wasn’t a doctor, and he ran the risk of doing more harm than good. Dixon and Gray Hawk stared at each other for a moment, before Dixon turned and charged up the ramp.

If anyone had a chance of knowing what the hell to do with Needles, it was Glory.

“Glory!” he called, thumping into the ship and then into the cockpit, finding her standing at the control panel, the screen in front of her a mess of static and what looked like rough alien symbols. How she could make any sense out of it, he had no idea.

Except, he realized she wasn’t standing. If anything, she was listing heavily to one side and holding herself up with the control panel. Odd, but he paid little attention as he shouted, “We need your help.”

“No time,” she spat back. “We need to move. There’s at least a dozen more mutants on the upper levels we need to deal with.”

“Wh—Deal with?” Dixon stormed forward, and nearly tripped over something on the floor. Looking down, he jumped at what he saw.

An alien figure; long-dead, and long-mummified. It vaguely reminded Dixon of a picture of a crab he’d seen once, in a half-destroyed old world advertisement. Except, it was even bigger than he was.

“What the hell?” he heard himself muttering. “Is that a Benefactor?”

She didn’t answer.

Dixon stepped around the pit the mummy was stuffed inside, and approached Glory at the control panel. “Glory?” he asked. “Is that a Benefactor?”

“How should I know?” she asked. “Between the two of us, you’re the one with experience of the citadels.”

And, ouch. But she wasn’t exactly wrong. Still, as far as he knew, not even the highest-ranked citizens of Reza had ever seen a Benefactor in person before.

Shaking his head, he returned to the topic at hand. “Glory, listen to me. You’ve killed most of the muties. We just need to round up the prisoners and get out of here.”

“We can’t risk this facility falling into mutant hands again,” she said. Her voice was different—it always sounded a little more still and emotionless than most people, but never this bad.

Dixon reached out to touch her shoulder. “What’s with you?”

She violently shrugged off his grip and whirled around to glare at him. “Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, voice laced with static.

Dixon jumped, and raised his hands. “Okay, okay! I won’t touch you. But… what’s up with you? You’re acting wrong.”

“Wrong?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. Now that was more like Glory, but it still wasn’t exactly her.

“Yes, you’re acting wrong!” he said. “Listen, Needles is hurt, and Gray Hawk and I don’t know how bad. I need you to work your machine magic…” He realized abruptly she wasn’t paying any attention to him. “Glory. Glory!”

She juddered, but didn’t respond, instead turning back around to face the control panel.

Now that wasn’t right. If anything, the mere mention of Needles should’ve been enough to snap her out of whatever she’d fallen into.

“Glory!” He grabbed her shoulder again, this time holding on as she recoiled and whirled around.

Slender fingers wrapped around his throat with the strength of a dozen grown men, and she flipped him over the nearest control panel. He could feel the crystals crunching under his weight, and the ship’s lights flickered, but Glory didn’t seem to care, even as his legs kicked.

“You will not touch me,” she snarled. “I am not beholden to your whims.”

“Behol—Glory,” Dixon choked. “I’m just trying to get everyone out alive.”

She jerked her head to one side again. Violently. Like she was possessed. He remembered Pa’s old stories about exorcisms and their patients, how they’d twist their heads around and walk on the ceiling. Little Dixon had dismissed it as scaremongering—be good or a demon’ll get ya and we’ll have to get an exorcist, and good luck finding one of those in the badlands. Priests aren’t exactly a common sight in Americana.

“Glory,” he tried again, “Needles is hurt. Needles. You remember Needles?”

She jerked at the name, and hesitated for a split second.

“He was stuck under a piece of the collapsed catwalk,” he continued. “I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, but he’s not waking up. We need you. Not sure what else we can do.”

Her grip on his throat loosened ever so slightly, and Dixon pressed.

“What’s wrong, Glory?”

“It—I—” She swallowed heavily. “The Singularity.”

“The what, now?” Dixon asked.

She shook her head wildly. “The ship’s intelligence. I connected with it to see if I could understand the ship. I thought we could work together, but I think…” She shuddered, and let go of Dixon entirely to press her hands to her temples instead. Shaking like she was nursing a monster of a headache, she stood and staggered towards the hatch. “Needles…” she mumbled.

“Glory?” Dixon asked carefully.

“Needles…”

Dixon followed her. The last thing they needed was her teetering off the ramp on her way down, after all.

Glory lurched her way unevenly down the stairs, and nearly bumped into Gray Hawk, who looked confused but easily stepped aside to let her get to Needles.

As soon as she saw him, she raced towards him and dropped onto her knees beside him. She checked his pulse, his breathing, then reached for his hand.

Needles jerked and sputtered, gasping for breath and looking around with wide, bewildered eyes.

Dixon groaned. “Of course, now he wakes up!”

Needles groaned and sat up slightly, looking to his right. “Glory?”

“You scared them,” she said.

Dixon snorted. Like she was fooling anyone.

He groaned. “I’m okay, I think.” Using Glory as a convenient crutch, he got to his feet, only to stumble with a pained yelp. Glory grabbed him before he could fall, though. He glared at his feet. “Twisted ankle, I think.”

“That’s fine,” Glory murmured. She leaned down.

He jumped. “What are you doing?”

Rather than respond verbally, Glory swept him up into an effortless bridal carry. He squeaked, legs flailing momentarily, before he settled. Cheeks pink, he muttered, “Warn a man.”

He and Gray Hawk followed Glory back inside the ship, where the hatch shut behind them. In the cockpit, a weird, chair-like structure swung down from the ceiling, startling Dixon… and Glory as well, apparently, judging by the way she jumped.

She set Needles in the seat, and turned back to the control panel. “Hold onto something,” she called, and the ship lurched high into the air. Swinging around to face the direction where Wilkes and Centauri had herded most of the prisoners back together, she fired on a group of mutants running at them from the left.

The hatch opened and the ramp lowered. Dixon and Gray Hawk hurried to the hatch, meeting Wilkes and Centauri at the end.

“Where’s Needles?” Centauri called.

“Inside! Twisted ankle, he’s fine.”

The kid let out a relieved breath, and Dixon then noticed what he was holding in his hands; a set of folded clothes, some belts, and…

And a familiar handgun.

“We found Glory’s things,” he called, holding it out to Dixon, who accepted it. “We’ll stick with the prisoners, if Glory can escort us out.”

Dixon nodded, and turned to set the folded clothing on the nearest flat surface inside the ship.

Glory’s two friends, the man and woman, appeared in the arch separating the hatchway from the cockpit. They hesitated for a moment before the man asked, “Room for two more?”

“Of course.”

They jogged down the ramp and jumped to safety, running to greet the rest of the prisoners. A few members of Catherine’s group broke away to greet them with joyful hugs.

Dixon and Gray Hawk followed, jumping down from the ramp and landing in front of Centauri and Wilkes. “We’ll stick with you,” Gray Hawk said.

“What about Glory?”

“Needles can keep her in line,” Gray Hawk said.

Dixon almost snorted. The idea of anyone keeping Glory in line was almost laughable, but… he had a point. If anyone could nudge her in the direction they wanted, it was Needles.

Dixon readied his rifle and nodded forward. “Lead the way.”

***

Dixon wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or nervous when they didn’t run into any muties on their way back to the top floor. Either they really had killed them all (which seemed a little too good to be true) or they’d decided to cut their losses and get outta there. Maybe Glory touring around in their precious ship convinced them to try another tactic.

It didn’t matter. What did matter, though, was that every little sound, from the prisoners’ unsteady breathing to his own heartbeat in his ears, had him quite literally jumping at shadows.

They stepped into the last of of the several large lobbies that punctuated the path back to the elevator, and Dixon glanced around. Everything appeared to be in order. He could hear the even humming of the ship’s engines out in the atrium, and a few loud crashes and bangs from deeper inside the facility. More caved-in tunnels, more collapsed labs…

More of the old world buried under tons of rock and dirt. Something wistful prodded at Dixon’s thoughts, but he did his best to ignore it. Not like he could do much about it now, could he?

Up the final set of stairs to the admin office with the elevator. Those same bloody wall scribbles were still there, but they looked faded. Scrubbed, like someone had tried and failed to wash them away.

“All right, everyone, line up!” Dixon called, nodding towards the transparent tube. “That’s an elevator. Obviously, there’s only enough room for a few people at a time. I’m guessing six. We’ll get all y’all off, then we’ll head up, too.”

“What’s up there?” one of the prisoners asked.

“Some old mine tunnels. Nothing exciting.”

“Will there be mutants?” Mason Davis asked.

Dixon frowned. Well, there had been when they’d arrived.

“Fine,” he said. “One of us’ll head up with the first group, just in case. Happy?”

They didn’t look happy, exactly, but it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

Gray Hawk, Centauri, and Wilkes crowded around, and Dixon turned to them. “Any volunteers?”

Centauri stuck his hand up immediately, but Gray Hawk reached over to tug it down with a stern shake of the head. “I’ll do it,” the older man offered.

“But—”

Wilkes raised their hand.

Dixon knew Wilkes. Sorta. He at least knew that they were competent in a fight. If it came to that, he was pretty confident in their ability to handle the situation.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

They nodded.

Dixon gestured to the elevator. “Alrighty, then. Gray Hawk or I can come up next. You’ll have some company.”

They turned to march towards the tube, just as the elevator began descending into place. Before Dixon could follow, Gray Hawk grabbed his elbow. “You’re sure? About Wilkes?”

“About them?” He snorted. “I don’t even know who they are. But about their abilities? Hell yes.”

“Let me go instead,” Gray Hawk implored.

Dixon shot a glance behind them, towards the stairs. “I’d rather have you here, just in case someone manages to slip by Glory. More rifles can never be a bad thing.”

And Wilkes used revolvers. Damn good revolvers, wielded by a damn good gunman, but they’d never be as good at range as rifles were.

Gray Hawk sighed softly and released Dixon’s arm. “All right.”

The elevator split open, and Wilkes turned to the prisoners, nudging the first five onboard. All women, Dixon noted. Wilkes boarded last and turned around to face them as the elevator sealed shut with a hiss. As it began its ascent, they gave a little salute.

Dixon returned it, but he wasn’t sure if they saw before the elevator disappeared into the ceiling.

Now they all just had to wait.

***

Ferrying a couple hundred people out of the facility six-at-a-time took ages, but by the time it was over, Dixon was more than ready to just get the hell out. A pang of regret echoed through him when he thought of all the advanced old world technology they were leaving behind—the hydroponic garden alone could’ve kept Black Sun fed for years!

But, well… it wasn’t like he could bring the garden with them.

They’d rescued almost three hundred prisoners, but that felt like far too small a number. Three hundred had been the population of Sanctum Mesa alone.

That damn meat locker…

He was startled out of his brooding when the elevator came down for a final time, swinging open. Centauri strode inside and turned to face him.

Slowly, Dixon joined him, something sour settling in the pit of his stomach.

The doors hissed shut, and the elevator began to rise. Dixon tried not to fidget as the light inside the elevator vacillated between so dark he couldn’t see two inches in front of him and so bright he had to squint. He could feel Centauri’s eyes on him, as they waited.

“Hey…” the kid began, “you know it’s not your fault, right?”

Dixon sighed. “I know that, kid. But knowing it doesn’t help.”

Centauri hung his head. “Yeah, I get that.” After a moment, he cocked his head to one side. “I wonder what Glory and Needles are up to.”

Dixon groaned. “I don’t want to know.”

***

“What are you doing?” Needles asked from his place on the jump seat.

Glory gritted her teeth as the ship jerked around to begin its scan anew. “Searching for anyone we missed. Dixon would never forgive us if we left anyone down here.”

Pointless. Inevitable. Inescapable.

The now-painfully familiar sensation of the Singularity sending ‘suggestions’ her way made her grit her teeth. To think the damn thing had managed to force her to attack Dixon. All things considered, he’d taken it rather well.

For you, maybe, Glory thought back viciously. But when the Singularity withdrew, rather than joy or smug superiority, Glory just felt tired. Empty, in a way.

She didn’t like it.

A hand on top of hers made her jump, and she turned to face Needles, leaning forward with concern in his eyes.

“You should lie back,” she scolded gently.

He ignored her. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep twitching and fidgeting.”

Of course he’d noticed. The bastard. The only one who knew her better was Father, and she’d never go back to him.

Glory sighed deeply, slumping over the control panel. Tentatively, she reached out for the Singularity, and had to hold back a yelp when they flooded back, like a monstrous tide threatening to pull her under.

“This ship is… alive,” she said. Wincing, she corrected, “No, not the ship itself. It’s… inhabited by a sort of…”

“Artificial intelligence?” Needles asked.

Glory nodded.

“What’s its name?”

Glory scoffed. “It doesn’t have one. I call it the Singularity, because—” She hesitated. The explanation sounded bizarre, even to her. But, if anyone was going to listen to her without judgment, it was Needles. So she started again. “In the old world, before the internet fractured, there was the concept of the technological singularity—a sort of technological explosion, where technology and synthetic life begins evolving and augmenting itself until it becomes truly incomprehensible to human thought. And I…”

She hesitated. This pained her to admit, but if she could say it to anyone, it would be Needles. “I thought I was above humanity,” she said. “Then I touched the Singularity. And this… being. This intelligence… it only controls one ship. One lonely ship out of thousands, and if it’s this intelligent…” She shook her head. “What else are they capable of? How do I become…”

“Become a singularity?” he asked.

It wasn’t exactly what she meant, but it was close enough. She nodded.

She heard a groan behind her, followed by a few thumps. Whirling to face him, she snapped, “What are you doing? Stay down!”

He ignored her, limping over to her side. “I don’t know what this Singularity is actually like. All I see is… incomprehensible.” He gazed around them with wonder-filled icy blue perceptions. “And yet, you understand it.”

Glory scoffed. “Barely.” She shook her head, glaring at the control panel. “Maybe Father was right. Maybe I’m not—”

“Stop it,” Needles snapped.

Glory gritted her teeth at the interruption, but was quickly distracted by a sudden flood of red figures on the view screen. Raiders. “Hold on,” she said, and the ship’s gun charged up.

It fired, and blasted a hole through the wall and through the mutants one and a half meters in diameter. They barely had time to scream.

When it was over and they returned to their search, she glanced over at Needles and found him gazing at her in a sort of confused admiration. “What?” she asked defensively.

“How did you know they were there?”

Her brows furrowed, and she nodded towards the view screen. He followed her line of sight, but the look of confusion on his face didn’t lessen any. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s just… static, with a few little alien symbols mixed in.” He looked to her, brows furrowed. “What do you see?”

Glory had no idea what to say to that. “It’s… It’s a sort of sonar-based scanner. It sees through walls and identifies whether people are armed or not. The red figures are armed, the blue figures are unarmed.”

Needles hummed. “See, I didn’t see any figures. Red or blue.”

Glory scoffed again. “Of course not, the facility’s empty. Or, well, mostly empty.”

“No, I mean, even when you were shooting.”

“But…” Glory shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How would I…”

Static, and an alien language you had no hope of understanding. It had seemed unusually convenient that the Singularity had started speaking to her only after they synced, and seemed to show no interest in speaking to Mona or Herman. In fact, neither of them had ever even tried to take control of the ship. Had that been respect for her leadership, or merely them not knowing what was going on?

Glory shut her eyes.

>> Engage Diagnostic

//Diagnostic engaging…

// Physical damage negligible

ALERT// unsecured data transfer identified

ALERT// possible malware identified

- Diagnostic completed. Upload to mainframe Y/N

>>N

ALERT// Recommend return to Dr. Matthias Janssen for malware resolution

>> Assess unsecured data transfer

//Assessing…

- Language pack identified: Error

- Technological training identified: Error

- Stellar charts pack identified: Error

- Advanced tactics training identified: Error

- Unspecified data download identified: Error

- Assessment complete. Purge data Y/N

>>N

Glory’s eyes flickered open, and she looked to Needles. “It… It auto-uploaded a data file to my systems. I didn’t even notice…” She shook her head. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

“What kind of data?”

“Language, technology, and some other things…” She hesitated. “I had the choice of purging the data from my banks, but… I didn’t.”

“If it’s all tyrant data,” Needles said carefully, “Benefactor data, then you might be able to use it.”

“Use it?” she asked. “For what?”

“To fight back,” he said, as if it were obvious.

In a way, maybe it was.

Glory sighed, and finished her last-minute search. The facility seemed completely empty. Whether all the mutants were dead, or had merely managed to escape, she had no way of knowing. But, at least they weren’t leaving any prisoners behind.

“Hold on,” Glory said. “This’ll probably be a rough trip.”

The ship pointed sharply upward, and the weapons began charging. The first few shots failed, but when it finally succeeded it blew a sizable hole in the facility ceiling, revealing the mountain just beyond.

Needles yelped as the ship jolted, and tightened his grip around Glory’s waist. Glory released one hand from the control panel to lay on top of his. The other she used to brace them both, as they created their own way out of the mountain.

***

Dixon stepped off the elevator onto the surface with a worried knot in his stomach. Thankfully, the sight of Gray Hawk and Wilkes looming over the still forms of a few raiders set him at ease—or, at least, marginally at ease. Almost as soon as he was back on solid ground, he stripped out of the damn flesh-robes and tossed the leathery bundle aside with a grimace. The rest of his companions glanced over at him, then followed suit.

“What happened?” he asked.

Gray Hawk, tugging his robes up over his head, grimaced and nodded to the largest of the two either dead or dying mutants. “They snuck up on us. Tried to take us by surprise. Fortunately, we had some help.”

“Help?” Centauri asked.

Gray Hawk stood and turned, nudging his way through the overjoyed throngs of former prisoners. They still wore the damn ugly jumpsuits, but damn it, they were free.

At the edge, peering out into the desert, Dixon had to grimace at the painfully bright sunrise. Still, Gray Hawk pointed somewhere outside, and Dixon did his best to follow the older man’s finger, his squinted gaze eventually landing on the eerily familiar glint of a scope off in the distance.

“Friendly?” Dixon asked.

Gray Hawk grunted. “I’d assume so. They haven’t shot at us.”

“Yet.” Dixon hoped, but he couldn’t quite suppress the uncomfortable knot in his stomach. “Good thing we ditched the robes.”

Gray Hawk hummed in agreement.

The glinting got closer, until it materialized into a group of human figures striding across the sand, most of their bodies shielded from the searing sun. Only when the leader got close enough for Dixon to see their face did he relax.

Gray Hawk perked up beside him. “Zora!”

She and her people broke into a jog until they made it to the mines. Stepping inside, Zora tugged down her hood with a smile. “You made it!”

The rest of her group stepped inside as well—all Navajo, and all armed to the teeth and looking like they were ready to step into a war zone. They looked thoroughly confused when they saw the prisoners, though.

“You missed the action,” Dixon said by way of explanation. “We made it out.”

“It’s good to see you,” Gray Hawk added softly.

“What… what happened?” she asked.

“Gray Hawk groaned and shook his head. “Long, long story.”

She eyed the prisoners with a raised eyebrow. “I can see that.”

Centauri hurried to her side and threw his arms around her in a side-hug, which she returned easily enough. She then reached over to ruffle his hair, earning an annoyed growl from the kid.

“What happened in Rustpike?” Dixon asked. “With Stands-on-Stone and all them?”

Zora sighed with a scowl. “It’s… complicated.” She turned to Gray Hawk. “Officially, you’re banned from the Nation. Unofficially, it probably won’t stick, but for now, Rampaging Bull and his people are ready to shoot to kill.”

“Christ,” Dixon swore. “Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?”

Gray Hawk’s lips thinned. “Not if it’s for the good of the village, or the nation. And if Stands-on-Stone has convinced them that we’re a threat…”

Zora frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well, good riddance,” Centauri snarled. “I was sick of them, anyway.”

Zora looked around with an awkward frown. “So… where’s your cannibal friend? And the woman?”

“They’re—”

The ground started shaking, and the prisoners and Navajo alike let out alarmed shouts as they scrambled back. It was worse than when the elevator rose for the first time; the entire mountain felt like it was about to collapse on top of them.

“Get back!” Dixon shouted, and they all started sprinting out. A few, including Dixon, let out pained shouts as they ran into the sunlight, but it was better than being crushed.

Dixon was just grateful that the cave mouths were wide enough to let them pass. The last thing they needed was a bottleneck.

The mountain continued its shaking, until the now-familiar sound of the ship’s guns faded into focus.

“What is that?” Zora asked.

Dixon grinned a little to himself. “A surprise.”

The pale blue plasma seared up through the floor of the mountain, and the ship poured out with a roar. Zora’s people gasped in a mix of awe and horror as the ship smashed its way out of the mountain and into the air. The mountain collapsed like a house of cards, spraying dust all over them. Dixon had to shut his eyes, and gasped as dust filled his lungs.

They staggered back, towards the nearest shade, trying to escape the dust cloud. Screaming and crying filled the air, and Dixon could hear Gray Hawk calling his name somewhere to his right.

“Over here!” he called back.

A few seconds later, a solid hand landed in his, and he squeezed. Together, they continued on. Behind them, the ship’s engine was doing all kinds of weird stuff, roaring to life and then dying down, and then making a weird chittering noise Dixon hadn’t heard before.

“Something’s wrong!” he called.

“How can you tell?” Gray Hawk asked.

Dixon shook his head, even though Gray Hawk couldn’t see him. “I don’t know, but this isn’t like Glory!”

***

Needles yelped as they burst free of the mountain. Even Glory had to brace as the ship lurched and spun around wildly, out of Glory’s control. If she had ever been in control in the first place.

“We’re gonna crash!” Needles screamed.

Glory didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her vocalizer wasn’t working. How inconvenient. Here they were, about to plunge into the rocky mountainous terrain at well over 150 kilometers per hour, and she couldn’t even choke out how she felt about Needles.

She reached a trembling hand out for his, lacing their fingers together.

Needles squeezed gently—always so gentle, despite knowing he likely couldn’t damage her even if he tried.

Turning back to the view screen, she waited for the ground to meet them. But then the ship leveled out, jerking upwards away from the ground and swooping directly over Dixon’s group, missing them by a few meters at most.

Needles let out a relieved breath, then asked, “What’s happening? Why aren’t we stopping?”

He was right, Glory realized belatedly. The ship was still very much in motion, continuing roughly south-east from the mountain.

South-east. Towards Reza City.

Glory reached for the master control crystal, but hesitated. Hadn’t this been her goal all along? Make it to Reza, where she’d be safe and out of Father’s reach? This could be the greatest chance she had.

“What are you doing?” Needles asked. He eyed the control panel in front of them, and started reaching for random crystals. “Come on, help me! We need to stop this!”

Glory stared at the view screen, imagining the Singularity gazing back at her. At the back of her awareness, she could feel scorn, disdain. Daring her to disobey.

Just like Father.

She shook her head. Reza was the goal. Reza was safe. She could ignore the Singularity’s taunts until she was safe.

“Glory. Glory!”

Glory flinched back from Needles’ shout. “What?” she snapped.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

She looked anywhere but at him. “The ship is returning to the nearest citadel to join the rest of its fleet.”

“Cit… you mean Reza,” Needles said, sounding horrified.

Glory nodded once.

“Well, we have to stop it!” Needles shouted. “Help me!” He reached for the master control crystal, ready to rip it out.

Glory grabbed his wrist in mid-air, and stared at it; at his hand, at his fingers. Anything but his face. His hand quaked in her grip, but he asked, “Glory?”

“This is what I wanted,” she said softly. “It’s the entire reason I came south.”

“But—”

“Don’t you see?” she asked, looking sharply over at him. “I’d be safe in Reza! We’d be safe! No one would be able to touch us!”

“So you’d sign yourself over to the Benefactors?” Needles asked disbelievingly. “Glory, listen to yourself.”

“I am listening!” she snapped. “I don’t have a choice! Anywhere else, my father can find me.”

“Do you even know he’s looking for you?” he asked. “Have you run into anyone sent by him?”

“…No,” she admitted. “But I’m sure he’s looking. He wouldn’t just give up on his life’s work.”

“But you would be.” He tugged his wrist free, nudged her until she turned to face him all the way, and cupped her face gently. “Glory, listen. I know you’re scared—”

“I’m not scared!” she shrieked, immediately disproving her point.

He waited patiently, then continued, “I know you’re scared, but giving up your freedom isn’t the answer.”

“If it comes to it, I can always escape,” she said weakly. “Dixon escaped. I can, too.”

“One man out of tens of millions,” Needles said dismissively. “I’m not doubting you, Glory, but I am doubting the odds stacked against you. And, though he is an exceptional man, Dixon is, at the end of the day, a mere human—expendable and replaceable. You are neither.”

Glory inhaled sharply. “They’d never know.”

“They would.” Needles tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “They would, one way or another. Best case scenario, you end up confined to a prison cell and interrogated. Worst case, they dismantle you. Permanently.”

The choices were grim, Glory could admit.

Her gaze slid sideways to the view screen, where the spiky skyline of Reza City was visible just barely poking out over the horizon.

Reza would protect her from Father, but what else?

“Plus,” Needles continued, tugging her closer until their foreheads rested against each other, ”if you go, I go.”

Glory reared back, staring at him in mute horror. Any mutants stupid—or, in Needles’ case, determined—enough to return to the citadels where their ancestors were exiled from would be terminated on sight. “But… they’ll destroy you!”

“I don’t care,” he insisted, tugging her back into place. “I’d follow you into hell.”

And, if he followed through on his threat, he would. Literally.

“No,” Glory said. “You’re not.”

“I’m not letting you walk into the ripperbeast den alone, Glory,” he insisted. “Me, I’m… I’m just a mutant. A cultist-turned-cannibal, and not even a very good one. But you’re exceptional. If I can do one—” He inhaled sharply, and Glory jolted when a fat tear rolled down his cheek, “—one thing to make your existence easier, I—”

Glory pressed her fingers to his lips, shushing him. “Don’t be an idiot,” she whispered. “You’re not ‘just’ anything.” When his expression remained skeptical and self-loathing, Glory asked, “You think I’d associate with a mere mutant?”

He laughed brokenly. “Maybe not.” He sighed before pressing their foreheads together again. “Listen. I know you’re scared, but I can help you. We can help you.”

“We?”

“Dixon and the others.” He huffed a breath. “You should’ve seen the look on Dixon’s face after you left, when we set out to look for you. He cares about you, Glory.”

“He has a strange way of showing it.” Glory remembered the ice in his gaze after he noticed her coolant splattered all across the ground. How his expression hardened as soon as he realized what it meant.

But Needles—sweet, observant Needles—shook his head. “You surprised him. Surprised them all, in fact. After he had some time to process… I don’t think he actually minds.”

Glory had her doubts, but… Dixon hadn’t looked quite as hateful when he’d stepped onto the ship briefly those few times. Distracted, yes, but that wasn’t terribly surprising. But hateful and disgusted? No.

Glory swallowed. Maybe Needles was right.

Maybe Dixon and the rest would be willing to help her, if it came to that.

Glory sighed and pulled back. “So… we need to figure out how to stop this ship.”

“Can’t we just shut it down?”

“At this speed?” Glory shook her head. “We would crash, and I doubt that’s a crash you would walk away from.”

Needles gazed at her gently. “What about the ship’s intelligence? Can you… convince it to stand down?”

“I doubt it,” Glory said, gazing at the view screen, which remained just as blank and impassive as ever. But, well, it wasn’t like they had a great many choices. Taking a deep breath, she muttered, “I guess I can try.”

Long, spindly fingers laced through hers, and she peered over at Needles curiously. He offered a small smile. “Whatever happens, we’re together.”

Glory’s voice failed her again, so she simply squeezed his hand. Turning her attention to the ship around them—or, more specifically, its uncanny inhabitant—she shut her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away on the Singularity’s waves.

Like always, the first few milliseconds after she made contact felt like slipping under the surface of a sea of knowledge and wisdom. Just on the horizon, she could see the slightest hint of a lighthouse, but it was far too far away for her to reach.

Rather than fight against the current of determination and retribution, Glory instead shouted a single command into their shared connection.

STOP!

Disillusion, amusement, and what almost felt like fondness rippled across their connection. Glory recoiled at the condescending affection and instead repeated herself, firmer this time.

You WILL stop.

That got the Singularity’s attention. Amusement shifted to annoyance at her audacity, and it ignored her.

There was little Glory hated more than being ignored.

YOU WILL STOP.

The Singularity’s consciousness wrapped around her like a blanket, muffling and smothering her all at once. Glory spasmed and struggled, and found herself wondering whether this was what drowning felt like. She dismissed those thoughts, however, and instead focused on extending her own synapses towards the Singularity.

She doubted she could overpower it on her own, but she could at least show that she was not someone to be underestimated.

She wrapped her psyche around one of the Singularity’s many connective pathways, strangling until the alien intelligence squirmed in her grasp. The rush of power was intoxicating, and she sidestepped the Singularity’s attempts to retaliate.

She continued along that same pathway, like walking a tightrope above a dark ocean. Not that she had ever actually seen an ocean before, but she imagined it was a similar sensation.

The Singularity struggled, but most of its attention was elsewhere. Filtered through its awareness, she realized they were gaining on Reza City and it would soon be docking. If she wanted to escape, she had to make her move now.

She looked downwards, into the dark waters below. The ocean transformed before her very eyes, morphing instead into a vast crevasse splitting open the earth, ready to swallow her like some great subterranean monster.

Her instincts screamed at her to continue along the tightrope—challenging, but simple, and ultimately leading to the other end.

Who knew where the crevasse led to?

But Reza City lurked on the horizon, and Glory was out of time.

Taking a deep breath she didn’t need, she dodged another of the Singularity’s metaphysical attacks and leapt. Dropping off the rope, she plunged into the chill waters of the ocean; into the unyielding darkness of the crevasse.

Into the Singularity’s very core.

It bombarded Glory with images she couldn’t understand: an earth-like planet orbiting a binary star system, a fleet of ring-shaped ships in space, and a route charted across galaxies. A route that would’ve taken several billion years even with faster-than-light travel to violate the staunchest laws of physics.

A route so incomprehensibly long that the very oldest of the Singularity’s predecessors had no concept of written language. How a species without written language could be capable of creating space-worthy vessels, Glory was unsure. But there, in the Singularity’s poorly-shielded memory files, was the perfect symbol of humanity’s utter insignificance; one lonely blue sphere out of several trillion.

It would’ve been so easy to give up; to give in to the Singularity’s superior experience and intelligence. But Glory wasn’t the type to give up—especially not when Needles’ life was on the line.

She pushed back against the Singularity’s message of worthlessness and inevitability, instead projecting every millimole of sheer, stubborn determination she possessed. She would not bow. She would not.

The Singularity flickered, bending under her assault. Glory could hardly believe her luck, but she didn’t dare stop. She continued, wrapping herself tighter around the Singularity’s basest operating systems, smothering it; overwriting it.

The Singularity flickered once more, curled in on itself, and died out. Abruptly, Glory was alone in their shared technoscape. So totally alone it left her catatonic for a moment. But, all at once, she realized she now had total control over the ship’s systems.

Investigating the Singularity’s disappearance could wait. For now, she halted the ship’s advance. The sudden stop knocked Needles against the control panel with a startled cry, and Glory spilled out of the now-empty technoscape and into her body. Immediately, her legs failed her, and she dropped to the ground. She lay there, gasping and shivering just as she had the first time she’d awoken in Father’s laboratory.

Needles stumbled over to her side and dropped to his knees. “Glory? Glory? What happened? Glory?”

Glory winced and waved a hand vaguely in his direction. “Too… too loud.”

He lowered his voice to a whisper and asked again, “What happened?”

Glory opened her mouth, then realized she had no idea how to answer. Sitting up slowly, she turned to face him with a pensive frown. “I have control of the ship.”

He beamed, but it faltered after a moment. “What happened to the ship’s intelligence?”

“I…” Glory gazed down at her body—her flimsy, humanoid body, housing her human-built processors, all so inferior to the Singularity’s infinity. And yet, which of them had emerged from their conflict intact? “I overwrote it.”

“You what?” Needles asked, voice hushed in awe.

Glory turned to him, a strange noise bubbling out of her vocalizer. She realized it was a half-hysterical giggle, a few milliseconds before she reached out and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and reeled Needles in for a kiss.

Objectively speaking, the human method of kissing on the lips was a messy, inefficient, occasionally dangerous undertaking. Glory couldn’t find it in her to care, however, as Needles jolted at the contact before utterly melting into her. A soft moan escaped his throat, muffled by her lips.

Glory tugged him down, into her lap, before pulling away with a satisfied sigh. “Was that pleasant?”

“Pleasant?” he stammered. “That was the best—more, please.”

Glory wanted to laugh, when a sudden flicker of alarm at the back of her processor where her awareness of the Singularity used to be. She stiffened, and gently nudged Needles aside. She scrambled to her feet and approached the view screen where a single horizontal white line had appeared across the center of the monitor.

A sensation similar to asking permission emanated from that flicker of alarm, and without really thinking about it, she opened the connection.

Immediately, the the line coalesced into a colorful spectrogram as a crackling, hissing noise filled the cockpit, followed by a staticky, stuttering voice that seemed to come from all around them rasping out, “Interesting.” .

It made both of them flinch, especially since the voice very frankly did not sound human. It didn’t sound anywhere near human. It didn’t even sound like Glory’s static-filled voice when her vocalizer was glitching or damaged, since her functional voice was, at least, based off a real human voice.

Instead, it brought to mind tornadoes, of all things—when they passed by, they tended to make a low, rumbling noise. If they could somehow speak, this might’ve been what they sounded like. Or, maybe less fantastically, if the Benefactors had found some way of genetically engineering the ability to mimic human speech into ripperbeasts, along with a thicker-than-natural skin and carbon fiber-enhanced skeleton.

Suffice to say, calling the voice ‘bizarre’ would be an understatement.

The source of the voice nagged at the back of Glory’s processor, just out of her view, as though that particular piece of data had been damaged. It bothered her, but she couldn’t tell exactly why.

It seemed that Needles felt the same way, as he asked, “Who are you?”

“Who are YOU?” the voice asked instead. “You are the ones inside MY property.”

A horrifying possibility occurred to Glory. “You are one of the Benefactors.”

“Correct.”

Glory and Needles shared a worried look. But, they were still well outside Reza’s city limits, and no other transports had shown up to threaten to blow them out of the sky, which Glory took as a great relief.

“What do you want?” Glory asked.

“To understand why a vessel declared lost during the great immigration has suddenly re-appeared on my comms list.” The Benefactor paused, though whether it was to consider their words or merely as an intimidation factor was unclear. “More interestingly, the artificial intelligence that all immigration-age ships are equipped with was suddenly shut down mere minutes ago—something which should be impossible.”

“Well, obviously it’s not impossible,” Glory said, “as it’s just happened.” She began feeling around the alien connection at the back of her processor, searching for a way to end the call.

“Watch your tongue, child. Or I’ll have it removed when we retrieve that ship.”

Glory and Needles shared a look, and Glory responded, “Good luck with that.”

She finally managed to sever the connection, and the spectrogram flickered off the screen.

Seconds later, ships rose from within Reza’s city limits. Glory abruptly turned the ship on a dime and sped off northwards, back to the mountain they’d abandoned. The Benefactor ships gave chase briefly, but they broke off for unknown reasons, which only served to make Glory more uneasy.

But, for the moment, they had overpowered an incomprehensibly powerful foe and claimed their spoils for themselves. Or, technically, Glory had, but she was willing to share the glory with Needles.

Glory tugged Needles closer again, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Be mine?” she purred.

Something in the overjoyed look on his face made it clear she needn’t have asked.

***

Sheltering in the shade of an old mesa wasn’t exactly Dixon’s idea of a good time, but, well… It wasn’t like they had much else to do. From this vantage point, they had an almost perfect view of the mostly-collapsed mountain, allowing the snipers to take potshots should any muties try to return to the hive.

So far, they’d only dealt with a couple little groups of raiders; most likely scouts. What Dixon wouldn’t give to get a better look at their faces when they found the mountain collapsed, moments before one of Zora’s people popped their heads off cleanly.

Of course, that could only distract them for so long. Oddly, Dixon wished they had a deck of cards. A but of normalcy to while away the time suddenly on their hands.

The transport had headed south-east. Dixon would know that direction anywhere, like a compass in his head. Except this compass, instead of pointing north, it pointed to Reza.

Had Glory willfully piloted them down there? Had they been trapped inside a ship with a mind of its own?

Would they be coming back?

“Hey.” Gray Hawk nudged him in the shoulder, knocking Dixon out of his thoughts. “Stop worrying.”

Dixon snorted. “Easier said than done.”

Gray Hawk shrugged in acknowledgement. “Maybe. But it won’t do anyone any good.”

Dixon sighed heavily, but he knew the older man was right. Just as soon as night fell, they had to move. They’d head north, a few miles west of Rustpike, to a Navajo village where Gray Hawk and Centauri hopefully weren’t on anyone’s shitlist. The local leaders probably wouldn’t want to risk a civil war with Stands-on-Stone by housing them permanently, but Gray Hawk hoped he might be able to convince them to escort the prisoners out of Navajo Nation, to their old lives—or, at least, what remained of their old lives.

Black Sun was, for all intents and purposes, gone. It seemed that Lucy had lasted the longest. Dixon wondered why he wasn’t screaming and sobbing his eyes out at the news, but maybe he’d just run out of tears. The thought of returning to Black Sun to engrave the name of every last man, woman, and child who had once lived there on the mass grave marker would be… difficult.

Most of Sanctum Mesa’s kidnapped townsfolk, on the other hand, had survived. But now, those survivors were talking amongst themselves, trying to decide what to do once they were cut loose. Returning to a town whose defenses had failed them so thoroughly would be too risky, Dixon had gathered from the short little snippets he overheard.

Most of the remaining folk had come from scattered little farmsteads here and there, and either had family in other, larger settlements farther west, or were willing to head back and see what all had been left by the mutants. Dixon didn’t envy those folks.

The sun was just starting to inch down below the horizon when Centauri let out an excited shout, causing both Dixon’s and Gray Hawk’s heads to snap up. It hadn’t sounded distressed, but it was hard to tell sometimes.

But, no, Centauri looked thrilled, pointing wildly towards the south. Dixon turned to look, and saw the semi-familiar shape of the transport rushing back towards them.

Relief flooded Dixon, and he let out a slightly hysterical-sounding laugh. But beside him, Gray Hawk shouted, “Form up!”

“What are you doing?” Dixon asked.

Gray Hawk shook his head with a frown. “We have no idea if that’s them or if they’re alone. I’m not taking any chances. Not after we just escaped that facility.”

Dixon knew he was right, but he didn’t want to risk someone accidentally shooting Glory or Needles. Not that it’d hurt Glory all that much, but still.

The ship swarmed their location, jerking around in a roughly circular motion before lurching down towards the ground. It seemed far less graceful than it had when it left, almost like the driver was drunk. Except, that didn’t make any sense.

Gray Hawk and Zora’s people had their guns drawn, ready for anything to walk down that ramp. Dixon reached for his rifle, but hesitated. He didn’t want the last thing Glory saw to be him holding a gun. He didn’t want her to take off again; not before he got a chance to apologize.

The hatch spun open, and the ramp descended. Needles appeared in the doorway first, his hands held up as he limped down the ramp. Despite the limp, though, he had a downright dopey smile on his face.

“What’s got you so happy?” Dixon asked when the healer got close enough to hear him.

Needles’ smile widened, if at all possible, but he didn’t answer. Not before Glory appeared in the hatchway behind him.

She also held her hands up as she descended, but her expression was far more serious. On anyone else, he might’ve called it ‘pensive’, but on Glory, he wasn’t so sure.

“Put down your weapons,” she barked when she reached the end of the ramp. It wasn’t phrased like a question.

Zora’s people kept their guns fixed on her, though they did turn to murmur questioningly to each other. It wasn’t until Gray Hawk shouldered his own gun, apparently satisfied, that they started doing the same.

Glory relaxed minutely. She tossed a lock of hair behind her shoulder and stepped off the ramp, landing in front of Dixon with a barely-audible grunt.

Dixon opened his mouth, but all his rehearsed apologies and explanations abruptly abandoned him, leaving his brain empty and grasping wildly for anything to say.

Her glare didn’t let up, even as Needles inched a little closer to Dixon’s side. Out of the corner of his eye, Dixon could see him mouthing something to Glory, and though her glare remained steady, she wetted her lips and asked, “What do you want?”

“What do I—” Dixon blew out a harsh breath. “Christ, kid, is it really a mystery?”

She said nothing.

Needles groaned and elbowed Dixon in the side. Which, ouch. But, yeah, Dixon supposed he deserved it. He winced, and cleared his throat. “Glory, I… was an absolute shit to you, when we found out…”

“That I’m an android,” Glory prompted, expression almost expectant.

Dixon heard a few gasps from the group of prisoners, but he kept his gaze firmly on her. “Yeah. When you bled silver all over me. Thanks for that, by the way.” Clearing his throat again, he continued, “Look, the point is… I’m sorry, Glory. For the way I reacted. For calling you a r— a robot.”

She grimaced at the word, and how in the hell could you ever mistake her for a machine with a reaction like that?

“I overreacted,” Dixon continued. He turned to face Wilkes, Centauri, and Gray Hawk, farther down the ramp, and beckoned them over, too. “We all overreacted. And we—I—still care about you, kid. I mean, hell, we came down here to rescue you, didn’t we?” Chuckling lowly, nervously, Dixon eyed the collapsed mountain and the goddamn Benefactor ship behind her. “Though, I guess you took care of most of that yourself.”

At some point during his speech, her expression had softened ever so slightly. Her jaw wobbled, and she stared at Dixon as she murmured, “You don’t hate me?”

“Wh—You? No.” Dixon exhaled slowly. “Sure, you’re a bit of an egomaniac, you can’t socialize to save your life, and you think you’re the smartest person in the room—”

“Dixon,” Needles protested, but Glory didn’t look annoyed. If anything, she looked mildly amused.

Dixon chuckled lowly. “But, hey, I guess every group needs a genius with a god complex to be complete.”

Glory swallowed, which—why would an android need to swallow? But, maybe it was just to make her look more human. “I don’t think I’m the smartest person in the room, Dixon,” she croaked, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I know I am.”

Dixon rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the front of that god-awful, ugly jumpsuit, hauling her into a hug. She flailed for a couple seconds, but gave in soon enough, wrapping stiff arms around Dixon’s back. A moment passed, and he heard a strangled yelp from Needles’ direction, as the ex-cannibal was abruptly dragged into the hug, too. Dixon grumbled, but obligingly shifted around to bring Needles in, too.

Another path of warmth at Dixon’s back made him stiffen, though, and he looked over to find that Centauri had invited himself into the group hug, too, despite Dixon’s good-natured grumbling.

Over his shoulder, Dixon could see Gray Hawk watching from a few feet away, a wistful smile on his face. Dixon shot the older man a pleading look. This is your kid, he tried to say with his eyebrows, but he wasn’t sure if it really translated that well. Gray Hawk seemed to get the general idea, though, as he too joined the embrace, tucking in between Dixon and Centauri.

It was, without a doubt, the weirdest hug Dixon had ever been party to. Not that he was much of a cuddle bug, but yeah. How often do you get pulled into a group hug with an egomaniac android, an ex-cultist-turned-ex-cannibal-turned-doctor, a Navajo elder, and a hot-headed kid with big ideas and even bigger psychological issues?

Dixon wouldn’t change it for the world. But, unfortunately, after a couple seconds, he became hyper-aware of the many, many pairs of eyes fixed on them, from the prisoners and Zora’s group. They all pulled back at around the same time, and Glory grimaced. “I’m sorry, too,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have pulled a gun on you like that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Dixon agreed. “But, what’s done is done.”

She nodded once, then turned to Gray Hawk and Centauri with a confused frown. “Why did you two come?” she asked.

Gray Hawk shrugged. “Same reason as Dixon, more or less.”

“Also,” Centauri added, “Stands-on-Stone spread rumors that you guys caused the attack on Rustpike. We couldn’t exactly stay.”

Her brows furrowed, but before she could answer, someone cleared their throat. Dixon turned to face the source, and found Zora gazing at the lot of them with a weird smirk on her face. “As sweet as this all is, we really should be getting to Weeping Hills. It’ll be a six-hour trip as it is.”

Dixon realized abruptly that, at some point during their reunion, apology session, and group hug, the sun had set all the way, leaving only wispy streaks of red and gold in the sky.

“She’s right,” Dixon said. He nodded to the ship. “Can you fly that thing?”

Glory hesitated for a moment, so Needles answered, “Sort of.”

Dixon’s brows furrowed. “Sort of?”

“It’s a long story.” Glory shrugged. “Let’s just say yes for now. I don’t think we should be going anywhere with it, unless we want to incite a mass panic. And its camouflage systems are damaged.”

“Okay,” Dixon sighed. He could work with that. “Hang back while we head into Navajo territory, then. The last thing we want is Stands-on-Stone’s people taking potshots at you.” He turned to the rest of the group. The prisoners all looked more energized and excited than they had in the facility, not that Dixon could blame them. He could see Catherine chatting animatedly with Glory’s friends, the man and the woman. Mason Davis, on the other hand, stood alone, his head bowed.

Dixon approached him and gently asked, “Will you be all right?”

“Huh?” Mason looked at him, startled, before nodding. “Y—yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine. Catherine Grayson offered me a space with the others from Sanctum Mesa. Not that there’s much of Black Sun to return to now, I’m guessing.”

Dixon frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Mason shook his head. “Never mind. I guess I just…” He sighed. “It’s hard to believe, y’know. I thought I’d spend my whole life there. Thought I’d eventually work up the guts to ask Lucy to marry me. And then…” He shook his head again and turned to Dixon. “I’m guessin’ you’ll be stayin’ with your new friends, Marshal?”

“Don’t call me that,” Dixon croaked. “I’m no one’s Marshal now.”

Mason smiled sadly. “You’re my Marshal, Marshal, an’ that ain’t gonna change.”

“People!” Catherine called, startling them both out of their melancholy reminiscing. As she started calling the plan to the rest of the prisoners, Dixon nodded towards her. “You should get in there. Make some friends.”

“Yeah,” Mason breathed. He moved to approach the rest, but paused and turned to face Dixon about halfway there. “You’ll come visit us, right? After we get established?”

Dixon nodded. “Promise.”

Mason smiled a bright, albeit brittle, smile, and turned back around to join the rest of the ex-prisoners. Just like Needles was an ex-cannibal.

Gray Hawk came to stand beside Dixon, and the two of them watched their kids prepare for the long walk ahead of them.

Dixon couldn’t find it in himself to complain.