I wish I could say we entered a harrowing chase against Hermes, reality, was far more disappointing. Pretty much right after Hermes left, I collapsed for about 30 hours. It took another 18 afterward before I could move again. Or at least shuffle on and off a wheelchair. Wiz and Peyton, miracle workers that they were, took care of the rest.

After what Titan's archivists call the "Battle of Epping," Persona used her Angelina disguise to present Hermes' helmet to whatever criminal was still around. Combined with my previous visits and Hermes vanishing completely after the fight, our message was clear. The Paladin reigned supreme, and if you didn't want her knocking on your door, stay away.

This creed laid true towards my "allies" as well as they got their old turfs, provided they kept their drug trafficking and fights outside of civilian spaces, plus help in community events. A temporary solution, I know, but at the very least, buffers up to control the media a little, keep regular tabs on them and bury our dead.

Unlike my previous encounters, the Pantheon didn't leave us any breadcrumbs, only their impression. Omar, Krisitna, Andile, Paaie, Cicero, Chuck, and Christen, all people who put their lives on the line to make this possible, would never enjoy it on the day before I had to leave. Peyton put in better words than I ever could as she poured me some tea from a dilapidated teapot.

"It's ironic isn't it? Titan records so much history through the Sleeper's eyes. Even though we're not even supposed to have one. We don masks instead capes and trade office shirts for combat vests. All while braving through the worst of the regular and underworld's, just to everyone else the spotlight," she said while clutching her bruised shoulder.

Waves of guilt festered within me as I wondered. Before running into Titan, did I walk by a Sleeper? Maybe I was, Or was some random bystander I didn't give the time of day to? Someone who may have needed it?

"I'm sor-"

Peyton then gave me a defiant look, shutting down my attempted self-pity and forcing me to stumble back on my words.

"You have my condolences. That's unfair, to both of you."

Peyton gave a dry chuckle, their airy tone morphing into something far more casual.

"I wouldn't say it's really unfair. It just, is. Doesn't make it any easier but it helps. Along, with some other things-"

"Like what?," I say while furrowing my brow.

Peyton's eyes then danced with excitement and inspiration. She then immediately flushed her tea into the sink while touching my shoulder.

"I think it'll be better if I show you."

With how ecstatic Peyton was, you'd think we would be finally enjoying the same landmarks I crossed a dozen times. Instead, we drove back towards the burgeoning boroughs of London as she pushed my wheelchair. In over a decade of peaceful identities and espionage, I'd be annoyed at my partner's feigned secrecy.

But when I brushed past the same rooftops, I vaulted over not even a week ago, now under daylight. I realized how different everything looked. Through one busy street alone, I saw a plethora of people. A mother holding two absent-minded kids by the hand, a blind man listlessly tapping away at the ground using his cane, and a hurried businessman late for some frantic job all ran by on their adventures.

We seemed to end, though, when Peyton took a sharp turn.

"Thank god it's still open."

My eyes then refocused on a store banner: Nikita's Nice Knicknacks. When we entered, an antique bell rang off as Peyton's politely said.

"Привет! Nikita?"

An unseen voice then answered back.

"Peyton!?,"

A plus-sized middle-aged woman with brown eyes and a black ponytail rushed toward Peyton and hugged her humongous. Smiles were had all around as Peyton happily responded.

"Haha! Good to see you too Nikita. I see you cleaned up the place nicely. How's business been?"

"Отличный ever since you showed up. You've been like a good luck charm ever since you left."

Nikita then finally noticed.

"Oh silly me, didn't even notice you brought a подруга.

My apologies …"

"Sarah," I simply stated.

"Sarah! I fine name. Are you looking to purchase

something?"

My trap stayed shut, trying to compose a backstory before Peyton joined in.

"We were just in the neighborhood and I wanted to say

Hi. And maybe get a souvenir or two.

"Well after what you did for me, you can take all the souvenir's you want. Why don't you have a look around while I go get you a drink."

"That's not necessary Nikita, we're just popping by. Besides, I love supporting small businesses."

"Ерунда! After what you did? It's the least I can do to return the favor."

Peyton genuinely looked flattered before deciding to give in.

"Fine, if you insist. Sarah and I are going to take a look around real quick."

Nikita then nodded and retreated to the store. As I saw more of the store, I realized how similar it looked to Peyton's "home." The store commanded a rustic feel, filled with antiques; along the way, Peyton explained their history with Nikita.

"A couple days before you arrived, I noticed Nikita here getting manhandled by some local thugs during some info gathering. When I dealt with them properly I talked with Nikita properly. This store was originally her late Aunt Albina's, practically raised Nikita here when they immigrated from Russia decades ago. This place is the only thing to remember her by. When she told me that I couldn't help but-" she said in a shaking breath.

"Make sure she wasn't forgotten?." I said tauntingly.

Peyton then smiled.

"Yeah, something like that. So I may have sent a couple of pounds and Sleepers her way to generate some business."

After passing through the umpteenth aisle, I then saw something glint from the corner of my eye. I then stopped strolling.

"Well if that's the case."

A few minutes later, I found myself oriented with a small black stoned butterfly-shaped brooch, sipping a cup of Nikita's hot ginger tea while on a chair facing the outside window. After Peyton was done shopping, she found a seat of her own. We then sat in silence a little, watching the same mundane street. It wasn't precisely The British Museum or Hyde Park, but somehow it didn't matter. Far as I'm concerned, this was the most beautiful sight in the city.

"That brooch looks great on you. Now you've got something to remember me, till our paths cross again at least."

In this unpredictable Hidden War, I guess that was the closest thing we could have to say "bye." Either way, regardless of what happens next, I know I'm never going to forget this. So I let her statement hang in the air while my friend continued.

"At least while you were here. Did you finally find what you were looking for? Find out who you are?," she said patiently.

That dreaded question again. I thought in the middle of all the death-defying stunts. We would have forgotten about it. Or at least put it to bed. But no, it instead rears its ugly head. I tried thinking up some complicated answer or profound statement, only to have it shut down entirely. I was almost about to dismiss it entirely, like the last sentence, until I found my answer in the most unlikely scenarios.

On a swift wind, the clouds covered the late morning sun at an odd angle, bathing the store in jubilant light. Persona's pale skin and already airy disposition, made her transparent in it's glow. Meanwhile, the shade seemed to reign only to my face, and seeing those people outside from the shadowy view gave me my answer.

"I don't know just yet. And I think for now, that's okay."

Any further words from that failed us both as Peyton smiled and leaned back, enjoying each other's company.