"You will lose someone you can't live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."
― Anne Lamott

Although the Hero's Guildhouse is a tall skyscraper, space management is a priority. No room is any bigger than it strictly needs to be, and this includes the apartments, generously called that. Each apartment is designed similarly to a hotel room. There is a large room that is somewhat divided into a living space with a bed with an adjoining dresser and a kitchenette filled with a portable stove and a minifridge. The second room is a small bathroom with a clothing rack in one of the corners. It possesses all the daily necessities and nothing more. The individual living in the room has to add the personal touches themselves.

Tommy's guild-issued room is the standard version. Unlike everyone else, though, Tommy doesn't have anything personal in his room. He has some clothes hung up in the bathroom, he has some grooming appliances, and his food packets are organized in his minifridge- but that was it. Everything else was the same as the day Tommy was given the keys to the room. He used the room to sleep and to store his food packets, but it wasn't anything close to being his home. There were long stretches of time when he didn't even come into the room, evidenced by the thin layer of dust coating everything. Tommy just didn't have anything to mark the room as his own. He didn't use his paycheck to buy useless items when he could be using it to gather information or strike deals with people. He didn't spend his time browsing through stores when he could be investigating old safehouses that once belonged to the Syndicate. He didn't have the heart to put random knick knacks around his room when he knew that they ultimately meant nothing.

The one thing in this whole room that Tommy would fight to protect is hidden away in a small compartment he carved into his floorboards. He lifts up the tile in the bathroom, setting it aside to look at his prized position. He runs his fingers along the glass surface of the picture frame, pulling it into his lap. It's the only picture he has of his family. It was a candid picture taken for a newspaper article about the rising homeless population in L'Manberg, an old district that had been destroyed. The article was unflattering, but Tommy couldn't part with the image. It had his entire family, after all. Niki and Jack were sitting on a bunch of crates in the upper right corner. Eret was holding Fundy in his arms and Tubbo's hand in the middle left side. In the forefront of the image, Tommy had his back to the camera because he was looking at Wilbur, his smiling older brother who held both of Tommy's hands, spinning him around because dancing was their favorite pastime.

Wilbur was Tommy's north star. No matter how far Tommy ran, he would always return to Wilbur. No matter how loud Tommy yelled, he would always listen to Wilbur. No matter how far Tommy strayed, Wilbur was there to guide Tommy home. Even now, Tommy searches in every broken moment for his brother. He assumes that he'll always feel the urge to find his brother, like a compass blindly swinging towards a lodestone. Tommy runs his fingers along the glass, right where Wilbur's head is tilted down with the kindest smile Tommy knows he will ever see.

Tommy looks up, away from the picture. Tears burn in his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. It had been years since his family died, and he still gets choked up over the memories. It feels like a fresh wound, still warm with blood and pulsating with sharp pain that has not faded into a dull ache. But it's worse than a wound, because wounds will heal with time. They can be alleviated with painkillers or bandages. They can be seen and felt and taken care of. The pain in Tommy's heart won't dissipate with material goods, and he can't seem to find a spiritual remedy. The closest he's gotten to finding a medication is revenge. He knows that once his family's killers are dead, he will feel better. The pain won't leave him until Azrael and Inchling are six feet under, buried in the rubble they caused with their ill-placed explosives.

Tommy wipes the unshed tears out of his eyes as he stands on his feet. He walks out of his bathroom, nudging the tile back into place. He takes the picture frame with him. He carefully places it on top of his clothing packed in the small traveling bag. He makes sure that it's protected before he zips the traveling bag up. He lifts the traveling bag up by its handles, the worn leather pressed into the calluses on his hands. The traveling bag carries its own set of painful memories. It was something Reverie gifted him with after he joined the Hunters. Tommy rightfully hated Reverie, but he couldn't bear throwing away one of the few gifts he had ever gotten from the cruel gang leader.

Tommy hears a familiar sound of something tapping against glass. As if that wasn't revealing enough, he heard a squawk. Tommy carefully sat the traveling bag on the ground. As he was leaned over, he made sure that his mask and glasses were on correctly. He walks around the side of the bed to the window in his room. He pulls the window open. He sits on the windowsill, putting one foot on the sill in front of him while keeping his other leg inside his apartment. Crowfather lands on Tommy's knee, picking at his wings before giving Tommy his undivided attention.

"Big news, Crowfather. I'm moving... temporarily. And this isn't just me freeloading off Croupier's couch or sleeping on a fucking park bench. The Syndicate- those fuckers- want me to move to a whole new location. They claim it's to keep tabs on me, but we all know why they're fucking doing it: they're scared of me," Tommy explains to Crowfather. The crow caws, dipping his head down. Tommy recognizes the laugh. He scowls at his companion. "Hey, I don't need shit from you. I am plenty terrifying. When women aren't throwing themselves at me, I am scaring the piss out of people. And I mean, everyone. Even the children. I am not above scaring a child... okay, I can see how that would get me canceled, but... sometimes you have to scare a child. It's a fact of life."

Crowfather lifts one of his wings up before letting it drop down against his body. He wants Tommy to get on with his story. "First of all, fucking rude. Second of all, I don't take orders from anyone, especially not a fucking crow. Third- ow! Fuck!" Crowfather pecked his hand. Tommy glares at the crow. "Fine! I'll finish my story. Damn. I'm just saying: the Syndicate thinks they'll be keeping tabs on me... jokes on them, I'm fucking keeping tabs on them. That's right. I am fixing to be a super spy. I'm going to steal Serenade's credit card numbers and buy a shit ton of drugs. And gift cards. And women. Wait- I don't mean- forget I said that one."

Crowfather makes a noise from deep within his throat. Tommy is about to defend himself because he accidentally implies that he's buying women when Crowfather makes another similar noise. It sounds more like he's concerned, and Tommy realizes what he told Crowfather. "Yes, Serenade is a mind-controller- but, get this, it doesn't work on me. Well, it does, but it's shit. I've studied Serenade. His power isn't technically mind-control. He's just really fucking good at convincing people to do shit for him. He can even convince someone to fucking off themself. Totally not poggers. But that's what it is: convincing. You just can't be a pussy, and his powers won't work on you. He can still make me do shit, but he's limited. He can't make me do anything I don't want to do. You see? My inability to follow orders is a fucking godsend. Praise be Prime!"

Tommy isn't actually religious, but most people are. He's learned a lot about the different religions in an effort to relate to his targets. For no good reason, Essempei is filled with different religions. Tommy doesn't really care about any of them, but if people want to throw their lives away in the pursuit of powerful deities that won't do anything for them, Tommy won't stop him. In fact, he'd encourage it because it's easier to manipulate people with strong ideals. As long as they think what they're doing is in the pursuit of their god, they'll do just about anything. Tommy doesn't frequently abuse this fact, but he does what he needs to in order to get his missions done. He's never claimed to be a hero, after all. Just an esper for the Hero's Guild. There was a big difference there.

Crowfather lifts both of his wings. He leaves them up for a solid few seconds before dropping them back down. Tommy isn't exactly sure what Crowfather is doing, but he feels like he's just been asked a question. "I'll be going to Paradise Apartments. It's on Empires borough's coast, across from Las Nevadas. I've seen it before, but I've never been to a place that fucking fancy. I grew up in L'Manberg. Before it was blown to kingdom come, that was poverty central. After that, I ran with the Hunters. They mainly stayed in Greater Prime Heights. The name is fucking rip-off. Greater Prime Heights is where the shady rich people live. The Hunters didn't do shit for anyone. Now, I'm with the Hero's Guild. I live here. I stay with Croupier sometimes. And I sleep on a fucking park bench occasionally. I don't need to visit Paradise Apartments. Until fucking now because Serenade needs only the finest things in life. Prime, I should have become a villain. I could have been fucking rich as balls. But nope. I'm stuck in this shithole."

Crowfather shrieks. Tommy winces, leaning away from his companion. He pulls his leg back into his apartment. Crowfather flutters his wings as he settles on the windowsill in absence of Tommy's knee. Tommy grabs his traveling bag. He clutches it in his fist as he walks back to the window. Tommy smiles at Crowfather despite knowing that the crow can't see a smile beneath a metal mask. Or, truly, a crow wouldn't know what a smile is. "Follow me, alright? I need my therapist to know where I'll be staying for the next... I hope it's fucking days. I hope I'm only staying there for a couple of days."

Crowfather squawks his approval, though Tommy isn't sure which statement he's approving. Tommy swings both of his legs out of the window before he pushes off. His body hurdles to the ground until a red caustic light spills over his skin. He stops moving immediately, hanging in the air like a puppet on strings. Tommy shoves his body around until he's upside down. He looks into the tinted windows of the Hero's Guild's lower floors. He waves at the people sitting in there as he presses the toe tips of his shoes against the glass. He pushes off with all his leg strength. His floating gains momentum, sending him forward. Crowfather flies circles around Tommy. When Tommy comes dangerously close to a rooftop, he just angles his feet. He runs about two steps before he's pushing off the concrete. He starts to float upward, rising higher than most of the buildings. He grabs hold of a lightning rod, swinging around it before shooting off once more. Tommy doesn't have many pleasant pastimes, but his pseudo-flying is definitely one of them.

Empires borough is decidedly different from Prime Heights. Where Prime Heights is the oldest district with many historical and political buildings, Empires is more modern and significantly poorer. It is the most culturally diverse borough, mainly because it has the highest population of hybrids. Because of the prejudice hybrids face, many different gangs have formed in Empires to protect the people. The gangs don't exactly inspire regular humans to view hybrids as anything other than violent, but Tommy isn't part of that group. He would like to think it's because he's a better person, but it's mostly because Fundy had been a hybrid, and how was Tommy supposed to hate any aspect of his family? Tommy saw value in Fundy's life which meant that every hybrid- just like humans- carried their own worth. Now, Tommy wouldn't assume all hybrids were good, but he wasn't going to deem them despicable because they joined a gang. He had joined a gang once. It didn't work out for him, but he hopes that the hybrids have better luck.

Still, gangs aren't exactly welcoming to humans or heroes, especially not both and especially not when they carry such a loaded name such as 'Vendetta'. Tommy isn't going to take his sweet time going through Empires. He would prefer to do that when he was out of uniform and could get into one of the many beautiful parks Empires had without locals looking at him weird. It was truly unfair that Empires had such gorgeous parks. Prime Heights was all concrete and glass, Badlands was too hot and underdeveloped, and Snowchester was too cold and all industrial. Las Nevadas did have some nice parks, but Tommy never went to the island borough for the parks. No one did except people who wanted a nice view for their elopement.

When Tommy sees the waves of Business Bay, he deactivates his powers. His glider pops out like routine, and Tommy starts following a decline. Crowfather gradually descends with him. It doesn't take long for Tommy to hover over the thin beach. He lands in the sand with a lot more carefulness than he would usually use. He pulls his traveling bag to his chest, unzipping it to make sure that his picture frame is alright. When he confirms that there have been no cracks in the glass or tears in the paper, he sighs in relief. He zips the traveling bag back up.

He looks up from where he's standing to see that Crowfather had landed on a tree branch. He tilts his head towards a wooden building surrounded by several other buildings on the grassy area right behind the beach. Tommy recognizes it instantly, having done his research about the place when Enderwalk gave him a note about where he would be moving the day prior. Out of all the skills Tommy has mastered in his lifetime, research would probably be the one he has perfected the most. It is useful in almost every situation. Tommy is plenty powerful on his own, but he doesn't refuse getting an edge over his opponents when he can.

Tommy walks into the front lobby of the apartment building. There is a collection of velvet red couches and chairs surrounding a coffee table covered in magazines in the corner, overlooked by a television playing the local news channel on mute. There is a wall of silver boxes in the wall with black numbers plates hammered on each tiny door for mail. There is a pair of silver elevator doors flanked by an exit and a stairwell door. The entire lobby is empty. It's warm and brightly illuminated by golden light but completely empty.

The silence is broken by the elevator dinging. The doors slide open, and Serenade stands underneath the fluorescent lighting. He inclines his head towards Tommy, and the hero knows that the villain is smiling despite not being able to see his expression. Serenade steps off the elevator, placing a hand on the doors to keep them open. He gestures for Tommy to come closer. The blonde wants to refuse on principle, but he knows it's in his best interest to be civil with his new roommate. Tommy walks over, ignoring the way his fist closes so tight that it shakes. Serenade tilts his head towards Tommy's traveling bag. "Vendetta! How good of you to join me! Do you want me to take your bag?"

Fuck civility. Tommy practically growls as he brings his traveling bag behind him. He doesn't care about the clothes inside. He doesn't even care about the bag itself. It's the picture inside the traveling bag that Tommy refuses to hand over. Despite the poor quality of the photograph, it's the only one he has of his family. It is his most precious possession. He doesn't want to listen to Serenade make fun of Tommy for some stupid picture of a bunch of homeless kids, and he won't be able to control what he does if Serenade decides to break the picture. It is better for everyone if Tommy keeps what feels like his second heart close to his body, far away from Serenade.

"Why don't you step inside the elevator? I'll show you to our apartment," Serenade says simply, entirely unbothered by Tommy's defiance. Serenade steps onto the elevator, turning his back to Tommy for a brief moment. When Tommy walks on the elevator, he doesn't let Serenade see his back. He knows that they're currently working together to stop the Red Army, and he knows that Serenade isn't known for stabbing people in the back. He just can't make himself forget that Serenade is a dangerous villain. Tommy knows his list of crimes, from the petty ones to the gruesome ones.

The elevator doors shut behind them. Serenade presses the button for the top floor. Tommy shakes the claustrophobia that clings to him at the prospect of being locked in a tiny box. He thought he had gotten over his childhood fear, but it rears its ugly head, probably because being trapped with Serenade was a horrible possibility. Serenade is unfazed by the situation. "The Paradise Apartments are known for being discreet. They are used by a variety of people, including members of your guild. It would do you very little to tell your superiors about this place. I'm no betting man, but I would wager to say they've been here themselves."

"I don't give a fuck what they do," Tommy informs Serenade the simple truth. The Guildmaster and his accomplices don't take up any of Tommy's time. They have their own lives running the guild and being rich and powerful. If Tommy can help it, he will only see his boss when it's absolutely necessary. Tommy carries this same mentality in most facets of his life. He doesn't hang around other heroes much, either. He's closer to a few of them than others, but he keeps everyone at arm's length. It could be a trauma response, but Tommy would rather believe that it's because he's so busy accomplishing his mission. He doesn't need friends when he could have allies. He doesn't need smalltalk when he could be discussing information. He doesn't need to hang out with people when he has so much to do and so little time to do it.

"No, you don't seem like the type who would care what other people do. Not unless it was beneficial to you, of course. That is just one way we're similar. I wonder how many other similarities we can find," Serenade laughs. Tommy looks away from Serenade as he scowls beneath his mask. He doesn't like Serenade. His only consolation is that the situation could be much worse. He would rather Serenade pretend they were something like friends than staring daggers with any other member of the Syndicate or getting into a bloody fight with specific members.

The elevator dings as the doors slide open. Serenade walks into the carpeted hallway first. Tommy follows after him, keeping a fair distance away. Serenade stops at one of the doors at the end of the hallway. He uses a bronze key to open the door for Tommy. The blonde doesn't move, eyeing Serenade until the villain huffs something like an annoyed laugh. Serenade enters the apartment first, and Tommy follows after him. Tommy tries to stay focused on Serenade, but his attention is diverted to the fancy apartment he's just walked into. The kitchen- an actual one with a full-grown fridge and freezer- is divided from the living room by a bar with stools. There is a long couch with a love seat right beside it, neither of them with any noticeable stains. There is a large TV plastered on the wall above a wooden hutch decked out with a DVD player and a gaming console. There was a hallway off to the side that contained four doors. Tommy knew that it was going to be nice because Serenade is the posh type, but he never imagined that it would be like this. It even had an oceanview window.

"I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of decorating before you arrived. I decided that if I must be roommates with you, the least you could do is allow me complete control of the design," Serenade explains with a satisfied tone in his voice. Tommy doesn't reply to Serenade's self-righteous words, so Serenade decides to continue talking, catching on to Tommy's awed expression partially hidden by his mask but apparently not well enough. "Well, you must tell me if you like it. Surely, you have much experience with the trends amongst the rich and famous. Tell me, Vendetta, I want to hear your opinion. None of this can be shocking to someone of your stature, now can it? Please-"

"What is the fucking plan, you talkative bitch?" Tommy cuts Serenade off, staring at the villain where he would assume his eyes would be. Serenade does stop talking. He turns his attention to Tommy for a long second, seemingly containing his fake attentiveness and attempts to amuse himself at Tommy's detriment.

"We have information on the Red Army. The Syndicate will be holding a meeting later tonight to discuss the details and come up with a plan," Serenade explains, waving his hands like it's inconsequential business.

"I have to be there," Tommy demands immediately. He steps toward Serenade, intending to argue with the villain about a hero's presence at the organization's meeting. Tommy knows that the Syndicate doesn't trust him, but he doesn't trust them, either. Their relationship is built entirely on necessity, and so Tommy believes that he has a right to attend their meetings if it pertains to the Red Army. He won't go as far as to demand to attend all meetings because he knows that simply won't fly, but he can at least attend this one.

"No need to raise your voice. You are expected to be there," Serenade says, lifting up both his hands placatingly. Tommy is quietly surprised that he isn't going to have to argue with the villain about being at the meeting. He isn't sure why, but he expected this partnership to be extremely difficult and one-sided. He thought he was going to have to fight for every opportunity that presented itself to contend with the Red Army. The Syndicate just... letting him help is unexpected.

"Good," Tommy replies instead of voicing his confusion. He brushes past Serenade to walk down the hallway. He guesses that the open bedroom door belongs to him because there is nothing in it. If Serenade was going to decorate the apartment, it stands to reason that he would decorate his own room. He probably wanted to offend Tommy by leaving his room bare, but Tommy would prefer his room to be empty instead of having Serenade's garbage taste surrounding him. He likes bare rooms; it won't get any better than this.

Tommy closes the door behind him, setting the traveling bag beside his bed. He unzips it, hurriedly pulling out his framed photograph. He doesn't have a secret hiding place for it yet, so he puts it in the bottom drawer of his nightstand in the far corner. He then kicks his traveling bag aside, happy that it lands right in front of his closed shudder closet. Tommy reaches his hand into his bag at the same time he pulls open the closet. Before he can start hanging up his clothes, he hears a pecking noise at his window. He turns around, smiling when he sees Crowfather has found him. Tommy vaults over the bed to pull open the window. He ends up having to use his powers because the window has been closed for so long. When the window does open, Crowfather lands on the windowsill, squawking a greeting. Tommy gestures to his new bedroom, sighing when he proclaims to his most trustworthy companion, "This is my life now."