A few weeks after the return of the sides, everything had settled back into normal. Everyone knew heir jobs and did it well.

Occasionally, they gathered to watch movies or play board games. Somethings they even played video games together.

But things were all right. Things were okay.

"Logan?" Patton called from across the living room, in the kitchen, as he baked cookies. "Did you ever find out what happened to the simulation program?"

"It was shut down," Logan said, looking up from his book. "Shortly after the creator, who we can assume was the man in the glasses that we fought, was found dead inside the test simulation."

"Oh, did we...?" Patton stopped his baking to look over at Logan.

"No," Logan shook his head. "He was injured due to stab wounds, and died of blood loss in the simulation. They mentioned a sword, but it seems as if they can't recover it."

"No kidding," Virgil appeared on the couch. "It's code, how are they gonna get it out?"

"Simple," Logan said. "They can't. Which is why the investigation was called off, and the program cancelled. They said a bug went rouge and murdered him."

It's silent.

"Does anyone else miss the simulation?" Patton asked. "Just... the parts of it that felt nice."

"Well, to an extent, yes," Logan sighed. "In the sense that it was certainly more productive to work in there than it was to work here with all of you, though I might say that I do prefer having you all around."

"Awww, you care about us," Virgil teased, earning a glare from Logan. "It's alright, Logan, we care about you too."

Logan sighed. "Forget it, I want to go back. Right now." He says.

Patton chuckles. "If you go back, you'll be there forever!" He says. "Should I send you a care package?"

"We can send him a care package filled with origami swords," Virgil says. "Maybe it'll bug the system. Then he won't have to come back."

"Feel the love for Logan," Roman said, rising up. "Seriously, origami swords?"

Virgil shrugs. "What else was I going to say? Real swords?"

Roman hums. "That would have been better," he says. "They'd prick him even more."

Logan sighs. "I'd rather not hear you plan my murder in front of me," he says. "Please."

"Oh this ain't your murder," Virgil says. "This is your care package."

I guess you could say things were alright. I guess you could say things were okay. Not everything has to be a perfectly designed set of instructions for life to make you smile.

So what makes life so special?

Is it a sunset? A joyride? Starbucks and some friends? Is it love? Music? Creation? Logic? Emotion? Nerve? Fear? Morals? Family?

I guess we'll never know.

(A/N: Sup. We ain't done yet boiios you gon get a sad alone Colourless Roman in the next chapter because guess what, I said so.

-Winter.)