"All right, this is the last of the lot," Taeyong announced, setting down the cardboard box on the floor.

It rattled when he put it down to hard, making him wince. Taeyong straightened, hoping there hadn't been anything breakable in there.

"Already?" a muffled voice asked. Jaemin's head popped out from inside the doorway of an adjacent room, a lollipop stick sticking out of one corner of his mouth. "Gee, seventy hours do go by fast," he spoke around it.

"No need to be sarcastic," Taeyong muttered, picking his way among the boxes. "Get ready, they should be here soon."

"Sarcastic? Who, me?" Jaemin asked, smiling playfully. He stepped out of the doorway, looking with interest at the piles of cardboard boxes. "If only Taemin had been here, we could have set everything up much faster."

"I'm sure Taemin has more important things to do," Mark said, emerging from another room. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair mussed from the time he had had to dust cobwebs out of it. Sticking his head into old musty-smelling wardrobes had been a mistake. "Aren't we doing the furniture today?"

"Later," Taeyong promised, standing among the scattered boxes of varying sizes. "We only have a few minutes before the others show up, and you two aren't even dressed yet. Jaemin, don't make me regret inviting you."

Jaemin squealed in excitement, hopping over a smaller box to get to the blue-haired man and almost slipping in the piles of sawdust. "You won't regret it, I promise. I'll be on my best behavior."

Taeyong eyed him sternly. "You better be. Now, get dressed. And for god's sake, finish that lollipop and comb your hair. It looks like you haven't washed it for days."

Jaemin frowned, carding his sticky fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end to resemble cotton candy. "What do you mean? It looks fine."

The man sighed, waving him away.

Mark waved him over, gesturing to the huge art display he had propped up against one wall of the living room. "What do you think of this one, dad?"

Taeyong scrutinized the painting, looking at the swirl of cold colors and how they went surprisingly well with the cool mint shade of the walls. "Pretty good," he said, and Mark grinned proudly before going back in the room to get the others. Then Taeyong realized what the boy had called him, and blinked, opening his mouth—then thought better of it. Smiling slightly, he shook his head.

"I can't believe we're going to be roommates!" Mark called from inside the room, sounding sufficiently elated. His excitement about the moving hadn't faded over the past month. "I mean, like, not literally, of course, but—you know."

"Yeah, I know," Taeyong murmured, still smiling.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of gonna miss that old shack," Jaemin said, appearing from the bathroom, now dressed. Taeyong was mildly surprised at how quickly he had dressed up, but didn't think too much of it. When excited about something, Jaemin had a speed rivalling that of Taemin. The pink-haired boy looked up, fixing his lapels. "The creaking stairs and cramped space used to be annoying, but I'd kind of gotten used to them over so many years."

"Well, you can still go back there," Taeyong said. "Save me some money."

"Uh, no." Jaemin skipped back to the bathroom.

Just then, the front door of their new apartment was kicked open, revealing a man standing in the doorway with a massive grin and the air of a showman. "Uncle Kai's in the house!" he announced, spreading his hands dramatically. "Where are the good little kids?"

"Stop," Ten muttered, coming out from behind him and stepping inside the apartment. He glanced around the interior, and would have looked pretty intense with his formal attire if it hadn't been for the Jamba Juice in his hands. Nevertheless, he looked around as critically as possible with the eye of the artist, but his serious look faltered when his gaze landed on the painting. "You put up my painting!"

"Yeah, well," Taeyong muttered, smiling bashfully. "It was Mark's idea."

"It was," Mark agreed.

"Looking good, Mirage," Kai said approvingly, perusing the less-than-perfect decoration of his new place. "This reminds me of this one bar I used to sneak into as a kid, which would hand out liquor even to minors."

Taeyong blanched. "Maybe I should redecorate."

"Nonsense," Kai said cheerfully.

Taeyong blinked, his eyes glazing over for a moment, then scowled. "Are you trying to use your power on me?"

"Ooh, use it on me!" Jaemin exclaimed, almost vibrating at a higher frequency with excitement. "Make me comb my hair."

Kai opened his mouth, but Taeyong simply glowered at the boy. "Jaem, I'll make sure you do it without using my powers."

"Guys," said a deep, rumbling voice from the doorway. Taeyong glanced up to find Lucas leaning against the frame with one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, the other raised with keys dangling from his fingers. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "We're going to be late."

The reminded worked. Soon enough, the party of six had piled into the team's old mom van and were driving towards Nova Tower.

Upon arrival, Jaemin was first out of the car, almost knocking over a few potted plants in the lobby due to his excitement. Taeyong steadied him on their way to the elevator, reminding him that it had taken a lot of persuasion and string-pulling on his part to get Jaemin into the Supers' private floor, which seemed to quiet the pink-haired boy down a bit—but just a bit, and only for a short time. By the time they reached the top floor, he was already falling over his own feet in excitement again.

A somewhat-drunk Doyoung greeted them at the entrance, looking surprisingly bubbly for someone given to his...habits. He waved the Supers—and one non-Super—into the outdoor bar, almost handing Jaemin a glass of martini by accident. Taeyong grabbed the glass from his hands at the last moment, and a glare to accompany.

Hyuck seemed to pick up on the party mood as well as his skin picked up on the material of the object he was touching, though only the latter was a superpower. He whooped loudly and reached for a tall drink, only to find Sicheng blocking his way with a dry look and an intent look in his usually calm eyes.

"You're not supposed to be drinking, Hyuck," he said mildly, looking more amused than strict.

"Boo!" Yuta called from the other end of the bar, where he was already readying the drink gun for a grinning Kai. "Let the kid drink!"

Taeyong settled down on the low leather couches where they had once sat months ago, watching the trainees talk with a warmth in his eyes. Johnny, one of the Supers from C squad who had helped keep the building stable for two unlikely saviors many months ago, was relaying his emotions under the influence of good strong beer. "I thought I wouldn't be able to do it," he said, almost blubbering the words. Judging from his bleary eyes, he hadn't had just a drop of alcohol. "I mean, steadying a whole building? I had always been shitty at controlling my telekinesis, so I was sure I was gonna accidentally tear it down instead."

"Well," Taeyong said, "you didn't, did you?"

The corner of Johnny's mouth twitched. "I guess not," he muttered. "Hey, man—I know I've said this before, but I checked the building after we were done and I swear there were no bodies. If I had been able to find her, you know I would have, right? I would."

Taeyong's smile faltered. Maybe the C squad newbie wasn't as drunk as he looked. "I know," he said. "I know they're alive."

"The postcards," Jaehyun muttered. He hadn't touched the alcohol, something about bad experiences and how flying and drinking didn't mix. "How long has it been since you got the last one? Three weeks?"

The postcards had been a secret, so naturally every single one of the Supers knew about them. Every week or so, Ten or Taeyong would get a postcard addressed to them, varying in location of origin but always with a picture of one of the two defectors attached. Touring the world, apparently.

From over the rim of his glass, Ten met his eyes. "A month," the raven-haired man answered for him, finishing up the rest of his drink. His voice seemed subdued. "We haven't had another postcard for a month."

Taeyong didn't know if she was going to come back, but for the first time in a long time he found himself doubting it. A month was a long time. Maybe they'd moved on, or gotten bored, or simply decided it wasn't worth the effort and run away again.

"A month," Xiaojun repeated. His eyes looked troubled on their behalf. "You think—you think she's going to come back?"

Instantly he was greeted with various shushes and glares for bringing up the topic, and he flushed, receding into a corner of the couch. Taeyong, however, only smiled dryly. "I'm trusting her," was all he said.

From a few feet away, Baekhyun smiled warmly at the scene, feeling a pressure build up in his chest at the sight as he always did during their monthly conventions.

He turned away, finding Taemin standing away from the rest of the group with a faraway look in his eyes. The billionaire stood on the circular platform at the end of the pier, the floor lit up neon blue underneath his feet. He was leaning against the railing, champagne flute hanging from his lithe fingers, watching the group with a peaceful but fractured look in his eyes. As Baekhyun watched, his chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and Taemin turned away to look at the cityscape.

Putting aside his warmth for a moment, Baekhyun followed him up to the pier, looking down at the city beneath them. It had lit up again, blue and gold ribboning the streets like the car headlights were leaving ghosts of their light behind, turning the streets into living serpents snaking between the buildings nestled close together. The stars seemed to twinkle brighter than usual, but even their eternal glow looked washed-out in comparison to the lights of Capitol City.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Taemin murmured, champagne glass to his lips, even though he hadn't turned to see Baekhyun come up to him. The leader wasn't even surprised at this point. His eyes were glassy, like the calm he projected only hid a storm. It was barely hidden, anyway, after everything that had happened.

Baekhyun nodded in agreement, taking in the sight of the city like he was breathing in fresh air after being asphyxiated for long. It was as if the lights of the city were powering him up. All of those people, living their lives exactly as they had six months ago, as though nothing had ever happened. But Baekhyun knew better.

"You aren't going to join them?" he asked Taemin, leaning against the metal railing.

The corner of Taemin's mouth curled. "When has my answer to that been any different from the usual?" he replied dryly.

Baekhyun was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. He cleared his throat, feeling the words jam his voice for a moment. "You miss her?" he asked, his voice now gravelly.

Taemin didn't reply at first, and for a moment Baekhyun feared he had managed to shut off all conversation. Then the man sighed. "You need to start asking better questions," he murmured in reply. "Always, Baekhyun. Always."

The orange-haired man looked at him sadly for a brief moment before turning away, knowing the pity in his gaze was only going to make his friend uncomfortable. They had won, yes—but he thought of all they had lost. At what cost?

"Maybe she's still alive," he ventured.

Taemin chuckled, but it was without mirth. "Her body may still be," he agreed. "But falling in your own dimension—one which you had created with help, constructed in your own mind?" He side-eyed Baekhyun with a sad smile. "Baekhyun, old friend, I know you're clever, but it doesn't seem that way sometimes. Even if she lives, her mind would be destroyed."

Baekhyun did not know how to respond to that. Taemin had always been clipped and frank when the subject of Irene was brought up, but never so unemotionally biting. "Well," he mumbled, shrugging, "never lose hope?"

"Is that something you usually hope for?" Taemin raised an eyebrow. "For your mortal enemy to come back from the dead and once again wreak havoc upon all of humanity?"

Baekhyun stared at him for a moment. Then Taemin smiled, making him relax. "You had me for a moment," he muttered. Then he glanced back at the party, where everyone had gathered to depressed area around the round table. "You're really not going to come?"

Taemin shrugged. "I don't see why I should change tradition now."

"Maybe you shouldn't," Baekhyun muttered, starting towards the group. "But I have a feeling this time's going to be different."

He didn't look back, but a few seconds later Taemin was at his side, joining the assembled group of Supers—and one non-Super, again, one couldn't simply forget Jaemin—who had taken their respective seats around the table. Jaemin was seated on the arm of a couch, looking very pleased with himself for having infiltrated them.

"What are we toasting to today?" Baekhyun asked, strolling up to the group. He smiled at all of them, feeling the same brimming warmth in his chest like a cauldron had bubbled over in his heart. These were his Supers. His team. "To Jungwoo finally scoring making an unburnt chocolate cake?"

"It was singed so it doesn't count," Hyuck said, quietly sipping his soda.

Jungwoo gave him a discreet death glare.

"Maybe to Jaemin, Mark and Taeyong's now home," Lucas offered.

"Not just yet," Taeyong said with a smile. "We still have a lot of interior décor to finish up with."

"To those city thugs Yuta set on fire last week," Mark said. "Except...well...you did end up setting the whole building on fire."

Yuta shrugged, looking unapologetic. "Now that the serum's worn off, Mark, someone's gonna have to use fire powers enough for both of us."

"Perhaps...to friends?" Sicheng suggested.

The group seemed to sober up a little at that, and the fire crackled in the hearth loudly in the silence. Then Jaemin broke it just as quickly as it had appeared. "Too sentimental," he decided.

"To the video of Ten going invisible hitting ten million views on YouTube." Kai sat back, looking pleased with himself.

"To doing what we've always done," Ten announced, raising his glass, which was full of a bloodred liquid that made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows questioningly. "Saving the world."

"The world?" Taeyong echoed doubtfully, then smiled. "Yeah, well, we actually kind of do."

"To trying to save the world." Everyone looked at Taemin, who had spoken quietly. The billionaire raised his glass, and a hush fell over the room.

Taeyong was the first to follow. "To trying," he said reverently, following his move.

The elevator pinged.

Baekhyun glanced at it, frowning. Everyone tensed, readying themselves for battle the way they did whenever something unfamiliar came up. Hyuck almost toppled to the floor, getting up too fast.

The doors slid open, and Ten sucked in his breath.

For standing behind were no other than the same people they had last seen six months ago, an unlikely duo. The smiling man had on a simple button-down with the ends untucked, a surprising fashion statement when compared to his regal features—one might even say angelic.

"So," the other half of the two said. Her voice was nonchalant, as if they had never been gone at all, just two friends dropping in because they had been in the neighborhood. Taeyong's lips pulled into a smile. Her scar curved as she grinned, and it felt like the last piece had fallen into place, completing the incomplete. "Got room for two more in your party?"