Below the surface of Empire City, Haven boomed. People cheered and paraded around all of Zone 2. They sang, danced, and had tons of foods out. Some even recklessly fired off some of Snap’s fireworks. At the heart of it were the Groundhogs, all being cheered on at the mouth of the subway station. Xole couldn’t help but stiffen up a little at all of the praise. Then, a hand patted his back.

  “Stand stall, young one,” Abbas said, “They’re cheering for you.”

  “C’mon, don’t say that.” He said, waving his hand quickly, “They’re obviously talking about you guys.”

  “I’m not so sure. Last I checked, the others couldn’t stop talking about your feats in retrieving Skinner and at the Head Precinct.”

  “Huh?” Xole’s head shot around to see Salamander, Trix, and Sunshine all talking with the nearby people, occasionally gesturing to him. Now his face was red, “Hey guys! You know you were there too, right?!” he said.

  The large man let out a rumbling chuckle. Skinner wandered around while Sammy yawned, falling asleep at the Groundwater stand, mug in his hand. Johnny, who sat next to him, sighed and drank his fill. Xole looked on, noticing Patchwork was already leaving, “Hey, Patchwork!” he said, “Where you going?”

  “My office,” he replied flatly, “I just patched you an almost everyone here up on the train, remember> No to mention not all of us are able to celebrate right now.”

  “Oh,” Xole’s head dipped, remembering Spit-take. He shook it, “In that case I just hope we’ve made him proud with what—”

  “Who the hell do y’all think you’re talking about, I ain’t dead yet!!” a voice boomed.

  The two spun their head in shock to see ski cap-less man hobble in with a limp. Xole had to blink several times, “Spit-take you’re…you’re back!”

  “Like I said, I never went anywhere!” he laughed, then started coughing. “Damn, feel like Salamander right now.”

  “Because your body’s still recovering,” Patchwork said, grimacing, “I literally wrote on a nice large white board directions for you in case you were to wake up. None of which, mind you, involved getting up to walk!”

  Resting his hand against the Groundwater stand, Spit-take sat on one of the vacant chairs, holding up a finger. “Mr. Citrus, the usual.”

  Smiling, the old man handed a cup to him, then another two to Xole and Patchwork, all of them clinking tier cups together. Spit-take took a gulp along with the doctor. Xole nearly took a gulp too, before catching the old man smiling at him wiggling his toes. He quickly put it down and whipped his mouth, nodding, “Hmm, good!”

  Spit-take slammed his empty cup on the table. “Whew! So how’d it go out there, kid? I hear you leveled up your Talent while I wasn’t looking, even taking out the police chief!”

  “Yeah, pretty much. It was a little hard but—”

  “Nah, your still in that ole’ ‘humble’ phase.” The man said, itching the top if his head. Xole couldn’t help but stare at his balding light haired head. He looked like an entirely different person without his ski cap.

  “Your cap…” he said.

  “Oh,” The man’s face turned glum. He looked off, rubbing the top of his head. “It was a gift from an old friend, Big John. As embarrassing as it is, I figured with him gone ‘might as well let the hat rest to. Heh, heh.”

  “But…don’t you think he’s want you to keep it? Y’know as sort of a memento?”

  The man shook his head. “Never was a fan of all that stuff.” He looked at the older boy, “I prefer to look ahead, not back.”

  Xole thought about his words, nearly taking a sip if Salamander hadn’t shown up from behind them, laughing and cackling, “Ha, ha! Well look whose outta bed! Ey, where’s ya night cap?”

  Spit-take forced a smile, shaking his head, “Retired. You should follow suit.”

  “Heh,” Salamander glanced at the man, then, the top of his head, “Ya really shouldn’t be talkin’ with yo’ head lookin’ like dat…”

  “Ahem,” Trix said, appearing at the man’s side and nudging his arm, “Michael, remember why you came here?”

  “Uh…oh, yeah!” He turned his attention to Xole, slapping a hand on the table next to him. “Kid I uh…well it was really Trix’s idea—”

  “No it wasn’t.” she smiled.

  “Well like I uh, said about da thing, uh…” he looked at the confused group, even Mr. Curtis seemed puzzled. Salamander cleared his throat loudly, “You gonna drink dat?”

  Before Xole could respond, the man grabbed his cup and downed the juice in one gulp, burping loudly. “Whew! Aight, what was I gonna say again?”

  Spit-take and Patchwork both shared confused glances. The ski cap-less man gave him a look, “You sure you don’t need to be checked out? You’re sounding worse than Skinner right now.”

  “I’m fine!” he proclaimed, “Just a lil’ off, dats all.”

  Trix sighed, “After a brief discussion, Salamander suggests we speak to you about what happened in the precinct earlier, Xole.”

  “Um, okay?” he said, “About what?”

  “About dose guys I roasted, alright?!” he said, throwing his arms to the side.

  Patchwork nearly chuckled, “You know, if you wanted to apologize—”

  “Whoa, whoa, no” the man shook his head and wagged his finger, “Don’t get me wrong now, I ain’t sayin’ sorry fo’ shit!” he looked back at Xole, nearly lighting a cigar, but deciding to return it to his coat pocket, “Kid, what I will say is dat it sucks ya had ta see dat, and I mean it from da bottom of my heart.”

  Xole pressed his lips together, “You still didn’t have to kill them. They were innocent people, Salamander.”

  The smoker looked down briefly before smacking the older boy’s shoulder, “Well, just puttin’ it out dere.” With a quick pivot, he left, taking out his cigar. Shaking her own head, Trix took a seat next to Xole, catching a cup of Groundwater as it slid to her.

  “He means best, Xole.” she said, taking a sip, “It’s just his delivery that needs work.”

  “I mean I get that…I think.” He said, “But I can’t see it being any less wrong.”

  The woman looked into his eyes, staring. Xole began to feel uncomfortable. He looked to Spit-take or Patchwork to say something, but the two were nowhere to be seen. Even Mr. Citrus had vanished.

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  “Xole,” she said, “How much do we really know about you?”

  “…” he sighed, “A little less than myself I guess.”

  “Hmm,” she said, looking off, “Would you perhaps like to hear a story?”

  “I mean…I guess.” He said, “Though I’m not really sure what it has to do with this…”

  She giggled, “My brother, Skinner. Did you know he could never keep a rat? Not even the ones infesting the shelter we lived in.”

  Xole looked over at her brother, who had to rats scratching his face while a dozen ran around at his feet, “That guy?!”

  She nodded, “When he began collecting rats, it took him a long time to discover they were more scared of him than he could be of them, even with their large numbers. Why do you think this was, Xole?”

  Xole shrugged, “He was bigger. That’s why most pest and small creatures run from us anyways, right?”

  She smiled, “You’re not completely wrong, but what if I were to tell you that it’s not just the small creatures, but the big ones too?”

  Now Xole was confused, “That…doesn’t really make sense.”

  The woman giggled again, though her smile faded, “One the surface I can see why. But when you look closer, it’s rather clear. Dominance.”

  “As in, the dominate species?”

  She nodded, her eyes falling slowly to the table, “Humans are aggressive, merciless, cunning, and above all completely unpredictable. When they want something, they stop at no ends to get it, their power, their influence, all second to none. Animals can see this difference and it scares them because they’ve been on the brunt of it since they could distinguish each other as different. No matter who they see, what that person may present, that feeling will always be there because of what they’ve done, Xole, from the tallest of apex predators, to the smallest of pest. Animals learned to fear people for their own survival.” She paused, staring into her cup, feeling the scars around her mouth again. “Michael is that rat, and so are we, because the people up there will never lower themselves to that of a rodent.”

  Xole looked at the woman, who had dozed off now, staring at the rest of the festivities in Haven. After a pause, he took a breath, “So how did Skinner get so good with rats then?”

  Trix’s smile returned, “One day, he went on all fours and followed them around for weeks, essentially living with them!” she giggled again, “In short I probably talked your ear off when I could’ve just agreed form the beginning; he is bigger.”

  “No…I appreciate the talk, really.” Xole said. The woman stood from her seat, leaving her empty cup on the table and patting Xole’s shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. Xole got up himself, leaving the booth. He took no more than two steps before a group of giddy looking kids surrounded him.

  “Hey, it’s you!” one said, “You the spirit boy!”

  “Huh?” Xole said, “Is that what they’re calling me?”

  “Yeah! You the guy who saved Skinner and took out the enemy leader, everyone’s talkin’ about ya!” he picked his nose, “Ooh! Say, can ya use your Talent on me?”

  “What—heck no!” he said waving both his hands, “I’m not even that good with it yet.”

  “Spit-Take was right,” a girl with a rag doll said, “he’s both humble and kinda cute!”

  Xole gulped, “Um, how old are you?”

  “Don’t mind these losers!” A fat kid said breaking his way to the front. He aimed his thumb at himself, “I’m Dimples, your new sidekick!”

  “Huh? Well I’ve never had sidekick before…”

  “Of course you’d pick the lame one, Dimp!” a girl in the rugged sweater said, “I’ll stick with Snap, thank you very much!”

  ‘That reaction seems about normal,’ Xole thought with a nod.

  “Then you two can blow each other to kingdom come!” he said, “Then we’ll put your pieces back together with our cool Spiritual talents!” he said, doing bunch of hand gestures.

  “That’s nasty,” the first boy said, still picking his nose.

  “Hey!” Snap’s voice said, strutting in, “Who said all I do is blow stuff up?”

  “But isn’t that you’re Talent?”

  “…” Snap spun around, “Xole! Glad I caught you—hi runts—we need to get to Prime Hill, now!”

  Xole looked confused, “Is there something going on?”

  “No one told you? Abbas is making a speech to all of Haven!”

  “Now?!” Xole said.

  “Right exactly now, and we gonna need all of ya,” He grabbed Xole by the arm, “Especially you. Now c’mon we can’t be late!”

  “Ooh!” the girl in the sweater squealed, “Can we go too?”

  “Ha!” Snap laughed, “If you’re quick enough. Now c’mon, Xole!”

  Before Xole could say anything, he was swiftly snatched away by the young man and rushed all the way to the other side of Zone 2 to the base of Prime Hill. He was greeted by a large wooden stage and chairs where the rest of the Groundhogs sat. A few feet below that were the hundreds of inhabitants of Haven mixed with the new people, all waiting in anticipation. Xole could feel a bead of sweat run down his back as their excited eyes caught him, breaking into flurries of whispers.

  “You made it, young one.” Abbas said stepping onto the stage, creaking under his weight. He gestured to the chairs, “Go ahead and have a seat. This will be important.”

  Xole and Snap took a seat along with the rest of the Groundhogs, who were bunched into a tight group with Skinner sitting legs crisscross on the platform itself. Abbas stepped before the microphone, raising his arms to silence the murmurings of the crowd.

  “My friends, I have dreamt many moons ago of an age filled with hope.” His deep voice echoed. “An age filled with joy and happiness, that one day we can truly change the world and put an end to this Collared evil. I’ve led us over many walls but one—in hopes that when conquered, every soul in this room will be blessed with true equality.” He turned and pointed to Xole, everyone’s attention on the shocked older boy. “Well my friends, that age begins today with our newest addition to the Groundhogs!”

  The crowd erupted in cheering, the looks of worry and fear turned to smiles and laughter as people hugged, threw things in the air and leaped for joy, even the dogs were back to barking. Xole on the other hand felt his blood run cold, ‘Wait hold on, I’m a…Groundhog?’

  “It fills my heart to bear good news to you all in the form of this child. A child who not only possess the Spiritual Talent, but the same child who is responsible for the great renascence we’ve experienced. Beginning with the removal of the White Collars plaguing our City, to the destruction of the Blue Collar’s Bodily division, we cornered them but we weren’t done yet. Tonight I am pleased to announce that we have completely toppled their base of operations, the Head Precinct of Empire City!” the crowd began to cheering as Abbas went on, “So, Xole, on behalf of all of Haven, and from the bottom of my heart, we thank you.”

  The crowd cheered on even louder, “SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!”

  Xole almost wet himself.

  Spit-Take tapped him on the back, “Looks like their calling you, kid.”

  “Ha, ha! Make it good!” Salamander laughed.

  “I can tell your beginning to stress your respiratory system. Keep it up and heart failure is next.” Patchwork said.

  Skinner gave a thumbs up, “You got this…”

  “Xole is the other way Skinner!” Trix hissed.

  Xole slowly raised himself from his chair to his quivering knees, which dragged him the short few feet from his chair to Abbas. His shaking head titling in the large man’s direction, “Ab-b-b-bas…do I have to?”

  He nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Never mind them or even myself.” He tapped the boy’s chest, “Speak for yourself, young one.”

  Leaving him at the microphone, Xole tapped it a few times, remembering what he’s seen at school assemblies to buy time.

  “…H-hi everybody,” he said, “I hope you—you’re all having a…wonderful night…heh, heh…”

  He trailed off, the crowd’s faces growing confused. He cleared his throat.

  “It’s been a rough few nights…actually past month—for me at least. Hopefully not the rest of you because we…we did a lot of really cool stuff and....uh…”

  Again, his voice trailed off. The crowd grew more confused, a few even looking skeptical. With a short breath, he spun to leave the stage only to see the Groundhogs all sitting behind him watching, their faces remained the same. Shaking his head, he faced the crowd again.

  “I just wanna start by saying thank you to you guys,” he said, getting a few claps and a cheer, “before this week I always had a…idea of what a home was, I thought it was a place where you could go and feel welcome, appreciated. And while I wasn’t wrong about that, I was wrong about my experience at my previous home. Down here, I’ve learned so much more by experiencing true family. I’ve grown—a lot—faced fears, saw so much, made bonds and…and cut some. But the point is I’d never trade any of what I lost for my time here because I’m proud, of the Groundhogs, you all, but mainly myself. If I hadn’t come here I…I honestly don’t know what I’d do. So really it should be me saying it to you all…thank you.”

  “…”

  Haven was silent. Xole stood in what felt like a void, as if someone had just died. Then he heard a clap, a single one for the front center where Mr. Citrus was standing. There was another where Dimples was, followed by the rest of the kids, then a middle aged woman, and the leather jacket man, followed by more, and more, until the entire zone had burst in to cheers even louder and more deafening. Xole looked back to see the Groundhogs clapping, while Abbas just smiled on and nodded. Looking ahead Xole watched the crowd cheer, his own face beginning to smile at the overwhelming admiration. He nodded, feeling his fist pump and eyes swell, but he didn’t cry, he just continued to smile.

  ‘I’m home,” he thought.

  Everyone cheered, so caught up that no one noticed the one individual near the back, refusing to neither smile nor clap. A young man in an old smelly flannel, holed jeans, and a kufi…