I understand now, Joey. You didn’t ask anything of me you weren’t willing to give yourself. You truly would have died for everyone.

That was enough.

“Joaquim?”

“He’s awake,” someone said. It was a man’s voice, one I didn’t recognize.

I fought to open my eyes, but as before, my vision was off. All I could see were vague shapes, blurred and distorted, like looking into a funhouse mirror. My face felt strange, and all the little aches and pains I’d been suffering for the past however long (it felt like forever) were back. They were really back. I groaned.

“Hey, you,” another voice said, accompanied by a slight dip in whatever surface I was resting on as someone sat down on it. This voice, I recognized.

I turned my head toward her, managing to make out the faint shape of her. I both heard and felt the crinkle of bandages around my face, covering my left eye.

Covering my eye. I remembered Lord Dogknife’s claws, the ripping pain and the intense burning, the blood falling to the perfect white floor. Was my eye …? “Acacia,” I mumbled. “Where’s Joaquim?”

I felt her take my hand. “Joaquim died a long time ago, Joe. Remember? When FrostNight was first—”

“He is FrostNight,” I insisted. “He’s the consciousness of FrostNight. …”

Her hand squeezed mine. “Okay,” she said, and it sounded like she understood. After a moment, she spoke again. I could barely make out the sadness in her expression as she did. “Then you mean ‘was,’ Joe. FrostNight is gone.”

I took a breath, held it, let it out slowly. More of my vision cleared, enough that I could see her sitting next to me.

She looked like she’d been through hell. Her dark hair was tied back into a ponytail, and she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that was so thin and worn it had to have belonged to someone else first. The faded words said Alpha-Cen Med School. It looked comfortable. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing some of her injuries.

There were a dozen little cuts and bruises up and down both arms, half-healed ones from when she’d come crashing onto InterWorld and new ones from her fight with Lord Dogknife and Lady Indigo. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying.

My face itched. I reached up with my free hand to rub at it, watching her expression go from relieved to concerned as she watched me. “You shouldn’t touch it for a while,” she said. “While it heals.”

My fingers encountered the soft gauze and bandages, and she offered me a faint smile, hand tightening around mine.

“Will it heal?” I asked. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

“We did what we could, but the HEX hound’s claws were vicious,” the unfamiliar voice from before said, and I looked up to see a tall man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed goatee standing by my bed.

“Dad’s the best healer we’ve got,” Acacia said earnestly. “He really did the best he could, Joe.”

Dad?

I blinked up at the tall man, who was looking at his daughter with sympathy. There might have been a resemblance, but it was hard to tell with the facial hair. “I’m sure he did,” I mumbled reassuringly to Acacia. They’d done all they could. Did that mean they hadn’t been able to fix it? Had I lost my eye?

That would be ironic. The thought came unbidden to my mind, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. It seemed to be a nervous habit of mine, and one I should probably try to break.

“What happened?” I asked instead.

“We were all fighting,” Acacia said slowly. “And then you … ran into FrostNight.” She glared at me. “Which was stupid, and reckless …”

“Just tell me what happened.”

She glared for another moment, then continued. “I felt you gather us all up, but … I also felt FrostNight constrict. It fell in on itself, and I went back to find you. You were lying there, in the middle of the star.”

“He saved me,” I murmured. She just looked at me. “We were going to destroy FrostNight together. He must have pushed me out at the last minute.”

She hesitated, then squeezed my hand again. “That makes sense.”

I actually did laugh this time, but bitterly. “How does any of this make sense?”

Acacia glanced up at her father, then looked back to me. “Well … Binary are, of course, machines. They don’t understand things like souls and free will, so they wouldn’t have thought that Joaquim could do anything other than fulfill his directive. HEX does understand how souls work, but they believe themselves to have ultimate power over them … so they, also, could not have predicted Joaquim’s capacity for free will. You’re the one who showed him that, Joe. You showed him he had a choice, and by choosing to die”—her gaze got a bit more intense; I think she didn’t entirely approve of that decision—“you showed him that he, also, had a choice. And he chose to save you.”

I was surprised at how little I felt. I supposed I was probably in shock. I had expected to die, and in the end, Joaquim had saved me like I hadn’t been able to save him. I remained silent, thinking, remembering those last moments. Finally, I found another question.

“Where’s Hue?”

“Well,” Acacia’s father said, “that’s the other thing. The MDLF seems to have taken up permanent residence inside your body, and we have been unable to extract him.”

“Extract …?”

“When you were expelled from FrostNight, you were one. It seems you still are, and I am not certain it can be undone. Beyond that, I believe he is helping to heal your eye.”

I frowned, then immediately winced as the expression pulled at the skin around my eyes. Hue was bound with me? And was helping to heal my eye? He’d never shown any kind of healing ability before. And he’d taken up permanent residence inside my body?

Hue? I thought, but got no response. I was aware of him now that I concentrated, dimly, but …

To distract myself, I looked around.

I was obviously in an infirmary, but an unfamiliar one. There were some machines I recognized and others I didn’t at all, and the overall color scheme was odd for an infirmary. Instead of the stark white I was used to, there were mahogany wood cabinets, pinkish marble floors, beige walls. Despite my not recognizing the room, something about it was naggingly familiar.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“TimeWatch,” Acacia said. “Sick bay.”

That would explain the familiar colors. I’d been to TimeWatch once before, when Acacia had taken me captive. …

“I’m not a prisoner, am I?”

She at least had the grace to look vaguely embarrassed at the reminder. “No,” she said pointedly, setting her shoulders and lifting her chin. “And you weren’t a prisoner before, I was just trying to—”

“I’m teasing you,” I interrupted. “Settle down. Where is everyone else?” I asked, suddenly worried for my friends. I remembered sending them all off to InterWorld, but … “Are they okay?”

“They’re here,” she reassured me, nodding. “They’re all down at the docks. We’re getting your ship fixed up,” she added with a smile.

“My ship …?”

“InterWorld,” she clarified. “Duh.”

“You really just said duh.”

“Yeah, I did. I’m a Time Agent, I can use whatever slang I want.”

“I’m glad to see you feeling better, young man,” her father interrupted, and we both quieted. “But I do have other patients to attend to. You are free to go, with an escort, and the bracelet on your wrist can be used to call for medical aid if you need it.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” Acacia said, and he smoothed her hair back affectionately as he went by. My heart ached.

“Thank you,” I managed. I waited until he was gone, then lowered my voice. “Is that really your father?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “And my mother is currently on deck, and Avery is really my brother.” I was going to ask her what “on deck” meant, but her smile faded and she glanced off toward another of the hospital beds. I followed her gaze, noting the sheathed sword leaning up against the wall near the headboard. I couldn’t see who occupied the bed, but by the sword, I assumed it to be Avery.

“Is he okay?” I asked. She bit her lip, forehead wrinkling as her eyes watered.

“Probably,” she said, her voice tight. “Dad’s taking really good care of him. I’m just … we lose people all the time.”

“I know how that is,” I said.

“I know you do.” She took my hand again.

“Is he your only sibling?” I asked after a moment. I was genuinely curious; I had wondered, once, if TimeWatch was an organization made up of Acacias like InterWorld was made up of Joeys, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“No,” she said, looking a little happier. “I have an older sister and a younger one. And a ton of aunts and uncles and cousins.”

“So, TimeWatch is basically … just your whole family?”

“It’s a few different families. Mine, and a couple of others. They aren’t exactly my cousins. … It’s hard to explain. Suffice to say you aren’t the only one with other versions of you running around.”

“Oh, no,” I said. When she looked at me quizzically, I squinched my face carefully into an expression of distaste. “There’s more than one of you?”

“You’re a jerk,” she told me.

“Am not,” I said. “I’ve just had a bad … everything.” The truth of it hit me and I looked away, recalling how much I’d been through and how much I still had to grieve for. “Acacia … when you found your way back to InterWorld and Avery said you were out of sync with our timestream, or whatever … When you told me my world was in FrostNight’s path …” I started. She hung her head. “You said you’d try to help,” I continued, tilting my head to try to look into her eyes. “You said TimeWatch would help, and you didn’t—”

“We did,” she said sharply, lifting her head again. “My aunt died there. She did everything she could.”

I felt a little better knowing they’d tried, and also felt bad that she’d lost someone there, too—was that what I’d seen in all the chaos, when I thought there had been a woman there with the Old Man?—but I was still upset that whatever they’d done hadn’t helped. “It was still destroyed. I’m sorry you lost your aunt, but what did she do, exactly?”

“She reversed it,” Acacia snapped, trying to pull her hand from mine. I let her, keeping my expression calm, to reassure her I just wanted answers. “She couldn’t actually stop FrostNight from wiping the world clean, but she created a custom timestream for it. It’ll run parallel to the anchor, now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means it was restarted rather than destroyed, and it’ll progress faster than others of its timestream would as compared to a fixed point.”

“The anchor.”

“Yes.”

“And what’s the anchor?”

“You,” she said, meeting my gaze.

I took a moment to let that sink in. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“So … my planet was restarted.”

“Yes. And things should progress on it, barring outside interference—which we will work to ensure—exactly as they did previously.”

I sat there in silence, digesting this. My world was not dead, but technically, my family still was. Technically, everything was … but it wouldn’t always be. Things would live again. My family would live again, someday.

It wasn’t much comfort, really, but it was something.

“I’m sorry about your aunt,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I’ll miss her. I wish you could have met her. She knew Captain Harker.”

“Really,” I asked, but it wasn’t a question.

“Mhm,” she said. I felt like a couple of different mysteries were on the verge of being solved here, but I was too tired to examine them closely. All I knew was that I was here, and relatively safe, and InterWorld was here, too. Joaquim had come through in the end, saving me and sacrificing himself. HEX and Binary were crippled for a while, at least, and we were getting a boost in technology from TimeWatch.

None of that made up for how many lives had been lost. But then, nothing ever would.

“Mom wanted to talk to you when you were up for it,” Acacia said.

“I’m up for it,” I told her. Honestly, I had some questions of my own.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve been in bed for days.”

“Two days,” she said. “To be exact.”

I pushed the covers back, moving my legs carefully over the side of the bed. I was wearing clothing I didn’t recognize, but it was comfortable and clean, which was a big plus. “Yeah, I’m definitely ready to get up.”

“I don’t know if you should yet, Joe.”

“Your father said I’m free to move around,” I said.

“With an escort,” she reminded me, giving another smile. “I guess it’s my turn to play tour guide, huh?”

“Sure is,” I said. “Just warn me in advance if you’re going to do any abrupt time-warping, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, helping me stand. “Where to?” she asked, once I’d found my balance.

“The docks,” I said. “I want to see my ship.”

The docks of TimeWatch were a lot like I’d have expected; half a dozen long wooden walkways extending off into the distance, with various types of ships from all different cultures and time periods docked at them. It was odd to see InterWorld (which was big enough to house more than five hundred people) tied to someone else’s dock like some little dinghy. It was huge, easily one of the largest ships there, and it was still dwarfed by the sheer scale of TimeWatch.

Acacia and I stood on a platform overlooking everything. Beneath the docks was an ocean of something other than water; it looked more like a nebula, with swirls of deep blue and green and white, and sparkles of little stars like sea foam. The sky was that beautiful amalgamation of colors and galaxies I’d seen when I’d first been to TimeWatch.

It was like there were a million skies all mashed up into one, the sun rising and setting multiple times in minutes, in a hundred different places. There were moons and stars and clouds and fog, all sharing the same sky. It had been beautiful before, when I’d been a prisoner uncertain of my fate. Now, standing here overlooking it as a guest assured of his safety, it was breathtaking.

My ship was all lit up, warm and inviting like lights seen through the windows of a familiar house. She sat amid the waves of stars, making little ripples as people moved off and on, carrying supplies and machinery. Some of those people were obviously my friends, the Walkers who’d made it out of the fight unscathed, and others must have been the other TimeWatch families Acacia had mentioned. It was refreshing to see so many people who weren’t me.

Acacia and I stood there for a while, watching everyone move about below us. I still felt incomplete, somehow, like things hadn’t been entirely resolved. Like it was all so unfinished. I didn’t feel accomplished, like I had actually saved anyone. In the end, Joaquim had been the one to make the sacrifice that saved us, and I couldn’t give him the recognition he deserved for it.

“There’s Mom,” Acacia said finally, pointing. “And that’s my little sister with her.”

I looked where she indicated, picking out a dark-haired woman in a long coat standing with a clipboard in her hand. A younger girl stood next to her, something in her hands occasionally flashing white and lighting up her surroundings.

“Lead the way,” I said, though she wound up having to physically lead me, as trying to navigate the long stairway with only one working eye proved a lot more difficult than I’d thought. My depth perception was way off, and I took a few of the steps harder than I meant to by misjudging the distance. By the time we got to the bottom, my ribs were aching again from the jarring missteps.

“Mom,” Acacia called, and the woman turned. As expected, she looked a lot like an older Acacia; they had the same jaw, same nose, same violet eyes. Her hair was lighter, though, and her face was subtly different. Not her smile, though. Her smile was the same.

“Joseph Harker,” she said, tucking her clipboard under one arm and offering me her hand. I took it. Instead of shaking, she covered it with her other hand, the gesture surprisingly warm. I thought of my own mother, and swallowed.

“Hi,” I said, glancing down at the little girl peering around from behind her mother. She, also, bore a slight resemblance to Acacia.

“I’m Deana,” Acacia’s mother said, releasing my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” I said awkwardly, stumbling over the niceties, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was already turning toward InterWorld and looking down at her clipboard again. I caught a glimpse of what looked like blueprints and a lot of technical words even I didn’t recognize.

“She’s almost ready for you, Captain Harker,” Deana said, and I tried not to cringe.

“I—I’m not—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted. “With the death of Captain Joseph Harker Omega, you most certainly are the new captain of InterWorld.”

“Joseph … Omega?” I asked. She shrugged.

“We have our own classifications to keep everything straight.” Before I could respond to that, she started walking. She kept talking, too, obviously expecting me to follow. I did.

“We’re making some upgrades,” she continued, pointing a long silver pen toward InterWorld. “Mainly in your security system, since there was obviously a breach. Two, at least, which is why—”

“Mrs. Jones,” I interrupted. “Can you tell me—”

“Call me Deana.”

“What happened to this InterWorld? Why it was abandoned?”

She stopped walking again, regarding me with kind amusement. Then she glanced past me, at Acacia. “All the questions he could ask, and he asks about something that doesn’t concern him.”

Acacia smiled and shrugged. “It concerns InterWorld, which means it concerns him.”

“That event occurs tens of thousands of years in the future, Joseph,” Deana said.

“Time isn’t static,” I said, repeating something I remembered Acacia saying. “That event may have already occurred in the future, but that doesn’t mean it won’t affect me.”

Her expression changed. She looked at me for a long, uncomfortable moment, and I recalled something Jay had said a long time ago about how it was TimeWatch’s job to make sure the future happens as it’s supposed to, and how they could erase me if it became necessary. …

Then she looked at Acacia again, who cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Mom, uh …”

“You’re grounded,” her mother said, and the girl behind her giggled. Acacia’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open in faint outrage.

“You’re kidding me,” Acacia said, and Deana laughed.

“Yes, I am kidding. Your brother already told me how much Joseph knows about time, in part due to the MDLF,” Deana explained, looking down at her clipboard again. “To that end, the council has decided to appoint an official liaison on his missions.” She glanced at me. “No offense, but someone has to make sure he doesn’t inadvertently mess up the timestreams.”

I shrugged. Acacia blinked.

“A liaison?”

“Yes,” her mother said. “Go pack.”

I looked at Acacia. She looked at me and abruptly broke into a wide grin. “That means I get to tell you what to do,” she said.

“No, it means you get to tell me what not to do, and it doesn’t mean I’ll listen,” I said. I was mostly teasing her back, but something about this arrangement still rubbed me the wrong way. “Assuming I even accept this deal.”

Deana gave me an amused look. “Assuming you accept?”

“You just said this is my ship. Like it or not, that means I’m in charge of InterWorld and everyone in it, and continuing the fight against Binary and HEX. I have enough on my plate without having to worry about TimeWatch telling me what I can or can’t do. If you’re so bent on controlling us, why don’t you take over the fight?”

“We have our own problems,” Acacia began heatedly, but Deana put a hand on her shoulder.

“I understand how you feel, Joseph. And Acacia is right. The fact is, our problems just became your problems.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Acacia was also looking at her mother curiously.

“I assume my husband told you of the anomaly that bound you to the MDLF?” she asked. I hesitated, but nodded. I still wasn’t entirely clear on how it happened, but at least I knew what she was talking about. “This same anomaly occurred with the Techs and the Mages, what you know as Binary and HEX. Not with all of them, but with enough. There are a few now who share the characteristics of both, and these are more dangerous than anything you have ever faced—with the exception, I suppose, of FrostNight itself.”

Acacia’s eyes widened again. “You mean the …?”

“Techmaturges,” I said, feeling my stomach descend about to my knees.

“Or something like them,” Deana corrected. “They are not exactly the creatures we have faced, but they share some similar abilities. Acacia will be able to help you against them.”

I looked at Acacia. She looked slightly less sure about this whole idea now. Her mother reached out to tuck some of her hair back, where it had come loose from her ponytail. “You’ve studied the most about this timestream, sweetie,” she said. “And your brother will take a while to recover. You’re the best choice for this mission—everyone thinks so. And you’re a Time Agent, Casey. You can come see us whenever you want to.”

Acacia visibly cringed at the use of the nickname, scrunching up her face. I couldn’t help it; I laughed at her, and she turned a furious glare on me. “I’ll slap you again,” she warned, and I smiled, remembering how she’d hugged me after.

“Would I get a hug again, if I let you?”

“No.” She glared, but then she stepped forward and hugged me anyway. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I knew I was glad to have her in my arms—I was honestly afraid her coming on this mission with me would ruin any chance we had of an actual friendship. Frankly, I hoped hugging her now would help calm me in the future, when I’d inevitably have moments of wanting to strangle her. By the way she sighed, she was likely thinking the same thing.

There was a sudden flash of bright light, and Acacia pulled abruptly back. “Paisley!” she exclaimed, and her sister giggled again. I glanced down at the girl; she was holding what seemed to be an old-fashioned Polaroid camera, which explained the bright lights I’d seen before. She’d been taking pictures of everyone fixing up InterWorld.

Paisley stepped shyly up to me, offering the developing picture. It was white, the chemicals still oxidizing on the film. “Casey hates pictures,” she said as I took it from her.

“I also hate that nickname!” Acacia said, reaching for her sister. Paisley ducked and ran off, Acacia not far behind. Deana turned to watch them go, smiling, and then gestured to the photograph.

“You should keep that,” she said. I tucked it carefully into my pocket, still looking at her.

“Did you know the Old Man?” I asked. I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be.

“Yes,” she said. “We all did, but my sister knew him best.”

“Acacia said her aunt died on my world,” I said. Deana nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Acacia—my sister, my daughter’s namesake—wasn’t sorry. She waited all that time to be able to see him again.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why couldn’t they see each other?”

“I hope you never find out,” she said, handing me the clipboard. “Go on inside,” she said, before I could ask again. “I have a few other things to look into, and you have to start restructuring your teams. InterWorld will be ready to go by the end of the day.”

She turned and walked away, leaving me with a clipboard I didn’t understand and a head full of questions and worries. TimeWatch was like that. I remembered the last part of the Old Man’s message, the one he’d had Jaroux record for me. It’s worth it, he’d said. I wondered if he’d still say so, now.

I moved hesitantly toward InterWorld, unsure of what else to do. My feet did most of the work for me, taking me up the ramp and through the halls without the conscious direction of my mind. I still felt incomplete, like something was missing. I supposed I’d always feel that way. No one had ever said this job was going to be easy.

I walked through the halls, returning the nods and greetings from my fellow Walkers, the infrequent handshakes and even less frequent hugs. No one questioned where I was going; the Old Man’s office was mine now, like it or not, and I had work to do. The former members of my team would be officers; they could each take command of their own teams, although I might want to keep Jai as a senior field officer rather than a team leader. Either that, or only assign him Walkers like J/O (and the thought of him immediately brought on another pang of sadness), who had dictionary chips installed in their brains. There had to be others like him out there.

The Old Man’s office was just as I’d set it up before leaving to deal with FrostNight, though cleaner. Two of the long silver boxes that now contained all the memories from the Wall were used to hold up the massive slab of marble that served as a desk. The others lined the walls, some with padding and cushions to be used as a couch, others used as the base for bookshelves. Morbid as it was, it suited. These memories and the responsibilities that came with them would be mine alone.

I stared at the chair sitting behind the massive desk. I crossed around to stand near it, facing the door. I imagined how this must have looked from the Old Man’s point of view, when Walkers came in to debrief after a mission. I wondered if I would ever live that long and get that old. I wondered if young Walkers would fear and respect me the way we had him.

I touched a finger to the surface, watching Josetta’s message appear. It was dimmer than it had been; I probably had about a week before it would vanish entirely. I supposed that was for the best, really. It would be a little distracting if it appeared every time I touched my desk.

I slid open a drawer from the standing file cabinet, staring at the stacks of neat office supplies. The contents of the drawer were different from the last time I’d stood here and looked into it, but of course they were; this desk had belonged to someone else. Just like it now belonged to me.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the picture Acacia’s sister had taken of us. It was an actual image now, clear and sharp, Acacia standing with her arms around me and her head resting on my shoulder. She looked sad and hopeful.

As for me, I was a man I didn’t recognize. I was tall and strong, my wavy red hair long enough to not look as silly as usual. There were white bandages circling my head and covering one eye, and I looked completely comfortable with the girl in my arms. More than that, I looked determined. I looked wise, like my father—and hard, like the Old Man.

I pulled a pen from the drawer, clicking it open and flipping the picture over. Feeling a little silly, I scribbled on the white part of the Polaroid and stuck it in the back of the drawer.

I left the office, taking Deana’s clipboard with me. I wasn’t ready to sit there yet, wasn’t ready to outline the teams that would be going out and risking their lives to find more of us. I would have to be, later, but for now I would walk the ship. The clipboard detailed more things that needed to be done, and a few of them were things I could do on my own; it suggested an overhaul of the voice recognition and command system, for one.

I walked back through the halls the way I’d come, heading toward the infirmary. The ship was powered up, and I was sure there’d be a few of my friends recuperating here rather than in TimeWatch’s sick bay. I was afraid to find out how many of us weren’t there, how many hadn’t survived the final fight. It was bound to be at least a few, but it always was. It was part of what we signed up for when we came in.

The walls leading up to the infirmary were stark silver, still empty and echoing. I ran my hand absently along them as I walked, feeling the smooth metal pass beneath my hand. This was where the memories of the fallen had been, before I’d taken them down. I’d wanted to give the new recruits a fresh start, to not weigh them down with the memories of those who’d lived and died long after us, still fighting the same war.

This would be a new war, now. The game had changed. Before, I was fighting HEX and Binary to keep my world safe; I was fighting because all the other versions of me were, too, and I could do no less than them. Now I would be leading them, and recruiting more—taking them from their families and giving them the option to fight for their worlds. I wasn’t the hero who had saved everyone; I was the cautionary tale, the man who had watched his world die. It was my job now to guide the others in fighting for theirs.

My hand went unbidden up to the chain around my neck, to the pendant I always wore. My mother had made it for me before I’d left home; it was all I had of her now.

I reached up to the clasp behind my neck, unclipping it. I held up the necklace and admired the way the stone caught the light, the black fading to blue and green. It reminded me of the galaxy ocean we floated on, the green of the grass in the park and the blue of the Silver Dream. Of FrostNight. Of Joaquim.

The wall near the infirmary door was patterned with holes from whatever battle had taken place here far in the future, the metal rippled and bent from blaster shots. In one place, it was broken outward enough to form a small hook. I reached up, wrapping the chain around the small bit of metal.

I remembered the Old Man in his last moments, standing there under the tree house. I remembered how peaceful he had looked, and what Acacia had said about my world being restarted. I understood now why he’d been smiling. The world I’d known had died, as everything did eventually—as I had been ready to do, if it meant saving the Multiverse. But it had also lived again, as I had. As my family eventually would.

I had started this to keep my world safe. The war might have changed, but that hadn’t.

“Hey, Joe,” Acacia’s voice came over the com system. “They restarted all the command systems, and the only voice the software’s recognizing is mine. You’d better get up here before I pull a one-woman mutiny and take over the ship!”

I sighed, reaching up to touch the smooth stone of the necklace. “You’d’ve liked her, Mom,” I said. “Though I’m still not sure if I do.” A warm feeling flooded through me at that; I could easily imagine my mother’s knowing smile as the lie left my lips.

The engines rumbled to life beneath me as I turned to make my way up to the engine room. Even now, my world was growing, forming oceans and trees and clouds. Where it had been like a parent to me, now I saw it as a child. I could still take care of it, still ensure it a long life. I could still protect it. And maybe, if I lived long enough, I could see my family again.