Gifted | Sleepy Bois Inc

Epilogue

"--- found outside Sweet Bean's Café, a popular café shop towards the left of Legacy Park. Police are on the scene, but Tryxel is shielding the site from visitors. Philza, one of the three Heads of Tryxel, is expected to give an official statement in half an hour."

George shut off the news and frowned. He slumped back in his armchair and stared up at the ceiling, silently counting the ash flecks on the white surface.

Smiley is dead.

The words sounded wrong, even to him. How could Smiley be dead? He had been so powerful and stubborn, sometimes to a fault. Brave. Just like---

"I told you it wasn't him."

George glanced over his shoulder. The speaker was sitting on an armchair just behind his own, one foot propped up, casually flicking through a magazine he had picked up somewhere, with the cover showing a panda sitting in the middle of a bamboo forest.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

The boy met his eyes. "I said, I told you it wasn't him. The hair color was wrong. The personality was wrong. Everything was wrong, and yet you still---"

"I know!" George said sharply, cutting him off. He sighed. "I know. Please, Sapnap, I do know. But..."

"But you hoped," the boy --- Sapnap --- supplied for him. He flipped a page of his magazine. "I get that. I'm sorry."

George rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed again. He hadn't meant to yell, or even raise his voice at all. When had he become so snappish?

"I thought that maybe, he was the one," he said softly. "We've already been through this three times. Three times, Sapnap. I--- I don't want---"

His friend set down his magazine neatly on his lap and folded his arms. "Look, Smiley was easily the worst of all of them. But come on. Maybe the fourth time, it will be him. Maybe the fifth. Maybe the eighteenth. You don't know. That's why we're still doing this."

A shiver ran through George. Even though the boy was perfectly calm, he could see the fiery look in his eyes. It was rare to see him like that, and George was glad of it.

"You sound so sure," he said, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm not," Sapnap said. George looked up again to see him shrug, that fire around him gone. "It's just depressing seeing you so sad. I figured that I'd be the optimistic one for once."

George laughed, then sobered again. "Still... seeing Smiley lying on the ground like that, all that blood... it's still his body. Even if he doesn't look exactly the same, he looks incredibly similar. It still hurts."

Sapnap finally dropped his optimistic act. "I know. He was my friend, too."

He stood up, gave George a slightly asymmetrical smile, and disappeared into the next room.

For the past five years, George had been stumbling from one place to another, following after a trail of breadcrumbs he wasn't entirely sure existed. Six years ago, his best friend had died. He had been the most noble person, a bounty hunter, one who swore to protect people no matter what the cost. He always saw the best in humanity.

That was what had taken his life. It wasn't rare to hear about bounty hunter deaths, especially a lowkey hunter like him, but George knew this death was different from all the rest. The world had lost someone it needed more than anything, and George was determined to bring him back.

Necromancy was an odd power. George himself still had no idea what he was doing, and he certainly hadn't attempted anything as drastic as bringing someone back from limbo --- that was assuming that Dream hadn't already gotten on the train and left.