Coming Home

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                "Want to hear something funny, Erik?" Michel asks. "No," he replied, taking a shot. "Fine. Fine," Michel took a shot of his own. "Everything about Michel is a little odd, even his humor," Erik thought. "He's not just the first S-rank Mythic to retire, but the only one in the world. Us S-ranks are paid handsomely, but he decided to retire even though he's perfectly fine," he added in thought, watching Michel's expression shift as if he tasted something sour while staring at his shot glass. Erik laughed. Shaking his head, "What is it now?" Michel asks with a coughing fit between, "Nothing, you had a silly face," Erik replied. "Tch," Michel scoffed. "Are you sure about going through with the raid?" he asks, "Without a doubt," Erik replied. "But you saw how Jay died," Michel looked back into his memory. Finding a Crusoe scene of ants swarming a man and ripping him apart by whatever their pincers could get a hold of. "All the more reason to go. If they aren't dealt with, more people will suffer than just us," Erik replied, "When did you become so selfless?" Michel sighed. "I'm going one way or another, so I might as well have a good damn reason to die for," Erik sat his shot glass down on the table. "If you're going, I'm coming with. No way in hell I'm going to let you die," Michel decided, crossing his arms, "Are you sure? I know how you feel about these kinds of jobs," Erik asks, "Yes, I want to do my part to help you with the raid," Michel explained. "Alright-" he sighed- "Weren't you preparing to take a doctor certification exam?" Erik asks, "Yeah. I want to be a doctor and maybe live a normal life," Michel began, "I'm getting perfect grades," he explained. "Becoming a doctor? Why's that?" Erik asks, pouring himself and Michel another shot, "You know me, I love stitching up cuts!" Michel laughed. "Still a nutcase as ever," Erik jokes. "In all seriousness, I want to help everyone on the battlefield I can help, not really fight in one," he explained, "That's right, he's the normal one among the Mythics," Erik smirked, shaking his head. "I can't even name another Mythic who dislikes fighting monsters-" he added- "I guess a few healers don't like to, since they're all about helping others," Erik decided. "I wonder if an affinity for fighting is a required quality to become a Mythic," he thought, just finishing his glass. "Have another glass," Michel leaned over and poured another shot into Erik's glass. "Hey! Are you trying to get me drunk?!" Erik yelled, "Am I?!" Michel laughed.

                With a tap on the roof of his home, Winter lands gracefully by his bedroom window. He had changed greatly since he saw Uncle David. Winter became a handsome and muscular young man with sharp facial features. Scars Littered his face, one rose up to the crease of his lips on the left side of his chin. Another laceration scar that went up not even an inch up to his right cheek, a cut in his left ear faint electrical scars around his eyes. He slides the window open and with the breeze, his curtain flaps out of the way. He slides through and lands on his feet, "I've seen the System work miracles. What has happened to be thus far is truly an incredible story," Winter thought, grabbing clean clothes. "All thanks to the System, I have grown from an E-rank to S-rank in a matter of months when I really started trying," he added, dressing in clean clothes. Macey sat in her room, working on some math. "Jeez, I can barely concentrate," she sighed. She stands up, and steps out of her room, "Macey! Go take out the trash!" Her mom yelled from the kitchen, "Alright," she stepped down the stairs. Stepping outside, Macey went to the back gate with a garbage sack in hand. Feeling the wind blow past her as she lifted the garbage sack up and into the top of the garbage can, she turned to feel where it was coming from. "I guess summer is coming," she commented, "The wind feels warm," she added. Winter sits down on his bed, looking down at his hands. They had straight and exact lines when he looked closely at them, "I wonder," he mumbled, "Could I make wards with artificial matter?" He thought, laying his head on his pillow. He slowly drifted to sleep as this idea brewed.

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