"Pull over here," Isaac said once they arrived on the outskirts of Galt.

"What? Why?" James asked, glancing at him even as he brought the vehicle to a stop at the side of the road. "A graveyard?"

Isaac nodded, stepping out of the car. "Wait here," he ordered, shutting the door behind him. "I will be back in five, maybe less. Just gotta take care of something fast."

James furrowed his brow, glancing between him and the cemetery entrance. Finally, he sighed and leaned back into the driver's seat. "Fine. Scream if you need me."

Isaac chuckled. "I won't, but thanks for the offer."

With that said, he turned on his heel and headed right for the graveyard. The old iron gate had seen better days thanks to the earthquakes, but somehow, it still stood firm. He slipped through and went in search of his target. Not that it could be even called a search when he had the path memorized. Not even the cracks in the earth and the occasional damaged headstone could throw him off track.

There you are…

He came to a stop before a particular grave. A small chunk of the headstone had broken off, but thankfully, the inscription remained intact. His flowers were gone, though. Either someone had stolen them even before the Breakout began, or the wind and earthquakes somehow got them.

Or the Wretched ate them. Who knows…

He shook his head gently. "Hey, old man," he muttered. "Didn't expect me back so soon, did you? Well, neither did I… You see, the world is ending, if you can believe that. And surprise, surprise, I don't hate it. Hell, I love it."

He chuckled quietly. "You always told me I would find something I truly enjoyed one day. And I think I finally did. Or at least I'm on the right path. Not sure where it will take me, but maybe that's the point. For the first time in my life, I'm feeling like something is going right, so I'm definitely not complaining."

His gaze swept over the empty graveyard, over all the damages, the torn-apart trees, earth, and crushed headstones. A sigh left Isaac's lips.

"But not all is good," he admitted. "If what happened in Galt is anything to go by, then the human population just got much smaller. Right now, people are just trying to survive, but once they settle in? The reality of it all is going to hit hard. Or maybe it won't. What do I really know…"

Nothing answered him. Not even wind.

The corner of his lips twitched. "Anyway, there's a reason why I'm here again so soon. I'm heading to Sacramento with a few people—you would have liked them—and I have no idea when I will be back. If ever… So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that this might be the final goodbye. I will never forget all you did for me, old man. Rest well… and if you can, watch over me."

Turning around, he took a step toward the exit. But before he could go any further, he paused and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and don't worry about Elaine," he added. "She's fine, if a bit shaken. Can't promise I will always watch over her, but I will at least try to keep her alive. That is if we don't kill each other first."

Just like that, he averted his gaze and walked away, leaving the graveyard behind, maybe even forever. Still, deep in his mind, one image remained—the image of the old man's headstone.

Charles Blake

"A steady guiding hand, giving love that never fades."

May his rest be as fruitful as his life.

"Are you inside?"

Isaac stiffened, setting his half-packed backpack aside. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Yeah, come in."

His tent's flap moved to the side, and Elaine stepped inside, dressed almost the same as him—a simple but snug sweatpants and a black hoodie. A large backpack hung from her hands, her grip tight around the straps.

"I think everybody is ready to go," she said, lingering by the entrance.

Isaac glanced down at his watch and raised an eyebrow. "We agreed to meet in exactly seventeen minutes. I have time."

Elaine grimaced. "Yeah… I just… Damn it."

"Not easy to let go of years of anger, hmm?" he asked, returning to his previous task. A few more shirts, courtesy of Daryl, still needed to be stuffed inside.

"Not for you, it seems," the woman muttered. "How do you do it?"

Isaac shrugged, still not looking in her direction. "Maybe I just hide it better. Or maybe… like I told you, I have better things to worry about than our pointless feud. Just let it go, Elaine. Trust me, life is better that way."

"If only it were that easy," she grumbled, dropping onto a garden chair standing near the entrance. "I came here to thank you. You know, for vouching for me."

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"I did what I promised you. Nothing more. No need to thank me."

Elaine let out a deep sigh. "Just accept it. Don't make me fight you on this."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I officially accept your gratitude. There, happy?"

"Pff." She rolled her eyes. "Since when do you make jokes? That's so not like you."

Isaac stifled a grimace. She wasn't wrong. James's easygoing nature must have been rubbing off on him more than he realized. Not that he could tell her that—she would experience it all firsthand soon enough.

As such, he just shrugged. "Isn't it? Despite everything, we don't really know each other that well, Elaine."

She tilted her head. "Fair… though I still doubt that."

"Think what you want," he said, throwing the last shirt into his backpack. He then zipped it up and flung it over his shoulder. "All right, I'm ready. Come, let's see if others are already there."

Elaine jumped to her feet and followed him outside. They weaved through the growing maze of tents before stepping onto another street where the working vehicles were parked. Once they got past all of them, their target—a truck with an open bed—came into view, along with quite the group gathered next to it.

"There they are!" James called as he and Marie stepped away from the group and approached them. "Cutting it close there, boss."

Isaac checked his watch again. "We still have over five minutes."

The older man waved him off. "Semantics." His gaze shifted to Elaine. "And you're the final member of our little team… I haven't had the pleasure to introduce myself before. James Harmon, at your service, princess."

Isaac stifled a laugh when he saw Elaine's face scrunch up. He was going to enjoy every single second of watching her deal with all that James brought with his presence.

"Elaine Blake," the woman said, her eyes narrowed. "And please, don't call me that."

James grinned. "What? Princess? Sorry, no can do."

"Ignore him," Marie cut in before an argument could spark. "He's like this with everyone. Give it time, and you will get used to his antics."

"I hope so…" Elaine muttered. She turned to Isaac. "I'm going to drop off my stuff and have a word with Mr. Thomson."

Once she was out of earshot, James grinned wide. "So who's she really, man? You're too awkward with each other, so can't be a girlfriend. An ex, maybe?"

Isaac snorted. "As if. She's just a relative of my last foster caretaker. Trust me, up until now, we couldn't last a minute in the same room without jumping at each other's throats. Figuratively, of course."

"Huh," Marie hummed, looking between him and Elaine in the distance. "And here I thought the thing with James when we first met was a one-time deal." She glanced at the man in question and added, "Guess we all have that one person we can't stand…"

James blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry? Did you say anything? I couldn't hear you."

Marie groaned. "Whatever. I'm leaving anyway." Stepping forward, she pulled Isaac into a brief hug. "Stay safe out there, and look out for this idiot for me," she whispered.

Isaac smiled as they separated. "I will. No worries."

"Oi!" James yelled. "Where's my farewell hug, Ari? Don't you love me too?"

She rolled her eyes. "You already got one. Don't get greedy. You can have another when you two return. I meant it, guys, stay safe. You have no idea what you're stepping into."

"We will be f—"

James never got to finish, as Tyler's shout reached their ears at that moment.

"Lads! Come on, it's time for us!"

Marie chuckled. "Well, the chief is calling. Can't ignore that. Take care, guys."

"You too, lady Ari," James bowed before grabbing Isaac by the arm. "Let's go, boss. Adventure awaits."

Isaac snorted as he allowed himself to be dragged toward the car. "Sure, adventure, let's call it that."

With that, they packed into a large truck—Tyler and James in the cab while Elaine, Isaac, and their equipment settled in the truck bed. Sacramento wasn't far, and at the slow pace they planned to travel, riding in the open wouldn't be an issue.

Hell, he even preferred it this way. Without a roof over his head, it was even easier to summon and aim Blood Daggers. And with how many Wretched lurked among the wrecked cars on the road, he had plenty of targets.

For Elaine, as it turned out, it wasn't much different. A few minutes into the journey, she revealed her own ability to create bright white constructs. Although they lacked the power of his Blood Daggers, they burned hot enough to easily melt clean through a Wretched's skull.

"So light, huh?" Isaac commented. "You got anything else besides those constructs?"

Elaine flipped the glowing dagger in her hand and nodded. "One other skill. But I would rather not show it now."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It's a bit explosive and could blind the driver," she explained. "Works a bit like a flash-bang, but with the addition of burning everything in its radius. And… I'm still working on controlling it."

Isaac nodded just as his eyes locked on a Wretched stumbling onto the road. Within a second, the beast collapsed with a Blood Dagger sticking out of its skull.

"Daryl told me why you wanted to go," he spoke again, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. "Family? That's true or just an excuse?"

In the corner of his vision, he saw Elaine flinch.

"It's from my mother's side," she admitted. "My aunt and cousin. I called them as soon as I got to safety after the Breakout began, but nobody answered. I know… I know the chances that they are… fine are slim to none, but I have to make sure. They are all I have left…"

Yet Isaac heard almost none of that. Halfway through her explanation, he felt the thread that went out to search for his Legacy return. It dragged something along, something massive.

Blood stirred in his veins, along with the entire connection to his Origin. The Legacy Web also awoke and, like one unit, reached out to the immense presence dragged by that single thread.

As that happened, an image flashed in Isaac's head—a perfect and clear picture of a massive bird with crimson feathers so dark they almost appeared black.

Somehow, despite being a product of his own imagination, the creature looked right at him with its blood-red eyes, staring straight into his soul. Then, with a deep, rough croak, everything inside him clicked into place.

The thread carrying the presence—his legacy—settled, now connected to the entire web. At the same time, the image of the majestic bird faded, leaving behind only a line of familiar text.

Adaptation of the inherited Legacy has finished successfully. Congratulations, Host, and the new bearer of the spark of a Crimson Raven.

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