Alvin returned to the Abyss Tower late in the evening, exhausted from his journey to Divine Island, the Memory Dragon's lair, and the Creator's domain. By the time he crossed the threshold of the tower, his temples throbbed. The air still smelled faintly like the teleportation sigils he had used. Even so, the moment he sensed Natasha's familiar aura inside the guest rooms, something inside him eased. At least one thing in his fractured existence was still intact.
Natasha came rushing out as soon as she heard his footsteps. Her eyes were bright, her face carrying that mixture of determination and gentleness he remembered from the apocalypse world.
"Alvin," she gasped, stopping just a step away. "Are you all right?"
"As all right as someone who has dealt with three divine beings in a day can be," Alvin muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Come. We need to talk."
