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Flagstaff, six days earlier.

Aarden stands in the solace of a soundless forest of slender ponderosa pines. A gentle breeze brushes his bushy coat of fur, carrying the fragrant scent of unfamiliar flowers to his sensitive nose. Illusion dances deep in the inky forest as the colors of the sky run deep navy, but Aarden is unafraid as the fire of familiarity guides him back home. His tattered boots track footprints into fresh mud as the gears in his mind turn, his thoughts wandering on future inventions.

The red panda makes it to a clearing of dry grass as the stars shine brightly above him. He takes some time to track the constellations before approaching the cozy cabin in the near distance.

Aarden knows exactly where to push on the warped door leading to a small kitchen. But as soon as he steps in, he realizes something is horribly wrong. Immediately, his keen nose is filled with the strong scent of rust coming from all directions of the room, as if time had withered away every bit of iron holding his home together.

"Xavier?" Aarden calls out, terrified of the silence he's faced with.

Pitch black puddles of rust stain the creaking wooden floors as he makes his way to the darkness of the den. His arm raised as high as he can reach, he searches for a thin chain to the single light in the hallway.

Aarden stifles the scream escaping his throat when the bulb flickers on. The dim amber light reflects off pools of dark blood leading from kitchen to den. Having been taught to treat his own injuries, Aarden isn't frightened in the slightest by the sight of blood, it's seeing enough blood to paint the walls in a fresh coat of crimson that makes his legs weak enough to collapse knee-first into the puddles.

He can't remember the last time panic shot up his body this intensely. Electric-like instinct screams for him to run, but there's an energy even more powerful telling him to fight for what little he has left.

Aarden runs out of time to make any decision at all. Hot, putrid air hits his face once he turns a corner. He buckles, his stomach about to give way when two gleaming and bloodshot eyes shine through shadow, revealing rows of bloody, thorny teeth. The large reptile lifts him as if he were weightless, pinning him against the wall after dragging him into the den by his long tail.

"That's enough, Ulysses," a deep voice says from the wide open doorway.

Aarden's teary eyes meet Ziegler's for the first time as he tries desperately to wake from a terrifying nightmare, but the way his heart thumps in his chest tells him he's wide awake.

Ulysses Thorne savors the distress in the air as he sets Aarden down, tearing the sleeve off his green jacket as the red panda collapses onto dilapidated floors.

"Aarden, do you know who I am?" Ziegler asks the set of terrified green eyes looking up at him.

Aarden shakes his head, teardrops falling to his lap. He pushes against the wall, trying to create as much space as he can between himself and the nightmarish wolf. From what he can see in the darkness, the wolves' towering height is built on a wiry frame, topped with manic eyes glowing in the darkness with a bloodlust only slaughter could satisfy. His teeth are long, with the sharp tips spilling over his muzzle even when his mouth is slammed shut. His face is marred and covered in scar tissue, giving him the appearance of a wolf reanimated in spite of death. He's the most frightening sight Aarden has ever been forced to see.

"Do you know what you're capable of?" he asks, looking down at him intensely.

The question confuses Aarden, but he tries to answer as best he can. His life may depend on it.

"I can build things, and that's all I know how to do," Aarden says, struggling to come up with something that would make him indispensable.

The wolf scowls, scanning him up and down as if trying to detect a lie.

"That's not enough. I can build things on my own just fine. What I need from you is something far too grand to build alone. I'm here because I need your help," Ziegler says.

Aarden is too confused to be afraid. "What did you do to him?" He asks, assuming the mangled mess of spotted fur and tattered clothing in the corner of the room is the source of the blood flooding the room.

"Elio Xavier was unwilling to help me. I'm afraid to admit I got a bit angry, and my acquaintance here perhaps went a bit too far in our efforts to shake information out of him. It's a shame, he was an old colleague of mine, as were your parents."

Aarden's ears perk as electricity races through his heart. Ziegler grins, knowing he's said everything he needs to say without any further action.

"You knew my parents?"

"The past is a mystery to you, isn't it?" The wolf asks, genuine pity in his voice. "Wouldn't you like to unlock it?"

Ziegler bends long, slender legs to kneel before him. He grabs Aarden's muzzle, gently pulling it up to meet his scarlet eyes.

"Aarden, you're the most important piece of the puzzle. You're more powerful than you could ever imagine. Xavier, tragically, fought courageously to the death to prevent me from telling you the truth. When you were born, your parents entrusted me to make you extraordinary. I followed through on that promise when I placed power deep within you, and now I've come back to collect it, hoping you'd spent all these years cultivating it. I can't rip it out of you, or I would've done that already. What you need to understand, is that I can't cash out on my investment unless you choose willingly to come with me."

Aarden can't find any words to say. Even if he did, he's too afraid to speak as his mind races with not only the realization he's now all alone in the world, but his parents may still be out there somewhere.

Ziegler rises and steps into the moonlight falling in through the doorway, his dark eyes capturing what little light remains in a forest that's more silent than it's ever been.

"I'm also as equally prepared to cut my losses and write you off as a failed experiment, if you'd prefer," he suggests, extending his hand for Aarden to grasp.

Aarden rises to take Ziegler's open hand, joining him in the chilling breeze carrying away the scent of murder. Unfamiliar flowers are flattened under heavy feet as Aarden is guided toward the hum of an engine deep within the forest. Fear runs through him, and the illusions in the inky nightfall pounce at his numb and defenseless mind as the fire inside him is extinguished.

***

Northern California, January 2013. Two years before the end of everything.

In her bedroom of redwood and rose-gold, Kamala slips her hands into insulated gloves. Her fingers dance back and forth on the tops of albums as she digs through a crate in the corner, filling her sensitive nose with the familiar scent of decaying cardboard. She glances down at the battered records, trying to find something that speaks back to her sorrow.

The ritual of carefully removing a record from its sleeve, placing it on the turntable and gently dropping the needle into the groove provides her the happiness she desperately needs. She grips an arm still tender from the battle she fought weeks ago. Since then, her head still spins, and she doesn't know if it's the venom still swimming in her system or the emptiness of losing such a large part of her, but everything seems to sway as she lays on her bed, allowing the music to drown out the sounds of her own crying as rosy tears fall down the glossy fur on her face.

The slow music cuts through the silence hanging over them in the weeks since Zephyr's passing. Kamala's adaptation allows her to capture the energy around her and transform it into whatever she needs, whether it's a powerful blast or a sturdy shield. Music, like all other things, is energy, and the gradually building rhythms allow Kamala to grieve as she channels her emotions into the sound-waves, safely sending them from heart to home without destruction.

Through a shared wall, in the domed observatory of Axton's manor, Indigo taps their unbroken foot on the polished floor as they concentrate on the seam they sew together, a suitcase laying open on their bed beside the large telescope.

The music creeps its way throughout the manor as every remaining member of the Zenith wander like satellites through empty space vast enough to contain their immeasurable pain and confusion.

Kamala rises, fighting the aching head and swollen eyes trying to pull her back into the comforts of her bed. She parts heavy blinds to force sunlight in, but a heavier weight in the pit of her stomach sinks her deeper into an abyss as she glances at the towering conservatory at the edge of the garden.

Despite her best efforts, all the flowers in the garden died when the winter turned cold, as if they all knew Zephyr would never tend to them again.

Kamala and her siblings exist in anguished isolation, passing each other in the hallways like ghosts, never finding the strength within to console one another, remaining fragmented and lost as Zephyr meant something different to each of them.

To Kamala, he was her first love. To Kyran, he was the leader whose place he's now obligated to fill. To Phoenix, he was the steady head guiding him through his turbulence. To Indigo, he was a fear lost in their shadowy past. It's impossible for the Zenith to console one another when they can't come to an agreement to what exactly was lost when Zephyr died. Some saw Zephyr as more of a friend than a brother, some saw him as more of a leader than a friend. It's impossible to find the words to say to one another when they can't agree as to what role their leader truly played, but whatever it was, the caverns in their hearts tell them it was a massive one.

To Aarden, Zephyr was a stranger.

The red panda spends all his time wandering the large and unfamiliar manor, losing himself in indistinguishable rooms until he gives up and sits in an uncomfortable armchair until someone searches for him. The memories of his life only weeks ago feel like faded eternities he can't step back into, no matter how hard he tries. He can't explain how he feels, but he knows it isn't himself.

On the morning of Zephyr's memorial, Aarden gazes up at five large portraits in a long, gilded ballroom. The faint sound of music from somewhere a few floors above him vibrates through his long whiskers.

"In here!" Aarden responds to his name being called from the hallway.

"There you are," Phoenix says.

The lion guides a flame from the tips of his fingers into the fireplace. A warm orange glow bathes the cold room in warmth as Phoenix turns the logs without feeling the burn from the crackling fire.

"I figured I'd find you in here again," Phoenix says, clapping ash off his hands while staring up at his own beaming face. "You know, I've always hated those paintings. I'm amazed Thaddeus showed enough restraint to not have the artist paint golden halos behind our heads."

"The frame on your painting is a darker gold than the others," Aarden says, having spent hours observing them.

Phoenix turns away from the portrait.

"When I was your age, I felt there was nothing more for me in here and I knew there was something better for me out there, so I ran away. Aarden, I know exactly how you feel, and I know you're about to make the same mistake I did."

"Was I that obvious?"

"Indigo says you think loudly."

"Right. So, where did you go?" Aarden asks, breaking his gaze from the oil and canvas version of Phoenix to glance up at the living fire version of the lion.

"Dallas. I found trouble and independence, but I never found the answers I was looking for. Thaddeus tossed my portrait in the fireplace there the night I left. I don't think he did it because he was mad at me, I think he wanted to deny me the pleasure of burning it myself."

Aarden glances up at Zephyr's portrait, having never met him, yet feeling responsible for everything that became of him. He breaks his gaze, as if the immeasurable guilt weighs his head down.

"I wasn't ready for the world outside these walls. I was so naïve, I convinced myself that when I ran away, they would come with me, but they carried on as four like I never existed," Phoenix says, letting some of the pain slip through his locked heart.

"Is that what you're going to do now? Carry on as four, despite all the pain?"

Phoenix holds up his large hand spreading his fingers.

"Five," he says, his eyes misting with tears as he peers into red paint that could never match the true intensity of Zephyr's eyes. Eyes he may one day soon forget.

"I never got to thank him for refusing to give up on me."

Phoenix's voice cracks as he wipes a tear from his eye in the sleeves of his golden sweater. Aarden, trying to pretend he didn't see the open display of emotion, picks up a forgotten fencing mask off the marble floor.

"I never got to meet him, but I remember so much of his father," Aarden says, throwing aside the mask that doesn't fit over his pointed snout.

"Ziegler wasn't his father, Zephyr was Thaddeus's son only," Phoenix says, a deeper pain than loss hidden in his voice.

"But not his only son," Aarden reminds him.

Aggravation threatens to spark the fire within Phoenix. He places a warm hand on Aarden's shoulder and allows the feeling to pass.

"Your place is here, Aarden. We know what it's like to lose someone close to us. After something like that, all we have left is each other."

As much as Aarden wants to believe what Phoenix tells him is true, he knows he'll never belong in this strange manor alongside the four powerful, yet reclusive Zenith who wander the halls as lost as he is now.

"But I'm not one of you. There's nothing special about me, I have no powers, no adaptation."

Phoenix breaks away from the gaze of the portraits to look down at Aarden.

"You're one of us, Aarden. These adaptations, abilities, superpowers, whatever you want to call them, isn't what we have in common. It's the fact we found something in one another, something that made us feel a little less lost."

***

Later that afternoon, Kyran stares at his own broken reflection in the polished marble face of an obelisk at the center of the garden Zephyr once cherished. Indigo sits on the stone bench beside him, watering the dying flowers with their tears as the others conquer whatever fear prevents them from stepping out into the cold sunset. Eventually, they make their way toward them down the hedged path, Aarden first, then Phoenix.

The sapphire sky over the red and green forest fades into golden light when Thaddeus Axton is led to the center of the garden by Marina Fletcher. The broken-hearted lion hobbles, clinging to the peacock in more ways than one as he stumbles down the stone steps of the garden. Kamala follows after, avoiding Thaddeus's gaze, knowing by the look in his exhausted eyes that he must blame her for the loss of his favorite son.

The Zenith face each other for the first time since their arrival with Aarden. They form a circle around the hollow memorial to Zephyr. From beyond the manors' garden, the staff watch silently, Zephyr meaning something different to them as well.

Kamala doesn't stand anywhere near them, observing from the patch of dying roses she shared with Zephyr only weeks ago.

Thaddeus's deep, docile voice travels through the garden like a gentle breeze, reverberating over the somber field of mourners taking the place of once blossoming flowers.

"My children, the brevity of life can be compared to the passing of a day. However, we're never guaranteed to be guided by archangels toward the dawn in the depths of the darkest night. Some are snatched before the sun is at its zenith under a clear blue sky. Zephyr was taken from us even before then, falling into the unknown when his eyes were still tired from the long sleep before life, and his eyes were still blinded by the light of the rising sun. Zephyr was fearless but kindhearted. He was a gentle wolf cursed with a darkness living inside him, but I never saw him as anything other than my son. Zephyr was your brother, and he loved you more than anything in the world," Thaddeus says, his voice breaking as he cries the first tears any of them have ever witnessed.

Tapping into a well of strength he hasn't had to access since that fateful day in the tundra, the lion speaks.

"His death is a tragedy I implore you all learn from. He gave his life so that the five of you could come back home safely. In his memory, learn to rely on one another, because your brother knew the bond between you all was wilting, but he still had hope the roots remained strong. My children, let Zephyr's spirit guide you safely through the raging tempest and toward the dawn on a gentle breeze. May his memory live undying in our hearts and may we all find the sun to illuminate the dark nights ahead. For Zephyr."

The old lion faces the setting sun, anticipating the breeze that never comes.

Thaddeus Axton walks away from the creeping twilight, having said everything his broken heart can bear. The staff follows him until only the Zenith and Aarden remain in the moonlit garden. Phoenix lights an eternal flame at the base of the memorial where a small silver plaque reads:

ZEPHYR ZIEGLER

OCTOBER 31ST 1989 - DECEMBER 28TH 2012

Phoenix whispers softly, pressing his palms against the silver plaque until it glows bright red.

"Goodbye, Zeph."

From somewhere far in the manors driveway, the hum of engines cease, and the clatter of heels on the cobblestone path pull their attention toward Venus Kane, who instructs her guards to stay behind as she approaches them, a heavy wreath of red flowers tucked under her toned arms.

"You shouldn't be here," Kyran whispers angrily, his growl still hoarse and broken from damaging it on the mountain peak.

Kane bows her head slightly without breaking eye contact.

"I mean no disrespect. I'm truly sorry for your loss. Unlike the rest of you, Zephyr had a good head on his shoulders. That's something I'll surely miss."

"Then help us find who did this," Kyran says, every word escaping his raw, burning throat said through agonizing pain.

"We both know I can't do that," Kane says regrettably. "If you're all untouchable, then Dietrich Ziegler is unknowable. Besides, destroying our cities modern art gallery didn't do me any favors at the department."

The hyena interrupts Kyran before he can speak.

"I wish you all the best of luck, but I won't help you."

Kane places the wreath beside the obelisk and hastily whispers a prayer. On her way back to the row of black cars parked in the manor's circular driveway, she glances up at the opulent structure for the first time, having first heard about it when she began her career as a police officer. Part of her wishes she could step inside and witness where the Zenith learned to best her.

"Unless Ziegler himself wants to show up, which I know we all desperately want more than anything else, I sure hope that's it for unexpected guests," Phoenix says.

The Zenith navigate through the hedged paths leading to the manor when Kamala speaks up from the edge of the garden.

"Why do you need Kane's help, anyway? We can do this on our own," she says, her intense eyes stalking them from amongst the flowers.

Kyran clears his burning throat to speak to his sister for the first time in several weeks.

"Ziegler's disappeared; we could use all the help we can get right now."

Kamala leaps before them, staring directly into Kyran's eyes.

"Why are you so afraid of him?"

"I'm not afraid of him."

"Don't lie to me, it's fear that kept you from saving Zephyr, and I won't let that same fear kill you too."

The anger within Kyran grows dangerously close to boiling over. The scent of roses floods his nose as the blood rushing through his ears mutes the breeze running through the forest.

"The first thing I did once I made sure you were okay was go back, and we found nothing, Kamala. He's dead," Kyran says heatedly, brave enough to walk past her without teleporting.

His twin sister's voice rings out behind him, furious at everyone and herself.

"They're not both dead."

"It's not my fault," Kyran says, begging for Kamala to believe him as they make their way to a clearing beside a grand fountain.

A lifetime of unspoken pain fills the air between the panthers.

"Why won't you admit this is what you wanted all along? Zephyr is gone, you can be the leader now instead of just his shadow. Was it worth it? From what I see, Dad still won't give you the time of day. Do you think he cares if I die on the next mission, or Phoenix, or Indigo, or you?"

Kyran's body trembles as rage burns through his reluctance. He opens his mouth to speak before Kamala's voice echoes off the vine covered walls.

"I can't do this shit anymore. I quit, whatever this is. This team, this family, this whole crazy fucking experiment, whatever we are to one another, I don't want to do it anymore," Kamala says as she marches up the final steps toward the manor's library entrance. She's reaching for the door to the library when she's stopped by two amber eyes materializing from the early night.

"I can't let you do that," Kyran says, holding her wrist as if afraid she'll escape into the tension riddled air the same way he does.

"Please let go of me Kyran, this isn't a decision you can make for me."

Kyran's breathing grows heavy.

"I need you to help us make this right."

"It will never be right, Kyran! He's not even buried down there, it's empty! Zephyr is still out there and I'm bringing him home. If Ziegler gets in my way, I can handle him on my own, but as much as I love you, I won't allow you to control me."

"You'll stay, and that's an order," Kyran says raspingly as he loses control of his voice and composure.

Kamala launches a blast of pink crystal directly at him, her anger growing uncontrolled. It cuts through black smoke and collides explosively with a weathered pine tree beyond the garden, sending sharp slivers of beaten wood flying in all directions as if struck by lightning.

Phoenix burns the wooden pieces to cinders that dance like fireflies above their heads as Kamala falls to her knees, crying through gritted teeth.

"Well, that was as explosive as I thought it would be," Indigo says as Kamala races toward the permanent silence of the conservatory.

"Go check on her," Phoenix says.

"Why me?"

"You get her. You share brainwaves or something, you've always been close."

Indigo places a hand on their hip.

"Are you calling me a girl?"

"No, I just know if there's anyone who she'll listen to, it's you."

"I'm staying clear out of her way. Getting blown up isn't on my list of things to do today."

"Fine," Phoenix says, leaving the others behind. He's halfway toward his motorcycle in the manors garage when faint crying echoes below the roar of the fountain.

He forgot about Aarden; everyone has.

Phoenix sighs, turning to sit beside the red panda, putting his arm around him as he sobs.

"Thaddeus never said a word about your Dad," Phoenix says. "Maybe we can say something for him together."

"He never let me call him Dad; I never knew my real father."

"Join the club," Phoenix says as the night around them grows colder. The lion lights his fire, his mane illuminating the entire garden as Aarden shivers against him. The flames lick Aarden's face like hot summer air without burning him.

"Listen, I'm not too bright so anything I say won't be as fancy as what Thaddeus said, but I'm sure he was kind to raise you and protect you, and I know he's proud of you, wherever he is. I don't know where we go when we die, but I hope it's a garden."

***

Later that same evening, under the silvery light of the manors lavish library, Indigo hands Aarden his emerald letterman's jacket. When he first arrived to the manor to be treated by Fletcher, he refused to remove it. To Aarden, it remains the only relic of the world he's left behind, the only thing that reminds him he's not dreaming.

"Thank you," Aarden says as he runs his hands over the mended sleeve.

"No problem, I could tell it meant something to you. Was it his?" Indigo asks. "Xavier's?"

Aarden nods. "It's all I have left of him."

Later that same night, Indigo sits on one of the reading chairs under the chandelier, deep in thought.

"Are you still heading out," they ask Phoenix, who stares intensely into the heart of a roaring fire.

"I think I'll stay home tonight. There's too much shit going on. I'd rather be alone right now."

"Right," Indigo says, crestfallen. They wave at Aarden before departing the library, running hands through their silky blue hair.

Tragedy divides them, pulling them apart from one another and placing them on separate paths.

Broken without Zephyr, his absence guides them toward the bleakest chapter of their lives.

As Kyran anguishes about past mistakes haunting him, Dietrich Ziegler lies buried within the smoke of his future.

As the new leader of the Zenith sits on his bed in the apse-like annex of the library, longing to disappear into the stars beyond the half-moon window he peers out from, tears fall down his face. Kyran fades away in thought until the sounds of an approaching taxi pull him back to his isolation. He knows she's leaving, but his body grows too heavy on the bed to say goodbye.

As Kamala races in a taxi down the cobblestone path leading her away from the manor and toward destinations unknown, she glances back at the only place she's ever called home, too hurt by the life she's lived there to properly say goodbye, knowing a part of her will always be a part of this.

As Aarden glances at the receding taillights of a taxi until they fade away down the tree-lined road, he struggles to adjust to new surroundings, finding himself lost in another unfamiliar room as he struggles again to find his bedroom, finding it easier to lay on an olive-colored couch in the sitting room until he fades to sleep than to continue searching until the first rays of dawn, as he's done too often now in his short time in the manor.

As Aarden's footsteps fade away in the room below his own bedroom, Phoenix flips through a large album, seeing himself gradually disappear from the photographs as the years pass by. He focuses on the faces in each picture, searching deep within himself to feel what his siblings must've felt in those moments in a desperate attempt to rediscover the years he's missed.

As Phoenix's sobs spill into the hallway outside his bedroom door, Indigo buries the goodbye and parting plans they were going to share as they prepare to make the same choice Phoenix made when he was a young lion fighting for his place in the world.

And as the lights of Indigo's observatory bedroom dim late into the night, Thaddeus Axton finishes writing the last pain his heart can bear as he sets his journal aside and weeps, mourning the loss of his son and the loss of his own vision for their future, knowing his children are now lost.

But as he once wandered lost in a cold world all those years ago, so too will his children, and in the same way he found rescue in the power of the Zenith, his children will have to tap into a power within to save themselves, but he's unsure if they can do it alone.

They drift apart, but the same tragedy tearing them apart will soon bring them back together, even if they're all too broken to accept it.