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Monument Valley, November 2011.

Aarden doesn't pay much attention to a word of Elio Xavier's lecture on the small field of purple wildflowers reaching toward the painted desert sky between colossal sandstone buttes.

"They thrive despite their arid environment, it's quite inspiring," the cheetah concludes, brushing rusty earth off his knees as he rises toward the arid sun.

"I've never seen anything like this before," Aarden says, wishing he could read the stories hidden within the stratified red stone.

The sandy wind speaks to them as it soars over the valley floor, causing Aarden to squint against its sting until the fur on his face is visible in the edges of his vision.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" Xavier asks Aarden, who glances up at him and nods, his short white muzzle-stained fuchsia from the prickly pear fruit he's been enjoying throughout their hike.

They stand alone in a vast and otherworldly desert landscape far beyond the point where the vivid radiance of Phoenix, Arizona transforms into tranquil fields of purple sage.

"I've always wanted to show you this. My father brought me here when I was much younger than you are now. There may not be a better time than now to show you."

Aarden hangs onto every word Xavier says.

"Why is now the best time?" Aarden asks curiously, the orange sun falling onto his rusty face.

Xavier looks at the closest thing he'll ever know to family and feels a fondness for the red panda unlike any he's felt before, but the feeling turns into deep rooted guilt.

"There will come a time, maybe one closer than either of us could ever imagine, where you'll be left all alone, and all that remains of me will be the unsaid. You'll have to fend for yourself in a world that's much bigger than even this, and fight for something that's even bigger than that."

Aarden still wishes he could travel back in time and tell his younger self everything Xavier had meant to tell him in that crucial moment. But until he can learn to travel back and alter the reality of the past, he's forced to reflect on a memory that remains unchanged, in a timeline that remains unbroken.

"Are you afraid I won't be ready for it when the time comes?" Aarden asks.

Xavier's gaze on the horizon remains unbroken. He adjusts his crooked frames, digging deep within for the right words to say.

"I know you're ready for it now. It's myself I'm unsure of."

"This fight you're preparing me for, what's it for?" Aarden asks, trying to find what Xavier sees in the horizon.

"It's for something much greater than any of us."

"What role do I play in it?"

"A crucial one."

"Will you be there?"

"In a way."

"Then how much time do we have left?"

The cheetah brushes away insects with his slender tail.

"That, Aarden, is solely yours to determine."

***

Aarden's dreams linger on vanishing memories of painted desert skies before his eyes open to adjust to the pattern on the high redwood ceiling of a cathedral-like room facing the forest.

"Try not to move around so much," Fletcher's soothing voice echoes in his throbbing head. The slender peacock brushes aside silken silver hair from her eyes as she replaces the sweat soaked pillows he rests on.

"Where am I?" Aarden asks.

"Where do you think you are?"

"Hopefully not another timeline," Aarden says, struggling to pull at the tight bandages wrapped around his shoulder before Fletcher slaps his hand away.

"Truthfully, I'm surprised you're not more acquainted with this room. You're in the medical wing of the manor, where we fix broken wings. Ask Phoenix when you get the chance, he knows this room better than anyone else. He was in here for the entire summer after he first laid paws on a motorcycle."

"Why am I here?" Aarden asks, so unbalanced he checks if his tail is still in tact.

"Dietrich Ziegler found you. He claims you were attacked by Thorne."

"I must've been," Aarden lies, fear flooding back to him knowing Ziegler may be nearby.

Fletcher gives him a penetrating glare.

"We both know he's lying," she says as she takes cold scissors to Aarden's bandages.

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it?" Aarden asks, blood surging in his ears.

"I expect you to fight, as I expect of all my children," Fletcher says, replacing his bandages.

"I can't fight."

Fletcher sits at the edge of his bed, resting her cream-colored tail-feathers on his lap.

"This war waged against you will never cease, understand that. The moment you were born to the moment you were made a Zenith was the last time in your short life you've known anything else but this fight. Ziegler isn't an unanticipated enemy; he's one of the many orchestrators of your suffering. I've devoted my life to this fight; it was my choice. You had no choice and you're afraid, I understand that. But the time will soon come when you'll have the chance to finally make your own choice. No matter what you choose, I'll always be grateful to have raised you. Tell Quinn to call me if you need anything, she's been waiting in the hall since the others brought you up."

Quinn's long muzzle peers past the doorway as Fletcher strides out of the infirmary in soundless elegance, reminding the raccoon of the ghosts she wishes she could see in the graveyards of Paris.

"I bet you wish it were a different version of me, don't you?" Quinn says, sitting on the bed beside him as the evening sun spills through tall windows of stained-glass flowers, dotting the room in the rainbow lights of a prismatic garden.

Aarden gently runs his fingers through the flowers at his bedside. The way they're neatly trimmed tells him it's Zephyr's work.

"Quinn, all I've ever wanted was the same version of you that I met in San Francisco."

The raccoons' teal eyes focus on the floor.

"We both know too much has changed to go back to the way things were."

"Maybe I can take you back," Aarden says, almost desperately, "back to when I was normal like you."

Quinn sighs as she smiles nervously.

"Is that what you want to hear?"

Aarden sits in his own contemplation, searching for something to push their conversation in any other direction.

"Where are the others?"

"It's time I leave."

Aarden sits up, the pain washing away from him as the medicine in his system takes hold.

"Where will you go?"

"London. I have a life waiting for me back home."

"What about Ziegler. Aren't you afraid he'll come after you?"

Quinn wipes at the dark mascara running down her face.

"So much has happened, I forget you may not know yet. Ziegler's still here. We managed to get the best of him, but Thaddeus Axton ordered us to stop, he's been locked in a room upstairs ever since."

"How long was I out?" Aarden asks, his heart plummeting when he notices the dying edges on the roses' petals.

"A few days. Aarden, he claims he saved you from Thorne. I remember him from when he attacked our home. Thaddeus has him locked in the basement."

"Thorne's innocent," Aarden insists, again trying to rise from the bed despite the searing pain.

"Aarden it's okay, he believes you, that's why he's locked him up until he figures out what to do. We're safe now."

Aarden throws his heavy head against the stack of pillows.

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Some version of me, maybe?"

Aarden glances down at his bare chest, wrapped in bandages.

"What happened to my jacket?"

"It was torn and soaked in blood; I don't know what happened to it."

Aarden pushes his legs off the bed and rises.

"I'm ready to see them. The sooner we can get this done, the sooner you can get back to that life you're always talking about."

Aarden drags his tail on the ground, dusting the wooden floors as he relies on it to keep himself balanced through the daze of the sedatives in his bloodstream.

"I didn't mean it like that," Quinn says.

"Then what were you trying to say?"

"I want to go back to that day as much as you do, it was wonderful. But that day never happened in this timeline. We both need to let that feeling go and find it somewhere else. If we can't, then being around each other is only going to hurt."

"I can't let that feeling go, all I want to do is feel that way forever."

Aarden and Quinn glance into each other's eyes in a moment they'll remember for the rest of their lives. In an unfamiliar corner of the manor, amongst a row of grand paintings with golden frames, Aarden confesses.

"I've felt a lifetime of feelings in such a short amount of time."

"Given what you can do, it must hurt that time is the one thing keeping you from that feeling," Quinn says as she runs her hands through the green streak in Aarden's straw-colored hair.

Aarden grips Quinn's hand.

"If I could go back to that day, I'd tell you everything I felt in that moment."

"Then tell me now. I'm still that version of myself, at least I think I am."

"I can't find the words to explain."

"Then stop letting words get in the way."

Aarden and Quinn move closer to one another until their lips meet. Then their eyes open, looking into the uncertainty in each other, unsure of what to do next. They pull away and laugh nervously, their faces growing warm and their feet turning cold.

"Second time trying that for the first time and I'm still a terrible kisser."

Quinn interlocks her fingers around his as they walk together down the hallway, telling him everything he needs to know without letting words get in the way.

When they reach the library, Aarden is pulled into a warm embrace by everyone but Kyran, who places his hand briefly on his shoulder and nods.

"What happened to Thorne?" Aarden asks.

"The giant lizard who poisoned Kamala?" Kyran asks, pulling from a shared memory any version of himself would know.

"Yes. In my timeline, he turned out to be good at the end," Aarden says, "I guess he was always in your timeline as well; we just didn't know."

Kyran and Indigo give each other a look they're becoming painfully familiar with.

"In the end, he was just like Zephyr, trapped in a beast of Ziegler's creation," Kamala says, long having forgiven Thorne on her journey toward reconciling with Zephyr's actions. "I don't believe Ziegler for a second, I know it wasn't Thorne who hurt you."

"Then what was Thorne doing in Aarden's lab?" Phoenix asks.

"He never said. He just told me he remembered everything. He seemed scared."

"There's something you're not saying," Indigo observes from the words bouncing in Aarden's head.

"It's best you don't know," Kamala tells the rabbit, stepping between them as they try to paint a better picture.

***

Thaddeus Axton knows exactly what lies beyond the door to the curved viewing room beside his study, but he's uncertain if he's ready to confront Dietrich Ziegler. Not because he's afraid of how the erratic wolf will act, but of the words he'll speak.

The lion paces, his massive chest heaving as he pushes out fear through deep breaths of stagnant air.

"I understand it's hyperbolic, but sometimes I really can smell putrid fear in the air. Our primal instincts remain, we just need to search deeply within to rediscover them. You're as afraid as you've always been, Thaddeus. I can sense it," Ziegler says as the heavy doors squeal open.

Thaddeus relies on his cane to guide him, meeting the glare of the wolf he once knew.

"How long has it been?" Ziegler asks, admiring the plaques and photographs on the wall, a shrine to the Zenith decorated with the keys to a thousand cities.

"Long enough for the decade's worth of battle scars you once held with such high regard to transform your face into something unrecognizable. You talk about sensing fear in the air, when I can still see the same fear in your eyes I saw in that frozen tundra."

"I never claimed to be fearless, Thaddeus. Well, you've certainly gotten gray over the years, but you still look as sturdy as ever despite gaining some bulk around the middle. No wonder you felt it necessary to have five adolescents act as your personal bodyguards. They certainly had a lot of body to guard."

Thaddeus can't help but laugh, leaning against the wall and looking out at the forest. He designed this room to be a place where Xochitl Solis could keep an indoor garden, where she could read and relax with beautiful views to the nature surrounding her. It was his way of apologizing to her for taking her away from the beach, transforming her into a desert pearl in unfamiliar surroundings.

"So, old friend. How's your health?" Ziegler asks, sensing Thaddeus is deep in thought.

"Better now," Thaddeus responds.

"That's excellent to hear. You weren't so lucky where I come from."

"So, I've heard."

"I wonder if you hid her from me in this timeline as well."

Ziegler analyzes Thaddeus with an intensity so penetrating it makes him feel apprehensive to step forward. It's his eyes, Thaddeus reasons, they always force him to reconsider exactly who's dominant over the other. If Ziegler is the one locked in the observation room, then why does Thaddeus feel as if he's the one being held captive?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can come closer; I won't bite this time. What are you so afraid of? Clearly, you've won. Now we can finally enjoy a tête-à-tête between old comrades."

Thaddeus breaks his concentration on a photograph of a young four member Zenith before City Hall, the memory so faded it feels almost fictional.

"Warming up to your old comrades in that gulag is how you ended up here to begin with," Thaddeus says, gesturing to one of the large sitting chairs.

"Now, let's not debate sides. I sided with the wrong faction. I won't make that same mistake again."

Thaddeus loses ground in a battle he's been fighting mentally for decades.

"Why are you so dispassionate?" Thaddeus asks, unsure if this is a part of Ziegler's maneuvers to destabilize him.

The wolf crosses his slender legs.

"For starters, you still had some dusty bottles hidden back here, I hope you don't mind that I helped myself to them. Secondly, I believe I've proven my point after all these years of arduous fighting."

"And lastly?" Thaddeus asks, leaning back against the chair, the glare in his blue eyes unbroken.

"You've taken so much from me, there's nothing left to take. You took my company, my wife, my son, and even the reality I build it all upon. I have nothing else."

"I'm not the aggressor here."

"Are you not? You're keeping me prisoner!" Ziegler shouts, his fists crashing onto the table before them, knocking crystal chess pieces to the polished wooden floor.

"You did the same to the boy!"

The wolf scoffs.

"What you did to Aarden was much worse. Time manipulation? He'll be terrified, if he survives."

"I'm not here to debate the morals of what we've done or remind you their adaptations were unalterable."

Ziegler snarls, his muzzle crumpling.

"Unalterable. The same was once said about time," the wolf reminds him.

"I'm here to remind you it's over, but there's still plenty left to fight for if you're in such desperate need of a reason to get that sublime but sinister mind thinking again."

"I'm listening."

The tension in Thaddeus's body eases slightly as he retakes a seat before the wolf the same way he did when they were buried under the snow and stone of a Soviet site.

"She isn't dead, as I've led you to believe."

"So you do know what I'm talking about. Spare me, I know she's alive. Your son told me. I'm sure he could enlighten you as to why if he's even the same Phoenix I knew, or if he can remember."

"Did Phoenix tell you where I hid her?"

"He didn't," Ziegler says, glaring out of the circular window to the driveway far below.

"Wouldn't you like to know where she is?"

Ziegler pulls at his coat, brushing dust off it as he taps his foot to the rhythm of his rage.

"Are you withholding that information based on the condition I do what you ask of me?"

"No. I ask you go look for her to leave all of this behind."

"We both know that's never going to happen."

"I thought desperately chasing after the past was what you do best?"

Ziegler repositions the toppled chess piece on the table before them, deep in thought.

"Arrive at Xochitl's front door and implant yourself into her life and tell me how that goes for you. Move on, Thaddeus."

"Xochitl is gone," Thaddeus says somberly.

Ziegler bares a menacing row of sharp fangs as he grins.

"You're lying, I can hear it in your voice. Aarden has proven to us that we can step back in time and fix things before they're even broken to begin with instead of repeatedly trying to piece them back together."

Something arises within Thaddeus; a desperation Ziegler can sense and exploit.

"Do you really think he can get her back?"

"I guarantee it. All we need to do is trigger our contingency."

Thaddeus rises, facing out the curved window toward the setting sun and conservatory.

"Everything I've held so dearly suddenly doesn't matter anymore. I gave up everything for them and they never amounted to anything. I wish I could--

Sensing what's coming, the lion abandons hope. He's halfway to the door when Ziegler's voice echoes through the chamber.

"I warned you, years ago. I told you I wouldn't end until I possessed the Zenith Crown in it's entirety, not just the part you permitted me to escape with as a consolation. It wasn't until years later when I realized I wasn't talking about that enigmatic source of power, I was referring to the enigmatic beings born from that power. They live wasted in your shadow, fearful of the power they possess. Well, I saw them demonstrate their full potential, and it was terrifying. I'm determined now more than ever to push them beyond that limit and have them lose control the way they did in London. If the rest of them are capable of even half of that, there's no stopping them, and that's what you're afraid of, isn't it?"

Thaddeus glares at the red eyes shining in the darkness.

"That will never happen. I've tried, but they're untamable. I'm filled with so much regret, but knowing you isn't one of them."

"We'll see about that," Ziegler says, pulling the cork off a bottle with his powerful molars and drinking deeply.

"You do remember the contingency, don't you?"

***

The following morning.

Zephyr is afraid to fall asleep. Not wanting to fade into the darkness and wake up as something else, he spends most of his nights staring up into the ceiling until the first light of dawn allows him to greet his own marred reflection in the polished wood. Some nights he's unable to fight it off and he falls asleep, but it's hard to tell how often that is as everything feels like a nightmare.

So much has changed since the last time he was himself. Only half the wolf he once was, it took an entire excruciating week for Zephyr to push his mind into readapting his own body to walk again. Through reflection, Zephyr follows the patchwork of scars on his face with his eyes, loathing how much they make him appear more like his father.

Zephyr has been too busy pushing his body to its limits to find the time to ravage his heart enough to face his father, having dedicated the last several weeks just trying to find the courage to face himself and the horrors he must've committed.

Tired of thinking, the gaunt wolf slips warm socks onto his feet and strides silently toward the kitchen where he meets Kamala, who struggles to master the controls of their coffee machine.

"Do you know how much coffee Aarden goes through each day? It was never my thing, but he's gotten me into it, I think it's the way he makes it," she says.

"I hardly know a thing about him other than I owe him everything," Zephyr says softly, his voice still weak.

"He takes some getting used to, but he's a good kid," Kamala says, trying not to notice how exhausted he looks.

"He's not a kid anymore," Zephyr reminds her as he takes a seat by a small round table.

"He was the last time I saw him. He's been through a lot, but he's sweet once you get to know him."

"Hopefully not as sweet as that coffee you're making," Zephyr says, chuckling as Kamala pours in her seventh spoonful of sugar.

"You should try some, you look like you haven't slept in days."

"The last thing I need is overstimulation," Zephyr says as he reads a faded newspaper from several years ago.

"Still trying to catch up?"

The wolf tosses the papers aside.

"Too much has changed. That's why I like the manor, everything in here is exactly how I remember it. Beyond the garden? It's like a whole other world. I'm afraid to admit it scares me."

Kamala places a hand atop of his.

"I know how you feel. Stepping back outside after losing so much can be painful. But it's worth it, if only to move on."

Zephyr takes a sip from Kamala's cup, forcing the sugary drink back down when it threatens to come back up his throat. The laugh they share is worth the pain that comes with it, as his lungs burn with every breath.

"Were you able to move on?" Zephyr asks after a moment of silence.

Kamala is quick to respond.

"I mean, how could I?"

"Did you find someone else?"

"Zephyr--

Phoenix throws the door open and stumbles in, missing every other step on his way to dig through the fridge. The lion crouches down, filling his arms with items until he has to bury his sharp teeth into a loaf of bread to carry it.

"Couldn't sleep?" Zephyr asks, thankful he can change the conversation.

"Who said anything about sleep? No, I'm just getting in. I wanted to see Singh and Quinn off before they head back to England."

"Glad to know some things haven't changed," Zephyr says.

Phoenix closes the fridge door with his hips and leans against the sink, arranging all of the ingredients he needs.

"This timeline's version of myself must've been a real jerk because every time I head into town, I have someone screaming in my face about not calling back or something. It makes dating hard, which is a shame because I swear this timeline has much prettier stags and does. Have you noticed, or is that just me?"

Phoenix finishes a carton of milk, wiping his chin as he leans on a counter creaking from his weight.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Phoenix asks, noticing Zephyr and Kamala's eyes shift everywhere but back into one another.

***

Although Aarden understands the decision to stay was his to make, he doesn't understand why it still hurts so much to go through with it, even after rationalizing it over a long, sleepless night.

He walks down the wide staircase to meet the others in the early morning air, feeling much more like himself now that his back is healing.

In the stone driveway, Quinn throws a small backpack over her shoulders as Soraya Singh packs her new suitcases into the back of Fletcher's car. The panther looks above, catching a glimpse of Ziegler as he smiles menacingly down at her, waving. Her short time in the manor was lonely, with everything between her and her twins left unspoken.

Kamala glares angrily at Singh. She knows the silence will haunt her, as this may be the last chance she will ever have to ask the questions consuming her. Maybe it's because she's been trained so well to control her emotions that she's made herself incapable of feeling, or maybe it's because some wounds run too deep to heal, but Kamala says nothing as her mother stares blankly at the distant town as Quinn says her goodbyes.

Marina Fletcher is the first to approach the group, happy to see them all united since the day they nearly lost Zephyr.

"It's been so long, but I'm excited to see London properly this time," she tells them.

"I'm glad I could convince you to come along," Quinn says with a smile as she shakes Phoenix's hand.

"You've earned it," Kamala says, feigning a smile while breaking her gaze from her mother.

"Will you ever return?" Kyran asks, the sadness in his voice apparent.

Fletcher glares up at the wolf above her. Ziegler smiles, tapping his claws on the glass before disappearing back into the shadows.

"Of course, I will, but not while he's still around. Be careful with him, trust only in one another," she whispers to Kyran, who nods before teleporting back to the doorway.

Fletcher finds Aarden in the back of the crowd after speaking with Indigo.

"There you are. I wanted to give you something before I left. Kamala can explain it better," she says, handing him the original, battered Zeitkanone the Zenith took from Ziegler when they subdued him in the basement the night Aarden was hurt.

"I polarized the steel so that it insulates the unstable Zenith crystal from our original timeline. That should allow you to keep this one safe without it interfering with the rest of the Zenith Crown. Or it can come in handy during an emergency. I figure that would be the best use for your original cannon," Kamala says.

Aarden grasps it, the hum of the Zenith Crown subdued as if it were in hibernation.

"Thank you. I'll keep this somewhere safe."

Fletcher pats Aarden's shoulder before turning to face the rest of the group. She grips Zephyr's hand in hers and caresses it gently.

"I'm so happy to see you again. I still feel responsible--

"We all have some pain to work through, but I'm thankful for your help."

Fletcher embraces the others closely and waves at Kyran who leans against the doorframe alongside Thaddeus as the wind pushes his long hair underneath his glasses.

"I hope to see you again," Kamala says to Quinn.

"I hope so too, just not too soon. Come back to London sometime, we can do something normal for a change."

"It was nice meeting you all, and good luck with Thorne. If you're lucky, you can save a second life from Ziegler's manipulation," Fletcher says softly after pulling from Kamala's hug.

Quinn and Aarden stand before each other, the short distance between them feeling vast. Despite rehearsing before the tall mirror in his temporary bedroom, Aarden still finds himself at a loss for the words he was so certain he'd remember.

"I'll see you again soon, once it's all done," Quinn reassures him, "then we can get to know each other, or catch up in your case."

"I know. But when I see you again, I don't just want to do something normal."

Quinn smiles, her eyes barely visible underneath the fringe of hair above her eyebrows as she droops her muzzle downward.

"There's nothing normal about you Aarden, that's what makes it fun."

"I wrote you a letter," Aarden says, feeling naked as he instinctively reaches for the pocket of his satin jacket, only to find the unfamiliar material of a blazer. He sighs and pulls a teal envelope from the pocket of his jeans.

"Save it for when I see you again."

Quinn kisses Aarden gently and hugs him for a moment she wishes felt more like forever. She steps into Fletchers car and waves, tears rolling down her face.

"Did I miss something, or were Aarden and Quinn always a thing?" Phoenix whispers to Indigo, who shrugs and waves at the car traveling down the dirt road until it's out of sight past the redwood lined highway.

Aarden soaks his bright blue sleeves with tears, knowing he made the right choice even if everything inside him wishes he'd joined Quinn on the other side.

But it's Phoenix's hand clamping firmly down on one shoulder, Indigo's hand reaching up to gently grip the other shoulder, Kamala's soft head resting on his upper arm, Zephyr's coarse palms patting his back, and Kyran giving him a firm nod as they walk back into the manor, that remind Aarden he's found his family, and they still have work to do.

There was a time when Aarden was afraid of becoming extraordinary, just by being ordinary compared to the others. Now, years later, he understands his fears were unfounded. He belongs to this group not because of the extraordinary things he'll one day be able to do, but because he understands what it's like to feel all alone in total darkness, searching for something in the uncertainty and isolation.

He now realizes that's what makes him a Zenith, the pride he takes in being unapologetically extraordinary.