Wildwing felt strangely removed from the situation around him as he watched Drake and the others say their goodbyes. Nothing was touching him; he felt as if he was separated from everyone and everything else in the world, as if a sheet of clear plastic was stretched tight around him, muffling the real world, cutting down on its impact.

Realistically, he knew what was going on with him. The plastic was really a mental shield, blocking the entire world out, not letting anything in. People were hollow, sensations dulled, in a way they had never been, even before he'd learned about the Power. Nothing was real. He liked it that way.

He was numb. Emotionally, physically, mentally. Numb everywhere, except for the fire that burned in the back of his mind, a searing pain where Nosedive’s presence used to be.

He ignored the quick glance Mallory sent him as Drake explained the changes in the timeline. More death in the air, but he brushed it aside as one of the ten million things that couldn't hurt him right now.

Tremaine startled Tanya with a hug, a sudden burst of love and gratitude surprising Wildwing as it almost made its way through his shields. He watched the young girl join her cousins. "Be careful," Tremaine warned her. "Somehow the Saurians will be coming to Earth. Soon. You need to be ready for them."

"We will be," Wildwing replied for her. Tremaine gave him a startled look, but, like so much else, he ignored it. "Good luck. And thank you." That last was honest, and heartfelt. No matter what else had happened - his heart and mind shied away from the direction that thought was going in - if it hadn't been for these three, Wildwing's team would never have had any warning of Dragaunus' plans. The potential for disaster would have been catastrophic. He held back an internal shudder at the thought of the future Tremaine and Drake had described to them. No… anything was worth avoiding that.

Anything? A voice demanded of him. Even this?

Canard met his gaze and smiled. "With any luck, you'll see us in about ten years."

"Except for Tremaine. She's more like fifteen. Never was on time," Drake teased his cousin. Tremaine started and stuck her tongue out at him. Then silence prevailed as they pulled each other into a three-way embrace and triggered the recalls that would return them to a world that no longer existed.

A piercing knife's edge of pain sliced through Wildwing's skull, stealing the breath from his lungs and forcing him to his knees. He gasped, trying to breathe, but the pain was so intense… he was on fire and freezing at the same time. One shaking hand clutched at his head, while the other braced him against the floor. Then another wave of pain broke over him and his strength gave out entirely and he collapsed onto the floor, barely aware of his teammates gathering around him, their voices raised in worried exclamations, cognizant only of the pain tearing through him, the taste of something dark that ripped through his mind…

…and somewhere, very, very far away…

…a glimmer of light, a star falling to earth.

Then everything exploded in a supernova of agony, and he let go of his tenuous grip on consciousness.

Wildwing’s head pounded fiercely and every muscle in his body ached like he’d just gone ten rounds with Dragaunus himself. He took a deep breath, winced, and only then realized that he was laying on something that felt like… carpet?

He didn’t move for a minute, willing the aching in his head to subside. Slowly, it did, and he pushed himself upright, opening his eyes and taking a look around. He very nearly closed them again.

He wasn’t in the Pond. Not the infirmary, which judging by the way he felt at the moment, was where he was certain he’d have been. He was in a living room. In and of itself, that was slightly odd, as Wildwing’s last memory was of being in the Ready Room, saying goodbye to Tremaine, Drake and Canard. What made it stranger, was that Wildwing was prepared to swear it was a Puckworld living room.

He struggled to his feet and looked around. There was a hol-v on the far side of the room, something that simply didn’t exist on Earth, where plain TV itself was still fairly new. The carpet was plush, the furniture comfortable looking. Photos hung here and there on the wall. It was all comfortable and welcoming. The room was the very image of a typical living room back on Puckworld. Well, slightly above typical; whoever lived there was probably fairly wealthy, but all in all… Where am I?

Voices penetrated the slight fog that still surrounded his mind. The voices he heard were almost familiar, but not those of his teammates.

"Can I hold? Can I?" an excited child’s voice rang out from the next room.

"Of course you can," A woman’s voice replied. "Why don’t you go sit on the couch? We don’t want to accidentally drop him."

There was an excited shout, and footsteps raced toward the room. A young duck child – definitely Puckworld, then - burst through the doorway into the room, racing toward the couch. Wildwing stepped back and tried to look unthreatening, not wanting to frighten the child, but the young boy ran past Wildwing without so much as a glance, vaulting onto the couch. Two adults followed at a more sedate pace – his parents, Wildwing knew. They too, didn’t seem to notice him.

They were glowing.

The little boy on the couch was surrounded by a soft sky-blue light, rich and brilliant in color, if not intensity. The father was a violet, not quite as bright as the boy, but close. He looked somehow familiar to Wildwing, as if they’d met somewhere before, and he searched his memory, trying to remember when he’d seen this man before.

The mother had only the slightest hint of a golden glow about her, so vague Wildwing could barely see it, and probably would have ignored if he hadn’t been looking for it. But the bundle she held in her arms… The baby was surrounded by a brilliant royal blue, so rich and thick Wildwing almost thought he could reach out and touch it.

She too, looked somehow familiar…

"All set, Karek?" the mother asked. The boy – Karek – nodded and held out his arms as the mother leaned down and carefully set the baby down in his grasp. "Meet your new brother," she smiled sweetly.

Karek settled the baby in his arms and as Wildwing watched, the blue glow – aura? – surrounding them both reached out, merged, mixed. For an instant the light was intense and Wildwing raised a hand involuntarily against it, protecting his eyes, then it lessened, settled back. The color had evened, the baby’s no longer quite so deep, Karek’s no longer so soft. A perfect mix of the two was what remained.

Wildwing knew, somehow, that he’d just witnessed something important.

The mother hadn’t so much as blinked, but the father was regarding his children with wide eyes and a startled expression. The mother didn’t seem to notice her husband’s surprise. "Look at this," she said happily. "They’re getting along so well!"

"We need a name for him," the father said soberly, watching his children with an odd expression. No longer startled, now intense. Wildwing frowned at him, not liking the look on this man’s face, or what it probably meant.

"Cheyn," the mother objected, looking up from the children, "we’ve already chosen a name. You wanted to name him Falcon, after your father."

Cheyn shook his head slowly. "It’s not fitting," he said softly. "Not for him. For them."

The mother was starting to look worried as she tugged at his arm, dragging Cheyn’s attention away from the children, who seemed oblivious of the discussion between their parents. "What are you talking about?"

"Look at them." She turned, frowning, to watch her two children. He caught her arm. "No, Avis – look at them!" There was a touch of the Power – Wildwing sensed it, and his eyes widened – and Avis was suddenly staring, mouth agape. "My… by the stars... Cheyn, they’re-"

"Bonded. Linked," Cheyn spoke in a hushed voice. "Joined. In three minutes they’ve created a bond stronger than the one we’ve built in the seventeen years we’ve known each other."

"They have the Power," Avis murmured. "Karek’s as strong as you. Stronger. And the baby…"

"He needs a name," Cheyn repeated. "I watched them Join, Avis, I saw the merging and I felt something shift around me. These two-"

Avis looked up at her husband. "Could this have something to do with your family?"

"The Ducaine Legacy," Cheyn murmured.

"Ducaine?!" the words tore themselves free without conscious thought on Wildwing’s part as he stared incredulously at Cheyn. Ducaine? This man was a Ducaine? Wildwing’s gaze was torn between the man and the two children, the vague sense of familiarity now making so much more sense. "Great Mother of Ducks..." he breathed.

"Jaeden."

Cheyn glanced at his wife. "Jaeden?"

"His name." Avis looked pale and unsteady, her voice wavered slightly. "Karek will be the Guardian. Jaeden, the Harbinger, the Herald." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Great Mother."

Cheyn said nothing. "Karek and Jaeden," he finally whispered. "Avis, are you certain?"

"It’s my only skill in the Power," she said softly. "It doesn’t always work, I know, but this time it is. Most of the path is in shadows, but that much is clear."

Wildwing shook his head. "Herald? Paths? What is going on? Where am I?" No one so much as blinked at him. He stared helplessly at them. "Where the hell am I?"

"Dreaming."

The familiar voice seared through Wildwing’s mind, soothing the burning remnants of a shattered bond, healing a pain that he’d expected to live with for the rest of his life. In it’s wake was a rush of energy, soothing and exhilarating at the same time. The relief was overwhelming, his legs nearly gave out on him. He braced himself, and closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind, half-expecting to still be greeted by the searing pain that had resulted in his every attempt to use the bond since it had been broken.

Since Nosedive had died.

There was no pain. Only softness, warmth, love.

Wildwing let the feeling rush through him, over him. "Dive," he said hoarsely, the name tearing at his throat, a muted scream no louder than a whisper. "Dive."

He turned, acting on instinct, and he was there.

Nosedive. Looking different than he had the last time Wildwing had seen him. He was dressed in normal clothes instead of his uniform, and he looked tired, pale, with a bandage wrapped thick around his upper left arm, but none of it mattered. "How?" Wildwing managed. "A dream? It can’t be." The idea that this was only a dream to fade and vanish was unbearable and he automatically reached for the bond again, confirming its reality.

Nosedive smiled, a gentle, wistful expression. "You have to wake up now."

"No." And go back to a world where Dive was dead and Wildwing was alone? "I want – Dive, what’s going on here?"

Something dark flickered in Dive’s gaze and as he caught Wing’s gaze for an instant, he looked scared. "They’re coming."

Wildwing didn’t have to ask whom. The knowledge burned along the bond, a weight suddenly pressing down on both their minds.

"You have to go," Dive said wistfully. "You have to warn the others."

"Dive…" Wildwing reached out tentatively, pausing before actually touching his brother.

Dive reached out to cover the last few inches, twining his fingers with his brother’s.

"You’re alive?" Wildwing hadn’t meant it to be a question, had meant it to be relief, joy, not fear that colored his voice.

Dive smiled. "It’ll be all right. I miss you, bro. I really miss you. It’s so strange not to have you here with me."

No more than three meters away, the wall behind Cheyn and Avis exploded inward before anyone could react, sending them both to the floor beneath its weight. Their cries were drowned out by the screams of the children only feet away.

"What the hell?" Wildwing pulled away from Dive, taking a few steps toward the children.

Four darkly-clad Puckworld men burst into the room through the fallen wall. Two of them raced across the room toward the children, while the others stood guard over the unmoving parents. The first two grabbed the children, tearing Jaeden from Karek’s arms, ignoring their screams. One of them said something in a language Wildwing only vaguely recognized. "Saurian?" he asked incredulously. "That’s Saurian!"

Another voice called out and they started to rush out the way they’d come in. One remained behind, and lowered his weapon, opening fire on the unmoving figures of Cheyn and Avis. A small pool of blood began to seep across the ground, while Wildwing watched in horror. Then he too left the way he’d come, running back through the wall, leaving destruction behind him.

"Who were they?" Wildwing demanded hoarsely. He spun back around to face his brother, but Dice was gone, and in his place stood a young Puckworld woman with quiet eyes. "Run," she commanded softly, and in the heartbeat that followed, the world around them disappeared into an inferno.

Mallory leaned back in her chair, boneless, limp and unmoving. Her arms hung over the sides and her head was dropped back, leaving her staring blankly at the ceiling. She was exhausted and numb. It was the oddest sensation. She was tired clear through to her bones, to the point where it was taking effort to breath, let alone move. The entire world around her was blurred and distant, almost as if she’d been anesthetized.

Actually, that sounded like a good idea.

It was nearly midnight. Eight hours ago, Tremaine, Drake and Canard had been dead for eight hours. Wildwing had been comatose for eight hours.

She closed her eyes.

Some part of her still capable mind was contemplating was a royally crappy few weeks it had been for the McDrake family.

It was almost midnight. Then Duke would relieve her.

The infirmary was dark with all but one light turned off and silent. Mallory was undisturbed by even her own breathing. Nothing stirred and she felt the exhaustion tugging at her, pulling her toward sleep. She resisted, unwilling to fall asleep while on watch. As soon as Duke arrived at midnight-

Great Mother of Ducks, why wasn’t it midnight yet?

The time immediately following Wildwing’s collapse was a blur of adrenaline and fear. Grin had carried Wildwing to the infirmary while Tanya had theorized about possible explanations for his attack: exhaustion, grief, unbalanced diet, psychic backlash from the deaths of the three time travelers, low blood sugar… It had gone on. In the end all they’d been able to do was make sure he was comfortable, and leave Mallory to watch over him with a promise to relieve her soon. Then, with nothing else they could do, they’d stumbled off to bed.

Well-deserved too. Mallory’s thoughts were dulled and couldn’t come up with amore descriptive term than "really bad" to describe the current situation. Nosedive was dead. Dragaunus was going to take over the world, downtown Anaheim was going to need serious construction work to repair the damage done by the High Lord, three good people had ceased to exist, an invasion army was very likely heading their way and now their leader was in a coma.

"Bad" didn’t begin to cover it.

Almost midnight, then sleep.

Wildwing chose that moment to start screaming.

The first gut-wrenching howl sent Mallory leaping to her feet and nearly across the room, her heart pounding and all thoughts of sleep vanished. The second cry was softer but no less fearful, and in the dim light she could see Wildwing kicking and thrashing on the bed.

"Wildwing!" Mallory hurried to his side and took him by the shoulders, avoiding his struggles. "Wildwing, wake up! It’s Mallory. It’s all right. You’re safe here. It’s okay."

His eyes snapped open with a startled gasp and he was staring straight at her. "Burning," he said hoarsely. "It’s burning, we have to leave."

Mallory breathed a sigh of relief. He was awake, thank the stars. "It’s all right, Wildwing. Nothing’s burning."

His eyes narrowed and he calmed, struggles ceasing as he leaned back against the pillows. "Not yet," he replied cryptically. "Where are we?"

"The infirmary," she told him, releasing her grip on his shoulders. "You passed out. We brought you down here almost eight hours ago."

He struggled to a sitting position, looking worn and sore. "Eight hours. Damn. Where are the others?"

"Asleep. It’s been a rough couple days."

A flicker of emotion crossed his face and was gone. "We need to get everyone together. They’re coming."

"Coming?" Mallory repeated. "Who’s coming?"

"The Saurians," he grated. "The gateway’s been opened."

Something heavy settled in Mallory’s gut. "That’s not good. We have to prepare-"

"No!" Wildwing cut her off sharply. "Mallory, they’re here! We have to get out now."

"Are you-"

The blare of Drake One’s alarm pierced the night, cutting her off only a second before a thunderclap rocked the building.

Not thunder, Mallory realized. It was-

"Explosions," Wildwing said grimly. "We’re under attack."

Another explosion, this one louder and stronger. Mallory gripped the side of the infirmary bed as the floor shook beneath her feet. How did they find us?!"

"Dragaunus knows where we live," Wildwing said grimly. "Half the planet knows where we live. We haven’t exactly kept a low profile."

"Oh. Yeah." Mallory scowled as another explosion ripped through the Pond. "That’s a good point."

The infirmary doors slid open and the other three members of the team rushed in, Duke in the lead. Without pausing to comment on Wildwing’s revived state, he said flatly, "We’re under attack. It looks bad, Wildwing. They haven’t penetrated to the sublevels yet, but the rink, the offices; everything above-ground is gone."

Moving stiffly, Wildwing swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as a new round of explosions shook them. "We have to evacuate." He faced their surprised looks. "The Saurian force is too strong for us to defeat, especially caught off guard like this. Fighting now would be suicide." He looked around the infirmary quickly. "The Mask? I had it before I collapsed. We’re going to need it."

Mallory found herself nodding in agreement, as much as she hated to. "We have no idea what’s up there. It would be a tactical disaster to go up against them like this."

Tanya pulled it from the drawer beside the bed. "Here, Wildwing."

Duke looked grim. "Evacuating won’t be easy. If they penetrate the sublevels, the hangar could be compromised. Plus, who knows what’ll be waiting for us once we get out?"

"Better than waiting to be blown up!" Tanya pointed out. "I say we get out of here!"

As if in agreement, another series of explosions rocked the building.

The race to the hangar was something out of a nightmare.

Drake One’s alarm blared around them, echoing through the halls, seeming to pursue them. Wildwing ignored the pain in his head, the soreness throughout his body, pushing himself as hard as he could. His mind searched the building, trying desperately to find some sense of how strong the enemy was, or where they were, but his search turned up nothing. The explosions grew stronger by the minute, until with one thunderous shock, he was thrown off his feet, hitting the floor hard. The siren was abruptly silenced.

Wildwing pushed himself to his feet, trying to keep himself standing on shaky legs.

Tanya looked shaky herself. "They’ve penetrated the sublevels. They could be here any second now."

"Run!" Wildwing grated fiercely. "The hangar!"

Their race was even more desperate now, their footsteps echoing in the new silence. Wildwing couldn’t help but fear that every corner they turned would reveal the Saurians laying in wait and the memory of black-clad killers and a fireball of destruction haunted him. "I can’t sense anything," he reported, frustrated. "They’re blocking me somehow!"

"We’re here!" Duke called out, and Wildwing was almost surprised. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t realized they had reached the hangar. The doors were sealed shut, but Grin pried them open and ushered them through.

"Get the Aerowing started," Wildwing ordered. "Grin, Duke, get the Duckcycles from the Migrator. We’ll need them." He ushered Tanya ahead of him as they raced for the Aerowing. Mallory – Wildwing grinned – made a race for the weapons locker.

Wildwing started the launch sequence hurriedly even as Duke and Grin began loading the Duckcycles into the Aerowing. Mallory clambered up the ramp with an armful of weaponry that looked like it could fulfil the needs of a small country’s military. Tanya looked over her shoulder from her seat in the co-pilot’s chair. "As soon as I open the hangar, they’ll be on us. Get settled in, this is gonna be fast and rough."

"Engines are ready. Weapons primed," Wildwing reported. "Full power."

Mallory stowed the munitions in the weapons locker and threw herself forward into the cockpit, buckling herself into the gunner’s seat. "I’ve got gunner, Wildwing! Readying laser cannons!"

Duke and Grin buckled themselves into their seats. "The Duckcycles are stowed and locked down!" Duke reported sharply.

"Opening hangar," Tanya called out. "Hold on!"

The force of acceleration pushed Wildwing back in his seat as Tanya sent the Aerowing into the fullest speed she could manage without sending them out of control. Wildwing kept his eyes on the navigation panel. "Damnit! Navigation isn’t showing me anything!"

Mallory cursed. "Nothing showing up on weapons sensors either!"

"Clearing the hangar! Entering open air space!" Tanya reported. "Be ready, Mallory!"

"My eyes are open, for all the good it’s doing me!" Mallory called back. "If they have cloaking devices we won’t see them coming!"

"Wildwing, any luck sensing them?" Duke called out.

"Still nothing!"

"The Mask?"

Wildwing slipped the Mask of Ducaine out of the belt pouch he’d placed it in and put it on. "I don’t see- Incoming! Three o’clock!"

"Defense shields up!" Mallory shouted. "Readying counter-fire!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Tanya called out. "Wildwing, how are we doing?"

"I can’t tell," Wildwing reported. "They’re fading in and out. They must’ve made some changes to the cloaking system since Dragaunus left. I don’t think the Mask will be able to do us much good."

That brought a tense silence to the group. "Oh stars," Mallory moaned. "This just gets worse and worse…"

"Another incoming!" Wildwing called.

Tanya pushed the Aerowing into a tight turn. "The missiles are showing up on sensors, but not the ships!"

"I’m opening fire on the origins of the missiles," Mallory said. "With luck, I’ll be able to do some damage."

"Go for it," Wildwing approved. "It can’t hurt. Tanya, as soon as she gets off a few good shots, we’re getting out of here. With luck, they’ll be expecting us to fight, and we’ll take them by surprise when we pull out."

"Understood," they chorused. "Preparing to fire opening salvo now," Mallory said. "Firing!"

"It looks like a hit!" Wildwing called out. "Confirmed impact!"

"Readying next round! Tanya, when I fire, that’ll be the best time to pull out!"

"Course ready!" Tanya called back. "Let them have it, Mallory!"

"Firing!"

The instant Mallory spoke, Tanya dropped the Aerowing down to within a hundred meters of ground level and accelerated. "Hold on! I’m keeping it close to the ground. If these ships are the same basic design as Dragaunus’ ship, then they’re not anywhere near as maneuverable as we are. IF we keep it tight and fast we may lose them."

"May," Mallory echoed hollowly.

"Keep an eye on sensors," Wildwing said flatly. "I’ll keep watch with the Mask."

Duke’s laugh was empty. "I’ll pray."

It was the early hours of morning before they felt safe enough to stop. Tanya set the Aerowing down on the shoreline, in a small inlet, surrounding by cliffs and forest. There were no people, no fishing lanes, no civilization whatsoever.

They were silent as they set about camouflaging their presence as best they could. Wildwing said nothing as he worked, dragging tree branches from the edge of the forest, his mind preoccupied with dream images and half-formed memories of gunfire.

They settled down for the night, Duke taking first watch. Wildwing handed him the Mask before stumbling to the front of the Aerowing and falling into his seat. He heard them talking, but it was unimportant. Sleepily, he reached out with his mind, touching the pulsing, blue light in the back of his mind, wrapping himself in its warmth.

It was then, on the brink of sleep, that Wildwing realized-

-Dive had never answered his question.