The mountain air is thin and cold, but the slope ahead is alive — horses stamping, a wagon creaking, people bundled in cloaks moving about like a small migrating village.
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Metro, Archeus, and Cornelius crest the ridge.
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Cornelius whistles low.
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Archeus adjusts his cloak, muttering something about frostbite.
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Metro just smiles — he sees them down below.
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Blake turns, squints—
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Blake:
METRO!
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His voice cracks across the valley.
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Rose’s blankets slip from her shoulders. She sprints — full speed, hair flying, boots kicking up snow.
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Metro hops off Sally mid‑stride, landing light, already walking toward her.
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Cornelius grabs Sally’s reins with a proud little nod, like he’s doing something heroic.
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Rose collides into Metro’s chest.
He catches her, lifts her clean off the ground, spins her once — her laugh breaking into a sob against his neck.
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Blake barrels in right behind her, nearly tripping over himself.
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Then the whole crew swarms.
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Hands on Metro’s shoulders.
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Arms around him.
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Someone ruffles his hair.
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Someone else wipes their eyes.
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Questions fly over each other — “Where were you?” “Are you hurt?” “Did you eat?” “Is that your horse?” “Who’s the guy with the sword?”
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Laughter mixes with tears.
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It’s messy.
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It's loud.
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It's perfect.
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Metro, still holding Rose with one arm, gestures toward Cornelius.
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Metro:
“This is Cornelius. He’s with us now.”
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Cornelius straightens like he’s being knighted.
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Archeus clears his throat loudly, pointing his quill toward the narrow trail leading deeper into the mountain pass.
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Archeus:
“And I will be guiding us the rest of the way… (eyes narrow at Cornelius), assuming no one else threatens to throw my maps off a cliff.”
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Cornelius rolls his eyes.
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Metro grins.
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Rose squeezes his bicep.
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Blake claps him on the back again.
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The family close rank around Metro as they begin walking — the wagon starts to creak forward, horses snorting, snow crunching under dozens of boots.
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Metro is home again.
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and then Add to home screen.