Tobias opened his eyes, and lifted his head up. His hair was unkempt. His clothing was dirty, as was his skin. He was thin, unfed for God knew how long, looking past the point of anorexia, nearly to the point of death.

He was in the gutter. Lost. He had no reason to live.

The future looked bright so long ago. So bright, and so reachable. Never once had he and his companions thought that, with all the progress they had made, loosing was an option. They had so much luck, they all simply took it for granted. He had known, somehow, in the unconscious back of his mind, that this luck would not last. Luck always ran out. It was just a matter of time.

He had his wings. He had his heightened sight, better-than-human hearing, and talons harder than any human's fingertips. He was the bird-boy. The eyes and ears of the group. He was supposed to warn them of any danger.

He had failed.

They were taken in their sleep. He had been taking a break right after their mission, out hunting, gone for a minute. A minute! One lousy freakin' minute! They were tranquilized by five of the best controlled assassins in the galaxy. Brought to the pool without struggle. Infested, forced to demorph.

It was over. All over.

Then came the hell of hiding, having to watch the free hork-bajir tortured for being 'traitors to the yeerk empire'. The chee, unable to be controlled by their technology-impaired captors, were dismantled. That in itself was a near impossible job for the yeerks, and Tobias cheered with each accidental fire started.

And so, with the eyes once used for spying, he watched the world fall apart. And he aged. The planet changed, and so did he. Feathers grayed as skies browned. Vision dimmed as did hopes. Talons dulled as did his wishes. Eventually, dreams stopped and so did his heart.

He demorphed before he could die. Maybe he needed to keep the battle going. Maybe the hope he thought he had lost so long ago wasn't truly gone. Maybe he just needed to see the planet die. No matter the reason, Tobias the hawk died, and out of the ashes rose Tobias the human. A regular freakin' phoenix.

He had stolen food. Not to mention clothing, travel provisions, and a small amount of weapons. He had freed a humble quantity of children. Maybe forty, in total. Taught them to hunt. To grow food. Taught them first aid. Taught them to read, to write, to use the old computer parts left discarded. Put them in the old hork-bajir valley. The Ellimist would protect them, he knew that much. The free human race would go on, and he had made his contribution to the future. He was free to die.

Yet, for some reason, death would not come. He had spent his last few days in a half sleeping stupor, dreaming of what could have been, and what was. The joys of flying. The jolt caused by finding out who his father really was. The content feeling that hanging out with the gang had brought him, simply listening to Ax test out sounds and Marco and Rachel banter. He could almost see the children he and Rachel could have had, should have had. With each vision, he felt more pain. With each dream, he sought death more aggressively.

Finally, after what seemed like years of unwanted life, he wept. For the first time since childhood, he wept. And he could not stop. He needed to cry for all he had lost. He needed the tears to come.

After hours, the sobs that shook his frail body slowed, before stopping completely. He felt exhausted, but strangely at peace. This was the change he had waited so long for. This was his soul, undertaking the same change his body had so long ago. Rising out of the phoenix's ashes, anew.

Slowly, Tobias the Animorph lowered his head back into the gutter. And his existence withdrew into the ashes.