Two years, one month after the Invasion...
Tal waited until the girl had left the room, eyes locked on her retreating back. He crossed his arms and turned to face Dexter, face losing its jovial look.
"By all means, ask what you're thinking," Dexter prompted, staring up at him from behind his glasses.
Tal spared him a quick smile, sobering just a fast. "When did this happen, exactly? What day, what month?"
The boy genius looked down at the floor. "It's as you fear. It happened on June 28th. Your birthday."
There was a loud thump as Tal drove his fist into the table, ignoring the burst of pain. Dexter looked up sharply, gaze locking on his friend. The boy's face was livid, eyes blazing and mouth set in a grim line. His arm trembled, locked against the wood as though trying to break through.
"Tal? Are you going to be alright?" Dexter asked, rising.
The boy shut his eyes, tears leaking from beneath the tight lids. His arm crumpled and he leaned onto the table, head bowed. He swore, over and over, before falling silent.
Dexter stood beside him, unsure of what to do.
After a minute, Tal straightened and fixed his friend with a dark stare. "So the Devourer has come, huh? Guess I shouldn't have volunteered for that experiment after all."
"I doubt you would have made a difference," Dexter replied, returning Tal's look with a blank one. "One person could not have made a difference..."
"You don't know that," he burst out, slapping his hand against the table. "How can you possibly know that? Maybe I could have done something! I'm supposed to fight him, to protect everyone...!" His voice cracked and he stopped, staring with wide eyes at the boy genius.
"I know what you've been told you destiny is, but I cannot believe that a single sword could have made a difference." Dexter closed his eyes, rubbing his temple. "Though I suppose we'll find out what several hundred can do..." he continued.
"What d'you mean by that?" Tal asked, relaxing. Here was something familiar- having no clue what his friend was talking about.
"I plan on sending all of you back and preventing this future from happening." He smiled.
"What?"
"Never mind. It's nothing of concern. For now, we should probably take Brightstream's advice. Sleep would indeed do us good." Dexter sat down on the couch, casually staking his claim.
Tal rolled his eyes. Typical of him, to take the most comfortable spot in the room. He sighed and sank into one of the overstuffed chairs, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. The lights dimmed automatically, probably Computress's doing. It had been a long day... But something was bothering him.
"Dex?"
"What?" The boy genius sounded surly.
Tal cracked an eye open and looked over at the couch, where the other boy had stretched out. He blinked. "Were you scared?"
"What?" He now sounded surprised, and almost angry.
"When the Devourer... Fuse... showed up. Were you scared?"
It took a while for him to answer. "...yes, I was, but I swallowed it in order to fight."
"And when we disappeared into the time stream?"
An even longer pause. "...yes. I was very scared."
"And how did you get over it?"
"I didn't." Dexter sat up and gave Tal a long look. "I never stopped being afraid until Brightstream showed up this morning."
"So why are you still scared now?"
Utter silence. Finally; "Am I that transparent?"
"To me you are. You've changed since... since, but I can tell that you're scared of something."
Dexter looked up at the ceiling. "It's nothing that concerns you."
"You're my friend. It concerns me, so spill."
"I..." Dexter turned and looked at Tal, who opened his other eye and sat up, waiting. "I am... I'm afraid of tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
He let out a short, bitter laugh. "It's been every tomorrow for two years. The end of the world, Tal. That's what tomorrow always is now."
"I'll stop it," Tal said, without thought, without hesitation, drawing a thoughtful glance from Dexter.
"Yes. You will," the boy said, and oddly, he felt calmer. He sighed and leaned back. "Now, goodnight, Tal."
"Yeah, you, too, Dex. See you in the morning."