Grant-4 paced back and forth in his apartment in the Tower, the afternoon following the Gambit match. He'd shed his armor and was down to a shirt and trousers. Not that the armor had done any good. Nell had gone after Donovan, mistaking him for Grant, and Donovan had showed no mercy.

"What am I to do, Sentry?" Grant said, turning to his ghost. "I assumed Nell would consult the roster and see which fighter I was. Now she thinks I destroyed her in that match. Did you see her at the end? She hates me."

"You might attempt to speak to her," Sentry suggested. "Be gentle. Explain how that wasn't you."

Grant ran a hand over his charcoal-black metal head, forcing the spiky antennae to retract. He glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Look at me, Sentry. Whether in armor or out of it, I'm monstrous. She's right to despise me. I'm this ..." He held up both metal hands, the fingers curled like claws. "This beast of a machine. Not human. Not really." He crumpled onto his bed and pulled his pillow over his face.

Sentry floated nearby, her blue and gold shell drooping, her eye emoting sadness. "I wish this hadn't happened. We never should have played Gambit."

Grant threw the pillow aside and looked up at her, his orange eyes dim. "I didn't realize I would come to admire an opponent. I assumed it was only a game. How very wrong I was." He rolled over to face the wall. "She was harmed. She blames me. Oh Nell, I'm so sorry."

Sentry watched his anguish, sharing it. More than anything, she wished to make her guardian happy. But this situation had her at a loss. How did one solve such a problem, save by communication? There had been precious little between Grant and Nell.

She was a ghost. Communication was her job.

Sentry sent a query to Hadrian, requesting a private link. After a moment, Hadrian granted it, communicating through the Light, itself. "Hello, Sentry."

"Hello," she said hesitantly. "My guardian wishes yours to know ... he was not the invader in black. That was Donovan Moorehead. Grant wore Vanguard colors."

Hadrian didn't answer for several minutes, but he didn't break the connection. Sentry hung there in midair, watching Grant lie there in misery, wondering what Hadrian was telling Nell. Surely Nell would understand.

Hadrian finally spoke again. "She just consulted the roster, herself, and confirmed. She is angry, and I think, confused. She demands to know why Grant switched colors."

"Grant," Sentry said softly, "I'm communicating with Nell's ghost. She wants to know why you changed your armor."

Grant rolled over and sat up, gazing avidly at Sentry. "Tell her ..." He rubbed the side of his head, struggling with the words. "Tell her that I wanted to show her that I meant her no harm."

Sentry relayed this. After a moment, Hadrian replied, "She is still angry. And confused. She doesn't understand. Did you conspire with your teammate to kill her with such brutality?"

When Sentry relayed this, Grant jumped to his feet. "No!" he shouted, the orange lights in his mouth at maximum brightness. "I never intended for Donovan to kill her. She targeted him."

Hadrian was quiet for some time. Grant resumed pacing, fretting.

"She's yelling," Hadrian reported. "A lot. She's convinced that your entire team was against her. She did lose, you know."

Grant opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. He sat on the bed and rubbed both hands over his face. "Please ... ask if we might meet in person. If she would only allow me to explain. I could show her that I ..." He opened his hands and stared at them. "I'm not as monstrous as I appear."

Sentry passed this along. After a moment, she said, "Hadrian recommends a week's time, at least. Nell needs to calm down. But perhaps next Wednesday? We'll arrange a meeting location."

"Yes, yes," Grant said. "Please."

Sentry confirmed this with Hadrian, then closed the link. "My dear Guardian," she murmured, flying around Grant, playing a healing beam over his head and shoulders. "I wish I could do more. Nell is angry and frightened. But maybe, once she has time to think about it ..."

Grant ran his fingertips over Sentry's shell. "My good girl," he whispered. "Always helping. Thank you. We'll see what happens."

"I don't want to meet with him!" Nell stormed. She stomped around her room, kicking her bloodstained armor and cloak against the wall. She wore a tank top and cutoff shorts that had once been pants, but were too shredded to patch.

Hadrian floated near the ceiling, out of danger. "He didn't kill you today. He stayed far from you, in fact."

"Doesn't mean he didn't set things up with his buddy," Nell growled. "They stomped us, Hadrian! And that Donovan jerk killed me so many times. I thought he was Grant. But he did fight differently." She trailed off, remembering those encounters. Donovan was one of those Titans who shoulder-charged everything. He'd trampled her like a charging rhino multiple times. At least Grant usually used weapons or his Light. She'd thought it strange that Grant had changed his fighting style. Now she knew. He'd switched gear on her.

But the more she thought about it, the more baffled she became. "Grant was wearing the Vanguard stuff! In Gambit! Why did he do that?"

"He said it was to show you he didn't want to hurt you," Hadrian said.

"It's Gambit," Nell said. "That's the game. Why would he even play if he didn't mean to hurt people?" She paced some more, thinking about the match. "He never invaded, did he? It was only ever the other guy."

"I think Grant's feelings for you are quite serious," Hadrian said.

Nell made a sound halfway between a roar and a scream. She grabbed fistfuls of her own black hair and pulled. "This is so maddening! I want to kill him! But then I don't want to kill him! Why is this happening? He's not even a real person!" She threw herself on her bed and lay there, arms spread.

Hadrian flew down and floated above her. "Exos are people."

"Robots," Nell said wearily. "Jayesh already yelled at me over this."

Hadrian's blue eye emoted sadness. "Well ... if you don't think Grant is a person ... am I not a person, either?"

"Oh, Hadrian." Nell scooped him out of the air and kissed him. "You're my ghost. Of course ghosts are people."

She let him go, and he floated beside her, over the pillow. "But ... Exos have to be people," Hadrian said. "Ghosts can bond to them. They have a spark. A soul. They couldn't be Guardians, otherwise."

Nell opened her mouth to argue, and stopped. It was such a simple observation, but it was also rock-solid evidence. Ghosts bonded to Exos. They couldn't be only machines, then. There was something human left inside that metal frame, something living and feeling and thinking.

And one of these human-machines thought he had feelings for Nell, to the point of switching Gambit roles.

"How does that even work?" she said suddenly. "A relationship with an Exo. Can you kiss one? They don't have lips! Only, like, those jaw plates."

"Maybe they don't kiss," Hadrian said. "I've seen Exos give hugs."

"Wouldn't that hurt? I mean, they're metal. They squeeze a little too hard and splat. Like a bug."

Hadrian found that funny. He laughed so hard, he fell out of the air and bounced across the bed. Nell sat up and watched him. "It's a serious question!"

Hadrian floated back into the air, spinning his shell as if it helped him float. "I know, it was just the way you said it. I've never seen anyone die from an Exo hug, all right? I think they can be gentle. Like you." He gave her a smile with both his shell and his eye emote. "You could crush me in your hands. I know how strong you are. But you handle me very gently. I'm never afraid that you might hurt me."

Nell gazed at him a long moment, considering this. Then she sighed. "What if I go meet Grant, and he changes his mind and tries to kill me? What do I do, then?"

"Don't go alone," Hadrian said. "Take Jayesh."

Nell snorted. "Jayesh is already on Grant's side. I'll see if Liran, Nessa, and Cidrex will go. Triangulate our position, shoot Grant if he gets hostile. Hm. We'd better not do this meet up in the Tower."

"Why not out in the EDZ?" Hadrian suggested. "It's a hot patrol zone right now, with the Fallen withdrawn. Guardians are really exploring the area. We should get clearance no problem."

"Tell Grant, then," Nell said. "And invite my team. Tell them to come armed. And ... damn it, Hadrian, my good knives are notched after that last match. See what's for sale. And see what a good hand cannon costs. I need to upgrade my gear."

"All right," Hadrian replied.

Jayesh treated his family to a nice outing in the City. Kari appreciated it, but fretted about how easily he had come by so much glimmer playing Gambit. She worried that he'd play more and more whenever money grew tight.

Jayesh assured her that he had no desire to play Gambit any more. "I can support us doing my regular Vanguard assignments, lovelight. It's all right. Don't worry. It's not good for the baby."

Kari's morning sickness was beginning to creep in. Over the next few days, she spent more and more time on the sofa or in bed, making frequent dashes to the restroom. Jayesh managed meals and kept Connor out of her way. He contrived to take the toddler to the City park several times.

Charles was able to meet him there sometimes. The young hunter brought his own child, who was happy to crawl on the grass and eat sand.

"I picked up a guitar," Jayesh said. "I've been practicing a bit, but I'm so bad, my wife complains. She's down with morning sickness and noise irritates her."

"Well then," Charles said, grinning from under his mop of sandy hair. "Let's help you get good."

The playground visits turned into guitar lessons, then into impromptu jam sessions. Charles taught Jayesh simple rhythm pieces, then played melody against it. Other parents around the playground moved closer to listen.

Jayesh's synesthesia was still present, but it didn't drown him, as it once had. He saw the music in bright colors, and sometimes tasted it on the back of his tongue like savory spices. One particular song smelled sharply of new-mown hay. But he was able to push through it, concentrate on the chords and finger positions.

Charles kept teaching him new things, too. During one session, he produced a strange-looking strap and wound it around the strings at the end of the guitar's neck. "This is a capo. It changes the pitch. Listen." Charles strummed, and the guitar produced notes an octave higher than before. Jayesh saw it as magenta. They traded guitars, and Jayesh tried it out, experimenting with different chords and their new sounds.

Something about this new key stirred something within him. A sense of familiarity, a feeling of home, of welcoming that he couldn't quite remember. Was it memory? Or something deeper? He bent his head over the guitar and listened to the chords, trying to draw out the melody. One chord was right. Then the next. Then the next.

"Oh, a minor key," Charles said. "What song is that?"

Jayesh didn't answer. He was too focused on the fingering, playing the music inside his head, bringing it to life. The crazy color and taste of the music sharpened, like cold wind and fresh snow, blue and white and black.

Words went with it. Jayesh sang them very softly - words in a language he didn't remember that he knew. He sang a few bars, the syllables rolling off his tongue, before he halted and looked up, embarrassed.

"Don't stop!" Charles said.

But as soon as Jayesh stopped, the music and words vanished from his mind. He played the chords again, and it wasn't the same.

"What was that?" Charles asked. "What language?"

"I don't know," Jayesh said. "It went with the music. Maybe it's from my past life. Do you think I was a musician?"

"Maybe!" Charles said. "I'm pretty sure I was." He took back his guitar and picked out a complicated set of notes, as if playing his own thoughts. After a moment, he said, "You have a good voice. Ever tried singing harmony?"

"Not really," Jayesh said. "Never tried singing much at all until recently."

"We ought to dig into that, next," Charles said, grinning. "I think we're both tenors, so it'll be fun."

Jayesh nodded and grinned, picking up his guitar again. Whatever that song had been, it had come from a place deep inside him, perhaps the person he had once been. And it was linked with his Light in a strange way he couldn't define. He was eager to ask Phoenix's opinion once they were alone.

But alone time wasn't easy to manage. When it was time to go home, Connor was tired and cranky. Jayesh took him home and made a belated dinner of sandwiches for them both. Then Kari appeared, looking haggard, and had one, too.

Once Connor was in bed, Jayesh and Kari snuggled together on the sofa. He told her about his strange breakthrough and tried to describe how it felt.

Phoenix phased into being nearby. "I felt that!" he exclaimed. "It was definitely some kind of Sunsinger thing. You were singing in Newar, which makes sense, because I found you in the Himalayas. It's like ... it's like it will take your whole being to be a Sunsinger, including your old life."

"Is that possible?" Kari said.

"I don't know," Phoenix replied. "The Vanguard records show people being resurrected as Sunsingers. Nobody has become one since the Traveler awakened."

Jayesh listened, thinking. He stroked Kari's hair and gazed at the far wall. "I think you're right," he said at last. "Being a Dawnblade took my entire being. I loved it, and it worked. A guardian in the Reef said that it aligned with my personality. So ... when I lost it ... I lost myself. I've been trying to find out who I am again. Gambit. This job with the weapon forge. The Praxic Order. The music. I think I'm finding pieces of myself. I just don't know how to put them together. I was singing in Newar ... that's a piece I didn't even know I had."

Kari leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "I don't think you're as lost as you think, heartspark."

"I'm not?"

"No. Because I can feel you healing me."

Jayesh straightened. "I'm healing you? How? Will it hurt the baby?"

"Calm down," she told him peaceably. "It's very subtle. I don't think you could do it for anyone else. But as I'm sitting here, the nausea is calming down. I can feel a faint aura of healing radiating from you. It feels good." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder again. "It's your love, Jay."

He curled his arms around her waist and held her, nervous. When she had been pregnant with Connor, they had been extremely careful to use no Light powers in case of causing a miscarriage. And now he was healing her without meaning to. "Phoenix? Neko? Make sure she's safe."

Their two ghosts scanned them both.

"He is radiating a little Light," Phoenix said. "Barely enough to register."

"Her discomfort is definitely fading," Neko said, zipping back and forth to scan Kari from different directions. "It's very slow. Barely a trickle. I'm detecting no problems with the child, so it's probably all right."

Both ghosts scanned Jayesh.

"You think it's his Seed of Light?" Phoenix said.

"Maybe," Neko said thoughtfully, twirling his royal blue shell. "It feels more specialized than that. I want to say it's a Sunsinger thing, but he's not my Guardian."

"I think you're right," Phoenix said. He emoted a smile at Jayesh. "Your power is working."

"It may be working," Jayesh replied, "but I'm not controlling it. I don't like that. I could hurt everyone around me." He tucked a strand of hair behind Kari's ear. "What if my power went off in my sleep and I hurt you?"

She looked up at him. "It's not like that, Jay. We're attuned to each other. You're giving me Light in a way only we can do."

A little warmth spread up his neck and into his cheeks. "Oh. Is that what they're calling it now?"

"Shh." She kissed him, then relaxed against him again. "I feel well for the first time in days. Don't wreck it."

Jayesh held her until she fell asleep and he nearly did. Then they staggered off to bed and fell asleep in each other's arms. He passively healed her all night and awoke feeling nearly as tired as he had when he'd gone to bed.

Kari, on the other hand, felt perfect. She breezed around the apartment, doing chores and singing, when she wasn't talking to Connor. Jayesh saw her voice in vivid mental images of leaves and flowers, tasted it as chocolate and nectar.

"I'm not well yet," he muttered to Phoenix.

"Oh, so what?" Phoenix said. "Sing with her."

So they sang together until they were laughing too much to go on.

"I could listen to them for hours," Neko sighed, watching from behind the sofa.

Phoenix floated beside his brother. "Jayesh is all scrambled inside, like the tumblers of a lock. He hasn't found the right combination to unlock himself, yet."

"But when he does," Neko said, "you'd better watch out."

Phoenix spun his shell aggressively. "I can't wait."