Sobs had shaken Jonathan's shoulders. Tears had streamed down his face and fell to the snow. He gripped the railing of the bridge as he sobbed, suddenly falling to his knees as they gave out under him. He had just dropped the Vanoss-III from the top of the bridge, and grief had overcome him and didn't let go of him no matter how loudly he wailed and how many tears fell from his eyes. This pain was the most real thing he had ever felt.

Jonathan awoke slowly from a deep and dreamless sleep. He felt better waking up today, he hadn't been haunted in his dreams by his mistakes. Smitty had shared his tent, curled up in the side, the tablet still on beside him. It reminded Jonathan so much of his late night conversations with Evan and how he would fall asleep to the red glow of the Vanoss-III.

"Do you have a girl at home, Jon?" Marcel had asked as Jonathan had climbed into his sleeping bag.

"He likes personal questions." Smitty smiled. "He can't see you so you gotta talk to him."

"It's okay. No, I don't." Jonathan had smiled, looking down at the purple glow.

"I do. I wonder if she's okay. Her name is Simone...She's got such pretty red hair...She's magical. She's always been magical, able to talk to ghosts and stuff. She's so wonderful." Marcel had said, a smile in his voice. "Were you close with your Vanoss-III?"

"I guess." Jonathan had shrugged. "I mean, I've left everything behind for him..." Jonathan had ended up telling Smitty and Marcel everything that had happened, his eyes watering as he talked about Luke and finding Evan's body. They had ended up falling asleep to the purple glow before Jonathan could even get to the end.

Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders now, he stepped out of the tent into the cold morning. Tyler was already awake, tending to the fire.

"What are you doing up so early?" Jonathan asked as he sat down beside Tyler.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Bad dream?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jonathan asked, glancing at Tyler to see the sad expression on his face before he tried to hide it from him.

"It was just a bad dream about Evan...It's repeating. Every time I fall asleep, I open my eyes and see that I'm falling. I land on the snow and there is blood everywhere...And I look up and I see Evan running towards something and then there's a gunshot, then another one and he falls to the snow...dead. What does that mean, Jonathan? There is nothing I can do to stop it. I can only watch it and as soon as he hits the ground, I wake up." Tyler wiped his eyes with his sleeve, not meeting Jonathan's gaze.

"He's a talking corpse in mine." Jonathan whispered. "He's warning me about things. He told me that he left the letters behind and that we shouldn't have gone into the Wasteland. Sometimes I see him as a soldier and other times he's wearing his red jacket but his hands are covered in gauze and there is something wrong with his eyes. I think he's haunting me, Tyler."

"Haunting you." Tyler repeated before he suddenly laughed at Jonathan.

"Yeah."

"He never met you." Tyler's voice was suddenly full of anger. Jonathan thought that it might have been jealousy too. "Evan never knew you...You only got to know a copy of him, a computer copy of him!" Tyler spat. Jonathan looked away, hurt. First Lui, now him. He should have known this would happen, sitting with him on those long drives during the day. "He's not haunting you. You never read his poems, never fought the police machines with him in riots. You never had to listen to him after he got out of prison cry for hours and there was nothing you could do no matter how much you wanted to. Shut up, Jonathan. Just shut up. Don't you dare say that again." Tyler got up, walking away from Jonathan as sobs shook his shoulders. The owl patch glinted in the morning light.

"Will you come with us?" They stood around Smitty, their truck rumbling and waiting for them.

"No...I'm not going anywhere. I just want to get away from the machines...Except Marcel that is." Smitty smiled down at the tablet. "I'm not going back to New Town."

"It's not safe out here alone." Brock said. "At least let us give you a lift somewhere."

"No. You've given me enough. Thank you. It was great to meet you. Good luck out there. You'll need it. And hey, maybe we'll meet again someday. Maybe not in this life...but the next." Smitty said with a smile before turning away from the group, walking into the woods. The group watched him go, waving to him before turning to their truck. Jonathan climbed into the back, curling up in the corner away from the others. After a few moments, the truck started down the road. Jonathan was able to still Smitty through the trees and gave him a small wave, wishing he could come with him. Except for the little support that Brock gave him, Jonathan felt completely alone.

They drove till the sun went down, not a single word was said the whole way. Jonathan had taken the last owl patch out of his bag, his gloved hand curled around it. Every so often, he would trace the feathers and the stains, wondering what these large eyes had seen in the past.

As the truck pulled over, Jonathan jumped out and gratefully walked away from the truck, glad to be alone. He held the owl patch tightly as he walked through the trees, the icy snow crunching under his boots. Snowflakes fell gently around him, the trees swaying in the cold wind. In the distance from the road, they had been able to see the mountains and they knew that they were getting closer to facing whatever or whoever was behind all of this. Jonathan sighed as he stopped, leaning against a tree to look up at the falling snow. He could swear that he heard music faintly, the notes floating on the wind but he wasn't sure where it was coming from.

"Jon? Are you okay?" He turned to see Brock making his way through the trees towards him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fucking fine." Jonathan turned away from him. "I don't need your sympathy, Brock. I'm sure you are thinking just like the others. You're just being nice because you're stuck with me."

"Where is this coming from?" Brock looked hurt. He reached for Jonathan's hand but he pulled away from him quickly. "Jon. Did Lui say something?"

"Tyler said it this time. Look...When this is over, you never have to see me again, okay? I'll leave you all alone for good. I've lost my only friend and I lost the Vanoss-III...I latched on to you guys thinking you would want me around but no; I was wrong. It's fine. I get it. Really, I do."

"You don't get anything." Brock snarled and turned away from Jonathan, storming back through the snow towards their camp. Jonathan watched him go, regret suddenly overwhelming him. He found himself running through the snow, away from the others. The cold wind whipped around him, biting at his cheeks and nose. The sound of water made him slow till he came across a river, the cold water rushing around snow capped rocks. Jonathan fell to his knees, letting out a sob as he did. The owl patch fell from his hand to the snow, the faded feathers glinting in the dim light. He couldn't stop himself from sobbing, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face. His cheeks stung and his chest burned as he leant down, pressing his forehead against the snow, his arms wrapped around himself as that would stop himself from falling apart.

"It's okay...Don't lose this." Jonathan opened his eyes, seeing a gloved hand holding the owl patch out to him. The hand wasn't attached to a body. Slowly, Jonathan reached for the owl patch, his fingers curling around it slowly as he watched blood drip from the hand, the glove soaked with it. Jonathan screamed and scrambled away from the bloody disembodied hand, falling back onto the snow, dangerously close to the edge of the freezing river.

"What do you want?" Jonathan called out to the forest. "Who are you?"

"You know who I am." A bloody footprint appeared in the snow.

"Evan wasn't a soldier...He was a kid that got murdered by New Town. That's all. Not a soldier. Not a nightmarish creature. Not a ghost." Jonathan stammered.

"There are so many worlds...So many lives...This is only one. I've been brought back to help you, Jonathan. Listen to me. At first, I was only in your dreams…" A figure moved in the trees. "You said you needed me real, so I'm here now."

"I didn't want this. I didn't want you haunting me! And no one believes me! They all hate me, Evan! You never knew me…" Jonathan looked away, new tears in his eyes. "Ghosts aren't real...I'm losing my mind."

"I knew you."

"No, you didn't."

"Tyler never had an owl patch before…" Evan whispered from where he stood among the trees, snow falling on his bloody uniform.

The truck rumbled down the road towards the mountains. Jonathan was back in his corner, his arms around the Vanoss-IV. No one had said a word to him and he didn't want to say anything to them for fear of getting them more angry with him. Jonathan wasn't listening to the wind but the music that seemed to get louder the closer they got to the rolling hills.

"Do you hear that?" Craig asked as he looked around. Jonathan didn't say anything, only watched him as he seemed to move stiffly, mechanically.

"Is it music?" Brock wondered, looking at the forest for the source of the sound. Jonathan looked away, watching the road behind them.

"I think so…" The truck swayed as it drove over train tracks. Craig looked at the tracks as they got farther away, a strange expression on his face.

"Do you feel real?" Jonathan suddenly asked. Craig stared at him, his brow furrowing.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing…Sorry." Jonathan looked away, suddenly regretting having said anything. Without any warning, there was a sudden pop and the truck skidded on the ice as it's front tyres exploded. The truck spun out of control, the force throwing the boys in the back to the truck floor. Jonathan cried out as he fell, unable to stop himself from sliding towards the edge, colliding with the metal edge into darkness.

Snow fell slowly around the silent truck. Jonathan opened his eyes slowly, seeing that the world had darkened around them. He looked around with wide eyes, shaking Brock's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up.

"B-Brock…" Jonathan staggered to his feet, dizziness hanging over him like a cloud.

"W-What happened?" Brock stammered as his eyes fluttered open. "J-Jon? Where are you going?"

"To see if Tyler and Lui are okay." Jonathan swung himself down from the back and made his way towards the front of the truck, but something caught his eye. Up ahead, the trees were covered in bright lights. Jonathan found himself walking past the truck and towards the lights. The first tree was wrapped up in gold lights, the warm light twinkling like the stars above him. Jonathan placed his hand on one of the bulbs, feeling the warmth of it through his glove. He continued ahead, looking up at the coloured lights around him with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Pinks, reds, blues, greens and every colour in between spiralled up the trees towards the stars, the sparkling snow reflecting the glittering lights.

"It's so beautiful…" Jonathan murmured as he reached for one of the red coloured trees.

"All I see is lights…" Evan had said. "It's beautiful…" Snow fell gently around him as he smiled up at the heavenly glow, wishing Evan was with him now. The sound of footsteps on the snow startled him but when he turned, no one was there. Jonathan smiled, his ghost must be here.

A sudden stinging pain shot through Jonathan's arm, making him cry out. He turned his head, his wife eyes landing on the brightly coloured dart buried deep into his arm. He staggered, falling against the red tree, the light surrounding him.

"B-Brock! Brock! H-Help me!" Jonathan cried as he fell to the snow, unable to stand any longer. "B-Brock! Tyler! A-Anyone…" He collapsed into the snow, the world spinning around him as he looked up at the lights, watching it all fade into darkness.

"Who are they?"

"I don't know. They aren't carrying any identification…"

"They have weapons and a military truck. They are someone. Are they with whoever is behind the machines?"

"No. The only machine they had was this…It talks."

"Talks? That's it?"

Jonathan's head throbbed and he felt nauseous. He was sitting on a chair but when he tried to move, his tied hands convinced him to stay still. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the others beside him. Tyler stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Jonathan watched him realise what had happened and begin to struggle.

"What the fuck is this? Who are you?" Tyler yelled. Jonathan followed his gaze to the two people standing at the other end of the room. One of them held the Vanoss-IV.

"Could ask you the same." It was a woman. She handed the Vanoss-IV back to the man and stepped towards them. She wore all black, a hood over her head but Jonathan noticed that her leggings and boots sparkled.

"We aren't looking for any trouble with you. We're just passing by."

"Not anymore. Our trap popped your tyres. Don't you know that no one is supposed to come here?" She demanded.

"To the Wasteland?"

"No. Here." She emphasised. Tyler still looked confused.

"We're not from here. We are from a place called Old Town…well they are. I'm from New Town." Jonathan explained. "We've never left it till now. We're looking for our friend. He isn't here, we know that. We're sorry if we upset you by getting close to whatever here is."

"What do you think, Bryce?" The woman turned back to the man holding the Vanoss-IV. He shrugged.

"I believe them. They need to repair their truck before they can leave anyways so let's give them a place to stay then send them on their way. Besides, they might not want to leave anyways." Bryce said as he studied the tablet. "What is this?"

"Fine then...You can stay while you fix your truck." The woman said as she pushed her hood back. Blonde hair fell down her shoulders, her eyes and cheeks covered with bright sparkles. "I'm Kelly." She pulled a knife from her belt, cutting the rope that held back their hands. "Welcome to La La Land."

Jonathan was confused till Bryce pushed open the heavy metal door onto a world of lights and music. Once freed, he and the others moved cautiously towards the door, the loud music not allowing them to speak. People danced and drank, seemingly oblivious to the cold. Around the large opening, tents and makeshift buildings were filled with more people, smoke drifting on the wind around them. Jonathan felt a shove on his back, pushing him outside. He stumbled into the snow, wondering where all of these people came from. "Want a drink?" Kelly was barely heard over the noise as she walked past, leading them towards one of the tents. Jonathan had no choice but to follow her and the others. She pushed the flap open and grabbed a bottle off the bar inside. A man wearing a panda hat was passed out at the only table. She handed the bottle to Tyler who pulled the cork and took a swig before handing it to the others.

"Oh...Fuck what is that?" Tyler coughed. Kelly only smiled. Jonathan didn't want to take the bottle, glancing nervously at the passed out man than to the others who looked like they were already tipsy, their eyes wide as they looked around them.

"Come on; go join the fun." She smiled before leaving the tent, the others almost compelled to join her. Jonathan took a deep breath and put the bottle to his lips. The alcohol stung as it went down his throat, making him cough and splutter. He set the bottle down on the table, wiping his mouth his sleeve. An odd warmth came over him and the music didn't seem so loud, it sounded perfect. He took another swig and hurried after the others. As he got closer to the dancing crowd, a trance seemed to come over him, pulling him closer.

"I love this place!" Tyler suddenly grabbed Jonathan and pulled him into the crowd. Without even wanting to or thinking about it, they found themselves dancing, jumping to the beat and hanging onto each other as the crowd pushed them. There was no cold, there was no pain. Confetti and sparkles rained down over them, covering their dark jackets in stardust. The owl patch on Jonathan's shoulder looked golden.

Something red caught Jonathan's eye through the crowd, making him turn away from the others. The crowd seemed to part for just a moment and Jonathan's eyes widened. Evan watched him with an odd expression on his face. His chest was covered in blood, and at his feet was a rotten apple. The lights flashed and the ghost broke apart like glass.

"Jon!" He was suddenly spun around by Craig, pulled back into the present. He smiled, the vision already slipping from memory. They were right. There was nothing out there and there was everything here. He knew already that he didn't want to leave this place.