The night after Sophia had her catharsis was the first that I was not awoken by her having a nightmare, since we had gone into the tunnel to save people. In the morning, she awoke normally and even snuggled in for a bit before we had to get up.

“Thank you.” She said, first thing in the morning, in a slightly strange voice. “What’s for breakfast?” she asked right afterwards, this time trying to project cheerfulness. I felt as if a huge boulder had lifted from my heart. Not so much what she was saying, but the simple fact that she was speaking of her own volition. I felt my cheeks get wet and started sobbing in relief, before crushing Sophia in an embrace. I think I was babbling, telling her how happy I was that she was back, while she started crying as well, hugging me back and apologizing for worrying me.

Both of us cried for a while, holding onto the other and seeking comfort in the others arms. Finally, Sophia wrinkled her nose and sniffed a little, trying to smell herself. “Oh, yuck. I need a shower.”

I had tried to keep her clean, but there was only so much one could do with a sponge, so she was right. I wanted to start towards the kitchen, to make breakfast, when a hand on my wrist stopped me.

“Wash my back?” she asked, with a shy smile on her face. I must have blushed seven shades of red, it would be the first time seeing her naked without a need to do so. Before, I had seen her naked when it was necessary, not because either of us wanted the intimacy. It felt quite different.

The ensuing shower was… interesting. And after we both were clean, we started breakfast, together. It was great, doing something so simple together, after the week of Zombie-Sophia and her passivity. I observed her closely and realised that she was trying to be cheerful, but there was still a massive amount of hurt and pain, grief and guilt buried underneath the surface. But there was no point in addressing it for now, I would be ready to help her if she needed it, listen if she wanted to speak and hold her when she needed to cry.

Hopefully, time would heal those wounds.

After breakfast, Sophia asked if I had a current project. She knew that I was building my own gear, had seen me do so from time to time and even had a few gear-pieces I had made for her. But now was the first time she asked about my projects, so I wanted to show her my current favourite toy.

“Of course I have a project.” I said with a laugh. “Come, I will show it to you.”

The flight-frame was still in the workshop I had left it a week ago, untouched. The workshop was close to the second exit, so I was able to quickly carry the thing outside.

“Is that a rocket?!” Sophia asked when she saw the frame.

“No. Or rather, depending on your definition of rocket.” I said, which caused her to look at me in confusion.

“A rocket is normally powered by either solid or liquid propellant and carries the necessary oxydant internally to be independent of external air. This flight-frame does not use chemical propellant and needs external air to function. It is more akin to a military jet-propelled airplane.” I explained.

“So, it’s not a rocket, it just looks like one? And it can fly fast?” She asked with a grin?

“Yes. I am not certain about the maximum-speed, I doubt I would ever push it to that point, but it could be fast. My operating envelope limits it to subsonic speeds, however.”

Her grin got bigger. “So, what will you use it for?”

“Obviously, movement. The flight-frame can carry me everywhere on the continent, within a few hours.” As I said that, I realised how selfish it sounded. “Once I confirm that it works as it is supposed to, I will add a second… seat? Well, add a compartment for a second person. Currently, it only works for someone wearing my armour.”

I mentally made the adjustment and realised it would be relatively easy. A lot of space between the two ramjet-thrusters was taken up by energy-crystals, if I moved them to the front and thickened the whole section, I could fit a semi-comfortable compartment for a person and some gear between the thrusters, without greatly changing the aerodynamic characteristics or the weight.

“So, what is it like, flying? In your own jet-thingy?” Sophia asked with a teasing smile.

“How would I know?” I countered with a grin. “It is so much a prototype that I have yet to fly it myself. I even have to come up with a better name than jet-thingy. I am using flight-frame, but I am not sure I will keep the name. Galatea has taken it up, once, to make sure nothing explodes. Now, I will have to make sure that nothing suffered from the flight.”

“Oh. Okay.” She grabbed a chair from my desk, leaving me with the small stool I used at the workbench. It made me realise that a lot of things in my bunker, especially in the work-areas were designed and arranged for a single occupant. With Sophia staying full time, we would have to change that and most likely prepare some space that was only for her, when she needed privacy. It was something that we would have to think about later.

I started evaluating the flight-frame and quickly got lost in my work, sinking into the trance of numbers, ideas and plans. It felt good to work again, the last week had been stressful and working on one of my projects relaxed me. Galatea knew to keep an eye on Sophia, just in case she needed me, but I had to give her enough space to work through her problems, she could not do so while I hovered over her.

The evaluation went well, there was nothing that looked as if it had suffered from the forces it had been exposed to, giving me confidence in the frame. Not enough to take it up myself, but more than I had before. It was already late in the afternoon when I was finished and, according to Galatea, Sophia had left the room roughly thirty minutes after I had started working and entertained herself in the main-room, first by going over the information I had gathered on the Omegas, then by watching day-time television. Galatea had offered her all manners of interesting literature, from scientific research to classic plays but she had declined. Sometimes, there was no accounting for taste.

In the main-room, Sophia was looking confused at the coffee-maker that had suddenly turned on and started laughing when I walked into the room and headed directly towards it, grabbing the mug the moment I reached it and it was full. Galatea knew my habits, so it was no surprise to me.

“That Detective Kendall. Why have you given her so much information?” Sophia asked, as I took the first satisfying sip of coffee.

“Simple, she is a mask. The Omegas have a rather competent leadership, at least I think so. Either they have competent leadership or more luck than anyone has a right to. Or maybe both.” I explained. “If they know that two vigilante-powered are after them, they will make plans to deal with us, making things more complicated than they need to be. Detective Kendall is our hound, hunting the Omegas for us, so we can stay in the shadows, only taking action if needed. Like that, the moves made by the Omegas will target the police and Detective Kendall, not us.”

“You are using her?!” Sophia asked, slightly surprised.

“Well, in a way. In another way, she is using me.” I pointed out. “See, at the end of the day, she is doing her job and earning major points in the process. By wiping out the Omegas, she rises in rank and status in the Police force and she makes the city safer or whatever the police mission is. It is a mutually beneficial partnership, both sides gain a lot and the only losers in the equation are the Omegas. Forgive me, if I don’t rate their continued existence highly.”

“But isn’t she taking the risks?”

“Not really. I do keep an eye on her and her operations. If needed I would take action, either indirect by tipping off the League or direct by heading out myself. Most likely with you at my side.”

She did not look quite convinced and happy. Maybe she wanted to take her revenge more up close and personal but that would complicate things a lot.

“You know, Galatea will take the frame up again once it is dark outside. Do you want to watch?” I asked, trying to change the topic.

“Sure, sounds cool.”

“Well, I am afraid is mainly sounds interesting. You will be unable to see much outside, a few seconds of take-off and landing, everything else will be away from us. You can watch telemetry and a camera feed on your visor, if you want.”

She agreed with a nod and I joined her on the couch, ostensibly watching television with her. In reality, it had taken only a few moments before I felt my brain starting to rot away so I had covertly asked Galatea to display something more interesting on my glasses. She had chosen one of the text-books for the Guild-Academy, so I started studying. It was a quite interesting take on history, using a slightly different perspective and methodology.