“The emotion you call fun is a primitive antecedent to the feeling of enjoyment my kind experience. Your childling brain would be racked with near infinite levels of bliss, causing you to both seize and orgasm simultaneously without pause until your eyeballs melt out of your fragile, brittle skull.”

“Whoa, Nia,” interrupted Hwalin. “Sounds absolutely brutal. Where, uh… exactly can one go to experience that?”

“Hwal, what the fuck? Please…” Alma placed a palm to her head in resignation. She felt the cloth of the tattered bandana she had previously tied around her head. She had almost forgotten its existence and the drive that had forced her to push against certain death when she was fighting on that alien planet. Her resolve to improve was growing. She was getting excited once more. She turned to Qu’l-Nia and let out a victory cry. A drawn-out screech that caused the other two to stare in disbelief. “Right! Let's get started! Q, how do I get started?!”

“Alma, I am glad to see you are finally excited for the right purpose. If we are to start training you properly, we will have to start simple. Now that we are no longer in mortal danger, you will not have the benefit of being pushed by that same galvanic impulse to survive that you had before.”

“How hard can it be? I got to that place without even trying the first time.”

“Yes. Your state of mind definitely plays a role in stimulating your powers, but I fear it is still very directionless. You will thus need to train your focus firstly, if we are to get the most out of your teleportation.”

“I just gotta think really hard about where I want to go, right? Seems obvious enough.”

“Damn, Alm. Didn’t take you for such a logical thinker.”

“Yeah, well… I watch a lot of action cartoons…” Alma averted her gaze shyly. “They come up with a lot of cool ideas, you know? It’s part of why I’ve always wanted to be such a hero.”

“I’ve always fancied myself more of an anti-hero.” Hwalín grinned to herself. “But saving the day and having people recognize ya for it. It’s what makes us such a great team.”

“An admirable trait from the both of you. Use it. We are trying to save an entire planet, after all.”

“I hear you,” said Alma. “But there’s something that’s been bugging me for a while now. Who… exactly are we saving the world from? You said Derleth would have some answers for us, but what if he doesn’t? We’ll be stuck back at square one, running around like a drag-hen with his head cut off.”

“Dark forces are everywhere in the multiverse, as you have yourself witnessed. Whoever they are, they are good at keeping a low-profile. I assure you, Derleth will have answers for us. Be they meager or not, it will still be something to start with. He is also a very powerful being, and having his insight and strength on our side will be a massive benefit to our cause. You are quite stubborn—from what I have seen. I know a lack of answers would not truly stop you from answering this undertaking. You are the hero, after all.”

Alma chuckled bashfully, unable to keep herself from smiling. “T-Totally. Look, we’re almost home. How about we swing by my place, take a nice hot shower, then I’ll treat you bo—treat Hwalín to some good eats at Nemeth’s. Then afterwards we can talk about training.”

“Sounds like paradise, Miss Hero,” said Hwalín, expressing her wholehearted gratitude.

“Stop! I didn’t do even do anything~!” whine the ex-soldier playfully, blushing and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

As the trio finally came up on the capital city’s entrance gates, Alma noticed the usual young guardsman sitting at his post, looking particularly glum. As the ex-soldier approached his booth, the young man perked up for a slight moment before regaining his sodden expression.

“Alma…” There was a particular gentleness in his voice. “You’re finally back.”

“Oh! Hey, uh… Zahn! Yeah. Crazy trip. Um…” Alma pointed to the other two women behind her, who both waved enthusiastically. “These two are with me. Hehe. You remember them? We all left through here the other day. They’ve got their travel documents and everything.” She motioned to them, before turning back to the guard. “You okay there, buddy? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m just so sorry, Alma." Zahn frowned, averting his gaze. “I wish things didn’t turn out the way they have. I’m… It’s just nice to see you keeping your spirits up.”

“Hey now! Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, see? I’ve got these two knuckleheads looking out for me,” she stated, smiling as she continued pushing the memory of her discharge to the back of her head. “We’re just gonna pop right in now. You take care, yeah?”

The young guard waved silently as they three women entered the city. Alma breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oi, what’s eatin’ him?” Hwalín pointed her thumb over her shoulder back to the gates.

“Beats me. Dude’s always been kinda weird. Probably thinks I’m still depressed over the whole army thing. Which I am, and it’s sweet that he worries, but that doesn’t mean I want to be reminded!” Alma shrugged. “Anyway. Unlike my sister’s place, my house is pretty close. It’s also a lot bigger. I can’t wait for you guys to see it.”

“Alma,” said Qu’l-Nia. “I have been meaning to discuss something with you. Ever since taking this form, I have not been given the luxury of showering. Rather, I have not needed to. Nor do I believe that I should.”

“That what that smell is?”

“Impossible. I do not give off any sort of fragrance.”

“You know things can stick to you, right? You think shit stuck to your shoe wouldn’t stink? Actually, speaking of shit, do you even—”

“Alma!” A woman’s voice further ahead called out.

Alma looked around, wondering who had spotted her now. She then noticed two figures standing a short distance from her house. A man and a woman. It was her parents.

“Mom? Dad?” She ran over to them, her heavy bags bouncing and pushing her forward. She looked at them, taking note of the sad expressions on their faces. “W-What are you both doing here? What’s wrong? You heard about my discharge, right? Listen, I’m an idiot for letting it happen, I know how stupid—”

“Alma.” Her father interrupted her. His deep voice was calming and sympathetic. He embraced her. “My little soldier.”

Alma searched her mother’s face for answers, but found only tears in her emerald eyes. Alma tore herself from her father’s embrace, looking worriedly at him.

“Your sister...” he mumbled. “Zulema is dead.”