They stayed at that little restaurant far longer than any of them intended—past the rush hour, past the wave of families, past the noise.
Ken was halfway through his fourth plate, chewing like he hadn't eaten in weeks.
Joy was sipping water as if it were wine.
Ash was… mentally preparing himself to deal with humanity again.
Ken leaned back, patting his stomach dramatically. "I swear on my life… if I eat one more thing… I'll ascend."
Joy raised an eyebrow. "Ascend to where?"
Ken looked at him seriously. "I don't know. Heaven? A coma? Whichever takes me first."
Ash snorted. "Pretty sure both would reject you."
Ken pointed at him with a fork. "When I ascend I'm haunting you first. I'm gonna knock on your door at 3 A.M. and moan like a dying goat."
Joy nodded thoughtfully. "That's actually a good vocal warm-up."
Ken blinked. "Huh?"
Joy took a deep, dramatic breath and let out a noise so cursed, so strange, so goat-soul-leaving-body-like that Ash nearly spitted on his drink.
Ash wiped his mouth. "What the hell was THAT?"
Joy shrugged. "Emotion. Pain. The usual."
Ken looked at him with newfound respect. "Man… you're weirder than me."
Joy bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."
Ash smirked. "I don't think that was a compliment."
Joy replied calmly, "Everything's a compliment if you're delusional enough."
Ken burst out laughing so hard the waiter paused mid-step, stared at them like they were insane, and walked away slowly.
Ash stretched, leaning back against the booth.
"So Joy, what's your plan now? You got anywhere to stay?"
Joy tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. "Nope. Not a clue. I'll just… wander for now. Follow the music. Or find a job. Or crash at a station bench until inspiration hits me."
Ken frowned. "Bro, that's not a plan. That's homelessness."
Joy smiled proudly. "Exactly."
Ash massaged his temples. "This guy's gonna die."
Joy gestured vaguely. "We all die. I'm just choosing the scenic route."
Ken nodded like this was deep. "Respect."
Ash groaned. "Stop encouraging him."
But the truth was… there was something oddly warm in Joy's presence. Not comforting, Joy wasn't that type—but genuine. Unfiltered in a way people rarely were anymore.
They talked about the stupidest things.
Ken told him about the time he accidentally used his powers and the whole restroom got covered in blood. Joy told them about a girl he fell in love with for exactly six minutes because she played guitar like it was bleeding. Ash told them about the most boring mission he'd ever had—babysitting a rich alien politician's spoiled son who tried to eat his own anti-gravity boots.
Eventually the clock on the wall blinked 11:47 PM.
Ken stretched so hard his joints cracked like fireworks. "Alright boys… I think this is where we part ways before I collapse on this table."
Joy nodded, finishing his water. "Yeah… I should go. I saw a bench near the station that looked poetic enough to sleep on."
Ash nearly choked again. "NO. Don't say things like that."
Joy smiled innocently. "What? It had tragic energy. Perfect for a verse."
Ken stood up. "Bro—poetry won't keep you warm."
Joy shrugged. "Neither did home."
That shut both Ash and Ken up for a second.
Just a second.
Then Ken slapped Joy's shoulder. "Alright, man. Stay safe. Seriously. If someone tries to rob you, sing at them until they run."
Joy nodded. "I've done that before."
Ash blinked. "…That… actually scares me."
They stepped outside together, the night air cool, streetlights buzzing above them. The sidewalk was quieter than usual—just soft echoes of footsteps, lazy traffic, and distant city murmurs.
Joy put his hands in his pockets. "This was… nice."
Ken grinned. "Yeah bro. Hit us up if you ever need a place to hang."
Joy nodded. "I will."
They stood there awkwardly for a moment.
Joy stepped back. "See you around."
Ken waved. "Yeah man."
Ash nodded. "Take care, poet boy."
Joy walked into the night. Ash and Ken watched him vanish around a corner.
Ken took a deep breath. "Random dude but… kinda cool."
Ash shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. Weird as hell but… cool."
The night had settled into that quiet hour where everything looked a little washed-out. The sky hung low, heavy with a pale violet haze that spread across the horizon, turning the distant towers into silhouettes bleeding into the light. It wasn't beautiful, not in the normal sense. But it felt oddly comforting.
Ken walked with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool wind. Ash walked with less posture and more gravity, like he was being pulled downward by something unseen. Neither of them spoke for a while, letting the silence stretch and breathe. The day had been long. Too long.
They made their way down the sloping path that curved around the restaurant, passing the old vending machine that hadn't worked in three months, the cracked water pipes that hissed occasionally, and a row of abandoned cargo crates stacked against the wall—leftovers.
A few employees walked past them, pale faces tired, robotic steps heading to the IGV terminal ahead. Some nodded. Some didn't see them at all.
It wasn't until they reached the wider part of the walkway—the one overlooking the dark stretch of the lower city—that Ken finally broke the silence.
"So…" he started, tilting his head toward Ash, "what are you gonna do now?"
Ash didn't answer at first. His eyes stayed fixed on the distant horizon. His breathing was slow, almost lazy, and when he finally spoke, it sounded like the sentence had taken effort to crawl out of him.
"I'm going home," he said quietly. "And I'm sleeping for twenty-four hours straight."
He paused. "Maybe longer. I feel dead today."
Ken gave a small snort, amused but also concerned. "Only today?"
Ash shrugged, too tired to form a comeback. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, blinking at the blurry glow of the city lights. The path ahead forked—one leading toward the IGV docks where most people waited for transport, and one leading toward the exit ramps and the open streets.
They kept walking, neither speaking, letting the cold wind slide between them like a thin ghost.
"You know," Ken said after a moment, "you could just… take the IGV with me."
Ash muttered something that sounded like "too tired," though it didn't explain anything. He really did look exhausted. Not physically—Ash rarely looked physically tired. But mentally? He looked like someone who had been carrying things he didn't have pockets for.
Far below, hover-cars drifted lazily down the streets. A few neon signs flickered on as the night deepened, casting moving shapes across the walls. The upper platforms where they walked felt isolated from all of that—like a quiet bridge between two parts of a too-loud world.
They made it another ten steps before Ash suddenly exhaled, almost annoyed at himself, and slowed down.
Ash lifted his hand slightly, and a faint buzz flickered around his fingers—so subtle at first Ken didn't notice. The air shifted, carrying a static tingle that brushed against Ken's arm like tiny sparks asking permission.
Ken's eyes widened. "Ash…?"
"I go eep," Ash said simply.
"Okay, but—"
Before Ken could finish, the static around Ash's arm intensified. Bright-blue light crackled across his skin, thin electric threads snapping in and out like restless veins of lightning. The surrounding air shimmered, bending slightly as the charge built.
Ken took a half-step back. "Bro— don't— we're in public—"
Too late.
With a sharp crack that split the air, Ash launched forward in a burst of blinding light. The lights above flickered violently, complaining at the sudden energy surge.
Ken stood frozen for a full two seconds, staring at the fading trail of static drifting like fireflies around his shoes. His face slowly scrunched into disbelief, frustration, and genuine offense at the physics violation he just witnessed.
"What—" he started, then stopped, because his brain refused to cooperate. Finally, he threw his hands in the air.
"That doesn't even make sense!" he shouted into the empty path Ash had disappeared down. "You can't just— bro! You literally can't even do that at this altitude! There are rules! Like real rules! Science rules!"
A passing employee glanced at him, startled by the sudden yelling, then walked faster.
Ken rubbed his face with both hands, groaning into his palms. "He said he was tired and then used a billion volts to leave faster, that's not even, that's like the opposite of efficient."
He then shoved his hands back into his pockets and began walking toward the IGV docks, still shaking his head, still muttering to himself about public energy discharge laws and how Ash definitely owed him dinner for this.