Raptor and I are back home in the States. Seems surreal to think that we missed Thanksgiving because we were fighting angels near the North Pole. Late November in New York seems pretty balmy by comparison. Frostburn stayed in Norway, taking it easy for a while. I’m still feeling wobbly after Razor opened me up, but I’m alive.

Graham is still recovering too, but at least he seems like his old self. Elliott seems to be sticking around, which is fine by me. We could use his help trying to get this thing off the ground.

I had a chance to talk to Gerald. He’s an amazingly smart guy—he had managed to put most of it together even before I told him, and even though some of the new stuff strains the boundaries of what we are used to thinking of as “reality”, he seemed to take it at face value. He said he’s on board, and he’ll be setting up a non-profit foundation as a point of contact for metahumans and the people who need their help. It’ll focus more on large entities (governments) for now, just because we can’t afford to be inundated with calls to get kittens out of trees. We’re calling it the Nova Foundation. He’ll be the head guy and public face. Graham will be the tech guy, maybe with some help from Elliott. Me and Raptor, we’ll do what we do. Of course, I’ll be contributing financially too. I’m hoping that word will get out and like-minded folks will start trickling in. I doubt we’ve seen the last of Yarger.

There’s still a very important piece of business to take care of. I need to go talk to Cole’s family. I’m going to see if I can get Gerald to come with me—he never had the chance to meet Cole, but he’s better with words, and as the director of the Nova Foundation maybe he’ll be able to do right by them.