Theresa approached the gravestone standing alone in the center. She placed two boxes of cookies gently at its camp. The man sitting nearby glanced down at the treats. It was his grandpa's favorite. Theresa remained silent, sliding into the space beside Lucas. She simply stayed close, letting the crisp early spring breeze brush against them. February had already arrived. The coast was warming faster than expected. The ocean stretched endlessly to meet the horizon, and the setting sun painted the water in molten gold. That same golden light touched the rows of graves in the heroes' cemetery. To say she didn't feel sorrow would be dishonest. From the corner of her eye, Theresa noticed Dave's headstone along with the others. Memories of those they had lost flickered through her mind, vivid and alive as if they were still standing before her. Even though she had faced death countless times, a sharp pang of sorrow still struck her. She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. "Hand me one," Lucas said. Just as the flame sparked, Lucas extended his hand toward her. Theresa met his gaze, and found eyes nearly drained of light. Lucas looked hollowed out, crushed beneath an invisible burden. "You smoke?" she asked softly. "My grandpa always did," he whispered hoarsely. Theresa recalled—Xavier had started eating cookies as a substitute when he gave up smoking. She handed the entire pack to Lucas. He accepted it and placed a few cigarettes into the ashtray in front of his grandpa's grave."My grandpa loved my grandma. Funny thing—he could never quit smoking while she was alive. But after she passed, he stopped entirely." "That's true love," Theresa said quietly. Lucas lifted his gaze. "He probably believed quitting would make him worthy of her in some way." Silence followed. "Don't you want your grandpa to see the best version of you?" she asked. Lucas' fists clenched tightly. "Look around, Lucas. They didn't truly leave us. They're still here, right beside us. They'll watch as we fight off the zombies and rebuild the world they dreamed of. We owe it to them to finish what they started—to honor your grandpa's words." The moment she finished speaking, Lucas collapsed into her arms like a child too heavy to hold himself upright. His voice barely rose above a whisper as his shoulders shook violently. Eventually, he loosened his grip and sobbed like a little boy. "Theresa, I have no family left." "Not a single one," he added. Hearing him say that tightened even her iron-clad heart. Lucas' entire family had given their lives for this land. Theresa hesitated. "Perhaps, in another timeline without zombies, they're all still alive, living well." She patted his back gently. "In that world, everyone is safe. Life is steady, the state is peaceful. Nothing bad happened to you or them. They went there to live happily." He cried like a child for a while, until the storm inside him began to subside. "Theresa..." "Believe me. I've seen that world. They must have found that place."Lucas' eyes glistened with tears. Then, he let out a short, embarrassed laugh, wiping his face. "Sorry, I wasn't holding back just now." "It's fine," she said. "Don't bottle it up. Cry if you need to, howl if it helps. Let it out." Lucas was quiet. "You're way too bottled up," she nudged him gently. "It'll eat at you if you keep it in. Learn from me—never let anger choke you. When something frustrates you, release it. Feeling right is what matters." A small smile appeared on Lucas' lips, and the faint spark in his eyes returned. "Yeah, you're right." "Are we leaving? Do you want to keep staying here in the cold?" "Let's go," Lucas replied immediately. He rose and walked beside her. "When the mausoleum is complete, I'll gather everyone to pay their respects." "Okay." "If you come by again, let me know. If I'm free, I'll accompany you to visit Old Mr. Keaton." "Okay." "Now go back and get to work. Your people are counting on you." "Okay," he replied again. Whatever Theresa said, he responded with the same. At the camp of the hill, Lucas spotted an electric scooter. "You drive. Take me," he said. "Bold," Theresa remarked as he hopped onto the back seat. But she didn't mind taking him along. Theresa started the scooter, swung herself onto it, and steered them toward downtown.