(Meanwhile, back at the jungle, during the noon hour, Flare and Focus slow down a little on their training, and yet the latter is still firmly standing in front of Flare, as if still willing to teach her something. Flare, however, gets the chance to drink a bottle of water beforehand and catch a breath, abandoning her sleeveless orange denim jacket and proceeding with her sleeveless black top.)

  Focus: (firmly) I’m not downplaying your strength with what I’m about to say, but to put it into perspective, for someone of your caliber, your blows don’t carry as much strength as you can pull off.

  Flare: Wait, really? (sighing deeply) No wonder it was so easy for you to block my punch back then.

  Focus: (taking the exact fighting stance he’s describing) Let’s start with the stance. Your posture decides if you hit hard or get flattened. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight balanced. Keep your core tight. Every punch starts from your legs and ends at your knuckles, so if your base is shaky, everything else is useless. Think of your stance like loading a spring. The tighter and more stable it is, the more energy you can release when you move. Loose stance, weak hit.

  Flare: (attempting to take a proper fighting stance) So… like that or…?

  Focus: A bit more space between your feet. Bend your knees a little, like you’re getting ready for a marathon. No, not that much. Not like you’re about to trip. Just a bit more upright… and… perfect. Keep it that way.

  Flare: (baffled) So am I gonna spend half of the fight’s runtime adjusting my stance? Really?

  Focus: No, of course not. In fact, during pure combat, you mustn’t waste so much time on thoughts. Every blow, every dodge, every tactic… it must be purely instinctive. We’ve got enough time to work on that… to help you hone those skills and turn them into second nature, something you’ll be able to accomplish without much thought and effort.

  Flare: Ohhhh, cool!

  Focus: Now let’s talk about your punches. Most people think punching’s about arm strength. It’s not. It’s about the chain — (slowly swinging his fist to demonstrate) feet, hips, shoulder, fist. Rotate your hips with the punch, drive from your back leg. Your arm’s just the delivery system. Now you show me. (glancing at a tree) Land a punch at that tree over there.

  (Flare nods with a faint smirk and approaches the tree, taking a fighting stance in front of it. She spends a bit of time adjusting her stance to suit Focus’s previous instructions, which causes the latter to roll his eyes at her, but she eventually gets the hang of it, taking a deep breath as she clenches her fist.)

  Flare: (taking a deep breath, muttering to herself) Okay. (getting ready to swing her fist) Feet, hips, shoulder, fist. Feet, hips, shoulder, fist. Feet, hips, shoulder, fist. YOLO!

  (With a grunt, Flare swings her fist at the tree for a punch, her swing rather erratic. The moment she strikes the tree, however, she ends up hurting her hand, and she yells in pain while clutching her hand. She even starts rolling on the floor as she keeps yelling, to which Focus raises an eyebrow in bafflement.)

  Flare: (yelling in pain) OWCHIE OWCHIE OWCHIE OUCH!

  Focus: (baffled) It couldn’t have been that painful.

  Flare: SHOWS WHAT YOU KNOW, JERK!

  Focus: (sighing deeply) The tighter you keep your form mid-swing, the more power transfers. Relax your shoulders, clench just before impact. Too early and you lose speed; too late and you break a finger.

  Flare: (still in pain) Can’t argue with that!

  Focus: And don’t swing wild. You’re not throwing your fist — you’re driving through your target. Hit through, not at. Imagine you’re trying to knock over something behind the person.

  Flare: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?!

  Focus: (blankly) I thought you already knew that much. I really wonder how you lasted this long without knowing how to punch.

  Flare: (still yelling and rolling in pain) I KNOW HOW TO PUNCH! I EVEN PUNCHED YOU IN THE FACE!!!

  Focus: Yeah, yeah, whatever. Oh, and one more thing. The timing of your blow can matter more than the blow itself. You don’t attack just because you can. You attack when they can’t react. Every move has rhythm. Learn theirs, then break it. Watch for patterns: breathing, shifting weight, shoulder twitches before they punch. That’s your green light. Hit right between their rhythm. Just keep that in mind, will ya?

  Flare: (still wincing in pain) Yeah, sure. (glancing at the sky, flatly) Oh, it’s noon already? Oh, well. Guess we’re done for now.

  (After a while, Flare finally gets over that pain, and as she puts on her sleeveless orange denim jacket, she nods at Focus with a smirk, who puts his hands on his pockets with a sigh. The two notice Mr. Gallagher heading towards them with a small pancake, enough to be split between the three of them for breakfast.)

  Flare: (surprised) Oh, Shay! Hi! What brings you here?

  Mr. Gallagher: (chuckling heartedly) Ah, come on. Ya didn’t even have yer brekkie. Sit yerself down.

  (Flare and Focus glance at each other with blank expressions but sit down regardless, and Mr. Gallagher sets down the small pancake in front of them before sitting down as well. He grabs the knife and cuts the pancake into three slices, sliding two of them to Flare and Focus then handing them a pair of spoons. They accept the spoons and begin to take their bites, while Shay starts eating as well.)

  Mr. Gallagher: So… how’s it goin’ with yer trainin’ or whatever?

  Flare: (blankly) No comment.

  Focus: (side-eyeing her) Just to be clear, that was your idea.

  Mr. Gallagher: (chuckling) Ye’re done fer now, aren’ ye?

  Focus: (flatly) Kinda.

  Mr. Gallagher: Sure, I reckon ye wouldn’t mind if I took ye fer a wee stroll ’round the town, eh?

  Flare: (sighing deeply) I guess you did keep saying that. But… is it really necessary?

  Mr. Gallagher: (grinning) Ah, but ye’ve arrived just on time! Y’see, t’night’s the Lantern Jubilee. Ye gotta stick around fer it, lass, I promise ye’ll enjoy yerself!

  Flare: (baffled) The Lantern What-i-lee?

  Mr. Gallagher: It’s a wee annual celebration we’ve set up fer today. It’s got quite the backstory behind it, and I really hope ye’ll join us. I reckon ye deserve a bit o’ time off.

  Flare: (annoyed) You say “annual celebration”, I hear “all the more reason not to join”. It’s just me getting more attention than I’m asking for, and I’ve already done enough of that for the last few days!

  Focus: (muttering, while munching on a slice of pancake) Complaining about getting attention? You’re one to talk with all that yelling.

  Flare: Besides, we’ve got a lot of stuff to deal with a long way ahead! We can’t just stick around for too long! (turning to Focus) Come on! Back me up here, man!

  Focus: (sighing deeply) Actually, I don’t see why not.

  Flare: (flames coming out of her head in frustration) WHAT THE HELL-FLAMES?!!!

  Focus: (flatly) We’ve got no ride, no supplies, nothing. It’s gonna take all day to figure that stuff out, so we may as well stick around.

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  Flare: (unamused) Ironically enough coming from someone named “Focus”. Thanks for nothing, poker face.

  Mr. Gallagher: (standing up, the trio finishing up their breakfast) Right then. Ye can take a wee break back at me gaff an’ join us if ye fancy it. It’s up to ye, truly, an’ I get it if ye don’t wanna get involved.

  (He gets back up on his feet and heads out of the jungle, and Flare and Focus reluctantly stand up as well and follow him. After a while, as the trio arrive at Larkspur, specifically at Mr. Gallagher’s house, Gauntlet keeps an eye on them from afar, out of sight and out of earshot, a smirk on his face.)

  Gauntlet: (thinking to himself, smirking) There they are. The Terrible Twos. You better watch out, you two. Gauntlet’s onto ya.

  (It’s only a short while before he senses his phone vibrating, and he hides behind a tree to pull out his phone. He quickly identifies the caller as none other than Commander Locke then immediately answers the call.)

  Gauntlet: (via phone, nonchalantly) ’Sup, Phil?

  Commander Locke: (via phone, sternly) You may only refer to me as commander or sir. Even so, my name is Phillip Locke, mind you.

  Gauntlet: (shrugging) Boy, something must’ve pissed you off, which isn’t hard. In any case, glad you called. I’ve got something that can cheer you up. (smirking) You see, I’ve tracked down the targets, and by the looks of it, they won’t see me coming.

  Commander Locke: Then get the job done this time. If we don’t, then Aegis gets to last another day.

  Gauntlet: So it’s just as you expected. That the Secretary of Defense wouldn’t dare to disband Aegis if we don’t clean up their mess first.

  Commander Locke: (gritting his teeth) And as much as I hate to admit it, he makes a valid point. The situation is rather complicated, and we clearly lack the required context to comprehend it. Until we capture the targets, Aegis will remain vital in the grand scheme of things. To put it simply, if we wish to end Aegis and their Surge program, we’ll have to effectively replace it.

  Gauntlet: (rolling his eyes) Alright, alright, I’ll get it done. But don’t get your hopes up too much, commander. You and I both know what we’re up against.

  Commander Locke: (firmly) I won’t, and you better not fail me either.

  Gauntlet: (shortly before ending the call) Understood.

  (During the afternoon hour, Mr. Gallagher is helping the other townspeople set up their small bazaars on the road, while others hang decorations all around town. As Shay oversees preparations, he notices Flare and Focus approaching him, the former crossing her arms with a pout — as if begrudgingly agreeing to this — and the latter placing his hands in his pockets while looking around with an unbothered expression. The sight brings a smile to the old Irishman’s face nonetheless, and he greets them accordingly.)

  Mr. Gallagher: (chuckling) Ah, well, how’s it goin’, lads? Delighted ye made it here, but… what had ye second-guessin’? Took ye a right age, thought ye’d never arrive!

  Focus: (crossing his arms, firmly) It’s nothing. Sure it took a while, but Flare and I handled it like adults.

  [A few hours ago…]

  (Back at Mr. Gallagher’s house, Flare and Focus sit down on the ground in front of each other, glaring at each other with stern expressions. They extend their palms at one another with a sharp look on their eyes, intending to settle their feud with a high-stakes game of rock-paper-scissors. After they go at it, Flare notices her scissors meeting Focus’s rock, reacting to that with a horrified expression. Focus ends up grabbing her leg and dragging her out of Mr. Gallagher’s house by the back of her shirt, while she yells in frustration and desperately attempts to crawl her way out, barely fazing Focus, who remains unamused and deadpan throughout all this.)

  Flare: (exasperated, trying to crawl out of Focus’s grasp on her leg) NO FAIR!!! WHY DO YOU KEEP WINNING EVERY SINGLE TIME?! IT’S IMPOSSIBLE!!! JUST GIMME ONE MORE TRY!!! JUST ONE MORE!

  Focus: (unamused) You asked for that 163 times already. I won all of them. I simply never lost a game of rock-paper-scissors in my life.

  Flare: ONLY CUZ YOU’RE CHEATING!!! YEAH, YOU MUST BE CHEATING!!! IT’S DEFINITELY GOT SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOUR SUPERHUMAN CRAP, I’M TELLING YOU!!!

  Focus: (exasperated as well) What, you think I’ve got something like a Rock-Paper-Scissors Surge?! You can’t be serious! You think I possess the ability to correctly predict the shape that an opponent’s palm may assume or what?! (letting go of her leg, sighing deeply) You can walk on your own.

  Flare: (whining out loud, repeatedly striking the floor with her fists) BUT I DON’T WANNA GO IN THERE!!! I DON’T WANNA! I DON’T WANNA! I DON’T WANNA! I DON’T WANNA! I DON’T —!

  Focus: (trying to cut her off while shutting off his ears) La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la — !

  [Present time…]

  Focus: (his left eye slightly twitching) We reached a mutual agreement through mature and meaningful dialogue. You surely shall expect nothing less from two responsible, grown-up individuals such as ourselves. Yeah, definitely.

  Mr. Gallagher: (raising an eyebrow) Are ya sure now? The way she looks, it doesn’t seem like a ‘mutual agreement’, does it now?

  Flare: (muttering under her breath, crossing her arms in annoyance) Ain’t it obvious?

  Focus: (sighing deeply) In any case, how can we help with the preparations?

  Mr. Gallagher: We’re nearly set fer th’ grand shindig. Just a wee bit o’ things t’ sort out, that’s it. Now, come on.

  Focus: Yeah, sure. Just note that we still have to pack supplies whenever we can. We’ll be leaving tomorrow.

  Mr. Gallagher: (grinning) I get it, me lad. Just be sure t’ enjoy yerself, will ya?

  (Mr. Gallagher signals Flare and Focus to follow him, and the latter nods at Flare as he walks behind Shay. Flare slowly follows the two, crossing her arms and bowing her head with a reserved, almost bitter expression. Focus notices that, and his usual unbothered expression softens, turning into a soft frown amidst the awkward silence. Mr. Gallagher too notices the dejected look on Flare’s face with a frown as well, but then he turns to Focus, who sighs deeply and prepares to break that silence.)

  Focus: So you said that this event has quite the backstory behind it. What is it, I wonder?

  Mr. Gallagher: (chuckling under his breath) Ah, glad ye asked, me lad! ‘Twas nearly seven decades back, I wasn’t even a glimmer in me ma’s eye, not a chance to witness it. Back in the day, when Larkspur was naught but a handful o’ cabins tryin’ to fend off the wild, a fierce storm came knockin’ that cut the folk off from the rest of the world. No power, no supplies, no light—only thick, dark woods surroundin’ ’em. Tough times they were, for sure.

  Flare: (finally breaking her silence, glancing at Shay in awe) Woah. How did they make it out of this?

  Mr. Gallagher: As it stood, they were fixin’ to suffer, but in their hardship lay a mighty spirit of togetherness, united and ready to lend a hand. The community rallied, forging makeshift lanterns from anything they could scavenge, hangin’ ‘em along the jungle paths to guide folks home, signal safety, and keep the wild beasts at bay. They shared all they had, puttin’ others’ safety before their own. ’Twas thanks to those grand souls and their tireless efforts that this small town weathered that long week of woe.

  Focus: (in awe as well) That’s… interesting.

  Mr. Gallagher: Ah, I kinda reacted like ye did when I heard that tale years back, I did. ‘Tis not just interestin’, boyo. ‘Tis inspirin’. None o’ those folks would’ve made it out on their own, no way. If they hadn’t come together when they did, this town would’ve been wiped off the map, I tell ya. ‘Tis exactly that kind of compassion and connacht that got me when I first landed here, an’ after that, decidin’ to spend the rest o’ me life in this grand town was somethin’ I mulled over in a heartbeat. Ever since that day, we celebrate the moment when all o’ us, man and woman, young and old, lit our bright lanterns to chase away the dark sky, an act that symbolized our unity and hope, more than anythin’ else.

  (Hearing that story softens Flare’s dejected and troubled expression, eating away her bitterness and touching her heart. She notices Focus affected the same way by those words, and the two glance at each other with soft frowns, lost for words. Shay glances at the two of them and sighs deeply, as if understanding what they feel.)

  Mr. Gallagher: (firmly) I get how yer feelin’ ‘bout this, I really do. Maybe ye were made t’ think yer unique powers take away yer right t’ live a normal life, but I don’t see it that way at all. Ye’ve got a grand and meanin’ful life waitin’ for ya. Just… please, don’t waste it holdin’ yerself back. It ain’t worth it.

  Focus: (bowing his head, softly) I’ll… bear that in mind.

  (Mr. Gallagher glances at Flare as well, who nods at him with a bowed head and a soft frown, and he softly smiles at her. The trio eventually meet up with the other townspeople, who are continuing the preparations for the Lantern Jubilee set for tonight. They notice Mr. Gallagher arriving with his guests and stop to meet up with him.)

  Townsman 1A: (grinning) Shay! You’re here!

  Mr. Gallagher: (warmly introducing Flare and Focus to them) Ah, everyone, those be the guests I said I’d bring along. They’re here t’help in any way they can. Lads, meet Flare an’ Focus.

  Flare: (muttering to him, annoyed) Did you really have to give out our names so easily?!

  Mr. Gallagher: (chuckling, to the townspeople) They might seem a wee bit rough at first, so do try t’get along with ’em now.

  Focus: (sighing deeply, politely addressing the townspeople with his hands in his pockets) Hello there. Nice to meet you. It seems you’re setting up the festival quite nicely.

  Townsman 1B: Oh, thanks! It’s nothing, really. I hope you enjoy your time here.

  Flare: (scratching her head) So… we’re just to help… and pack some supplies for tomorrow. We’re not staying forever now, are we? So what can we do for now?

  Townswoman 1A: (amiably, while carrying a box of tools to Flare) Hey, I’m really sorry, dear, but can you take this box to the guys across the street? You’ll see them setting up the bazaar nearby.

  Flare: (wincing while carrying the box) Sure thing, I guess.

  Townsman 1C: (to Focus, grinning while carrying a stove with a few other men) Oh, here! Mind giving me a hand with this thing? We’re trying to put together a kitchen outside!

  Focus: (shrugging) Yeah, yeah, alright.

  (Focus heads over to carry the stove along with the other men, while Flare carries the box of tools over to the townspeople setting up the bazaars, struggling to lift such a heavy weight. Mr. Gallagher chuckles heartedly as he sees the duo taking part in the preparations, then he heads over to set up the festival lights with some other townspeople.)