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“Don’t do it! Don’t do it! You’re murdering me!!” Grace screamed, thrashing beneath the soldiers as they held him down. “Carl! Please! Don’t!!”
Carl stood over the teacher, heart aching with guilt in his chest. He kept his hands firmly stuffed in his pockets, hiding the trembling in his fingers as he stared down at Grace, blue eyes staring pleadingly, desperately up at Carl.
“You know who you are,” he said, voice low but carrying. “You’re gonna do great.”
He could see the soldiers parting for the doctor, and while Grace couldn’t see him, the blonde could hear when the man put his briefcase down, latches opening with sharp clicks. Grace’s face paled and he jerked, doing everything in his power to break free of their grip. The soldiers had to lean forward and press more of their weight on him to hold him still, a hand mashing Grace’s head against the dirt to try and hold him still.
“Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Don’t-” Grace wheezed out, tears streaming down his face as the needle dug into his neck. He whined, a pure, animalistic sound of terror and hopelessness.
The doctor backed off as soon as the sedative was fully injected into Grace, taking the needle with him as Grace’s struggles began to slow and weaken. He kept making choked, gurgling noises, as though he were still trying to beg them not to send him. Tears fell from vacant blue eyes as his eyes closed and the clawed hold he had on the grass loosened.
Carl bit his lip and forced himself to keep watching as Grace finally went limp on the ground, looking so small in his yellow raincoat.
“He should be good for transport,” the doctor stated. A soldier nodded and waved over a flatbed truck that was already approaching. Carl closed his eyes and sighed.
Soon Grace would be getting fully prepped for his coma and put under. He’d be kept in a jail cell for the next two days after being allowed to wake up, just to make sure the sedative didn’t cause any problems with the coma. Then he would be gone, and the bright figure he’d become in Carl’s life would vanish.
The truck settled and stopped, but just as the guards reached out to grab Grace and lift him into the truck bed, Grace jerked with a choked cry.
Carl straightened, tensing as the soldiers and doctor began to freak out, wondering how Grace was still conscious.
“What’s happening??” One of them snapped at the doctor.
“I-I don’t know, this shouldn’t be possible!”
Grace arched, back rounding out as his head pressed against the grass and his hands carved through the partially frozen icy ground.
“Is he having an allergic reaction??” Another soldier shouted.
“The sedative was specifically picked for Doctor Grace, that’s not possible!” The doctor refuted.
Carl didn’t understand how they could be arguing when Grace was in pain. He was curled over on himself, practically fetal on the grass.
An agonized scream ripped out of his throat, but his eyes still didn’t open. He was still unconscious, Carl realized. Grace himself was still under the sedative’s effect.
Then what the hell is causing him so much pain??
“What is going on?” Carl turned, red hair flashing in his vision as Stratt stormed over, clearly displeased this was taking so long.
“We’re not sure, Ms. Stratt! Dr. Grace just started freaking out after the sedative was injected!” The doctor stammered. Stratt’s eyes turned to Grace, where the man was still jerking and shrieking with pain.
Carl grimaced at the loud shriek that ripped out of Grace’s throat as his back arched.
And then something ripped.
Fabric and blood splattered across those nearby as four glowing things burst from Grace’s back. Finally, the scientist went limp and Carl had to cover his eyes for a moment.
Slowly, the light dimmed and Carl’s jaw dropped as he took in the four white wings extending from Grace’s back. There was blood staining around where they connected to his back, where they’d ripped free of his back, and some along the feathers of the upper set of wings.
Grace never mentioned he had Angel blood.
Stratt stared at Grace’s wings in shock. Angels were rare. Technically speaking, they were another humanoid in the Homo sapiens family tree, but they weren’t humans. Supposedly they had wings, at least in the ancient records and even a few fossil records.
But how they gained the wings was a topic of much controversy and discussion. Some said it was based on age, and developmental markers, but there were far too few samples to use and prove that theory true. Others claimed they were biblical angels that mankind had lured to Earth and trapped. The most popular belief…
An angel gets their wings when they have changed or will change the course of human history, Carl thought. A glance at Stratt and he could tell she was thinking the same thing.
“Get him to the medical bay, start getting him prepped for launch,” she ordered, the words sharp and clipped. She pursed her lips as she looked at the wings. “And see if the wings can be clipped off.”
Jaws dropped at Stratt’s orders. An Angel, no- Grace had just manifested his wings and she already wanted them cut off. Four beautiful wings, the first confirmed living examples of an Angel’s wings in over five centuries, and she wanted them destroyed like they’d never been there.
Then Carl thought about it a bit more.
Weight was carefully calculated on the Hail Mary, as was space. Grace would be in a coma for four years, with a robot that had no idea how to handle a man with wings. Not to mention that things like food and the coma slurry were precisely calculated to last depending on their sizes and the caloric needs of three comatose humans. How much more the wings added to his caloric intake was completely unknown.
Not to mention any modifications to the EVA suit or clothing being sent with Grace so his wings could fit through them. Now to be fair, Grace would hopefully never need to go on a space walk with Ilyukhina and Yao there, but it was still possible that he would need to do something outside the ship in case the other two were hurt or unable.
“That’s an order, soldiers,” Stratt growled, turning to glare sharply at the others standing around. Immediately they began moving, carefully lifting Grace onto the bed of the truck. Their hands were almost reverent as they held the wings and adjusted their positions. Carl watched as the truck turned on and began to pull away, Grace looking small and frail among a halo of feathers and his yellow raincoat.
Stratt stood next to him, watching alongside Carl.
“Did you know about his ancestry?” Carl questioned.
“No,” Stratt said plainly.
“What do you think it means…that this happened now?” He questioned. Stratt pressed her lips together.
“We’re doing the right thing. I believe Grace will pull through, just like he always does,” she murmured. Carl turned to watch the truck continue away, soldiers trailing after it.
Was it proof? Was this a guarantee that Grace would succeed? Finding the solution to the astrophage eating their sun would in theory be enough to change human history, but so could choosing to not do the mission. Neither Yao or Ilyukhina would be able to force Grace to work, once they were in space. If he just decided to not try to find a solution to send back…
Carl glanced back at Stratt. Her eyes were red around the edges, her lips were bleeding from where she’d been biting them. Her hands were trembling and curled tight around her arms as she watched the truck leave.
Carl turned away and said nothing.
“What do you mean, you can’t clip the wings?” Stratt growled at Lamai. The doctor grimaced.
“They’ve tried just about everything, Stratt. Smaller tools don’t cut. Scalpels don’t cut skin and feather, tourniquets can’t even bend the feathers or skin. We tried saws, starting with smaller bone saws and moving up to full on chain saws, Stratt. The wings just turned to flame, or plasma, or something just to make sure that we can’t cut through. And since we can’t risk Doctor Grace’s health, we’ve had to stop trying,” Lamai explained.
“What do you mean they turn into fire??” Stratt questioned incredulously.
“I mean that whenever we try to bring something big and dangerous near the wings, they heat up and glow, producing enough heat to literally melt the equipment. We’ve tried putting ice on his wings and keeping our equipment colder to prevent it from melting, but that just makes the wings heat up more,” Lamai huffed. Stratt was quiet for a moment, consideringly.
“‘And so they came on wings of flame, with sword in hand for one last stand’,” Stratt quoted. A well known poem used to support the existence of angels from ancient times. Whether or not it was true wasn’t known, but it was seeming slightly more accurate the more they heard about Grace’s seemingly impossible wings.
“I suppose that would explain why no one’s been able to take an angel’s wings,” Carl sighed.
“Any idea how they’ll impact the ship and Grace’s well being?” Stratt questioned.
“Not in the slightest,” Lamai admitted. “The weirdest part is that if we try to weigh Grace, his weight is the same as it was before his wings manifested. Yet we can feel that his wings have weight. So either Doctor Grace himself lost weight, which I can assure he hasn’t, or the wings themselves don’t have weight.”
“Caloric intake?”
“Hard to tell until after Grace wakes up. We’ll have to figure out if they impact his hunger by his responses…though I don’t advise giving him any food before being put in the coma,” Lamai said.
“Why not?” Stratt asked.
“The medical bots aren’t equipped to handle solid stool, so we’d have to clean Dr. Grace out before the launch if he was allowed to eat,” Lamai explained. Stratt pursed her lips before sighing and shaking her head.
“We’re already sending Grace to his death, I would like for him to have at least some comforts before he goes. Even if it means more work, I would like for him to have at least one last meal of his own request before we put him under and send him off,” she said. “Speaking of, how soon will it be until he wakes up?”
“Within the hour. He’s already been transferred to his cell, with a guard detail keeping an eye on things to make sure he doesn’t escape.” Lamai looked sick as she said the words, which didn’t surprise Carl in the slightest. It was horrific, what they were asking her to do to Grace. Lamai hadn’t signed on to send a man off to his death against his will, but they didn’t have time to be gentle with Grace anymore.
They didn’t have time to pander to what was moral with the entire planet on the line.
“You’re dismissed for now, Lamai. I want you to keep thinking about how to remove the wings, anything at all. If there is anyway to avoid it, I would rather not send Grace to space with flaming wings. Got it?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
With that Stratt turned and left the room, Carl trailing after her. He technically wasn’t currently assigned since he was originally supposed to guard Grace.
But Grace was currently already under guard in solitary confinement, as per Stratt’s orders. The guards saluted as Stratt approached, glancing at each other nervously.
“How is he?” She questioned.
“Awake, Ma’am, and very unhappy.” Stratt nodded.
“That’s to be expected. Is he restrained?”
Carl grimaced at the thought of Grace waking up alone and tied up.
“Yes, Director Stratt. The wings did provide a complication, so his hands are actually chained up, above his head. You should be able to adjust the chain length from right next to the door, in case that’s what you want,” the second guard reported. Stratt nodes.
“Open the door.”
The cell door opened with a creak and Carl followed Stratt into the room.
And there was Grace.
Sitting on the cot, pressed against the wall.
His wings were flared out, like a cat puffing up its fur to look bigger. His hands were chained up and in the air, the chain trailing along the wall.
The orange jumpsuit looked very good on him, even with some emergency modifications to make space for the wings.
But his eyes were what dragged Carl’s attention the most. Bright, vivid blue, like the afternoon sky. Filled with fear, betrayal, and hurt. A faint trace of anger kept flickering in and out as Grace shifted, knees pulled up to his chest.
“Stratt.”
It stung just the slightest that Grace didn’t even acknowledge Carl’s presence, but he couldn’t blame the man if he was being honest. He probably wouldn’t want to acknowledge someone who stood by and watched as he was held down and sedated.
“Grace. I’m sorry things have come to this,” Eva stated.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Stratt, please. I can help here on Earth, just please-“
“I think you know better than that, Grace. Your new appendages give that away,” Stratt cut off. Grace flinched and his wings pulled tightly against his back, as though he could hide them by sheer force of will. “You will go up there, and I have full faith you will find a solution to the astrophage.”
“And die in the process??” Grace choked out, eyes welling with tears. Stratt pressed her lips into a thin line but nodded nonetheless.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Then I just won’t do it. If you send me on that mission, Stratt I will-I’ll sabotage the mission!” Grace spat out, practically choking on the words as tears began to flow down his cheeks. Eva stared at him for a moment before shaking her head.
“No you won’t, Doctor Grace. I know you. You’re not that kind of man,” she said softly. Grace glared at her, true anger finally appearing in his eyes.
“I’ll do it, Stratt. I’ll do it just to spite you!”
But Stratt was already shaking her head, tears glinting in the corner of her eyes but not falling.
“No you won’t, Grace. You’re too kind, you care too much to scuttle the mission once you’re already on it. I’m ninety-nine percent sure you won’t sabotage the mission once you’re already there,” she dismissed.
Grace swallowed thickly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pulled on the chains keeping his hands in the air, as though trying to curl them against his chest as he began to shake.
Blue eyes flicked to Carl, and this time Carl couldn’t meet Grace’s eyes.
“But I can’t take even a one percent chance that I’m wrong,” Stratt said.
Carl stiffened and a shudder ran through Grace, causing him to push his feet against the cot’s mattress and practically merge with the wall as Stratt kept speaking.
“I didn’t want to do this, Grace. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do anymore than forcing you on the Hail Mary. But if you are threatening to destroy the mission and all of humanity’s hopes with it, I cannot take that chance.”
Carl and Grace both stared at Stratt incredulously, terror building in the air.
“There’s a French interrogation drug that causes temporary amnesia. It is non harmful, non permanent, and does not erase skills. Yao and Ilyukhina will not be informed of it and will subsequently think it is just a side effect of the coma,” she explained, eyes distant and glazed over slightly. Grace was slowly shaking his head, eyes wide and unseeing as the stream of tears that had frozen as Stratt talked slowly began to build again, spilling over his cheeks as his head dropped forward.
“No, no, no, no, no, please, please no, don’t…”
“I’m sorry, Ryland,” Eva murmured.
“First you’re going to take me from Earth and then you’re going to take my memories??? I can’t- I-“ Grace shook his head, chest heaving as he began hyperventilating. Carl clenched his fists, digging his short nails into his skin to keep himself from reaching out to try and help soothe Grace.
“Dinner will be in a few hours, Grace. Do you have any preferences?”
The only answer to Stratt’s question was sobbing as Grace’s wings flared and curled around him to hide him from sight.
It was like something out of a painting when Grace finally looked up again, white wings glowing slightly to give him a holy glow. His blonde hair turned gold in the light and his eyes were filled with piercing sorrow as shining silver tears dripped down his cheeks. With his hands still held over his head, he looked like an angel held at the mercy of a devil.
“I’ll let the mess hall know to make your favorite,” Stratt murmured, turning to leave the room. Carl turned to follow her, but before he left the room, Carl paused to adjust the chains, giving Grace enough length to curl his hands back towards his chest.
Then he walked out without a second glance. As they walked away down the hallway, Stratt glanced back at him and raised a single eyebrow.
“It seemed cruel,” Carl murmured.
Stratt turned back without a response.
“It’s time, Grace.”
Grace stared at Stratt with utter fear in his eyes, feeling his heart begin to race in his chest as he curled his new wings tighter around him. He could feel the way his breathing picked up, fear making adrenaline race through his body as the guards tightened their grips on their tasers.
They couldn’t risk killing him, after all.
“Please, Eva, please don’t do this,” he whimpered, trembling on the cot as he pressed himself away from them and the gurney they rolled into the room.
“You can either cooperate, Dr. Grace, or you can be forcibly sedated. Which will it be?”
Grace could feel his heart race in his chest, the edges of his vision blurring out as he focused on Stratt in pure terror. He swallowed thickly, glancing over at the guards and doctors that had followed. He could see Lamai in the background, though she refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on the ground beside her.
Apparently he’d taken too long as the guards began to step forward, making him jerk and wings flare wide. He still wasn’t entirely used to the large wings, especially having four of them rather than the expected two, but they reacted very easily to his emotions.
“I’ll cooperate! I’ll cooperate, just please-“
Please what? Please don’t send me? That’s not going to stop them and I know it. Even if I beg them, they’re still going to send me one way or another.
The chains loosened and Grace slowly shifted to the edge of the bed, setting his bare feet on the cold concrete. The guards gestured towards the gurney and Grace flinched, feeling the way terror made it hard to relax his chest so he could breathe.
He shakily rose to his feet, feeling the way his wings flapped slightly to help him up faster. He held his arms tightly to his chest and slowly began walking forward, breath hitching as he finally reached the gurney. It wouldn’t be his metal coffin in space, but somehow it felt like it was a coffin either way.
“Sit down, Doctor Grace,” Stratt ordered.
Grace flinched but obeyed, sitting down on the gurney. He jerked and let out a whine as hands on his shoulders slowly guided him to lay down on his back. It was uncomfortable with his wings, but as he felt straps wrap around his ankles and over his hips he understood why he was laying down. He bit back a sob as the clips snapped shut, locking him place on the gurney.
Another strap came up and held him down across the chest, carefully passing between the upper and lower sets of wings as Grace’s heart raced in his chest, feeling like it was about to explode. He was trembling, shaking as they carefully leaned his head back and released the cuffs around his wrists. He felt as they were strapped to the gurney, breath shuddering as he began to sob, eyes unfocused and blurred.
A hand stroked through his hair as a needle pressed against his neck, sinking into soft skin again. Grace continued to sob, even as he slowly began to sink deeper into unconsciousness. His eyes shut, the tears finally slowing to a stop.
“Get him prepped for the mission. Clean him up,” Eva ordered, turning away from Grace’s limp, unconscious body. Even his wings were limp, the light almost dulled and faint around them.
”Oh, Gracie…” Ilyukhina had tears in her eyes when Grace was finally wheeled out to join the procession towards the launch bay.
He would be fully prepped for the trip on the ISS, but for the moment he was dressed in a white space suit with golden wings on the left breast.
Despite Stratt’s irritation and Lamai’s best efforts, the wings remained, cradling Grace in a cocoon of soft, warm white feathers that gave him an angelic glow. He looked almost cherubic as the gurney was guided down the walkway. If it weren’t for his oxygen mask or the IVs he was attached to, they would genuinely believe he was just sleeping.
“This mission will succeed,” Yao stated proudly, eyes crinkling with bittersweet pride. “Doctor Grace will make sure of it.”
Stratt could already see the cameras flashing and reporters practically frothing at the mouth when they realized that Grace had manifested wings. And not just the regular two wings, but four wings, something that Eva knew historically had only been confirmed twice.
And now there was a third.
Lamai’s team had made sure to clean up any trace that would suggest Grace had been crying, leaving him looking peaceful and relaxed, even with the mask over his face. She followed behind the astronauts as they approached the shuttle that would take them up to the International Space Station.
Grace was flush with life, practically glowing with it, and yet Eva couldn’t help but feel like this is what Grace’s corpse would look like.
And she was the one who murdered him.
“Good luck,” she said to Yao and Ilyukhina.
“We will not need it,” Ilyukhina said proudly. “All the luck we need already gave us Grace.”
Yao nodded in agreement and the two stepped into the shuttle elevator, guiding Grace’s gurney in with them. Stratt watched for a moment as it lifted, before turning to leave and dispel the surrounding reporters.
They’d get their speech later, after the rocket had launched.
Decades later, as the world warmed and humanity recovered from their miniature ice age, Stratt stood before a wall carving in the Hail Mary Museum. It wasn’t often that she visited, but sometimes she felt the urge to see it.
Along the bottom of the carving were dozens of small figures. She could pick out her own in the middle, slightly larger than the others but not nearly as big as the two above.
Yao and Ilyukhina were carved with expressions of joy and pride. Ilyukhina had an almost mischievous grin while Yao looked like a proud father.
But the centerpieces of the wall relief were still higher. Grace’s cupped hands came to just above Yao and Ilyukhina’s shoulders, holding a miniature Rocky in his palms.
And held aloft above Rocky by two of his legs, was an image of Earth.
At the very top of it all, with wings spread to encompass everything below, was Grace. For once his glasses were sitting properly on his face and he was smiling gently down at his cupped hands, where Rocky held the Earth for Grace. The carving had taken seven years for the artist to get perfect, each feather and minute detail carved to perfection. It was the largest depiction of Grace in the world, only rivaled by the statue that had been put up in front of the school he’d once taught at.
Stratt smiled up at Grace’s face, even if his stone eyes never glanced away from Rocky and the Earth in his claws. It always amused her to think of all the accolades he’d been given for the mission. He’d been Knighted by the Queen of England and even given Sainthood.
The idea of Ryland Grace, who played ‘Lava’ with a crocheted earth bean bag, who wore stupid science pun T-shirts as much as he could, being given Sainthood was something she knew he would’ve hated. He would’ve been so uncomfortable when it was announced. Probably would’ve done everything he could to turn it down without disrespecting the Pope or something.
“Good luck to you, Ryland Grace.”
Grace sneezed, face contorting violently and startling Rocky where he was resting next to him.
“Disgust! Grace is very disgust disgust disgust! Got mucus and leaky fluids all over Rocky's suit! Disgust!" Grace sniffed and wiped at his nose, rolling his eyes at Rocky's dramatics.
“Oh don't give me that, Rocky, I know perfectly well that you know what a sneeze is. Besides, I was looking away from you, how would my mucus have gotten onto your suit?" he huffed, wings flapping behind him.
“Rocky downstream in artificial wind! Even if Grace sneezed away from Rocky, the wind carried it down onto Rocky! When Grace last sleep, question?!"
“Oh don't give me that, Grace said, turning to glare playfully at Rocky. "You know very well that you woke me up a few hours ago. Also, if that is the case, then it was a lose-lose situation! Either I sneeze directly on you, or I try to avoid it and still sneeze on you because of the wind. Just go cartwheel in the water, it'll wash off. Drama queen."
"Oh! Oh, Grace dismiss Rocky! Grace dismiss Rocky concern like it's no big deal?! Grace lost movie privileges with Rocky! No movies with Rocky for hundred years!" Grace laughed and enjoyed the high chitters that escaped Rocky's body as the Eridian laughed alongside him.
They both relaxed, staring at the artificial sea for a moment before Rocky tilted his carapace, a mimicry of how Grace would tilt his head, and spoke again.
"Grace fly today, question?"
Grace's wings fluttered and he hummed thoughtfully. It was hard to remember how once he'd been terrified when he'd first woken up with the wings. He hadn't known he'd had angel DNA, and he certainly hadn't expected wings to ever manifest. It had actually been one of the guards who told him what happened, while he was chained up in his cell.
Also, were normal handcuffs not enough?? Did they have to use thick chains hanging from the ceiling?? It was honestly like something out of a movie.
Regardless, Grace's wings had been utter nightmares to work with on the Hail Mary.
The space was too small, even if it was originally all to Grace himself. His wings kept banging into things over and over until he'd made a…working harness to keep them flat to his back and legs. Truthfully it had looked like some beginner’s poor attempt at rope bondage. It wasn't perfect, but it fit well enough for Grace to do space walks, even if it was really painful to do so.
Rocky had made him a much better harness on their way to Adrian, which had been really helpful up until Grace was being smashed into the control panels because of the ship spinning out of control. At which point his wings hadn't been able to flap and get him even just the little bit of distance he needed to turn on the centrifuge.
Oddly enough, when he'd shoved Rocky into his airlock and gotten a blast of superheated ammonia as a reward, his wings hadn't been hurt even after he'd used them to shield from it. It was uncomfortable, but Grace walked away from the experience with only Rocky's handprint on his arm to prove it had happened.
And copious amounts of trauma, of course.
On Erid, the Eridians had been very excited about the wings and wanted to run many, many tests. Which is how Grace learned that apparently his wings could turn into some sort of fiery plasma that didn't burn him and worked perfectly fine in twice the gravity of Earth. Apparently the Eridians were very confused by the fact that Grace wasn't constantly falling backwards due to how heavy and dense the muscles and bones in his wings were.
"Unlike birds on Earth, with light light light bone to make flight easy, Grace wings dense. Too dense. In Earth gravity, muscles and bones should've kept Grace down. Heavy, heavy weights. But in Erid gravity, wings work like normal bird wings. But better. Not sure how to say in small words."
That had been Adrian's explanation after everything their team had found. Basically, Grace's wings were completely messed up and shouldn't have even worked in Earth's atmosphere.
Admittedly he'd never had the chance to see if they did work on Earth, since he'd been kept in a jail cell before being cast into space on a suicide mission. The furthest his wings had ever spread on Earth was from wall to wall in his cell when he first panicked after realizing he had them at all.
But either way, the wings worked just fine on Erid, despite the much higher gravity. Rocky both loved and hated when Grace flew. Hated it because it was much harder to hear him, only able to hear when Grace made noise or flapped his wings, but loved it because of how it left Grace feeling.
"I might, later today," Grace said with a shrug and a smile. "Why, you want to watch?"
"Rocky always watch."
"Alright bud, but I do have a class to teach first. Speaking of…I need to get going."
Rocky laughed and waved goodbye to Grace as his wings beat, lifting him slightly into the air so he could get his feet under him. As he arrived at the classroom, he could already hear the excited pebbles cheering his name, eagerly awaiting today's class.
For all that he desperately hadn't wanted to go to space, he would never give this up. His life was perfect now.
"Who can tell me the speed of light?"
A chorus of chittering cries and pebbles eagerly tappings their claws on the ground was his answer, and Grace grinned, ready for the day. His wings fluttered behind him, settling on his back like they'd always been there. And as far as the Eridians knew, they always had.
"Uh Rocky? We might need the medical team for this one, bud."
"What's wrong, question?"
"I…seem to be not aging??"
"Oh…this is a problem, question?"
"That should've been a statement, but whatever. Yes, it's a problem."
"Why? Now Grace live long long time with Rocky! Is good!"
"I…well when you put it like that, I guess I can't argue."
"Good, good, good. Grace live long and happy on Erid."
"Yeah, bud, I guess so."
"Grace happy, question?"
"...the happiest I've ever been."
"Amaze amaze amaze!"