Weeks later, Lillian and I sat by a campfire on the beach with some of our friends, watching as glittering cinders swirled up into the night sky.
E.P. sat across from us, leaning against Thundercloud as he roasted a marshmallow on a stick. "I'm no scientist, man, but I think it's lookin' good." He rotated the stick, turning the charred side of the marshmallow away from the flames. "I think we're gonna make this happen."
"It's just a matter of time." M.J., who was leaning against Thundercloud to the right of E.P., was roasting three marshmallows at once, lined up on a single stick. "Now that everyone's joined forces, we really have a chance at this."
"I think you're right." I nodded and flashed my million dollar grin. Ever since Byzantine's death, the factions of counterfeit Heave
