As the cultists are destroyed, Eddy reaches inside his hoodie and encloses the maple key in his fingers. Tactile confirmation that it's still safe. Even if it was more than capable of protecting itself. He lets out a heavy sigh.

That feeling of color being drained away is one he's experienced before firsthand. It felt invasive then, and it does again now. Still, knowing everything that came after, it's odd to see how peacefully this memory ends. Everyone makes mistakes, but when you're a what? A whole damn forest? Those mistakes can become cataclysmic fast.

"Better. Whatever it did," he agrees, as he pushes himself to his feet gingerly. His legs no longer burn, having settled into a dull ache—irritating, but not debilitating. Jupiter seems to have all the help she needs, but he offers his captain a slight nod. She'd wrecked it good. The cultist and herself.

He waits at the edge of the fairy ring, small precious thing still enclosed in his hand.