The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon as Joey "Blue" DiMarco materialized in the heart of Solari Delta, the faint hum of the teleportation pad still ringing in his ears. The cool evening breeze carried the smell of freshly watered gardens and the distant sounds of life that always buzzed through the city. Solari Delta's landscape was a blend of natural beauty and human innovation, with towering arcologies rising out of the fertile Nile Delta and winding rivers snaking their way through the lush greenery. The megacity stood in stark contrast to the devastated world it had risen from, a symbol of resilience and hope.
Joey took a deep breath, letting the warm, earthy air fill his lungs as he began walking toward Black's family home. This was a place he visited often, a sanctuary of sorts. Black's parents had made a life here, and their home reflected that—a small house with a yard, a garden, and a terrace. It wasn't large, but it was enough. It was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the chaos that seemed to follow Joey wherever he went.
The walk through the neighborhood was quiet, filled only with the sounds of nature and the hum of distant city life. Solari Delta's mix of organic and futuristic architecture gave it an almost otherworldly charm—gleaming buildings nestled between lush gardens and quiet streams, a testament to humanity's will to rebuild. Joey had always admired this city. Unlike the cold steel of Cincarion or the sprawling industrial complexes of CoralVault, Solari Delta had managed to blend the beauty of the natural world with the progress of the future. It was the kind of place that gave people hope—something Joey had struggled to hold onto for a long time.
As he neared the house, the scent of food wafted toward him—something hearty and rich, a meal that only someone who cooked with love could prepare. Black's mom, no doubt, had been at it for hours. Joey smiled to himself, the thought of her bustling around the kitchen always brought a sense of warmth. It reminded him of the times he and Black had sat around, swapping stories while devouring plate after plate of her cooking.
The house came into view, its warm yellow lights spilling out onto the terrace. He could already see the familiar silhouette of Black's mom moving inside. The sight tugged at something deep inside Joey—comfort, and a touch of sorrow. She always kept the house lively, despite the unspoken grief that hovered in the corners. It was in the details: the way the light glowed softly through the windows, the smell of fresh herbs from the garden that surrounded the small house, the laughter that once filled the rooms. It felt like home, even if it wasn't his.
He paused for a moment at the gate, his hand hovering over the latch. The thought crept into his mind before he could stop it: Would my family have been like this? If they'd survived Countdown?
His family hadn't been in Chicago like Black's. When the invasion began, they were in Rome. His father, an archaeologist, had been presenting an artifact he'd uncovered to a group of world leaders. Joey's mother, an anthropologist, had been at his side, as she always was during his research presentations. They had moved around constantly, following projects—always seeking history's secrets, always on the edge of discovery. Joey had spent much of his childhood traveling with them, learning about the world through their work.
But in Rome, it had all ended. The skies turned red, and fire rained down. Joey had been there with them, watching the presentation, not knowing it would be the last time they would be together. The invasion swept through, devastating everything in its path. By the time Joey had been pulled to safety, Rome had fallen. His parents—his entire world—were gone.
He shook his head, pushing the thought away. It was too painful, too impossible to dwell on. His family was gone. All that remained now were the bonds he'd forged with those he fought alongside. Black had been his brother in everything but blood. And now, even that connection was severed.
Joey knocked lightly, but before he could step back, the door swung open, revealing Black's mom, her face lighting up the moment she saw him.
"Joey, dear!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a warm hug before he had a chance to say anything. Her apron was dusted with flour, her hands slightly stained from what looked like hours of cooking. She pulled back, beaming up at him. "You're just in time. I've been cooking up a storm!"
He smiled, the tension from earlier slipping away under the warmth of her welcome. "Smells amazing in here," he said, stepping inside. "I'm guessing pie, right?"
Her eyes twinkled as she closed the door behind him. "Pie and cookies," she said proudly, wiping her hands on her apron. "I know how much you and Nova love them."
"Nova's going to be thrilled," Joey chuckled, shaking his head. "She's been bugging me all day about whether it'd be pie or cookies."
"Smart girl," Black's mom said with a wink. "She knows what's important."
Joey made his way into the living room, where the scent of fresh-baked goods and savory dishes blended together in a warm, homely way. The house was modest but filled with character—family photos lined the walls, showing generations of smiling faces. The living room had a large, comfortable couch, and the wooden coffee table was already set with plates and glasses. Everything here felt so different from the sterile, utilitarian spaces Joey was used to on base. This was a home.
He could feel it in every detail: the worn books on the shelves, the knick-knacks that told stories of a long life lived together, the quilt draped over the couch that had probably been passed down through the family for generations. There was a warmth here that Joey hadn't realized he'd missed until now. This wasn't just a place to sleep. This was where life happened—where memories were made, where love lingered in the very air.
"Black would've loved this place," Joey said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. His eyes drifted over to a photo on the mantle—Black, his arm slung casually around Joey's shoulders, both of them grinning like idiots after a victory. That moment felt like a lifetime ago.
Black's mom walked over, her gaze soft as she looked at the same photo. "He did," she said, her voice quiet. "This place... it was his peace."
Joey nodded, sinking into one of the chairs as Black's mom brought out a tray of food. The rich smells of home-cooked dishes filled the air—savory roasts, freshly baked bread, and the unmistakable sweetness of cookies still warm from the oven. The warmth and aroma brought back memories of shared meals with Black, the quiet moments they'd had in between missions, always feeling like a brief but much-needed escape from the war.
"You know," Joey started, his voice soft as he stared down at the steam rising from the plates, "I was thinking about him on the way over here. How he'd always jump in to help anyone who needed it—whether it was hauling equipment or just giving someone a pep talk when things got rough."
Black's mom looked up from setting the tray, a soft smile playing on her lips as she sat down across from Joey. Her eyes were misty, reflecting a thousand untold stories. Joey could tell she wanted to hear more, that she needed these memories as much as he did.
"He was like a force of nature," Joey continued, leaning back into the chair, his eyes drifting up toward the ceiling as he let the memories wash over him. "We could be dead on our feet after a mission—everyone else complaining, wanting to rest—and there Black was, jumping in to lift the heaviest gear without being asked. Like he had this endless reserve of energy."
Black's mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. "He was always stubborn like that. He'd never let anyone else see him tired."
Joey smiled at that. "Yeah, even when he was worn out, you wouldn't know it. And when the rest of us wanted to collapse, he'd get us laughing instead. I remember this one time, we'd been in the field for days, barely sleeping, just trying to get through. And out of nowhere, Black starts telling this ridiculous story about how he once chased a wild boar down a hill, thinking it was a stray dog."
Her eyes lit up with amusement, and she leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Did he actually?"
Joey shook his head, grinning. "No idea. But the way he told it, you'd believe him. He had us all in stitches, laughing so hard we forgot how exhausted we were. He was like that. No matter how bad things got, he had this way of making you feel like you could handle it."
Black's mom nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of the tablecloth. "He always had this ability to bring out the best in people. It wasn't just that he was strong—he was... steady. A rock, really."
Joey looked at her, feeling the weight of her words, and knew she wasn't just talking about missions. "Yeah," he said quietly, "he was. There were days where I'd be ready to throw in the towel, thinking we were all in over our heads. And he'd pull me aside and remind me of why we were fighting—what it was all for. And I'd believe him, because he believed it so strongly."
She smiled sadly, and Joey could see the depth of her pride and grief intertwined. "He got that from his father," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "That deep sense of right and wrong. He couldn't stand seeing injustice. It drove him."
Joey nodded again, the memories coming in clearer waves. "He never backed down, no matter how hard it got. I remember, there was this one mission where we got hit harder than we expected—ambushed. Everyone was scrambling to regroup, but Black? He ran straight into the fray, not to attack, but to shield the civilians who'd been caught in the crossfire. He didn't hesitate for a second. Took hit after hit, but he wouldn't let them fall."
Her eyes glistened as she listened, her hands clasped in front of her. "He always put others first."
Joey swallowed hard, the emotion of the memory catching in his throat. "That's who he was. Even when it would've made sense to retreat, to think about himself—he never did. He was stubborn that way."
Black's mom smiled softly, her gaze distant as though she was seeing her son in front of her. "Stubborn," she repeated, almost fondly. "I remember when he was a boy, he'd get into the same sort of trouble. Always standing up for the younger kids at school, refusing to let anyone be bullied. He wasn't the biggest kid, but that didn't stop him. He had this way of looking at people, like he could see right through them. It scared the bullies off more often than not."
Joey chuckled at the thought of a young Black standing his ground against the world. "Sounds like him. He had that same look in the field. That look that made you feel like you were safe, even when everything was going to hell."
They sat in silence for a moment, the memories filling the space between them, warm and bittersweet. Joey could feel the ache in his chest, but it wasn't a painful ache. It was the kind of ache that came from remembering someone so good, someone who had left such a lasting impact.
"He was a leader," Joey continued, his voice quieter now. "Not because he had to be, but because he wanted to be. I think about all the times he made the hard calls, the ones the rest of us didn't want to make. He carried the weight of those decisions, but he never let it break him."
Black's mom smiled, though her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "That's how he was raised. His father and I, we tried to teach him that you don't shy away from doing what's right, even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
Joey nodded, his heart heavy with both the grief of loss and the comfort of memory. "He took that lesson to heart," he said softly. "I think it's what made him so... untouchable in a way. He was always there, always strong, even when the rest of us weren't."
Black's mom sat back in her chair, wiping the corner of her eye discreetly. "I miss him every day," she admitted. "But hearing you talk about him like this—it helps. It makes me feel like he's still here, in some way."
Joey smiled gently, feeling the same. "He is. In all of us who were lucky enough to know him."
For a long moment, the room was silent again, the weight of memory settling around them like a blanket. Outside, the evening light faded, casting long shadows across the terrace, but inside the warmth remained—fueled by stories, by love, and by the unbreakable bond of a shared loss.
As the quiet moment between Joey and Black's mom lingered, the faint sound of chess pieces being moved from the next room broke the stillness. Joey turned his head toward the den, a grin spreading across his face. He could already hear the playful banter echoing through the house, signaling that Nova and Black's dad were well into their usual chess battle.
"I think Nova's getting a little carried away," Joey remarked, chuckling as the sound of ominous music began to filter into the room, intensifying as the game went on.
Black's mom smiled knowingly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh, she always does. I think she enjoys teasing him more than winning."
Joey pushed back from the table and nodded toward the den. "I should go check on them. It sounds like things are heating up."
Black's mom nodded with a soft laugh. "Go ahead. I'll finish up here."
Joey made his way into the den, stepping into a small but cozy space filled with the smell of old books and the warmth of family. The chessboard sat on a table between two chairs—Black's dad hunched over the board, his brow furrowed in concentration, and Nova's holographic form flickering across from him, her face lit with playful amusement.
"Careful there," Nova teased, her voice laced with lighthearted mockery. "That knight's not just for decoration, you know. You might want to think about where you're moving it."
Black's dad grunted, his eyes narrowing as he studied the board. He didn't respond to Nova's teasing, but Joey could see the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was determined, even if Nova was making the game as theatrical as possible.
Joey couldn't help but grin as he stepped closer to the board. The room suddenly filled with tense, dramatic music—the kind of soundtrack you'd hear in the final showdown of a movie.
"Really, Nova?" Joey asked, crossing his arms as he stood behind Black's dad. "Tense music? You trying to make him sweat?"
Nova flicked her gaze toward Joey, her grin widening. "Of course. Every good chess match needs a dramatic score. It's for ambiance."
Black's dad rolled his eyes, but Joey could tell he was enjoying the challenge. "You think a little music is going to throw me off?" he grumbled, finally moving his knight with a sharp clack of the piece. "I've played in parks where people were yelling in my ear. This is nothing."
Nova raised an eyebrow, her expression exaggerated with mock seriousness. "Oh, bold move," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as though narrating for an audience. "He's really going for it now. Let's see if it pays off."
With the flick of her wrist, Nova moved her rook into position, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Check."
Black's dad narrowed his eyes at the board, the music swelling in the background as the tension built. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You think you've got me, don't you?" he muttered, his tone filled with challenge.
"I know I've got you," Nova replied, her smile widening as she leaned forward, clearly enjoying the game far too much.
The dramatic music suddenly faded into the background, replaced by a soft ticking noise, like a countdown. Black's dad shifted in his seat, his fingers hovering over a piece as he contemplated his next move.
Joey chuckled, leaning against the doorway. "She's ruthless, you know that, right?"
Black's dad shot him a quick glance, smirking. "She may have her fancy algorithms, but I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Nova let out a mock gasp. "Oh, please! You've used every trick you've got, old man. I'm three moves ahead of you."
Black's dad smirked, finally moving his queen into position. "Oh, we'll see about that."
The music swelled again, this time with an ominous tone, as Nova's eyes flicked over the board. For a brief moment, she stayed silent, her holographic form still as if processing the move.
Joey raised an eyebrow. "Uh oh. I think you've got her thinking."
"Not for long," Nova quipped, her grin returning as she slid her bishop across the board. "And... checkmate."
The music came to a triumphant crescendo as she leaned back, clearly proud of herself. "Another victory for the reigning champion."
Black's dad stared at the board for a long moment, then let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "Damn it. I was close that time."
"Close?" Nova raised an eyebrow, her voice filled with playful disbelief. "That's generous. I had you cornered four moves ago."
Black's dad grumbled under his breath, though the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his enjoyment. "Next time, I'm going to have you."
Nova smiled smugly, crossing her arms. "You say that every time, and yet here we are. Another win for Nova."
Joey shook his head, grinning as he pushed off the doorway. "You two should have your own TV show. This is too good."
Black's dad leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, well, maybe next time I'll be the one with the dramatic music backing me up. That's got to count for something."
"I can arrange that," Nova replied, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "But it won't save you."
The room filled with laughter, and for a moment, Joey could feel the tension of the world outside melt away. Here, in this little home, surrounded by the people Black loved most, there was warmth, comfort, and a sense of belonging that he hadn't realized he needed. Even if it was just for a while.
As the music faded away and the playful banter continued, Joey found himself smiling, feeling a little more whole.
As the laughter in the room finally died down, Joey glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, and though he wished he could stay longer, he knew they had to call it a night. Nova, sensing the shift, looked toward him, her holographic form flickering with a soft glow.
"Well," Joey said, pushing himself up from the chair, "it's about time we head out."
Black's dad gave a mock sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair. "You're sparing me from another round, huh?"
Nova smirked. "For now. You've earned a break. But next week? Same time, same place."
Black's dad grinned, a challenge already in his eyes. "You're on."
Joey turned to Black's mom, who had been quietly watching their banter with a warm smile on her face. He could see the tiredness behind her eyes, though she did her best to hide it.
"Thank you for everything," Joey said, his voice soft. "It's always good to be here."
She stood and pulled him into a gentle hug, the warmth of her embrace filling him with a sense of peace. "It's good to have you, Joey. And you know you're always welcome."
As they pulled apart, she walked over to the counter and grabbed a small box, wrapped in a cloth. "Here," she said, pressing it into Joey's hands. "Take this home. I made an extra pie for you and Nova."
Joey blinked, feeling a grin spread across his face. "You didn't have to—"
"Nonsense," she interrupted, waving her hand. "You two need something sweet. Besides, it's Nova's favorite."
At the mention of her name, Nova's holographic form perked up, her eyes widening in mock excitement. "Did someone say pie?"
Joey chuckled, shaking his head as he accepted the box. "She can't even taste it."
"I can't," Nova admitted, her holographic hands clasped together, "but I can feel the dopamine spike in Joey's brain when he tastes it. And honestly, that's good enough for me."
Black's mom laughed softly, shaking her head. "Well, I'm glad I can contribute to that."
With a final round of goodbyes, Joey and Nova made their way to the door. The warmth of the evening air greeted them as they stepped onto the terrace. The stars above twinkled against the night sky, casting a soft glow over the quiet neighborhood. Joey took a deep breath, letting the peace of the night settle over him.
"We'll see you next week," Joey promised, turning back to Black's parents. "Same time."
Black's mom smiled warmly. "We'll be here."
"And I'll be ready for a rematch," Black's dad added, a glint of determination in his eyes.
Nova smirked. "Good luck with that. You'll need it."
Joey gave them one last wave before heading down the path with Nova. The weight of the day felt lighter now, the warmth of Black's family and the comfort of their home lingering in his mind.
As they walked, Nova's voice filled his thoughts, light and playful. "I can't wait for that pie. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to feeling your reaction to it."
Joey grinned, glancing at the box in his hands. "I bet it'll be the highlight of the night."
"Absolutely," Nova replied. "I can't taste it, but the dopamine spike in your brain when you do? That's the good stuff."
Joey chuckled, picking up the pace. "You're going to be wired if it's as good as I'm expecting."
"Let's hope it is. Now hurry up. That pie's not going to eat itself."
Joey laughed, his steps quickening as they disappeared into the quiet night, the comfort of home and the promise of next week carrying them forward.