It had been the worst year of your life.

You couldn’t sleep. You barely ate. Breathing itself felt like a burden. You’d pushed everyone away, even though deep down, you knew they were just trying to help. But how could anyone fix something so broken?

JJ was gone. Your boyfriend—your best friend—had died in your arms, stabbed by the man who was supposed to be his father. He’d died saving you. And when he left, it felt like he took the last piece of you with him.

You spiraled. Dark thoughts crept in on the nights when the silence was too loud. JJ had been your reason to live—so what was the point now?

Luckily, the Pogues kept you going. Barely.

The world didn’t slow down. Sarah was pregnant. Groff had taken the Blue Crown—the ancient artifact said to hold one wish, one impossible miracle—and now, he was dead. Killed by your own hands.

Revenge had never felt so good.

You stood in the aftermath of it all, clutching the Crown with trembling hands. Wind howled through the broken alleyways of some quiet corner of Portugal. The blood on your palms wasn’t even dry yet.

But you didn’t care. Because maybe—just maybe—there was still hope.

You ran back to the Pogues, breathless and shaking. No one questioned it. Pope was already flipping through pages of ancient texts, trying to figure out how it worked.

You couldn’t focus. Your ears rang. All you could see was him.

Pope placed the crown gently on the ground. He started the ritual. You held your breath.

Nothing.

Silence.

Your heart shattered all over again.

Sarah pulled you into her arms, whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

And then—

The wind picked up. Fierce and furious. The sky cracked open, flooding the ruins with light. Thunder boomed above like the gods themselves were watching.

You all dropped to the ground, shielding your heads as the world shifted.

And then—

A blinding flash.

A single breath of silence.

And then that voice.

“Damn... never thought I’d see you idiots again.”