3:12 AM, the halls were quiet, it was a few days after the ichor operation finally came to a halt, leaving just a mess to clean up.

Sprout wasn't sure what to think anymore, really. He wasn't the toon he used to be, even after he had been cured and most of the ichor covering his body had been washed away.

He still couldn't speak, sometimes it hurt to even breathe too deeply, and the claw on his left arm made doing things alot more difficult.

Perhaps that was why he was here, looking up at the stars through the glass roof, just wanting to get his mind off things, to calm down and not be so worried about everyone.

There was no danger anymore.