Open to the wide-open vacuum of space; stars glimmer in the all-encompassing blackness and earth is silhouetted against the sun at the shot’s center.

Scott can be heard speaking over the scene’s events as a massive cloaked figure can be seen to rise from behind the solar body. Few if any of its features can be made out; it is dwarfed by the sun it hovers over but is still huge in its own right.

SCOTT: When I die–

The sun’s surface bubbles, sending out solar flare after solar flare in every direction before exploding in a supernova. Far away in the background, the stars can be seen to either combust wildly or wink out of existence altogether.

SCOTT: I want the world to go with me. I don’t want anyone living while I’m gone.

The supernova consumes the earth, and we see as its blackened form disintegrates; the figure is still hovering above where the sun once was, completely unharmed.

Solar bodies continue to rupture in the background.

Scott awakes with a jolt in his basement. He’d been sat at the table he’d before used for welding, and as he raised his head from its flat, hard resting spot he’d nearly bashed it against a humanoid figure standing across from him.

Looking up at it, Scott sees a nearly completed Mk 1 suit. The chestpiece is reminiscent of a hockey player’s pads, though in place of foam it has the same sort of plating and black mesh that is present on the gauntlets, leggings and biker-style helmet. Every one of the plates has a subtle purplish tint to it, and the power-bricks are still present on the suit’s forearms.

Ramsay begins to yell at the armed guard to his side, pressed up against the observing room’s airlock-exit.

DR. RAMSAY: Get more security in here! As many heavy-armed as possible! And get this door opened!

HEAVY DUTY GUARD: I’ve tried, but it’s set to hard-lock on a breach! That, and the others’ll take too long to gear up and get here.

One of Colossus’ arms shoots through an already-compromised section of the window, grabbing around blindly. Reflected at odd angles within the arm, kaleidoscope-like, are Zain’s bloodshot eyes.

HEAVY DUTY GUARD: Don’t worry, though, Doc. This is what I’ve been trained for.

The guard steps forward, removing the heavy automatic rifle from his back. He levels it at the quickly disappearing barrier of glass with one arm, further supported by a strap going from the gun’s center to his shoulder. In his other hand is a long belt of bullets he lifts from a large pack on his hip, feeding it into the gun with a metallic “CRACK!”.

HEAVY DUTY GUARD: Cease and desist! This is your only warning!

His voice is barely audible over Colossus’ renewed, warped screeching.

Ramsay places his hand on the guard’s shoulder.

DR. RAMSAY: Remember, there’s a kid in there!

HEAVY DUTY GUARD: Oh, I’ve read his file, he’s practically an adult. Cover your ears!

The guard steps in front of Ramsay as Colossus drives its head into what remains of the bulletproof window, sending it and the jagged crystal caking it flying everywhere.

Before it can begin to clamber through into the room, however, the guard yells and the rifle’s barrel ignites.

Change scene to Wenji and Angosin, walking steadily through the woods. Near to their right is a road that cuts through the trees. Wenji is walking in front; she has a map in her hands, and perched on her shoulder is the small black-capped chickadee. Responding to a sideways glance toward it, the plump avian raises a wing forward and to the right. At this, Angosin leans closer.

ANGOSIN: Just how is it you’re navigating?

WENJI: This bird has been to the mountains before, they’re directing us. Once we get there, I’ll have a seagull lead us to the bu–

Two cars pass by to their right, on the road. Wenji is obviously aggravated by the noise they produce.

WENJI: Ugh, how do you people tolerate these things? They’re so damn loud!

ANGOSIN: We won’t have to deal with them at all if we take a different route.

WENJI: No, this is the fastest route! I must get to my father as fast as possible!

A flock of seagulls passes overhead, each among it “cawing” loudly. Angosin looks from this conglomeration of birds to Wenji’s face, bending forward to see that her eyes have assumed their avian aspect.

A smile creeps across Angosin’s face.

ANGOSIN: We’re trying to get there as fast as possible, really? Why didn’t you just say so?

Angosin turns to look away from Wenji. A shot of his face shows it to go largely limp, and his eyes to lose their focus completely.

After a moment of Wenji looking at him perplexed, he reaches a hand back towards her, not turning.

ANGOSIN: Have you got anything sharp on you? I need a blade for a second.

Wenji does not respond. Her hand goes back, instinctively, to feel at a large side-pocket of her backpack. There, poorly hidden as its handle nearly pokes out, is a machete. Wenji’s hawk-like eyes are fixed on Angosin, indecision obvious in her expression.

WENJI: (aside) This will be the real test. I don’t know him, and my father never mentioned him, yet he seems to have known him. 

Angosin turns around to look at her, his hand still outstretched.

ANGOSIN: Hello, Wenji? Do you not trust me yet?

Angosin tilts his head to the side, disappointment in his tone.

Wenji’s face hardens. Her hand comes closer to the machete’s handle. Birds circle overhead her and Angosin.

WENJI: (aside) When I was young, my father took me away from anywhere I may have made friends. As I grew up, the only ones I had were him, Ookomisan and some animals. He kept it this way, saying it was for my own good. That when the time came, I might make the cruel, outside world my own. That new life has started now, and the first great choice it has brought me is this: do I trust this person, and make a friend, despite the risk? Do I let him in?

Wenji’s hand closes around the machete’s handle. The cries of the birds above reveals them to be crows.