After a short jingle from a popular brand of beer, a girl started to speak in a tone that greatly contrasted with the cheerful melody of the previous advertising. "If you remember a future with wild Amazons, a bar inside a Zeppelin, an arena where brave men fought for some food or just an entire city reduced to a handful of people..." She stopped talking for a couple of seconds, letting the words disappear completely and then she continued. "... I invite you to a party at my shelter in exactly a week from now. 7pm. You know where it is."
The voice died away slowly giving way to silence once again, only this time it lasted a little longer. The announcer, clearly surprised by the creepy promotion, shuffled papers on his desk until he achieved to focus enough to continue. "Well, those were the words of an anonymous sponsor." Silence. Someone whispered at the announcer then he repeated what they told him. "Please stop calling, we really have no more information than the few words given in the recording."

A copy of the message started to circulate in other radio stations while an adaptation of the same message managed to enter several major magazines and newspapers. The final touches of those invitations were the graffiti that from that day adorned various walls of the city. The references to the dream varied from message to message but all of them agreed on the same: there was going to be a party in her bunker.

One week later...

The first guests arrived before the party officially started, but Celeste was in such a good mood for confirming that more people lived that wicked dream that she decided to start the party a little early to welcome the small group properly by giving them a small tour around the place. The mansion was virtually empty but the orderly chaos produced by all the employees coming and going made the place seem really alive.

The main gates were guarded by two human guards that had orders to question the guests before letting them inside. For the guards, it was just another security measure but for Celeste it was a way to determine how much of that dream was real or shared. Oreven to find some clue as to how it happened.
Apart from the questions, they must kindly ask them to not fight. The rule seemed a bit stupid but taking into account the different "factions" that could attend to the party, it was not a bad idea to clarify that the mansion was neutral territory from the start to the end of the reunion. Also, just in case they did not understand that rule, or in case the open bar could cloud their judgment, she had hired Venus and his brothers to be her bodyguard. After all, the girl did not know anyone stronger and bigger than them.

Since all the people in the future knew her powers because of the painting of certain Zeppelin for Katrina's birthday, Celeste chose to display her abilities once again. Her comfortable sundress was painted with ivory and accompanied by silver sandals. It was simple but very confortable and with that outfit, everyone will recognize her despite she was three years younger than in the dream.

Isabel had woken with a start, the sheet tangled around her legs and torso sending her into panicked flailing before wakefulness finally settled and she realized she was in bed in her room, safe and sound. Slowly, shakily she unwound the hole-ridden sheet from her body, dropping the heavier comforter on the floor as she did so. It was much too hot in her room. At least it felt that way. She was sweating and her breathing was somewhat erratic, as if she'd just run a mile. Dreaming about dying tended to do that to people.

Heaving a sigh she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and dropped her head into her hands. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to slow her heart rate and relax. It was just a bad dream even if it felt very real. She had bad dreams all the time, she should be used to it by now. But then she didn't usually die in her dreams. Or befriend people like Maxine. That witch.

Nor did she ever flounce around in outfits like that.

And she 'liked her men'... what?

She glanced over at the space on the floor that Mercury normally occupied on the nights that he stayed with her. She really, really hoped that she didn't talk in her sleep.

She didn't run into any trouble the following morning, nor did anyone make any mention of potential sleep talking so she figured she was in the clear. Venus would never let her live it down if the absurdities her sleeping mind concocted got back to him.

She had very nearly forgotten about the absurd dream when the advertisements started. Her heart nearly stopped the first time she heard the announcement, the word 'Amazons'. It had just been a dream. How could someone else possibly know anything about it? Maybe she was just hearing things. Maybe that dream had rattled her a little more than she'd thought.

But then the advertisements got more aggressive. They were slipped into magazines, news stations, painted on city walls. There was no way she could ignore them and pretend like she was just hearing things anymore. She remembered a bunker. She remembered Celeste, even if Maxine had been the one to deal with the younger girl more extensively than the other Amazons.

She'd decided she might as well attend the party, if for no other reason than to meet up with Celeste and figure out exactly what was going on. From the sound of the numerous announcements, the blond was anticipating a bit of a crowd.

What to wear to the event wasn't even up for debate. She would be going in her normal attire. A simple white button up, loose fitting pants and her boots. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing what her dream self had thrown together. It was just too mortifying.

She got past the guards posted out front without much trouble. It was hard to forget any details they were quizzing visitors on. Once inside, however, she didn't immediately seek out the hostess. She was going to find a corner to fit herself into in order to wait and watch the party's events. She wanted to see what the hell was going on before she decided either to leave or to participate.

Donovan woke grogily the day the anouncement had been circulated in the newspaper he used. Largely he ignored the nightmare since he had awoken. He remembered a lot of trying to survive, training his body for three years, but then being sent to an arena to fight for his life.

As the man stood up from his bed he walked across the small apartment that he currently inhabited. Picking up a piece of pizza from his table that he ordered last night. While Donovan ate the slice he had picked up, he walked out of the front door and quickly retrieved his newspaper.

McCalaghan took a seat on his framed futon, setting it into the couch position before doing so, he leafed through the paper while continuing to eat his less-than fresh breakfast. Eventually the mutant found an article that intrigued him, it mentioned some of the things that had occured in his seemingly three year dream. It mentioned some type of get-together for the people who could recall these happenings.

"Hmmm.... This might be worth looking into." The man said to himself as he got up to go about his day.


The Next Week

As Donovan strode into the mansion, having finished his brief quiz with the guards. He then began his serach for whoever was running this thing, he shifted into his steel form seeing that he had already displayed all of what he could do in an arena filled with who-knows how many people. As such his secret was probably out anyway.

The man wore fairly casual clothing, his trench coat worn over a bright-green vest, along with a very typical of Donovan pair of Cargo pants, pockets full of assorted bits and pieces from instruments and busted writing utensils. Slung over his shoulder was a guitar case, though it held his notebooks and other school things in addition to his guitar.

Even like this Donovan felt he had dressed up quite a bit for the occasion. Promptly he began looking around for someone who would know what was going on here.

Sarah had woken up after her strange dream with not real memories of it. However, as the days passed, she began painting people she didn't know. I blonde girl that seemed a few years younger, a man who didn't always look like a male, and other people she knew she had never met. As the paintings were finished, small flashes of memories appeared. She slowly remembered the names of the people she befriended. The mutants she got to know.

While painting a picture of the place she had stayed during most of her dream, a strange advertisement caught her attention. She froze as she listened to the slightly vague information. The voice, though a little younger, was that of someone Sarah knew she could trust. With her mind made up, she decided to go to the party, if she could remember where exactly the Bunker had been.

-One week later-

The brunette had pulled her hair back in her usual braid and wore a cream button up and a pair of black slacks for the party, not knowing what to expect. She had found the place easily enough once she focused on remembering, though some things still excaped her. The questions asked by the guards were slightly difficult, but she answered most of them. When she entered the mansion, Sarah quickly looked around for anyone she recognized, but she soon realized that she had arrived a little early. Instead of standing around, she found a place to sit and waited.

It was a bad idea. She would just turn around, and—

She was an Amazon. An Amazon Queen. Amazons didn't just run away, tails between their legs; not if they wanted something. Why would they?

Oh, right. Because she wasn't an Amazon Queen. She was just the person that everyone remembered as the Amazon Queen. The person getting funny looks on the streets from people she hadn't ever met.

...Though she did remember roughing a few of them up.

Maxine was a block from Celeste's bunker, leaning against a neighborhood fence, chewing her bottom lip. She'd gone with white: a knee length white halter dress. Very Marilyn Monroe. It seemed like the way to go. Her usual preference for parties was red—it was her color. Really, though, it didn't seem like the statement she was going for in this crowd. ("Red, boys and girls: the color of your blood, on me. Remember that? You squirmed so cute.") Black was a girl's usual fallback, if red was a no go, but it just wasn't the image she was going for tonight. ("Black. You know, like my soul?") So white it was; white like a fresh slate, like I'm-not-that-girl, like please-don't-hurt-me.

This was a bad idea.

She wasn't an Amazon. She certainly wasn't a Queen. She wasn't even sure that her girls would be on her side, if they saw her now. Isabel? Oh yeah, real big fan of hers, back in the present time. And what did she have to defend herself with? A box of paperclips in her purse and a can of mace? Her paper dogs didn't exist yet, and she'd left Rex at home—somehow, letting loose an uncontrollable paperclip octopus in a room where tensions might be high had seemed like a bad idea. Worse than showing her face here in the first place.

She would just turn around, go back down the steps, and take the next train. That's what she would do. She wasn't an Amazon.

She was Maxine Ralls.

And damn it, she wasn't going to live in fear of bumping into complete strangers on the street. She was going to get this over with, and do it in style.

Her heels clicked assertively on the concrete, all the way up to the door of Celeste's home. So that's what it had looked like, before. Swaggy place. There were guards and pop quizzes and everything.

"Really, boys? You're questioning me?" The once and future Queen said, putting on a look half remembered from a dream.

The doors were opened, and a redhead in a white dress walked in like she owned the place. First things first: she spotted their hostess for the evening, and strode over.

"Celeste, darling," Maxine said, presenting a pink shoebox with a bow on top. "I know they're not nearly as hard to come by these days, but it didn't seem right to stop buy without bringing you a little something."

Inside the box was a pair of Prada heels. They might be a little big, though.

God, Celeste was young.

Miles ignored the first few times he heard the radio announcements, deeming it impossible or some kind of major coincidence, but then he started seeing them more often, in a magazine at the barber shop and painted on walls, mentioning things that had happened only in a dream. There was no way the fuzzy bits and pieces of nightmare he still had roaming around his head had been known or experienced by anyone else, right?

And yet... why were so many faces so familiar nowadays? He hadn't met that many people in Sanctuary per se, but some of the faces there were... known and not like they were strangers anymore. He knew the big red guys were called after planets now and he had never asked that before or met them yet. How come? Why did he feel like he knew strangers in a deja vu sort of sense nowadays? Why did he feel an awkward shiver whenever he saw a redhead?

The most curious thing was the address detail. The ads didn't give any and yet... he did have a feeling where this 'shelter' was located as if he had traded there a few times himself.

He was intent on ignoring the whole thing, but the mystery was too much for his curiosity to let it go. When the day of the party finally came, Miles found himself breaking some of his habits. He usually didn't give much of a damn on what he wore, but this time he washed and ironed his clothes as if going in dirty or disheveled brought him bad memories. And his shoes... why was it so important that they match? It was downright obvious that they had to.

A clean, thrall-less Miles wearing his best burgundy t-shirt, sneakers and jeans, with not a hair on his face but a pimple just starting to show itself on his right cheek made an appearance at where Celeste's bunker used to be. That was her name, right? He sort of remembered because it meant 'light blue' in spanish. He was sweating a little, wondering what he might find in there and thinking it was silly to worry about that. It's not like he had done anything stupid or ridiculous in the dream, he thought as he tucked his thumbs in the waist of his pants, waiting for the two guys at the entrance to talk to him.

"Did you have a dream where you remember a future where the apocalypse happened?" asked one of the guys in a bored voice with a clipboard and pen on his hand.

"I remember a bunch of girls wearing skimpy get ups" Miles replied and the guy didn't even raise an eyebrow (with that comment coming from a fifteen year old) nor did he write anything on the clipboard. "And the Apocalypse, yes. This place here was a freaking bunker."

That made the man tack a check mark on his clipboard, ask him a couple more questions and then let him through.

The place was downright fancy. He didn't remember that many details from the nightmare except glimpses and pieces that flashed by his eyes from time to time. Was it possible that other people shared that nightmare? That everyone here dreamt the same thing? Celeste should have gone post-apocalyptic on the decor to jag some of his memories loose.

With each new guest that answered correctly, she gained new data and evidence to support her theory that the dream had been shared with other people. That not only meant that she was not crazy, but also that every "character" that had interacted with her during that period must be a real persons, and not a creation of her imagination as logic suggested.
Even if the data she was collecting with the survey was false or had been modified in some way, every person at the party was living proof that they had been victims of an extraordinary event that had sent their minds to that horrible dream.

While the guests were still few, she could already see several people she remembered well from the dream, the Amazon Isabel that stood in the corner looking for a prey or Sarah who had lived with her for a long time and had become her friend and confident... of course there were other people she vaguely remembered but clearly, they all were there to look for the some answers.

To wake up from that ruined world had been the second most traumatic event in her short life, and not even the death of her whole family or the attack on New York with nuclear missiles could surpass the fact that even after several weeks her brain keep thinking she was seventeen and living inside a bunker. It was as if her reality had been contaminated with the experiences of that future dream to the point where both worlds become confused and blurry. Sometimes she do not know who was dead and who was not, and some times she even forgot that her father was still alive in another continent, busy as ever in his profitable company, sometimes she even ran into the kitchen expecting to find Sarah, her cook or even Slate... but no one was there... but now, she was sure that the people she missed were real. She was not crazy.

In the other hand, Celeste was sure that if she could get enough information from different perspectives, it would be easier for her to discover who or how that shared dream started but more importantly... Was it a prophetic dream? If yes, was there a way to stop it?
While she continue analyzing these questions and formulating new ones, the familiar voice of the leader of the Amazons brought her back to reality.
"Maxine!" She replied excited while trying to containing her desire to hug her. It was really hard to be fourteen once again. Then she saw the box. "It was not necessary..." She affirmed with feigned humility while she restrained herself again to not tear the bow that hid her new shoes. At that very moment, she an acid glare to one of her employees, who immediately disappeared into a crowd of waiters.
Meanwhile, Celeste took the box from her hands carefully while displaying a radiant smile. It was an expression that she had rarely used during the apocalypse.
"It was all real, right?" Maxine probably knew the same or less than her but she could not help but pronounced that question aloud.

While Celeste continued giving smiles to the queen she had so admired so much, an employee carrying two packages approached them. "I also have shoes for you." She said with a strange sense of déjà vu. "And something for Rex too." Italian shoes for Maxine, a strange stuffed octopus for Rex.

Aurion stopped a hundred feet or so from the gate. He wondered why he was even there. What was the point of going to this party? He already knew it had been real. Well, real enough. He didn't need to have that confirmed by anyone else. Even though he was sure there was no reason for him to join the party, he couldn't help feel drawn to it, like he had to go. Was it his subconscious directing him or something else beyond his control?

'Does it really matter?' He thought to himself. Sighing, "No, it doesn't."

Aurion closed the distance to the gate, a small limp in his stride. Otis had taken care of the worst injuries he had had inflicted on himself. Though, he didn't allow Otis to finish the job so he still had a slight limp, some broken and missing teeth, cracked and dented bone plating. Not to mention one eye was still slightly swollen, though he could see out of it, and he had a few broken claws on his fingers. Probably the most annoying thing though, was his bent and torn fin. If he let himself heal naturally it would heal crooked, which wouldn't be good. He could always fix that by removing that part of his tail. He'd done that once before, during a winter a couple years past. Frostbite was not something to play with.

Aurion was adjusting his belt so it sat more comfortably over his pants when the guards stopped him from passing the gate. Aurion slowly turned his head to look at the man. Realizing that couched like he was, the guard was taller than he was, Aurion raised up to his full height and looked down at the man. "Excuse you." To the man's credit, he didn't react in any way but to give Aurion the same lines he gave to everyone else. Reluctantly Aurion answered the questions. He thought it was a little stupid since only those who had had the dream would be familiar with the place.

Finally the large mutant made his way into the building clad only in his new pants, courtesy of Gina, a belt, and sans beard. The party Celeste was throwing was the first such event Aurion had ever been to, as such, he felt a little out of place and more than a little lost. He was taller than most people, so he could easily see just about everything around him. So far there weren't many people that he recognized.

Aurion moved away from the entrance, mostly so he wouldn't be in the way, but also so he wouldn't look as lost as he felt, hopefully. Someone was walking by with a tray of glasses. "Uhh...Excuse me." There was no reason to be rude, as far as he knew everyone in the building was a mutant, and if the person with the tray was human, it was where it belonged, serving its betters. The man stopped and looked at Aurion, his face seemed like he was waiting for Aurion to do something. After a long enough moment Aurion opened his mouth to dismiss the man when he was handed a glass. "Thanks." He said a little sheepishly. "Sir." Then the man continued his rounds.

Looking around Aurion noticed other people with glasses as well, they were all sipping the drink. He didn't bother smelling it, he would never have been able to smell the alcohol in it, instead he put the glass to his lips and drank. It tasted like everything else he drank, like nothing.

'Not necessary,' her white-clad rear. This was Celeste's house. It might be a little bigger than she remembered—a little more well carpeted and catered, more spacious and better manned—but it was still Celeste's. Who had ever come to Celeste's home empty-handed?

And as a girl gave, so she would receive:

"I don't know what real is," she said. "I know it happened; I know everyone who was there seems to remember something. But it's not... it won't really happen. There have been shared dreams like this before; the last one didn't really happen." By the end of that statement, she was talking with all the confidence of a queen, or of a reporter. There really wasn't much difference between the two.

"Are these Forzieri?" She squealed, unable to resist just a little peep under the lid of her gift. "God, I haven't seen a pair of these in—"

In years? No, since last week, when she was at the mall.

The apocalypse might not have been real, but it had happened.

"Ha!" She laughed, when she'd peeked in on Rex's gift. "I think you just found the world's first octopus sweater." It was like a sweater for one of those annoying little dogs, but so much more terrifying to see crawling over the sidewalk towards you.

She hugged the girl. "Thank you, Celeste. It's good to see you."

So far, so good at this party. Isabel hadn't yet stabbed her yet; since she knew from experience just how well the bonemancer could aim her knives, that must mean that at least for now, they were putting aside their present differences. Somewhat. Maybe she shouldn't test this theory, without back up. Was Allison here yet? Or Katrina, or Kaitlyn, Kate—hold up, how many K-names had been in the Amazons, anyway? It really did sound like a dream.

...Had the giant lizard been in it? Wow. Well all right, then. Her eyes kept scanning the thin crowd, looking for others she recog—

Haaaaa. Was that...? He was shorter; more well dressed, but with the same scruffy hair. She couldn't tell from here, but she was reasonably certain his shoes matched now, as well. No dogs, no grime, no gun, but still: there was something in that boyish walk that called to her, even from across the room. That said, 'easy mark, come and take me.'

"Miles!" The redhead shouted, lifting up a hand to beckon him over towards her and Celeste.

Miles came to Celeste's home empty-handed.

Maybe he should have brought something... to the girl he wasn't sure existed but he had fuzzy dream glimpses about? Surely, as a student without a job, he could have afforded something she liked?

There were a bunch of people he had never seen and some he remembered because he'd met them before the dream, like Aurion over there. Who in his right mind thought it was a good idea to give a clawed, reptilian giant alcohol? Miles seriously considered keeping his distance and started looking around for others who might jog his memories loose a bit. For some reason, it was like his brain had stashed all the meat and potatoes from the dream into a chest under lock and key and left him only with the scraps, fending for himself to piece it all back together...

>> "Miles!"

The teenager turned around at the mention of his name. He didn't see anyone he recognized immediately and it wasn't until he saw the hand lifted up that he noticed the redhead in a white dress who was calling him. Miles squinted his eyes, focusing on her face and just ONE thought crossed his head...

Who the hell is this woman and why does she know my name?

He turned his head back, just to make sure there weren't other 'Mileses' behind him, then back again looking at the woman who called him. He put his hand on his chest and anyone could read his lips when he voicelessly asked "Me?"

Ohmygodwhoisshewhoisshewhoisshe?

Her white dress was very Marilyn Monroe and it was a shame Celeste didn't seem to have any floor vents around. There was something familiar about her, he could feel it, but what? Why was he getting this deja vu vibe and completely failing to make it click? Maybe he met her in the dream, but what could a sweetheart like her possibly have done that his brain would want to forget everything about her?

This puzzled him. He was very aware she was older than him but dreams don't give a crap about that, so who knows? Maybe they had married in the dream and had eleven children together. Maybe he didn't remember her because... she had cheated on him and he wanted to forget all about her. Maybe that's why he remembered all the scantily clad women, from drinking his sorrows away at some post-apocalyptic strip club...

Time to find out. The boy stretched his shirt a little and started walking confidently towards the redhead and her blond friend, who was much closer to him in age. He waved his hand at both as he approached them.

"Hey... you" he greeted. "Long time no see..."

Who the hell are you, woman!?

Sarah wasn't too sure why she stayed where she was. She really only had one thing in common with the people around her and that was the dream. She could barely remember the dream anyways. She stayed though. She looked around and spotted the two females exchanging gifts. The blonde was easy to know. Celeste hadn't changed too much. The other woman, the redhead, took her a moment.

'I think that's one of the Amazons... but which one? By their interaction, I'd say Queen Maxine.'[/i] Sarah hadn't really met the Amazon Queen, but she had heard of her at the table.

Thinking that she might as well go see how the only familiar face was, the brunette rose to go talk to Celeste. As she walked, she pulled a small painting out of her purse. It was only small because she had made many. Over her time remembering the dream, Sarah had been painting small portraits of those she knew. When deciding to come to the party, she decided to bring a few.

"Hello, Celeste," Sarah greeted when she was close to the blonde. "Have you been eating right?" There was a slight tease to her voice.

The two had bonded well in the dream, so Sarah didn't feel that a formality was really needed. The two were alright friends in the dream and the brunette hoped to continue their friendship in some way.

Maxine´s words were a revelation. Not only she found that the future she witnessed “happened” to more people but she also discovered that there was another shared dream in the past. A different future that never became true. That was the ray of hope she was looking for since she woke up from the dream, with that sentence her fellow queen confirmed what she needed to know, that the future can be changed and was not going to happen again. One apocalypse is enough.
But at the same time her words created so many questions… who was behind the first shared dream? Could it be that the same person was responsible for the second dream too?
Clearly she needed to investigate a little more about that previous “future”… later, now she was at a party with people she missed so much during the time she needed to plan that gathering.
Celeste nodded politely at Maxine´s revelation while trying hard to not reveal how much her words affected her.

It was not easy to maintain her curiosity at bay but soon the conversation moved toward the gorgeous gifts she gave to the other queen. Italian shoes were her favorites since pretty much every shoe from that marvelous country was as close as perfection as a shoe can be. Not to mention, she had Italian blood in her veins… that put her the closest to perfection a human can be, right?
It was a shame Rex was not there to thank her in person for its gift but at least she do not have to stare at his weird physiology during the party. With that “costume” he would not need to be naked in her presence again.

The Celeste from the present would not allow a hug such as the one Maxine gave her, even if it was a display of affection between two friends divided for a long time… fortunately Celeste learned a few things from the time she spent in the bunker and the bonds she created there, so she gladly hugged Maxine back with all her might.
She was so happy to be surrounded by these people that shared that cruel dream with her that she did not even care about the giant lizard walking around. Of course, Venus was as good a deterrent as a nuclear bomb so if something went wrong, the red brothers would have to get their hands dirty. It was not something she was hoping for… but she was glad to count on them for body-guarding duties.

Was Miles the slave Maxine promised to her? She could not remember his name properly… what should she care to learn the name of a slave in the first place? Fortunately before Celeste could start plotting to bring slaves back to servitude, a very familiar voice dragged her back to reality. Could it be…? She turned around toward the place where the voice came from, her ivory dress dancing with her, it was her! Following Maxine´s example, Celeste moved toward Sarah to welcome her with a big hug. “Sarah!” Oh god, she missed Sarah so much. She was like a big sister to her… even when she put poor Sarah to cook for the four of them.
“Of course I am.” She said in a cheerfully manner, keeping the second part for herself. “I am rich.” Proof that she was eating right was that her skin was even more beautiful than before and since the outside world was not polluted with radiation, she was going to the park often to maintain her natural skin color, contrary to the sickly pale tone she wore during the dream.
“I missed you!” She exclaimed while still hugging her. It was so good to see her again that the queen even forget about the promised slave. Of course, she missed the people she met “there” but she did not notice how much until she met Sarah again.

Though the answer was obvious by the amount of wealth around them, Sarah was glad Celeste answered truthfully. It felt good to hold the younger girl in her arms. The young blonde was a friend and Sarah was glad she was doing well.

>>“I missed you!”

The announcement was awarded with a warm smile and a tighter hug. "I missed you too," the brunette stated softly.

The words were more true than anything she felt about waking from the dream. Sarah missed all of the connections she made in the strange world they had met in. There were people there that meant the world to her. In this reality, she didn't know a thing about them. The thoughts brought a question to her mind.

"Have you seen the others yet?" she asked, hoping Celeste would know she meant the others from the bunker.

It would be a great thing to gather all of them at some later date. If anything they were another family. To Sarah it would be amazing to at least have everyone together for at least one time after the dream.

The main goal of the party was to throw some light in the matter of the wicked collective dream she experienced but she also orchestrated it to meet one more time with the people she learned to love and respect during the apocalypses. It was funny how she was unable to make friends during the current time but managed to do some real bonding when the world was at its worst… maybe that dream was a way for her to learn these things, to experience friendship. Could it be possible that someone created that dream for her? It was farfetched but how much more unbelievable things could be? It was a shared vision of the future… things could not be more farfetched.

There she was, inside a mansion the family never used, surrounded by strangers but happy all the same, happier than she had been in years and why? Just because Maxine and Sarah were there and that means they were real.
She admired Maxine because she did what it needed to be done in order to survive. She loved Sarah because of all the good and bad moments they shared together that in turn helped them create a very strong bond. In retrospective, the time they shared in the bunker was like a very bad sitcom but at that time it was what they all needed.

She returned to the real world in time to heard Sarah´s reply. She had missed her too. It was not a surprise, how can she not miss her? But even then that little confession brought a wide smile to her lips.
“Not yet.” She replied with a heavy heart. Celeste was hoping to meet them there but apparently they missed the signs or they chose to ignore them. Katrina and Slate were valuable resources that with time became very close acquaintances with her, same with Juka. Where were they? She would not admit it openly but she missed each of them. Hell, she even missed the confined space of her bunker and the constant humming of the machinery.

Since they did not show up for the party, she could not be sure if they wanted to be found or not but other people´s feelings never stopped her from doing whatever she wanted so she was going to storm into the mansion and ask questions around. It was not the wisest plan but it was the only way she could come up for gathering the old crew again.
“I am going to the mutant mansion tomorrow. Maybe I can find them there.” Her voice was full of confidence but her eyes kept pleading for support, she did not want to be alone in that quest. She did not say it.