Beam. "It's no problem. My copy will be back in a few minutes."

Nova brightens again (his equivalent of a smile?). He doesn't, immediately, have anything else to say.

Glam always has stuff to say.

"So... how'd Maelstrom get you?"

Nova flinches slightly. "I- he...found me?"

"We don't have to talk about this if you'd rather we didn't," they hastily add.

There's an impression of a shrug. "Don't- don't mind? I just- don't know. Remember? Much- anything before that?"

"—oh." That's horrible. "So you don't have anywhere to—return to? Do you have anywhere you want to go?"

"Nowhere," he agrees. Thinks about the second question. "I- don't know. Only really...let out if He wanted me to...do something."

"...okay. So I have a couple of options and... I'm afraid they're the only really, uh, feasible ones."

"I- that's- that's fine? Whatever you think best?"

Nod. "So option one is living with me, at least until you get your feet under you—uh, pun unintended. Option two is getting help from the heroes."

"...heroes? I- He said they'd- l-lock me up. Because I'm- dangerous. ...but I don't want to- be an inconvenience? I- Whatever's easiest?"

"...what Maelstrom was doing was locking you up. The heroes would never do that, what they'd do is more or less what I'd do, try to figure out a way for you to interact with the world and be safe to be around and lead a good life."

"O-Oh." It doesn't sound exactly like he believes them, more like he's having a hard time wrapping his head around the concept. But... "...would be easier for you if I went to them?" (It still seems like he might be scared of the idea.)

They shake their head. "I'd probably still want to check on you and make sure you're okay. They have more resources than me, money and space and image and all that, you'd have a room for yourself, people specialised in helping with other parahumans who don't look like other humans. The catch is that they'll be more concerned with their and your image than anything else, and parahumans are not usually picked for liking each other.

"I don't have that kind of money. I have a small apartment. But I—I would like to think I'd care about you, individually, and you being happy and safe."

He's quiet, obviously not sure what to do here, and obviously not used to having choices. "-I I don't- Whatever you think best?"

"Okay. So... how about this, you stay with me for a while, I figure how to do that out, and then if you ever decide to go to the heroes when you're safer and happier you can do that."

He brightens. "I- if that's what you want?" he agrees. (And it might sound like it's what he wants as well.)

"It's settled then." And their copy returns. "Oh, here we go." Copy has coal and some firewood.

He flickers towards the fuel, and then stops, drawing back, seemingly waiting for permission.

"Wanna try the coal or stick to the familiar wood?" copy asks.

He hovers uncertainly. "I-I- the wood? Please?" He knows that will work, in a way he's not sure the- But Glam went to the effort of getting the coal, and he shouldn't make that a waste of time. "Wait- I- the coal is fine? Either? Please?"

"I'll give you one of either and you try both and see which one you prefer?" Glam suggests, and the copy offers them.

He hesitates for a moment and then flickers forward, wrapping around the wood first, very careful not to hit the copy's fingers, even knowing they're probably fireproof.

The wood chars rapidly, disappearing into the flames, but strangely, no ash falls.

Copy seems unconcerned about burning, and offers the coal.