"You were in two Behemoth attacks? Jesus, kid."

"I didn't really think about how most people aren't. Yeah."

"You're—holding up pretty well."

"I have powers. I like having powers. I can put the whole city back. I was going to do that."

"...okay, I guess. Still might wanna talk to people."

"I don't wanna talk to people very much but I don't want to scare them either."

"They'll probably want to ask you to do it a certain way, you shouldn't just make a city appear out of nowhere."

"I guess."

They fly on.

He goes back to sad singing.

"—what's that?"

"...a song? For all the dead people?"

"...it's beautiful."

"Thanks. It helps."

Once Fëanáro resumes, he listens for a bit, then calls it in on a radio, explaining his findings. And the song.

He keeps singing the song.

His companion does not interrupt it with more conversation. The song makes him somewhat uncomfortable.

The trip takes a while.

That is okay. He is an Elf, even if he's not telling these people because they are a sort-of evil dictatorship. He has Elf-shaped ideas of a while.

About four hours later they reach a large coastal city, a tall statue of a man with outstretched arms standing on a hill overlooking the city.

Flap flap. He keeps singing.

They reach an official-looking building, something like what the PRT building he was in with Legend would have looked like some three to five years ago. The cape starts dealing with the bureaucracy to let himself and Fëanáro through, but the winged boy draws stares.

That's fine. He keeps on singing.

The personnel looks—very militaristic. Lots of guns, even more than at the PRT, and everyone very prim and proper. AK brings them to a waiting room, and says, "We should wait here."

"Okay. For what?"

"Vice-Director Silva."