So I've gotten a lot of questions about this story: how many more chapters are there? one. this was it. Am I finishing this story? This is the unfinished epilogue so I guess yes this is the end. I got about 1k into this but eventually lost interest because of the story's blandness and overused plotline but I might as well post this to tie up any loose ends as I don't know if I will come back to BF5, though I wont be going further with this one. Just to clarify what is missing in the chapter was just going to be the team reconciling and Vert and Stanford having better respect for each other.

Stanford felt a dull shiver travel through his body – form close to sprawled out and bound by mind-forged weights. He could barely muster the strength to try to lift his concrete-heavy eyelids, let alone try to comprehend what was going on around him. Everything was extremely distorted, his painfully sharp otherworldly senses taken from him as the way in which blindness steals from a person. His ears, the only sense still working, could pick up faint voices through the rough noise of the migraine thrumming in his head. A range of different voices, but their words were meaningless garble to him all the same, so he couldn't figure it out if they were talking to him or not. He tried to do so much as twitch his fingers, but each and every known bone in his body was sore and tender, as though newly set. He had a vague understanding of what was going on, but somehow, knowing that this was probably a consequence of his 'illness' didn't scare him. In fact, he was far from panicked – so sedated and tired that there was barely any feeling left. His mind wasn't racing or looking for escape routes or … looking for something to maul. Speaking of which, he couldn't feel the inexplicable rage that was usually bubbling up inside his body. Nor did he feel ravenous or threatened. Just drained. And that, despite what he had been through in the past through days, was abnormal. His body had been on overdrive. And his mind was parched, his memory full of sand. All very vague. There had been a struggle, that he was sure of. He wasn't sure who it was. He had been afraid, afraid and possessive about something. And it had hurt. He was hurt and then got stuck inside his own head.

"Stanford? Hang on Sage, I think he's coming to."

Stanford groaned, wanting to communicate a response. He could hear Vert somewhere nearby, trying to talk to him. He fought to open his eyes, wincing as the light rushed in to confront him. He fiercely blinked a few times, everything far too bright. As his eyes adjusted he could make out several figures standing by his bedside. Bedside? He was in some sort of medical room, with his head propped up on a pillow and his arms attached to various monitors. Though his vision was blurry, and he couldn't distinguish faces, he could immediately pick up on the intense brightness of the shocksuits in the room. A full colour spectrum. Except for the royal purple that was his own, that is. Then red. Vert was leaning closer to him. Stanford tried to focus, rubbing his eyes with his heavy hands that felt like he had walked a marathon on them.

"Give him some room guys. Stanford? Dude, can you hear me?"

"Ugh." Stanford groaned, squinting tiredly, struggling to sit up. "Vert? Is that you?" Stanford couldn't be sure. Reality had been so twisted recently. He was half-expecting his body to erupt into a mutant once more.

"Hey, Stanford," Vert said softly, "how are you feeling buddy?"

"I…don't know," Stanford's eyes narrowed. "Though seriously, what did you do to me mates? I feel like I got dropped off a skyscraper and then pushed in front of the buster." He groaned again as he shrugged his shoulders. "every bone in my bloody body is aching like no tomorrow."

"Overstatement," Spinner coughed loudly and then yelped as Agura softly elbowed him in the ribs, silencing him.

"Actually, Stanford's colourful description is quite accurate," Stanford noticed Sage in the corner, wearing a smile that seemed too cheerful for this predicament. "Without the antigen DNA molecules to produce the side effects that increase the rate of cell replenishment and recovery you will heal at the rate of a normal human. In addition, the sudden absence of the foreign DNA has left a theoretical 'gap' in your genetic makeup. You will need to rest your body in order for your immune system to recover from the adverse effects of the toxins."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stanford repeated, "you said they were gone?"

"Indeed," Sage smiled, "only trace amounts of toxins remain. Within a few days, you should be back to your normal self."

"You mean I'm cured!?" Stanford asked, relief and joy present in his voice. It was almost as though the sudden good news had left him energised, as he moved to try and get out of bed. As soon as he tried to put his feet down, however, he cringed under a sudden loss of balance and fell forwards, fortunately where Vert and Sherman could catch him. Sage ushered him back onto the bed, instructing that he must rest. Stanford propped himself back onto the bed and ripped back the sheets, gazing in confusion at the cast of bandages framing his lower leg. As Stanford had been given the antidote shortly after injuring himself, the antibodies hadn't had time to rapidly heal him. When they had got him back, Sage had tried to patch him up as best as she could – thankfully nothing had been thoroughly broken, but there had been one or two hairline fractures to his tibia and Kiburi's trap had left some deep wounds. So, Sage had bound him in braces and bandages, because it seemed like a case for bedrest more than anything.

"Argh!" he growled. Then, his face morphed into a deadpan, as if he was too tired to create a scene. "Let me guess, Sheriff Johnson?"

"Uh about that," Spinner scratched his head nervously, "Krytus."

Stanford raised a brow inquisitively, "we were fighting Krytus?"

"Erm, more like he attacked us and you, justifiably so, fought back," Vert explained.

"Dude, it was awesome! Who knew you could singlehandedly kick major red sentient butt?" Spinner blurted. Stanford frowned.

"Bruh, you don't remember?" AJ asked, "the look on Krytus' face when you cracked his shell."

"I'm just going to stop asking what's going on anymore."

Vert laughed. "Besides, I suppose I'm in your debt for a while buddy…you did kinda save my life back there from Krytus."