Notes1: I just finished typing this and going over the manuscript (EDIT: "Just" as in "I just finished typing this as of almost TWO MONTHS AGO"). I recline back in my seat, look over the summary, and think to myself, "Holy shit, I'm actually really doing this." I'm still hard-pressed to consider this straight-up romance (you know who you are), primarily because I do not have any such experience myself in that particular field; as Li Li mentions, that kind of knowledge comes from being a third-party observer for when my brother was dating years ago when we were attending college. Other than that, my views on interpersonal relationships are idealistic at best and very cynical and pessimistic at worst. If anything, I have always said to myself that I should like to expand my horizons in regards to writing romance. I have this tendency to go down the "fade to black" route because I've felt it to be more effective, and yet there are times where I just want to throw down the gauntlets and, you know, take up the challenge. It's complicated.
Notes2: In terms of, well, "romance", I compare it to that of the Tenchi Muyo series (excluding the doujinshi). This will never reach the levels of Shinmai Maou no Testament, but if I know my readers well, I can guarantee one of you is going to either ask me or outright dare me to do it. In which case, I'll probably take that person up on their offer (so long as it's not Lucario) because I can never resist a challenge.
Notes3: This story will have a more linear plot compared to First Impressions, and a story to boot. You won't have any need of a timeline like you would for that. This story will also be an exercise in worldbuilding, since there's really not too much in the game itself.
Notes4: There's no specific schedule to this or any of the other stories I've put off or are working on due to my work schedule, so don't expect specific dates and times for when a chapter's uploaded. You could consider this chapter a sort of "pilot", so I'd be interested to see if anyone would be intrigued to have more.

"You know, you're really, really bad at lying."

"What?" Nova asked, looking up from the mug of ale she was about to imbibe in. She set it down and glanced sidelong at Li Li. "What makes you think I was lying?"

Li Li blew a raspberry and waved dismissively at her. "Oh, please! Anybody who's anybody can tell you were, quite literally I should say, stumbling over your feet, not to mention your words, at the merest sight of Sylvanas Windrunner. And, not to mention again, you almost got shanked just for bumping into her."

"I was, uh, indisposed about, er, something," she said, and it wasn't quite a lie. Getting drunk was one thing, but thinking of Sylvanas was the last thing she had on her mind in that moment. Contrary to popular belief, Nova was not as crazy-stupid as most of the noblesse and middle-lower class citizens perceived her to be. She still had her sanity, still retained common sense. There were…times…instances, really, when certain interactions made her remember the life she had before the Nexus. Most of those times took place when she slept, and the dreams that occurred reminded her of the first days she spent in the wilds, wandering and wondering, rifle aimed at the trees, at the eyes peering from the darkness between the branches. It left her feeling cold, hollow, like the title she bore, and it unnerved her. She wanted to forget. Li Li didn't have to know.

And, perhaps, Nova didn't want to know anymore than she already did, either.

Li Li nodded knowingly. "Right. That almost cost you. Good thing Uncle Chen had some of those kafa beans on him and fixed that press." She gestured at the machine behind the bar at the opposite end of where they sat, where the bartender, some long-tailed lizardman who visually resembled a protoss, was filling up a Styrofoam cup for a customer.

"She's killed me over a lot less. Remember the fan in the storage room?"

"The fan…? Oh! Yeah, I remember! You were a liar then, you're still a liar now!" Li Li grasped the cup of juice in both hands and drew in a deep draft. Ah, grapes.

Nova had half a mind to give Li Li the good ole one-fingered salute, but she figured it to be too uncouth for a girl her age, so she settled on scraping the underside of her chin and shaking a fist at her. "Bop yourself on the head with a nerf bat! It was…was just an accident. That's all." Indeed it was!

Li Li sighed contentedly and licked her lips. She snickered. "Yeah. Those eyes she was giving you sure must've caused one."

"She gives those eyes to everyone!"

"But they're different!"

"I don't see how. They look the same to me."

Li Li waved the bartender and asked for a second round, to which he acquiesced and excused himself to fetch the pitcher. "Look at it from this angle: it's one thing for Sylvanas to be killing Arthas any chance she gets. You know why, right?"

Nova sniffed. "Because he killed her in her sector. The Banshee Queen variant we're talking of."

"That's right. She's justified to go after him because it's both revenge and catharsis. Rumor has it she didn't participate in the final battle at Icecrown."

"Beats me. I wouldn't know."

"So of course she'd take the opportunity to murder him as much as he wants! You, on the other hand," Li Li was saying, index finger leveled at the Ghost, but she paused as the bartender returned with the juice. She dug around in her tunic, pulled out a silver dollar, and snapped it in his direction. He caught it in midair, bowed low at the waist, and took his leave. She took another draft, sighed again. "You…You're different. She gives you That Look, see. It's very important because it's capitalized. It's a bit of a mix of two opposing spectrums: on one side, it's the look a predatory animal gives to its prey before it makes its move—she's just waiting for her to slip up so she can sink her claws in 'em, maybe even a knife between the ribs or in the guts. However, on the other side of the spectrum, there's a certain element of wariness, the kind of gaze a scientist makes when she's trying to solve the code that'll stop nuclear missiles from blowing up all the over world; the kind of gaze a middle school student gives when they're trying to solve a really hard math problem. It's also the kind of gaze a person shows when they know what to say but deep inside they're not really sure what to make of the situation they're in so they just go with their impulses. Like Sylvanas snapping your neck that day than kindly but firmly telling us to get the heck out. By the way, she turned Jaina and Valla into pincushions; Kerrigan and I skedaddled outta there pretty quickly. You get what I'm saying?"

For a long time, Nova stared at Li Li. Her face was hard and stiff and her eyes were wide and calculating, her lips pressing into a firm, invisible line. It didn't help that the fluorescent lamps hanging above their heads made them shine even brighter and whiter, like a life-size doll with porcelain in its skull. Li Li wondered what was going through her mind.

"Li Li, how old are you?"

That was an unexpected question. "Uh…fifteen."

Nova shook her head. "Like hell you look fifteen. You don't even act fifteen. Fifteen-year-olds don't talk like they came out of a streetsmart Stephen King doorstopper."

"Stephen who?"

"Never you mind that, Li Li. I am very glad that kafa press is working."

"If it wasn't, you'd be taking another trip through the Hall. How many times does that make that?"

Nova looked away, blushing, rubbing the back of her head. "I, uh, kind of lost count. I'd have to look through the books again."

Li Li sighed, rolling her eyes skyward. "Ugh! You gotta do something about this, Nova! You can deny it as much as you want, but when even a little girl like me can see your reactions are as plain as the sunny days in Luxoria, it's not only damning but it's pretty telling you're dancing around the issue! Very, very badly, I must say."

Nova looked away again, fully facing the other end of the bar. She clenched the mug. "…I'm not into women that way."

Li Li blew another raspberry, rolled her eyes again, waved that dismissive wave of hers. "That is such a lie!"

"And Sylvanas is…well, she's undead. They're pretty edgy and don't feel that positive mumbo-jumbo like Nazeebo does."

Li Li was silent. "Well," she began, "you're right—"

"I'm always right," Nova said proudly, sticking her nose up in the air.

"But you are so obvious around Sylvanas that no amount of beating that dead horse is going to convince people otherwise. I'll bet even the Powers are in the know!"

"You're too young to know this kind of stuff."

"Hey, kids younger than me know more than people care to admit. They'll tell you the same thing."

"They're kids, Li Li. They're young and impressionable, so they'll parrot whatever their friends and family say."

"You underestimate us, Nova," Li Li said, scooping up a handful of almonds from the ceramic bowl placed between them.

"I think I'm more qualified between the two of us who should be saying that," Nova countered, and made to reach for the nuts. They sounded crunchy, and she yearned to savor the taste of salt and sweetness mashed between her molars.

Li Li swiped the bowl under her hand and pulled it close toward her, give her a warning look—You've had too much to drink tonight, it told her. Don't waste the kafa. "Just take the plunge, Nova. I mean, you're a soldier. If you can assassinate people without feeling so much as remorse, you can confess your feelings to a brooding, self-professed high elf queen of the walking dead. Or the Ranger-General variant; I know you feel the same way about her, but you've known the Banshee Queen longer than that one. It's really up to you."

Nova rested her chin on the palm of an upturned hand, squashing her cheek against the gauntlet's cool black metal. "…And if she doesn't reciprocate?"

"Then at least you can say it was worth a shot. I mean, that doesn't mean you still can't be…well, 'friends' is stretching it but 'partners of convenience' kinda fits the bill. You'd just have to accept it and move on to the other Sylvanas. She seems to be more…approachable."

"She almost twisted my arm out of its socket once because she wanted to prove ghosts couldn't feel pain."

"You could still try."

"And if that doesn't work, either?"

Li Li frowned. "Oh. Uh…well." She found the grain in the counter top to be extremely interesting. It was so shiny she could see the reflection scratch the fur between her ears; if she stared hard enough, she figured that she might be able to see the wheels turning ponderously in her head. "You should tell her," she said. "Both of them. Get it out of the way as soon as possible…before someone else snatches them up. Like, uh, Li-Ming or that new girl…uh, what's her name…right, Tracer. Maybe even Illidan."

"Illidan?!" Nova exclaimed, perking up suddenly at the name. She had spoken a little too loudly, which attracted a number of curious and alarmed gazes from the bartender and nearby patrons. Li Li waved them off, and they returned to their activities. "I thought he was still hung up Tyrande?"

"He is, and there's no doubt he's not interested. It's just some wishful fantasies I hear pass around from the serfs, who hear it from the noblesse, who it here from the tabloid reporters. People are…really dedicated to the idea…b-but don't worry about it! It's just gossip! Illidan prefers respect over interpersonal bonding, anyway!"

"I'm not worried."

But she looked it all the same, even if she was doing a somewhat decent job trying to maintain a stoic façade. "You have to try! You saw her first! You said so yourself. If there are others who are interested and willing to share, then you'll have to let them know."

"I guess so." And that was very much true, but the conversation had brought a grim little rain cloud to pour on Nova's otherwise sobering mood. She drank what little remained of the kafa, tossed some gold and silver coins next to the mug from her change purse, and hopped off the stool. "You know a lot about this sort of thing for a girl your age."

"I never claimed to be an expert in relationships," said Li Li, tapping her hands on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth to an internal, seesawing rhythm. "It's all about observing and learning with the six senses. I could be wrong, though. People tend to exaggerate the details a lot more than they should."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind."

"Go for it, Nova! I believe in you!" Li Li called out after her. Nova couldn't help but wince at the noisy proclamation, earning more than a few quiet giggles and fist bumps from the customers she passed by on her way to the exit. She sniffed at their responses, but for the most part ignored them.

When she arrived at the dormitory, the sky was darkening and the first stars of the night appeared like a magician's trick. There were a few students lounging on the benches or under trees or by the fountain, holding private conversations reserved for social cliques or smoking in the designated areas. Nova brushed by them and entered the building, stalked down the halls, passively skimmed over the signs pointing to specific wings and upper levels, the fire exits, the basement leading to the boiler rooms, the cafeterias, the elevators, the teleportation networks connected to particular points throughout the Hubland, various niches and alcoves she could find safety in or a place to hide or make something of it. She did this until her feet carried her to Room #16. She opened the door.

The room was mutedly fetching to the eye. Blue carpeting; white-painted walls adorned with pennants ranging from Nexus U, State of Hubland, the Cult of the Raven, the Gravekeeper's Seminary (it had once been the Necromancer's Seminary, until Xul arrived and prompted Him to change the institute's name, much to His chagrin), Dragon Shire Academy for Higher Learning; awards for highest damage and siege output; a Xeroxed copy of the repair bill regarding the reconstruction of the stables from last year. A ballistic missile that Nova hoped was a dud was mounted on the wall above one of several desks containing pictures of tanks from the Koprulu Sector, War World III, and group photos of the girls (Jaina, Valla, Kerrigan, Johanna, Li Li, Tyrande Whisperwind and Tyrande Windrunner, herself, and both Sylvanas variants—one disgruntled and the other very petulant) strewn between a hastily-thrown pile of blank paper with a fountain pen on top and a datapad connected to the USB port of a charger/portable music player. The beanbags in front of the TV set looked cold and empty; the TV itself was on and showing a program about restoring old vehicles both hovercraft and land-based uni-wheel pods dating back to the 8900's. She smelled rice, fried meat, and apples coming from the kitchenette to her left. There was also the hint of napalm in the air, faint like the residue of skunk spray. Either Hammer had returned from another day at the garage working on the tanks and choppers…or she opened a can of the stuff long before Nova arrived. That woman loved her napalm.

Nova walked by the area and approached her side of the room. The bed sheets felt cool to the touch, smelled of laundry detergent and cordite from when she broke down, cleaned, and repaired the sniper rifle yesterday evening. Said weapon was propped up against the wall by the nightstand, holding a Renaissance-era alarm clock (the ones with the itty-bitty bell that chimed blaringly upon the hour it was set to wake its occupant), a hardback copy of Victor Milán's The Dinosaur Lords and an empty leather sheathe for the combat knife that she was certain was still under her pillow; she checked and it was. A table-cum-desk sat beneath the window overlooking the garden and rampant strands of ivy and dandelions, a minor mental note she made to herself to get around to doing soon before they started to seed and spread. There wasn't much on the desk save for a large calendar; a Rolodex; a plastic cup holding several pens, pencils, plastic and wooden rulers, and a roll of clear Scotch tape; her own portable music player that was disconnected from the port, and framed copies of the photos that were on Hammer's side.

One in particular caught Nova's eye: a picture of her and the Banshee Queen Sylvanas in the town plaza during Noblegarden. The food stands and gift shops were bedecked in colorful streamers, balloons, and signs declaring free items with every two or three purchases of the same brand of eggs, red alert prices on hot items such as seasonal knickknacks, scarecrows for the upcoming crop planting, and derby hats, and an arrow-shaped sign pointing to the path leading to hayrides and horse and tallstrider rides around the pens. Nova recalled that day very clearly: she was pulling Sylvanas along on the road to see the sights, take in the smells of beasts and folk and aromas of grilled meats and marinated fish and caramelized vegetables and sharp, sweet spices, and at one point she managed catch Jaina, who, by luck or dint, had a digital camera dangling from a black shoelace string around her neck. She had snapped the picture of the two of them, posing with the peace sign. Nova couldn't help the corner of her lips upturning at that. She had been pretty into it. Sylvanas…well, even looking disgruntled, she got in on the act. The scar along her nose made her seem as though she were blushing. Maybe she was, having been cornered by what was surely Azeroth's equivalent to a Disney princess and an overly cheerful soldier.

'Cheerful'. Such an odd word to associate herself with now. Such a word would be a far cry for the Ghost in the past, one which held no meaning. It may as well be a corpse. It may as well be a phantom that has just now come back to haunt her. Or, more reasonably, it and all the other positive emotions from long ago, from before the Academy, before the gutters, before the mind blast—

Before the eyes in the woods of the dark receded and….

Nova perished the thought. "Why am I even thinking about that," she grumbled, putting her back to the photo lest those thoughts sullied its purity. They didn't control her anymore. The Nexus was a place of opportunity, regardless of the general snobbery, laziness, Kaijo attacks and invasions from the Realm of Darkness, and instances of people and creatures not affiliated with the Leagues and its contested territories crossing through dimensions (like those cute white dogs). One could help provide for the needy, the poor, and the peasantry and become a paragon of goodness. One could both stake his economical and financial claims and advocate becoming a lord or lady of barony or leading examples of technological advances. One could declare his or her dominance and wage a perpetually locked war with the other realms via their connections with the Hero League. There were many ways a person ripped from their sector could do here.

For Nova, she had thought for a long time on what she wanted to do.

Eventually, she came to the conclusion that there was no better way to spend time in the Nexus than to start anew, and…make sense of these newfound, buried emotions.

It seemed fitting enough, regardless of the…circumstances.

"Hey, welcome back!" Hammer said, leaning backwards through the open threshold. Nova turned around and thought she saw a frying pan in the Sarge's hand. "How long you been here?"

"I just got here," Nova said, shrugging. She sniffed. "Did you put the flame up on very high again?" Yes, something was definitely burning in there.

"Hell yeah! I'm frying hot dogs and eggs on the skillets! You want 'em now?"

"As long as they're not black as Darkness and the yoke's still runny."

"Roger that! Give me a few more minutes!" Hammer straightened out and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Try not to burn the place down while you're at it! I like living here, and I don't want to have to see another citation from the League in the mail again."

The kitchenette—and, to an extension, the entire building—did not burn down, and they settled for eating at the kotatsu, even though the evening was still relatively warm. Nova ate lightly, content to listen to Hammer recounting the details of the day; she had been busy running tune-ups on her tanks and those of her variants', assisting Gazlowe and Raynor and Tychus with operating the Chop Shop and taking inventory of its supplies, and allowing a good number of customers to give their rides a test run. It was all standard fare, nothing too special. In another three to four weeks, another Hero would emerge from the timeways and prove his or her mettle for the masses. Perhaps that person would bring a vehicle with them for the Hammers and Gazlowes to gloat over. Perhaps the League would be commissioned by a noble House to construct a mechanical mount or offer them a beast from any of the wayward realms to this new arrival, a subtle gesture of friendship (and mutual convenience), hoping to earn their favor and sponsorship in the leagues.

When asked by Hammer what she did today, Nova fumbled for an answer: "Oh, uh, you know, target practice at the grounds—targets, not people, Hammer. Come on, you know me. Uh, what else? I took one of my walks today, 'round the fairgrounds, through the plaza, past the lakes and back. Then, uh, I hit up the Whimsical Unicorn and, uh," she paused, thoughts lingering. Should she tell her about Sylvanas? She wondered, and decided to continue, venturing forth tentatively with, "I kinda bumped into Sylvanas. You know how it is with all that sauce in you, the mind's not always there. So I bumped into her and…well…I almost added another mark to my latest book, see. Had this real murderous glint in her eyes, or maybe that was just the glare from the overhead lights; what's it called again? It's that thing cats and dogs get when you take a picture of them with the flash on." She snapped her fingers. "Uh…eyeshine! It's eyeshines! Man, I didn't think elves, let alone undead ones, had that—"

"Nova, honey," Hammer interjected gently, smirking over a brimming cup of Kaja cola, "you gotta do something about her. About her," she enunciated slowly, seeing the startled look on her face, "not to her…but hey! I won't judge ya—"

"No, but I'll stop you right there!" Nova exclaimed, slamming both fists on the table hard enough to make the silverware rattle. "Come on! I haven't even done so much as offer her to take potshots and orbital strikes at Arthas way back during Valentine's Day!"

"That's a date right there." Hammer took a perfunctory sip.

"The hell it's not! I give her a little plastic flower from the best mom and pop store that I, in my most humble opinion, could find—"

"Courtship." Hammer grinned.

Nova fumed silently, face burning. "I give her a little plastic flower," she repeated bitingly, "because I noticed she didn't get any gifts, so on top of that I decided 'hey, we're both marksmen, how's about you and I go out and make Arthas dance the Lindy Hop for a couple hours? Sounds like fun, wouldn't you say?' And why yes, Hammer, she found it very fun. Anybody would find kicking the Lich King's ass fun; no one likes the guy! Not even Leoric!"

"Still a date."

"It's not a date! It's a…a," Nova grabbed her bowl of rice and held it aloft in the air, as if it were some kind of trophy, "a friendly outing!"

"You don't ask the other girls out on these outings. Not even little ole me!" Hammer genuflected dramatically, hand over heart.

"I don't trust you enough to hang out with if nine out of ten times you don't leave your tank. Jaina spends most of her time wandering around helping people or having her nose buried in a book. Valla's always tending to the animals at the stables, and if she's not she's with the Nexus Border Patrol and their Realm Knights on their ranges scouting the Edges and Shadowskirts for demons and Lovecraftian abominations. Johanna preaches at the Church of Light, Doc Morales runs the clinic, Tracer and Brightwing can't keep still for two seconds without something shiny or interesting catching their attention, Sonya helps the League with drilling the minions going through the transition, Tyrande's attached to the hip with Malfurion and Lunara spreading ecopolitics and moonwells wherever they go, and I don't care what Kerrigan does. I mean, some of the girls might want to if they have the time. Li Li definitely would, but half the time I can never seem to find her; she's got that whole wanderlust thing going on. That and she's lucky she's a participant in the League; otherwise she'd be excluded from half the places in the Nexus due to being underage."

"She always will be," said Hammer. "Heroes never stay dead for long and they don't age. 'S all part of our contracts, but I think that's okay. What's one year to the legal age for, say, smoking or drinking? Everybody gets a free pass. But as I was saying: ya need to do something, girl! It ain't even have to be a date. Just, you know, hang out more often. Be persistent. I read somewhere that people in high positions like to be dominated. Who knows, maybe Sylvanas will take a shine to you if you're more assertive."

"Or kill me again," she added a little sullenly. But that in itself wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Not always, Nova told herself. When it concerned matters of the heart, though, then things became a lot more…muddled.

Hammer took a long pull of her drink and set it down on the table. "Ya know, my mama always told me that when a person is being mean to another for no good reason, there's a good chance it usually means they like them because they either they can't work up the courage to admit it, they're embarrassed of how it'll come out, or they're scared—"

"She's none of those things."

"Or she doesn't know any better."

"Li Li said the same thing! The anecdotes, the analogies, the blatant persistence of 'do or die lest the chance slips from your fingertips'…the Nexus is such a small world!"

"Well, yeah. You can't get any more obvious than you already are now." Hammer picked up her own bowl and indulged in the meat and rice.

Nova mulled this over for a bit, tapping the chopsticks against the rim of the dish. "Is…Is it that obvious?"

"Let's put it this way: I could be a traffic controller who's part of a group that's, say, closed off a drawbridge that's in need of repairs. Both decks are drawn. It's my job to redirect the flow of traffic that wants to get on the bridge onto another road so they can continue on their way. They obey. You would blow right through it like something straight of that one scene from Gunsmith Cats, except you're stuck in a time loop blowing yourself up over and over again until you finally realize the error of your ways and follow the rest of the crowd. See, no dying."

"…Huh." She had never thought of it that way. She picked up the chopsticks, scooped up the last of the rice, and popped them in her mouth, nibbled on the tips.

"Yeah. You're trying way too hard. Ease up a little." Hammer dug into the bowl, lowered it, added through a mouthful of food, "A lot." She swallowed. "Ain't gonna make any progress hitting Sylvanas over the head with the proverbial sledgehammer."

"I…I suppose you're right. It wouldn't do to be so clingy. Sylvanas seems to be the type of person who'd like someone who's very…strong, independent. The light to the shadow. The sun to the moon. Or perhaps she'd prefer someone a little more…submissive. She's got that whole Queen shtick going for her; maybe she's got that dominant streak I've heard the noblesse mumble about in the taverns when they think no one's listening." Nova put a hand under her chin. "You know, now that I think about it, that could explain half the deaths I've endured by her hands…."

"Why, Nova, I didn't take you to be that kind o' girl!" Hammer said, grinning. "Tell me more!"

Nova started. "I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"'S okay, girl, we all have our kinks! Come on, I can keep a secret. After all, you know mine! Pretty please?"

"My kinks are chaste!"

"So you say, little ghostie. So you say." Hammer topped it off by sipping her drink.

Nova spent the remainder of their supper in brooding silence, too frustrated to counter her, speaking in short and terse sentences only when Hammer did; and Hammer, damn that Sergeant Hammer, merely looked at her whenever she talked and tried her hardest not to smirk or smile knowingly, but it slipped. They slipped, alright, and Nova was pressed not to go up to her and do something brash, like threatening a beat-down or blackmail her into silence by holding her precious napalm jars hostage by having them held out the window, just waiting to be let go and dropped. The garden would be sacrificed, but if it got the message across….

In the end, Nova forewent the issue.

Later that night, when curfew had come and gone and most of the lights were out (save for those who were pulling all-nighters, studying and cramming as much knowledge as they could for whatever important tests they were about to embark on), Nova lay in bed, body uncovered save for her legs under the sheets. Hammer snored nearby, drowning out the distant hooting of owls and the passage of ion engines and rubber treads in traffic on Highway 20. The Dinosaur Lords lay upended on the nightstand, bookmarked but forgotten; she was not quite in the mood to pick up where she left off.

Instead she let her mind wander.

Somewhere in the dorm, Li-Ming slept, having passed out in bed with several arcane tomes, plastic potion bottles, and white-furred dogs strewn around the bed and floor. She dreamed of blowing up demons with Eirena and Kormac and Lyndon. She dreamed of sharing a drink with them at the inn. She dreamed of Leah and Isendra and felt whole again.

Somewhere, Tracer slept, clutching her pillow, dreaming of Winston and Torbjorn and Reinhardt and crossing guns and bullets with Widowmaker above the streets of King's Row.

Somewhere, Tyrande Windrunner slept, dreaming of her version of Silvermoon, her people the Sin'dorei, and the possibility of trying to get closer to her 'time-lost' relative, Sylvanas.

Somewhere, Jaina slept, all smiles and loose blonde hair, dreaming of books that didn't spontaneously combust during an afternoon read, Garrosh Hellscream actually paying attention to his role as Warchief, and all was right with her version of the world of Azeroth. Everybody got along.

Somewhere, Valla slept in the shack across from the stables, dreaming of long walks on the beach with a pack of puppies, the Greater and Lesser Dogs at her heels, chasing each other, rolling in the sand, and splashing in the shallows. She held the reins of a beautiful white stallion—Tyrael's charger named (what else) Justice—trailing along her footsteps. The sky was clear from a long rainy day, complete with a colorful rainbow. It was paradise, and they were far enough away from civilization where no one and nothing could destroy the stables.

Somewhere, Nova of the Skovos Isles slept, dreaming of home and honing her craft, to the delight of her fans. She hoped to gain Sylvanas's attention and be recognized as an equal marksman. Sooner or later, she would be noticed.

Somewhere, Kate 'Supernova' Dennings slept, dreaming of kicking ass and taking names from anyone and anything, especially if those people happened to be the Banshee Queen of Undercity, the Lich King, the Lord of Terror, and the Hierarch of the Daelaam. Titles and individual power meant nothing to her unless it belonged to her and her alone. One way or another, she would leave her mark upon the Nexus.

Somewhere, the Spectre variant of Nova slept, dreaming of Tosh, of those other peculiar Spectres who supposedly knew her in their variant sectors—Illidan, whose psychic power was so great he could mutate himself into a winged demon out of legend for a few minutes at a time; and Tracer, whose ability to control the flow of her own time was an invaluable asset. She dreamed of home among her unit, of the missions to look forward to, of the smell of cordite coming from the gun she held between her hands.

And somewhere, Sylvanas slept, both the Ranger General and the Banshee Queen. Perhaps they were dreaming of Quel'Thalas before the Fall, or maybe their sisters before the world came crashing down. Perhaps one of them would be accompanied by Doodle, who at this point may as well be officially her pet and adopted, furry child, curled up in bed or on the floor, on his side or on his back with his legs up in the air.

Nova didn't know.

Nova couldn't possibly know what the others were dreaming about or if they were even sleeping at all.

The imagination is a powerful tool. She could be wrong. She could be right. It didn't really matter.

So it was time for Nova to sleep, as she chanced a sidelong glance at the alarm clock and noted it was half past midnight. She could not exactly say she was tired, but lying here on her back, arms spread out across the mattress, the window opened enough for her to feel the cool breeze on her skin, she believed she could afford to believe that sleep would indeed come.

And so it did, as she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

For now, she thought in the back of her mind, her troubles would have to wait another day.