A Bench in the City

Sorry for not uploading yesterday(I went to the doctor)

Question of the day: Have you ever played or are still playing roblox?(I am, there are surpringly a lot of talented devs there)

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Tyr sat at his desk, his fingers hovering over his phone. The light from the monitor cast a faint glow across the dim workshop, illuminating the exhaustion etched into his features. His body was healing, but the scars on his mind lingered like deep, unrelenting shadows.

Argos's voice broke the silence. "Tyr, your hesitation is unusual. Is this a difficult decision?"

Tyr exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. "No, it's not that." He tapped the phone screen, pulling up Oliver's contact. "It's just... how do you tell someone who stepped up for you to stop?"

"By being honest," Argos replied simply.

Tyr chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, easier said than done."

Without waiting any longer, he pressed the call button.

"Hello?" Oliver's voice came through, slightly muffled, but it carried a note of relief. "Tyr? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," Tyr said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm back."

"Holy—where have you been?! Argos wouldn't say anything, and I thought—"

"I know," Tyr interrupted gently. "I'm sorry, Oli. It's... complicated."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "You're okay, right? Like, really okay?"

"I'm fine now," Tyr lied, his voice steady. "Listen, that's not why I called. I wanted to say thank you—for everything you've been doing while I was gone. But..."

"But what?"

"I need you to stop," Tyr said firmly.

Oliver's confusion was palpable. "Stop? You mean... stop being Impulse?"

"Yeah. You've done enough," Tyr said. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger anymore. I'm back, and I'll handle things from here."

Oliver hesitated. "Tyr, I'm not just going to sit on the sidelines."

"You don't have to," Tyr replied. "You're still part of this. But right now, I need you to trust me. Focus on your training. When the time comes, you'll be ready. I promise."

Another pause. Then Oliver sighed. "Alright. I'll stop—for now. But you better not leave me in the dark again."

Tyr smiled faintly. "Deal."

After the call, Tyr sat in silence, his thoughts heavy. The weight of the past two years still pressed down on him, a constant reminder of the prison he'd escaped.

"I need a break," he muttered, standing up.

"A wise decision," Argos said. "Perhaps time away will aid your recovery."

Tyr grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "I'll be back later. Don't... do anything crazy while I'm gone."

The streets of New York were alive with the usual bustle of the city. Tyr kept his head down as he walked, the noise and movement feeling overwhelming after the isolation of the Shadow Prison.

He wandered aimlessly, letting the city guide him. The sounds of car horns, distant laughter, and street vendors shouting their wares all blurred together, forming a cacophony that both grounded him and heightened his sense of alienation.

Eventually, he found himself in a quiet park, the chaos of the city fading into the background. He spotted a bench near a cluster of trees and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Tyr stared at the ground, his mind racing with fragmented thoughts. The Shadow Prison. The Hand. Finn. Oliver. Argos. Every moment, every memory felt like a weight dragging him down.

His hands clenched into fists as he muttered under his breath, "Two years... two years gone..."

"You know," a soft voice said, startling him, "you look like you're carrying the world on your shoulders."

Tyr looked up to see a young woman standing in front of him. She had sharp, expressive eyes and long, dark hair that framed her face. Her casual outfit—a hoodie and jeans—was slightly rumpled, as though she'd been on the move for a while.

"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "Didn't mean to interrupt your brooding session."

Tyr blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... it's fine. I didn't realize anyone was there."

The girl sat down on the bench beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. "Mind if I join? You seem like you could use some company."

Tyr hesitated. He wasn't used to random people talking to him, let alone sitting next to him like this.

"I guess," he said finally.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Tyr stared straight ahead, his thoughts still swirling, while the girl studied him curiously.

"You've got a haunted look," she said, breaking the silence.

Tyr raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the observation, Dr. Freud."

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Okay, fair. But seriously, what's got you so down?"

Tyr hesitated, unsure how much to say. "Just... stuff," he said vaguely.

"Stuff," she repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Wow, you're a vault of secrets, aren't you?"

Tyr couldn't help but smile faintly. "Maybe."

"Well, for what it's worth," she said, "whatever you're going through, it's not the end of the world. I mean, it might be, but you look like the kind of guy who can handle it."

Tyr glanced at her, surprised by her casual confidence. "You don't even know me."

"True," she admitted. "But I've got a good sense about people."

He studied her for a moment, noting the faint bags under her eyes and the slight weariness in her posture. "What about you?" he asked. "You look like you've been through some stuff too."

The girl shrugged. "Ran away from home," she said simply. "Needed a change of scenery. And hey, New York's as good a place as any, right?"

Tyr frowned. "Ran away? Why?"

She leaned back, looking up at the sky. "Family drama. Nothing worth talking about."

He didn't press further, sensing it was a sore subject. Instead, he nodded. "Yeah, New York's... something."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the noise of the city fading into the background.

"I'm Elizabeth," she said suddenly, holding out her hand.

"Tyr," he replied, shaking it.

"Well, Tyr," she said with a smile, "whatever's got you down, just remember: you're still here. That counts for something."

Her words struck a chord in him.

"Thanks, Elizabeth," he said quietly.

She grinned. "Anytime."