"What a waste," I mutter, still wishing for that gratitude, that relief. It doesn't come. All I see is Bill Foster's wasted body, being lowered into a hole by a crane. Everything both sides went through and it took a Skrull invasion and an attack on the realm of the gods to get the thing overturned. The people who wanted it put into place undid it themselves with shortsightedness and ego, which is almost always the way of things, but even knowing that...

My head aches with the sudden onslaught of scenarios I can't help but run. if I was even half decent company before, this officially marks the end of it.