Wax struggled in the dark waters.Then something erupted to his right. A flash of light, blinding and dazzling. Followed by a shock wave in the air, and another in the water. For both, he thought he glimpsed—briefly, through the omnipresent light—the sight of a figure dulling the wave directly in front of him. A calm Terrisman standing tall on the surface of the water, with one hand stretched forward. Then, darkness again. Wax blinked, his eyes blinded by the blast. Debris rained around him. Splashing into the choppy waves.
In moments, Wax was struggling to stay afloat. He’d hit the water hard, and thought he’d broken at least one leg. Wayne, trying to save his life? That frustrating, infuriating … … that wonderful man.

“Farewell, my friend,” Wax whispered, choking on his emotion. “You incredible rusting man. Thank you.”

As the waters grew more choppy, Wax had to struggle harder. He forced through pain, grief, and fatigue to keep himself—barely—afloat. He burned his steel, then … something else. Something deep within, which kept him warm.