The Universe calls each day. There are things to do, people to meet, places to go. Realities across universes differ, but this mundane routine of constant doing for a purpose unknown became normal for Miguel. With the loss of his wings, he had no other choice.

"Where to?" Miguel asked the young girl standing first in line.

"Conlahv," she answered giddily, "I'm going to see the stars up close."

She handed him her ticket. The Nano program installed in his optic lenses scanned her information before his vision lit up green. Ophelilia Grover.

"All good to go." He motioned for her to pass through.

They both stepped onto the airway track. The breeze up here was strong and even managed to push Ophelilia back a few feet, but she was steadied by Miguel's strong hand on her shoulder. He smiled politely.

"Ready?"

She nodded. Miguel let go of her shoulder as she used her own Nano program, becoming weightless with a flight pod suit encasing her body. Eager to see the gorgeous view of the plants and trees from up above, Miguel attached the straps of Ophelilia's suit to his own before taking off.

The first thing he could feel was the air moving all around his body. It slid with him, aiding their method of travel. Ophelilia let a holler of joy escape her lips. It made Miguel wonder if this was her first time experiencing this; he would certainly understand wanting to scream in awe from this view. Imagining it was, made for the flight feeling even more joyous than usual. It was whimsical. It was life.

He missed living.

"Mister Miguel!" He was pulled from his memory of his time as a Flyer.

"What is it, Darren?"

Stripped away from his cherished life in flight transportation, Miguel had been demoted (at least, what he considered a demotion) to a Watcher. Rather than flying and ravishing in glorious scenery every day, he was subdued to childcare. Not that he didn't adore the little rascals.

"I got a green bean stuck in my nose," Darren said, eyes watery and face clearly distressed.

Miguel sighed. He wanted to return to Conlahv. Touch the snow on the treetops as he whizzed by. Feel that buzz of life again.

Ever since his last night in the rain, Miguel hadn't been able to use his wings. They were still there, stunning as ever, but they stung. They hurt to move or touch. Flying was out of the question entirely.

"Let's help you get that out, sound good buddy?" Miguel said in the most comforting voice he could, extending his much larger hand for Darren to grasp.

Darren sniffled, all while cracking a little grin. "Yes, Mister Miguel. Thank you."

The sky blackened long after the green bean had been dislodged from Darren's nose. Miguel promptly put him and the other little ones to bed, his partner checking on some of the older kids.

As a Watcher, he was assigned to a faction with many rooms for kids to share. It was almost considered strange to have a biological mother, father, and siblings. The necessity of housing was available for all children to grow up with the resources needed to function. Then, it was Miguel's job to look after, love, and tend toward them.

Resting his back against the bedroom door as he shut it, Miguel exhaled in relief after his long day. A strange feeling was reverberating through his stiffened shoulders but back pain was nothing new to him. His wings ached constantly. The sting had become a norm, but always prevented him from sweet relief.

He took a step towards his bed but winced. "Why does my ass hurt? I didn't even do anything today."

Once bare and buried in his cool sheets, he turned over. The pain was only worsening.

Not only did his spine throb, but his shoulders and the back of his neck were on fire. His tawny skin, flawless and smooth as it was, burned like an ignited flame.

"Hell," he spat through his teeth, convulsing as an extra strong wave of pain seared through his back.

Rain began to pour hard, a crack of thunder exploding at the same time Miguel fell off his bed in agony. It felt much like the night he lost the function of his wings, especially with the incessant sweat dripping from his every pore emulating his prior rain-soaked self.

He was in anguish. Torment he'd never wish upon his worst enemy. An excruciating twinge shocked the top layer of his skin before it became so unbearable that thoughts were no longer comprehensible. All he knew was pain.

Upon waking up, Miguel stared at the changes to his body in disbelief. The beautiful tan skin upon his back had turned a sickly color, expanding from his neck to the bottom of his spine. It felt like his movement there was restricted and turning his head caused a nauseating pain to erupt. Adjacent to it, he noticed a few feathers fading a dark, grayish shade as opposed to their natural pristine white. It felt like his movement there was restricted as well and turning his head caused a nauseating pain to erupt from the bone.

Miguel's jaw jutted out as he continued to inspect his wings in the mirror. Not only was their appearance worrisome, but his normal pain had multiplied by a million. It felt deep and raw. His heart sank to his stomach, the reality of his situation beginning to set in.

"Am I ill?" he whispered, gently touching his injuries and immediately hissing in pain.

He tried to return to his day as normal. Shirt acting as a cloak to conceal the underlying damage to his back, Miguel quickly readied himself before tending to the children. Darren, of course, was the last one out of the door for school that morning as he spent as much time as possible eating the breakfast Miguel prepared for everyone. Little did the young boy know, Miguel had to stop and double over in agony four times while flipping pancakes on the stovetop. It took him double the amount of time it normally would have taken and nearly resulted in Darren being late.

Exhausted, nauseated and too disoriented to find his way back to bed, Miguel collapsed on the living room couch as soon as little Darren was out of the house.