Reno knelt down, digging his fingers into the soil. If he squinted, ignoring the stark-white structures in his peripherals, he could almost fool himself into believing that it was an alien landscape surrounding him, that the rust-red stains on his hands were from some distant planet. The air was crisp, the sky a bright, flawless blue. The clarity of the colors did little to shake him of the illusion.

The source of his uncanny feelings slowly came into focus as he rose to his feet, spun around to look at the group of scientists behind him, and the larger crowd of bystanders beyond that. Reno sucked in air, gave a little sigh. This place felt different because it was clean. Mouna Kea, the world's most elevated observatory, was higher than forty percent of the world's atmosphere; it was a place that soared above the smog, and the floods, and the fear - like Mount Olympus, it felt detached from the troubles of the world, far below.

Reno picked his way across the terrain, drawing the attention of his companions. A tall, sun-weathered woman turned, grinned at him.

"This place is pretty incredible, isn't it? It's like walking on Mars!"

Reno laughed, scrambling up onto a cement platform to greet her. "It's been a long time since I've seen a sky like that."

They stood there for a moment, side by side. Around them, a furious current of human energy snapped and crackled. Equipment was assembled, measurements were taken, logistics hammered out in a cacophony of voices. And behind it all, beyond the laboratory, were the flashes of hulking cameras, the massive buzz of a crowd in anticipation.

Reno finally spoke. "I'm nervous, Lila. Is that strange?"

She shrugged. "Why would it be?"

"I don't know..." He trailed off for a moment . "It's just, we're here - after all this time. We did it. I want to feel ecstatic, hopeful-"

"-but everything's kinda bittersweet." Lila looked away, watched listlessly as a team worked together to haul a steel drum across the uneven ground. Suddenly, she shook her head, shot him a look. "Hey, don't drag me down with you. I wanna savor this moment. We're heroes now, Reno!"

Reno rolled his eyes. "Don't get dramatic. I get it." There was another pause before he spoke again. "I just miss Dad, I think. That's all."

Lila's eyes softened. She gave him a half-smile; a little sad, but a little sweet. "I know. You can't help it, right?. I see him in all of this." Lila gestured. "In everything we finished for him. But come on! This is it - our moment. You're allowed to enjoy it, you know. Go soak up some sun, or something. I can take care of the finalizations."

And with that Lila stomped away, already bellowing at the research team. Reno watched her go, before returning his attention to the landscape. He couldn't get enough of the lighting, the warm afternoon glow of the sun. Weather, for the most part, was a chronic gray; a mix of water vapor and carbon that left the world feeling washed out. But the volcano's peak rose above the cloud cover, and it felt as though they were on an island, floating atop a sea of fog.

Reno tried to imagine what this place would have been like, once. Somewhere where people would have gone to seek refuge from their normal lives, traveling hundreds of miles through the air for a taste of warm waters, lush, humid life. The thought brought Reno back to his father. - he loved to travel, too, albeit on a smaller scale.

A long time ago, when the summers were pleasant, he'd take Reno and his sister camping in the mountains...

...He'd watch his children complain about the mud on their legs, the scratch of thorns and nettles, and laugh, until they yelled at him for his teasing. But soon enough they'd forget about their woes, distracted by the sight of a beaver in these northeastern forests. Or was it just a rock? He loved that curiosity in them, cajoled and urged the pair to get closer, to see what else they could find in the little creek. They'd always take their time to the campsite, as if he wanted them to see every stone, every leaf and branch the forest had to offer.

Their unhappiness would only return much later, when the trio would perch themselves around a campfire, marshmallow-sticky and shrouded in smoke. His daughter would shriek, startled by the flapping wings of an insect, and his son would follow suit, leaping to get as far away from his sister as possible. He would sigh, console them, and wave the little moth away.

"They're harmless," he'd tell them. But they weren't having any of it.

"It's creepy." His son said. He pointed at the fire. "Look at them all." Their father watched the crowd of moths for a moment as they flitted through the firelight.

"Do you remember our home?" He asked them, suddenly.

They were confused. "Of course we do. We were just there this morning."

He smiled. "Not the city. Before we came to the mainland." They shook their heads, hesitantly. "No? Well, there's a saying from the islands, about the moth."

His son had already returned this attention to the dripping marshmallows. "Cool, I guess."

He smiled. "It is. There's a special kind of moth with dark wings. They call it the black witch moth." His children looked up at him again, his little reference to the supernatural, the mysterious, enticing.

He continued. "They say that when a black wing moth comes to visit, it's really somebody saying goodbye.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well, it's not literally someone. But it's their spirit. If someone in your life passes away - has to go - then the sight of the moth means that they're checking up on you - that they miss you and want to say hello, or goodbye."

There was a silence only broken by the snapping fire. Then his daughter spoke. "Was that moth just Mom saying hello?"

He shrugged. "Maybe it was."

His daughter winced, pointing at the ground. "I hope not. I kinda smushed her, then."

There was a lot of laughter as their father looked at them, holding the moment in his mind like a photograph.

He wanted them to love the world around them, to treasure it once it was gone.