Ten months later... The city was alive again. No more wreckage. No more smoke. Skyscrapers stood tall, shining in the sunlight. Hover-trains glided across the skyline. Drones zipped between towers carrying supplies, newsfeeds, and hope. The destruction that Treant caused scars were now memorials names carved into metal, flames burning eternal. And at the heart of it all was Atlas Vale Industries HQ, now the most advanced center of science, security, and innovation in the entire region. Inside, Atlas stood on a raised platform, watching a simulation of the city's power grid. He wore a suit not armored, but tailored. Sharp. Clean. His mind focused. Atlas said "Everything's stable," his AI assistant reported. "No threat levels above 1%." He exhaled slowly. For the first time in years, the city was safe. Across town, Stella as GirlSteel soared over the skyline, her cape snapping behind her. She dipped low, just above the rooftops, then gently touched down on the balcony of the Hero Command Center a place she helped design. She looked over the city she'd nearly died for. This was her home. And it was finally breathing again. Later that evening, Atlas and Stella sat across from each other at a rooftop café no suits, no missions, no alarm.
"Ten months," she said, stirring her drink.
"Felt like ten years." Atlas replied with a faint grin.
They clinked their glasses gently.
"To peace." she said.
"Let's hope it lasts." .stella.
But as the silence lingered, Stella's gaze sharpened. Her fingers tapped softly on the glass.
"Atlas…" she asked quietly, "You said you changed. You talked about being burned down. You mentioned some place Isle Terra. What is that?"
He froze for a beat. The smile faded, his eyes lowering slightly as a shadow crossed his face.
"…It's where I disappeared when I was 13 Year's old," he began, voice gravelly. "A dimension unlike anything here. Wild. Ancient. Cruel. I didn't land I was thrown into it. No warning. No way back."
Stella leaned in, eyebrows knitting. "How did you survive?"
"I didn't, not really," Atlas said. "Not the version of me you used to know. That place... it tore me apart. I had to hunt, build shelters, fight beasts in the dark things that don't have names here. I drank from moss-covered stones, ate roots and fruits that nearly killed me. I bled… I cried… I screamed into the void."
She looked stunned, silent.
"I missed my parents every day," he continued. "My mom died giving birth to me. My dad died in a car crash when I was eight on his way to walk me to school. Isle Terra was like a second death. But I fought… and I found something. A village. Elves. Magic. And deep in the forest… a Treant 1,000 feet tall. That's where I found it the Mythralite. The key to surviving. The seed to becoming… Ironsoul."
Stella's eyes shimmered. "Why didn't you tell anyone before?"
"Because part of me still doesn't believe I made it out," he said, voice trembling. "I don't know if I'm fully back… or if Isle Terra just followed me here."
Stella reached across the table and gently held his hand.
"You're here now." she whispered. "And I'm not letting you disappear again."
They sat in silence again. Not the empty kind but the kind filled with truth, pain, and something more… something growing..
And for the first time in a long time… they meant it. Alright now we shake things up. The peace doesn't last forever. Let's say somewhere beyond the city, a group of enhanced individuals, survivors of past battles or hidden experiments, begin to rise. Not villains… but people who blame Atlas Vale, the IronSoul, for everything that was lost during the Treants Invasion especially the deaths caused by tech and collateral damage. They want justice… or revenge