Work Text:
There were worse ways to meet the heroes.
Four repeated the mantra minute after minute, hour after hour. There were worse ways.
Running into them as a minish? Just a small, fixable problem, given access to a portal. Split into four? More new faces for everyone. Secrets he’d held close to his chest for so long felt trivial now. But in a new era, without his sword?
Shoved into Wind’s backpack, rapidly running out of air as he scrambled at the edges of a corked glass bottle, he repeated:
There were worse ways.
Four struggled to come up with one.