If it was cathartic to hit Jonathan Sims, then one must imagine that hitting Elias Bouchard would be a transcendent experience.

Still, Elias watched the flames swarm up and consume the bag, watched the food lose itself into the embers as the logs shifted. Well, it wasn’t a punch, but it certainly made its point. Some things hadn’t changed.

“With this place or your returning?” He laughed under his breath, hands finding their way to his trouser pockets. “Trust me when I say that I have other places that I would really rather be at than this town. As for your own resurrection, I think we both know that Terminus was never my passion project.”

Quite the opposite.

“It’s rather reminiscent of old times with everyone here together. I hope we can find a way to work together.”