The lab is different.

The whole world is different here. It's all sunshine and warm breeze. Even in the chill of Autumn it's thirty degrees warmer than the frigid blasts that rocked the Surge Steppes in Europe. She called them the [tangent=Sobbing Steppes]Steppe Singhiozzanti[/tangent] on account of the frozen tears that they whipped into her eyes when she went riding. And riding was necessary. Walking for prey. Her go-to on Europe was a Donphan. A sturdy, Steel-Secondary creature that chewed across the tundra like a run-away snow tire.

But Donphan was far away, and so was the ice, and it is a beautiful day in Asper.

The lab is filled with glorious life! With laughter and motion and sweet smells, sugar and sausage and everything brown and sticky. Torino walks over to the desk and picks a half-eaten donut off Bunya's desk. A lesser soul would be afraid of food poisoning, papercuts, or tetanus, but Torino is taking the final step in banishing the old world.

She bites into the room-temperature delicacy and the memories of stale coffee and salt-rations melt like bagged snow-melt.

This is a new world. A better world. A vibrant and different world that she can't wait to drink in like a fizzy panacea. "I'm ready la professa. Give me your wings and questions." She sits down, chewing heaven, her smile as wide as the blue sky overhead.

"Cryogonal," Torino says instantly, memories rising like ice to the top of murky water. The phantom frostbite spreads up her arms. Her limbs are pinned by frigid chains and icicle tears drip from her eyes like pearls. "They are too insistent. I don't like their big ice face and they cry too much."

"I love surprises!" Torino says, and then her eyes narrow. "I don't so much like ambushes. Bandits are not a present to me. I am hoping that there are not so many bandits here."

"Do you go outside in the sunshine every day? It is lucky that your world is so bright and you should cherish it."

Torino opens the ball, and a slow, green monkey appears on Bunya's table. He abruptly sits down on the picture of the Cryogonal. "A Grookey! It has been so long since grass has grown in my Asper. You are a sign of new beginnings! Or dawns soon to come and flowers on the edge of Spring. We will give new life to this place, yes?"

"Sounds like a lot," Grookey says. He pokes at a box of Chinese food with his stick. It tips over, making a mess. "This place smells weird. I miss the jungle."

"We will go see the jungle for you!" Torino says, offering her hand to the little Grookey. Her Gardener powers take hold immediately, and his lush green hair spills out like spinach pasta, tangling across his body until he is almost lost in the carpet of new grass.

"Whoa! Must be all that time in the ball catching up to me." He gets up. Slowly. Like a grandfather after a soccer game. And instead of taking Torino's hand he climbs up her arms with impeccable balance. Grookey settles into her shoulder, his green hair mixing with her pink. "Take me to the jungle. I want fruit."

"And what glorious, beautiful fruit we will find together!" She laughs joyously. "I have almost forgotten what the fruit of this world tastes like. Let us remember together!"