It's over. It being over almost doesn't make sense to Grif. He knew, intellectually, that it would be over one day, but not what that day was going to feel like. Or what looking at the glow of all the T-Gates with his red army kit back on was going to feel like.

A bright side of all the activity is he hasn't really had to sit down and think about what all of it means, or (most troublingly) weird superpowered entities that may or may not have been kind of a version of him.

Here, though, it hits him how much has changed. He's still the same person that came through at Phelolu over a year ago, but he's... different. Grif is stronger now. The world is a worthwhile place, and he's can do things in it that matter. He has friends, and even friends like Wash and Tucker matter more and make more sense to him than they did before. He's a worthy human being, and not a lucky fuckup.

...Well. As he looks over the people he's struggled beside, he amends the thought. He is a pretty lucky fuckup. It's safe to admit that inside his own head, now.

He may be going back to a dangerous situation they don't completely understand, but Grif? Grif finally feels equal to it. He's a goddamn superhero, with goddamn superhero friends, and the universe is full of beautiful possibility.

"So," says Grif. "Are you excited, or nah?"