She stares at him angrily, seething at his lack of an answer. He is broken, and sad, and smaller than he's ever been. His absolute certainty has drained out, bled out; his face is turning green. "I was wrong. About Earth." Kara nods, finally strong enough to tell him prophecies he doesn't know. "Your Hybrid told me something. Said that I was the harbinger of death. That I would lead us all to our end." Leoben jerks, hushed and stumbling, back and away from this truth. She's replaced the cloud of unknowing with a maelstrom. "She told you that?" Kara asks him if it's true, but he has already begun to run. Not from what she is, or what she is become, but from the fact of her, the fact that they're sitting in the center of a death he didn't even know about. He's gone. She's screaming at no one, face twisting. "Is it true? If that's me lying there, then what am I? What am I? What am I?"
On the beach, the universe is tuning up as Sam wanders, pulled along by music; he follows himself to a guitar's neck, half-buried in the sand, and their song begins to play again. Sam stares around, holding it faithfully, grinning excitedly. A piece of the past. Earth is broken, burnt and used, but the Final Five haven't even had this much home since the Nebula. Every answered question, every memory, is more beautiful than it is sad, because it means some kind of continuity. A firm place to stand, finally, no matter how ugly or tired it is. He sings softly, words of the song he'd forgotten. The hour is getting late. He drops the neck, and runs off excitedly to tell the others. To share even this strange piece of home, and what it means.
Galen rests in a niche against the wall where he died. He looks peaceful, that funny peace he brings when things are at their darkest. Sam asks if he's remembering, and Galen nearly smiles. "Yeah. I used to live here." Sam nods, and turns to include Tory as she approaches. "Me too. That song that switched us on? I played it. For a woman I loved." Tory remembers, her voice still sad. "You played it for all of us." Galen points at the shadow on the wall: "That was me."
"We died in a holocaust," Galen says, and Sam's still twitching with excitement. "Then why are we still alive? That happened 2,000 years ago." Tory touches Galen's shadow while Sam jumps around. "How did we get to the Colonies? Come to think that we were human? 2,000 years is a long time to forget..." Galen looks at the sky, lost to memory; Tory looks at the ground, close to Sam but not touching. They are all alone, together.