The jarring roar of the rescue helicopter was a brutal assault on Michael's senses, a stark contrast to the whispering winds and primal silence of Lian Yu. As strong hands helped him aboard, his eyes, though gaunt and shadowed, darted with a keen, almost unnerving awareness. He took in the concerned faces of the rescue team, the hushed urgency in their voices, the way their gazes flickered between him and his brother, Oliver, whose hardened stare remained fixed on the receding, emerald hellscape.
Moira Queen's tearful embrace on the tarmac was tight, almost desperate. "Michael! Oh, Michael! My son!" she sobbed, clutching him as if he might vanish again.
Michael returned the embrace, his voice surprisingly steady, though tinged with a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion. "Mother," he murmured, "I'm back."
Oliver stood stiffly beside them, his own reunion with Moira more restrained. Walter Steele approached, his face etched with relief and concern. "Oliver, Michael... thank God you're both safe. The city... it's been a long five years."
Oliver's reply was terse, his gaze still distant. "It's time to come home."
Michael, however, offered a slightly different perspective, his voice quiet but carrying an unexpected weight. "Home has a way of changing while you're away, Walter. One must learn to read the new landscape."
During the initial medical examination, Dr. Davies frowned at Michael's vitals. "Your recovery, Mr. Queen... it's accelerated. Almost… unnatural. And these readings..." He gestured to a monitor displaying fluctuating energy levels. "We can't quite explain them."
Michael offered a faint, enigmatic smile. "Perhaps the island has its own peculiar remedies, Doctor."
Later, on the flight back to Starling City, Oliver sat silently, his jaw tight. Moira, her voice still trembling, asked Michael, "What was it like, Michael? Those five years... what did you endure?"
Michael met her gaze, a carefully constructed blend of sorrow and resilience in his eyes. "It was… a harsh teacher, Mother. It strips you bare, forces you to adapt. You learn who you are when everything else is gone." He deliberately omitted the arcane horrors and the forced transformation that now defined him.