After their brief meeting, Leon and Grace were escorted by auction house attendants to a private room on the top floor. It was much larger than either of them expected.
"This place is bigger than I imagined," Grace commented. Leon nodded in agreement.
Several additional chairs indicated that Mr. Webar and Winston would soon join them. The room offered no direct view of the stage; instead, a large display screen had been mounted on the wall, clearly intended to broadcast the auction live.
"How much do you think the painting will sell for?" Grace asked casually as she took her seat.
"I cannot say for certain, but I expect the bidding to reach into the hundreds of millions," Leon answered, settling into the chair beside her.
The smile on Grace's face told him otherwise. He could already sense that the final bid might far surpass his estimate. Although the painting was essentially a map of the actual cosmos, he doubted any organization would spend more than a few hundred million dollars for something they could not truly exploit. Technologically, they had no means to use it. Anything higher would be unnecessary.
Yet the expression on the telepath's face made it clear something was off.
"I think the price will far surpass that," she said.
"Are you reading their minds?" Leon asked quickly, grasping her hand.
He could not explain it, but he knew that many attendees today would be far from ordinary. Better to avoid drawing attention through psychic probing.
"At least wait until I am prepared, just in case," Leon said calmly.
"I do not understand why you are so cautious. It is just an auction," Grace replied.
Leon turned to face her.
"You and I watched government agencies try to seize that painting. Do you not think they will send top operatives to buy it here? And if the government considers it useful, do you not think other powerful mutants, or people with abilities like ours, might want it too?"
She fell silent. He was right, and they both knew it.
He retrieved the pen he carried and studied it. Part of him wanted to give himself the Aquila tattoo again. But that would send a message, an unnecessary challenge to any potential threat.
The Aquila was not suitable as a temporary tattoo anyway. The way it burned out proved that much.
"Give me your hand," Leon said.
"Why? What are you planning?" Grace asked, though she still extended her arm.
"I was saving this for tomorrow with proper ink, but you might as well have an early gift," he said.
"What is it?"
"A sigil. It will help stabilize your telepathy, increase your resistance to mental attacks, and allow your powers to grow faster and with greater precision," Leon explained as he began drawing on her arm.
This design was also not ideal for temporary use, but as it was a supporting enhancement for the mind, it should last significantly longer.
"That sounds like a lot. Are you sure it won't knock you out?" Grace asked, her brows creasing with concern.
Leon only smiled. He had tested ideas like this many times.
Enhancement tattoos did not overtax him. They merely amplified abilities he already possessed. The Qubit tattoo, for instance, strengthened his intelligence. It did not give him new powers. As long as the tattoo reinforced existing traits, he could handle it.
His hands moved with unwavering precision as the sigil took form.
It was a combined pattern made of three symbolic elements:
• The Eye of Horus for protection and restoration
• The Celtic Triskelion for balance and motion
• The Lotus for purity and enlightenment
Together, they formed a foundation for a telepath stronger than any natural gift. For psychics, everything was determined by their foundation. Potential and direction both stemmed from the base.
"No, at worst I might feel a little tired. It is not permanent, after all," Leon reassured her.
"If you say so," Grace replied quietly.
Leon chuckled at her concern and continued drawing. Fatigue crept in as his mental stamina was drained, but he kept his movements steady.
People called mutants "freaks," but did any of them ever stop to appreciate the sheer wonder of what they could accomplish? This was just a simple temporary tattoo, no different in form from what children doodled every day. Yet through that medium, he could grant someone extraordinary power.
"Okay, finished," Leon said, letting out a tired yawn.
"See? I told you. You already used the Aquila today. Of course you're exhausted," Grace said, playfully punching his shoulder.