Ron stood his ground, a prickle of intuition crawling up his spine. He turned just as Wulkranoth materialized out of thin air.
Ron raised an eyebrow, taking in the other man's attire. "Black gloves? Don't tell me you stepped straight out of an operating room. Though, I have to admit, they pair well with the round glasses and the lab coat."
Wulkranoth offered a thin, enigmatic smile. "Appreciate the sentiment. You're looking rather sharp yourself—all draped in black."
"I try," Ron muttered.
"I recall you used to prefer a crisp white shirt tucked into black pants," Wulkranoth continued, his gaze appraising. "But this—black on black—it suits your frame perfectly. Very imposing."
"Perfect?" Ron questioned, skeptical.
Wulkranoth nodded. "I told you as much back when you were training under me, before your visit to Sami's house. Have you forgotten?"
"Right. It slipped my mind," Ron admitted, his expression softening slightly. "That training... it made a world of difference. Thank you."
"There is no need for thanks," Wulkranoth replied smoothly. "In truth, I should be the one thanking you."
Ron looked at him, puzzled. "Why? You were the teacher. I was just the one trying to survive it."
"The sessions were... mutually beneficial," Wulkranoth said.
Ron let out a short, dry laugh. "I find that hard to believe. Every time we went in to a fight, I ended up unconscious."
Wulkranoth's smile widened. "Exactly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing for you to worry about. Now," Wulkranoth pivoted, his tone becoming professional, "how can I assist you?"
"I need to know about Kevin," Ron said, his voice dropping an octave.
Wulkranoth leaned back slightly, feigning thought. "Kevin? The name doesn't ring a bell."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "You're the one who told me someone from the future timeline had arrived. You told me I had to deal with him."
"Ah, that Kevin. Right." Wulkranoth nodded.
"Tell me everything you have."
"My initial intel suggested he was a rogue element from the future," Wulkranoth explained. "However, my personal research uncovered a different truth: he was a plant. Sent specifically to you by the Fosters."
Ron's jaw tightened. "And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"
"Ron, my friend, I have many things to manage," Wulkranoth said with a casual wave of his hand. "Besides, I considered it a challenge for you—a lesson in accounting for every possible outcome."
Ron exhaled slowly, absorbing the information. "Fine. Where is he now? And where are the Fosters hiding?"
"That, I cannot tell you. The Fosters aren't amateurs; they've been calculating their moves for centuries. They are ghosts in the machine." Wulkranoth's expression turned serious. "I am still tracking them, but you'll have to dig for the specifics yourself. The only thing I know for certain is that their grand plan was thrown into chaos the moment you woke up after eight hundred years."
Ron nodded solemnly. "Once I've dealt with the Fosters, I think it's time I revisited my birthplace. I miss the soil of Bermuda."
Wulkranoth gave him a sharp thumbs-up. "A worthy goal. If you find yourself needing more training, my door is always open. Or, I can send Skelly and the boys to give you a workout."
Ron's eyes drifted toward the horizon. "Why are you doing all this? Why help me at all?"
"We're family, Ron. And family looks out for one another." Wulkranoth smiled, but there was a weight behind the words that made Ron's heart skip a beat.
Before Ron could press him, Wulkranoth turned away. "I have matters to attend to."
Should I tell him? Ron wondered, his hand halfway raised. Can I actually trust this man? He hesitated, deciding to play his cards close to his chest. No. I'll deal with Kevin first.
"Hey," Ron called out. Wulkranoth paused and looked back. Ron mirrored the thumbs-up. "Thanks for the training. Again."
Wulkranoth nodded once, his silhouette flickering before vanishing into nothingness.
Ron stood in the silence for a long moment. Suddenly, he felt it—the heavy, invisible weight of a dozen gazes fixed upon him. He scanned the area, but the landscape was empty.
The people in that meeting... they're waiting?, Ron thought. Without another word, he vanished in a blur of teleportation.
Meanwhile, Wulkranoth reappeared at the head of a massive table.
Azik sat to his right, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of his chair. His mind was racing, stuck on the memory of his first encounter with Ron. Ron had breached their world to take Yardy, and Azik had been humiliated. He had assumed Yardy gave the human access, but the truth was far more unsettling.
"So," Wulkranoth asked, his voice echoing through the nothingness, "where were we?"
One of the council members leaned forward. "My King, there is a question that requires an answer."
"Speak," Wulkranoth commanded.
"It concerns the human, Ron. Who is he to you, truly?"
Wulkranoth didn't hesitate. "Ron? He is a friend. He is family."
A ripple of shock went through the room. A human? A friend to the King? The thoughts of the council members clashed in a silent, telepathic cacophony of disbelief.
Azik stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the void. "Sir, with all due respect, I cannot believe he is worthy of being called your servant, let alone your friend—and certainly not family."
The moment the word 'family' left Azik's mouth, the temperature in the void plummeted.
Wulkranoth turned his head slowly. His gaze was no longer calm; it was a predatory, hostile glare that seemed to swallow the light. Azik's breath hitched in his throat. He began to tremble, a primal fear seizing his heart. Around the table, the other members cowered as the entire infinite void began to shake under the weight of Wulkranoth's killing intent.
Then, as quickly as it began, the pressure vanished. The void steadied.
Wulkranoth spoke, his voice terrifyingly calm. "He is my daughter's husband."
The silence that followed was absolute.
The husband of the Dream?
The King has a son-in-law?
This human... I must taste him for myself, one member thought darkly.
Wulkranoth continued, his eyes locked on Azik, though his words were a warning to everyone present. "You spoke out of ignorance, so I will overlook it this once. But mark my words: if any of you target the man my daughter loves, I will kill you where you sit."
The last four words were whispered, yet they carried the weight of a death sentence.
Azik bowed his head, unable to meet the King's eyes. "Understood, My King."
"Good," Wulkranoth said, his expression returning to a mask of cool indifference. "Let us continue the meeting."