With the Originats getting down to business, Ash found himself in quite the situation.
It was one he knew had been coming yet, it still irritated him greatly.
It had only been a few hours since this second event began, with only a few thousand people going up—the stage.
Yet, in the last thirty minutes more people had approached him than had been on the stage—prodigies drifting over on hovering cushions, auras flaring subtly in forced friendliness, eyes gleaming with calculated interest as they circled his group like cautious predators.
Why?
Of course, it was because of their leaders—they wanted to know more about Ash: who he was, what he was, and where he came from.
Anything and everything came with people trying to forge fake connections—smiles too wide, compliments too practiced, hands offered in alliances that stank of opportunism.
