"I mean, cut me some slack," Marcus Hale said, scratching the back of his head. "It's my first time traveling this far. First flight, too."
Lewis Grant gave him a sideways look. "That explains why you've been vibrating since dawn."
Marcus laughed it off. He hadn't left the institute once in fifteen years. Taken in as a child, trained relentlessly, routine carved into bone. This trip marked the first time the world beyond familiar walls had opened up to him.
"We've got time before boarding," Grant said. "Let's eat."
Marcus glanced at the terminal prices and grimaced. "Never mind. That's robbery."
"I'm paying," Rowan Mercer said calmly.
Marcus brightened instantly. "Well then. I accept."
After a quick meal, the three boarded their flight south. By the time they landed and made their way through connecting transport, it was nearing eleven when they arrived at the old town near Mount Longridge. The streets were packed with tourists, souvenir stalls, and camera flashes, all of it loud and mundane.
Marcus stared at the ticket booth in disbelief. "Two hundred and sixty per person? Our place charges almost nothing."
"That's the tourism board," Grant said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Most of it doesn't even go to the institute. Compared to this, our home base has far more autonomy."
Rowan nodded. Cheap access meant fewer eyes. Fewer eyes meant freedom. Here, the front grounds were effectively a theme park. The real work happened elsewhere.
"There are trade-offs," Rowan said. "Visibility brings resources. Control brings peace."
They made their way uphill. Not far from the entrance, a small crowd had gathered around a familiar figure posing cheerfully for photos with visiting officials.
Grant stopped short. "That's him."
The Old Master.
Publicly smiling, casually flashing a peace sign, he looked like a harmless elder enjoying the attention. Privately, he was acknowledged as the most dangerous enhanced individual in the country. Possibly the world.
Grant approached first, offering a respectful greeting. Marcus and Rowan followed.
The Old Master turned, eyes sharp despite the grin. "Grant. How's your teacher these days?"
"Healthy," Grant replied. "Still complains. Still trains."
"Good," the Old Master said, stroking his white beard. "Means he's not done yet."
His gaze shifted to Rowan.
Grant made the introductions. "A friend of ours. Independent. Trained overseas."
"Overseas?" The Old Master's eyes flicked to the wand at Rowan's side. "Ah. Wizard, then."
Rowan inclined his head slightly. "I studied abroad for a few years."
The Old Master chuckled. "London, I assume. I visited the academy there once. Knew the headmaster. Odd fellow. Still obsessed with hobbies instead of administration?"
Rowan blinked, then smiled. "Last I heard, yes."
"Figures." The Old Master waved dismissively. "Tell him he's welcome here anytime."
"I will," Rowan said.
They parted on cordial terms, Grant leading Marcus toward the restricted path that wound into the undeveloped mountainside where registration was being handled.
After a few steps, Rowan stopped.
"You two go ahead," he said. "I'll catch up later. I want to look around."
Grant nodded without question. Marcus barely noticed, already distracted by the surroundings.
Once they were gone, Rowan turned back toward the crowds.
Something tugged at his attention.
Near one of the stalls, a girl crouched on the pavement, arguing excitedly with a street vendor dressed like a monk. The scene was ridiculous. The pitch even more so.
Rowan barely heard the words.
What mattered was the pressure.
The energy inside her was dense. Vast. Shockingly so.
Not refined like the Old Master's. Not controlled. But in raw quantity, it wasn't far behind.
Rowan frowned.
That shouldn't have been possible.
She looked ordinary. Young. Distracted. And yet what he felt inside her eclipsed nearly everyone he'd met since arriving in this world.
The vendor launched into an increasingly absurd sales pitch. The girl, eyes shining, pulled out a wad of cash without hesitation.
Rowan stared.
Then blinked.
"…Did I misjudge?" he muttered.
Either his senses had glitched.
Or this place was far stranger than he'd anticipated.
He decided to stay and find out.