“Gate” was an appropriate word for the exit, he concluded. From a distance, it looked like a regular metal door, but seeing the sheer size of it up close had made him reconsider. It was over ten meters tall, Finn’s power told him. And the ease with which Gunther opened it was his second instance of witnessing the level of power this man possessed. He’d come to know plenty of people who could do something similar, but there was something about this display in particular that told him his new travel companion was on a different level.

  The first clue was Gunther’s stance. Casual, yet masterful all the same. He settled both hands on the surface and pushed. Slow, firm, inexorable. The door gave way, unable to bar this juggernaut from entering. It swung open once it gained momentum, though it didn’t slam into the wall of the massive hallway beyond; this facility was too well designed for that.

  Another clue was the way he saw the man’s physiology shift. He’d already noted how it was distinct from warrior type powers, but now he saw what exactly the difference was. This kind of strength was more human. Or to put it another words, the musculoskeletal structure didn’t deviate as much from a baseline human. It was just more compact. And perhaps there was an unseen supernatural element working to aid that physical power. Scientifically, generating that much force with this kind of body should be impossible in both cases.

  Regardless of how the underlying mechanics worked, Finn could tell he was in the presence of a truly experienced fighter. Everything from the way he walked to the way he spoke radiated battlefield know-how. His assessing gaze had been obvious the moment he’d dragged Finn to land. Measuring him. Seeing how much of a threat he was and ultimately concluding he wasn’t one.

  That implicit dismissal of his personal power and capabilities would’ve irritated him far more than any insult from Mountpin ever could if he’d had the energy for it. He didn’t, however. So here they were, walking through the sterile white hallway in silence.

  Despite feeling like a corpse held together by nothing but willpower and self-deception, this detail did not escape Finn. Every part of the facility that he could sense was clean. Too clean. Not even in the way a mundane building would look to his power after it had gone through a round of cleaning. No, this was something else. Normal, unpowered hands were incapable of scouring every last microscopic bit of dirt from a single room, let alone a whole building.

  And he couldn’t sense a speck of dust in his entire sphere of influence, nor were there any signs of contamination or impurity in that body of water he’d just been pulled out of. It gave the whole area a polished feeling. He didn’t find it reassuring in the slightest.

  He also didn’t know where Gunther had gotten that clothing. He assumed it wasn’t from Earth. It would look out of place just about anywhere, if he was being honest. That said, it did look well-designed. Just foreign. The sleeveless, dark red fabrics swaddled the man’s torso enough to make it look like he was wearing an additional layer of clothing underneath, and the… he couldn’t call them pants. The fabric covering the legs had a weird cut to them that forewent one leg almost entirely, while the other left the shin bare. Shoes were apparently not a consideration. Though granted, that shouldn’t have surprised Finn given that he was looking at someone who could literally walk on air.

  Of course, he voiced none of these thoughts. They weren’t a priority. Not even close. He was just familiarizing himself with the environment until he felt fit enough to continue the conversation. Then he scratched that thought, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t going to feel better than this, ever. Unless he managed to find a cure to Viperia’s poison.

  Rather than thinking about that further, as he’d already resolved himself in every way that mattered, he briefly allowed his thoughts to drift to the possible circumstances that would have led to his current predicament. From what he could gather, the crystal in his pocket was responsible for bringing him here, and he’d triggered it by accident in the explosion.

  Upon taking the crystal from that storage supply, he hadn’t expected anything like this. He’d thought this item would allow him to gain insights about his power if he managed to figure out how to penetrate that impossibly vast inner space. That hadn’t happened. Instead it was a way to Wanderlust’s dimension. Finn didn’t know what the supervillain would want with that before the next room came into his range.

  His eyes widened.

  Gadgets, items, weapons, pills, all moving around. Or being moved around, rather. By robots, levers, mobile platforms, floating drones, sensors and cameras guiding the entire process. It was like a well-oiled machine, every step planned out with purpose and intention. But the tempos weren’t consistent. As if everything was following orders, not performing tasks at specific predetermined intervals.

  Was there an intelligence behind this? There was no way for him to know for sure. Then he focused on the actual products being transported and almost froze in shock. He recognized them. The vast majority of them, he could recall the name and price of. Why wouldn’t he be able to?

  They were from the Aegis store.

  The implications of that were a shock, to say the least. Did that mean he was observing the Aegis store from the other ends, right now? No, that couldn’t be it. There were a lot of things here, but not even close to all the things he’d seen. While that could have meant the other items were in other rooms, he doubted it.

  Aegis Corp. was a decentralized mercenary organization for hero work, but here was its founder, stacked with rooms providing the items from his own exclusive dimension. Aside from the fact that it would go against the purported mission of the organization to have a monopoly on its most appealing aspect, it wasn’t something anyone could hide forever. Anonymity aside, there was no way that kind of conspiracy could stay hidden with the powers some people around the world possessed.

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  Additionally, the founder was dead. Therefore, nothing that came here could leave, including the gadgets, unless someone bought them. That was bad for business. Or there was someone here? On second thought, Finn didn’t know all the variables at play. But that element of mystery might be the answer to his earlier question.

  Perhaps Viperia had thought that there existed a chance she could extract whatever it was she needed to cure her son from this place, and hadn’t been sure it would work, resulting in her holding off on that plan and storing the only way to get here for later, in one of her warehouses.

  More and more, he started to get the impression that he was right, then dismissed that train of thought entirely. It didn’t matter if he was right. Viperia was a thing of the past, and no amount of complaining or retrospective analysis was going to get him out of here.

  He was about to latch onto something else to keep his mind occupied, but Gunther broke the silence. “What do you bring to the table, kid?” he asked without looking back, tone more probing than casual.

  “I control colors,” Finn replied simply, not having to ask for elaboration. “I can make signals, track things, camouflage myself, block out lights, that sort of thing. You?”

  “For now, I’m strong. Durable. But it’s good to know you’ve got some tricks. Utility’s nice. Could’ve been handier if this place were actually meant to get lost in. At least then, the way out would’ve been simple.” He finally glanced over his shoulder, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Still, doesn’t matter. I’ve got my way.”

  “So what’s your plan?”

  “To show you why I don’t need one.”

  With that, they continued on, spending a solid three minutes approaching the next room. Every step sent fire up his nerves, straining his injured body. It was becoming a fight to even stay upright, and while the deterioration had slowed enough for him to survive a few more hours, there was no telling how much longer he was going to be able to stand. With the adrenaline having completely faded, all movements were pure pain. He didn’t even have it in him to scream or grunt, knowing that would only strain his chest. Never mind that it wouldn’t endear him to the other person stranded in this world.

  Trying to cover up his limp, he asked, “How did you end up here?”

  “Same as you, I’d wager: not on purpose.” And that was it. Gunther’s tone made it clear he wasn’t about to say anything more on the topic.

  They remained quiet for a few more moments before Gunther said, “To save myself a long-winded explanation, I’m going to show you what we’re up against. This is a different kind of opponent. Not human, not primebeast. The kind that you’re not going to encounter anywhere else.” He stopped and pushed the next door open. “Go ahead and see for yourself.”

  Finn watched with bated breath for all of two seconds. He strode past Gunther to enter the room at a brisk walk—since he couldn’t run—and looked around. It was a massive space with items that had always been far out of his price range placed around him, ones that wouldn’t take more than a few seconds to reach and grab.

  At that point he was hit by a realization. He couldn’t sense anything stopping him from just grabbing an item that could cure him. That healing tank? The surgery bot? He could survive until he went back and saw everyone again! Mom, Lyra, Jack, everyone…

  What had Gunther said about an opponent? He couldn’t see anything. Did that mean they were watching remotely? He blacked out every sensor in his range, which didn’t cover the whole room but should hide him from sight. None of the machinery stopped, stuttered, or otherwise acknowledged his interruption.

  Weird, but he was sure no one else was in the room. None of the machines were making noise. So he took a few loud steps towards the first revitalization pill box he spotted. Wouldn’t cure him on its own, but it would be a start. Nothing out of the ordinary happened as he approached it. No secret lasers, guns, bombs. He walked by unimpeded. Meanwhile, Gunther was watching him curiously.

  His arm extended to grab it, and when it was a finger length away, something happened. A liquid white mass formed out of nowhere and blocked him from reaching it. He almost stumbled back, catching himself at the last moment. It wasn’t more than that. Just the formless blob, preventing his hand from grabbing the pills.

  Retracting his limb was easy. It didn’t try to keep him there. He looked down at his hand for any residue, but there was none. He didn’t know if that was good or bad yet. Unsure whether he should push it, Finn looked back at Gunther, finding the man motioning for him to continue.

  So he pushed, reaching out a hand and doing his best to press as much force into the milky mass as he could.

  He was blown back so fast he couldn’t even register it, coughing on the ground and grunting in pain involuntarily. He couldn’t help it, his body had already reached its limit and he kept asking it to do more. But he needed to get back home. He had people to get back to. He had a goal he needed to achieve. It couldn’t end here.

  With even greater effort than the previous time, he pushed himself up, gritting his teeth and getting his feet under him in an impressively short window, if one took into account the state of his body. Something his opponent didn’t need to do.

  His senses saw the fluid white barrier drip to the cold floor, forming a puddle that grew and grew. More mass kept getting added even when the entire thing was already spent. Drops formed from thin air, he could perceive it clear as day.

  It wasn’t even done. The puddle began to change, contracting and rising into an elongated shape, eventually starting to resemble a humanoid. It rose, solidifying into the form of a monochrome, featureless man. Completely white, and no eyes. But Finn knew he had its attention, prompting him to draw his staff and—

  The top half clattered to the ground, a cacophony in the otherwise silent room. The shape-shifting obstacle had a limb raised parallel to the ground, its hand morphed into a blade. Finn’s hand trembled as he observed the unnaturally clean cut on the remains of what had been a reliable weapon for months. This thing had rendered it useless in an instant. A literal instant. No hyperbole; he hadn’t even seen it move. Like an animation where you saw the image skip from one frame to the next.

  “Not human, not primebeast.”

  Ironically, he found that his power was perfectly capable of affecting this thing. Unlike any of the opponents he had ever faced before. He could make it any color of the rainbow, and he did, trying to render it blind, disorient it, whatever was required to break through or bypass it. On the other side was his ticket to survival.

  It was not to be. Because he had met it.

  Finn had met the guardian.

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