5:30 PM – 30 Minutes Until Takeoff

  After the late morning rush and the tedious process of providing documentation, security checks, and endless waiting, most of the day had passed in a haze.

  Now, Luke and Dawn stood near the gate, scanning the airport terminal with growing irritation.

  “Where the hell is Chris?” Dawn muttered, arms crossed tightly.

  “He went to the bathroom,” Luke said. His voice was flat, but his fingers drummed against his leg impatiently. “An hour ago.”

  The words hung in the air between them.

  Dawn huffed. “He should’ve known better than to disappear today of all days.”

  Luke didn’t respond. He was already running through possibilities in his mind. Chris might’ve just gotten distracted, lost track of time. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  But after last night’s events, that excuse didn’t sit right.

  Their flight was about to leave.

  And Chris was nowhere in sight.

  A Late Arrival

  Chris strolled up grinning like an idiot, a half-eaten pizza box in hand like he'd just won the lottery.

  "Where the hell have you been?" Dawn snapped, her arms still crossed, her foot tapping.

  Chris held up the pizza proudly. "Had to grab some food. Figured we could use it after last night."

  Luke's frustration melted the moment the smell hit him. His stomach twisted—he hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. Without hesitation, he snagged a slice and took a bite. Dawn, still glaring, hesitated for half a second before grabbing a piece herself.

  Chris plopped into a seat between them, taking another massive bite. "Man, I’m always hungry, but after yesterday?" He shook his head. "I think that was the hungriest I’ve ever been."

  Luke and Dawn exchanged a glance.

  Now that he mentioned it, they felt the same way. It wasn’t just stress. The fight, the weird glowing marks, the tension—it had drained them. Maybe they'd burned through more energy than they realized. Or maybe… maybe it was something else.

  Neither of them said anything. They just kept eating.

  It wasn’t until the pizza was nearly gone that Chris finally leaned back and asked, "So, uh... the money you liberated from the coin game. You still got it?"

  Luke paused mid-chew.

  The way Chris phrased it made it sound noble. Liberated. Like he'd done some kind of public service instead of nearly getting them all killed. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, I still have it."

  Chris let out a relieved breath, looking satisfied. "Good. 'Cause after all that, I’d hate to think we did it for nothing."

  Luke frowned, suddenly feeling a little foolish.

  That money had caused way more trouble than it was worth. But still, giving it back didn’t make sense either. They didn’t deserve it.

  Dawn set her crust down and leaned forward, her voice low.

  "What happened yesterday... seriously. What was that?" She eyed Luke. "What’d you steal, three hundred bucks? That’s not worth killing over. They probably make that in a few hours, easy."

  A heavy silence settled over them.

  Because deep down, they all knew… this wasn’t just about the money.

  Luke finally broke the silence.

  “It was you, Dawn. Believe it or not.”

  Dawn raised an eyebrow, chewing the last bite of crust. “What?”

  Luke set his slice down, suddenly not feeling as hungry anymore. “Did my stupid move at the coin game piss them off? Sure. But that woman already had you pegged—she was following us from the start.”

  Dawn frowned. “That’s—”

  “She was there before I lifted the wallet,” Luke cut in, voice firm. “I didn’t even notice until she wanted me to. I think the coin game was her way of testing me, and I’m pretty sure I failed. But you, Dawn?” He leaned forward. “They already had you marked. Our fate was decided long before I stole their wallets. Before you beat that gladiator.”

  Dawn didn’t say anything.

  Chris, who had been idly picking at the crusts left in the box, suddenly looked up. “Wait, so... you’re saying she knew Dawn was gonna be a badass? Before she even fought?”

  “I don’t know what she knew,” Luke admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But I do know she was watching us. And I do know she wasn’t looking at me—at least, not until I got her attention. It was Dawn she was following.”

  Dawn exhaled, shaking her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. If this was about me, then why were you the one she called a thief?”

  Luke gave her a dry look. “I was a thief.”

  Chris snorted. “A very successful thief.”

  Luke ignored him. “Think about it, Dawn. What if the whole thing—our fight, the scam, even the coin game—was just a way to see what we’d do? And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t me they were really after.”

  Dawn stared at him for a long moment. “So what? You think that gladiator was in on it too?”

  Luke hesitated, then sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe he was coming after you for revenge. Maybe he just picked the wrong alley for a break and Chris here gave him a diving headbutt to the ribs.”

  Chris grinned proudly. “One-hit KO, baby.”

  Dawn groaned. “You landed on the guy, Chris.”

  “Exactly.”

  Luke shook his head, ignoring them both. “Point is, this wasn’t some random street scam gone wrong. That woman was watching us. And she wasn’t alone.”

  The weight of his words settled over them.

  Dawn crossed her arms, staring down at the floor as if the answers were hidden in the tile.

  Chris just blinked, still catching up.

  Luke, sensing that Dawn was almost convinced, pushed on.

  "If this was about the coin game, then tell me this—why did the girl who won chase me instead of the guy I robbed?"

  Dawn hesitated.

  Luke pressed further. "Why did she have a magic hairpiece? And why did she say she was gonna ‘train or drain’ you? Not me. You."

  Dawn’s frown deepened.

  "The wiry guy said it himself," Luke continued. "She was interested in you. After your fight. The same fight where I saw you glow—"

  Dawn shot him a doubtful look.

  Chris, still catching up, blinked in confusion.

  But before anyone could respond, the intercom chimed, and a clear, robotic voice announced the next boarding group.

  They gathered their bags and moved toward the gate in silence.

  The past 180 years had seen staggering advancements in computing, AI, and transportation. Quantum computing had revolutionized consumer tech in the 2030s, and by now, it was integrated into every vehicle on the planet. Every car, plane, and boat utilized quantum GPS and AI pilots that calculated the most efficient routes and speeds in real time.

  Their plane, for example, was more akin to an ICBM programmed to land safely than a traditional passenger aircraft. With VTOL technology, airports no longer needed massive runways—just designated landing platforms.

  Boarding was quick and efficient, and soon, they were settled into their private four-person cabin.

  It was just the three of them.

  Luke leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice.

  "Fine, sis," he said, watching Dawn closely. "So you doubt me when I say you glowed—"

  Dawn scoffed.

  Luke ignored it.

  "But maybe you’ll believe me when I tell you," he continued, "I could see your ability. That thing you did, spotting the weak points in their weapons? I saw it, too."

  Dawn’s smirk faltered.

  Luke wasn’t done.

  "You saw what happened to the shield, Dawn. That wasn't normal."

  Dawn’s fingers tightened around the armrest.

  Because whether she wanted to admit it or not… Luke wasn’t wrong.

  Chris sighed dramatically, stretching his arms behind his head. “Man, this trip is getting way w

  eirder than I signed up for.”

  Dawn scowled, arms crossed tight. “Yeah? Try living it.”

  Chris didn’t bother waiting for more debate. He slid lower into his seat, pulled his hoodie up, and closed his eyes. “You guys wake me up when we’re there,” he muttered. Within minutes, he was asleep.

  Luke, however, wasn’t done talking.

  “You really don’t remember feeling something?” he asked, watching Dawn closely.

  Dawn’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know, okay?”

  Luke raised an eyebrow.

  She exhaled sharply through her nose. “Look, maybe I did. Maybe I felt something.” Her hands clenched against her arms. “But I wasn’t thinking about weird energy or glowing or whatever the hell you’re on about. I was fighting.”

  Luke sat back, thoughtful.

  Dawn shifted under his gaze, rubbing a hand across her face. “You’re still stuck on it, huh?”

  Luke didn’t answer immediately. He turned his gaze toward the window instead, watching the sky streak past in a blur of deep blues and soft oranges.

  “…It felt old,” he said finally. “Like something ancient was trying to wake up inside of me.”

  Dawn let out a short, humorless laugh. “Great. So, what, you’re possessed now?”

  Luke gave her a look. “I’m serious.”

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  Dawn shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Jesus Christ…”

  He didn’t let up. “You think it has anything to do with Dad?”

  Dawn stiffened.

  Luke pressed on. “I mean, what if—what if this isn’t just about us? What if this ties into him? His work? His life?”

  “…Or his death,” Dawn murmured.

  Luke nodded slowly.

  They both sat with that thought for a moment.

  Dawn suddenly leaned forward, gripping her hair. “God, I hate this.”

  Luke waited.

  She slammed her head back against the seat. “Every time I think I have my life figured out—” She gestured wildly. “—something stupid happens! First, Dad dies, and we’re just supposed to deal with it. Then Mom—” Her throat caught, but she pushed past it. “Then Mom lost her mind, and now I’m supposed to believe I’m glowing in the middle of a fight? And some rando in an alley wants to drain me for it?”

  Luke let her vent.

  Dawn scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re the logical one. Tell me. Does this make any goddamn sense to you?”

  Luke rubbed his temples. “No.”

  Dawn threw up her hands. “See?!”

  “…But it feels real.”

  Dawn froze.

  Luke looked at her steadily. “You felt something. Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but you know I’m right.”

  Dawn swallowed hard, looking away.

  Silence.

  “…If Mom wasn’t like this,” she finally muttered, voice quieter now, “she might have answers.”

  Luke sighed. “Yeah. But who knows if we’d get her or one of her other selves?”

  Dawn let out a bitter laugh. “Right. So, what, we just figure this out ourselves?”

  “Looks like it.”

  Dawn groaned, dropping her head back.

  The conversation lulled, both of them lost in thought.

  Eventually, exhaustion caught up to them.

  Luke’s head dipped back against his seat. Dawn pulled her hoodie over her eyes.

  And for the first time in over a day, they both slept.

  it was sometime later when Chris stirred, mumbling something under his breath.

  Luke cracked one eye open. “What?”

  Chris shifted, rubbing his face. “Mmm…mystery meat…”

  Dawn let out a snort. “Oh, great. He’s dreaming about food.”

  Chris smacked his lips, still half-asleep. “Best damn sandwich I ever had…”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “You mean the one you took two bites of before getting kidnapped?”

  Chris frowned, eyes still closed. “...Yeah.”

  Dawn smirked. “I thought you were traumatized by yesterday.”

  Chris yawned, stretching. “I am. But you don’t just forget a sandwich like that, man. That thing was perfect. Softest bread, spiced just right, and the meat—God, the meat. Like some ancient, forgotten recipe from the gods themselves.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you got jumped before you could finish it, so clearly it wasn’t that divine.”

  Chris finally opened his eyes. “No, that’s what’s killing me, man. What was it? I never got to ask.” He paused, looking genuinely troubled. “Dude…what if it was, like, something crazy? What if I ate some illegal space animal or—”

  Dawn laughed. “You had one bite. You’re acting like you lost a lifelong friend.”

  Chris sighed dramatically. “I’ll never know.” He turned to Luke. “Bro, this is gonna haunt me.”

  Luke smirked. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

  Chris placed a solemn hand over his chest. “Will I, Luke? Will I?”

  Dawn rolled her eyes and shoved him. “Shut up and grab your bag, drama queen. We’re home.”

  Chris grumbled, but obeyed.

  As they gathered their things, the intercom crackled.

  "Passengers, please proceed to the exit gate."

  Luke slung his backpack over one shoulder. Dawn adjusted her duffel strap.

  Chris took one last, longing glance at the airplane seat. “Goodbye, mystery sandwich. We shall never meet again.”

  Luke pushed him toward the aisle. “Let’s go, idiot.”

  Stepping off the plane, they felt the shift immediately.

  Austin wasn’t just home—it was one of the most technologically advanced cities in the world.

  Italy had its timeless beauty, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the ruins of Pompeii—but those places were relics, preserved like museum exhibits. The ancient districts clung to the past, while Austin had raced ahead.

  Here, technology shaped everything.

  Without thinking, all three of them reached for their holo-watches, securing them onto their wrists.

  The slim, translucent bands lit up, displaying a flickering interface.

  In Italy, outside of the tourist centers, the watches had been little more than glorified phones. But here?

  They were essential.

  Bank accounts, IDs, transit access, apartment keys all tied to the device. Lose your watch, and you might as well not exist.

  Chris sighed, rolling his wrist as his watch synced to the city’s network.

  “Man… I forgot how fast everything loads here.”

  Dawn checked hers, making sure it was fully activated. “Yeah. No more digging for cash or scanning IDs.”

  Luke did the same, watching as his display scrolled through notifications. Even the security checkpoints were automated now. Just a scan of your wrist, and you were good to go.

  They walked toward the exit gates, blending seamlessly into the throng of returning travelers.

  But despite the familiar hum of futuristic efficiency, something about being home felt… off.

  And none of them could shake it.

  Victor stood waiting outside, just as he always did, standing tall and unshaken by the chaos of the airport's automated unloading bay.

  Three luggage drones hovered beside him—one for each of them.

  Without a word, all three teens stepped forward, dropping their bags onto their respective drones. The moment the weight was registered, the small, sleek machines whirred to life and began following Victor’s lead toward the car.

  A low, collective sigh of relief left them.

  They were home.

  Maybe not in the comforting, nostalgic way it should’ve felt—but at least they weren’t in a place where gladiators and street gangs with magic weapons were after them.

  They climbed into the sleek, black vehicle waiting in the loading zone—one of the city’s top-tier autonomous luxury cars.

  Victor took his seat up front, barely acknowledging them beyond the usual courteous nod.

  The doors sealed shut with a quiet hiss, the cabin **soundproofed, temperature-controlled—**every bit of it calculated for maximum comfort.

  And then they were moving.

  Or rather, flying.

  Luke let out a low whistle as the car shot into traffic, accelerating to 150 miles per hour within seconds.

  The speed was impressive, but nothing unusual.

  Every vehicle in Austin—hell, in most major cities—had been upgraded with Quantum AI Drivers.

  Traffic accidents? A thing of the past.

  Every car, truck, and transport worked in perfect harmony, each one preemptively adjusting course in real-time, swerving through impossibly tight gaps, never touching another vehicle.

  Luke smirked, leaning back in his seat. “You know…” he mused, glancing at Chris. “These past few days have kinda sucked. Coming home isn’t the exciting return and relief it usually is.”

  Chris snorted. “No kidding.”

  Dawn, staring out the window, said nothing.

  Luke continued, his smirk widening. “But man… am I glad to no longer be in the stone age.”

  Chris barked out a laugh. “I’ll drink to that. If I were old enough. And if Victor wouldn’t tattle.”

  Victor, eyes fixed ahead, remained as silent as ever.

  The city lights flickered past in a blur, neon reflections casting strange shadows across their faces.

  And yet, for all the advancement, all the seamless technology…

  Luke couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything, this city was just as blind as he’d been two days ago.

  They had no idea what was coming.

  The sleek black car glided silently up the long, gated driveway.

  The estate loomed ahead—a sprawling modern mansion with tall glass windows, intricate architecture, and a pristine lawn that stretched further than necessary.

  Chris let out a low whistle. “You know… I always forget how loaded you guys are.”

  Luke barely glanced up from his holo-watch. “We’re not that loaded,” he replied flatly.

  Chris shot him a look. “Dude, come on.”

  Luke shrugged. “Our uncle controls most of our money. We just live in a nice place and have a full house service. I’m not saying we don’t have it made, but it’s not like we’ve got unlimited cash to throw at all our problems like some kids at school.”

  Chris barked out a laugh. “See, you’re funny because you say things like unlimited cash and fix all our problems. Meanwhile, I have zero cash to throw at zero problems.”

  Luke, sensing the golden opportunity, raised an eyebrow. “Zero problems? Zero money? Sounds good. I had some money and several problems. I threw all my money, fixed some, and some remain.”

  He smirked, glancing at Chris.

  “I have it worse. Plus, my dad’s dea—”

  A sharp punch to the shoulder cut him off.

  Luke winced, rubbing the sore spot.

  Dawn glared daggers at him. “It’s not a joke,” she sneered.

  Luke sighed, his smirk fading.

  “Yeah… I know.”

  Chris, sensing the tension, shifted uncomfortably. He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "Hey, uh… I almost forgot," he said, clearly grasping for a distraction. "But tomorrow's your big eighteen, right, Dawny?"

  Dawn shot him a deadpan glare.

  "Don’t call me that."

  Chris grinned, unbothered. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, you got any big plans? Fancy rich girl party? Maybe, I dunno, a new sports car gift-wrapped in the driveway?"

  Dawn snorted, crossing her arms. "Yeah, right. Pretty sure my big gift is just access to some inheritance paperwork and a bunch of responsibilities I don’t want."

  Chris leaned back, grinning. "Man, you really know how to celebrate, huh?"

  Luke, still rubbing his shoulder, gave Dawn a sideways glance. "Actually…"

  She frowned. "What?"

  Luke hesitated, his fingers tapping against his leg as he debated how to say it.

  “It’s about what that guy said back in Rome,” he started. “The one with the cane—who saved our asses.”

  Dawn raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What about it?”

  Luke leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. “We always knew we had some kind of inheritance waiting for us at eighteen, but he knew too. And more than that, he said we should open them as soon as we get home.”

  Dawn rolled her eyes. “So what? Our uncle told him.”

  Luke shook his head. “That’s not

  the part that’s bugging me. The way he said it… It was like we couldn’t wait—like something changed.”

  Chris, who had been half-listening, perked up. “Wait, you mean, like, your uncle changed his mind? Or, like, there’s some secret family thing that’s about to go down?”

  Luke rubbed his chin, thinking. “I don’t know. But the way he phrased it—it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a warning.”

  Dawn crossed her arms. “So what? You think opening our inheritance is gonna drop some massive bombshell on us?”

  Luke’s jaw tightened. “I know something’s up.” He glanced out the window as the mansion loomed closer. “And I don’t think we get to be oblivious anymore.”

  The car glided to a stop at the front entrance, and Victor was already stepping out before the doors even unlocked. The luggage drones hovered patiently behind him, awaiting further instruction.

  The moment Dawn, Luke, and Chris stepped onto the marble walkway, the mansion’s grand entrance loomed before them—tall, modern, and pristine, with massive glass windows reflecting the twilight sky. The sleek, polished double doors slid open automatically, a soft chime welcoming them home.

  Luke barely acknowledged it. He was still replaying everything in his head, still chewing on what the man in Rome had said.

  They weren’t supposed to open their inheritance until they were eighteen. That was the rule.

  But now, suddenly, waiting was no longer an option?

  Dawn exhaled sharply as she stepped inside, rolling her shoulders like she was shedding off the weight of the last few days. “I swear, if one more person gives me cryptic bullshit about our inheritance, I’m punching something.”

  Victor, still as composed as ever, turned back to them. “Your uncle has instructed that you both go to the study immediately.”

  Dawn shot him a flat look. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all.”

  Chris raised an eyebrow. “Wait, isn’t that room always locked?”

  Victor simply nodded.

  Luke exchanged a glance with Dawn.

  The study.

  Their father’s study.

  The room no one had entered since the day Owen died.

  Victor led them through the halls, past towering bookcases, sleek decor, and elegant lighting that cast long shadows over the polished floors. The house was as massive as ever, but right now, it felt impossibly small, like the walls were pressing in with unspoken expectations.

  Chris trailed behind, clearly out of his element. “Sooo, just to be clear… no one’s been in there in, like, years, right?”

  “Not since Dad,” Dawn murmured, eyes locked ahead.

  Luke’s fingers tapped against his leg as they approached the heavy wooden doors. Unlike the rest of the house’s modern aesthetics, the study doors remained untouched—deep mahogany, intricately carved with the same crest that had been on their father’s ring.

  Victor pressed a panel beside the door, and with a quiet click, the locks disengaged.

  Luke swallowed.

  Dawn squared her shoulders.

  Victor pushed the doors open.

  Inside, the study was exactly how they remembered it.

  Dim lighting. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The massive oak desk at the center, untouched, covered in scattered notes, an old-fashioned globe, and a single, neatly placed pen.

  And sitting behind that desk, waiting for them, was Liam.

  Luke stopped cold.

  Chris, however, blinked in confusion. “Wait… the gardener?”

  Liam—who had, for as long as they could remember, been the quiet, distant caretaker of the estate’s grounds—was now seated comfortably in their father’s chair, fingers folded neatly on the desk.

  His piercing gaze met theirs, unreadable as ever.

  Dawn, never one for patience, stepped forward. “Alright. No more games. What the hell is going on?”

  Liam gestured to the two chairs in front of him. “Sit.”

  Luke was the first to piece it together.

  His eyes flicked over Liam’s face—sharp features, piercing gaze, the same composed demeanor he’d seen before. But now, under the dim lighting of the study, the realization hit him like a freight train.

  The alleyway. The fight. The sword.

  The man who had appeared out of nowhere. The man who had saved them.

  It was him.

  Luke’s breath caught in his throat. “You—”

  Dawn, still not quite making the connection, crossed her arms. “Alright, enough. You’re gonna tell us what the hell is going on, and you’re gonna tell us now.”

  Liam’s expression remained neutral as he slowly rose from his seat.

  And as he did, something impossible happened.

  His presence grew.

  Not in the sense of simply standing taller—he expanded, his entire being seeming to stretch beyond the physical limits of the room. The shadows deepened, the air thickened, and suddenly, he wasn’t just Liam the quiet gardener anymore.

  He was something ancient.

  Something powerful.

  His voice, calm but unwavering, carried a weight that pressed into their very bones.

  “Sit.”

  The single word slammed into them like a physical force.

  Dawn’s breath hitched as she stumbled a step back. Luke felt his knees weaken, and for the first time in years, he found himself obeying without question.

  Chris, eyes wide as dinner plates, dropped into the nearest chair without a second thought.

  Liam waited for them to settle, then slowly lowered himself back into the desk chair, his gaze heavy.

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then, finally, he spoke.

  "You have questions," he said. "I have answers. But not all of them. Not yet."

  Dawn, still gripping the arms of her chair, exhaled sharply. “Yeah, no kidding. Let’s start simple—what the hell are you?”

  Liam’s lips twitched slightly. Not quite a smile, but close.

  “A guardian,” he said. “And an old friend of your father’s.”

  Luke, heart still hammering in his chest, could only stare.

  This was going to be big.

  And something told him… he wasn’t ready.

  Liam let out a slow breath, his presence still weighing heavy in the air. He leaned forward, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk.

  "Like I said," he began, "I don’t have all the answers yet. First, your father left you these gifts." He gestured to the two locked boxes sitting on the desk. "They will answer a lot of your questions. But I’ll warn you—" his gaze darkened, his voice measured, "—neither I nor anyone else truly understands what you're about to undergo. I know these boxes contain answers. I just don’t know how to obtain those answers. That part is for you two to figure out. Together."

  Dawn eyed the boxes, hesitant, but Luke could see the gears already turning in her head. Chris, for once, remained quiet, watching with an expression somewhere between curiosity and uncertainty.

  "And as for Chris," Liam continued, his gaze flicking to their friend. "Your father was clear—he wanted no one to know about this. Not your mother. Not the staff. No one. The only people meant to be aware were me, your Uncle T, and you two."

  Luke and Dawn exchanged a glance.

  Uncle T.

  Tyrell.

  Their father’s closest confidant—the one who now held control over the vast majority of their family’s assets. The one who, despite his seemingly distant approach to their upbringing, had always made sure they were taken care of.

  Chris shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, so, uh… does this mean I should leave, or…?”

  Liam studied him for a moment before shaking his head. “Your uncle and I both agreed you’d likely end up telling him anyway—if not immediately, then eventually. And after what I saw in Rome… I think you’ll be more useful in helping them figure this out than you realize.”

  Chris blinked. “Wait… really?”

  Liam nodded. “I saw you help them back there. You didn’t have to, but you did. That counts for something.”

  Chris rubbed the back of his head, clearly unsure of how to take that.

  But before any of them could speak, Liam raised a hand.

  "And before you ask—no. This isn’t your fault. And it isn’t your father’s fault either."

  Luke’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t even said anything, but somehow, Liam had already seen it on his face.

  "You guys are both victims of circumstance," Liam continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "Nothing more. Nothing less."

  Silence settled over the room.

  Luke swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back to the boxes.

  He had a feeling that once they opened them… nothing would be the same again.

  Liam reached for the two ornate boxes, their surfaces smooth with intricate engravings that shimmered faintly in the dim light. He placed one in front of Dawn, the other in front of Luke. The weight of the moment pressed down on them, heavier than the boxes themselves.

  Luke hesitated before lifting the lid.

  Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was a small, metallic device. It looked like a hybrid between a piece of armor and a modern medical tool—like a blood sugar reader designed with old-world craftsmanship. A polished band of silver wrapped around the base, tapering into a pointed tip lined with faint, circuit-like etchings. At first glance, it seemed simple. But the longer Luke stared, the more unnatural it felt.

  Dawn lifted hers cautiously, rolling it between her fingers. It was cold to the touch, unnervingly so, yet the moment her skin made contact, it sent a pulse through her fingertips. She nearly dropped it.

  Luke’s jaw tightened. "What… is this?"

  Liam exhaled through his nose. "A key. A test. A burden." His gaze flickered to them both. "And your father’s last gift."

  Dawn swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "What exactly are we supposed to do with it?"

  Liam gestured toward the devices. "You already know."

  Luke exchanged a glance with Dawn.

  It was obvious.

  It had a slot for a finger. A single-use mechanism designed for a prick of blood.

  Dawn stared at hers like it might bite her. "So… what? We just stick our fingers in and hope it doesn’t kill us?"

  Chris, who had been leaning forward curiously, suddenly scooted back. "Yeah, I don’t like that wording."

  Liam remained unmoving. "It won’t kill you." Then, after a beat, he added, "Probably."

  Chris made a choked noise.

  Luke narrowed his eyes. "That’s really reassuring."

  Liam’s expression didn’t change. "I told you. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know one thing—once you use it, there’s no going back."

  A heavy silence followed.

  Dawn let out a slow breath. "Well… nothing’s been normal for a while now."

  Without another word, she placed her index finger inside.

  Without hesitation, Luke followed. He couldn’t let Dawn be braver than him.

  The moment his finger slipped into the device, he regretted it.

  A sharp prick—then pressure. The metal band tightened, glowing with an eerie, pulsating light. It constricted around his finger, too tight, far too tight. Luke barely had time to register the sensation before the pain shot up his arm like wildfire.

  His knees buckled.

  He fell out of his seat, hitting the floor beside the desk. The two ornate boxes sat empty above him, their contents now fused to their new owners.

  Liam remained seated, unmoved. Chris was frozen, his eyes darting between them, somewhere between horror and fascination. Dawn had curled in on herself in her chair, her body stiff as she clutched her arm, gritting her teeth.

  Luke barely noticed.

  His vision swam, his breath caught in his throat.

  The pain wasn’t just in his hand—it was in his mind.

  Crawling forward on instinct, he barely processed what was happening. Then he looked down.

  The device was—changing.

  Glowing.

  Floating.

  Its pieces no longer solid but suspended, shifting—breaking apart into intricate, floating runes. Light, data, something more than mere symbols swirled in front of him. He saw shapes—math—equations that he barely recognized but somehow understood. DNA strands coiled in the air like threads of code, interwoven with history itself. Dates flickered in and out of existence. Was that… files? Programs?

  He wasn’t sure anymore.

  Then the images came.

  Not from the device.

  From within him.

  Overlayed in his vision—flashes of unknown places, whispers of voices he had never heard but somehow knew. He could feel something pouring into him—knowledge, memories, power.

  It was too much.

  Too much.

  He barely had time to register the weight of it before his mind shut down.

  And everything went black.

  Dawn barely felt the sting of the prick before the weight of it hit her.

  It wasn’t pain at first. Not like Luke.

  It was pressure—like something had wrapped around her bones, her muscles, her very being, and was pulling.

  Her breath hitched.

  The device squeezed tighter, the light intensifying, seeping into her skin like molten gold. She curled in on herself, clutching her arm as it trembled under the force of something she couldn’t understand.

  And then—

  The world shattered.

  Images burst into her mind, rapid, uncontrolled. Not words or thoughts but sensations.

  Strength. Power. Hunger.

  A heartbeat—not hers.

  She saw warriors clashing on fields soaked in blood. Spears flashing in the light of a burning sun. A sky painted red with fire and fury. Women with golden wings standing over fallen men, their voices singing in languages she didn’t know but recognized.

  Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her breath was ragged. She could hear the roars of battle, feel the heat of war, taste the iron in the air—

  And she knew.

  She had been here before.

  The thought wasn’t hers. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

  And yet.

  The knowledge settled deep into her bones, a truth she could no longer deny.

  She gasped as the force of it pressed into her, like something was waking up inside her—something ancient, something hers.

  Her skin burned. Her body ached. And then—nothing.

  The memories, the sounds, the chaos—everything snapped away.

  Darkness swallowed her whole.

  She woke up slowly.

  The first thing she noticed was the rough texture of the blanket over her. Then the ache in her limbs, a deep soreness that made her feel like she’d been through hell.

  She groaned, shifting slightly, her eyes cracking open.

  Soft light filtered through wooden beams. The air smelled of fresh earth and old wood. There was a faint whir of machinery in the distance, and the steady thrum of something—not quite electricity, but not quite natural either.

  She blinked.

  Where the hell was she?

  Her mind was still sluggish, heavy. She turned her head, wincing as her muscles protested.

  Across the small room, Luke lay in another bed, completely out cold.

  Chris sat in a rickety chair between them, his elbows on his knees, watching her.

  The moment her eyes met his, he grinned.

  He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper.

  “Happy birthday, Dawny.”

  Dawn groaned, closing her eyes again. “Shut up, Chris.”

  Luke groaned as he forced his eyes open, his head pounding like someone had taken a hammer to his skull. His body felt impossibly heavy, like gravity had doubled overnight. Every nerve in his body buzzed with exhaustion, and his thoughts lagged behind, struggling to catch up.

  The first thing he noticed was the digital clock on the wall.

  9:26 AM.

  That sent his mind into calculation mode.

  They’d boarded their flight at 6:00 PM in Italy. The seven-hour time difference meant that, at that exact moment, it was only 11:00 AM in Austin.

  The flight had lasted 4.5 hours, meaning they’d landed in Austin at 3:30 PM local time. Add another hour for customs, baggage, and the drive home, and they would’ve arrived at the estate around 4:20 PM at the latest.

  Now, it was the next day.

  They’d been out for over seventeen hours.

  And somehow, he still felt like he could sleep for another twenty-four.

  A groggy noise from the other bed drew his attention.

  Dawn.

  She sat up slowly, eyes bleary, looking like she’d just been hit by the same truck that had flattened him. She didn’t say anything, but the exhaustion on her face mirrored his own.

  Then, there was Chris.

  Still slouched in his chair, arms crossed, watching them closely. He didn’t look exhausted, just impatient.

  Finally, he threw up his hands and said the only thing that mattered.

  “So what the fuck was that?”