Wangshi dropped Lark off first at the building’s entrance. “I’ll meet you inside, later. You have everything inside, right?”

Always such a nagger, that old goat. “Yes. I have everything. I’m sure if their security missed the watch last time, they definitely will miss the ring.”

Wangshi’s bushy eyebrows lowered as if they were staying vigilant against other bushy monsters in the vicinity. Lark brushed off the wary look with the wave of his hand and chuckled. “They’re coming now.”

Soko’s Auction House. Bright neon lights infused with the extended canopy. A line of uniformed men and women waited at the entrance like hotel staffers but their aim was different.

One of the uniformed men dressed in a dark suit and surveillance glasses knocked on his car window. Wangshi lowered it and before Lark could say anything, the man skipped the greetings.

“Membership card, please.”

“I haven’t been here in some time,” Lark began as he pulled out his wallet and showed his ID. “I have an appointment with Jody for my card renewal.”

“I’m assuming you mean Jo Dalton. Give me a second to confirm, sir. Don’t step out of the car yet.” The man ordered and tapped a disk hooked over his ear.

“Yes. There’s a person by the name of Lark Rune who says he has an appointment with you today, but his card expired in July.”

A second passed before the man looked at Lark again. “You’re clear to go. Do you need a valet?”

The moment he said ‘valet,’ a second man walked up the car in the same attire.

“That won’t be necessary. Thanks.”

Lark opened the door with one foot out, yet the man blocked him from leaving. The second person had started waving a metal wand over the trunk.

“…Is there something else?”

“The director said that you’re to be guided to one of our special rooms if you will.” The man offered a hand.

“Is that normal?” Lark took it, noting this custom was different from his previous experiences. Were they on edge from the cultist attacks?

“Your chauffeur will be escorted to lobby after we check out the car.” He didn’t answer the question. The man patted his shoulder and back, then waved to another uniformed employee. “Please follow her.”

Lark stepped around the security guard and headed towards the entrance where a woman dressed in a tight black tunic stood by the sliding doors. She was writing on her tablet as Lark passed by the arched stone columns. Geometric shapes lined the black metal skin of the door frame. Hints of richness and a subtle division of colorfulness separated the general public from those welcomed inside.

So far, it was only him. Strange, as no one else appeared to be waiting in the lobby either. The time could be too early, seeing as the main event wouldn’t occur until the evening. Yet, the lack of visitors made the building feel unwelcoming in a ‘don’t bother us’ kind of manner. Or that was the intent behind the mirrored panels.

Meanwhile, the SUV began moving towards the parking garage before finally, the woman said something to him. “Do you have an appointment with one of our directors?”

“Yes with Miss Jody at 2:30.”

It took a final quick double tap on the tablet until the new person walked him inside. Her heels clicked against the opaque tiles as they made way to the front desk where she showed the clerk the thick silver bangle hanging off her wrist.

“Mr. Rune’s details. Check.”

“Check,” the clerk responded and raised their own silvery bangle. They clinked and issued him a new card immediately with the same information as before except with a new expiration date due next September in 2100.

“Hey, I remember you, the big baller with the watch. Planning another stunt like that tonight?” The lady clerk gave him a wide smile. Loose, bouncy bleached hair came to a high curl above her opened collar, yet this sexy face didn’t ring a bell to him at all.

“I just might, to celebrate the turn of the century. Got any plans in the making for that?” Lark slid his key card inside his back pocket and glanced over the counter. A thick binder sat next to a stack of plain red envelopes.

“You know how it is Mr. Rune. We like to keep it mysterious here.” The clerk made a mousy face as she picked up one of the envelopes for him. “Here’s your lucky red envelope. Your auction number is inside. Best of luck in tonight’s bidding.”

“What’s your lucky number, Miss?” He unsealed the envelope and hid the number behind his back.

“Twenty-two.”

Lark scoffed and turned around in time to see the escort signaling to the clerk.

“It’s how old she wishes she could be,” the lady in the tunic said with a wink. The clerk hooted back.

“Please follow me, Mr. Rune.”

“Alright, thank you for this.” Lark hurried after the escort after waving good-bye.

“Still part of the VIP club, I see…Guess there will be a lot of people making a move for hero-boy tonight.” The clerk stated, but Lark had already entered the elevator with the other woman when she made the remark. With such an unforgettable presence, how could he have forgotten such a friendly face? She giggled, holding her shoulders tight.

The upper floor of Soko’s was like looking at the cells of a plant. A milky green polish weaved around big, wavy round windows like a membrane and stained blue-green glass covered the openings, which couldn’t be seen through. A frosty teal light spanned from the ceiling to the floors, making the room appear stretched and impossibly wide.

Even with hundreds of clients milling about the circular-shaped room, there was so much empty space left. And due to the natural lighting of the room, visitors felt as though they were a mere tree within a forest.

Long rows of stairs cascaded to the stage where the wares were kept inside of glass cases, with the exception of the airships which were caged in by fancy awnings.

This was Soko’s Auction House, where anything in the room could be anyone’s future purchase for the right price.

As soon as they stepped onto the carpeted area, one of the hallway greeters went up to them with a tray of food.

“Hello there, care for some seafood? We just got some fresh finger limes topped onto the buttery shellfish we imported from Australia this morning.”

“Thank you.” Grinning, Lark bit into the chewy, raw meat and slurped up the sweet juices left in the iridescent shell. If he weren’t at a high-scale event, he might’ve been tempted to lick his fingers.

“For our guests who are allergic to seafood, we’ve also provided some of the finest cuts of blue steaks near the bar.” While Lark got distracted by another tray of food, a different waiter seamlessly stepped in, switching out his plate for a glass of sparkling water.

“Refreshing,” Lark licked his lips lightly. “Must be great working here. Do they always treat you to amazing food like this?” He nodded towards his unforgotten companion, who was now also holding up a flute of champagne.

“Only for special occasions.” She smiled, taking a small sip before handing it back to the server. “Take your time, I will come back with Ms. Jody and our other director.”

She had left his side for a moment when a male voice called out from behind him.

“Hey, Mr. Moneybags, enjoying the hors d'oeuvres?” It was a voice he expected but also didn’t expect to hear from so soon.

“Carson.”

The man was his family’s lawyer, but actually, Carson was more than a suit and tie to him; someone whom he could call a friend and a few other identifiers.

“Long time no see.” Lark held up his glass, which Carson gleefully took into his own hand. Such as being a talkative alcoholic.

Carson took a swig and his face immediately soured, looking from the bubbly, clear liquid to Lark’s innocent smile. “What are you like ten still? Where are the elixirs—”

“The bar is over there, but I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

Carson’s big, brown eyes softened at the edges, the magic of alcohol working away at his system A small smirk formed on his features as he wiped his bottom lip with a handkerchief.

“Clever boy. Who’s my favorite VIP?” A clown.

“Me. Of course.”

“That’s wrong. Okay well, half-wrong or half-right. It’s actually everyone in this very room.” The loose-lipped man, half-spun around and looked at everyone as if they were dollar signs.

Or his favorite scrupulous businessman. That’s what lawyers were good at; talking and getting paid for another’s misery.

“I’m jealous, Carson. I thought I was your favorite investment.”

“Don’t say that. In fact, you may be my riskiest bet, but you know I’ve been holding onto you for the longest term. If you want me to compare you to the rest, I’d say you’re a hundred dollar bill, while the others are only ones.”

“God, you’re such a nut.” Lark laughed and formed a devious plan in his mind. Now, that he had unlocked the Trinity’s scan function, he could see through almost anything. “Say, would you believe me if I said I knew a way for you to make more money?”

“With what? Besides, there are more pressing financial matters we should go over. In fact, that’s why I tracked you down here tonight and wore my best shoes.” Carson pulled up his pantsuit and flashed his cowboy boots.

Lark scoffed. “What else is there to discuss? You’ve already sucked in grandfather’s leftover assets.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘protected,’” he replied stiffly, holding onto his belt buckle. “You could think of it this way too, without me, you’d have nothing to spend in tonight’s auction.”

“That’s right and I’m prepared to outspend everyone,” Lark said, adding a smirk. He already knew Carson often made more than one business plan during his ventures; last time he bought collectible daggers for other clients of his.

“You’ve got guts kid,” Carson said, grinning. “Let’s have at it then. Share with me your infinite, seventeen-year-old wisdom.”

As the two passed between other guests to the stage floor, new black boxes floated up to his face.

Pieces like Mishka’s gem-studded headband were inside the glass cases and there were also more prominent weapons such as guns, daggers, and swords that were made available to the public this time around.

“Item: [Imbued Rifle] (magic weapon) (common)

+10 MG

+10% Freezing effect, +5% Critical damage

Owned by Soko’s Auction House.

Durability: 10/10

Basic infantry rifle for Volarian soldiers.

Graded as a rank F weapon. Powered by blue crystals from Terragon.

Limit: 50/50 rounds. Will break upon finished usage.

Brought by Volarian Merchants.”

He wiped the notifications away, his heart thundering under his cool facade.

It wouldn’t stop at simple weapon collecting at this rate. People interested in the so-called upgraded-technology would not keep them only for show. The situation was evolving dangerously.

Just as he was about to ask Carson a question about his clients, Lark couldn’t help but overhear another guest speak in exaggerated outrage.

“They should have known better to install secondary security measures. If you asked me, the principal acted too lax. That’s why the lot turned to cinders. I’m glad my son already graduated before this happened.”

The person who stood next to them awkwardly shuffled their feet, possibly wondering how the conversation made such a leap. It was because the guest talking aloud was someone Lark was acquainted with.

His palms felt hot against the cool glass of his drink; when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the despair swimming in Mrs. Caskey’s eyes when the announcement came out. Samuel wouldn’t have wanted to see his mother like that, but his father was an indifferent man.

“Lark,” he called his name casually. A red carnation was pinned onto his charcoal-grey breast-pocket. The same flower used to decorate the pews during Samuel’s memorial service. What was he thinking?

Lark turned, pretending to be surprised. “Mr. Caskey… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Sam’s father looked the same as usual. His long lion mane hair was pushed back for the occasion and a crooked smile tugged the corners of his face.

“Neither did I, but that’s neither here or there. How are you doing?”

“I’m—”

“You know I was just talking to my colleague here about the school you go to, Dubois, and how my son went there for high school. Incredible, isn’t it?”

Switch out a certain cultist with Mr. Caskey and he might’ve not noticed any difference between their baiting tactics. Nonetheless, he had a bad feeling. “What is?”

“That you’re here and everyone else you knew there is practically dead.”

Lark wasn’t the only one who frowned, beside him Carson had already swooped in. “Easy there. The kid just got out of the hospital.”

His closest friends were missing, not dead. Sam included. Lark clenched his fist, wondering how he could make this clarification without throwing a punch down first. Then he saw a security guard tapping at their ear pierce nearby, and thought better of it. He wasn’t here to make a scene, but to save his friends, which required information.

“When I ask how are you doing, what I really mean is, why are you here when you’ve been through such trauma?” Mr. Caskey spoke, his gaze sweeping past Carson. “You know people often lose touch with reality after these kinds of experiences.”

His nose pointed up as if deciding Lark was one of those people.

Lark pulled back Carson, who seemed more riled up than he. “I need a favor.”

“A violent one?” Carson whispered back, balling his fist.

“Actually, I’ve decided to use most of grandfather’s remaining assets to take care of my classmates’ families,” Lark announced and more than a few ears raised towards their small gathering.

After seeing Sky’s family, there was no way the other families of his classmates would remain unaffected by the ordeal. The request came from the heart, of course, but seeing Mr. Caskey’s smug look disappear set in some reveling satisfaction.

“Set aside some funds for Samuel’s university as well.”

“That’s not really necessary—”

“And the one where Mr. Caskey teaches at.”

Lark observed Mr. Caskey’s reaction, whose smile unraveled.

“I heard some of your staff members went by the capitol that day. Are they okay?”

“…Yes. They managed to escape.” His neck turned pink at the collar.

“Don’t think too much of it. Anyone would want to do the same. Especially since Sam made such a big impact on my life - I want to help others too. Like he would.”

Lark took a slight step back as if to invite others into the circle.

“In tonight’s auction, I heard many of the proceeds will be going towards different organizations helping the families and locations involved in the attacks. I want Runetech to be involved in the process as much as possible. What do you say to that Carson?”

“Setting up a large scale operation is a huge ask, but not impossible.” Carson smiled, obviously plotting something behind his wrinkling forehead. “Of course, having more contributors would be ideal in the long run…”

Someone walked up to their group, extending a hand. “Hi, I couldn’t help but overhear—it’s awful, what’s been happening to our city. I’m part of the Support Inventors organization. Are you looking for patrons?”

“Quite possibly,” Carson took the hand in stride, leading the newcomer in the opposite direction. “We can get the idea ball rolling with my colleagues over there, they like participating in these sort of things.”

The edges of Lark’s mouth crinkled as he held back a chuckle. Carson never lost the opportunity walk and chew gum; or in this case, hit on a rich, pretty woman while having her write him a check.

“You’ve turned into a swindler,” Mr. Caskey scorned under the pretenses of a sarcastic joke. “I wonder where you learned this from, that money can buy you favors.”

Lark wanted to sigh, thinking back to his current debt status under his Familiar title. 1/100 Celestial coins deposited, and yet he asked for another helping hand, increasing that debt to 1/120 Celestial coins. What good was money if you didn’t have any?

Just as he was about to reply the escort came back to his rescue.

“Mr. Rune, Jody’s expecting you with our other director. They would like to meet you in their offices.” She nodded her head off toward the side of the building. “Come with me please.”

“Okay, thank you. Well, see you later tonight.” Lark gave his best business smile, leaving behind Mr. Caskey to lurk by himself, and followed the woman.

“Who was that pretentious lecturer?” she asked him.

“That was my friend’s father. He’s the Dean of Theological Studies..somewhere.” Lark handed off his water to a nearby waiter.

The woman tapped on her tablet, shifting her eyes away from the congregation. “That man needs to work on his prosocial skills.”

“He’s not the type to care about socializing or helping others I think,” Lark said, walking alongside her towards the edge of the greenery.

“I find that hard to believe especially when since he called out to you first. It looked like he was trying to instigate something.”

Goosebumps suddenly raised on his shoulders, a delayed reaction after realizing he didn’t even hear her come from behind them with her snappy heels. How long had she been listening into that conversation?

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” she cut in right after, mistaking his hesitation for something else. He quickly recovered.

“His son… was my mentor in high school and he…passed away recently.”

“Oh my. I’m sorry to hear that…Still, that was rude of him to act that way.”

“It’s nothing compared to high-wired bidders blowing off steam after a loss, no?”

“Maybe in the after-party, but not before. Even then when you work in the information industry you meet a lot of interesting people, but I haven’t seen anyone talk like him in a while and lose touch with reality.” She laughed as she mimicked the anecdote.

“Anyways, I think you handled yourself pretty well. Standing up like that. If the conversation steered differently…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well… that doesn’t matter now. We’re here.”

The woman smoothed out the bottom of her dress before clinking her bangle against one of the oval-shaped doors, which spiraled open for them.

The office was exactly how it was a year prior to when he met Jo Dalton and the VIP seller. A few awards and certificates hung on the curved walls. A medium-sized desk centered the room and a floor to ceiling bookcase with LED lights tucked away in the back. Similarly to the outside, there were no windows that could look out but there was enough lighting in here to see most things.

“Jody,” Lark said her name filled with warmth, coming into her grandmotherly arms. “It’s been a while.”

In the darkest hours of his grandfather’s passing, Jo had reached out first, telling him of things his grandfather had kept secrets such as his love for safari animals, apple cider, and bakeries. When everyone else claimed to be his friend but didn’t even know his passions for anything other than Runetech, she didn’t push those falsehoods onto him.

Soko’s became a temporary refuge for when the rest of the world had shut its eyes to his pain. Now he needed her more than ever, to confirm the things he knew now.

She reached up to pat his head, even though he was nearly a foot taller than her and consoled him. “You took your time coming here.”

“I’ve been…”

“Don’t use that same excuse on me, ‘I’ve been busy,’ like your grandfather. That’s what got him killed you know. The stress on his heart.” She smacked the back of his head this time, and he felt her gemstone ring bounce off the back of his skull.

Jody looked at the escort and signaled her to leave wordlessly, then she pushed Lark towards a chair. “Come sit.”

Her desk was almost as sparse as the lobby. A similar binder sat atop it next to a computer monitor and a few picture frames.

“Jody, you must know why I’m here.” He scooted in his chair closer, keeping his voice low and secretive.

“Bless his heart. You’re so serious like your grandfather.” She turned one of the photos towards him. It was a picture of his grandfather of her smiling in some unknown bakery. “You know this was taken sometime after your middle school graduation and he wanted to know where he should buy you the very best cake.”

Lark flinched. Middle school sounded so long ago now that it didn’t even feel real anymore; more so when everything you knew wasn’t the same.

“Jody…this is serious.”

“And so is cake,” she smiled sweetly. “Someone must have told you about the very different kinds of cake bakeries can sell. The flavors, design, and all down to the serving sizes of each ingredient.”

They were clearly off-topic, but Lark felt he had this conversation before.

“I remember what my grandfather ended up buying for me. It wasn’t a cake.”

“Yes, pie if I recall correctly. I suggested that.”

Lark leaned back in his chair, straightening his jacket and looked into her deep-set eyes. “Why am I here Jody?”

She pushed the binder to him and a sealed envelope. “To find a list of people who have been buying cakes from us.”

As he thought, Mishka’s father wasn’t lying and the scan function was telling the truth; Soko’s and every other powerhouse were selling magicraft, and not earth-made technology. He knew a fit of anger was coming, but he wanted to be understanding.

“What you’re selling to the masses isn’t just cake Jody, it’s weapons.”

A part of him wished that somehow, maybe, she could convince him what they were doing wasn’t wrong. Mishka’s headband alone melted a fifty-foot tall slime. How could anyone imagine putting that kind of destructive power into the hands of the populace?

“It amazes me how much you act like your grandfather.” She folded her arms together, blinking back tired tears in her watery, blue eyes.

“Do you know how many upstarts get their day? It’s from borrowing ancient technology from a previous era, and readapting them to today’s societal needs. Wouldn’t you say the introduction of alien-technology is like that - something old yet new?”

He didn’t hesitate to say ‘yes.’ “But you can’t call it tech, Jody. It’s magic with no known limits. I saw it downstairs and outside already. You’ve equipped people with them. It wasn’t like that before.”

“Sharp too, I suppose that’s why Corn let you have his watch.”

He hadn’t even brought that up yet.

The pain inside his head renewed like a clap of thunder, spreading a fire that seemed to burn down the walls he had built up whenever things didn’t go his way.

They were all plotting something.

“As far as the world knows, these are just convenient tools that work with the energy we know of - conductivity, kinetic, gasoline, etcetera. The lack of information and government cooperation for the last three days is a byproduct of a chain reaction.”

Lark wanted to shake her. The world was blind to the change, even though they felt it happening slowly. But the world’s problems weren’t what he came to hear.

“Let me remind you of the bygone days of darkness when it was widely believed the most dangerous places were occupied by sorcerers and witches who reigned terror in the night. ”

She laced her hands together over her desk.

“Everyone wants to believe that how they choose to live, is the right way. Even destined to do great things if given the chance. In all honesty, though, we’re all specks of dust. You, me. In time, everyone withers and dies. But how we die is a huge significance to us.

“We can’t die without fighting.”

Lark reached in to hold her hands. “Jody, I don’t understand. Tell me, where’s Cornelius? What do you mean he gave me his watch—why did my grandfather get involved with this?”

“We were planning for a war that came sooner than we thought—”

The bookcase behind her opened like how his grandfather’s one worked, and a middle-aged

man with a white cape strode out.

“Jo, your five minutes are up.”

Lark looked up in surprise. “You’re…”

“Cornelius Goodwing. It’s nice to see you again.”