Vincent’s world was completely black and barren of anything. Although he felt nothing, he felt oddly at peace, but at the same time, he felt a sense of urgency and unease. The more he stayed in the familiar nothing, the more he felt that something was missing, that something was wrong.

Before he could contemplate those feelings any longer, he felt a slight feeling of heat. This feeling began to grow and grow, faster and faster. The heat reached the point of being unbearable and yet it still continued to burn hotter and hotter. When he couldn’t take anymore, and when his consciousness fully came back to him, Vincent sat up and opened his eyes.

His body ached and pain shot through his arms, his back, and down to the tips of his toes. When he tried to prop himself up, his left arm began to sear with pain. He saw that his arm was burnt badly and he began to look at what else on his body was injured. A few ribs were broken or bruised, his chest was slightly burnt, and he was cut up all throughout his body.

The final part of his body that was in pain was his head—both on the inside and outside. That pain pointed to a point directly behind him. Looking in that direction, he saw what he could only comprehend as a giant wolf, howling loudly and slashing at the floor and walls in a crazed fashion. The wolf-like creature was taller than Vincent, even on all fours. Its body took up most of the hallway, emphasizing the sheer, unnatural size of the beast.

It’s body had bones that protruded from certain sections of its body, mainly at the major joints in its legs and back. Its jaw opened in an unnatural way, unhinging itself so far that the bottom part of its jaw was almost perpendicular to the floor. Dripping out of that jaw was a clear fluid that would instantly catch fire and burn up. That fluid seemed as natural as salvia, but as dangerous as gasoline.

The hallway around was in a state of complete ruin. There were slash marks raked throughout every wall and floor, seemingly made by the creature. But the most noticeable thing about the hall was what caused Vincent to wake in such a hurry—the blazing inferno. The fire clung to the walls and poured its vile smoke all over. A few windows were shattered, which allowed some of the smoke to escape, but the air within the hallway was still heavy and borderline unbreathable.

Peering around the wolf, he saw three figures standing at the end of the hallway. One of the figures extended their arm and the fire began to dim a bit and relax. The figure’s appearance became clearer. There was a man who looked to be in his early forties, with graying and peppered hair that covered his head. His hair was straight, short, and looked to be maintained with discipline and purpose. He had stubble that looked to be slightly more apparent than a typical five o’clock shadow, signifying that this person seemed to either forget to shave some days or that they were extremely busy most days.

Vincent’s adrenaline immediately began to pump and he stood up at once, ignoring all of his pain. The man turned in response, their brown trench coat swaying from the sudden turn in posture. With his heightened senses, Vincent could see that the man was smoking a cigarette and that they had a very serious look in their eyes. The figure to the man’s left turned and spoke.

The figures were too far away for Vincent to understand what they were saying, but he didn’t really care.

The two figures by the cigarette-man nodded and rushed down the stairs. Only he remained. He then extended his pointer finger and blew a puff of smoke. The now dim fire around Vincent seemed to quiver and shake. It then began to move towards the man, slowly, but it was gaining speed, exponentially. After a second, the fire sprang off of the walls and flew towards his fingertip, all gathering in that one spot.

Vincent’s fight or flight response was at an all time high, and he saw nothing around him besides the two threats in front of him—the giant wolf, and the man who he now thought was one behind this fire. Vincent was just about to run forward and attack the man when he heard the sound of something hitting the ground. Quickly glancing over, he saw that Eliot had collapsed and was now unconscious. The wolf that was in the hallway began to become more and more transparent, until it faded away completely.

Before he even had time to think, a flash of burning light was fired in Vincent’s direction from the cigarette-man. Vincent threw up his hand and created a void in front of his face. The fire scattered and hit the walls. He then made up his mind on what he was going to do—he was going to fight this villain and save his friends.

“Vin...Vincent,” a familiar voice called out to him, their voice raspy and dry. “We have to leave...now.”

It was Zander. Zander was conscious and standing up next to the collapsed Eliot. He had one of Eliot’s arms slung around his shoulder in an attempt to carry him.

Suddenly, another shot of fire was shot off, but this one was now aimed at Zander and Eliot. Vincent reached out, but his arms weren’t long enough to reach them. He needed more. He needed more. He needed more of what? He felt the room grow colder and his thoughts all seemed to vanish at that very moment of desperation.

Right before the shot of fire connected with Zander and Eliot, a small, black void appeared in front of them, not connected to Vincent’s hand. The fire once again scattered, not harming its intended target. Both Zander and Eliot were safe...for now.

Vincent’s mind began to turn and think more rationally. He allowed himself to sink lower into that familiar abyss. He reconsidered his fight or flight decision, looking at the window and back at the man.

With a new decision reached, he ran towards his friends, grabbing both of them. He then jumped through the broken window in hopes of escape. There was only one problem: they were all on the second floor of the school and they were falling fast.

Luckily, Vincent’s instincts took over and he began to create another void, this one enveloping the group. He created the void in a way where they were actually more on the left side of the void. He created it just as the group was about to hit the ground, and because of this, their momentum was changed from being straight down, to more of a diagonal in the direction that the void shot them out. The group tumbled and rolled for a solid ten to twelve feet before coming to a stop.

“Let’s get a move on,” Vincent said, getting to his feet, dirt and ash covering his face.

Vincent and Zander both helped pick up the unconscious Eliot and began to run. Just as they were about to leave the school premises, Vincent turned around just in time to see the mysterious fire-slinging man looking out the window at him.

After a few minutes of running, the group huddled up out of sight in a nearby alley way. The sounds of police cars and other emergency vehicles could be heard in the distance. The group sat down to rest and catch their breath. The adrenaline started to wear off for Vincent and the thoughts that were pushed away began to flood back to him.

As the group was catching their breath, cleaning up, and reflecting on what just happened, Eliot began to stir awake. His eyes barely creaked open, like he barely had the energy to wake up. He then sat up and looked around.

“Yo, El, you good?” Vincent asked, walking over Eliot.

“I...where?” Eliot barely croaked out. He then coughed a few times and cleared his throat.

“We’re in an alley. But, dudes,” Vincent said, looking at both Zander and Eliot “what the hell happened? Who was that?”

“What?” Eliot said, his thoughts seeming to trail off. His eyes scanned the ground, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. “What are you talking about?”.

Surprised, Vincent raised his voice a bit. “What do you mean ‘What are you talking about’? I’m talking about that giant explosion and the man with the finger-fire,” Vincent said, pointing his fingers towards the end of the alley and firing them like a gun.

“I...I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eliot replied with a look of genuine confusion.

“Huh, I was sure you were still up when that happened.” Vincent’s excitement and energy deflated a bit upon hearing that.

“Well,” Zander spoke up, “what about that wolf-like behemoth in the hallway? I think that causes more need for concern, seeing as it somehow disappeared after only about ten seconds or so—at least from what I saw, anyways.”

“Now I’m lost,” Eliot replied.

“Well, what do you remember then, Eliot?”

“Well…” Eliot started, “I remember us panicking in the auditorium and us running towards the science classrooms.” Eliot then reached for his head and began to rub it as he recalled his memories. “The last thing I remember is getting to the top of the stairs. After that, I just woke up here, surrounded by my best friends.”

“Well, that doesn’t help at all,” Zander replied flatly. “I should've figured you wouldn’t remember anything about this. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Vincent,” he hesitated, “what do you make of this whole situation?”

Excitement began to fill Vincent’s whole body—after all, it’s not everyday that Zander gets to the point where he has to ask Vincent for help. He was going to savor this very moment and stretch it out as long as he could.

“Well you see,” Vincent replied, rubbing his fingers on his chin like the smart people on TV shows do, “I have deduced that the wolf creature was the superpower of one of the men who assaulted our school.”

Zander rolled his eyes. “And what possible logic could you have as a basis for this thought?” Zander annoyingly inquired.

“Indubitably,” Vincent replied in a voice that was clearly mocking Zander. “But seriously,” he said in his normal tone, “if there are Dominators that control things—like me with voids and Mr. Fire-Fingers with fire—then that was probably the work of an Apparator, who seems to control monsters or something like that.”

There was a moment of silence where Zander just looked up while rubbing his chin. Vincent could tell that Zander was actually seriously considering what he said. “Huh,” Zander finally said. “For once, you actually said something intellectual and not idtiotic. I think that’s plausible. How do you think they were made? And where do you think these creatures come from?”

“Oh that’s easy! They’re aliens, they come from space,” Vincent replied with confidence.

“There it is.”

“I think we should call these monster-things something. I was thinking since they apparate from thin air and—”

“That’s not a real word.”

Completely ignoring what Zander just said, Vincent continued his thought. “—they vanished like a ghost, we should call them Apparitions.”

“Um, excuse me,” Eliot quietly interjected. “I’m lost. Can someone explain to me what you guys are talking about.”

That’s right. Vincent completely forgot that Eliot had no idea what they were talking about—he was unconscious the whole time.

“Well...how do I put this?” Vincent began to say.

“There was a school shooting and possibly a terrorist attack at the school,” Zander flatly interrupted.

There was a moment of confusion in Eliot’s eyes, as if his brain hadn’t fully put together what Zander said. “Wha-what are you…” Eliot trailed off.

“And Vincent and I had an encounter with the people who probably did it. There was a guy who could control fire and now we think there was a guy who could,” Zander looked at Vincent, “apparate a wolf-like creature. We ran away and stopped in an alleyway, which is where we are now. Any questions?”

Eliot’s mouth was hung slightly open and his eyes were wide. After a few seconds, his eyes started to dash back and forth and his entire demeanor seemed to drift downwards and sadden. He then slumped down and curled up into a ball.

“Oh no,” Eliot mumbled, his head buried in his hands and knees. “That’s horrible.” After saying that, the only that could be heard from Eliot was the occasional muffled sniff and sob.

There was an eerie and awkward silence for a few seconds before anyone else spoke up. Getting frustrated with the silence, Vincent spoke up.

“Alright then, let’s head on out. We got a long journey to Egypt,” Vincent said nonchalantly, as he began to stroll out of the alley.

“What are you talking about?” Zander snapped. “Do you not understand the situation here? You can’t just assume that we’re going to just go to Egypt. We have to think about this carefully and thoroughly.”

“What are you talking about? Of course we’re gonna go! What else is there to do?” Vincent replied, genuinely confused.

Zander laughed a bit. “Oh, of course, my bad, my bad. What else is there to do besides going to Egypt? Work on my future? Stay with my parents? Investigate the murder at our school? No, no, absolutely not,” he replied with anger and sarcasm in his voice.

“Yeah, exactly!” Vincent said enthusiastically.

“NO!” Zander yelled quietly. “We have to think this through—we have to think of every option. We can’t just casually decide to do something like that. I am firmly against leaving and going to Egypt. We have too much here to lose if we leave. Think about it, Vincent. Think something through for once. You hardly think before you act.

Vincent looked directly into Zander’s eyes with an incredibly blank expression—one that obviously showed how unimpressed he was by Zander’s logic. “And you hardly act after ya think,” he replied. “We got a better chance of figuring this stuff out if we follow the obelisks; they seem to have the answers we’re looking for. Are ya just scared to leave the comfort of your hometown?”

“Wha—” Zander stammered. “That’s insane. After all, I’ve traveled to many other places with my parents, so I couldn't be scared of traveling.” Zander’s composure seemed to be wavering a bit. “I’m only against this because of my sound reasoning and nothing else. I can prove it too. I’ll tell you what, I’ll go if we go as a group a-and Eliot will be the one who decides.”

“That works for me,” Vincent replied with a smile. “El?”

Looking over, Vincent saw that Eliot had not moved from his curled-up position. Eliot’s face was still buried in his arms and his arms were folded across his knees. He seemed really down and the whole vibe of his quiet was different than what Vincent was used to.

After a few seconds, Eliot looked up at Vincent and took a long, deep breath. “I-I think that we s-should go,” he said. He then paused and took another deep breath. As he did, his body shook for a second before calming down again. “Let’s go…I don’t want any more people to have to suffer from these Resonators; we have to figure out the truth,” Eliot said quietly.

Looking back at Zander, Vincent could see that his eyes were wide with disbelief. It seemed that Zander was not expecting Eliot to take Vincent’s side.

“Well,” Zander huffed, “I see. So how are we going to get there, Vincent? If we can’t think of a way to get there quickly then I think it’s pointless. In addition, it’s across the ocean. It’s not like there’s a convenient and easy way to—”

“Oh that’s easy,” Vincent casually replied. “I already got that covered.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What? Getting a boat ride over there is easy,” Vincent said, shrugging his shoulders. “Robert’s a sailor, ya know, and he has a schedule of all the ships that leave port. I took a look at it yesterday when I got home and found a ship that’s leaving for Egypt today. See? I do think some things through.”

“So there’s just conveniently a ship going to the exact location that we’re heading?” Zander asked with a bit of frustration and annoyance in his voice.

“Yep.”

Zander’s mouth just hung open for a minute, his eyes fixated on Vincent. Vincent knew that this was a tell-tale sign that Zander was on the verge of admitting defeat—which doesn’t happen very often.

“Whatever,” Zander sighed, shaking his head. “I suppose these are extraordinarily extenuating circumstances. I’m sure my parents will understand if I do something so import—”

“Fantastic! Let’s get a move on then.”

Vincent then proceeded to waltz out of the alleyway and as he did so he motioned Zander and Eliot to follow. And as he did, he saw both Zander and Eliot get up and follow him—Zander was the slowest to get up and follow.

While Vincent’s outward appearance seemed to be unfazed by the events that just unfolded, what he was feeling on the inside didn’t reflect that. He was still recovering from using his powers. His body was slowly warming back up and the forced emotions that he showed earlier were becoming natural again.

The group began to make their way to the part of the city where the largest port was, Doc’s Dock, with Vincent leading. The path there was very familiar for him, even though he slightly detested that fact. The group kept a low profile and took the most obscure routes to get there.

Along the way to the port, the group stopped at Vincent’s house in order to clean up, gather some supplies, and dress their wounds. Zander and Eliot were miraculously unscathed for the most part, but Vincent was wounded badly. His arms were burnt, his face was cut up, and his stomach was bruised. Eventually, he was able to wrap himself up enough to not look suspicious.

When they arrived at Doc’s, the group paused on Vincent’s command before getting to the security gate. He walked up to the window and knocked. The window slid open and the familiar, wrinkled face of Phill—the usual day shift guard—sat staring at Vincent. His jovial demeanor and half-toothless smile seemed unchanged since the last time they met.

“Oh my good golly, is that you little Vince?” Phill said enthusiastically.

“Hey Phill, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Vincent replied.

“Oh look atcha, Boy! You sure have grown like a beanstalk since I’ve seen you last. Whatcha doin’ out here, Sonny?” Phill’s expressions and arm movement were as enthusiastic as it always was.

Vincent smiled a bit, but the smile had a bit of sadness behind it. “Well...I actually came to see Robert. It’s a bit of an urgent thing—ya know, family stuff and—”

Phill put a hand up, cutting Vincent off. “Say no more, I get it,” he said in a more serious tone. “Plus, it ain’t my business knowin’.” Phill looked over to his left. “He’s at the Lights Out district, like usual, on dock twelve. But ya better hurry, Boy, ‘cause I reckon he’s about to set sail.”

“Thanks, Phill,” Vincent replied, keeping the same smile across his face. “Come on, guys, let’s get going,” Vincent said, looking at his friends.

As the group began their way towards dock twelve, with Vincent leading, he began to feel uneasy. He normally doesn’t look forward to talking with Robert, and with his situation as it is, that feeling of unrest only grew larger and larger.

Doc’s Dock was fairly well kept, albeit a few spots that looked like they were commonly missed when being cleaned. Giant machinery, like cranes and other such apparatuses, lined every dock and almost every inch of the port. There were many different kinds of people wandering about the place; some gruff and hardy looking, some more commanding, some that looked miserable, and some that seemed foreign. In addition to the machinery and people, ships of all sizes were anchored: personal ships, yachts, small and large cargo ships, and everything else imaginable.

After some time, Vincent knew that the group had made it to the Lights Out district. The Lights Out district was just a nickname for the largest part of the port. It got that name because the workers worked such long hours. They would always say that they worked until “lights out and then some.”

That part of the port was where the large cargo ships and container ships docked and loaded and unloaded their cargo. It brought in cargo from all over the world and sent out exports to just about as many places. It was a huge money-maker for the city and played a vital role for the city, economically.

Because he was fairly familiar with that section of the port, Vincent didn’t consider how amazed and dumbfounded Zander and Eliot might have been upon seeing all the massive machinery and ships. Sure enough, as he turned around to talk to his friends, he saw them both staring up and around them. Zander was constantly looking around him while writing things down in his notebook, while Eliot just stared at the machinery, gripping hard to Zander’s coat. He seemed to recoil back as if something about the machinery terrified him. Vincent didn’t think too hard about his friends’ reactions and just continued to move forward.

The group eventually arrived at one of the largest docks which housed one of the largest ships any of them had ever seen. It was a massive container ship that looked like it was about to finish up loading its cargo. On the side of it read OFU, which Vincent knew was the name of the ship.

“Hey!” a distant voice called out, one that was familiar to Vincent. The voice said some other words, but he couldn’t seem to make out what was being said.

Here we go, Vincent thought while cracking his neck and shoulders.

As he looked in the direction of the voice, he saw a familiar figure make its way to him. The figure eventually came up to Vincent and the group, stopping a few feet short of them. The figure was a middle-aged man wearing a sailor’s uniform that looked like an absolute tank of a man. He was bald with leathery-tan skin that looked as if it had been exposed to the sun for years on end.

His demeanor was hard, rigid, and tough to get a read on. He carried himself with pride, while his enormous and superbly-defined muscles reflected against the sun. His body towered over the group, even a whole head and shoulder over Vincent. In addition, his features were very obviously Native American—more so than even Vincent.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Boy,” the man said, looking directly at Vincent. His voice was low, but not as rough as his exterior would imply. He spoke slowly, but every word he said had some intensity behind it.

“Me too, Robert. Well, the thing is that we—” Vincent started to reply.

“Hold on a sec’, Vince, today’s a weekday, right? Aren’t ya supposed to be in school right now?” Robert replied inquisitively, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh...yeah, I mean, no but yeah. I-I mean you see…” Vincent’s thoughts seemed to trail off from his nervousness. Robert was the only person that he’s ever known that always seemed to break his composure.

“Out with it Boy! If you are, then what the hell’re you doin’ here? Don’t tell me your ass is skippin’ again,” Robert said, his voice rising with what seemed to be his anger.

“Not this time,” Vincent shot back immediately. “And what the hell does it matter to you?”

“For fuck’s sake, Boy, I’m your goddamn father! Of course I care when you skip. You said you were gonna stop that shit and start takin’ classes seriously,” Robert snapped, his demeanor becoming even more stern. The veins on his head were becoming more and more visible.

“Yeah, well we both say shit all the time, don’t we?”

“And you're the only one that doesn’t do anything. And what’s with these bruises an’ shit?” Robert asked, pointing at the bandages and cuts on Vincent. “Did you get into another fight? Aw, fuck, Vince, I didn’t need this today.”

Robert put his hands on the top of his head while looking at the sky as he said that. He then looked back down and seemed to be taken back for a second when his eyes landed on Zander and Eliot, who were right behind Vincent. “And you got them caught up in your crap too, huh? Their parents are gonna kill them, especially you,” he said, looking at Zander.

“Mr. Huron, sir, I know this smooth-brained idiot,” Zander said, pointing at Vincent, “doesn’t have the best record at school, but it isn’t what it looks like right now. I’m surprised you haven’t heard.” Zander talked in a slow and composed manner. Vincent recognized this speech pattern from Zander—he always used it when trying to diffuse a situation, mess with someone’s head, kiss someone’s ass, or any combination of the three.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Robert replied, the anger in his voice unmoving.

Zander looked surprised, but Vincent couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just an act. “To be straightforward with you, since I know you don’t like ‘beating around the bush’ as you call it, there was an attack at the school. Someone came in, caused various explosions, and proceeded to shoot up the school.” Zander’s eyes and expression seemed down, but serious at the same time. “It was traumatic and, in all honesty, one the scariest things we all had to experience. And yes, Vincent was indeed at school today, too.”

Robert seemed to stop, seemingly taking in all that he was just told. His eyes grew wide and looked at each of the boys in the group. “Are ya serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am. However, fortunately, we are fine—we were some of the lucky ones.”

“Well…” Robert sighed, looking down at the ground. His face showed signs of intense thought and consideration. “Since it’s coming from you, Zander, I’ll believe it. Anyways I’m relieved to hear that you guys are alright,” Robert sighed, again. “And Eliot, I haven't heard you talk. Are you doing alright?”

“Uh...um…” Eliot stumbled.

“He’s doing better than I thought he would, but you know how much more something like this would affect him,” Zander interjected.

“Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that. Damnit,” Robert said, flexing his muscles and stomping one foot on the ground, “I knew I should’ve brought my phone with me when I went to work on repairs this mornin’.” He then rubbed his eyes with one hand and cracked his neck. Looking at Vincent, he let out a long and deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Vince,” he said a little under his breath.

Vincent was a bit taken back by the apology and couldn’t quite think of how to respond. “Whatever,” he said.

There was a moment of awkward silence, where the only thing audible was the loud machinery in the distance and the occasional seagull that flew overhead. Finally, Robert spoke out.

“Well, thank you boys for coming out here to tell me. I’m assuming that’s why you’re here, right?” Robert asked awkwardly

“Well, that and we need to go to Egypt, so we’re gonna have to get on that boat,” Vincent stated rather plainly.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You heard me, we gotta go to Egypt. Besides, it’s not like we got a school to go back to right now.”

Robert took a deep breath and looked Vincent directly in the eyes. “I know you’ve had a horrible day, but you’re not coming with me. I’m done arguing for the day, Vince.” He then looked at Zander and Eliot. “Besides, I bet their parents don’t even know they’re here. They’re probably worried sick.”

“So? Who cares? We gotta get there, it’s important. It’s something I want to do, Robert.”

Robert seemed to be visibly taken back by what Vincent said, but his normal composure came back to him quickly. “I said I’m done arguing today,” he said adamantly. “I’m glad you’re safe, and that’s why you shouldn’t be put in any more danger. Just go stay with the Nenmos’ for now until I get back.”

“What’s going on over here?” an unfamiliar voice called out.

“Capt’n?” Robert questioned with a bit of surprise.

“Oh ho ho, that’s my rank, and don’t you forget it,” the voice replied with a bit of bounce to it.

Looking at the figure that belonged to the voice, Vincent saw a younger man, probably in his mid-thirties, with tanned skin and blonde, slicked-back hair. His smile was pearly white, but it somehow seemed either forced or unnatural in some way. His beard was blonde, with some gray peppered in, and it was very well kept. The man’s uniform was extremely well decorated and well kept as well. He seemed to carry himself with an equal amount of pride and whimsy.

“What seems to be the trouble out here? It’s rare to see you out and about conversing with people,” the man said with an upbeat tone. “Not that that’s a bad thing, oh ho ho. As a matter of fact, I would encourage it for you, Rob. This man,” the man said, patting Robert on the back, “works himself to death, I tell you—best damn sailor I got.”

The man proceeded to laugh a bit more until his eyes came to rest on Vincent. “Pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Captain Neil A. Parker of the OFU. What is your name, if I may ask?”

“Vincent,” Vincent replied plainly.

“Vincent, you say?” Captain Neil replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, Vincent Huron, technically.”

“Ah, I see now. Very interesting. And what was the issue I just barely caught wind of while I was walking over here?”

Before Robert could even answer, Vincent immediately answered Captain Neil. “We’re trying to get on this ship and head to Egypt, but Robert won’t let us for some reason.”

“Oh is that so? Well, normally he would be right. We can’t have just any random person come aboard this fine ship; it’s carrying much too valuable cargo,” Captain Neil said while staring at the boat. When he finished, his eyes found their way back to Vincent. “That being said, I’m willing to make an exception right now.”

“Capt’n, you can’t be serious. I don’t want them getting into anymore—” Robert began to protest.

“They are adults and can make their own decisions, Rob,” Captain Neil said, cutting Robert off. “I have had some of the crew from the manual labor unit call in sick, so I am short a few bodies. In addition, I think this would be a wonderful opportunity for young Vincent. We can call this a job shadow, if you will. He can learn new trades on this journey, all of which can be easily transferred into great jobs.”

He then stared directly at Robert. “Besides, wouldn’t you agree that this is a good chance to have Vincent out and doing something, hm? His friends are more than welcome to come along too, as long as they work.”

Robert didn’t reply right away. His face still showed obvious signs of shock and confusion. Eventually, that confusion and shock seemed to turn into anger and irritation. “Whatever,” he said with a huff, and then proceeded to walk back towards the direction of the ship.

Captain Neil walked up to the group and put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Vincent Huron.”