Finn could imagine how, to normal people, the weather in this part of the world could be just as dangerous as the primebeasts or villains present. On a wider scale, that was. Given that he had only learned about this continent through history books and lectures rather than personal experience, he didn't truly know how things worked here when he was actually in these war-torn lands.

  Carrying the yet-unnamed girl was difficult at first since he still had the huge bag with his supplies strapped to his shoulders, but he managed to create a comfortable spot for her between his back and the makeshift backpack. He made good time through the snow, avoiding any primebeasts that he could detect—which was to say, all of them—and taking a loose zigzagging route north. That said, he made sure not to jostle his small passenger too much so as not to wake her up.

  He didn't want to get into a fight right now. Besides having a point of vulnerability with him, he didn't want to waste time getting home after learning about the setback he was facing. It didn't matter that he wanted to test his limits. He could do that once he found a place where the kid could rest, out of immediate danger.

  With the snow being rather high, he eventually decided to start tree hopping where he could—a trick he had picked up during his mobility training in the first few weeks or so.

  Maintaining gentle turns and slower jumps in order to not create a ton of whiplash, Finn eventually reached a drier patch of ground that he could better run on.

  Then, suddenly, his sphere of influence fell over something strange. Something he had not wanted to encounter but whose true nature he could guess at.

  Distant, moving crystalline constructs in the form of animals were of particular interest. Because those things were not primebeasts. That tall, moving hound made of pure ice must have been a controlled minion of Seraphim. And it couldn't be the only one of its kind, either.

  Actually, “controlled” might not have been the correct term. He was reasonably confident that the ice monstrosity on the edge of his range was autonomous to a significant degree. Though there were supposed to be many of them spread throughout this massive territory.

  From school, Jack, and the internet, Finn knew that Seraphim was the undisputed strongest summoner-type in the world, with the ability to create a legion of frozen soldiers of all shapes and sizes to do her bidding. To him, that hadn't sounded like the strongest power ever. After all, he believed quality was better than quantity. However, it seemed to be enough.

  Enough to rule a continent for decades.

  Finn steered clear of the frosty canine. If his suspicions were correct, it was totally possible that the long-standing warlord had a way of gathering information from her summons, even when they were defeated. Or especially when they were defeated.

  All in all, it seemed to him the best call here was to avoid the danger. Even supposing he was now as strong as Yama, which was absolutely not the case, getting into a protracted battle with Seraphim seemed like a profoundly stupid idea from all angles.

  Having exited Wanderlust’s dimension, Finn had concluded that not every fight was worth taking. He had a responsibility and a goal, and he would be remiss to divert attention and time away from said goal so long as it wasn’t necessary.

  Almost immediately after spotting it, he decided to leave this thing to its patrol or whatever else it might have been doing. And so he ran on, his passage barely making a sound as he picked up the pace a bit.

  Soon, he happened upon a camp, of sorts. Except more advanced than that. There were full-on residences here. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, before looking closer with his power’s senses and noticing that the construction of the… cabins, for lack of a better term, was too perfect to be done by hand, or even by machine. All the imperfections he had grown used to in man-made buildings were absent. These things were genuinely perfect down to the molecule. It was a marvelous sight for someone who could appreciate it. Though Finn suspected the list of people who were actually capable of that was quite short. Likely consisting of just himself and the creator.

  They were in a more forested area now, snow-capped foliage blocking out light from the bleak, clouded sky. Based on what he was able to deduce, the encampment had been placed in a clearing. And inside it were people. A larger group than he would have thought, about the size of a platoon, but they didn’t look like military men. Not at all.

  Foregoing the option of sneaking in and causing undue conflict in the long term, Finn decided to make his presence known more openly, walking up to the pair of men standing guard around the perimeter. It wouldn’t have been something he would even entertain doing before his training, but he had countermeasures against those rifles the guards held. They weren’t a threat to him.

  The guy on the right spotted him first, shouting something in Spanish and leveling the barrel of his gun at Finn while the guy’s companion did the same. Approaching with his hands raised, Finn made his steps slow and deliberate. The two men hesitated upon seeing the girl resting on his back.

  He made his lack of comprehension of their language clear, speaking a few English words which seemed to alarm them. They shuffled closer together and exchanged some hushed words before one of them ran off and the other kept his weapon pointed at Finn.

  It didn’t take more than a minute for the runner to return with a third man in tow, this one clad in warm, practical survival gear. Side-swept hair, kind eyes and a polite smile fixed on his face.

  Telling the guards something that must have meant “stand down,” he stepped towards Finn.

  “Hello, my name is Ernesto,” the man greeted, holding out a hand. After a moment, Finn shook it. Best to get along here so he could move on as quickly as possible.

  “Shade,” he replied simply. Was he wearing a mask? No, but he was using a more advanced version of the disguise technique he’d used back on his first date with Lyra. Now that he’d become able to sense every cell making up a human body in all the people around him, he had gained a new level of insight on how to create the illusion of altered facial structure using colors, meaning this disguise was far more convincing than what he’d managed the previous time he tried his hand at it. There was no risk of him being recognized as Finn Allister by anyone.

  “I take it you are not from the States, then?” Ernesto asked.

  “No. Apexia.”

  “Ah, far from home, I see. May I ask, how did you end up here? This isn’t the most popular vacation spot in recent years,” came the reply, made to seem casual but betraying a hint of wariness. Which Finn found reassuring, if anything. It would have been strange for this man not to be even the slightest bit suspicious of him.

  “...Teleportation gone wrong,” he offered. No further elaboration. He wasn’t going to tell them about Omega or Wanderlust. Omega hadn’t used his gatekey so there was no reason to assume he had landed in this country. And if he had, he would be long gone already.

  Perhaps sensing Finn wasn’t going to elaborate further, Ernesto nodded. “And this one?” He was pointing at the girl now.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “I found her on the way. She caught the attention of a primebeast.”

  Ernesto’s head reared back a little, eyes widening as he looked Finn up and down again as if seeing him in a new light. “You killed it, then found your way here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see, I see. One more question, and when that is done I let you ask me a few things in return?” he suggested, gesturing for Finn to follow him into the camp.

  “Alright.”

  The impromptu guide fell into step beside Finn and lowered his volume. “How did you find us? Usually we are protected from outsiders stumbling on our hiding places.”

  Though he kept his gaze forward, unwavering, Finn observed the man’s microexpressions with his power and came to the conclusion that there was more to his question than simply the intent to inquire about Finn’s ability to suss out the location of a presumably well-hidden settlement. In fact, what was that in the guy’s breast pocket? A wooden token of sorts? He’d assumed it was just a charm, but maybe it was similar to those artifacts he had seen in Viperia’s storage supply. A power-created item capable of granting an ability to anyone who knew how to activate it.

  Was this place protected by it then? It was too early to say for sure. “I have sharp senses,” he said vaguely.

  Surprisingly, that got Ernesto to huff out a laugh, clouds of fog escaping his mouth. “All the signs tell me that you are dangerous beyond belief, yet I find wondering if that isn’t exactly what we need.”

  Finn finally gave him a side-eye with a raised eyebrow. “Need for what?”

  Bringing a fist up to his mouth, Ernesto cleared his throat and relaxed in a way that indicated the conversation was veering back into well-trodden ground for the accommodating man. “Ah, you see, as I am sure you have been able to figure out, we are not part of Seraphim’s army, nor are the people here rebels.”

  He said that last part with a wave of his hand at the people scattered across different parts of the camp. Some eyed Finn with curiosity of hostility, though most paid them little mind. Really, most of them looked to be preoccupied with organizing the daily affairs one or another. That one group near the center was preparing dinner, for example. The older kitchen lady having people run to and fro to acquire various ingredients.

  Yet due to the familiarity they displayed, the residences here were very much temporary even if the people had started getting acquainted with each other. Lack of decorations in the rooms, travel bags, wheeled contraptions fit to carry a lot of supplies at a moment’s notice.

  “Refugees,” Finn guessed.

  “That’s right,” Ernesto confirmed. “And, on the presumption that you do indeed want to get back to your city, I humbly request that you travel with us.”

  With them? Finn was confident that he could make it out of here on his own. Sneaking out of this place would be far easier without other people weighing him down. It was what his power specialized in, arguably. Stealth. Logically, there was no reason for him to involve himself with this group. His goal in coming here had been to drop off the girl so he could be on his way.

  They came to a stop in front of a somewhat larger building, Finn shrugging off his backpack and moving to set the girl down. She woke up, blinking blearily at him. Immediately after she began to shiver and gaze back and forth. Then her eyes settled on him and she stopped panicking. Slowly, he let her find her balance to stand on her own feet.

  For the third time since they’d met, she said something he didn’t understand, but this time Ernesto came to the rescue, kneeling beside the girl and asking her something. For once, Finn could infer the question from context.

  “Paloma,” the girl answered. Ernesto beckoned one of the women walking past, who approached and took Paloma into the building after some whispered words.

  Seeing her cast a final glance back at him, Finn spoke. “You built the entire camp, didn’t you?”

  “Why, yes I did. My power is logistically one of the best, but it is only me. We lost our superhuman fighter when Seraphim’s forces last found us,” said Ernesto. “You have proven that our protections are not infallible even when stationary. So the final leg of the journey will be in the next few days. I was planning to wait a week, but the sooner, the better. If we had you to protect us, we would be eternally grateful.”

  That was the sales pitch. Protect these people for virtually no return… Could he bring himself to leave these people behind? He needed someone to show him the most efficient route, didn’t he? Yeah, he did. Never mind whatever contacts this Ernesto was bound to have. No way this was a solo operation. Too much experience. There must have been a support network, or a pickup at least.

  “How long would we be traveling?” Finn asked.

  He could tell from the way Ernesto’s face lit up that his words inspired hope. “Taking into account the fact we are in Colombia, it should take a few weeks at most to reach my contact, whom I assure you will be ready with enough flying vehicles to take us all over the border to the US. But I understand you might want some time to consider, so please do. We have a room for you in the far hall second from left.”

  Checking with his senses told him that the indicated room was indeed empty. But he didn’t have much need for sleep these days. Far less than a baseline human. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “I need to check on some things first.”

  He was about to turn and walk off, stopped by a thought popping up in his mind. “What’s the date?”

  Getting up and dusting the snow and dirt off his knees, Ernesto shot him a confused look. “The date? Ah, it’s the eighteenth of March, 2033.”

  Aside from a nod, Finn gave no outward response or reaction before he walked off to a secluded area of the camp.

  He was shocked at how much time had passed, honestly. The fall of the Venin had taken place around the end of the year prior to last. That meant he had spent over a year inside Wanderlust’s dimension. It shouldn’t have been surprising, though. It was just odd to realize that his sixteenth birthday had passed without his knowing, his seventeenth coming up soon.

  With the knowledge that a substantial amount of time had passed, it would be prudent to inquire about the happenings of the world. Ernesto would likely be his source for that; the guy seemed to be well-connected for what was otherwise a relatively insular population. It made sense, he supposed, considering how often the man traveled.

  Leaning on the wall of a shed-like building full of tools, Finn contemplated the request he’d received. To help the upwards of forty people through a war-torn country with primebeasts on the loose—

  The auras lit up instantly, no warning whatsoever. Finn’s jaw dropped as he suddenly saw everyone in a way he hadn’t just moments earlier. Paloma’s relief, fear, sorrow and contentment while she finished her meal. Ernesto’s persistent worry.The general uncertainty pervading the camp.

  And they all lacked the dark spot in their heads. Even Ernesto, whose power was clearly denoted by the slightly elevated reality of his aura. This… This was…

  Terrible.

  The number of individuals whose aura he had ever been able to sense yesterday was less than a handful. A couple of powered humans who took up a lot of his thoughts, each for vastly different reasons.

  His chest constricted as the realization sank in, dragging him under like he was chained to a metal ball in the sea.

  Lyra was like Omega.

  The evidence was damning. He couldn’t come up with any other way to explain it. His breathing quickened, and he tried to think of what he should do. But he didn’t have anything. Neither of them were within reach.

  What was that blob thing? No one else besides them had it. It wasn’t a subconscious. So what? Their power, did that explain Lyra’s “inner voice?”

  Finn slumped. Maybe Omega hadn’t been lying at all. Maybe it wasn’t that he hadn’t gained his unbinding yet and it would simply be a matter of time, but that his power fundamentally couldn’t.

  Because it was enmeshed with him. The same way Lyra was entangled with hers.

  Omega had seemed in sync with the thing in his head while Lyra hadn’t. Did that mean he had already given in while Lyra was still in the process of being taken over? Was it possession at all? Closer to fusion? Did it make a difference? Her words bubbled back up in his mind, unbidden.

  “I don’t want you to tell me, but if you ever see something dangerous in my emotions, like a serious threat… Can you stop me?”

  Finn bit down a scream, hoping above everything that Lyra was safe, and that he could get to her in time. Despite those hopes, another thought rose in his mind.

  What if he was already too late?

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