As dawn slowly covered the city, Garrett left the dream, and spent a few moments just lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Things were going well, exceptionally well, but he knew that there was a storm coming, pushing him closer and closer to the centers of power where those who ruled Insomnium plotted and schemed. Rather than be worried, he welcomed the challenge, recognizing that there was no way for him to avoid what was going to come, so he figured he might as well embrace it.

As he got up and got dressed, Garrett sensed Ryn arriving at his door, and even before she knocked, he called for her to come in. Opening the door a crack, she stuck her head in.

"Hey, there's some old guy out front, says he's looking for you."

Garrett, who had already been alerted of this by the dream flowers that covered the Dreamers Inn, nodded.

"Would you mind pushing me out there?”

“Do you mind if I take a bath first?" Ryn said, tugging at the dark shirt she wore. "It's been a long night, and I'm a bit grungy."

"Sure, take your time. We're in no rush. I'll be in my office."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

While Ryn went to get a bath, Garrett made his way to his office. He wasn't worried about causing the old man out front to wait, and in fact, thought that the longer he made him wait, the better. When Ryn and Garrett finally entered the great room, they found the older man waiting for them was still standing by the door, exactly where Ryn had left him. He was tall and thin, and his face could have been chiseled from stone. There was absolutely no emotion on it, and as he stood there, he almost seemed to fade into the background, vanishing from sight. He wore the clothes of a high-ranked servant, and as his dull brown eyes alighted on Garrett, he took a step forward and bowed, his every movement crisp.

"Good morning, Master Garrett."

Having already mentally prepared himself for this encounter, Garrett just nodded.

"Hello, Vester."

Even as he said the word, he found himself having to fight to keep his body from tensing. Vester was the chief steward of his father's household, and for many reasons, as a young boy, Garrett had developed an intense fear of the stone-faced old man. Now, despite having become an entirely new person, with tremendous power in his own right, Garrett still found that his body's instinctive response was to tremble. This didn't bode well for when Garrett met his father, but he pushed that worry out of his mind, and instead raised his eyebrow at Vester, as if asking why the old man had come.

"Your father received your letter," Vester said, straightening up and looking down at Garrett along his long nose, "and is quite gratified to hear you are well. He had feared the worst after the incident, and expressed relief to find his fears unfounded. He requests your presence at your earliest convenience, and instructed me to escort you."

"Well, you see, I'm afraid I have a rather busy day planned," Garrett said, hoping to see at least a twitch.

On the old servant's face, instead, he just got a calm, cold stare.

"I'm sure your plans can wait, Master Garrett. After all, your father does not appreciate being kept waiting." Ryn clearly didn't like the old man's tone, but a mental command from Garrett kept her from jumping across the room and slapping the teeth right out of his face. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Garrett nodded.

"Fine. We can go this morning, but only after I've had my breakfast."

"Of course, sir."

Pushing him to one of the tables, Ryn sat down next to him as Francis brought out their breakfast. As if by magic, Vester appeared next to Garrett, taking the food from the startled cook and serving it. For the entirety of the meal, he stood behind Garrett, assisting him with his napkin, his silverware, any additional food Francis brought out, and making sure his cup stayed full. Though she was thrown off at first, Ryn was startled at how professional the old man was, never getting in the way and moving in absolute silence. Still, his very presence dampened the atmosphere of the inn, and with a sigh, Garrett finally pushed his plate back.

"I find myself without an appetite with you here," he said, glancing up at Vester, who simply inclined his head and apologized in the same calm voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. If you're done with your meal, now might be a wonderful time to go and see your father."

"Sure. Lead the way."

Ryn immediately jumped up and took the handles of Garrett's wheelchair, pushing him out into the yard as Vester followed behind. There was a large carriage waiting outside, and as soon as they left the inn, the footman, who had been standing with the horses, hurried over to open the carriage door. For the first time, Vester seemed to freeze, not quite knowing what to do. But Ryn came to Garrett's rescue, picking him up and lifting him into the carriage, as if he weighed nothing. That earned her an extra long look from Vester, which she ignored. When she started to get into the carriage, Vester coughed lightly into his fist, as if clearing his throat.

"Excuse me, young master, but your father would like to see you alone."

"Do you really think—" Ryn started to say, and Garrett cut her off with a wave.

"It's fine, Ryn. Thank you very much for your help. I'll be back later this afternoon."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Ryn asked, her hard stare never leaving Vester's emotionless face.

"It is my home," Garrett said. "Or at least, the home where I grew up. I'm sure I'll be fine."

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Though she knew that Garrett was even stronger than she was, Ryn still was loath to let him out of her sight. She had clearly taken a disliking to Vester, and the thought of sending Garrett with him rubbed her the wrong way. Still, she knew better than to argue with Garrett, and so she stepped back and instructed the footman to put Garrett's wheelchair on the roof, and only let them leave once she was sure that it had been secured.

The ride through the city was long, and more than once Garrett saw Vester's eyes drifting to his missing wrist and hand, though it was impossible to tell whether the steward was curious or not. Garrett found himself wondering at the man's thoughts. Before he could ask, however, they pulled up to a modest looking home on the outskirts of the noble district, and a wave of memories rushed through Garrett's head.

This was the Klein family home, passed down for six generations by those who served the royal family. Each member of the Klein family who had owned the home had served in different capacities, slowly climbing from servants in the royal palace until they wielded power comparable to even the strongest of nobles. Garrett's grandfather had been the one who convinced the late king to assign Garrett as the study companion for Prince Everan, and who had groomed Garrett's father, Victor Klein, to be the king's most trusted advisor.

Ostensibly, the Klein family was absolutely neutral, not taking part in any of the power plays that gripped the city. And once, Garrett had actually believed that to be true. He knew better now, however, and as the carriage drew up to the front door, he found himself short of breath. If there was one thing that Garrett had been avoiding doing since arriving in this world, it was facing Victor Klein. But now, he couldn't put it off any longer.

Hearing the sound of his wheelchair being unhooked and carried down from the roof of the carriage caused his heartbeat to increase. When the door opened and Vester picked him up to carry him out of the carriage, Garrett felt stuffy in his chest. Settling himself in his wheelchair, he took a deep breath as it was lifted up the stairs to the front door, which opened wide, leading into a simple hallway.

There was a single maid standing in the hall to welcome them, and in a quiet voice, she alerted Vester that the master of the house was in the library. There was nothing ornate about this house. No fancy decorations. No gilt molding. The wallpaper was simple. The ceilings painted white. The only ornamentation was a single functional mirror that stood over a small table by the door. As he breathed in, Garrett could smell years of history. His own history.

"Bring Master Garrett," Vester said to the maid, who hurried behind Garrett's wheelchair, gingerly taking hold of the handles and pushing him down the hall after the steward.

Garrett could have found his way to the library himself. After all, every inch of this house was firmly fixed in his mind. But instead, he used the time that it took to get from the front door to the library to calm his racing heart, to steady his breathing, and to remind himself that while he was still Garrett Klein, he was now much more.

Still, it was hard to stop the wave of emotions that raced through him when he saw past Vester into the library. Nothing had changed, from the books on the walls to the dozen portraits hung above the fireplace. A simple wooden desk in front of the fire was occupied by a handsome man whose dark hair was just starting to turn gray. His face was wider than Garrett's, with an almost brutish set to his jaw and cheekbones, and his body was thick, not delicate like Garrett's. He didn't look up as the door opened, instead continuing to write with slow, measured movements. It wasn't until he had finished what he was writing that he put his pen down and glanced up, fixing a pair of intensely blue eyes on Garrett as Vester announced Garrett's arrival.

"Leave us."

With a bow, Vester left the room, the frightened-looking maid hurrying out in front of him. Garrett heard the doors shut behind him as he matched his father's intense stare.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Victor Klein said. "Come over here."

Suppressing the urge to sigh, Garrett pushed on the wheels of his wheelchair, rolling himself forward. There was a flash of something in his father's eyes, though Garrett had no idea what sort of emotion it was. He could guess that it wasn't complimentary. For a long while, his father stared at him, taking in every inch of his appearance, before speaking in a heavy voice, "Why didn't you send me a letter sooner?"

Suppressing the urge to quickly come up with excuses, Garrett examined what was going on in his mind and body with a sort of detached interest. As the two souls had fused together in this body, he found that he had inherited a stronger personality from Geller, likely because Geller had lived longer and had a much clearer sense of who he was. On the other hand, the young nobleman had brought a significant number of physical memories to him.

Even though this was the first time that Garrett had truly encountered the man sitting at the desk in front of him, his body remembered every single terrible moment of growing up under Victor Klein's iron-fisted control. All of this raced through Garrett's head in a fraction of a second, as he tried to decide how he was going to engage with this father of his. He felt no love for Victor, and even if he had, would have likely had a hard time accepting Victor as his father. No father appeared in his memories from Earth, and as those memories merged with the memories of a childhood in this world, Garrett found himself disinclined to give that title to the hard man he now faced. Like each member of the Klein family before him, Victor presented a calm and studious persona to the outside world, while ruling his family as the most brutal of tyrants. He beat his twisted worldview into his children, just as it had been beaten into him.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced in Garrett's mind, and he felt his heart turn cold. It had taken him a while to remember just why he was so afraid of the man in front of him, but once the memory came, Garrett found it hard to refrain from reaching across the space between them and snapping the man's neck. The memory was exceptionally clear, of the body of his older sister, once bright and cheerful, lying in a battered heap at the bottom of the stairs. Her broken body was unmoving, as her rage-filled father stood on the landing above, his ice-cold glare daring Garrett, who had witnessed the whole violent affair, to speak. Closing his eyes for a moment, Garrett took control of his surging emotions. When he spoke, his voice was just as calm as his father's.

"I thought it better to have something to replace what I lost before I reached out."

The answer caught Victor off guard, and his forehead furrowed as he looked at Garrett with a searching gaze, trying to understand if his son was telling the truth. Wordlessly, Garrett just lifted up his right arm, which ended in a stump, as if providing further explanation for his statement.

"I see. And what have you brought me?" Victor said, not bothering to suppress the disgust that appeared in his eyes as he looked at Garrett's missing hand.

"Though not the largest gang in the city, I took over a group of smugglers and have built it into something rather impressive, considering how short of a time I've been at it."

A slow smirk spread across Victor's face, and he shook his head.

"A gang? Really, Garrett? Didn't I teach you better than that?"

"You taught me it's better to hold power where you can, father. And that's what I'm doing. I happened to land in the midst of some trouble, but through it, gained access to one of the only smuggling routes leading out of the city. We can move goods in through the swamp, into the city, without the city guard being any the wiser. On top of that, I've risen to one of the ten seats that control the gangs in the city, and have allies among the other seats. Though our gang doesn't have the strongest fighting force, thanks to our allies, we're able to remain stable."

"And you think this is enough for you to come crawling back here?"

Meeting his father's intense blue eyes with a calm stare, Garrett shook his head.

"No, the real thing that gave me confidence to write you that letter was Princess Eloise, who is currently staying with me."