He barely had enough money to pay for a taxi, in order to get to the airport. It was dark by the time he had gotten there, which made him question if he would still be flown somewhere.

However, when he arrived at the airport, two men in black suits, with a balding head, greeted him. "Are you Sebastian Isolmn?"

"Ison," Sebastian corrected. It didn't seem like they understood. "Ison is how you say it." The two men looked at each other, shrugged, and looked back at him.

"Follow us. Did you bring the letter?" The two men turned around, seemingly uncaring about an answer.

"No," he nervously admitted. "Is it needed?"

The rightmost man, who had a darker skin than the other one, but not dark enough to be called black, answered. "It is not needed. However, it would help in a couple of things that you do not have to worry about."

"Mostly administrative purposes," the other guy added, giving a glance backwards. They were both wearing sunglasses. "Just don't worry about it." Still moving, he turned around, taking off his sunglasses, showing eyes that held dark clouds. "By the way, you are the one I've got my bets on. So, please, don't lose." He turned back around, with the other man whispering to him. Heated as it sounded, Sebastian could not hear it.

They brought him to a private plane, which seemed tiny next to the other Airplanes surrounding it. The two almost pushed him up the stairs, leaving him no time to question anything, except for an Omega sign. The next thing he knew, they were in the air, as he stared down at the ground.

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There were no clouds, which allowed him to see right to the empty ground, at a height that made humans too small to see. It weirded him to see how small his town was. He could hide it behind the palm of his hand, but felt reluctant to do so.

"Sorry to ask you of this," said the brighter one, swinging into the seat across from him, "But I will ask you to change. Hopefully, you have a shower, too, but there won't be time for that." He placed a briefcase on the table, opening the contents to show neatly folded suits fit for a model. He had never touched anything like it before.

"But, why, Mr. ...?" he started, not finishing his sentence.

"Please, call me Z. And purely because we have a reputation to uphold." He pushed it further across the table, almost causing it to fall onto his lap.

Sebastian took it, heading into an onboard changing room. He wasn't sure if planes were supposed to have changing rooms.

He looked at himself in the mirror, now changed into a Hawaiian shirt that neatly fit him, and khaki shorts. To him, he was giving off quite a Dad-on-vacation look. He chuckled at how it was slightly true.

He lost his smile, immediately worrying about Sophie. She should have realised that he was gone by now, but what if she didn't? His mind was going down a rabbit hole, unable to think rationally.

"Are you done yet?"

Z's voice shocked him out of his stupor, bringing him back to the now. He was doing this for her. How could he falter?

"Yes," came his voice, unfaltering. He opened the door, showing off the clothes with a big grin. Z stood there, slackjawed, at Sebastian.

Grabbing his jaw from the floor, he said, "I didn't think it would look so good. If you want to have a nap, go ahead, and if you want food, just ask for it," he added, wandering away.

Sebastian had decided to take a nap. He would've thought it would be harder, but it was quite easy.