Cal had mixed feelings about being pulled out of his first class. It was nice to avoid an early morning lecture, but it also let his mind run wild with speculation as to why he was being summoned.

Had he somehow been connected to the Whistling Death? Was the deputy about to blame Alice's explosion on him? Was some other authority figure now after his guts?

All those questions disappeared upon finding out it had been Professor Wyatt. The worst that could have happened there was horribly failing that test.

Right?

No, that was not the worst thing that could have happened.

Cal stared at the board displaying a vaguely familiar diagram. It sat there, mocking him for his hubris. With dilated eyes and a jaw working overtime, Wyatt stood next to it. He'd wasted no time ambushing Cal with a barrage of questions. Between the teacher's lively demeanor and the nonsensical nature of the questions thrown at him, Cal had been suitably lost. That was until he took a look at the schematic Wyatt had been referencing. It did not take a genius to understand what had happened.

Which was a good thing because Cal was not a genius. At best, he thought himself slightly above average. So when Wyatt blabbered on about how revolutionary a design it was and how it had come from Cal, of all people, he knew there was only one explanation.

Cal had accidentally given up state secrets. He wasn't sure they were classified as such, but Wyatt's reaction safely confirmed that the scribblings in those textbooks were far more valuable than he'd originally thought. Intellectually, Cal knew better than to carelessly distribute Millie's incoherent notes. He just hadn't known that's what he was doing at the time. Technically, he still didn't know that for sure. There was a slim possibility he was an actual genius and was just ignorant of that fact.

That may have sounded far-fetched, but it was better than accepting his stupid brain had probably just seen the word converter and pulled out whatever it associated with that. He'd have to check the books to be sure. While he was at it, he should burn the lot of them. Should, but wouldn't. Because, as foolish as he was to keep a treasure trove of information in an enemy state, they were a gift. Illogical or not, he'd sooner declare war on the entirety of the world than part with them.

Besides, the genie had left the bottle and Cal had no way of putting it back. Or he could if he were willing to kill Wyatt and Mia. The teacher was a maybe, but as for the quiet girl? Not a chance. He wouldn't repay her kindness like that.

Which meant the diagram was out there and would eventually filter out across the Empire. His current hosts might not know of its true origins, but the Federation certainly would. How long it would take to get into their hands was anyone's guess, but Federation spies—present company excluded—were good at their jobs.

Olivia was going to kill him. Hells, he might let her. He was no stranger to committing treason, but at least the last time it had been intentional.

Cal took some blame for this, but he refused to shoulder the whole thing alone. If the smartest person in the world handed a book to someone visiting an enemy state, then any rational person would assume the contents had already been reviewed and deemed to be harmless.

As someone who knew the woman well, this was obviously not the case. She had definitely passed it to him without any concern for the sensitive material contained inside. That didn't change his story for when it came time to face the trial board.

He was being a tad dramatic, as it wouldn't get that far. They would never go after Millie; he wasn't sure they even could. Mask might hold the title of most dangerous, but ask anyone who the most important member of the Constellation was, and she would be the first name mentioned. She was the lynchpin of the Federation's technological base.

Members of the Constellation were trump cards, that much was true, but believing their use only came in solving problems was wrong. They were public relations tools, fashioned as celebrities for the people to cling to. Citizens could look up at them and feel comfort in knowing that no enemies would be able to pass by Aegis, that no disaster escaped Oracle's sight, and that anyone who crossed their country would see their lives cut short by…Her.

Mask's role was ambiguous by design for plausible deniability, but Millie was the face of progress in the Federation. Her identity was intertwined with the concept itself. Any action against her attacked a tenet the Federation was built on. In short, her image managers had done far too good a job. He would not say she was untouchable, as she had to stick out her neck for him, but if it could be swept under the rug, chances are it would be.

The real reason he was panicked was that there was no way he'd be able to convincingly portray a genius. Playing an idiot was hard enough; how in the hells was he supposed to pretend he knew what all this gibberish meant? His facade would break apart instantly and with it, his entire identity.

"-and can you elaborate on the placement of the capacitor you drew in problem number seven?"

The words kicked him out of his head. The question highlighted an enormous problem for him. That converter diagram he'd copied may have been correct, but he had been guessing for most of the test. There was no telling what was legitimate advanced work taken from Millie's notes and what was Cal's brain flailing for an answer.

And yet he had to defend both categories. He'd love to wave off the entire thing as beginner's luck, but it was far too detailed for that.

More words came through, but apart from recognizing they were back to discussing the converter, he didn't pay them any mind.

He had no insights to give. His only hope was to go back to the dorms and reread all the notes. After some weeks of study, they might make more sense to him. Cal prided himself on his speed, but he could not realistically run back to the dorm, speed read, and then come back without anyone noticing.

Not even Millie explained this shit well-

Cal looked up, wondering if a light bulb would be shining above his head. There wasn't, but that didn't diminish the moment of clarity he'd just experienced.

With the laziest shrug he could muster, Cal responded to any and all questions Wyatt had supplied.

"What's the problem?"

Wyatt stopped mid-question, blinking at him. Cal figured he was trying to prioritize what he wanted explained.

"This parallel circuit here." He tapped on the board. "I noticed it was placed further from the rest, but I can't reason why that would be the case."

Probably because Cal was shit at drawing.

"Isn't it obvious?" He responded in a bored tone.

Wyatt shook his head in denial. He was about to follow up when Cal spoke again.

"Have you looked at it?"

He was being a bit mean, but it beat pulling an explanation out of his ass. These also weren't random lines being thrown out. No, if he had to pretend to be a genius, then who better to parrot than an actual genius?

'Read it again.'

'It's pretty straightforward.'

'Do you get it yet?'

Prodigy had a hard time translating things into normal speech. Even the lines he'd just given were the 'nice' ones reserved for him. He'd seen her reduce grown adults to tears after they tried to ask questions about her work. Millie didn't suffer fools, and to her, that was just about everyone.

"Maybe you should sleep on it," Cal delivered the closing line. He didn't emulate the pat to the head while saying it, but he'd heard it many times himself. It was a gentle way of saying, 'Please leave me alone. I can't make this any simpler.'

In this case, it might actually be applicable. Wyatt's eyes were more bloodshot than usual and he was swaying on his feet, constantly having to support himself on the desk or the board. Cal glanced back at Mia, who was sitting at a desk while reading a book.

"Hey Mia," Cal intruded on the girl's peace. "Do you know when was the last time he slept?"

It felt strange to ask such a question to a student, but he had a feeling she would know this type of thing.

Mia looked up, tilting her head in consideration. She inclined it to Wyatt and spoke not a word. Despite not being the intended recipient, Cal could feel the weight behind that stare.

Wyatt shook his head again, almost losing his balance. Cal reached out, steadying the man so he didn't fall.

"I can't sleep now; there's so much-," Wyatt's voice hitched as the brown eyes intensified their disapproval of them. "That's not fair…"

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Mia nodded once, and her mouth parted to deliver her single-word follow-up.

"Okay."

Cal began to wonder what the nature of their relationship was. He knew it wasn't a normal one, but she was almost acting like his parent. Her response had been brief, but he could practically hear the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed' undercurrent in it.

Wyatt must have as well, and all the fight left him. He slouched, pulling out a chair and collapsing into it.

Just when Cal thought he was finally safe, her eyes turned back to him. Neither of them spoke, the only sounds in the room being from Wyatt's soft snoring.

"Mia," Cal opened, approaching her and pulling out a chair to sit on the other end of the table she was occupying. "Something you want to say?"

For a woman with so few words, she knew how to convey her intent well. He didn't even need to ask, as they both knew there was something she was meaning to get off her chest. His eyes strayed to that silver hair clip of hers. Appearances could be deceiving. He knew that, but sometimes it was easier to play along than call someone out.

Her hand went to a folder on the table, and his stomach started to twist.

Heedless of his thoughts, she flipped it open and paged through some documents before placing them on the table one by one.

None of the slips of paper made him worry, mostly because he didn't know what he was looking at. He recognized charts and graphs when he saw them, but he hadn't had to review them in a while, so he wasn't sure what exactly he was looking at.

"Assessment," she said, her hand hovering over a bell curve. She tapped the far right of it. "Genius." The finger moved to the exact opposite side of the graph before inching just the slightest bit more to the right. "You."

Cal frowned, a smidge of irritation coming over him. He'd known his marks weren't exactly stellar, but having it presented in a graph was a cruel reminder. The only thing to soften the blow was that he was not completely at the low end, just mostly.

"I wasn't given what you might call a standard education," Cal responded quickly. "There are a lot of topics I was never taught and even if I was, they don't really matter."

It was an easy thing to say. Prodigy and he had that in common.

Cal crossed his arms, furrowing his brow and looking down at nothing in particular. It had just occurred to him that she might have been a contributor to that attitude of his. She wasn't the source; he knew himself well enough to know that, but she was the first person he'd properly communicated with.

For such an impactful day, he could hardly recall it. The years had blurred the memory. What was it, ten? Eleven now? That sounded right. His mind began to sort through the fog, picking out the pieces. He remembered being surprised by her arrival. The knocking on the door had made him jump. The only other occupant of the cabin was not a knocker, and even if She was, She'd been passed out on the couch. Had he been trying to stab Her at the time? No, the timeline was off. He would have already known that was an impossibility by then.

He'd tried waking Her, but she was unresponsive. That would normally be a cause of celebration, but he didn't know what was on the other side of that door, and better the devil you knew. In hindsight, that thought was wrong, but when you grew up surrounded by beasts trying to eat you, being killed instantaneously wasn't a bad way to go.

Millie…he wasn't sure what she thought when she first saw him. It might have been worry or confusion. What he did remember was her attitude changing completely after She woke up. He couldn't be certain what had been said, but he remembered being killed, and by the time he had gotten back, her eyes had matched Hers'.

It stung. He remembered mulling over whether to attack her while they babbled in a language he did not yet understand. He didn't, recognizing that if she was at the cabin of all places, he had no recourse against her. He'd gone back to his room and slipped out the window, traversing into the Waste to try his hand at killing something.

After that, it was truly blank. He couldn't pick out anything from the following days, weeks, or months. All he knew was that she'd stop by now and then. Things changed, as they often tended to. Thinking back, it was her innate curiosity at work, thinking he was some grand puzzle to solve. She'd come by to talk, sometimes empty-handed, sometimes with a book or two. He hadn't known what she was saying, but repeated one-sided conversations were enough for him to gradually pick up the language.

Cal smiled, the built-up anxiety within him draining. Most of his memories of the cabin were bad, but there were exceptions. Sitting on a couch and just blabbing with Millie were some of the best. What they talked about was a mystery, but he could recall talking her ear off. He'd been a bit of a blabbermouth, having not had someone to converse with in who knew how long.

Movement in front of him reminded him of his current interrogation, or at least that's what he thought was happening. Mia signaled out another page.

"Current," she said while referring to a, in his opinion, good-looking graph. "Explain."

As a certified not genius, it took him a second to grasp her meaning. His grades were good, great even, but they weren't perfect. And that was without considering he was in mostly easy classes.

"Everything I do is in an effort to not get yelled at." That wasn't entirely true, but it was more true than he was comfortable with. "Even with that, a lot of this stuff doesn't interest me."

Seeing her unspoken skepticism, Cal repeated the tactic used on Lily.

"Aren't you the same?" He turned it back to her. "You're always reading and pretending the rest of the world doesn't matter. Which I'm not saying it does." It did, but far be it for him to criticize how she lived her life. "But you understand what I'm getting at, right?"

He hoped she did because he had a tenuous enough grasp on it himself. If he had to peg what charade he was trying to put on, it would be that of a bored genius.

"Like me?" Cal nearly jumped in his seat at her voice. It wasn't loud, but it was a far cry from the usual softness of her speech. Her eyes narrowed, and they alternated between him and Wyatt slowly. "Ah," she said slowly.

Mia gathered the papers, stacking them together and handing the lot of them to him. He took them, holding them awkwardly.

"You don't want it?" She asked a lengthy question, and Cal had a feeling she wasn't talking about the graphs. "Attention."

That cleared it up. No, he most certainly did not. From what little he knew of her, they both shared that.

"It's intimidating," Cal admitted, his tone turning a touch somber. In the back of his mind, he knew where his life had been headed. There were many things he could brush off, but the attention of a nation directed squarely on him—that was a lot to deal with. "I'd like to keep out of the limelight for as long as I can."

It might have been the type of attention he received, but what he experienced now in the Federation was enough for him. He wasn't sure if he wanted or could take more. Yet as much as the star in his pocket reminded him of Millie's trust in him, there was another song it sang. It was of responsibility and expectations.

"Like me," she repeated. "In spirit, not practice."

It sounded like an honest critique of his efforts so far. It wasn't entirely unfair, but he felt he was due a little credit.

"I'm trying over here," he griped in good humor. "Any advice from the master then?"

He was pretty sure that simply trying harder on his own accord would make things worse.

"Escape often," she offered, pointing at her book. "Eases burden."

He wasn't sure how that was going to help, but she was the expert. As far as escapes went, he had cooking, but right now, there was only one place he really wanted to be.

"I lived on the frontier for a while, close to the Waste. There wasn't a lot to do, so hunting became my major pastime." He primarily did it for the magic, but he couldn't deny there was a thrill associated with tearing through all that came to challenge him. "I've been craving some recently, but…" He trailed off for a moment, the beginnings of a plan coming to mind. "Say, Mia, you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, would you?"

Some messages would need to be sent, but Cal had just figured out a way to progress his investigation and earn a little personal time.