Domrik started awake to the sound of his wristpad's ringtone. For a moment, he thought it was his imagination, or part of the dream that was already fading away into obscurity. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he sat up from his sleeping position and grabbed his wristpad from the coffee table. With a tap, the library lights bloomed on.

The caller ID was blocked. He knew whom this was.

He answered. "Domrik here."

"Lazen," the Commander's voice rang with less authority than intended over the speakers. "Consider yourself lucky you know people in high places. We expect you to arrive no later than ten-hundred hours at Ravvenson Guard Base. I can discuss nothing further with you until then. Am I clear?"

Domrik nodded eagerly, remembering too late that the Commander couldn't see him. "Yes, sir."

"See you at ten-hundred," the man grunted. The call ended.

Domrik sat staring at the blinking total call time again. The shock he felt was similar, but the reason was completely different. Somewhere within him, his inner anarchist was going berserk over the two words he had uttered in response to the Commander's question.

"Yes, sir," he muttered to himself, bewildered by the sound of his own voice. It was agonizing to admit, but he resented those two little words, the words of unthinking drones doing the bidding of others. It almost felt worse than swearing. Part of him wanted to make light of the phrase, to say that it was a reflexive thing with little consequence, but that was the point. It was the unconscious yielding to authority that gave authority its power. Had he fallen into the trap that easily?

I wade in dangerous tides, he thought, standing to stretch his legs. How many steps was he willing to take until something within the murky waters pulled him under? He gazed in the general direction of the Augmentor Bow's hiding spot. Maybe I'm already under.

He looked up the location of the base. It would be another hour-long drive. He checked the time, and had to blink several times to make sure he was seeing clearly. It was already 8:30. That was a personal record for his latest waking time, and today was not the day to do it.

He fetched his travel bag out of the cabinet and packed a bunch of extra reactive shielding pads and combat gloves. He was sure they'd outfit him with better, but it wouldn't hurt to bring his own supplies. It could've been a trap.

He paused, glancing at his wristpad. He'd forgotten to contact Kelly. He wanted to inform her of the events about to unfold, but he also found it unnecessary to tell her things about which she could do nothing. His mind was already made up. He was going.

But I promised her, he remembered with chagrin. He would be sure to make promises more sparingly in the future. In the end, he settled for a compromise. He sent her a message: "I'm going."

Just as he finished packing everything he thought he needed, his stomach growled. He wolfed down one of his premade breakfasts he kept stored in his minifridge for times like this. While finishing the last of the scrambled eggs and sausage, he had an idea. A dangerous idea.

He took the travel bag into the library and retrieved the Augmentor Bow to measure it against the length of the bag. The bow looked to be a few centimeters longer than a meter, while the bag was a meter and a half long. He frowned. It would fit easily. That made the decision difficult. How likely were they to search through all his belongings when he arrived? The answer was then made irrelevant when he realized he could just cloak the Bow if they searched through his bag. Surely, the security guards were not clued in to the possibility of illusion magic, let alone his own abilities.

He searched through the bag, looking for a good place to hide the Bow, when he found an inner pouch at the bottom. He unzipped it and slid the artifact in grip-first. It fit snugly, almost as if the pouch were made for it. He zipped the bag up completely and stood back. There was no visual indication that the bag contained anything interesting, though he found it comically strange to feel the subtle majesty of the Bow's presence emanating from such a mundane object.

Now he had to decide on the sanity of this move. Worst-case, he was found out, the mission was called off, and he was thrown in jail. Best-case, he had no need for it, and he returned home as if nothing happened.

He shook his head, remembering advice Eleanor had shared with him years ago. A decision made without consulting the heart is an incorrect decision.

He picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He exited the library and made his way toward the front of the studio, then he stopped.

How does this feel? he inquired. Rationalizations played on repeat in the back of his mind, muddying the waters of his perception. He gazed back hesitantly at the library's double doors. He backtracked a step, and he noticed the tension within him fade. When he took a few strides to the front door, the tension returned. Those observations painted a clearer picture, though not the prettiest. Fear was trying to push him away from taking the Bow with him. Upon that realization, his decision was simple.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He tossed the bag on the passenger's seat and started the car, his internal alarms still clawing for his attention. They lectured him with the same proclamations as when he was preparing for the heist. This was a mistake. He would regret it. Maybe it was. Maybe he would. Once again, he had to lean into the faith that everything happened for a reason. He didn't believe in coincidences, therefore, he couldn't believe in mistakes.

He set the destination for Ravvenson Guard Base and left without further hesitation. As soon as he left the parking lot, it was easier to relax. The commitment settled him.

Not one minute later, his wristpad rang again. His heart jumped. Kelly was calling. For a moment, he considered letting it go to voice mail, but his conscience had him pick up.

Kelly's voice was tinged with sleepiness, but her frustration was clear enough. "Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you," Domrik said. Though it wasn't technically true, he knew better than to give her more than she needed. "It's a secret."

"You and your fucking secrets!" She was fully awake now.

He rolled his eyes. "Kelly, trust me on this, alright? You helped me acquire the Augmentor Bow, for which I am beyond grateful. This is my challenge. This is my catalyst. Let me face it."

"Ugh," she growled, brooding silently for several seconds. "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"Nope," he said a bit more triumphantly than intended.

Another pause. "Whatever the hell you've gotten yourself into, you'd better survive, or I'm going to chase you down in the lower Aetheric Planes and kick your Aetheric ass."

He couldn't help but giggle. "Glad I have incentive to stay incarnate."

She huffed a laugh, then her voice went serious. "Bring him back."

He nodded. "Will do."

She needed no more explanation, ending the call on her own. He relaxed, grateful that the confrontation went as smooth as it did. Her final statement had bolstered his confidence somewhat, though he admitted to himself that saving Jase wasn't the goal yet. Depending on what happened, he might not have a say in the matter. That was a difficult fact to accept.

Navigation took him to a complex of grey buildings nestled between a trio of tree-covered hills. A tall iron fence ran around the perimeter of the place, and he would have thought he was driving himself to a prison were it not for the entrance decorated with the bold orange letters of the base's title.

He rolled down the window as he approached the man in the booth. The agent eyed him with practiced suspicion. "Identification, and your reason for visiting."

"Domrik Lazen. The Commander is expecting me in... about ten minutes."

The agent checked a panel Domrik couldn't see, then gave him a curt nod. "You are clear to enter."

The gate buzzed and rolled aside. The base was one of those older designs where the buildings were clustered around the end of a traditional airstrip that ran through the valley between two of the hills. It appeared to harbor both traditional turbine aircraft and modern Guard Jets. They both ran on Aetherite, but the former only used it to provide power to propellers, while the latter used the Aether itself as the propellant. Both variations had their strengths, which was why traditional aircraft stayed relevant after the invention of true Aetheric engines.

Domrik followed the road markings indicating the way to guest parking. An agent dressed in the same navy-blue and gold trim uniform stood at the grass-lined edge. Her eyes followed his car as he chose a nearby parking spot. He gazed at the travel bag on the passenger's seat. The inconspicuous object gazed back. He hooked the strap around his shoulder and got out of the car.

"You won't be needing that, Mr. Lazen," the officer stated, walking toward him with a steady stride. "We have more than enough equipment."

He paused, noting the seriousness in her gaze, then nodded. He plopped the bag back into the car. After he made sure the car was locked, she extended a formal hand. "Guard Major Annette Bansen. I will show lead you to your team."

"Domrik Lazen," he replied, engaging in the firm handshake. "I have a team?"

"They are waiting in Hangar Five, if you'll follow me."

The silent two-minute walk ended at a fan of pavement branching off from the main runway, with seven hangars arranged in a bordering semicircle. The enormous garage door of Hangar Five was open, revealing a squad of three Guard Jets parked side-by-side. The dark, chevron-shaped craft hovered silently, but as Domrik approached, he saw they were suspended by cables that blended in with the grey interior.

"Don't they have landing legs?" he asked, trailing a few steps behind the Major.

"They are being replaced," she replied. "Standard operating procedure."

A group of soldiers sat on crates and chairs against the back wall, their conversation quieting as the two approached. Their gazes trailed toward Domrik, ranging from suspicious to confused. They wore uniforms similar to the Major's but with one golden star fewer.

"Guards," the Major announced, turning toward Domrik. "Meet Specialist Lazen."

Specialist. Domrik kept his expression steady as he surveyed the group. His voice was tight. "Hello, thank you for being here."

He received hardly a blink in return. The general energy of the group matched their expressions. Irritated, scornful, and impatient.

"Guard Team Seven," the Major said, sweeping an arm from left to right. "Lieutenants Rokin Avosta, Levi Yattro, Petra Sparn, Alan Landry, and Guard Captain Minni Faekin."

Each of the soldiers gave a small nod as they were announced. Domrik's polite side wanted to shake their hands, but his wise side had already clued in to their attitude.

"This team has been chosen by the Guard Commander to perform your proposed recon mission over the Antiga Nature Preserve," the Major said. "You will spend the next seven hours becoming acquainted with them, if it is still your desire to partake in the mission."

Her gaze grew expectant. Domrik gave a curt nod.

She continued, "Before anything else, however, we need you to sign more agreements. I will go over them with you, then you will meet the team in the armory. Any questions?"

"Why am I a specialist?" The question leapt out before he gave it much thought.

The Major's mouth twitched momentarily into a smirk. "Because you're special."

"No, I'm serious."

She shrugged in surrender. "You mimicked my question to the Commander. I mimicked his response."