Chapter 40

The lair stood quiet, hidden beyond the stretch of trees, where the sounds of the city faded into whispers. Inside, the air was thick, heavy with the scent of old leather and blood that still lingered in the fabric of the Zorro suit, slashed and ruined. It hung limply on the mannequin, its chest torn open from where Grayson had cut it off him, scissors jaggedly slicing through the material as he tried to save a life that had already slipped away. A month had passed since that night—since Andreas had died. His eyes locked on the bloodstained fabric, a dark, dried patch where the bullet had pierced his heart. His hand drifted to the silver scar on his chest, cold and metallic under his fingers. He had been dead for an hour, his pulse gone, his body still. But in the void, it had felt like an eternity—a timeless, empty place with no answers. Since returning, everything felt off. The city, his own body, even his mind. He was alive, but something had changed, and he didn’t know what. The suit could be fixed, but his confusion lingered, as deep and unrelenting as the silence in the lair.

A month had passed since Andreas returned, and Los Angeles felt like it was rotting from the inside out. The discovery of a massive body dump on the outskirts of the city had sent shockwaves through the media, a grim reminder of the deeper, hidden violence lurking just beneath the surface. It wasn’t connected to the Puppet Master, but in the wake of that chaos, he had fully emerged—a grotesque mirror to Zorro, feeding off the fear that gripped the city. His murders were theatrical, brutal, and relentless, as though he were putting on a performance for a dying world. But Zorro hadn’t responded. Grayson had insisted that Andreas stay hidden, and as much as it chafed against his instincts as a Marine, he understood the strategy. If whoever was pulling the strings thought Zorro was gone, they might get sloppy, make mistakes. The media found the body dump a week after Sylvia, and the city’s spiral into fear and uncertainty had only worsened since. Zorro’s absence was part of the plan—no pressure from him meant a chance for those lurking in the shadows to slip up. But with every passing day, the city slipped further into chaos, and the urge to act gnawed at Andreas’ gut like an open wound.

While the city spiraled, Andreas poured his restless energy into training Izumi. It was the only thing that felt like progress, a way to keep moving while he waited for the right moment to act. Izumi’s skills had grown sharper—her scorpion tail now fused with her ninjato, creating a fluid, deadly extension of her fighting style. Every morning, the lair echoed with the clash of blades as Andreas drilled her on swordsmanship, teaching her not just technique, but the discipline that defined him as a Marine. She was fast, precise, but there was always more to learn, and he pushed her hard. Yet there was one area where he couldn’t help her—magic. It gnawed at her, the frustration of seeing only sparks where there should have been something more. Andreas watched her struggle, knowing that she had as many questions as he did, though their burdens were different. His were tied to the silver scars that pulsed under his skin, hers to the magic she couldn’t quite grasp. They were both searching for answers, but with each passing day, those answers felt further away.

In his search for answers, Andreas had turned to the one man he believed might have them—Hugh Lacreux. Back when Andreas had been Hugh’s student, the professor had always seemed to know more than anyone else. His knowledge of ancient myths and obscure history was uncanny, as if he had lived through the events himself. There was a gravity to Hugh, the way he spoke about the past like it was more than just research. Andreas had trusted him then, and he trusted him now. If anyone could help him understand what the silver scars meant, and what had happened to him in the void, it was Hugh. Andreas had reached out weeks ago, and though the waiting gnawed at him, he felt a flicker of hope. Hugh had never been at a loss for answers before, and Andreas held on to the belief that this time wouldn’t be any different. But beneath that hope, the nagging uncertainty remained—what if even Hugh didn’t know?

Andreas had expected Hugh to be more than amicable about meeting. In the past, the professor had always been quick to engage in any discussion that danced around the fringes of the unknown. But when Andreas finally made the call, he wasn’t prepared for the pause that followed after he explained what had happened. The silence on the other end was longer than it should have been, thick with something Andreas couldn’t quite place. Then, in a measured voice, Hugh had invited him to come to his home, not for a casual conversation, but for something more serious. “We’ll talk about it when you have the time,” Hugh had said, but there was a gravity to his words that hadn’t been there before. It left Andreas unsettled, more aware than ever that whatever had happened to him wasn’t just strange—it was something deeper, something Hugh needed to see for himself.

So, a trip to San Diego was set. Hugh, who now taught night classes in anthropology and mythology at the local community college, had extended the invitation to his home. Andreas couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t just academic curiosity driving Hugh’s interest—there was something more. Izumi, always restless when left alone for too long, had insisted on tagging along. Maybe, she thought, Hugh would know something about magic. Andreas wasn’t sure, but it was better than staying stuck in the lair, watching the city fall apart without being able to act. Sylvia was still off in South America, chasing down a lead on a similar body dump to the one found in Los Angeles. While she followed that thread, Andreas was left to navigate the strange, uncharted waters of his own return from death—and having Izumi along, despite her own struggles, felt better than being alone with his questions.

Andreas stood near the door, zipping up his duffel bag, the faint sounds of Izumi packing behind him. She moved quietly, stuffing a few changes of clothes into her backpack along with her laptop and her father’s journal. No weapons this time, just essentials. “You got everything?” Andreas asked, glancing over his shoulder. Izumi nodded, giving her bag one last check. “Yeah, all set,” she replied, her tone casual but focused. Andreas adjusted the strap on his duffel, the weight settling on his shoulder. “Good. We’ll be in San Diego for a few nights,” he said, more for himself than for her. “No point making the drive for just a quick trip.” Izumi smirked faintly, a small flicker of amusement crossing her face. “I figured,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. Andreas took one last look around the lair, his mind already on the road ahead.

Andreas punched in the alarm code, the faint beep of the system blending with the quiet rustle of the trees outside. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing the lair in darkness as they stepped into the cool night air. The sky was overcast, the moon a faint glow behind the clouds, casting a dull, silver sheen over everything. The air smelled of damp earth and pine from the wooded area surrounding the warehouse, with a hint of something distant—maybe smoke from a nearby fire or just the lingering scent of the city creeping through the breeze. Andreas took in a deep breath, the coolness of it cutting through the stillness. Izumi stood beside him, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and they walked together toward the car parked under the low-hanging branches. The gravel crunched beneath their feet with each step, the only sound breaking the quiet. As they loaded their bags into the trunk, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves overhead. Andreas glanced around once, the shadows of the trees thickening as the night settled in. He slammed the trunk shut, his hand lingering on the cool metal for a moment, before moving to the driver’s side. The engine growled to life, breaking the silence as they pulled away from the lair, leaving the isolation of the woods behind.

It was just before dawn when they hit the road, the sky still a deep shade of indigo, with only the faintest hint of light creeping along the horizon. The trees lining the frontage road loomed dark and tall, their silhouettes stretching against the dim glow of the headlights. Andreas kept his eyes on the empty road ahead, the world around them still caught in that strange liminal space before the day fully woke. The occasional distant shape of a horse moved in the fields on the ranches that flanked the road, but otherwise, the world was still. Izumi sat slouched in the passenger seat, her eyes half-closed, barely awake. She gave a sleepy nod when they first pulled out of the lair, but Andreas could already see her eyelids starting to droop. The quiet hum of the engine, combined with the early hour, seemed to lull her quickly. She shifted in her seat, tucking her legs up and wrapping her arms around her backpack like a pillow. Andreas didn’t mind the silence. It gave him space to think as the road stretched ahead of them, endless and dark. The crisp morning air seeped in through the vents, cool and fresh, smelling faintly of damp leaves and the earth still clinging to the night. There was something peaceful about these hours, before the city roared to life—like the calm before the storm.

About an hour into the drive, the sky had shifted from dark blue to the pale gold of morning. The sun had finally risen, casting long shadows across the highway as they sped south. Andreas glanced over at Izumi, curled up against the window, her face relaxed in sleep, her backpack still tucked beneath her arms. The roads were clearer now, the early morning haze lifting as the day crept in. He reached over, gently tapping her arm. “Hey, you want to stop for some Dunkin’?” His voice was low, but it pulled her from sleep. Izumi stirred, blinking groggily as she straightened up, rubbing a hand over her face. “Dunkin’?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Andreas nodded toward the sign up ahead, the familiar pink and orange logo coming into view as they approached an exit. “Coffee, bagels, whatever you want,” he offered, glancing at her with a slight smile. She stretched, her muscles still stiff from the sleep, and gave a small, tired nod. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds good,” she murmured, still half-asleep as she ran a hand through her hair. Andreas flicked the blinker and took the exit, the promise of coffee and a quick break a welcome pause in the long stretch ahead.

Andreas pulled into the Dunkin’ parking lot, easing the car into a spot near the entrance. The tires crunched lightly over the gravel as he shut off the engine, and the car settled into a sudden stillness. Izumi blinked, groggy, the sun finally catching up with them. She stretched in her seat, ready to step out, but then her eyes widened in sudden panic. “Oh no... I need to pee,” she blurted out, practically throwing off her seatbelt. Without a second thought, she bolted from the car, leaving her backpack behind on the floor. Andreas watched her sprint toward the door, shaking his head with a soft laugh.

He climbed out more slowly, closing the car door with a solid thud. The cool morning air bit at his skin, carrying the scent of damp asphalt and the faintest hint of coffee wafting from the building. He locked the car and pocketed the keys as he made his way inside. The warmth of the Dunkin’ wrapped around him as he entered, the sweet smell of coffee and freshly baked goods filling the air. Izumi had already disappeared into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind her with a quick thud, leaving Andreas to casually head to the counter to place their order.

Andreas wandered up to the counter, but he didn’t place the order just yet. Instead, he leaned back slightly, glancing over at the closed bathroom door. The warm buzz of the café surrounded him—the low hum of the coffee machines, the soft chatter of a few early morning customers, and the rhythmic clatter of mugs and trays being set out by the staff. His eyes drifted to the menu overhead, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He could already feel the long drive ahead settling into his muscles. The smell of fresh coffee was tempting, but he’d wait for Izumi.

A minute later, the bathroom door swung open, and Izumi emerged, looking more awake but still a little disheveled. She ran a hand through her hair as she joined him at the counter. “Better?” Andreas asked with a smirk, his voice light with teasing. She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Much,” she replied, stifling a yawn. “Now, let’s get that coffee.” Together, they stepped forward to place their order, the familiar scent of caffeine and fresh pastries surrounding them.

Andreas stepped up to the counter first, keeping it simple. “Just a black coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant,” he said, his voice steady as the cashier tapped it into the register. He glanced over at Izumi, who was still rubbing the last bit of sleep from her eyes, her gaze scanning the menu.

“Iced coffee, caramel swirl,” she started, her voice still carrying a hint of grogginess, “and… a glazed donut.” She paused, biting her lip for a second before adding, “Oh, and a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich.” Andreas raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just smirking slightly as she rattled off the order. The cashier was about to total it up when Izumi’s eyes flicked to the side. “Wait—throw in some hash browns too,” she added quickly, as if they were an afterthought. Andreas chuckled under his breath.

The cashier rang it all up, and Andreas paid without a word, though the small smile lingering on his face made it clear he found her last-minute addition amusing. “What?” Izumi asked, raising an eyebrow as they stepped aside to wait for their food. “Gotta fuel up for the road,” she shrugged, unapologetic.

Outside, the morning air was crisp, the sun now fully above the horizon but still gentle, casting long shadows across the lot. Andreas leaned against the side of the black Charger, setting his coffee on the roof between sips. He stretched his arms overhead, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders after the long drive. Beside him, Izumi did the same, stretching her arms wide with a yawn that seemed to reach down to her toes.

They unwrapped their sandwiches in silence, the quiet of the early morning settling around them. Andreas took a bite of his bacon, egg, and cheese croissant, savoring the warmth of the food against the cool morning air. Izumi, already a few bites into her sandwich, balanced her iced coffee on the roof of the car between sips, a light breeze rustling her hair. The faint smell of exhaust and fresh coffee mingled with the scent of their food, filling the quiet parking lot.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, just standing there, enjoying the calm before getting back on the road. “Not bad,” Andreas muttered between bites, his eyes scanning the empty lot. Izumi nodded in agreement, chewing thoughtfully as she glanced toward the rising sun. They stood there for a while, alternating between bites of their sandwiches and sips of coffee, the Charger acting as their makeshift table.

They ate quickly, both finishing their sandwiches in no time. Andreas crumpled his wrapper into a tight ball, eyes narrowing as he spotted the trash can a good distance away. With a casual flick of his wrist, he launched the wrapper in a perfect arc, sending it sailing cleanly into the bin. Izumi, sipping her iced coffee, raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Okay, that was impressive,” she said, still staring at the trash can as if she hadn’t expected it to land.

Andreas smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he met her gaze. “Marine Force Recon sniper,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “I’ve made harder shots than that.”

Izumi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin creeping onto her face. “I guess I’ll just stick to my donuts,” she muttered, tossing her wrapper into the bin more casually before walking back toward the car. Andreas took a final sip of his coffee, still holding most of it for the road, and followed her.

Sliding back into the driver’s seat, he placed his cup in the holder with a satisfied grin. Izumi hopped into the passenger seat, taking a long pull from her iced coffee as she settled in. The Charger growled to life beneath them, and with one last glance at the empty parking lot, Andreas pulled out, merging smoothly back onto the highway as they headed south.

The landscape around them began to shift as the morning light stretched across Southern California. The highway cut through low hills, their dry, golden grasses swaying gently in the breeze. Patches of stubborn green dotted the rolling fields, remnants of the last rain. The horizon seemed endless, the sky a brilliant blue now that the sun was fully up, casting long shadows against the rugged terrain. Distant mountains loomed, their peaks hazy and soft in the early light, while scattered clusters of scrub brush and cacti punctuated the roadside.

Andreas kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the scenery unfolding around them. The wide-open spaces always felt different at this hour, before the heat of the day took hold. The air through the cracked window smelled faintly of dry earth, tinged with the salt of the nearby coast. The Charger hummed steadily beneath them, carving through the highway, while the occasional car passed them going the opposite direction, catching the sun’s glare off their windshields.

Izumi leaned back in her seat, sipping her iced coffee and watching the changing view through half-lidded eyes. “Not a bad morning for a drive,” she mumbled, though the soft rumble of the engine and the steady motion of the car seemed to be lulling her toward sleep again. Andreas gave a small nod, his focus steady. The calm of the open road and the expanse of the California landscape stretched before them, but the weight of the trip ahead still hung in the background.

After two hours on the road with only a brief stop, they finally pulled into San Diego. The morning sun was well up by now, casting long shadows across the quiet streets as they cruised through the city. Andreas glanced at the time—just before 9 a.m. He knew Hugh wouldn’t be up yet, not officially. The professor had always been a night owl, teaching exclusively night classes and rarely seen in the daylight. If he hadn’t slipped out before dawn, Hugh was most likely in his office, pretending to sleep on the old couch he kept there. Andreas knew better—Hugh never really slept. He was more likely deep in thought, his mind whirring through some obscure historical event or myth.

“We’ve got a few hours,” Andreas said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the car. He turned to Izumi, who had finally shaken off the last bit of drowsiness from the drive. “Hugh doesn’t start moving until later, so he’s probably just... waiting for the day to catch up with him.”

Izumi leaned back, sipping the last of her iced coffee, glancing around at the peaceful streets. “Well, I guess that means we’ve got time to kill,” she said, taking in the calm energy of San Diego, a far cry from the chaos of LA. The thought of a quiet morning, with nothing pressing just yet, felt like a rare moment of calm before whatever was coming next.

Andreas drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as they continued through the quiet streets. The corners of his mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. He glanced over at Izumi, who was gazing out the window, still taking in the calmness of the city. “You ever been on a military base?” he asked casually, the smile widening slightly.

Izumi’s attention shifted from the passing scenery to Andreas, her eyebrows raising in mild surprise. “Nope,” she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why?” She caught the glint in his eyes and smirked. “Are we going sightseeing or something?”

Andreas’ smile deepened, but he didn’t answer right away, just kept his eyes on the road. “Maybe,” he said after a beat, his voice hinting at something more. Izumi leaned back in her seat, intrigued but not entirely sure what to expect.

Andreas chuckled softly to himself, his eyes flicking toward the road ahead. “Figured we’ve got some time to kill, might as well show you something.” He adjusted the wheel, taking a slight turn toward the harbor, the ocean just starting to peek through the cityscape as they neared the waterfront. “I’ll take you to the naval depot. Ever seen the ships up close?” he asked, his tone casual but with a spark of enthusiasm.

Izumi’s eyes widened slightly, her curiosity piqued. “No, never that close,” she admitted, sitting up straighter, her earlier grogginess completely gone.

Andreas nodded, pleased. “Good. Thought it might be worth checking out,” he said, steering the Charger toward the naval yard. In the distance, the massive ships began to come into view, their dark silhouettes looming against the brightening sky. The sight always stirred something in him, a reminder of his past life in the military, the calm and order of it contrasting with the chaos they faced now.

As they approached the depot, the smell of saltwater filled the air, and the large, imposing vessels grew larger, anchored quietly in the harbor. Andreas couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia as they neared, but this wasn’t just about him—Izumi had never seen this side of the world before.

As they neared the entrance to the naval depot, Andreas rolled down the window and slowed the Charger to a stop at the gate. A young guard in crisp uniform approached, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition. The guard straightened as he came closer, offering a sharp salute. “Corporal de la Vega?” he asked, a mix of surprise and respect in his voice. “Didn’t you retire?”

Andreas returned the salute with a casual nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I did,” he replied, his tone calm but with a hint of familiarity. “Just passing through, showing a friend around.”

The guard lowered his hand, still looking a bit puzzled, but he stepped back and gestured toward the gate. “Of course, sir. Welcome back,” he said, before pressing a button to open the gate. The heavy iron fence slid to the side with a low hum, revealing the vast expanse of the naval yard beyond, the massive ships docked quietly, waiting like sleeping giants.

As Andreas drove through, Izumi glanced over at him, clearly impressed. “Didn’t expect a salute,” she teased, smirking. Andreas shrugged, his eyes scanning the ships. “Old habits die hard.”

As they drove deeper into the naval yard, Andreas’ eyes flicked toward the familiar silhouette of the USS Wasp, currently docked after what he knew had been a long tour abroad. The massive amphibious assault ship loomed over the dock, its sheer size always a bit striking, even to someone like him who’d spent years around it. He slowed the car as they approached, the towering vessel casting a long shadow across the pavement.

“That’s her,” Andreas said, nodding toward the Wasp. “My office used to be on that ship.”

Izumi turned, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the immense vessel. “Seriously?” she asked, leaning forward a little, as if getting closer would help her take in the scale of it.

“Yeah,” Andreas replied, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice. “Spent a good amount of time on that ship. It’s an old friend.” He pulled the car into a spot near the dock and cut the engine, glancing over at Izumi, who was still staring at the ship. “Want to take a closer look?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.

Izumi nodded, eyes still locked on the Wasp. “Absolutely,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Andreas stepped out of the car, the harbor breeze hitting him, cool and briny, as the massive USS Wasp loomed before them. The ship’s steel hull stretched endlessly, worn from years at sea, its towering structure a reminder of the countless missions it had seen. Andreas led Izumi toward the dock, his eyes settling on the ship’s bridge and, farther below, a section of the ship that housed his old office.

“This was my main office back when I was a JAG officer,” Andreas said, nodding toward the midsection of the ship. “The Wasp just happened to house it. Spent more time here than on land during those years.” His tone softened, a flicker of nostalgia creeping in. “It wasn’t the most glamorous job—mostly paperwork and legal counsel—but when the time came to deploy, things got real fast.”

Izumi glanced at him, curiosity in her eyes. “JAG officer, huh?” She shifted her gaze back to the ship, taking in the scale of it. “Didn’t know you were handling military law on top of everything else.”

Andreas chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, kept me busy. A lot of cases, a lot of decisions to make. You’d be surprised how much law follows soldiers, even in the field.” He paused, letting his gaze linger on the ship. “This place saw everything—from intense deployments to quiet days of endless paperwork. Feels strange to see it again, like stepping back into another life.”

Izumi studied the ship again, her expression thoughtful. “Must’ve been something,” she said quietly, a note of understanding in her voice.

Andreas watched Izumi for a moment, letting her take in the ship before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Want to go aboard?” he asked casually, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Izumi’s eyes widened a little, clearly caught off guard by the offer.

“Wait—seriously?” she asked, her gaze bouncing from him to the ship and back. “We can just... do that?”

Andreas smirked as he scrolled through his contacts, finding the number he was looking for. “Yeah, we can do that,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “You know, I still have a few strings I can pull around here.”

He brought the phone to his ear, listening as it rang, his eyes drifting back toward the ship. “It’s been a while since I’ve stepped foot on the Wasp,” he mused, more to himself than to Izumi. “Figured I might as well give you the full tour.”

Izumi crossed her arms, leaning against the car with a small smirk of her own. “Alright,” she said, sounding both intrigued and a little skeptical. “Let’s see if you’ve still got those strings to pull.”

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice picked up on the other end. Andreas’ smile widened as he leaned casually against the car, the hum of the naval yard around him. “Hola, el capitán,” Andreas greeted, his tone warm and relaxed, slipping easily into Spanish. There was a brief chuckle from the other side of the line, followed by a response laced with familiarity and amusement.

“Andreas,” the voice replied. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? What brings you back to my ship?”

Andreas glanced toward the Wasp, the corners of his mouth still curved in a smile. “Just passing through,” he said, his voice casual. “Figured I’d show a friend around if you’ve got a minute. Think you can let us aboard?”

There was a pause on the other end, then another chuckle. “For you? Of course. Come on up. I’ll make sure you’re cleared.”

“Gracias, Capitán,” Andreas replied, a touch of gratitude in his voice. He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket, his eyes drifting toward Izumi, who was watching him with raised eyebrows.

“Well?” she asked, clearly curious.

As they boarded the USS Wasp, the size of the ship became even more impressive. The clang of their footsteps echoed off the steel floors as they were led through the narrow corridors by a young sailor who had been sent to greet them. Andreas navigated the ship’s maze-like interior with ease, muscle memory guiding him as they made their way to the bridge.

When they reached the bridge, the familiar sight of the control panels, the towering windows overlooking the deck, and the organized hum of activity hit Andreas like a wave of nostalgia. The captain, a tall, weathered man with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor, greeted them with a smile as they entered. “Andreas,” he said, extending a hand, which Andreas shook firmly. “Good to see you back on board.”

“Good to be back,” Andreas replied, his gaze sweeping over the bridge before turning back to the captain. “This is Izumi,” he added, nodding toward her. “She’s my legal ward. And no, I didn’t have a kid nobody knew about,” he said with a smirk, cutting off the inevitable question.

The captain chuckled, glancing between Andreas and Izumi. “I was just about to ask,” he said, clearly amused. “Well, any friend of yours is welcome aboard.” He turned to Izumi, extending a hand. “Welcome to the Wasp, Izumi.”

She shook his hand, trying to suppress the awe in her expression as she took in the massive room. “Thanks,” she said, glancing up at Andreas with a hint of a smile. “This place is... a lot bigger than I imagined.”

Andreas grinned. “Told you it’s something to see. I figured we’d start with the bridge—this is where most of the action happens.”

As they stood on the bridge, Izumi’s eyes roamed over the vast array of controls and the sweeping view of the deck below. She glanced at Andreas, then at the captain, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “So... what exactly does this ship do?” she asked, a little sheepish. “I mean, I know it’s big, but I don’t really know what a ‘Marine assault ship’ is supposed to do.”

The captain chuckled, crossing his arms as he turned to face her, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “You know the expression, ‘open a can of whoop-ass’?” he asked, his voice carrying a playful edge.

Izumi blinked, then nodded slowly, clearly intrigued.

“Well,” the captain continued with a grin, “the Wasp is that can.”

Izumi’s eyes widened slightly, and a small laugh escaped her. “Okay, I didn’t expect that,” she said, glancing over at Andreas with a smirk. “So, what—this thing just rolls up and drops a bunch of Marines wherever they’re needed?”

The captain nodded, clearly enjoying himself. “Pretty much. We transport Marines, helicopters, landing craft, and all the gear they need to hit a beach hard and fast. This ship is designed to get our guys in quickly, with everything they need to take control of the situation.” He paused, looking over at Andreas with a knowing smile. “And I bet Corporal de la Vega here has had a hand in a few of those operations.”

Andreas smiled but didn’t elaborate, just gave Izumi a knowing look. “Let’s just say it’s a busy ship,” he said, the weight of experience behind his words.

As they continued the tour of the bridge, Andreas felt a familiar vibration in his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the screen. It was almost 11 a.m., and a text from Professor Hugh had just come through.

“I’m up. Whenever you’re ready.”

Andreas smirked slightly, the timing perfect. He looked up from his phone and turned to Izumi. “Looks like our time here’s about up,” he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “The professor’s awake. He’s ready to meet.”

Izumi, who had been listening intently to the captain explain more about the ship’s capabilities, glanced over. “Already? Guess that means the real part of this trip’s about to start,” she said with a small smile, though there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

Andreas nodded, then turned to the captain, giving him a respectful nod. “Thanks for letting us come aboard, Captain. It’s been good to see her again.”

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The captain returned the nod with a grin. “Anytime, Andreas. You’re always welcome on the Wasp.” He glanced at Izumi. “Hope you enjoyed the tour.”

“Definitely did,” Izumi replied, her tone sincere as she took one last look around the bridge.

After thanking the captain and saying their goodbyes, Andreas and Izumi made their way back down the steel steps of the Wasp and across the dock. The ship loomed behind them, a quiet giant, as they headed back toward the Charger. Izumi threw one last glance over her shoulder at the massive vessel. “That was pretty awesome,” she said, her tone a mix of awe and appreciation.

Andreas chuckled as he unlocked the car. “Told you it was worth seeing.”

They climbed back into the Charger, the familiar hum of the engine filling the air as Andreas started it up. The naval yard began to fade in the rearview mirror as they pulled away, merging onto the main road. The sun was higher in the sky now, casting bright light across the city as they drove back through San Diego.

“Now it’s time to see what the professor has to say,” Andreas said, glancing over at Izumi, who was scrolling through her phone.

Izumi nodded, still absorbing the experience of the ship but clearly shifting her focus to what was coming next. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m curious what he’ll make of all this.”

The Charger rumbled smoothly down the road as they headed toward their next destination. The tour of the Wasp had been an unexpected stop, but now, the real reason for their trip lay ahead of them.

As they wound their way through San Diego, the city slowly began to thin out, giving way to quieter roads and more open spaces. The dense clusters of buildings and palm trees receded, replaced by stretches of suburban houses and patches of green. Andreas kept the Charger steady, the hum of the engine constant as they moved farther from the city center. The occasional turnoff led to tucked-away neighborhoods, the kind of places where time seemed to move a little slower.

Soon, the landscape shifted again, and the road became narrower, flanked by thick trees that cast long, cool shadows across the pavement. Andreas glanced ahead, knowing they were getting close. Professor Hugh’s house, a hidden gem tucked away from the city, had always reminded him of something out of a fantasy novel. A little hobbit hole of a home, nestled beneath the canopy of towering trees, it was the kind of place where the light barely broke through, leaving the house itself almost perpetually shaded.

As they turned down the final stretch of road, the air grew cooler, the trees closing in overhead. Izumi looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning the woods around them. “This is... pretty remote,” she said, a touch of surprise in her voice.

“Yeah,” Andreas replied, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “Hugh likes his privacy.”

The house finally came into view, half-buried in the earth, its rounded door and low windows giving it the feel of a place from another time. The trees around it stood tall and close, their branches intertwining to create a natural canopy that kept the house in almost constant shade.

The Charger rolled to a stop in the narrow driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The house, half-hidden under the shade of the towering trees, felt quiet and still, as if it had been waiting for their arrival. Andreas killed the engine, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Just as they stepped out of the car, two sleek forms appeared from the side of the house. Romulus and Remus, Hugh’s Dobermans, trotted up to greet them. Their dark coats shimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, and they moved with a grace that belied their size. Both dogs sniffed the air curiously before nudging up to Andreas, tails wagging in recognition.

“Hey, boys,” Andreas said, crouching down briefly to scratch behind their ears. The dogs leaned into the touch, their eyes sharp and intelligent as they shifted their gaze toward Izumi

Izumi stood back for a moment, watching the dogs approach. “They’re bigger than I expected,” she said with a small laugh, holding out her hand tentatively. Romulus, the slightly larger of the two, padded over to her and sniffed her hand before nudging it, his tail wagging in approval.

“Yeah, but they’re friendly,” Andreas said with a grin, standing up and dusting off his hands. “Hugh always said they’re smarter than most people.”

With Romulus and Remus satisfied with their greetings, the two dogs trotted back toward the house, leading the way as if they knew Andreas and Izumi were expected.

As Romulus and Remus led them toward the house, the rounded front door creaked open. Hugh stood in the doorway, his figure framed by the soft light spilling out from the house, though he curiously stayed within the shadowed entryway, avoiding the sunlight. His sharp black hair, peppered with streaks of gray, stuck out in wild, unkempt tufts, adding to his usual disheveled appearance. His clothes were no better—an old, wrinkled vest layered haphazardly over a faded button-down shirt, making him look as though he’d just tumbled out of a long night of pouring over ancient texts.

“Andreas,” Hugh greeted with a sly smile, his eyes glinting with the same energy they always had, despite his chaotic appearance.

“Professor,” Andreas responded, nodding in return, the casual ease of their familiarity evident in his tone.

Izumi, standing just behind Andreas, couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. She had heard plenty about Hugh’s odd habits, but seeing him in person was another thing entirely. “Wow,” she chuckled, her eyes sweeping over his appearance. “You really don’t do mornings, do you?”

Hugh raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Mornings are overrated, my dear,” he replied, voice rich with humor. “The night, however, is far more... accommodating.” He stayed rooted in the shade of the doorway, his eyes twinkling as if sharing an inside joke with himself.

Hugh stepped aside, finally allowing them to enter, but still carefully remaining in the shadows as he led them deeper into the house. “Come in, come in,” he urged, his voice light and welcoming. As they followed him through the narrow hallway, Izumi’s eyes widened slightly at the sheer amount of clutter—books piled in teetering stacks, ancient relics and artifacts scattered on every available surface, all of it seemingly organized in a way only Hugh could understand.

They entered the sitting room, a small, cozy space that felt like stepping back in time. The walls were lined with shelves, packed floor to ceiling with dusty old tomes, their spines worn and faded with age. Between the books sat relics from bygone eras—bronze statuettes, rusted swords, and strange, intricately carved masks from cultures long forgotten. The room smelled faintly of old paper, leather, and incense, a combination that gave the place an air of mystery and history.

Hugh gestured for them to sit, waving one hand toward the mismatched chairs gathered around a low, wooden table. “Please, make yourselves comfortable,” he said, settling into his own chair, which creaked slightly under his weight. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

Izumi took a seat, her eyes wandering around the room, trying to take it all in. “You’ve got... a lot of stuff,” she remarked, her tone one of awe mixed with amusement. “It’s like a museum in here.”

Hugh chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, well, I suppose I’ve had a habit of collecting over the years. Most of these relics have stories worth hearing—if you have the time.”

As they settled into their chairs, Hugh’s eyes gleamed with a familiar spark of excitement. He followed Izumi’s gaze to the wall, where a set of Kabuki-style masks hung in a neat row. Each one was intricately painted, their expressions ranging from serene to fierce, the colors vibrant despite their age. Hugh leaned forward, his fingers brushing the edge of his chair as he spoke.

“Ah, the masks,” he said, his voice taking on a storyteller’s cadence. “Those are from the Edo period in Japan, used in Kabuki theater. But they’re not just for show.” He stood up with surprising energy, walking over to the wall and carefully lifting one of the masks—a fierce, snarling face painted in deep reds and blacks. “This one in particular is said to be cursed,” he added with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Izumi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Cursed?”

Hugh nodded, holding the mask out for her to see. “According to legend, it belonged to an actor who was known for playing demons and spirits on stage. One night, during a particularly intense performance, he collapsed mid-scene, dead before he hit the floor. Ever since then, the mask was said to be imbued with his spirit, bringing misfortune to anyone who dared to wear it.”

Izumi’s eyes widened slightly, leaning forward in her chair. “Did you ever wear it?” she asked, a playful smirk on her lips.

Hugh chuckled, carefully placing the mask back on the wall. “Oh, no. I may be curious, but I’m not that foolish,” he said, returning to his seat. “Besides, I like to keep my guests alive.”

Before Izumi could respond, Hugh pointed to another item on a nearby shelf—a small, worn statue of a dragon with jade eyes. “That one’s from the Ming dynasty,” he continued, completely absorbed in his stories now. “Found it during an excavation in southern China, buried in a tomb thought to belong to an emperor’s advisor. You wouldn’t believe the stories that statue has seen.”

Andreas watched the exchange with a slight smile, knowing full well that once Hugh got going, it was hard to stop him.

As Hugh continued to weave through the histories of various artifacts, his voice a steady drone in the background, Andreas couldn’t help but let his mind drift back to the years he’d spent as Hugh’s student. Two years in the professor’s night classes, and every session had been an adventure in itself. Hugh had never been content with just lecturing from a textbook—he brought the past to life in ways that made it impossible to forget.

Andreas smiled to himself, remembering the time Hugh had shown up to class dressed as Fred Flintstone, his hair wild and sticking out like it was today, wearing a crude animal-print tunic that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a costume party. He’d spent the entire lecture discussing early human civilization as if he were their spokesperson, completely in character. And then, the following year, Hugh had entered the classroom dressed as Bilbo Baggins, a simple walking stick in hand, making it clear he was about to take them all on an “unexpected journey” through ancient mythologies.

No one ever quite knew what to expect when Hugh stepped through the door, but that unpredictability had kept Andreas engaged, even when the material was dense. Hugh had a way of making history feel alive, as if he’d been there personally for every moment he talked about.

Back in the present, Hugh’s voice floated through the room, now recounting the history of a set of ancient Roman coins scattered on the shelf next to the Kabuki masks. He was lost in his world of relics and stories, moving from one artifact to the next, barely taking a breath. Izumi listened with polite interest, occasionally shooting Andreas an amused glance, clearly impressed by the sheer depth of Hugh’s knowledge and eccentricity.

For Andreas, the room felt almost like one of Hugh’s old classrooms—a place where time seemed to stretch and compress, where history wasn’t just something you learned, but something you felt.

After nearly an hour of Hugh’s uninterrupted storytelling, Izumi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her throat dry from the stale air in the room. She cleared her throat softly, then, unable to hold back any longer, she spoke up. “Hugh, do you happen to have anything to drink? The air in here’s... pretty dry.”

Hugh paused, blinking as though the thought of drinks had never occurred to him. “Oh! Of course!” he said, a look of realization crossing his face. “I keep various sodas in the fridge. You’re welcome to help yourself.”

Before Izumi could ask where the fridge was, Hugh gestured toward Romulus and Remus, who had been lounging quietly nearby. “The boys will show you where to go,” he added with a grin, as if the dogs understood the task at hand.

Right on cue, both Dobermans perked up, ears twitching as they stood and padded toward the door, their tails wagging as if they’d been waiting for this exact moment. Izumi raised an eyebrow, glancing at Andreas with a smirk. “Alright,” she said, standing and stretching her arms. “Let’s see if they can really lead the way.”

Andreas chuckled, watching as Izumi followed the dogs out of the room. Romulus and Remus trotted ahead confidently, as if showing guests to the fridge was a daily part of their duties.

As soon as Izumi was out of sight, Hugh's demeanor changed. He stepped closer to Andreas, his sharp eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on his right hand. Without asking for permission, he gently grasped Andreas’ hand and turned it over, his fingers tracing the silver scar with an almost clinical curiosity. Hugh’s brow furrowed as he examined the scar more closely, his touch light but deliberate, following the cool, metallic lines embedded in Andreas’ skin. The usual whimsical air that surrounded Hugh evaporated, replaced by a sharp, focused intensity as he studied the mark in complete silence.

Hugh’s fingers lingered on the scar for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice low, almost a murmur. “Is this the only one?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the strange silver mark. There was no trace of his usual eccentricity now—just the measured, serious tone of a man trying to understand something beyond his knowledge. “Or are there more like this?”

Andreas shook his head slowly. “No, it’s not the only one.” He reached for the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal the scar directly over his heart. The silver lines were much more prominent here, glinting faintly in the low light of the room, almost unnatural in their appearance. The mark was more intricate, more defined than the one on his hand, the metallic sheen standing out starkly against his skin. Andreas watched as Hugh’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers hovering just above the scar as if he were afraid to touch it.

Hugh’s gaze flicked up from the scar, and without a word, he stepped toward the door, glancing quickly down the hallway. He seemed momentarily on edge, as if expecting to be interrupted. But then, the sound of Izumi’s laughter drifted in from outside. She was out in the yard, her voice light and carefree as she played with Romulus and Remus, tossing a stick for them to chase. The dogs barked happily, their paws thudding against the ground as they raced after the stick. Hugh hesitated for a moment longer, then turned back to Andreas, a hint of relief in his eyes. They still had time.

Hugh’s expression shifted again, his mind clearly turning over something important. Without a word, he walked over to the bookshelf next to the fireplace, his fingers moving with purpose as he scanned the spines. After a moment, he settled on a single, old, dusty tome—its leather cover cracked and worn, with faded gold lettering barely visible along the spine. The book looked ancient, as though it had survived countless hands and even more stories. It seemed to belong to another era, perhaps the 1800s, with the weight of forgotten knowledge pressed into its brittle pages.

Hugh carefully pulled the tome from the shelf, brushing off the thin layer of dust before carrying it over to the small table between them.

Hugh settled the dusty tome onto the small table between them, the leather cover creaking as he opened it with careful hands. The pages were yellowed with age, fragile and worn from countless readings. He flipped through them with practiced ease until he landed on a page marked by a faded ribbon. The text was dense, handwritten in an old, flowing script, with illustrations of strange figures in the margins. Hugh’s finger tapped on the heading at the top of the page: “Duskwraiths: Haunting Phantoms of Death.”

Andreas leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the passage. The description spoke of beings caught between life and death, their bodies marked by silver scars that mirrored the wounds of their death—just like his own. As Hugh read silently to himself for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, Andreas’ gaze drifted to the illustration on the page: a lean, shadowy figure with glowing scars across its chest, eerily similar to his.

Hugh slid the book across the table toward Andreas, his eyes sharp with meaning. “Think you remember how to read, Corporal?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of teasing, but the gravity of the moment was unmistakable.

Andreas picked up the tome, the weight of it heavy in his hands, the old parchment brittle under his fingers. He scanned the page again, more carefully this time. The words seemed almost to leap out at him—descriptions of Duskwraiths, their haunting powers, their ability to manipulate shadows, and the silver scars marking their transformation.

“All signs point to this,” Hugh said, his voice quiet but firm, as if stating an uncomfortable truth. “A Duskwraith. It’s what you’re becoming, Andreas. The silver scars, the fact you returned from death—it all aligns.”

Andreas didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still on the page, the words slowly sinking in. Duskwraith. The name alone sent a chill through him, but deep down, part of him had already known something was terribly different.

Andreas stared down at the page, his jaw tightening as the words sank in. He had come here hoping, deep down, that Hugh would tell him he was crazy—that all of this, the silver scars, the strange changes, was just some bizarre, explainable phenomenon. That the supernatural wasn’t real. But instead, it was this. He was becoming something out of legend, something beyond the natural world, and the weight of that reality hit him hard.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the hope he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding onto slipping away. Andreas let out a slow breath, his eyes drifting from the book to his own hands, the faint silver scar on his palm catching the dim light. He felt disheartened, more than he wanted to admit. “I was hoping,” he muttered, his voice quiet and strained, “you’d tell me I’m losing it. That this isn’t real.”

Hugh watched him carefully, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare moment of quiet understanding. “I wish I could, Andreas,” he said softly, folding his hands in his lap. “But the signs are all here. This... it’s as real as it gets.”

Andreas’s eyes remained on the book, scanning the ancient text with a heaviness that settled in his chest. As he turned the page, he frowned, the explanations in the tome frustratingly vague. “This doesn’t say where Duskwraiths come from,” he muttered, looking up at Hugh. “Do you know? If this is real, where do they come from? And if they’re real... what else is out there?”

Hugh leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as if weighing the gravity of Andreas’ question. He bridged his fingers together, a slow breath escaping his lips as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “All of it,” Hugh said, his gaze locked on Andreas’. “Every legend, every myth—humanity’s best kept secret. The things whispered about in the dark, dismissed as folklore... they’re real. Vampires, fae, ancient beings that have lived through centuries. They’ve always been here, hidden, just beneath the surface.”

Andreas felt a chill crawl down his spine as Hugh continued. “The world is a lot bigger and stranger than most people realize. Most will never see it, never know it exists. But you...” Hugh tapped the edge of the book lightly. “You’re caught in it now. There’s no going back.”

Andreas frowned, leaning back slightly, still processing the weight of Hugh’s words. He studied the professor for a moment, the eccentric man who had always seemed so grounded in ancient history and myth, but never in anything like this. “How do you know all of this for certain?” Andreas asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “You can’t be a day over fifty.”

At that, Hugh burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room, sharp and almost manic. His laughter carried on for a few moments, until it finally tapered off into a low chuckle. He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. “Fifty, you say?” Hugh said, shaking his head with amusement. “Oh, Andreas, if only you knew.”

Andreas raised an eyebrow, not sure what to make of Hugh’s reaction. “So, how do you know all this? What aren’t you telling me?”

Hugh leaned in, his smile fading slightly, though his eyes still glinted with mischief. “Trust me, you don’t want to know how I know,” he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “Let’s just say... I’ve been around longer than you’d think. And that’s all you need to know.”

Just as the room fell into a tense silence, there was a soft knock on the wooden frame of the study’s doorway. Both men turned to see Izumi standing there, her head tilted slightly as she peeked in, holding a cold soda can in one hand. “Hey,” she said, her voice casual but curious. “Mind if I come in?”

She flashed a small smile, clearly sensing the heavy atmosphere but doing her best to keep things light. Andreas straightened a little, glancing at Hugh before giving her a nod. “Yeah, come on in,” he said, his voice steady but the weight of the conversation still lingering.

Izumi stepped into the room, her gaze briefly flicking to the ancient tome on the table before settling on Andreas and Hugh, her expression questioning but patient. “Did I miss something?” she asked, her tone light, but with an edge of curiosity.

Andreas glanced at Izumi, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask?” he said, leaning back slightly. “Or did we just come all this way to listen to Hugh drone on about old junk?”

Izumi raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smile as she took a few steps closer. “I mean, the old junk is cool,” she replied, giving a playful glance toward the relics lining the walls. “But yeah, I’ve got something.” She set her soda can down on the small table and folded her arms, her expression turning a bit more serious as she shifted her attention to Hugh. “There’s something I need your help with... something that’s been bugging me for a while.”

Hugh’s eyebrow raised, his curiosity piqued. “Oh? Now I’m intrigued,” he said, settling back into his chair, his previous humor still lingering but his attention clearly focused on her.

Before she even finished her sentence, Izumi’s eyes widened as if she’d just remembered something important. “Hold on,” she blurted, spinning around and darting out of the room. Without another word, she bolted down the hallway, her footsteps light but hurried as she rushed outside.

Andreas watched her go, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. There was something almost adorable about the way she moved with such urgency, her focus shifting so quickly. Hugh, still seated, chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s certainly enthusiasm,” he remarked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“She gets that way when she’s onto something,” Andreas replied with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as they both waited for Izumi to return. Outside, they could hear the faint sound of the car door opening and closing as she grabbed the journal.

Izumi reentered the room a moment later, clutching the old, weathered journal tightly in her hands. Her expression was different now—focused, but more than that, filled with a hope Andreas hadn’t seen in her before. She walked over to Hugh, practically bouncing on her heels as she handed him the journal, her eyes wide and earnest.

Hugh took the journal carefully, his fingers brushing over its worn cover. He glanced up at Izumi, noting the look on her face—an almost palpable sense of hope, as though this old book might hold the key to something important. Andreas watched quietly from the side, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he saw just how much this meant to her.

“Well, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Hugh said gently, settling the journal in his lap as he opened it to the first page, the air in the room suddenly thick with anticipation.

Hugh’s eyes moved over the pages, his casual demeanor fading as he read deeper into the journal. After a minute, his expression changed, his eyes widening with surprise and curiosity. He flipped through a few more pages, scanning the dense, handwritten notes. Finally, he stopped, looking up at Izumi with a mixture of disbelief and intrigue.

“Where did you say you got this?” he asked, his voice lower now, tinged with something far more serious than before.

Izumi shifted on her feet, the hopeful look on her face turning to cautious excitement. “It was my dad’s,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “He was... into some strange stuff. I didn’t understand it then, but... now, I’m starting to think he knew something. Something important.”

Hugh nodded slowly, his eyes returning to the journal, clearly realizing that this was more than just an old book.

Before she even finished her sentence, Izumi’s eyes widened as if she’d just remembered something important. “Hold on,” she blurted, spinning around and darting out of the room. Without another word, she bolted down the hallway, her footsteps light but hurried as she rushed outside.

Andreas watched her go, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. There was something almost adorable about the way she moved with such urgency, her focus shifting so quickly. Hugh, still seated, chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s certainly enthusiasm,” he remarked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“She gets that way when she’s onto something,” Andreas replied with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as they both waited for Izumi to return. Outside, they could hear the faint sound of the car door opening and closing as she grabbed the journal.

Izumi reentered the room a moment later, clutching the old, weathered journal tightly in her hands. Her expression was different now—focused, but more than that, filled with a hope Andreas hadn’t seen in her before. She walked over to Hugh, practically bouncing on her heels as she handed him the journal, her eyes wide and earnest.

Hugh took the journal carefully, his fingers brushing over its worn cover. He glanced up at Izumi, noting the look on her face—an almost palpable sense of hope, as though this old book might hold the key to something important. Andreas watched quietly from the side, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he saw just how much this meant to her.

“Well, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Hugh said gently, settling the journal in his lap as he opened it to the first page, the air in the room suddenly thick with anticipation.

Hugh’s eyes moved over the pages, his casual demeanor fading as he read deeper into the journal. After a minute, his expression changed, his eyes widening with surprise and curiosity. He flipped through a few more pages, scanning the dense, handwritten notes. Finally, he stopped, looking up at Izumi with a mixture of disbelief and intrigue.

“Where did you say you got this?” he asked, his voice lower now, tinged with something far more serious than before.

Izumi shifted on her feet, the hopeful look on her face turning to cautious excitement. “It was my dad’s,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “He was... into some strange stuff. I didn’t understand it then, but... now, I’m starting to think he knew something. Something important.”

Hugh nodded slowly, his eyes returning to the journal, clearly realizing that this was more than just an old book.

Hugh’s fingers hovered over the journal, his brow furrowed in thought as he turned another page. “This... this journal belongs to a figure known as the Kitsune,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “The Kitsune is more than just a name—it’s a title passed down through generations of shinobi, warriors connected to the spirit Inari. If my memory serves, they were part of a group known as the Inari no Kodomotachi—‘Children of Inari.’”

Izumi froze. Her hand instinctively tightened around the soda can she’d been holding, her pulse quickening. Kitsune. She had chosen that name for herself, thinking it was a mark of her own path, something to honor her family’s heritage—but now, hearing it spoken as a title, a legacy she hadn’t fully understood, left her momentarily speechless.

Hugh glanced up from the journal, studying her face carefully, but not pressing further. He didn’t assume anything beyond what was written in the journal, but something in Izumi’s reaction made him pause, as though he sensed this was more than a distant history lesson.

“And this connection to the spirit Inari,” Hugh continued, his tone quieter now, “suggests a deep, generational link. The abilities tied to this lineage... they go far beyond what most would consider possible.”

Izumi swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. She had embraced the Kitsune name as her own, but now it seemed less like a choice and more like something that had always been a part of her. The weight of that realization hit her hard, but she remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

Hugh continued flipping through the journal, his fingers brushing over the worn pages with a kind of reverence. “These aren’t just stories,” he said quietly. “These are instructions—teachings from a long-forgotten school of Japanese shinobi hand magic. Kuji-kiri, from what I can tell. The movements, the symbols... they’re meant to focus energy, harness abilities most people don’t even know exist.”

He paused, glancing up at Izumi with genuine curiosity. “Have you tried any of this? Anything you’ve gleaned from the book?”

Izumi blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. She glanced at the journal in Hugh’s hands, then back at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve tried,” she admitted slowly, her voice quiet. “But nothing really... happened. Just sparks, once.” She shrugged, frustration creeping into her tone. “It’s like I’m missing something, like there’s a key I don’t have yet.”

Hugh nodded thoughtfully, his eyes drifting back to the journal. “It’s not surprising. These teachings are ancient, and without proper guidance, they can be elusive. But the fact that you’ve seen sparks... that’s more than most could achieve without training.”

Hugh set the journal down for a moment and moved to a cluttered corner of the desk where an old-fashioned rolodex sat. He flipped through it, the cards making a faint rustling sound, until he landed on one that caught his attention. With a small nod to himself, he pulled out the card and handed it to Izumi.

The card was simple, white with bold black text: Reverend Turner Shrader. Beneath the name, a phone number and address were printed, along with the title Spiritual Advisor.

Izumi raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing the name. “Wait, Reverend Shrader? I’ve met him before... weird guy.” She shook her head, recalling the odd encounter. “He came off like a street preacher, but something about him was... different.”

Hugh laughed heartily, his voice filling the room. “Ah, yes. Bones,” he said, using Shrader’s familiar moniker. “That’s what most of us call him. He might seem eccentric, but when it comes to magic—real magic—Bones is in a league of his own. It’s an area where he far surpasses me.”

Andreas glanced at Hugh, slightly raising an eyebrow but saying nothing. The room felt quieter for a moment, the weight of what Hugh had said lingering in the air. Izumi looked from one to the other, then back at the card in her hand, clearly thinking about their next steps.

Hugh glanced over at the clock on the wall, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Nearly 5 p.m.,” he said with a chuckle. “I didn’t realize we’ve been talking for hours. I’ve got a class to teach in about an hour.”

He turned back to Andreas and Izumi, his expression softening. “If you don’t have a hotel lined up, you’re more than welcome to stay here for the night. I’ve got two spare bedrooms—they don’t see nearly enough visitors, and the dogs wouldn’t mind the company.”

Andreas exchanged a glance with Izumi, the offer hanging between them. The idea of staying in Hugh’s curious, relic-filled home was certainly tempting, especially after a long day of revelations.

Before standing up, Hugh’s gaze shifted to Izumi, his eyes thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair and gestured toward the overflowing shelves behind him. “Before I head out, there are a few books here that might help you,” he said, his voice softening, a hint of his teacher’s tone returning. He pointed out three specific volumes, scattered across different parts of the shelf. “That one there,” he said, nodding toward a thick, red leather-bound book, “is from Tibet—The Secret Teachings of the Thunder Path. It’s filled with ancient techniques for focusing inner energy, something similar to what you might find in your father’s journal.”

He then motioned to a smaller, yellowed volume wedged between two larger books. “That’s The Aetheric Key, an old treatise from Europe about unlocking dormant magical potential—mostly theories, but useful if you’re feeling stuck.”

Finally, he pointed to a slim, dark green book resting near the top of the shelf. “And that one, Songs of the Forgotten Wind, from South America. It deals with the idea of harmonizing with the natural elements—might give you a different angle on what you’re trying to achieve.”

Hugh stood, giving her a knowing look. “You’re welcome to browse through them while I’m gone. Might be something in there that helps you find that key you’ve been missing.”

Hugh gathered his things, slipping on his worn coat and grabbing his teaching materials. As he headed toward the door, Romulus and Remus perked up, watching him leave but not following. “I’ll be back later tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a note of fondness as he glanced back at Andreas and Izumi. “Feel free to make yourselves at home.”

With a final nod, he disappeared through the door, leaving the house in a quiet stillness. The dogs, Romulus and Remus, padded back into the room, circling around Izumi. Without hesitation, they curled up beside her, their large, muscular forms almost protective as they nestled close, their eyes watching her intently, as though guarding her was their natural duty.

Izumi sat cross-legged in one of the worn armchairs, flipping through The Secret Teachings of the Thunder Path, her fingers tracing the intricate, handwritten symbols. The quiet rustling of pages filled the room, broken only by the occasional soft breath from the dogs. For the first time in a while, she felt a strange sense of calm settle over her as she absorbed the ancient knowledge.