“That’s definitely new,” Wyatt muttered, looking at the amused twinkle in Wyrin’s eyes.

  “The Lightbringer? Like, Lucifer, the fallen angel and Devil King?” Annabeth asked and looked at him warily. He nodded. “I’m starting to figure things out, Wyatt, and I’m concerned you’ve gotten yourself into something a bit unbelievable.”

  Wyatt clenched his teeth and growled, “I didn’t choose this, Annabeth. If I weren’t here, the world would be done for already, and you’d still be dead.”

  “Well,” she rested a hand on his shoulder, “I much prefer being alive than dead, even if all of this is very hard to believe.” She gripped his shoulder a little harder. “I trust you, Wyatt. If you say things aren’t safe, then I won’t push harder than necessary. I can’t imagine what you lived through or what you’ve seen.”

  He shrugged her arm off his shoulder and deadpanned, “You believe me now. How nice.”

  To calm himself, he took a few steps away and leaned his arms against the wall and stared down at the floor. Of course, things with Annabeth were going to be just as frustrating as they’d been before.

  He’s the one that changed.

  Ever since he’d been sent back in time, the subtle pressure crushed him, almost like a physical weight pressing on his shoulders and back. Rather than walk the mountain, ascend it step by step to overcome the obstacles in his way, he was underneath with no path out. There were too many unknowns with no way to find answers besides “sit and wait”.

  The best he could do would be to prepare himself for what would inevitably come. Having his two summons made things better, sure, but he had a major concern. At his current level of power, he didn’t know if he could even activate them.

  “Wyatt,” Annabeth called, “let’s go eat.”

  He lifted his two cards and reveled in their familiar, comforting presence, then nodded towards her. For a long moment, he looked at Wyrin and Illia in their portraits.

  Wyrin waved goodbye. The elf covered her mouth as she laughed, eyes full of mirth. When he glared back at her, very unamused by her amusement, she shrugged and sheathed the sword. Neither action made sound unless he channeled his Ichor through the Cards to activate them.

  Something caught his eye. The pattern of runes engraved on the sword’s sheath. When he tried to identify the sword, he could intuit the weapon’s name: Light’s End.

  “The sword is the same one Cameron used.” He saw the hint of a rectangular shield on Wyrin’s back. “Is that Aegis?”

  The Elfin Warlord nodded, tapping the shield with a smile.

  “You have Cameron’s Paired weapons?” He squinted and looked closer at both cards and noticed even more oddities. “There’s a translucent box around you. Is that Challenging Arena?”

  Again, Wyrin nodded.

  More and more, he identified the different aspects of Cameron’s Paladin Class. When he turned back to look at Illia, now that he knew what to look for, his eyes didn’t gloss over the changes to his summons.

  “I really wish I had access to the Card Registry right about now,” he muttered. As gentle as he could, he rubbed his finger over both cards as he always did to show his affection. Then he dropped both cards in his right pocket. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

  “Agreed,” Annabeth chimed in, then started walking back the way they came. She shot him a concerned look. “Seriously, let’s go get some food before someone does catch us here. No need to draw more attention to yourself, all things considered.”

  He nodded and followed, but his mind was elsewhere. The implications of Gabriel’s deck-merger made his mind race.

  After starting his second life, he wouldn’t be so careless and send up a beacon to all those Devils wanting him dead. Already, his eyes would give him away if he couldn’t keep them hidden. The glasses Instructor Plight gave him went a long way to keeping his identity and situation contained, but they wouldn’t be a long-term solution.

  He needed a way to permanently control their golden color. Getting his hands on a private Registry was priority number one, right after his ultimate priority of not dying. After eating, they’d have Application of Fundamentals.

  Instructor Monaya led that class. Already, he discounted her as a potential supporter within the ranks of the staff. She was a no-nonsense type of woman. By the book, or else.

  None of that helped him solve his increasing list of dilemmas.

  Despite the future memories warring in his head, he knew how to go about day-to-day life. The paths to class felt habitual and known. Weird, considering he hadn’t stepped foot inside the probationary academy in more than fifteen years.

  Walking away from the Basic Application of Fundamentals building and back into the brisk cold, he looked around. The Fundamentals building he’d come from took up the northeast corner of Demer’s grounds.

  Again, Wyatt and Annabeth walked in silence, lost to their individual thoughts. He considered what she might be thinking, then put it out of mind. She could grasp the unbelievable situation he’d dragged her into or decide not to ally with him.

  Either way, food awaited.

  At this time of day, the cafeteria was the most packed. Everyone ate at midday, students and staff alike. The two-story building had a second floor that segregated the staff from the student body and kept the two groups from fraternizing.

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  As the duo approached, Wyatt hissed in displeasure. Instructor Plight held the door open for everyone while smiling—something Wyatt never saw the man do before today.

  So Wyatt tried passing without interacting, but he knew better than to expect that to work. The instructor reached out a hand and latched onto Wyatt’s wrist, then passed off the door duties to the next person. “Wait a second, Mr. Calloway.”

  Annabeth pushed herself between them, breaking the instructor’s contact, and dragged Wyatt past the door and to the other side of the cafeteria before anybody else noticed the small scuffle. They both stared back at the instructor, and he stared back at them.

  Motherfu—

  Annabeth cleared her throat to draw his attention away from the instructor at the door. They both avoided talking about the whole interaction, even as they reached the bar and retrieved two bowls. His hunger had dissipated as frustration became aggression and impatience. The slow line moved far too slow for Wyatt, and he struggled with keeping himself in check.

  The people in the line couldn’t help the slow dispensers, though knowing that didn’t make him feel any better about the turbulence of the situation and his continuous feelings of being out of control of everything.

  “If you keep looking at people like that, they’ll think you want to kill them,” Annabeth muttered, elbowing his arm. “You’re not alone, Wyatt.”

  She brushed her fingers against his hand and smiled, helping him calm down. Only the future would reveal the answers to the questions he had, so he cleared his mind and returned to baseline.

  Existential B.S. later. For now, NutriGrub.

  The scanner read his vitals when he placed his palm on the magical device, and a warning appeared on the screen. “Stress levels are high. Try meditating. For now, here’s some chocolate,” Wyatt read aloud, shaking his head. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

  He took the bowl and packaged candy that popped out of the dispenser and followed Annabeth to the same table they’d sat at for breakfast.

  She sat on the far side of the bench and smiled. “I was annoyed earlier, but now that I know a little bit more about what’s going on, I’m surprised you’re keeping me around. I’d have left someone like me behind if I were dealing with the same stuff. Kind of incredible, really.”

  After he set the bowl down, sat opposite her, and smacked his palm on the table to activate the privacy dome. People looked their way, but at least they couldn’t hear anymore. He started eating his food, shoveling the grainy, foul-tasting mush into his mouth in an attempt to speedrun his nutrients intake.

  Annabeth snagged the chocolate and unwrapped the candy, popping it in her mouth with one fluid motion.

  He leveled a blank stare at Annabeth. “I know you’d have given up already, having experienced it myself more than a few times.”

  “Hmm, about that,” she started, nearly gagging as she shoved a spoonful of NutriGrub into her mouth, “you may know a lot about me, but I’m not the same girl you ran around with—the one who got herself killed.”

  “You’re exactly the same,” he grumbled, shoving the mush in his mouth and grimacing. He eyed the sick excuse for food with a sad sigh. “The nutrients you need, and the flavor you dread. That should be the new motto for whoever packages this stuff.”

  “I resent your first statement, just so you know. And yes, they do have the ability to make the food taste better. I’m willing to bet that the staff doesn’t have to eat stuff this disturbing,” she said, forcing another spoonful into her mouth and then shooting a look up towards the second floor where the staff ate. “What do you think theirs tastes like?”

  “The tears of students.” Wyatt scraped his spoon against the bottom of the bowl to get the last bit inside, then set it aside and tapped the table for a glass of water. Once he washed away the gritty texture and dreadful aftertaste, he looked up at Annabeth. “I think you have the potential to become different from who you were when I knew you, but you act just the same now. I never said who you are is a bad thing, Annabeth. I’ve only said to be careful.”

  She pursed her lips. “That’s not really my thing, though. The nature of my interest is intrinsically tied to the fact that these things are something people don’t want discovered. Like the linked crime syndicate I mentioned before, they don’t want me to discover their secrets.”

  “Right,” he said, draining a conveniently summoned cup of water in three gulps, “I think you might be onto something with that, by the way. I can’t say what exactly makes me feel that way, but my gut says something about what you’ve found is right.” He looked at the empty wrapper and raised his brows.

  “For the stress you caused me earlier,” she explained after seeing his inquisitive look. On either side of her bowl, three empty wrappers lay. “Seriously, you did a number on me. This whole situation has my brain on fire. Everything is very chaotic, and it makes me feel twitchy, restless. Once I finished the test in class, I could see the wisdom behind your words—kind of.”

  “Kind of?” he muttered.

  “I’m operating on the assumption that what you’ve said is all truth. If that’s so, you have quite an extensive knowledge of Riacore, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. I also think you’re right. I’ve wasted a lot of time chasing loose ends that led nowhere but disappointment. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  He shrugged. “I know.”

  “Of course you do,” she scoffed, spooning her own barely touched NutriGrub in her mouth. She winced, gagging a little. “Dreadful stuff.”

  “Don’t you get better tasting stuff?”

  “Sure.” Her cheeks reddened as she looked away. “I… saw how you ate yours earlier. You didn’t blink or flinch at how awful the taste is, even though yours is several times worse than mine. This,” she pointed at her bowl, “isn’t even as bad as what you just finished eating. I just figured I should work down to that level and maybe stop being so—”

  “Spoiled?” he guessed, grinning.

  Her cheeks brightened. Rather than say anything, she nodded.

  “Good. This tastes great compared to what you’ll have to eat once you get licensed. If you want to chase the secrets of Riacore, bad food is the least of your concerns. You’ll thank yourself in the future,” he said, shrugging. “Or maybe you won’t.”

  “I don’t know your motives, and that was my only hesitation,” she stated, looking like she wanted to say more but choosing not to.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “I want to know.”

  He thought things over for a brief second, holding up a finger when she opened her mouth. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I need to,” she said, leaning forward across the table. “I… don’t know how to trust people, to be honest. This is hard for me.”

  “But?” he prompted, gesturing for her to continue.

  “You made me… realize a thing or two,” she admitted, spitting the words out as if they pained her. “Once I stopped and thought about what you said, I realized you’re not trying to control me and what I do. Nothing you said seems out of place, which is the issue. What you’re saying makes too much sense.”

  He leaned forward and, with a devilish grin, he prompted her again, “And?”