I stepped out of the car. The air smelled like pine and something else. Something that reminded me of the inside of a Gate. That strange, otherworldly scent that clung to places where reality had been torn open and stitched back together wrong.
The cabin door opened before I reached it.
A man stepped out.
He was older than the photograph. Gray threaded through his black hair and lines creased his face. But the eyes were the same. Dark and sharp and haunted by knowledge that no human being should possess.
Kenji Nakano. My father. Alive.
"You came alone," he said. His voice was rough, like he hadn't spoken to another person in years. "I wasn't sure you would."
"I brought a friend. She's watching from the car."
"The familiar." He nodded slowly. "I sensed her. Interesting choice. Platinum tier at least. Possibly higher."
"You can sense that?"
