The VTOL’s engine hummed a steady, familiar rhythm beneath Lianna’s calloused hands—a cadence etched into her muscle memory from decades of flying under relentless pressure. Outside the cockpit, the barren Arctic tundra unfurled in an endless expanse of white and slate gray, where ice and permafrost merged into a featureless horizon. The low sun, barely holding back dusk, stretched long, angular shadows over the crystalline snow—a stark reminder that even in August, this place brooked no warmth.
They called it the Arctic Collider, though that label scarcely conveyed its true nature. Tucked away on Ellesmere Island, just northwest of Greenland, the installation lay concealed beneath centuries of ice. As the VTOL descended, the facility’s floodlights slashed through the dim northern twilight, revealing a sprawling, military-grade complex designed for operations where the margin for error was razor-thin. The surface structures—a raised landing pad, strategically positioned watchtowers, and reinforced geodesic domes—masked the collider buried deep within the earth.
Engineered for year-round use, the landing pad jutted defiantly from the ice, its design a testament to human ingenuity in extreme conditions. Even in summer, ambient temperatures hovered just above freezing; by winter, they could plunge to -50°C without mercy. Along the perimeter, an imposing eight-foot wall stood as a silent sentinel against the relentless elements, while the compound’s other outcroppings broke through the thinning ice like determined outposts.
To the east, a six-reactor nuclear plant provided the facility’s lifeblood, its cooling towers exhaling calculated plumes of steam into the frosty air. Lianna’s eyes, sharp and unyielding from years of field duty, fixed on the glowing stacks—every indicator on her HUD confirmed that the site was at full operational capacity. Bright perimeter lights blazed like tactical beacons against the encroaching dusk, vital in a region that saw only five hours of daylight at best.
Her heads-up display refreshed with precision:
- Wind Speed: 23 knots
- Ground Temperature: 2°C
- Electromagnetic Interference: Minimal
A synthesized voice—smooth, almost devoid of emotion—announced, “Landing conditions stable. Adjusting approach vector for northern crosswinds.”
Lianna’s gaze narrowed as she gripped the control stick with unwavering determination. “I’ve got it,” she murmured, overriding the auto-pilot with a series of deliberate, fluid motions honed by years of hard-earned experience. A swift flick of a lever—it’s cool metal reassuring beneath her fingertips—silenced an errant alert that dared to disrupt her focus.
Beside her, Aldin Carter, the wide-eyed co-pilot still wet behind the ears and raised on AI-dependence, offered a lighthearted comment. “You know, you could let the AI handle the descent. These systems are built to auto-correct.”
Lianna’s steely eyes met his, carrying a lifetime of hard-won lessons. “In a high-stakes zone like this,” she replied evenly, “I don’t leave my fate to algorithms. What if a sensor glitches or the core overloads? Machines can’t account for every variable.” There was no malice in her tone—only the measured certainty of someone who’d seen too many close calls to trust blindly.
Aldin shrugged, his youthful confidence a stark contrast to her battle-scarred pragmatism. “The redundancies are in place, Lianna. Multiple fail-safes guarantee stability.”
A wry smile tugged at her lips. “And if the fail-safes fail?” she challenged softly. For her, reliance on human instinct was not a luxury—it was a necessity forged in the crucible of countless missions.
Her fingers danced over the console as she verified sensor readouts and dispatched an encrypted status update to the crew. “Green light for landing,” she announced crisply. “Expect touchdown in under a minute. Ambient readings are deceptive—nearly freezing outside. With nightfall imminent, every second is critical.”
Turning to Aldin, she laid down the next directive. “You stay with the ship. I’m leading the protective detail. When you receive my encrypted code for immediate takeoff, keep the VTOL hovering and ready to maneuver.” She noted his company badge—Aldin Carter—and while his potential was evident, her trust was reserved for the years she’d spent in the field.
“Understood?” she prompted.
Aldin’s eyes remained fixed on the rapidly approaching landing zone as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll have her ready at a moment’s notice.”
“Watch and learn,” Lianna replied with a half-smirk before initiating a refined descent sequence. With a series of calculated commands, she throttled the engines down gradually, then executed a sharp lateral pull. The VTOL pivoted in a controlled, almost balletic spin—thrust vectoring and momentum dancing in precise harmony—before resuming its smooth, rapid descent.
Aldin’s quiet awe was barely masked as he observed the maneuver. “I’ll never get used to that,” he admitted, his voice a mix of admiration and disbelief.
With the finesse of a seasoned pilot whose reputation had been forged in adversity, Lianna guided the VTOL onto the landing pad with surgical precision. A final cascade of button presses shut down the engines and engaged the landing protocol seamlessly. “Time to see why they needed a guardian with more than just technical know-how,” she thought, unbuckling and striding purposefully toward the rear of the cabin.
As the door slid open, the rest of the crew was already methodically gearing up—each silent, precise movement a testament to the gravity of their mission. In that charged moment, Lianna Kade—steely, battle-hardened, and unapologetically human—embodied the relentless spirit required to operate at the edge of technology and nature.
“Remember, this is just a meeting—you’re all here in case things become more,” barked Arnold Rothsman, one of the two suited men they were paid to protect.
Without missing a beat, Lianna shot back with a wry smile, “Don’t worry—if things turn bad, we’ll be out as fast as you can run.”
Arnold, a girthy man nearly triple the size of his partner, growled, “I don’t pay you for your mouth—I pay you for your skills.”
Theodore Von Ellis, the lean partner in a crisp cream suit, broke the tension. “Arnold, let her do her job. You don’t always have to berate the hired help,” he chided, straightening his suit. “They know why they’re here. Let’s get moving—I’m eager to see where the project is currently.”
Arnold Rothsman, massive and brash, snorted dismissively. “Theodore, we’re not friends—we’re business partners, and I hold 60%. Best you remember that.” He grunted, rocking back and forth to build momentum until, with an awkward burst, he leaped up; catching the VTOL’s edge just as he lost forward movement, he steadied himself. His disheveled navy blue suit did little to hide his rugged bulk.
“Now that everyone’s ready, let’s make our way,” Lianna commanded. The crew—each concealing weapons—stepped off with practiced precision. Though this was a science facility, they weren’t here to blend in; they were here to protect.
As Lianna turned to check on Theodore, Arnold shoved him aside and strode out first. Lianna noted Theodore’s agitation as he chose to brush it aside. “Let’s move—I hate the cold,” Arnold grumbled, brushing past her with dismissive haste.
Unperturbed, Lianna silently observed that Arnold’s clumsiness and lack of agility could prove problematic if a rapid response were required. Still, she was resolved to protect these men with her life if need be.
Over her comms, the tower’s voice crackled instructions: “Proceed down the stairs; the main entrance is below the landing pad. Most transit here occurs underground.” Lianna paused for Theodore, then followed behind while two armed personnel remained with Aldin at the VTOL.
Methodically, she tapped her comm, “Aldin, copy?” After a brief silence came a light pop, “Yes, ma’am. I hear you.”
“Good. Keep this line clear—I’ll reach out if anything happens,” she replied.
As they approached the edge of the landing platform, a circular staircase wrapped around the exterior, spiraling downward. Arnold descended with all the grace of a man unused to exertion, his heavy breaths punctuating each step.
“How much money… have we poured into this place… and they didn’t install a damn elevator?” he grumbled between labored inhales. Theodore offered a faint smile. “They’re scientists, Arnold. Functionality first, luxury never.” Arnold’s only response was a grunt, his breathing the loudest sound as the group unconsciously slowed to match his pace.
At last, they reached the entrance. Heavy, insulated doors slid open with a quiet mechanical buzz, releasing a brief rush of warm air—jarring after the near-freezing temperatures outside. The entryway was precise, pragmatic: polished red-tiled floors met light gray walls, while daylight-mimicking fixtures bathed the ceiling in an even, shadowless glow. After a moment to adjust, the team moved forward, passing through a narrow archway that led to a side hall and an awaiting security checkpoint.
A technician in a crisp blue-and-white uniform stepped forward. “We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Rothsman, Mr. Von Ellis.” His tone was measured, professional. “Another ship is scheduled to arrive soon—this one from the south, a science sortie.”
Lianna’s eyes flicked toward him, then over her crew, her silence speaking louder than words. Arnold barely acknowledged the statement. “Who cares? Everyone we need is already here. Take us to the meeting room.” His tone was brusque, authoritative, his impatience bleeding through. The technician hesitated—clearly unaccustomed to such blunt defiance toward the science branch—but recovered quickly. “Uh, yes, sir. This way.”
Arnold strode ahead without waiting for anyone else, his pace forcing the group to follow. The corridors widened as they moved deeper into the facility, transitioning from narrow, utilitarian spaces to larger, more cavernous halls. Some sections featured transparent ceilings, revealing the thin ice overhead—a fragile barrier between them and the brutal elements above. Faint, filtered light seeped through the ice, mingling with strategically placed artificial illumination that flickered on as they passed.
Personnel moved efficiently around them, clad in similar uniforms, each absorbed in a task too important to be interrupted.
At the end of a long, echoing hallway, the meeting room came into view. Unlike the stark corridors, this space had a distinct presence—its walls sculpted from a single piece of ice, their contours mimicking the natural lines of the glacier above. The effect was both intimate and imposing, a deliberate fusion of human ingenuity and the raw power of nature.
Arnold’s impatience shattered the quiet. “How long until the others get here? I hate waiting.” The technician raised his arm and tapped a discreet panel on his wrist—a sleek augmented reality interface. Lianna recognized the technology immediately. This wasn’t some consumer-grade system; it was high-level, designed to interact with the facility’s network of sensors and cameras.
After a moment, he responded, “They’re moving this way now.” Arnold grumbled but slid into a chair, making a show of settling in with exaggerated frustration. A low, indistinct rumble reverberated through the room. Not loud, but deep. Felt more than heard. Lianna instinctively scanned the space, watching the technician’s face as he checked his readouts. His expression remained neutral, though his fingers moved a little faster over the controls.
Breaking the tension, Theodore’s calm voice cut through. “How long until it’s at full power?”
The technician hesitated before answering. “The reactor itself is functional—that was our first milestone. But we’re still recalibrating. When the original crew tried to destroy this facility, they didn’t do a thorough job. Just enough to make restarting a nightmare. Until diagnostics are complete, we won’t know the full extent of the damage.”
Arnold cracked his neck and muttered under his breath, “We know what they did. We’ve run our own tests. What matters now is getting it operational.” Theodore turned to him, his tone measured. “Rushing this could lead to catastrophic failures. Better to do it right now than spend years fixing mistakes.” Then, shifting his focus back to the technician, he added, “Your name?”
“Owen, sir,” the man replied.
Lianna noted the exchange, her instincts kicking in. She signaled subtly to her team, prompting them to spread out, positioning themselves strategically around the room. Her gaze flicked to the long, central table—crafted for function but not devoid of comfort. The kind of place where long discussions happened, where critical decisions were made.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy. Measured. Disciplined. Four soldiers entered first, their movements crisp, scanning the space with the detached efficiency of men trained for control rather than simple protection. Another six followed, forming a tight formation. A presence of force, but not a show of security.
Lianna remained still, neutral but alert. She wasn’t here for them. Her focus was on Arnold and Theodore. But as she scanned the newcomers, something caught her attention.
A man walked between them. Not a soldier. Not a scientist. He wasn’t restrained, but he wasn’t entirely free, either. He moved differently—slightly out of sync, but not resisting. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes… his eyes were active. Scanning. Calculating. Assembling pieces of an unseen puzzle. Who was he?
She let the question settle in her mind. It didn’t take long to get her answer. Arnold barely spared a glance before scoffing. “Is that him?” Dismissive. Detached. Like he was checking an inventory list, not addressing a person. Theodore, by contrast, gave a small nod, his voice polite, devoid of hostility. “Commander Mercer. Hope they weren’t too hard on you.”
Lianna’s mind clicked into place. Reid Mercer.
She had heard the name before. Lunar operations. Fusion projects. A man who pushed boundaries. A name spoken with equal parts admiration and frustration. Some called him a genius. Others, a liability. But what the hell was he doing here?
Her eyes flicked back to him, picking up details she had overlooked. The faint scruff on his jaw, like he hadn’t bothered to shave. The subtle tension in his stance—not fear, not defiance. Just… patience. Like a man waiting for the picture to complete itself.
He still hadn’t spoken. He didn’t need to. Whatever was happening here, one thing was clear—he was just starting to figure it out himself. Arnold, however, was perfectly at ease. “Well, now that everyone’s here, we can finally talk. Glad my friends got you here in one piece,” he said, making no effort to rise from his seat.
“Theodore tells me about your work,” Arnold continued, his voice carrying the smug satisfaction of a man who already knew the answers. “Graduated with honors from one of the most prestigious universities out there. But you never joined the white-coat crowd. Never joined the military either, yet you live by a military code.”
He pushed back in his chair, attempting to get comfortable, but his girth made the effort futile. The chair creaked under the strain, barely keeping him upright.
Reid remained silent, still reading the room. Arnold smirked. “You think that little misstep got you grounded? Please. They didn’t sideline you because of that. They had you there because you push limits. But even today, money goes a long way.”
He reached into his inner pocket and retrieved a thick cigar. With practiced ease, he clipped the end, then lit it with a gleaming silver lighter. Taking a slow drag, he exhaled a ribbon of smoke before continuing.
“I paid her to bring you back,” he said, gesturing upward. “She just had to wait for the right excuse to make it look legit so people didn’t suspect bribery. Your team pulled some good data on that last run, or so I’m told.” He flicked his cigar toward the table, hesitated as if looking for an ashtray, then shrugged and tapped the ash onto the floor.
Lianna watched Reid closely, trying to gauge his reaction. From what she knew, he wasn’t the type to stay quiet for long. Finally, he spoke, his tone cool and measured. “What do you want?”
Arnold grinned. “It’s not what I want. It’s what you want. And what you want gets me what I need.” Reid leaned back slightly, unimpressed. “Well, what I want is to get out of here. And what you need is some gym time and willpower.” Lianna tensed instinctively, waiting for Arnold to react. He frowned but didn’t take the bait.
“We want the same thing,” Arnold said instead, his voice dipping into something more deliberate. “Fusion.” He took another slow drag. “You’ve hit a wall, and you don’t have the answer. I’ve found an answer. I just need a man willing to explore it.” Reid’s posture shifted slightly, interest flickering in his eyes despite himself.
Arnold saw it too and pressed forward, straining as he leaned over the table. Lianna could practically hear his heart rate increase. “You’re attacking the same problem from every angle and expecting a different outcome. What if we had something new to stabilize the fusion?”
Reid straightened, his sharp mind already processing possibilities. Lianna didn’t fully understand the jargon, but she knew enough to tell that whatever Arnold was suggesting was big. Reid’s voice remained cool. “And how exactly do you plan on stabilizing fusion?” Arnold barely opened his mouth before Reid cut in, smirking.
“The only thing you seem to fuse is whatever chair you plant your ass on. With all that pressure, maybe you are the answer to fusion stabilization.” He gestured vaguely. “I mean, you’ve got the gravitational mass for it. That’s promising.”
A beat of silence. Then Theodore exhaled sharply through his nose, amused despite himself. Arnold didn’t laugh, but he didn’t lash out either. Instead, he let the moment settle, then took another long pull from his cigar, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
Lianna wasn’t focused on the humor. She was watching the shift—the undercurrent beneath the words. Arnold wasn’t just talking; he was maneuvering. This wasn’t some vague, theoretical pitch—he had something real. And the most telling part? Reid was listening.
There was a calculated pause in the way Arnold delivered his words, a moment of deliberate restraint. He was setting the hook, waiting for the bite. And from what Lianna could see, Reid had already taken it—he just hadn’t realized it yet.
Arnold leaned back, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “You’ll be well compensated,” he said smoothly. “You’re officially grounded for six months—so I figure you don’t have much going on. And your family?” He waved the cigar in the air, embers flaking off lazily. “They weren’t expecting you back anyway. I doubt you had time to reach them yet.”
The twitch in Reid’s jaw was the only reaction he gave—but it was enough. “As a matter of fact, I have,” Reid said, voice sharp and even. “And they were expecting me until your goons kidnapped me.”
Arnold waved a dismissive hand, sending another drift of ash to the floor. “Kidnapping is a bit dramatic. I’d call it a strong job offer.” He took another pull from the cigar, speaking around the smoke. “Your family will understand once you explain. The job’s simple: you lead the research team, get what you want, and we all walk away happy.”
He pushed forward in his chair, the wood creaking in protest as he shifted to glance at Theodore. “How long until this thing is operational?” Theodore exhaled, considering. “If all goes well? A month.” Arnold laughed, the sound rich with certainty. “Oh, it’ll go well. We’ve pumped enough into this project.”
He finally turned his full attention back to Reid, struggling to pivot in the chair. His weight made the effort slow and cumbersome, but Arnold didn’t seem to care.
“After this meeting, you won’t be kept any longer,” Arnold continued, tapping excess ash onto the floor without a second thought. “I’ll have my men take you wherever you want—first-class treatment. I just felt it was important for you to see this facility yourself, rather than some half-assed video call.”
He smiled slightly. “Places like this have a way of making people think twice about leaving.” Lianna watched Reid closely. There was a shift in his posture, subtle but telling. He was still guarded, but the tension had eased. He was considering it.
Theodore took the opportunity to press the moment further. “When you complete this job,” he said, his voice measured but firm, “you’ll change the world forever. Not just for you, not just for us—for everyone. Your family will be affected by this. Everyone’s will.”
Reid’s gaze flicked between the men, assessing, calculating. Finally, he leaned back slightly. “So what’s the catch?” he asked, voice edged with skepticism. “I find this big breakthrough, make a pile of money, and just fly off into the history books?” Arnold let out a snort, shaking his head. “Hardly.”
He took another drag of his cigar, exhaling before speaking. “You’ll be rich. Your family will be set for generations. And you’ll help solve the energy problem that’s plagued us for centuries.” He tapped the cigar against the table absently. “Whoever cracks true fusion energy doesn’t just make history—they control the future.”
And there it was. The truth. Lianna’s stomach tightened. Now she understood why she was here. This wasn’t just about research, or energy, or even money. This was a power play. Arnold wasn’t some eccentric billionaire chasing a dream. This was bigger—a trillion-dollar gamble on something that, if successful, would give him absolute leverage over the world.
The secrecy suddenly made perfect sense. Lianna had seen men like him before—arrogant, crude, self-serving. But Arnold wasn’t just throwing money at an idea—he had a plan. And he was making sure the right people played their roles.
Reid’s gaze moved between the men, then scanned the room, taking in the silent figures surrounding them. Too many unknowns. Too many hands in this pot. “I don’t appreciate being played like a pawn,” he said finally, his voice even but edged with irritation. “But… you do have my curiosity.”
He exhaled, running a hand over his jaw before continuing. “If I take this on, it’s not for glory or money. I’ll take the money—for my family. But I don’t answer to you. If this project has a real shot at breaking the barrier, I bring my own people. I don’t trust you. Or anyone in this room.”
Arnold snorted, shaking his head. But the slight curl at the edge of his lips betrayed amusement rather than offense. “Of course,” Arnold said, his tone almost patronizing. “This is a simple proposal, Mercer. I pay you to get results. I don’t care how you get them. This is private sector—no government red tape, no bureaucratic meddling.”
A pause. Lianna watched Reid carefully. He was calculating, turning the information over in his head, dissecting every angle. Arnold saw it too. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Reid.” He grinned, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “We both know your answer. You were already going to say yes the minute you walked in here.”
Then, with a lazy shrug, he added, “And for the record? Those power-hungry snakes in the government already signed off on this. Took some convincing, but in the end? It’s a bargain compared to the payout.” He flicked the last of the cigar’s ash onto the floor without a second thought. Then, out of habit, he reached toward the table—hesitated—and instead tossed the spent cigar filter to the ground.
Lianna felt the shift settle into place. This mission was never just a routine security detail. They’d been told it was simple—escort Arnold and Theodore to a meeting, ensure safe passage back. Nothing more. But they were all pawns in something bigger. Reid’s distaste was obvious, but Lianna didn’t mind. So long as the pay was good, the mission stayed clear-cut, and no moral lines were crossed, she would do her job.
Arnold leaned forward slightly, his voice dipping into something smoother, more persuasive. “This is my one and only offer.” His eyes locked onto Reid’s, confident. “You run this experiment. You get the results I want.” Then he let the weight of the next words land. “Your compensation will be one hundred million. Tax-free.”
Lianna flicked a glance toward Reid. If that number meant anything to him, he didn’t show it. He remained still, unreadable. But she knew he was considering it. Finally, Reid exhaled through his nose and spoke, his voice casual, almost indifferent. “I pick my crew. They’re compensated the same. And I see my family before we start.” His eyes met Arnold’s, unwavering. “That’s my final offer.”
A long silence. Arnold’s expression didn’t change. Lianna had only been around him for a short time, but she already knew one thing—he didn’t care about the cost. Money, pride, morality—none of it mattered. Only results. Arnold finally gave a small, satisfied nod. “I wouldn’t have offered you anything less.”
Lianna shifted slightly, a quiet realization settling in. She’d signed up for a simple job. It wasn’t simple anymore. Arnold exhaled and leaned back, motioning with his hand. “Well, now that it’s settled, you’re free to go. My men will take you wherever you tell them.” He gave Reid a final glance. “Just be ready for the call.”
Then, with obvious reluctance, he made an attempt to get up. His large frame shifted in the chair as he scooted forward slightly. Then, rocking back and forth in small bursts, he gained momentum with each sway. Finally, with a grunt of effort, he launched himself upward, gripping the table to stabilize himself.
For a brief second, he stood there, catching his breath. Then he turned to Lianna. “No need to stick around any longer. I’ll be much happier once we’re out of this frozen hellhole.” Reid smirked at the sight. “And I’m sure you’ll be much happier after a couple of meals. That looked like it took a lot of energy.” He gave a mock-considering look. “Maybe we’ll discover a way to move you around a little more gracefully while we’re at it.”
Arnold scowled. “Get out of here before I change my mind.” Reid turned toward the man who had led the unit that brought him here. “How does it feel,” he asked dryly, “to be a babysitter for the world’s largest eyesore?” The man didn’t respond, his expression impassive. Instead, he glanced toward Arnold, waiting for direction.
Reid smirked. “I see you feel the same way.” He rolled his shoulders, then gestured loosely toward the exit. “Well, now you’re my taxi, so take me home.” Again, the man looked to Arnold for confirmation. Arnold exhaled heavily, waving his cigar-stained fingers dismissively. “I told you already. Take him back. We’ll call when he’s needed.” The man gave a curt nod before turning back to Reid. “Fine. This way.” He pivoted and stepped toward the door.
Reid turned slightly, catching Lianna’s gaze. His smirk widened. “You look a little small to be guarding that mass.” He gave a small nod toward Arnold. “Be careful. Big target.” Lianna didn’t respond, but her expression remained neutral, unmoved by the remark. She simply watched as the military unit moved to escort Reid out.
Arnold let out a breath, his frame still laboring slightly from the effort of standing. “If I didn’t need that bastard,” he muttered, voice tinged with irritation, “I’d leave him at the bottom of the ocean.” Theodore chuckled as he straightened his suit. “You’re not paying him for his polite demeanor, Arnold. You’re paying him for what he can do.” He tilted his head, considering. “Frankly, I found him rather charming, all things considered.” Arnold grunted. “Charming. Right.”
Theodore sighed, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. “The consortium is confident this will work.” His voice was quieter now, more introspective. “God help them if it doesn’t.” He gave Arnold a sideways glance. “You’re spending a lot on their dream.” Arnold snorted. “It’s not a dream if it works.” Then he turned to Lianna. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m not staying a night in this frozen pit.”
Lianna gave a silent nod, stepping aside as Arnold braced himself against the table for balance. Just as he was about to push forward—Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Arnold stilled, his irritation flashing across his face.
“Stop this insanity!” The voice rang down the corridor, sharp with anger. Lianna immediately moved between Arnold and Theodore, her stance shifting subtly into defensive readiness. With a slight motion, she signaled to her team. They repositioned smoothly, not reaching for their weapons, but ready to if needed. A moment later, a figure came into view.
The man was older, his full beard streaked with gray, his clothes more utilitarian than refined. His stance, his presence—he didn’t look like a scientist or military personnel. He looked like a worker. Arnold sighed loudly, rolling his eyes as if this were nothing more than an inconvenience. “Damn it. Another protester.”
Three more figures followed behind the older man. The first was tall—easily six-three—broad-shouldered and built like someone who had worked hard his entire life. He wasn’t large in the way Arnold was. This was muscle, not excess. His features suggested African or Middle Eastern descent, and his stance was measured, deliberate. Not impulsive, but ready.
Behind him, a shorter man and a heavier-set woman moved forward. The woman was speaking in urgent, hushed tones, her hands gesturing as she tried to calm the older man. But Lianna could tell she wasn’t just here to hold him back—she had something to say, too.
All three wore scientific attire, but only one of them looked like he belonged to authority. The older man was in charge. Lianna could feel it. As she observed, Theodore took a step forward, placing himself at the front of their group. Arnold crossed his arms, exhaling through his nose. But it was Theodore that spoke. “Ah,” he said with a knowing smirk. “I was wondering when you’d show up.” His gaze locked onto the older man, the familiarity evident. “It’s been a while, Rowan.”