Chapter 150. Morning

Adom was tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushing tired in the way that only came from having your entire day derailed by other people's poor life choices.

This morning he'd woken up in a decent mood. He'd been looking forward to his first lecture as a professor, had prepared some genuinely interesting material, and had been planning to spend the evening at the beach with Eren and Sam for the first time in months, and introduce them to Bennu.

Simple pleasures. Normal things.

Instead, here he was at a black market auction after midnight, chasing stolen research artifacts while babysitting a changeling spy who'd gotten himself in over his head. Never a dull moment, apparently.

"Here," Cass said as they approached the warehouse, producing three masks from somewhere in her cloak. "Put these on before we get any closer."

Adom examined the mask she handed him. It was well-made, covering the upper half of his face, but what caught his attention were the tiny runes etched into the material around the eye holes and temples.

"Identity concealment?" he asked.

"Among other things. The runes scramble facial recognition magic, alter voice patterns slightly, and generally make it much harder for anyone to figure out who you actually are." She was already putting on her own mask, which was decorated with silver thread in a pattern that somehow made her look both elegant and vaguely threatening. "Standard precaution for this sort of thing."

"Right," Adom said, securing his mask in place.

Cass handed the third mask to Jorik, who took it with the expression of someone trying to process too much information at once. "Your codenames for tonight are Sapphire, Obsidian, and Amber. Don't let your real names slip. These people have good memories and long reaches."

The warehouse entrance was more sophisticated than Adom had expected. What looked like a simple doorway from the outside turned out to be the first of several security checkpoints designed to keep unwanted visitors out and wanted visitors honest.

The first guard was a mountain of an orc who checked their invitation tokens like someone who'd seen every possible type of fake credential.

The second checkpoint involved walking through what felt like a magical scanner that probably catalogued everything from their approximate wealth level to whether they were carrying any obviously dangerous weapons.

The third was staffed by someone who looked like an accountant but moved like a knife fighter, and who asked polite questions about their bidding intentions while evaluating whether they seemed likely to cause problems.

Cass handled all of it. She had the right tokens, knew the right answers, and carried herself with confidence that suggested she belonged here. Adom and Jorik just followed her lead and tried to look like they weren't completely out of their element.

"Your bodyguard is already inside," the final checkpoint guard mentioned to Cass as he waved them through. "Reserved your usual spots."

Adom caught sight of John as soon as they entered the main auction space. The golem was sitting perfectly still in the third row, taking up what looked like four seats with his considerable bulk.

He was wearing his secret armor made by Fili and Kern—different from his usual gear, designed specifically for occasions like this. The plates gleamed with a mirror finish, and every joint moved smoothly.

Speaking of Fili, Adom made a mental note that he'd need to visit the young Stoneblood soon. The dwarf had sent word that he had something to show him, apparently. Knowing Fili, it was probably either a breakthrough in golem enhancement or a new armor maintenance technique that he was excited to demonstrate.

John had been Cass's personal bodyguard for the past three years, ever since Adom had decided that running a major merchant guild might involve more physical danger than either of them was comfortable with. The golem was silent, efficient, completely loyal, and had never once asked awkward questions about why his assignments sometimes involved unusual locations at unusual hours.

"Well," Cass said as they made their way toward their reserved seats, "this brings back memories."

The auction space itself was impressive in its own way. The warehouse had been transformed into something that resembled a legitimate auction house, complete with proper seating, adequate lighting, and a raised platform where items could be displayed for bidding. The main difference was that everyone was wearing masks.

Every single person in the room had their face covered, from simple cloth masks to elaborate decorative pieces that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary. It gave the whole scene a surreal, carnival-like atmosphere.

"Right," Adom said. "Didn't end up working very well last time we were at an auction together."

"Yes, well," Cass said quietly as they settled into their seats next to John's imposing form. "I hate to be the herald of bad news, but it seems like this time might not go smoothly either."

She pointed toward a display area near the front of the room where several items were arranged on velvet-covered tables. A small placard read "Recently Sold Items - Collection Available Tomorrow."

Among them, clearly visible even from their seats, was a crystalline artifact about the size of a dinner plate, covered in intricate magical inscriptions that seemed to shift and move in the auction house lighting.

Adom recognized it immediately. He'd described that exact piece to Cass when he'd called for her help, had explained its function and why it was absolutely critical that it not end up in the wrong hands.

"Oh, for God's sake," he muttered.

They were too late. The first batch of his stolen research had already been sold.

The auctioneer was already calling out lot numbers and descriptions for the next round of bidding. His voice carried clearly through the space, professional and engaging.

"Lot thirty-seven," he announced, "a matched set of enhancement crystals, origin unknown, estimated potency rating of seven point four. Bidding starts at fifteen hundred gold."

Adom watched hands go up around the room as bidders signaled their interest. The whole process moved with surprising efficiency, each item spending no more than a few minutes on the block before being sold to the highest bidder.

It was almost like watching a legitimate auction, except for the masks, the location, the complete lack of paperwork, and the fact that half the items being sold were probably stolen.

"Who bought my research?" Adom asked quietly, nodding toward the display area.

"We'll find out when the auction ends," Cass replied. "They don't exactly publish buyer lists in real time."

Adom settled back in his chair and watched the show continue. The auctioneer had moved on to lot thirty-eight, some kind of enchanted weaponry set. His voice carried across the room with ease, calling out bids and increments while hands rose and fell throughout the audience.

"Lot thirty-nine," the auctioneer announced. "A theoretical framework crystal, origin academic, estimated complexity rating of nine point two. Bidding starts at eight thousand gold."

Adom's jaw tightened. He recognized the description. That was his work.

Cass raised her hand smoothly. "Eight thousand."

"Nine thousand from the gentleman in the red mask."

"Ten thousand," Cass said.

The bidding continued.

Adom watched his years of research get passed back and forth between strangers like a commodity. The red mask dropped out at eleven thousand. Someone in an elaborate feathered mask took it to twelve. Cass won it at twelve thousand five hundred.

"Lot forty. A prototype enhancement matrix, origin unknown, estimated potency rating of eight point seven."

Another piece of his work. Cass bid on that one too, eventually winning it for eighteen thousand gold.

The pattern continued. Lot forty-seven was a crystalline array he'd spent two months perfecting. Fifty-one was another theoretical framework, more advanced than the first.

Each time, Cass bid with the same calm efficiency. Each time, Adom watched his own work get bought back with his own gold.

The changeling next to him sat perfectly still throughout the entire process. He didn't speak, didn't fidget, didn't do anything to draw attention. Just watched the auction proceed.

"Lot fifty-four. A matched set of enhancement crystals, theoretical grade, estimated potency rating of seven point four."

More of his research. Cass won those for twenty-two thousand gold.

By the time the auctioneer called lot sixty-one, Adom had stopped doing the math in his head. The numbers were getting too large and too depressing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes tonight's auction. Collection arrangements can be made at the front desk. Thank you for your participation."

The crowd began to move. People stood, stretched, made their way toward the exits or toward the collection area. The whole process had taken nearly three hours, and Adom felt every minute of it in his bones.

"Well," he said as the noise level in the room began to rise, "that was expensive. But probably cheaper than me having to come back here and put dirt in people's eyes to get my stuff back the hard way."

Cass almost smiled at that. "Your way would have been messier."

"How much did we spend?"

"Just under two hundred thousand gold."

Adom rubbed his temple. Two hundred thousand gold. It wasn't going to bankrupt him or anything close to it, but it still stung. Money he could have spent on actually useful things instead of buying back his own stolen research. Money that wouldn't have needed to be spent at all if some changeling hadn't decided to break into his tower and help himself to whatever looked valuable.

"Can you find out who bought the crystal? The one from the display case? Maybe see if they'd be willing to sell it back?"

"I'll be right back." Cass stood, and John immediately rose with her. They made their way toward the front of the auction space, where several well-dressed individuals were conducting quiet conversations with auction house staff.

Which left Adom alone with the changeling.

The silence stretched between them. Around the room, people continued to file out or cluster in small groups, conducting business in low voices. Someone laughed at something. Someone else was arguing about collection fees.

Adom found his foot tapping against the floor.

Just a small motion, barely noticeable, but he couldn't seem to stop it. His leg bounced with restless energy. Frustration and exhaustion and the lingering adrenaline from the day's events.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The changeling shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

More time passed. A group of people near the front of the room were examining one of the larger artifacts, pointing at various details and speaking in hushed tones. The auctioneer was speaking with someone in an expensive-looking cloak about payment arrangements.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Where is my brother?"

Adom's foot stopped moving. He turned to look at the changeling, who was staring down at his hands.

"I told you he was safe, didn't I?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then what's the problem?"

The changeling was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to apologize. For what I did. I know it doesn't make anything better, but I needed to say it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I broke into your workshop. I'm sorry I took your research. I'm sorry I got you involved in this mess. I know you didn't ask for any of this."

Adom's foot started tapping again. Faster this time.

"Save your words," he said. "Your apology won't make anything come back."

The changeling flinched as if he'd been slapped.

Adom sighed. His foot kept moving against the floor, a steady rhythm of barely contained irritation.

"Look, I understand where you're coming from. Hell, I'd have done much worse if my little sister was in the same situation. But I'm the victim here. I don't want to be an asshole by telling you to fuck off, so please. Let's just not talk right now."

The changeling's mouth closed. He stared down at his hands again, his shoulders hunched forward slightly.

Adom went back to watching the crowd. Tapping his foot. Counting the seconds. Waiting for Cass to return with hopefully good news about his stolen artifact.

The auction house was slowly emptying out. Most of the bidders had either collected their purchases or made arrangements for later pickup. The staff were beginning to clear away the display tables and pack up equipment.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The changeling didn't speak again. He sat perfectly still, hands folded in his lap, staring at nothing in particular.

Several more minutes passed before Adom heard the familiar sound of John's armored footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Cass making her way back through the dwindling crowd, the golem following close behind.

Adom looked at Cass as she approached. Even with the mask covering most of her face, fifteen years of working together had taught him to read the subtle signs. The slight tension in her shoulders. The way she held her head. The measured pace of her walk.

He sighed and stood up.

"How many of them are there?"

"I counted five mercenaries. Professional grade, not street thugs. The buyer might be highborn. Expensive taste in bodyguards."

"Where?"

"They'll probably leave through the north entrance and take Merchant's Row toward the Upper District. Standard route for anyone heading to the fancy neighborhoods."

Adom nodded. "Could you please take care of our friend here? I'll be back tomorrow, after dealing with all this."

"I'm not your butler," Cass said flatly. "Stop being moody."

Adom didn't turn around. He was already mentally cataloging what he'd need for a quick intercept mission. Nothing too flashy. Something efficient.

"I'm counting on you to take the guy to his brother. Valiant's already briefed."

"I don't understand why you trust that little mouse."

"Thanks, Cass!"

And he was gone.

*****

A few moments later...

Adom positioned himself in the middle of Merchant's Row, right where the cobblestones met the smoother paving of the Upper District approach. The street was wide enough for two carts to pass comfortably, lined with expensive storefronts and well-maintained lamp posts. At this hour, most of the shops were closed, their windows dark behind ornate security grilles.

He could really go for a frosty right now.

One of those new thick, creamy ones from the Weird stuff store with the crushed mint leaves on top. Maybe some of Eren's mom's cookies too. Those soft, buttery things she made with the candied orange peel. Actually, now that he thought about it, Old Mari's meat pie would hit the spot perfectly. The cheesy ones with the tomato sauce and baked in applewood oven.

His stomach rumbled quietly. He'd been so focused on the auction that he'd forgotten to eat dinner.

The sound of hoofbeats on cobblestones pulled him from his culinary musings. A cart approached from the north, pulled by two well-groomed horses and flanked by mounted guards. Professional mercenaries. Heavy armor, quality weapons, disciplined formation.

The cart was impressive. Dark wood reinforced with iron bands, small windows covered by thick curtains, wheels built for both speed and durability. Important cargo.

"You there!" called one of the mounted guards. "Clear the road!"

Adom didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there watching them approach.

The cart slowed, then stopped about twenty feet away. Two of the guards dismounted, their armor clanking as they hit the ground. Big men, both of them. They'd learned to fight before they'd learned to think, and had gotten very good at the former.

"Did that woman send you?" the larger of the two called out as they approached. "We told her to fuck off. You think we were joking?"

Silence. Adom watched them with the patience of a cat observing mice.

"Don't play dumb." The guard was close enough now that Adom could see the professional quality of his equipment. Enchanted mail, expensive sword, boots designed for both riding and fighting. "Whoever's paying you isn't paying you enough to die over this."

The second guard had moved to flank him. Standard intimidation tactic.

"Hey. I'm talking to you!" the first guard snapped, his voice rising. "Answer me!"

Nothing. Adom might as well have been a statue.

The guard's face flushed red beneath his helmet. "Move," he snarled, reaching out to grab Adom's shoulder. "Now."

The moment his gauntleted hand made contact, Adom struck. A simple palm strike to the center of the man's chest. The guard flew backward like he'd been hit by a battering ram, crashed into the side of a building, and slumped to the ground unconscious.

[Flow Prediction]

The second guard was already moving, drawing his sword as he lunged forward. Adom sidestepped, caught the man's wrist, and twisted. The sword clattered to the cobblestones. A quick elbow to the temple and the second guard joined his friend in unconsciousness.

Something felt off, though. The mana part of his Axis wasn't flowing as smoothly as it should. There was a dampening effect in the air, subtle but noticeable. Anti-mana artifacts. Probably hidden in the cart.

The remaining mounted guards were shouting orders, spurring their horses forward. Adom crouched, placed his hands flat against the cobblestones, and pushed Axis into the ground. The stones erupted upward in a perfect line, creating a jagged barrier between him and the charging horses. The animals reared, throwing their riders. One guard managed to stay mounted, wheeling his horse around for another approach.

Adom gestured sharply with his left hand. The air around the mounted guard suddenly became thick as honey. The man's horse slowed to a crawl, its legs moving but making no progress, like it was trying to run underwater. Adom walked over, reached up, and pulled the guard from his saddle. A gentle application of pressure to the right nerve cluster and the man went limp.

The fourth guard had recovered from his fall and was advancing on foot, a two-handed sword gleaming in the lamplight. Professional technique, excellent form. Under normal circumstances, he might have been a challenge.

These weren't normal circumstances.

Adom flicked his fingers and the cobblestones around the guard's feet turned liquid. The man sank up to his ankles, then his knees, struggling against the suddenly malleable stone. Adom solidified the ground again, trapping the guard in place, then walked over and applied the same nerve pressure technique. The sword fell from nerveless fingers.

The fifth guard was still in the cart, probably guarding the cargo. Adom could hear movement inside, urgent whispers, the sound of someone fumbling with what was probably a weapon.

First things first. He needed to deal with those dampening artifacts.

Adom circled the cart slowly, extending his senses. There. Three separate sources of interference, strategically placed to create an overlapping field. Two were mounted on the underside of the cart itself. The third was probably inside.

He crouched down and examined the first artifact. A crystal about the size of his fist, held in place by a metal housing and connected to the cart's frame by copper wires. Clever design. It would be difficult to remove without the proper tools.

Good thing he didn't need proper tools.

Adom gripped the metal housing and twisted. The copper wires snapped like thread and the entire assembly came free in his hands. He crushed the crystal between his fingers, letting the fragments fall to the cobblestones. He did the same to the second external artifact, ripping it from its mounting with brute force.

His Axis flow immediately improved. The dampening effect was still there, but much weaker now.

The horses were getting nervous, stamping and snorting as they sensed the magical disturbance. Adom approached them slowly, speaking in low, calming tones. Once they'd settled, he carefully detached them from the cart and led them to a safe distance. No point in them getting hurt if things got messy.

The cart door opened and the fifth guard emerged, sword already drawn. This one was different from the others. Smaller, faster, economy of movement and serious training. Probably the team leader.

"Professional courtesy," the guard said, settling into a fighting stance. "Walk away now and we'll call it even."

Adom said nothing. Just watched.

"Then you'll have to go through me."

Hah.

The guard attacked without further warning, his blade cutting through the air in a series of precise, efficient strikes. Fast. Very fast. Adom had to actually work to avoid the attacks, flowing around them like water around stones.

The guard was using Fluid too, channeling it through his body. Each strike left brief trails of energy in the air, and Adom could feel the displaced force as the blade passed near him.

Time to end this.

Adom caught the guard's wrist on the next strike, holding it steady while he placed his other hand against the man's forehead. A gentle application of Axis to the right pressure points and the guard's eyes rolled back. He caught the unconscious man before he could fall and laid him carefully on the ground.

Now for the cart itself.

The door was heavy wood reinforced with iron, secured by an expensive lock. Adom placed his hand against the wood and pushed Fluid into its grain. The fibers separated, creating a hole just large enough for him to step through.

The interior was luxurious. Padded seats, small reading lamps, a fold-down desk. And huddled in the far corner, a man in expensive clothes who was trying very hard to look invisible.

"Please," the man said, his voice shaking. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but I have money. Lots of money. We can work something out."

Adom spotted the third dampening crystal immediately. It was mounted on the wall near the man's seat, still glowing with stored energy. He walked over and crushed it with his bare hand.

He didn't need to, really, this was already easy enough.

But he felt extra petty today.

The man flinched at the sound of breaking crystal. "Don't hurt me. Please. I have a family. Children."

Adom extended his hand.

"What? What do you want?"

Understanding dawned in the man's eyes when Adom looked toward the chest.

"The crystal?"

Adom nodded.

"Take it! Take it! It's in the chest, right there. Just please don't kill me."

The chest was small but well-made, probably worth more than most people's houses. Adom opened it with his bare hands, the lock mechanism crumpling under the pressure of his enhanced strength.

Inside, nestled in silk padding, was his crystal.

A piece of compressed quartz about the size of a chicken egg, etched with intricate runes. The central rune was his own design. The healing matrix he'd been developing for Sam's mother, who had been in a coma for years now.

Adom pocketed the crystal and headed for the hole he'd made in the door.

"Wait!" the man called after him. "That's it? You're not going to rob me? Kill me?"

Adom paused at the threshold.

"Tell your friends not to buy stolen goods."

He stepped through the hole and back onto the street. The guards were still unconscious but breathing. They'd wake up with headaches and bruised egos, but nothing permanent.

The horses were standing patiently where he'd left them, completely calm now. He walked over and patted the nearest one on the neck.

Then he was gone, melting into the shadows between buildings.

*****

20 minutes later...

Adom slipped through the back entrance of their building, his footsteps silent on the worn wooden floors. Cass was waiting in the main room, still masked, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.

"How did it go?" she asked, straightening up when she saw him.

"It was good."

She tilted her head slightly. "That was faster than I thought it would be."

Adom nodded, already moving toward the stairs. "The changeling?"

"At Valiant's. Safe."

Cass studied him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders sagged slightly, the careful way he was moving. "You look tired. You should go to sleep."

"Yeah, I will." He paused at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the railing. "Just need to do something first."

*****

The waves rolled against the shore in steady rhythm, foam hissing as it spread across the wet sand before retreating with a soft sucking sound. The air carried salt and seaweed, crisp and clean in the pre-dawn darkness.

Adom walked barefoot along the water's edge, his boots tied together and slung over one shoulder, hands clasped behind his back.

Bennu hopped excitedly beside him, his small talons leaving delicate prints in the sand. 

"The sand feels so different than I imagined!" Bennu chirped, stopping to dig his claws into the cool grains. "And the waves! They just keep coming! How do they know to do that?"

"They don't know," Adom said. "They just do."

"But something has to tell them, right? Like how I know to breathe fire?"

"Different forces. The moon pulls them. Gravity."

Bennu tilted his head, processing this. "The moon? But it's so far away."

"Far doesn't always mean weak."

The phoenix absorbed this wisdom while pecking at a piece of driftwood. Everything fascinated him. The way the sand shifted under his feet. The sound the waves made when they hit the rocks further down the shore. The smell of kelp drying in tangled heaps above the high tide line.

"Adom, why does the air taste different here than in the city?"

"Less smoke. More salt."

"I like it." Bennu spread his wings and flapped them experimentally, stirring up a small cloud of sand. "It makes me want to fly higher."

"Don't get too far ahead."

"I won't! I promise!"

Adom chuckled.

The eastern horizon was starting to lighten, painting the sky in gradual shades of deep blue and purple. They were cutting it close. Sam and Eren would already be at their usual spot, probably wondering where he was.

The three of them had started meeting here about two years ago, after Sam had mentioned wanting to see more sunrises. It had become routine. Every few days, they'd make the trek down to this particular stretch of beach where the rock formations created a natural amphitheater facing east. The sunrise here was something special. For about ten minutes, just as the sun cleared the horizon, there would be this cloud formation that caught the light in all the right ways. Streams of color that looked almost solid, like someone had painted ribbons across the sky.

Adom spotted the familiar silhouettes ahead, two figures sitting on their usual boulder. Sam and Eren, right where they should be.

"Oh!" Bennu exclaimed, stopping mid-hop. "There are people there! Humans!"

He looked up at Adom with bright, curious eyes. "Is that okay? Should we go somewhere else?"

"No, they're fine. They're the friends I told you about."

"The ones who bring food?"

"Sometimes."

Bennu's feathers ruffled with excitement. "Really? I get to meet them? Can I talk to them?"

"If you want to."

"Of course I want to! I've been waiting to meet other people for so long!"

As they approached, Sam looked back over his shoulder. He nudged Eren, who turned as well. Both of them straightened up when they saw Adom wasn't alone.

"You're late," Eren called out.

"Long day and night," Adom replied. "But hey, I'm here. Just as I promised."

Sam was staring at Bennu with barely concealed amazement. "Adom, is this..."

"Bennu!" the phoenix announced proudly, hopping forward. "I am Bennu! You must be Sam! And you must be Eren! I heard you a few times from inside my egg!"

Sam's mouth fell open slightly. Eren just blinked.

"It's very nice to finally meet you both," Bennu continued, completely oblivious to their shock. "Adom has told me so much about you. Well, not that much, because Adom doesn't talk very much, but he told me you're good friends and that Sam is very smart and Eren makes excellent jokes."

Adom cleared his throat. "I wanted you all to meet each other."

"A phoenix," Sam said quietly, like he was afraid speaking too loudly might make Bennu disappear.

"The last time I saw one was in a book," Eren added.

"Books are nice," Bennu said agreeably. "Though I imagine they're not very accurate about what we actually act like."

As Adom settled onto the sand next to his friends, he noticed a familiar container sitting between them. "Is that Old Mari's meat pies?"

"The cheesy ones, yeah," Sam confirmed, still staring at Bennu.

Eren reached into his pack and pulled out a small wrapped bundle. "Mom's cookies. Still warm."

Sam fumbled around behind him and produced two bottles, condensation still beading on their sides. "Two frosties. Eren said you had someone to present to us, but I would have never guessed it would be a phoenix. We got an extra anyway." He looked at Bennu uncertainly. "Do you... do you want some?"

"Did you say meat pie?" Bennu's head swiveled toward the container with laser focus.

Sam looked at Adom questioningly.

"He likes salty more than sweet," Adom explained.

Sam carefully opened the container and offered Bennu one of the small, golden pastries. The phoenix accepted it delicately in his beak, then immediately devoured half of it in one enthusiastic bite.

"This is incredible!" he mumbled around the mouthful. "Is this what this food always tastes like?"

"Not always," Eren said, relaxing slightly. "But Mari's pretty good at what she does."

Both Sam and Eren were trying very hard to act casual, but Adom could see the barely restrained excitement in their eyes. They wanted to ask a thousand questions, wanted to examine Bennu's feathers and hear him talk more and probably take notes about everything. But they were holding back, probably not wanting to overwhelm either Bennu or Adom.

The sky was lightening faster now, deep purple giving way to pink and orange. The horizon was starting to glow.

"Almost time," Sam said, settling back against the rock.

"Time for what?" Bennu asked, still working on his meat pie.

"Watch," Adom said simply.

The sun crested the horizon like a slow explosion, sending streams of gold across the water. And then, just as it always did, the cloud formation began. Wisps of moisture high in the atmosphere caught the early light and transformed it, bending it into incredible colors. Bands of red and orange and purple stretched across the sky like someone had taken a paintbrush to the heavens.

Bennu stopped eating entirely, his beak hanging open as he stared upward. "What... what is that?"

"Morning," Eren said with a grin.

The display lasted exactly as long as it always did. Eight minutes of beauty, and then the sun climbed higher and the clouds shifted and it was just a regular sunrise again.

Bennu was still staring at the sky, his feathers practically glowing in the early light. "That was... I don't have words for that."

"Good thing it happens regularly," Sam said, offering him the rest of the meat pie.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all, Adom thought, taking a sip of his frosty and breathing in the salt air. The cool bottle felt good in his hands. The sand was warm where the sun hit it. His friends were here, Bennu was happy, and for the first time in today, nothing was trying to kill him or steal from him or complicate his life.

He could get used to mornings like this.