Chapter 158

Library card and three sets of headphones in hand, I led them over to the computers.

“I might regret this,” I said, pulling out a chair, “but I’m about to introduce you to the magic of the internet.”

They all leaned in.

“First someground rules.” I held up a finger. “One, not everything on the internet is true. Anyone can put anything here. Some people lie to be funny. Some lie to be cruel. Some lie just to see what happens. If something catches your interest, check it somewhere else. Wikipedia is usually fine for a quick reference.” I scribbled the address on a scrap of paper and slid it across the desk.

“Two, the internet can be a scary place. There’s… a lot out there. Sex. ****. People getting hurt. Try not to go looking for it.”

“Three, if something tells you to click, or that you’re in danger, or asks for money - don’t. There are people who will try to steal from you or break the computer. They don’t need to be anywhere near you to do it. That’s the trade-off. The internet connects the whole world.” I tapped the screen lightly. “That includes the bad parts.”

I glanced between them. “Still with me?”

They nodded.

“Alright. Let’s get started. Lilae - you wanted a documentary?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Good. Let’s start with YouTube.” I opened a browser and typed in the address. “What do you want to learn about?”

“Humans,” she said immediately. “You said there’s only humans here, but there are so many different kinds. It’s like you have a dozen different races!”

I smiled. “Fair point. Let’s see what we can find.”

I pulled up a National Geographic video - something grounded, reliable - and handed her the headphones. She watched every movement of my hands like she was memorizing a spell.

I hit play.

She ripped the headphones off and nearly fell out of her chair. “He’s talking!” she whispered, eyes wide. “Is someone on the other side of the world talking to me right now?”

I paused the video, fighting a grin. “No. Someone recorded their voice, along with the images. Now anyone, anywhere, can watch it. Same voice. Same moment.”

She blinked, processing that.

I slipped the headphones back over her ears. “Trust me. You’ll like it.”

I kissed the top of her head and hit play again.

She didn’t move after that. Completely absorbed.

“Elise,” I said, turning. “Let’s introduce you to Google.”

It didn’t take much. A few minutes of explanation, a couple of searches, and she was off - eyes scanning, mind already racing ahead of the tool in front of her.

“Remember,” I added, “books are still better for anything important.”

She nodded without looking away from the screen.

That left Mirri.

“I’m going to go find Jenkins and Donnelly,” I told her. “You stay here. Keep an eye on those two. Try to keep them from breaking anything. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

She gave me a narrow, suspicious look.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Besides… I think you’ll want to see this.”

I sat her down at a computer, settled the headphones over her ears, and queued up a documentary on the sixties.

“This,” I said softly, “is the world your great granda came from.”

I kissed her on the head and hit play.

For a moment, she just watched. Then the music started and she was drawn into the sounds and sights of the world she had heard so much about.

* * *

I left the library and made my way to the 9th District station, where Officer Jenkins and Detective Donnelly worked.

The Inquirer Building loomed over the block - broad and heavy, all bright, white stone and windows. Five stories stretched across the width of the block, with additional levels rising in the front before narrowing into a clock tower that seemed both completely out of place and yet unsurprising amid the rest of the architecture.

Inside, I stepped up to the front desk. “Excuse me, is Detective Donnelly in today? Marcus Donnelly, if there’s more than one.”

“Name?” the officer behind the counter asked without looking up.

“Seth. Rittenhouse.”

“Reason?” he asked.

“I have information about a case he’s working on.” It was close enough to the truth.

He picked up the phone. “Desk. Donnelly in? Got someone here. Rittenhouse.” A pause. “Alright.”

He hung up and nodded toward a row of chairs. “He’ll be down in a few minutes.”

I sat and waited.

Donnelly came through a side door about five minutes later, composed as ever. No rush. No hesitation. Just controlled movement. I stood as he approached.

His eyes swept the room - me, the civilians, the officers - taking stock of everything in a single pass.

“You’re either the bravest man I’ve ever met,” he said, voice low, “or the dumbest. Not sure which.” He paused. “You don’t talk in my lobby,” he added. “Walk with me.”

He turned without waiting for a response and headed back the way he’d come.

I followed.

He moved with purpose - steady, measured. Not rushed, not relaxed. Just… deliberate. A few turns, a quiet hallway, then a door. He opened it and stood aside.

I went in.

It looked like an interview room - table, chairs, a few plastic bottles of water. No cameras. No mirror. This room was chosen for privacy.

He followed, closed the door, and turned to face me. “Start talking,” he said. “Why walk into a police station?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this where you work?” I asked. “You didn’t give me your number.” I gave him a small smirk. “And I don’t have a phone.”

I pulled out a chair and sat, watching him. He stayed standing for a moment, jaw tight, weighing things. Then he sat across from me.

“You’re pretty relaxed,” he said, “for someone sitting in a building that might be crawling with people who want to kill you.”

“My wellbeing was never a concern,” I replied. “I’m… effectively immortal. You might manage kill me with enough explosives. Maybe a nuclear bomb, but I’m not even sure about that.”

He studied me, expression unreadable. “So why are you here?”

“I found something,” I said. “Didn’t have it with me last time - I was a little busy making sure my daughter was safe. But this time-”

A quick knock cut me off.

“Stay,” Donnelly said, already moving.

He cracked the door, exchanged a quick glance with someone outside, then stepped back.

Jenkins came in and Donnelly closed the door again.

“Officer,” I said. “Good to see you. Hope you’re doing well.”

That threw him for a second. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“I was just about to explain. Have a seat.”

They did.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the ledgers, setting them on the table between us.

“I found these in my world. Covenant records. Didn’t bring them last time - again, priorities - but I figured you might know more about them.”

I slid a set across the table to each one.

“The first one’s names and addresses. All over the world. I don’t know what they are - agents, targets, something else - but there are a few local entries. Figured that might interest you.”

They flipped through it.

“There are hundreds of names in here,” Jenkins said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Probably better if you’re the ones knocking on those doors.”

I tapped the second ledger.

“These are shipping manifests. I’m pretty sure anything tagged ‘MC’ is mana crystals. They’ll be able to use magic here with those. And the amount they’re moving? That’s a lot of power.” I exhaled. “For context, I built a stone wall - ten feet tall, six hundred feet long, and it probably took about eighty million thaums. At least, that’s my guess”

I leaned back slightly. “They’re shipping crystals that hold twenty to fifty million each. Hundreds of them.”

Silence stretched for a moment.

“That’s enough to level several cities,” I said quietly. “People. Buildings. Everything.”

Jenkins swore under his breath.

“What I don’t understand is what’s coming the other way,” I continued. “There’s a lot labeled M4A1. And these - FNT, HPL. Among others.”

“Guns,” Donnelly said immediately. “M4A1’s a rifle. Standard issue military hardware, more or less. Replaced the M16 ten, fifteen years ago.”

“What about FNT?” Jenkins asked. “Fentanyl?”

“Maybe,” Donnelly said. “Could be. Could be something else.” He looked at me. “You see any of this firsthand?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Smashed a few crates. A bunch of ammo, too. And two pallets of white powder.”

“Where is it now?”

“Under about forty feet of lava,” I said. “I… lost my temper.”

Donnelly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve got people working new angles,” I added. “But I’m not exactly a detective.”

“We’ll take these,” Jenkins said. “See what we can find.”

“Good,” I said. “And be careful. If someone decides you’re working with me, things could get… unpleasant. I’d rather not have to pull you out of a carnivorous tree. Or incinerate you if you become a plant person.”

Jenkins nodded once.

Donnelly closed the ledger, fingers resting on the cover. “So what now?”

“Now?” I stood. “I go pick Lilae up from the library. I introduced her to the internet, so she’s probably rotted half her brain by now.”

“Next time, call first,” Donnelly said and paused. “If you can.”

The two men rose and walked me out. Donnelly peeled off after a few turns, disappearing back into the station. Jenkins kept going, leading me down a quieter hall to a side exit.

He opened the door, paused, checked both directions. “You’re clear.”

“Thanks,” I said, moving past him. I glanced back over my shoulder. “Oh, and Lilae says hi.”

* * *

The sun had already dipped below the skyline by the time I made it back to the library. Inside, the library hadn’t changed much - quiet, steady, insulated from the passage of time.

Lilae and Mirri were still exactly where I’d left them.

Lilae was practically vibrating in her chair, laughing one second and yelling something at the screen the next. Mirri sat beside her, eyes closed, head moving faintly to a rhythm only she could hear. If not for that subtle motion, I would’ve thought she’d fallen asleep.

Elise was nowhere in sight.

I went to Lilae first and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She jumped, then yanked her headphones off.

“Thren!” she nearly yelled. “This guy tried to eat a dead spider and got so scared he climbed into the back of his own car!”

I chuckled. “That does sound funny,” I said, lowering my voice. “But you’ve got to keep it down. People are trying to study.”

She deflated for half a second - then snapped right back.

“Are octopuses real?”

“Yes,” I said. “They’re real.”

Her eyes lit up. “They’re so cool! I can’t believe it! This place has everything! I saw what video games are! Are humans really related to monkeys? And is there really a place called Australia where everything tries to kill you? Do people really eat rotten fish? And cheese with bugs in it? How do airplanes stay in the air? Why are there so many ghosts here? And is Slender Man real? Like, does he actually kidnap kids at night?”

I pulled her a little closer, laughing under my breath. “That’s… a lot of questions. We’ll go through them when we get home, alright?”

“Okay!” she said immediately. “I have so many more questions!”

“I’m not surprised.”

I kissed the top of her head, then reached over and rested a hand on Mirri’s shoulder.

Her eyes snapped open - sharp and alert - then softened when she saw me. She slipped the headphones off.

“Back already?” she asked.

I smiled. “It’s been four hours.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Really.”

She exhaled, glancing at the screen like she was **** to leave it behind. “Alright.”

“It’s time to go,” I said. “I’ll grab Elise.”

Mirri nodded and began gathering the headphones, carefully winding the cords back up the way we’d received them. Lilae hovered close, still buzzing with excitement.

I followed my Faith-scape and found Elise in the science wing.

She’d claimed a table and turned it into a small disaster zone - stacks of books rising around her like uneven towers. Four lay open in front of her, and she was writing quickly in her journal - the pages nearly filled.

I stepped up behind her, set my hands lightly on her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.

She made a soft, pleased sound, finished the line she was writing, then looked up at me with a small smile.

“It is fascinating here,” she said. “So much knowledge. So many things I have never encountered - never even considered.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s pretty neat.”

I nodded toward the door. “But it’s time to go.”

She accepted that easily enough. “I should return these first.”

She stood and began gathering the books, moving with quiet efficiency. Shelf to shelf, she returned them to their proper places - pausing now and then to straighten a row or correct a misfiled book. It took her about fifteen minutes to put everything back, but she did it with the same practiced precision she brought to everything else.

When she finished, we returned the headphones, thanked the librarians, and stepped out into the evening air.

“Do we have to go home now?” Lilae asked, already sounding disappointed.

“Not yet,” I said.

She perked up immediately.

“We’ve got one more stop.”

“What kind of stop?”

I smiled. “The kind you’re going to like.”