Travis watched Jason's silence with the patience of a man who had spent decades extracting answers from people who didn't want to give them."Before you say anything," Travis said, raising one hand, "I should tell you that the rumor isn't taken seriously by most people. And the reason for that has a name. James Walker."Jason's expression didn't change, but the name registered. He had heard it before. Fragments. Passing references in old news archives he had skimmed while researching the history of rifts and awakeners."James Walker," Travis continued, settling back in his chair, "claimed to be a returnee about ten years ago in California. He showed up at a Hunter Association regional office with detailed knowledge about dimensional rifts, mana hall structures, and demonic hierarchies that nobody on Earth should have possessed. The association took him seriously for about three weeks.""What happened?""He proved credible. Frighteningly so. He described things that matched classified

Charlie Jackson called Jason on a Tuesday morning, his voice carrying the manic energy of a director who had been running on caffeine and adrenaline for three straight months."We wrapped two days ago. Final edit is already in post. Summit is pushing the marketing rollout into overdrive." He paused to catch his breath. "Also, Steven Sterling wants to meet you."Jason was sitting in his office at Unique, reviewing the new trainee evaluation reports Kyle Hughes had submitted. He set the papers down."Sterling personally?""Personally. He called the production office himself, which apparently never happens. His assistant said he wants a private meeting before you leave for the West Coast." Charlie's voice dropped slightly. "I don't know what he wants to talk about, but when the chairman of Summit Group asks for a meeting, you don't say no.""When?""Thursday. His office. Two o'clock.""I'll be there."Jason ended the call and sat quietly for a moment. Steven Sterling was not a man who ar

The visiting room at California State Correctional Facility smelled like floor cleaner and stale air. Plastic chairs sat bolted to the floor on either side of a long table divided by a low partition that served no practical purpose except to remind everyone present that one side was free and the other was not.James Walker sat on the institutional side with his hands resting flat on the table. He was fifty three years old but looked older, the kind of older that comes from years of careful, deliberate stillness. His hair had gone gray at the temples and his face carried the permanent quiet of a man who had stopped expecting anything from the world a long time ago.The door on the visitor side opened and his daughter walked in.Alencia Walker was twenty two, sharp featured, and carrying the particular energy of someone who had driven three hours through traffic fueled entirely by stubbornness. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her oversized hoodie hung past her wri

Jason picked up the offer letter, read it once more, and set it back down on the desk."No," he said.Sterling didn't flinch. His expression remained perfectly composed, but his eyes sharpened by a fraction, the way a chess player's do when an opponent makes an unexpected move."May I ask why?""Because this isn't a scouting offer. It's an acquisition." Jason met his gaze evenly. "You're not hiring me for my ability to find talented hunters. You're hiring me because I'm a returnee. A confirmed one, by your own intelligence. And a returnee working exclusively under Summit Group's banner becomes the most powerful bargaining chip in the industry."Sterling said nothing."Grand Nova has three S rank hunters and decades of institutional dominance," Jason continued. "No amount of money or recruitment talent threatens that. But a returnee does. Someone who understands the other world, who carries knowledge that nobody else on this planet possesses, who can predict threats before they appear.

Aria stared at Jason's face. She had seen him intense before. She had seen him focused, calculating, and controlled under pressure. But the expression he wore now, staring at the frozen frame of Alencia Walker's back on her phone screen, was something different. It was the look of a man who had just found a piece of a puzzle he didn't know was missing."What is it?" she asked. "What did you see?"Jason was quiet for a moment. Then he set the phone down on the desk and leaned back in his chair."In the other world," he said slowly, "there were people who carried marks on their bodies. Not tattoos. Not scars. Something deeper. Something that appeared on its own, usually during adolescence, and grew over time."Aria listened without interrupting. She could tell from the weight in his voice that whatever he was about to explain was not casual information."They were called stigmata. Each one was unique in shape, but they all shared the same fundamental structure. A radiating pattern that