Alex, Jonathan, Michael, and Nia successfully arrived at the city, their quadcopter settling on a downtown helipad perched atop a luxurious hotel.

  As the aircraft’s rotors slowed to a gentle hum, the siblings stepped out, bundling against the brisk winter air. Beyond the helipad’s railings sprawled a panoramic view of the city’s skyline—towering spires of glass and steel competing with venerable structures scarred by past calamities. The crisp daylight glinted off distant windows, weaving an almost festive shimmer across the urban sprawl.

  They were greeted by a man wearing a flowery Hawaiian shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops, standing casually in the dead of winter as though it were a balmy summer afternoon. His fiery red hair matched his sideburns, and dark sunglasses hid his eyes behind mirrored lenses. The wind ruffled his loose, tropical attire, yet he appeared wholly unbothered by the biting cold.

  “Hello kids!” the figure spoke, projecting a confident, easy-going drawl. “My name is Hubert Heck. Your mother sort of coaxed me into accompanying you lot. So here we are,” he scratched at the back of his head in a half-sheepish gesture. “Before you ask: No, I’m not weird; I’m not cold; and yes, I am a contractor.”

  Michael exchanged surprised looks with his siblings. The unusual new acquaintance cut a stark contrast against the backdrop of suited attendants and polished hotel staff roaming the rooftop. Still, Hubert’s relaxed demeanor suggested he was far from incompetent.

  “Nice to meet you,” Alex said, stepping forward. With a polite dip of his head, he extended his hand. “I am Alex Mercer, the eldest of the siblings.”

  Hubert stared blankly, glancing down at the offered hand but making no move to grasp it. “Sorry, I don’t shake,” he said brusquely. “It’s not you, I’m just not much of a physical contact guy.”

  “I see,” Alex muttered, withdrawing his hand in slight confusion. Clearing his throat, he gestured toward the rest of his siblings. “This is Jonathan, Michael, and Nia.”

  “I know—I was informed,” Hubert stated, nodding curtly at each of them. “Look, you can do whatever the hell you want. I’m only here as a deterrent for inconvenient things.”

  “Inconvenient things you say,” Michael murmured, his curiosity piqued. Shadows danced beneath his eyes, hints of late nights spent preparing city patrols or delving into guild research.

  Jonathan sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Where are we going first?” he asked, pulling the collar of his coat tighter against a sudden gust of wind.

  “I wanted to go see my friends,” Michael stated, glancing between his siblings.

  Although the day was theirs to seize, his tone was tinged with a sense of urgency, as if this meeting was something he postponed far too many times.

  “Those weirdos again?” Alex shook his head, rolling his eyes. A smirk tugged at his lips, but beneath it lay a hint of acceptance that Michael’s social circle remained something of a mystery to him.

  “Hey! They aren’t that weird,” Michael countered, crossing his arms. Though his stance was defensive, there was a playful edge to his retort.

  “Fine, fine…” Alex relented with a sigh, exchanging glances with Jonathan. “Let’s go to the academy then. I wanted to see Robert either way.”

  “Great,” Hubert chimed in, sounding relieved that a decision had been made. “There’s a car already waiting for us downstairs.” He turned on his heel, his flip-flops slapping against the helipad’s surface, and strode toward a nearby elevator shaft.

  Reaching the controls, he pressed the down button and glanced over his shoulder at the four siblings. “What are you waiting for? Come here.”

  The group exchanged silent, amused looks, then followed Hubert into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, the wind outside was cut off entirely, replaced by the gentle buzz of halogen lights and the hiss of descending machinery.

  When the elevator doors once again slid apart with a clean mechanical hiss, the group emerged into the polished marble vestibule of the hotel’s top floor. A soft chime accompanied their exit, and the muted echoes of the city’s bustle filtered in through distant corridors. Mirrored accents and potted evergreens decorated the passage leading to the front lobby, each detail speaking to the hotel’s insistence on luxury despite the seasonal chill beyond its doors.

  They walked briskly through the lobby, an elegant space filled with subdued conversations, clinking teacups, and the faint strains of a lounge piano. Plush carpeting dulled their footsteps as they passed polished reception counters, where staff exchanged polite nods and hushed greetings. A swirl of warm air—redolent with the scent of cinnamon and evergreen—reminded them how quickly winter’s cold would clamp down once they stepped outside.

  Stepping through the tall glass doors, they were immediately greeted by a light snowfall drifting from the overcast sky. The towering buildings that rose on every side served as natural windbreakers, muting the harsh gusts that might otherwise whip through the streets. Snowflakes clung to the pavement and glimmered in the neon glow of nearby storefronts. The steady stream of pedestrians—some wrapped in thick coats and scarves, others moving briskly to keep warm—added a constant blur of motion. Against this backdrop, the clamor of honking cars and spirited street vendors created a lively urban rhythm that reverberated from all directions.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Parked at the curb, a glossy black limousine stood out against the swirling flakes. Its tinted windows reflected the nearby streetlamps and illuminated hotel entrance in ghostly patterns. Hubert, still looking oddly comfortable in his Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, stepped ahead and opened the passenger door with a theatrical flourish.

  “Your chariot awaits,” he said, leaning down with a lopsided grin, motioning for them to climb inside. Alex was the first to approach, exchanging a curious glance with Jonathan. Michael placed a reassuring hand on Nia’s shoulder, guiding her forward through the crisp air and into the limo’s cozy interior. Once they were all inside, Hubert closed the door behind them, sealing off the noise of the bustling street. And just like that, their foray into the city began in earnest, the hush of the limousine cocooning them from the lively chaos outside.

  And so they took off, driving across the city, towards the academy. Outside the limousine windows, the urban sprawl gradually morphed into a tapestry of soaring buildings and lively thoroughfares. Gleaming skyscrapers next to weathered relics of a pre-apocalyptic era provided a fascinating collage: one block bursting with modern arcades and neon signage, the next a cluster of old brick apartments still bearing soot-blackened walls. During their journey, the ever-present city noise—vendors hawking wares on the sidewalks, distant sirens, and the ceaseless honk of congested traffic—formed a restless backdrop to the siblings’ conversation.

  “Brother, what exactly is the academy?” Nia wondered, turning her head towards Michael.

  Her soft query cut through the buzz of tires on asphalt. She rested her elbows against the plush seat’s armrest, curiosity lighting her eyes as she looked up at him.

  “It’s a little hard to explain.” Michael paused, choosing his words with care. “The academy is a place where young capable contractors are raised to be knights. But, well, I wouldn’t really call it an education facility. In reality, it’s more of a training camp so that young contractors do not rampage and spiral out of control.” He exhaled slowly after admitting this, recalling the strict standards and harsh discipline that typified the academy’s regime. The organization prized control above all else, instilling discipline in those who wielded uncanny power.

  “Then brother, why are you not at the academy?” Nia asked in a concerned expression. A flicker of worry crossed her features, as though she feared Michael might be missing out on something important—or perhaps in danger because he wasn’t there.

  “I’m a little bit different.” Michael paused again, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s say that I lack what other contractors have. And they lack what I have.” He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but a note of wistfulness surfaced, betraying a history of complicated feelings on the matter.

  “Lack what you have,” Nia repeated with a confused expression. Her small brow furrowed. She wanted to press further, but some instinct told her not to pry too deeply just yet.

  “Yes, you’ll grow to understand it eventually,” Michael stated. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair, though his eyes were distant, as though recalling moments from a past he chose not to describe in detail. Nia gave a small nod, turning her gaze to the window once more.

  Their limousine glided onto a broad, winding street that climbed steadily uphill, lined by rows of evergreen shrubs dusted with winter’s delicate touch. The hum of the city dulled in the background, replaced by a quiet that came from moving further from the bustling downtown heart.

  And just like that they reached the academy hill. Before them stood a massive building. A mix of both old and modern: it consisted of an old chapel that was being supported by structures erected out of reinforced concrete and metal frames.

  Jagged pillars rose around the stone chapel like colossal scaffolding, the aged Gothic spires contrasting dramatically with sleek beams and grated walkways. Stained-glass windows—likely once shattered during the apocalypse—had been painstakingly restored, glowing faintly under the wintry midday light. Massive overhead lights and security perimeters hinted at the rigorous nature of what went on within.

  The siblings stepped on academy ground, walking through the security checkpoint in the way there.

  A short line had formed near the entrance gate—a towering steel archway adorned with embedded runes that glowed faintly whenever contractors passed through. Armed guards in crisp uniforms stood at either side, each wearing a badge bearing the academy’s insignia. The siblings presented their identification without fuss, the guards quickly scanning it into a sleek console that buzzed softly with every approved entry.

  Beyond the checkpoint stretched a spacious courtyard paved in geometric patterns of concrete and ancient cobblestone, the latter remnants of the chapel’s original foundation. Groups of trainees milled about, sporting the academy’s standard uniform, hurrying between classes or gathering in clusters to compare notes.

  “Alright guys, I’m off,” Michael said, walking away along the hall. A tall, arched passageway opened on one side of the courtyard, leading into a corridor that was half-gothic stone and half-modern steel walkway. Without waiting for a response, Michael slipped into that hallway with purposeful strides, weaving among students and staff with the confidence of someone who’d navigated these grounds many times.

  “Where are you going?” Alex wondered. His brow furrowed in mild annoyance, though curiosity underpinned his question. He took a step after Michael, glancing at Nia and Jonathan to gauge whether either of them intended to follow.

  “To see my friends!” Micheal replied, disappearing into the crowd. His voice echoed briefly off the high ceiling of the corridor.

  “Goddamn it!” Alex scoffed as he raked a hand through his hair.

  “Should I go and bring him back?” Hubert wondered. He looked at Alex over the brim of his tinted sunglasses. Though his tone was casual, there was no mistaking the readiness in his posture—he was clearly prepared to act if Alex so commanded.

  “No,” Alex sighed. “Don’t bother. Once he sets his mind on something he becomes a pain to deal with.”