Before I step out of the skyscraper into the heat, I close my eyes for a second.
[84:32:41]
Plenty of time to finish the plan. I find myself wondering what Memory of Lightwaves would do here on Earth, where there are no dead and no Echo fragments. Probably nothing. Or maybe something I haven't figured out yet.
That can wait.
I leave Azurea's tower with my objective clear.
Alliances. Specifically the ones the Deepwarden has already broken or is about to. Cornered people make the best partners—they take the first hand offered to them and they remember.
But before politics, I need money. A lot more than five thousand GNC.
I adjust the tie. Cheap fabric, visibly used, but it still carries enough dignity at distance to say, 'Take me seriously.'
I've already proven I look like my father. Same face. Same jaw. Same dark hair cut without patience. The only difference is the eyes—his were amber, mine are green. My mother's inheritance.
But eyes can be explained.
