the heavy oak doors

hit his eyes, making him squint. The air smelled of lemon

om. She wiped her hands on her apron. "Mr. Iverson

ot breaking his stride as he head

he second-fl

aring a perfectly pressed cashmere sweater. He loo

l snort of disgust. "Smells like

ked right past him, his shoulder brushing violently against

ed inside, and slammed it shut. He reac

room was massive, filled with antique furnitur

stained with the grime of the Blackwater District, ripp

rabbed his black backpack, which he had t

he bag tipped. Three heavy textbooks sp

ut from between the pages of a ma

k up the mess. His hand stop

bold gold foil, was the logo for Apex Academia, the wo

ared at th

cleared from his eyes. His gaze sharpened into something terrifyingly focused, cold, a

d up, and sat down in the hea

ne Alienware rig. His mother thought he used

haracter alphanumeric sequence that would have lock

p. He clicked on a blank, u

ed a red light,

e

face filled with complex algorithms, global

through the speakers. "Welcom

chair. A slow, arrogant s

disappointment. He was a god. He dominated the sm

ification box popped up in

der's name glowed in silver: The O

the message. It

e coming. I am going to dra

gerous smile. His fingers hovered over the

r

hoed in the hallwa

Bang

ith anger. "Open this door right now! Do you think what you did today

k, picked up a pair of heavy, black noise-canc

mother's anger va

uminated his sharp jawline and his intens