The man in the white suit stepped through a shimmering silver doorway and entered a vast, pristine chamber of white stone and glass.
The walls glowed faintly with living light and dozens of floating hologram monitors drifted lazily in the air like leaves on a calm river.
This was his monitoring room just like the one Agatha and thr ither World Master had. It hung suspended between dimensions, invisible to mortals, yet deeply tied to their fate.
He walked without hurry, hands still in his pockets, shoes making no sound. A thin smile curved his lips.
"Open feed," he said lazily.
The largest hologram pulsed, flickered, then expanded. It showed a teenage boy's face with slightly ruffled dark hair, tired eyes, a slouched posture that tried to hide a sharp mind.
The boy's name was Jack Kessler.
The man narrowed his eyes in amusement.
"Hmm," he murmured, stopping in front of the projection. "You don't look like much, kid. You even look so weak."
