Chapter 215
MEET UP (2)
IAM stepped out of the academy and into the streets. They were immaculate, paved with a smooth material that didn't even crack under the changing weather. Buildings rose high on either side, their designs bending conventional rules—glass facades that curved impossibly, steel frameworks that seemed to float, and stone that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, all blending together like brushstrokes on a living canvas.
Every avenue was lined with luxurious stores, displaying the latest in technology and fashion. Even after weeks of exposure, the gadgets and garments still seemed almost absurd, designed more for spectacle than necessity. Yet slowly, IAM felt a creeping sense of familiarity—he wasn't getting lost as often, he recognized certain landmarks, and the flow of the streets no longer intimidated him.
He walked with a hint of swagger, letting the early chill brush against him. The air had begun to sharpen with the approach of the colder months, and passersby were already shifting into heavier layers. IAM adjusted the collar of his hoodie, letting a small, self-satisfied smirk appear on his face.
He eventually arrived, standing in front of his destination. The building's had warm beige walls offset by dark wooden accents, and a small brass plaque by the entrance. It felt inviting, calm, almost unassuming in contrast to the chaotic brilliance of the streets.
IAM stepped inside. His footsteps sank into a carpet so plush it seemed to absorb sound, giving the hallway a quiet, almost intimate feel. The walls were lined with simple bookshelves and framed prints. He followed the short hallway until he reached the familiar door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in," came the deep, steady voice from the other side.
IAM hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open, stepping into the room.
The room looked exactly as it had the last time he'd been here. A well-accommodating space, arranged to ease the mind the moment you stepped in.
The air carried a gentle, earthy scent, faintly sweetened by the low-burning candles on a side table, their flames flickering quietly as if in conversation with the sunlight streaming through the half-drawn curtains. Golden bands of light spilled across the floor, stretching toward the furniture like soft fingers of warmth.
The walls were decorated with paintings, each carefully chosen. Some depicted wide, tranquil landscapes—endless wheat fields under pale blue skies, mountains rising through morning mist. Others were intimate snapshots of life: families clasping hands and smiles.
In the center of the room, furniture was arranged with plush chairs scattered in easy conversation clusters, but the eye was drawn to the pair of large leather couches facing each other. On the left couch sat Thomas.
He was a figure not easily overlooked. Short, but solid, he bore all the distinctions of a Giant's descendant. His head was smooth and bald, framed by a thick, dark beard neatly trimmed along his jaw. A gold-chained monocle rested over one eye, catching the light in brief, sharp flashes.
His ten fingers rested lightly in his lap, each adorned with ornate rings that shimmered as he moved. His suit was immaculate—a tailored crimson ensemble over a crisp white shirt. Around his wrist, an expensive watch glinted faintly.
Thomas's gaze carried an odd weight, as if he had carried countless burdens not his own, holding them carefully without ever letting them drop.
He gave IAM a small smile, one that seemed genuine. "Welcome back, IAM," he said, his voice calm. "It has been a while, and it's good to see you again."
"It's good to see you again too. How have you been? Is the family well? That's a new suit, isn't it? I like your watch," IAM rattled off, his words tumbling out almost too quickly, as if he was trying to keep the focus off himself.
Thomas's smile widened just slightly, but his eyes stayed gentle, almost knowing. "I'm doing well, thank you," he said softly, his tone was easy. "The family's fine… busy, as always. And yes, it is a new suit. Glad you noticed the watch—you've got an eye for details."
He leaned back a little, letting the quiet stretch for a moment before continuing, his voice lowering."You seem… in a hurry to fill the space with everything but yourself, though. It's okay. I know why you do that. But if you want, we can talk about… whatever's on your mind."
IAM sank into the chair with a heavy sigh. He met Thomas's gaze directly and went straight to the point. "I remember the last time we spoke," he said, his voice steady. "You tried to talk about the others, and… I folded. I avoided the conversation. But now… I'm ready to talk about them."
Thomas's expression softened, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he nodded. "I'm glad, IAM," he said quietly. "It's not easy to face that kind of loss… the ones who shaped so much of your life, who were gone before their time."
He leaned forward just a fraction, resting his elbows lightly on his knees. "Start wherever you want—tell me about them. What you remember, what you miss, anything at all. Take your time."
IAM cleared his throat before speaking. "Well… first, I'd like to talk about the person who has had the biggest positive impact on me… Raj."
Thomas nodded slowly, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Raj," he echoed softly, as if saying the name aloud gave it meaning. "Tell me about him. What was it about Raj that left such an impression on you? I want to hear who Raj was through your eyes," he said gently.
IAM's gaze grew distant. "He… felt like an older brother. Reliable, kind, funny… always willing to help. He was someone you just knew you could trust."
Thomas nodded slowly, letting IAM's words settle in the quiet of the room. "An older brother," he murmured, his tone soft, reflective. "Someone you could rely on, someone whose presence alone brought a sense of safety. It sounds like Raj gave you more than guidance—he gave you reassurance, a sense of being understood."
He paused. "And losing someone like that... it leaves a mark, doesn't it? Even the smallest memories of them can feel heavy, lingering long after they're gone."
Thomas's voice remained calm, as though he understood the depth of absence better than anyone. "Tell me, IAM, what do you remember most about him?"
"I remember the first time I went to him for advice," IAM began. "It was just after I'd suffered from mana exposure—after pushing myself too hard trying to form an Avien. I was told I wouldn't be able to attempt it again for at least another month. It was… incredibly frustrating. Hard to accept. I didn't know what to do or where to go from there. So I went to him. And he… he really helped me during that tough time, offering advice I desperately needed."