Chapter 217
MEET UP (4)
IAM kept glancing down at his phone, double-checking the location Thor had sent him. The meeting point was somewhere near Haven, which made things easier—he was at least somewhat familiar with the area.
Speaking of Haven Hospital… it had been a long time since he'd last seen Maye, the private nurse who'd been assigned to him when he first woke up.
He wondered if she still remembered him. He wasn't the first patient she'd ever cared for, and he definitely wouldn't be the last. But still… maybe she did.
She had been one of the few—emphasis on had—who knew the truth: that he was the sole survivor of the Hold. And also… the fact that he'd tried to take his own life not long after waking up in that hospital bed... That wasn't exactly the kind of thing people forgot easily.
IAM exhaled slowly. For some reason, she had always reminded him of Althea. Maybe it was the way she looked after him, or the quiet, constant support she offered. Sure, it was her job, but there was something about her that went beyond that.
She felt… like an older sister.
IAM gave his head a small shake, trying to pull himself out of the strange mood that had started to settle over him. There was no point sinking deeper. He focused back on his phone, his eyes scanning the map again.
As he continued walking, the surroundings slowly started to look more familiar. The further he went, the more memories came back—bits and pieces, like street corners he vaguely recognized or buildings he had once passed.
He strolled by Lux Jewellery, one of the more boogie shops in the Higher Sector. Through the towering glass windows, he caught a glimpse of the inside. The entire store sparkled under soft golden light. Velvet-lined counters stretched across the floors, attended by staff in elegant uniforms. Customers—well-dressed and dripping in wealth—admired glittering necklaces, finely cut bracelets, and rows of rings. In the far corner, a piercing station gleamed under its own spotlight, all silver tools and delicate studs arranged like instruments in a symphony.
IAM kept walking, though a quiet suspicion began to creep into him. Something about the route was off. Where exactly was Thor leading him?
Several more minutes passed.
And finally—he arrived.
He had arrived outside a café.
IAM paused at the entrance, then turned around—just to be sure.
And there it was.
Haven Hospital.
The building stood quietly across the street, its presence unmistakable despite the lack of signage. It bore flashy nameplate or advertisement of its purpose—just a tall, pristine façade of steel and white marble, blending seamlessly into the rest of the Higher Sector's skyline.
But IAM knew better.
To the public, it was just another government facility. To those who mattered—it was something else entirely.
A fortress of healing.
It wasn't the largest hospital in the country of Hope, not by a long shot. But in terms of quality, security, and secrecy, Haven stood in a league of its own.
Every doctor on rotation—thirty in total—was an Ascender, a powerhouse who had surpassed the limits of normal medicine and strength. Even the seventy nurses weren't just staff. They had passed not only advanced medical exams, but grueling physical and psychological evaluations. Many of them were combat-trained and experienced Ascenders in their own right.
Its defense system was one of the most elaborate in the entire country. Forty guards patrolled the interior and exterior at all times, most hidden, some visible—a quiet deterrent. Thirty-six of them were experienced Ascenders. The remaining four were Masters.
From rooftop, ascenders were positioned across neighboring buildings, to hidden sentry stations within Haven itself, no one entered or left without clearance. Over the course of its sixty-year history, Haven had endured assassination attempts, terror raids, and internal espionage. Not once had an important figure died within its walls. That was the reputation Haven Hospital held.
IAM remembered all of this—not because he looked it up, but because Maye had told him. Or rather, proudly exposited it to him during his stay.
And she had done so with a smile.
The café he stood before was called Hojo. A modest name, easy to forget—but nothing in the Higher Sector was ever truly modest.
IAM glanced once more across the street. Knowing Thor had chosen a café directly across from Haven Hospital made something stir in IAM's gut.
Thor didn't seem like the type to choose places without reason—especially not one that faced Haven directly.
It couldn't be coincidence. There had to be a purpose behind it, one IAM hadn't yet grasped.
He turned back toward the café and pushed open the glass door.
A small brass bell chimed above his head.
The air inside was warmer than expected, tinged with the comforting aroma of roasted beans, baked sugar, and the faint spice of cinnamon. Soft jazz played in the background.
The café was clean, well-kept—half full with customers who looked like they belonged in the Higher Sector, sipping coffee in porcelain mugs while typing away on sleek tablets or reading physical books that probably cost a small fortune.
The gentle hum of conversation floated in the air, blending with the soft clink of cutlery and ceramic cups.
The soft whir of espresso machines also hummed in the background.
IAM's sneakers sank slightly into the thick, dark carpeting as he stepped further inside. Potted plants hung from the ceiling in macrame holders, and the furniture was a mix of wood and matte black steel. Even the lighting—dim and warm—seemed carefully chosen to make you forget time.
IAM was approached by a staff member near the entrance, a young woman holding a menu and smiling in that trained, customer-service kind of way. He offered her a polite wave and a quick nod, silently dismissing her. He wasn't ready to be seated—not yet. First, he had to find Thor.
IAM's eyes scanned the room.
There—toward the back, in a corner booth with high walls on either side, partially concealed by a draping fern.
Thor.
And he wasn't alone.
A stranger sat across from him.