A plan did not form as Magnus crossed the distance toward the nervous technician.
The earlier Affective Discernment read had painted a picture: the guy wasn't someone cruel or enjoying what he was doing. Just someone who'd made bad decisions under pressure and hadn't been able to find a way out since.
That meant… very little. Because Magnus had absolutely no idea what to do with that.
Asking Alex to trust him and let him talk to the guy first had felt right at the time. And it still felt like the right thing to do now. But that didn't actually give him any clue what to say or do right this instant. Anything he said could either help or worsen the situation. And if he failed? Then General James Hale was going to call a military lockdown on the entire venue, which would definitely throw a wrench into the whole Jordan situation.
And because he was panicking, he came in too fast. The technician looked up at the sound of footsteps and immediately tensed in the specific way people did when they thought authority was about to come crashing down on them.
And while Magnus himself probably wasn't that intimidating, the six-foot military general standing forty feet away and visibly monitoring the entire situation definitely was.
"Uh," Magnus began intelligently.
The technician flinched slightly while trying to shove something back into his pocket too quickly. A wallet slipped free from his hand, hit the concrete awkwardly, and split open. A small photo slid across the floor toward a rolling equipment cart. Magnus reacted automatically, catching it before it disappeared underneath.
"A-ah, sorry," the technician said quickly, voice strained. "I—"
"It's okay," Magnus said.
He handed the wallet back first, then glanced at the photo still in his other hand before returning it too.
A kid. Maybe seven or eight years old. Something unpleasant tightened in Magnus's chest.
"Your son?" he asked.
The technician hesitated before nodding once. "Yeah."
For a split second, a tired sort of pride crossed the man's face. Then it vanished beneath something heavier.
Magnus only had two charges of Affective Discernment left. Three were on cooldown, with the closest recharge still at least twenty minutes away. So, wasting charges casually was definitely not a good idea.
Still… something about the way the man had looked at that picture made Magnus risk another read anyway.
The feedback hit instantly.
Guilt. Reluctance. Desperation.
Almost the exact same read as before. Except this time the emotions felt overcharged, stretched painfully tight around something underneath them — fear and fierce protectiveness tangled together so intensely that Magnus's stomach dropped before his brain fully caught up.
And suddenly the photo in the man's hand felt a lot more important.
The technician shoved the wallet back into his pocket too quickly again, like he regretted letting anyone see inside it at all.
"Cute kid," Magnus offered awkwardly.
"…Thanks."
Silence settled between them.
Magnus could almost feel it happening internally — end conversation, walk away, avoid attention, avoid suspicion — and without consciously deciding to, he let Aura Weave slip quietly into his voice.
"You okay?" Magnus asked carefully. "You look kinda stressed."
The technician let out a short laugh. Not amused. Just exhausted.
"No," he admitted automatically.
Then he stiffened afterward, like he hadn't meant to answer honestly at all.
And suddenly the guy felt less like a saboteur and more like someone waiting for their life to collapse.
Magnus hesitated.
This was probably a terrible idea!
"You wanna talk about it?" he asked awkwardly. "Sometimes it's easier talking to someone you don't know."
The technician blinked at him. Magnus immediately wanted to fling himself into the nearest wall.
What kind of line even was that?
But the man did not leave.
"…You don't even know me," he said after a moment.
"Yeah, but that might help."
Another silence.
Magnus's brain was screaming at him that he was rambling again. But somehow words kept coming out of his mouth anyway.
"Eight's a rough age."
The technician frowned slightly. "…What?"
"Kids notice stuff at that age," Magnus said, shrugging lightly. "Like… when adults are stressed. They don't always understand it, but they notice."
The man froze slightly — not visibly enough that most people would catch it. Magnus subconsciously picked it up anyway.
"You don't seem old enough to have a kid that old," the technician said after a second, almost like he needed to redirect the conversation somewhere safer. "You got younger siblings or something?"
"Nah. Only child." Magnus rubbed the back of his neck. "But there were a lot of kids around my neighborhood growing up. And my mom loved telling stories about how much of a disaster I was at that age."
That got the faintest hint of amusement out of the technician. "Yeah?"
"Oh, absolutely. Apparently, I once tried to fight a goose because it stole bread from another kid."
The technician blinked.
"In my defense," Magnus added seriously, "the goose started it."
A startled laugh escaped the man before he could stop it. And because Magnus had absolutely no idea what he was doing anymore, he just kept going.
"My mom used to say kids remember weird things," he said. "Not speeches or lectures. Just… little stuff."
The technician's expression shifted again.
"Like whether people showed up," Magnus continued. "Or whether they felt safe around somebody. Stuff like that."
He shrugged lightly. "She said parents screw up all the time anyway, so apparently the important part is whether kids remember that you kept trying."
The technician went very still. Magnus immediately had the horrible sensation that he'd accidentally stepped into something deeply personal without meaning to. The man looked away hard enough that Magnus instantly wanted to retract the entire conversation. Instead, he said — because apparently panic made him incapable of shutting up:
"My mom also threw a sandal at me once because I climbed onto a roof trying to catch a kite, so I don't think she was aiming for perfect parenting philosophy or anything."
That should not have made the technician's eyes water. But it did.
Magnus panicked immediately.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, not even realizing he'd laced Aura Weave into his voice again.
The technician rubbed a hand over his face. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then, very quietly:
"…They said nobody had to get hurt."
***
A short distance away, Alex had been trying very hard to keep James Hale focused on system records instead of Magnus.
Unfortunately, her Uncle James possessed the observational instincts of someone professionally trained to notice problems before they became disasters. Which meant Magnus talking privately with a visibly nervous technician had not escaped his attention for even a second.
"Is the man your boyfriend is speaking to a suspect?" James asked suddenly.
Alex stiffened. "How did you—"
"—know he's your boyfriend?" James finished calmly. "I didn't at first. Reading emotions had always been more your father's strength than mine."
A pause.
"But Ranger School teaches pattern recognition. It clicked when he asked to speak with you privately earlier."
Alex stared at him. James continued watching Magnus while speaking.
"Now answer the question."
Alex hesitated. "…Yes."
James was quiet for a moment after that.
"Do you trust him?"
Alex knew immediately who he meant. And annoyingly enough, the answer was harder than it should have been.
Not because she doubted Magnus's intentions. Because trusting Magnus lately had started meaning trusting instincts that did not always make logical sense until afterward.
Still…
"…Right now," she admitted slowly, "I do."
James exhaled once through his nose.
"Tell your boyfriend he has another five minutes before I step in," he said. "That's the most I can give you two."
Alex immediately pulled out her phone.
***
The technician was already halfway through the story before Magnus even registered the vibration from his phone.
It was the kind of story people heard all the time. Which honestly might have been the worst part. A widowed father, with a sick child. Hospital bills piling up faster than he could keep up with them. Then someone called offering enough money to make desperation start sounding reasonable.
The technician laughed weakly, but there was nothing humorous in it.
"And when I hesitated," he said quietly, "they made it very clear they knew where my son went to school."
Something cold settled heavily in Magnus's stomach. Not because the story was shocking. Quite the opposite. Because somewhere along the way, stories like this had apparently become common enough that people stopped being surprised by them.
The technician dragged both hands down his face slowly. "I didn't mean for it to become this bad."
And Magnus believed him instantly. His phone buzzed again. He glanced down.
Alex: He's caught on.
Alex: You have 5 minutes before he steps in.
Panic immediately returned in full force. Magnus glanced toward James before he could help himself. The technician followed his gaze.
And at the end of their line of sight stood an extremely dangerous military officer who looked like he was currently deciding whether violence counted as an acceptable workplace management strategy.
The technician flinched hard. Magnus panicked even harder.
"You think he's gonna ruin your life," he said before thinking.
The man didn't answer. Which was answer enough.
Magnus hesitated. This part felt important somehow. Dangerously so.
"I don't think he actually cares about you," Magnus said.
The technician stared at him. Magnus immediately realized how terrible that sounded.
"No, wait, I mean… I didn't mean it like that—" He gestured vaguely toward James. "You're not the person he's after."
The technician's shoulders tightened slightly. Magnus pressed forward carefully.
"He's here because someone messed with his daughter's competition," he said quietly. "That's all he's seeing right now."
Something in the man's posture shifted. And Magnus somehow knew he was finally getting close to the actual center of the problem.
"You know," Magnus said slowly, "I never had a dad around growing up."
That got the technician's full attention immediately.
"But honestly?" Magnus shrugged lightly. "Fathers who'd do anything for their kids are kinda respectable."
The technician looked away sharply.
"Even when they panic," Magnus continued quietly. "Even when they make bad decisions because they're scared."
Silence.
One that felt dangerously close to a confession. So, Magnus kept going before he could lose momentum.
"My mom always said everybody screws up," he said. "Parents probably more than most people."
A weak huff of breath escaped the technician.
"But what matters is what we do after realizing we messed up," Magnus continued quietly. "Because that's what the people who matter to us remember."
He hesitated briefly before adding, "She used to say the world might condemn you for your mistakes. But the people closest to you? The ones who really matter? They'll care more about what you do after realizing them."
He glanced toward James briefly.
"And that guy?" Magnus admitted. "Yeah, he scares me too."
That almost got another laugh. It didn't.
"But he's also a father. A father who'd do anything to protect his kid. Not that much different from you."
The technician looked toward James again despite himself.
"And whoever threatened your son?" Magnus said quietly. "I honestly think they should be way more afraid of him than you are."
The man stared at him.
Magnus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Because I genuinely think that guy would burn this entire city down before letting somebody use a child against their parent."
Silence stretched between them. Magnus could practically feel James's deadline ticking in the back of his skull.
Then finally:
"…If I tell him everything," the technician whispered, "can you make sure my son doesn't get dragged into this?"
"Yes," Magnus answered immediately. Then, after glancing toward the approaching general — who had very clearly run out of patience — he added, "Actually… he probably can too!"