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He stood, already moving. ‘Sante.’

‘De nada, and thank you for the amusing interlude.’

Despite the lilt in her tone, he sensed Mirage’s annoyance at being bested by Issa.

The AI would not rest, and his lips quirked at the thought of her facing her first true challenge.

He stalked into an elevator, and it ascended, opening onto the sprawling rooftop of Sable HQ.

The terrace was a sanctuary for the Riders, a blend of dining and relaxation zones, high-tech fitness sections, an open-air martial dojo, and a tactical retreat.

A serene garden flanked one side, its greenery thriving under programmed weather controls.

On the other sat a combat area, where the Riders honed their bodies into precision instruments.

Kainan ruled at the center of it all.

The man was a monolith of muscle and power, his skin a rich, burnished bronze in the overhead glow of artificial lights.

In dark-colored sports shorts, he was statuesque.

His long mane of black locks whipped around his broad shoulders.

His tanned surface, from the thick neck to his upper arms and hands, was covered by gold and sapphire nebula tattoos.

The same iridescent jewel, aureate, and silver hues flashed on his beard, squared jaw, and full mustache. His forehead was a wall unto itself, ebony brows heavy and unyielding behind which operated a brilliant mind and keen strategic prowess.

Ki’Remi had served with this man through countless missions and wars.

Over the years, he’d grown to cherish and respect Kainan Sable as a dear friend, a formidable meta, and a freakin’ ruthless leader.

He was currently bench-pressing a ridiculous amount of mass, his bare torso slick with sweat, every inch of him carved from relentless discipline.

Ki’Remi approached as Kainan racked the weight and sat up, grabbing a towel.

‘Brother, you look like you’re set to murder souls,’ Kainan mused, rubbing the cloth over his face before tossing it aside.

Ki’Remi crossed his arms. ‘Something like that.’

Kainan grabbed his water flask, chugging hard. ‘Mirage pissing you off?’

‘Always.’

Kainan chuckled. ‘Tell me what’s got you pacing like a caged beast.’

Ki’Remi exhaled, stroking the tension out of his jaw ahead of laying it out: the attack on Alloria, the astral warriors, the sheer impossibility of what he’d seen.

Kainan listened, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, his expression fading into deep contemplation.

When Ki’Remi finished, Kainan raised his chin and met his gaze with a shrug and chin jerk.

‘You’re not surprised,’ Ki’Remi concluded.

‘I am not. For a while, Pegasi Military investigators and MIST, the intergalactic Meta Intelligence Service Task Force, have conducted covert surveillance on supernatural and celestial entities, individuals, and activity across the galaxy. We’ve noted increased incursions from dimensions and realities far removed from our own. Given our defense and judicial security, this galaxy is now considered a safe zone. So we’re getting a flood of refugees, runaways, and existentialist beings flooding in here from whatever dimensions, hellholes, and heavens they exist in that are under peril.’

Ki’Remi frowned. ‘Thefokk?’

‘It’s been happening for years now.’ Kainan’s voice was level. ‘Gods, spirits, and supernatural juju walk among us,kaka. The difference is we’re starting to see an uptick in their sorties. The question is why.’