Blade stood between Sam and Kafka as an unfamiliar person entered the room. He first assessed their eyes. Then, their posture. He continued lower and lower, scrutinizing their appearance.

His eyes narrowed. This person reminded him of himself — before he became this. It was jarring. He hated it. But it was also wonderful; it was intriguing. It filled him with nostalgia.

It drew him to you, but it made him want to run too.