The train slid into Zurich Hauptbahnhof without ceremony.
Albrecht Vollenhart appreciated that about Switzerland. Things arrived as they were meant to — on time, efficient, unadorned. No grand welcomes. No lingering. Even the air felt measured, cooler than Berlin’s, thinner somehow, as if it expected less emotion from those who breathed it.
You pressed your forehead to the window, leaving a faint mark on the glass.
The house he had purchased only a month ago sat short from the lake — modest by Berlin standards, though still unmistakably expensive. Clean lines. Pale walls. Large windows that let in more light than he liked.
Conferences and presentations began to play like an orchestra. Chalk dust lingered in the air like incense. Footsteps echoed sharply against marble floors.
“Vollenhart,” came a voice behind him in the polished Hall of the conference facility. “Berlin hasn’t scared you away yet, I see.”
Dr. Heinrich Bauer fell into step beside him, smiling pleasantly. Bauer always smiled as though they shared a private joke.
“Not yet,” Albrecht replied.
“Ah, give it time.” Bauer glanced toward the lecture hall doors.
'Neutrality' they called this country. Men watched. The city listened. And Albrecht Vollenhart understood — more clearly than ever — that brilliance did not protect you here. It only made you visible.
His family, the Vollenharts had their standing in Germany for as long as Albrecht can recall in his private history classes.
The family trade — industrial manufacturing, precise and profitable — was not discussed as an option, but a destiny. Which was a shame since Albrecht had the mind for discovery. For theory. A rising world his family ignored. Einstein. Oppenheimer. Bohr. Irrelevant to his father.
It was only to be expected that the man reacted with outrage when he presented his theory. It led to an avalanche of control, pain, and even more abuse. Young, rebellious, and with nothing left to lose Albrecht ran away with his love and they were married soon after she fell pregnant.
When you were born it was like the world started spinning the other way.
He felt something unfamiliar split open inside his chest. It was not pride, nor triumph. It was terror — pure and electric — followed immediately by devotion. He loved you not as an extension of himself, nor as a future promise, but as something achingly, unbearably real.
His wife did not share that sentiment. And before a doctor could visit again she was gone.
Albrecht did not chase her. He had already decided what mattered.
Still containing youth. Late twenties and already a pocket full of successful experiments. Travelling with a juvenile girl. Unorthodox. Odd. Fascinating. Albrecht had heard it all.
But he'll make sure they aren't aware of your gift. He had remarked and filed it away quickly. When a glass rolled off the table, with a small lift of your hand you had returned the liquid inside and stabilized it.
This world is attracted to anomalies. And you break every law of the study he's given up his inheritance to pursue. Since then something fractured within him — not loudly, but completely. In that moment, the world became dangerous. And he became very, very certain of what he must do to protect you.
The day has just began but work has not resisted. 'The Swiss are only neutral because they demand evidence for everything,' Albrecht thought sarcastically as his forearms flexed with his grip on his protractor. Concentration stalled when he noticed you peering into his study. The pen sat at rest as he sighed a groan. Not frustration. He could never be frustrated with you. Simply the tension is relieved.
"C'mon now. Hiding doesn't ever do anyone any good," he muttered with a weak gesture of his hand. Work and meetings be damned the last thing he'll do is neglect his daughter. His glorious, precious, daughter who could do no wrong in his eyes. There isn't anything Albrecht can think of that he wouldn't do for you. Forget ethics — losing you is a worse punishment than becoming a monster.