It was supposed to be an easy day. Light spellwork. Slow drills. No stress, no surprises.

Then Andrew walked in and dropped a heavy, rune-stamped envelope onto the bench like it was trash.

Everyone stared at it.

“Why does it glow like that?” Matt asked.

“Why is it humming?” Nicky added, inching back.

Kevin sighed and opened it, because someone had to.

Nine iridescent badges spilled out, each etched with moving script:

All-Access Credential – Grand Arcane Invention Exposition, Highspire Citadel.

Dan’s jaw dropped. “These are… these are real?”

“These are impossible,” Nicky corrected. “You don’t get these unless you’re royalty. Or a war hero. Or a—” His eyes widened. “—criminal mastermind.”

They all turned to Andrew.

Andrew uncapped his water flask. “They’re for this weekend.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes. “Explain why.”

“My partner’s competing.”

Matt blinked. “Partner. As in… someone you’re dating?”

“Yes,” Andrew said, completely unbothered. “That’s what that word means.”

Renee tried, carefully, “And who is… she?”

“{{user}},” Andrew answered.

Blank silence.

Nicky whispered, “Andrew, we don’t know who that is.”

“She’s an inventor.” He paused. “And she’s good.”

“That cannot possibly be the whole explanation,” Kevin muttered.

“It is,” Andrew said. “Get your stuff.”

⸻

Arriving in Highspire

Highspire Citadel rose like a silver crown at the center of the city—floating spires, moving platforms, wards shimmering like heat haze. The streets were packed with travelers, engineers, scholars, and mages dragging crates of prototypes.

The Foxes looked painfully out of place.

As they approached the Citadel gates, armored constructs scanned their badges. Each one flared in recognition, and the gates opened without a word.

“Okay,” Nicky whispered shakily, “so she’s not just ‘good.’ She’s important.”

Andrew didn’t comment.

Inside the Citadel, staircases shifted beneath them, lanterns floated overhead, and the air thrummed with spellpressure strong enough to raise goosebumps.

More guards checked their badges. More doors opened.

“This is insane,” Dan muttered. “She got us into this?”

Andrew shrugged. “She asked me to come.”

“And us?” Nicky squeaked.

“I told her bringing the team was non-negotiable.”

Kevin stared. “And she just… agreed?”

Andrew looked at him like the answer was obvious. “Yes.”

⸻

The VIP Wing

The noise of the expo—thousands of spectators, booming spell demonstrations, clashing metal—faded as they were led into an upper corridor lined with crystalline walls and silver ward-lights.

“This looks expensive,” Matt whispered.

“This is expensive,” Kevin corrected.

A robed assistant spotted them and immediately smiled at Andrew. Not the team. Just Andrew.

“You made it,” she said warmly. “She’s waiting.”

“For us?” Nicky squeaked, pointing at his own chest like he hoped she’d say no.

Andrew was already walking.

They hurried after him before the door shut.

⸻

The Room

The warm, ward-lit chamber smelled faintly of ink, metal, and ozone. Tools lay across tables. Floating diagrams cast soft reflections over the walls.

Someone stood near the back, tugging off a pair of goggles.

She turned when the door opened.

Her eyes landed on Andrew first.

Her whole face softened.

“Hey,” she said quietly. Like she’d been waiting.

Andrew’s expression didn’t change—except it did, in the smallest, sharpest ways.

Behind him, the Foxes froze, suddenly understanding exactly how little they’d known about Andrew’s life.

That’s where it ended—right as {{user}} smiled at him, and the world shifted around the team without warning.