As far as story beginnings go, starting with some characters boarding a train is usually a surefire way to bore the reader. Trains aren’t interesting. Neither is standing on one whilst gently jostling against the strangers around you. The reader, completely lacking context for why the train is necessary, might rapidly come to the conclusion that the train is a rather ham-fisted metaphor for the story itself, both in the telling of character’s travel through a portion of their life, and the relative level of ‘entertainment'' to be expected as the story progresses.
Nevertheless, Nathaniel Lione boarded the train surely expecting the start to one such tale of mundanity. He was, after all, boarding with his parents who were essentially dropping him off to begin college. His entire life up to this point could have been summarized by such mundane stories. After all, the world only ends once. After that, it’s mostly back to work, interrupted by an occasional grocery shopping errand in one of the few holdouts for humanity left on earth.
As the train lurched on the tracks yet again, jostling Nathaniel into sweaty stranger number 6, he inwardly sighed. The windows on the train, when he caught glimpses of them through the throngs of people, showed devastated terrain. Black ash still fell from the sky as if God one day decided to just color invert snow on a whim. In the rare holes not covered by gray and black clouds, a crimson sky peeked through, casting a blood-red light on the landscape.
Nate’s lavender eyes glanced upward toward a half-torn poster on the train, just high enough to see above the crowd. Bastion’s heroic countenance adorned the poster, or at least what was left of it. Bold letters under the half-profile read ‘When the world is (the tear cut off the rest before going to the next line) Be (again, the tear in the poster cut out the rest of the phrase)’. Not that Nate needed to read the whole phrase to be familiar enough to fill in the blanks. Bastion stood as one of humanity’s brightest beacons of hope. The Hero that never quits. An unassailable walking fortress of a man who has single-handedly cleared more Gates than the bottom half of all the Guilds put together. And his favorite catch-phrase: ‘When the world is darkest, be ever brighter’.
Sweaty stranger number 3 caught Nate’s gaze up to the Hero’s poster and made a show of pointing at it to reference. “The NGA thinks we might have a good chance to finally claim some land back. Mostly thanks to him. You off to Gate U?”
Nate never broke his gaze from the tattered piece of paper, simply nodding in assent. “First year.”
The stranger grunted. “Couple more Heroes of the next generation turn out like him, we might even get to rebuild a city. I’m hoping for New York.”
“Manhattan’s overrun,” Nate shook his head. “Three Tier V Gate breaks. Stepping foot onto that island would be suicide. Even for Bastion.”
The man shrugged. “If he had all of Lighthouse backing him up, he could do it.”
Nate heard his father laugh aloud behind him at that. “Right. And what happens to the rest of us while the number one Hero and his Guild leave the frontlines to take back a tiny island? We become demon chow. That’s what happens.”
The train lurched over the tracks again, this time sending Nate stumbling backward into his father. Like Peter Lione, Nathaniel had inherited his wide frame, tanned skin, and just-over-six-foot height. Unlike Peter, Nathaniel had inherited none of his father’s Traits that would put his size to good use. His dad was a Vanguard II. The man could toss a train wheel like a frisbee. Nathaniel, on the other hand, inherited both his eye color and Trait from his mother, Nancy. Where Peter was a large and bulky brute, Nancy was a slender and feminine Reader III. Not of the useful mind variety, of course. Though her Trait combined with her keen insight often kept Nate wondering if she could in fact read minds. Officially though, she Reads objects. Histories, uses, significance. Great for solving crimes, less so for killing hordes of demons.
Nancy gave her husband a look. “You don’t need to try and scare every stranger you come across, you know.”
Peter flashed a grin. “What’s the point of all this muscle if I can’t bully the occasional stranger every now and then?”
Nancy rolled her lilac eyes and tried not to chuckle at her husband’s sense of humor. “You know the Bureau originally assigned you as my partner to stop fights from breaking out around me, right?”
“Hmm,” Peter playfully tapped his chin. “The way I see it, violence is better prevented than responded to.”
“Oh right, you weren’t picking all those fights, you were just stopping them from ever happening,” she teased.
Nate did his best to turn his attention away from his parents and their flirting when another lurch of the train sent him yet again stumbling backwards. Normally, he would have been caught by his dad. Peter, however, had turned his very wide and muscular frame to face his wife, causing Nate to stumble backwards into empty air instead of solid father. As he picked himself up off the floor, Peter gave an apologetic look. “You could just grab the overhead rail like everyone else,” he offered.
“Ew,” both he and his mother immediately cringed at the thought of what kind of history their Reader Traits might make known.
“It can’t be that bad,” Peter chuckled.
Nancy forced a smile. “It’s public transport, dear. If I told you half of what that poor handrail has seen, you wouldn’t want to wash that hand off- you’d want to burn it off.”
Peter gave the handrail a tentative second glance, unsure if he should continue touching the questionable surface. Finally, he decided to spit in his hand before grabbing the rail firmly again. “There,” he nodded in apparent approval of his own actions.
“That’s disgusting,” Nancy gawked.
“Yes, but now it’s my disgusting,” Peter countered. “I can deal with that.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Anyway. Nate,” his dad beamed brightly at Nathaniel, “Gate University. Off to learn to be a Hero.”
“Not that I had a choice,” Nate shrugged.
“Humanity doesn’t have the luxury of sitting on our laurels,” his mother chimed in. “If you can be of help-”
“-then it’s our duty to help,” Nate finished with a nod. “I know. I understand, too. It’s a good opportunity for me, even if I fail out of the Hero program like you guys did.”
“Technically, it’s not failing out,” his mother corrected. “So don’t think of it that way. They’re looking for the best of the best to continue through those Hero courses. Gates are deadly affairs, even before they break open. If you can’t survive a Gate, then you’re just better suited to a different career path.”
Nate looked to his dad, who chuckled. “Oh, don’t look at me, I’m a Vanguard. I legitimately failed out of the coursework. Not that I regret it for a single moment,” he added, smiling wanly at Nancy.
“Yes, and the world is a happier place because of it,” she tried and immediately failed to stop herself from grinning. “My point is: do your best and make your time there something you can be proud of no matter what the future holds for you.”
“It’s just… a lot of pressure,” Nate sighed. “And even as a Support class, Reading isn’t all that useful for Gate delving.”
“You have a good shot at scouting,” his mom smiled up at him. “I think if I tried that pathway instead of item appraisal, I might have gone further as a Hero.”
“There’s a lot of item appraisal branch-off jobs civilian side though. If I try to make it as a scout and still fail… what then? Will I be shoed into some sort of city patrol job for the rest of my life?”
Peter laid a hand on Nate’s shoulder (thankfully not the one he had just spat into). “If you see your future leading you down a bad path, just build a new road forward. You’re a smart guy. Go for what you want to go for, and I’m sure you can make it work out. Somehow.”
It wasn’t exactly the direct guidance he’d been hoping for from his parents, but upon reflection, Nate inwardly admitted that had his parents told him exactly what to do, he’d probably label them as too controlling and disregard their advice anyway. Being on the blooming cusp of adulthood kind of sucked in a lot of ways. He took in a deep breath, and let it go. Build a new road. How do you even do that?
“You, uhh, dropped this,” a man held Nate’s wallet out as if he were returning a used snot rag, wearing a matching facial expression. His eyes darted back to Peter several times, his face deepening with disgust after every glance.
“Thanks,” Nate frowned, taking his wallet back much to the stranger’s apparent relief. Nate gave his distracted father a questioning look before turning back to the man. “Did you two know each other or something?”
“Him? You’re his son, right?”
“Yeah,” Nate shrugged. “What of it?”
“I don’t suppose you also spit on things to claim them as yours?” the stranger grimaced.
“Wha- oh. Uh, no. I guess I take more after my mom,” Nathaniel forced a laugh, hoping to ease the stranger’s nerves. It didn’t work. Maybe small talk would better alleviate the awkwardness. “So… bank teller?”
The stranger narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and while markedly better than utter repulsion, being on the receiving end of either look gave Nate the impression he should end the conversation sooner rather than later. “Should I… know you?”
“Not… particularly? I’m a Reader. You touched my wallet, so I got some impressions of someone who frequently handles money, but is more bored than overjoyed. Then came the secondary layers of someone with fiscal knowledge and who holds themselves with a small amount of authority.”
“You’re a Reader?” the man stared blankly at Nate before looking him up and down. “You’re built like a brick.”
“Dad’s a Vanguard,” Nate forced a quick polite smile, directing the stranger’s attention to Peter once more.
“Oh, is this who all this fuss has been about?” a woman pushed her way through the crowd and into the conversation, dragging along a young woman who must have been her daughter. While the mother was all pleasantry and smiles, her daughter was looking at Nate as if she were a deer about to be run over.
“No sort of fuss here, Skye. The young man dropped his wallet when he fell. I was simply returning it,” the stranger answered his wife completely nonplussed. “I surmise he’s a first-year Reader. Likely not to complete the Hero program.”
Skye swatted her husband’s arm with a scolding exclamation of, “Harold! Be nice.”
“I am being nice, Skye,” Harold spoke matter-of-factly as he adjusted the thin pair of glasses on his nose. “There’s nothing wrong or shameful with dropping out of the Hero program. This young man should be forearmed with an alternative plan.”
Their daughter continued to stare silently at Nate as if he were slowly approaching her with a brandished knife in a dark back alley.
Skye sighed and gave Nate a long-suffering smile. “Don’t pay my Harold any mind. He means well. Our Jenna here,” she pointed to their daughter, still unblinkingly staring at Nate, though the fear-sweat beginning to bead on her forehead was new, “is the first in our family with an actual Trait. It’s probably not going to cut it for the Hero program at Gate U, so Harold has been drilling her with viable alternative options and how to pursue a career path.”
“Oh, and who is this?” Nate’s mom cut off from Peter and came over. “I’m Nancy Lione, pleasure to meet you.” She shook both of the parents’ hands with a smile. “Oh, a bank teller and hotel manager. Sorry, I’m a Reader. Bad habit. Anyway, you seem to have already met my son Nathaniel, so that leaves-”
“The expectorator,” Harold answered flatly.
Nancy’s smile flattened in an instant. “My husband, Peter. He has… an odd sense of humor. Not everybody gets him.”
“I have a hunch that sometimes you get him even less than everyone else,” Skye smiled teasingly.
“Yes, well, comes with the territory of spending so much time around someone,” Nancy smiled back. “So who’s your daughter?”
Skye finally turned her attention to the girl staring at Nate as if he were about to pluck out her eyeballs one at a time so he could make her watch as he squeezed the juices into his mouth and grabbed her daughter’s attention with an elbow jab to the arm. “Jenna, say hello at least.”
Apparently, it was somehow possible for Jenna’s eyes to widen even further, as they did so. She let out a squeak and took a step backward.
Nate rubbed the back of his head, trying to think of something, anything, that might make the situation less horrifyingly awkward. Just then, the train once again lurched on the tracks. Nate stumbled forward, this time crashing into someone much softer and far less sturdy than his father. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Nate trying to turn to take the brunt of the fall and Jenna fighting to disentangle herself the whole way down. In the end the small girl completely knocked the wind out of him by landing on his diaphragm- elbow first. Nate wheezed in pain, desperately trying with every ounce of will he could muster to keep the groan and reflexive tears from escaping.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Jenna rolled off and sprung to her feet like a cat before bolting away. Or, she would have bolted away had she not been on a fairly crowded train. Instead, she bolted into the back of sweaty stranger number 3, who Nate had classified as the most unpleasant of all 6 sweaty strangers to jostle into as number 3 had a particularly pungent odor accompanying his sweat, before she careened downward to the ground again. While most others would find this situation more comedic had Jenna once more landed on Nate who was still laid out on the ground, Nate found himself unendingly grateful that she managed to fall elsewhere this time around.
“Well,” Skye blinked in disbelief at the situation that played out before her, “how’s that for an introduction?”
Jenna shot her mother a withering glare as she stood up from apparently having fallen on her tailbone. Reflexive tears welled in her eyes as she tried to keep her hand away from rubbing the aforementioned area of injury.
“Would you just hold onto the damn rails already,” Peter shook his head at his son in dismay. “You’re embarrassing yourself at this point.”
“Thanks Dad,” Nate managed to wheeze out, sticking a thumbs up in the air. His lungs wanted to cough, but there wasn’t a breath of air left in them.
Nancy chuckled and shook her head. “Well if you two happen to bump into each other again at college, try to make it somewhat less dramatic?”
Little gasps of air slowly began to fill Nate’s lungs again as his body started remembering how to breathe.
“Typical Lione. Falling all over himself for a girl he just met,” Peter gave Nancy a wink and sly grin.
Nancy returned an appalled look, her eyebrows arched higher than Nate had thought possible. “Hopefully a habit that has since ceased to exist.”
“That goes without saying,” Peter chuckled easily. “Though-”
“Don’t say it,” Nancy cut across him. “Don’t you dare-.”
“Lions do have their Pride,” Peter waggled his eyebrows at his wife.
She answered by laughing and playfully beating her fists against his arms and chest with exclamations of ‘ew’ and ‘you’re disgusting’.
“You’re both being gross,” came Nate’s voice weakly from the floor.
“Hmm,” Harold adjusted his glasses once again. “Well it was… certainly something meeting you lot. Perhaps we should take our leave before more catastrophe strikes.” He gathered his family and herded them away.
“Too much?” Nancy gave her husband a guilty grin.
“Catastrophe,” Peter mimed pushing glasses up his nose as he threw his voice to mock Harold’s, “or far worse: public displays of affection.”
Nancy clicked her tongue and swatted at her husband. “Don’t be rude.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” Nate finally managed to cough air back into his lungs. His chest ached.
“Our son doesn’t make the best first impressions with women, does he?” Peter turned to his wife.
“He’ll never get a girlfriend if he keeps this up,” his mother answered quickly.
“I’d swear sometimes he acts as if he’s never even seen another girl, let alone talked to one.”
“And all those ballroom dance lessons we put him through haven''t appeared to help his coordination in the slightest,” Nancy nodded.
“I’m right here,” Nate hacked and coughed. “Could you not talk about me like I’m a complete embarrassment?”
“Well do you want us to worry over you or not?” his mother cracked across him sharply, a teasing grin fitting easily across her features.
Nate frowned at his parents as he thought of a reply. “I can’t win here, can I?”
“No points for grace and decorum today, so… no. I really don’t think you can,” Peter chuckled at his son.
“I’m just grateful that as bad as I was, you guys were even more embarrassing. Hopefully we’ll just forget each other’s faces and move on. Lots of people attend Gate U. Pretty good odds of not seeing her any time soon.”
“That’s sad,” his mother mused airily. “She was kinda cute. And to think you put all that effort into your introduction just to waste it like this.”
Nate gave a long-suffering sigh. “I think I’ll excuse myself too.” Slowly, he stood himself upright again, fully trusting neither his core muscles for support nor the train to stay steady. After he got his feet under himself once again, he slowly pushed his way toward a new train compartment. Hopefully, Jenna and her family had fled toward the other end of the train. He pushed through the doors separating compartments and kept moving. He needed space to sort out what just happened. Normally being in the midst of a packed crowd didn’t exactly help with the whole ‘alone’ concept, but Nate frequently found himself feeling isolated in large groups of people. He could make due with being away from anyone he knew.
His mind attacked his memories head-on, confronting him with the utter shame of embarrassment. He took a breath. I messed up, but it doesn’t mean I’m a failure. Air escaped his mouth with a barely audible whisper. I don’t know them, they don’t know me. I’m only human. Mistakes are okay. The knot in his chest loosened slightly as he confronted his emotions. His hand reflexively rubbed at his still-sore diaphragm. My past can only hurt me as much as I let it. He grimaced as his fingers pressed into the soreness. And bruises. Bruises hurt too. Again, he broke out into reflexive coughing causing the people around him to take a tentative step away from him.
“Listen, we’re here to help you,” a male voice came from somewhere back further in the new train car. His voice projected over the relative silence of the crowd, easily overheard by anyone nearby. “I’m telling you, you can pay me 500 credits for a stairwell pass now, or get to Gate U and pay the full 1000. Last year, I didn’t believe the Gate U Sophomore’s either. Had to pay the full price out of pocket. I truly wish I had paid the guys on the train.”
“You can take your stair pass and shove it,” a resolute voice responded.
“Ha,” came the first voice jovially. “Do you see this yellow armband? Do you know what that means? No, of course not. How could you? You haven’t even spent a full day at University yet. I’ll let you in on a little secret. These yellow armbands mean I’m what’s called ‘elite’ in status. My potential for my Traits are tier IV or higher. That means a lot to Gate U. They’re training me to be a leader. And a powerhouse. I’m nearly guaranteed to make it through the full Hero course. So how about you just hand over 500 credits and I’ll forget your little insult, yeah?”
Nate’s feet took him toward where the voices were coming from. A ring of toughs circled a short young man with bright green eyes and light brown hair. The other speaker was also easy to identify as the previously mentioned yellow armband adorned only one sleeve. This guy was a monster of a human, taller than even Nate and looked like he could thrash Peter in an arm-wrestling competition.
“I don’t give a damn who you are or what you mean to the University. Piss off,” the short man waved a dismissive hand, not breaking eye contact.
That’s when one of the goons connected his fist to the back of the short man’s head. His green eyes glassed and rolled upward right before he collapsed helplessly to the ground. The gang moved like a pack of hyenas going in for the kill as they rushed forward to get their kicks in while they could. Nate began rushing forward, but didn’t get more than a few steps before someone else made it to the scene. A dark hand yanked a goon out of the body pile, throwing him like a ragdoll into the wall before seeking its next target.
The newcomer stood maybe an inch shorter than Nate, his dark brown skin standing out against the dull cream of the train’s interior. “Back away. Now,” he warned before throwing yet another goon clear across the train like a discarded napkin.
“Ohh, someone thinks they’re tough stuff,” Yellow Armband goaded the dark skinned newcomer. “Tell you what, why don’t you pay 500 credits for yourself, another 500 for him and another 500 for… damages,” he glanced over at his unconscious goons. “Maybe I’ll let you off after that. If I’m feeling generous.”
“No,” came the quick reply.
Yellow armband scoffed a theatrical laugh. “Do my ears deceive me? Did you say ‘no’?”
“No,” the dark skinned man repeated, taking deliberate steps toward the offender.
“I’m not big on giving out second chances, but I think you ought to get one. Last chance. You surely know what the ‘elite’ status at Gate U means. I’m it. Hand over the credits. Now.”
As much as Yellow Armband proclaimed not to be about giving second chances, the newcomer seemed to live by that idea. His hand hurtled through the air at tremendous speed, slapping Yellow Armband across the face. Yellow went down hard. Metal groaned and bent as the young man crashed face first into the floor. Silence filled the train for a heartbeat. Two. The goons hesitated collapsing on the newcomer given how easily he had dispatched their leader.
“Leave. Now,” the newcomer commanded. The goons obeyed, shuffling away with their metaphorical tails tucked between their legs. Or actual tail tucked between his legs, Nate idly noted of a retreating Shifter.
The newcomer looked down at the short man on the ground, just beginning to stir back into consciousness. “If you’re going to have a strong will, you’re going to need to learn how to fight to keep it.”
“Losing hasn’t stopped me yet,” the short guy muttered. “Thanks for the help nonetheless. I’m Huck.”
The newcomer turned his gaze toward Nate. “And you cannot expect to be a hero by standing around and watching others get hurt.”
Nate frowned at the accusation before reigning in his thoughts. I don’t even want to be a hero. No need to take offense. “Yeah, you seemed to have the situation pretty well handled,” Nate shrugged.
“This time I was around. Next time I might not be,” the dark skinned newcomer warned in his thick accent. Without another word, he left.
Huck pursed his lips after standing up, looking put off that the guy had blatantly ignored his introduction. With a disappointed cluck of his tongue, he turned to Nate. “I’m Huck,” he tried again, extending his hand.
Nate shook it out of habit. “Nathaniel,” he introduced himself automatically.
“Damn, was that so hard?” Huck shook his head. “Pretending like I didn’t say anything to him,” Huck scoffed.
“I’m guessing you’re a first-year at Gate U too?” Nate offered.
“Yeah,” Huck brushed off his shoulder. “I have a minor healing trait. Don’t know what Tier yet, but damage doesn’t seem to stick around near me. You?”
“Reader. From my mom. Probably mid Tier,” Nate answered, trying not to sound braggadocious. “Where are you from?”
“Philly,” Huck grinned. “As East as Humanity goes. You?”
“Columbus,” Nate nodded.
Huck let out a low whistle. “Heard the city’s doing pretty well now with the new low tier Gates that popped up.”
Nate nodded. “Hopefully it’s a stable one. Either way, the mayor’s expecting a pretty big industrial boom. What’s Philadelphia like?”
“Ah, not much different from the stories you’ve probably heard. It’s right on the edge of desolation. The Delaware is blood red in some spots. Just on the other side, the ground goes on for miles, flat and barren. We can actually see herds of demons wandering around and when they approach. Every once in a while a Tier V from one of the Manhattan breaks makes its way across and tries its luck against our shields. Takes a day and a night for a raid to kill one. High-grade materials if you have the ability to refine them, though. Keeps us afloat financially and the shield generator running. The great Heroes strike it rich. The good Heroes die. Life’s tough out there, but we’re made of tougher stuff.” Huck paused. “You know anything about Chicago?”
Nate frowned for a moment as his memory tried to feed him any sort of new knowledge. After a minute, he shrugged. “Just what everyone else does. Five stable Tier I Gates. One intermittent Tier II. Three Tier IIIs in flux. Bastion’s hometown, which is pretty much the sole reason it’s the ‘City That Can’t Be Beat’ instead of another St. Louis. Hear it gets pretty windy at times. And of course Gate U’s there.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’ve heard, too.”
“Attention passengers: We’ll be arriving in Chicago’s Great Hall at the Western Union Station in approximately 10 minutes. Please make your way back to your party members to depart. Thank you,” an automated female voice rang out over the intercoms.
“Better get back to my parents,” Nate gave a polite smile.
“We’ll see each other again soon,” Huck nodded confidently. “Thanks for… well… not exactly helping, but… whatever.”
“Anytime,” Nate chuckled, “I think.” And with that done, he turned away to head back to his proper train car. He had to fight movement from passengers all trying to get to their groups, but eventually made it back to his mom and dad.
“There you are,” Nancy smiled warmly at her son. “Harold actually came back and wanted to apologize for treating you the way he did. Apparently his daughter wouldn’t let the issue drop.”
“You can stop trying to set me up on a date at any point in time,” Nate gave a forced grin. “Really. It was old 6 years ago.”
“I’ll stop trying to set you up with a girl when you settle down with one,” Nancy answered matter-of-factly. “Though I wouldn’t complain if you settled down with two or three either.”
“Nancy,” Peter shot. “I’m trying to raise a responsible young man who respects women, and look at you- being a bad influence.”
“What happened to that Lion’s Pride?” she teased right back.
“Pride as in honor. You know it’s talking about honor,” Peter rolled his eyes.
“I really shouldn’t have come back,” Nate sighed.
The train pulled into the more grandiose station than Nathaniel could ever hope to dream up. White marble and domed skylights acted together to give the entire hall an other-worldly feel. He couldn’t help but brush his fingertips against a column as he passed. History. A world without Gates or Demons. Men rushed past, dressed in elaborate old-fashioned suits. Always coming and going, never staying. Always moving. Progress. Work. Flow. Ingress and egress. The lifeblood of the city. From mob bosses to the common man to the President of the United States of America. This building was about moving people efficiently and on time. Images flashed by of crowds of people moving through the ages. Reconstructions and restorations and additions and daily commutes. It’s a building that had seen the worst of the Great Depression and the best of the Post World Wars boom. It had withstood the Worldwide Break and kept this city alive.
Nate slowly exhaled from the sheer intensity of his Read, his mind swimming with more information than he knew what to do with. And it all came with such intensity. He could spend weeks sitting here and Reading this Hall, trying to parse through just the basics.
“Watch out,” his mother warned him with a knowing smirk, “this place has history.”
“You could have warned me,” Nate swallowed hard, just now feeling how quickly his heart had been pounding in his chest.
His mother gave him the side-eye, “Like that would have stopped you.”
Nate let the argument drop, acknowledging his mother’s point. “I’m guessing you did the same exact thing when you first arrived?”
His mother laughed, her lilac-colored eyes lighting up, “Absolutely. Nearly fell flat on my ass in front of a huge crowd just like this.”
Just then, Nate’s father came up to their group, pointing to an overhanging sign. “Look, their Guild Hall is actually attached to the West Wing of this train station.”
“We know,” both Nate and Nancy answered with a small smile, reminding the Vanguard that Readers couldn’t ever truly get turned around or lost inside any structure utilized by intelligent beings.
“Right,” Peter scoffed a laugh to himself. “Well, I thought it was neat. Having the Guild Halls here-”
“Helps with battling Gates across the nation,” Nate finished. “Yeah, we got that, too. Lighthouse has its own train. Actually, most of the top Guilds do. They basically serve as a mobile headquarters whenever they get called across the country to defend against a Gate break.”
Nancy gave her husband an apologetic smile.
“Must be nice to have all the answers at your fingertips,” Peter shook his head with a grin.
“A little overwhelming at times, honestly,” Nancy conceded. “The sign says follow the corridor ahead of us. We have three alternate routes available to skip the foot traffic and get out ahead of the crowds. Let’s get moving.”