Fact: being unconscious steals the perception of time.

When Larry regained his senses, he was surprised when he found himself still in the same place.

His house in southern France.

This was the day he most dreaded. A walk in the beach was the recipe for keeping the demons tamed.

He left his house and walked. Just like in any normal day. Storm clouds were gathering. It wouldn’t be a good day.

Something’s different, he thought. His mind told him he was imagining things, his senses confirmed that—yet, he could feel a vibe. A tiny spark enough to make him question his mind and his senses, to abandon logic and focus on that vibe.

Larry had a gift. Sometimes, he’d choose to use it, instead of pretending it didn’t exist—this was one of those times. He closed his eyes and, one by one, he turned off his senses; his perception waned until the only two things still remaining were the notion of his self and the vibe.

Larry locked on it, opened his eyes and began following the trail toward the beach.

Minutes later, Larry was digging a hole on the beach. There, he found a box. Inside, there were two scrolls that burst into flames as soon as Larry tried to grab them.

And then he woke up.

He was in a cell. It was just him and the camera at the ceiling. He knew where he was. Even if he didn’t know who had brought him here, he felt it. Perception had a way to surpass knowledge.

His mind was racing for clarity. He recalled everything and felt a mist of sorry and hatred when he remembered that it had been his son that knocked him out cold.

His nose had been band-aided. It still hurt a bit, but not as much as it hurt every time he closed his eyes. Larry thought of his son—dead and mourned—and could not stop blaming himself for what had happen.

*/*

The Centre

SL-27

Jarod woke up and had to avert his eyes from the light. Where the hell was he? And then it hit him.

The stench.

It was, unfortunately, too familiar to be confused with anything else. He looked down and realized he only had his pants on. He tried to adjust his position; that’s when he felt his hands cuffed behind his back.

His mind was still clouded from they had given him, but he knew he wasn’t alone. They wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving him alone. Not this time.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” said Lyle from behind.

“What. . .have you done to me?”

“Just a small sedative. Nothing much. I didn’t want you to sleep during the show.”

A sweeper entered the room with a bucket of water and splashed it over Jarod.

“What the hell are you doing, Lyle?”

Lyle smiled, but it faded quickly. “Payback.”

The sweeper grabbed Jarod’s feet and put them inside the bucket. Jarod instantly remembered the time when he trapped Lyle on a small warehouse and threatened to electrocute him; instinctively, he kicked the bucket away. The sweeper hit him in the face and was about to throw a second punch when Lyle spoke.

“Never mind that. Leave us now. I’ll call you when I need.”

“I know why you’re doing this.”

“Oh, really?” Lyle wondered with a grin on his face. “Do you mind telling me why?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe you need me for some deed.”

“Jarod, let me be perfectly blunt. We, I mean, I don’t need you anymore. You have—how shall I put it?—outlived your usefulness.

“Now that I have the scrolls on my possession and Alex under my control, I have everything I need to assume control of The Centre and The Triumvirate.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I always knew about the scrolls, the power they conceal. Its words were written purposefully to affect two lineages. Yours and mine. One would be able to read it and control its power, the other would be consumed by it. That’s what happened with my ancestor, the one who founded The Centre.”

“That’s why they needed me all along.”

“Yes but, like I said, it doesn’t have to be you, just someone from the same lineage. Kyle failed, Gemini and Ethan also, but the other one. . .I believe it’s going to work out perfectly.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lyle chuckled. “And they thought you were the smart one.”

Jarod’s mind returned to that moment on the pier when Alex had spoken those very same words to him.

“Do you even know why they want you back so much? Why they have been chasing you for five years?” Alex grinned. “You don’t really think it’s about being a pretender, do you?”

Jarod had never considered that idea until then.

“What are you talking about?”

“You have no idea who you really are.”

Something inside him began establishing connections until it all started making sense. Alex and Larry were his relatives. How that was possible was the fifty million dollar question. Unless Larry’s missing brother was. . .

*/*

Miss Parker walked purposefully toward Sydney’s office. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out a good way to execute what she had in mind. She wanted to compare a sample of Sydney’s blood with the one stored on the Bodily Fluid Storage Facility. IF they matched, she would forget the whole thing. If they didn’t. . .

She smiled to herself and it almost reached her eyes, but she quickly forced it to disappear. It could turn out to be another disappointment. Her mind was yelling that the whole thing was a waste of time, her heart too numb to be of any guidance—only the voice inside her head gave her a feeling of calm and security.

Have Faith, Angel, her mother’s voice kept whispering.

Yes, mama.

Only a couple more steps.

*/*

Sydney heard the door being opened, but didn’t turn to see who it was. He was checking his file cabinet when he heard her footsteps from outside. She was the only one in the entire Centre staff who came into his office without knocking. Even Lyle and Raines were polite enough to knock. Angelo didn’t knock either, but he never used the door anyway.

“Miss Parker! I see you’re back from your trip.”

“You have a gift to overstate the obvious, Freud.”

Her demeanor was the same, but he noticed the tone in her voice. He turned and saw something in her eyes. A spark like he didn’t see in a long time.

“Parker, are you all right?”

The question was a simple one and normally she would retort with a dry ‘Fine’ or a more aggressive ‘None of your goddamn business’. Instead, she stared at him, studying him.

Sydney felt her scrutiny reducing him to nothing more than a molecule under a microscope. No one, not even Jarod or Jacob, had looked at him that way. She wasn’t just looking at him, she was analyzing him, trying to understand him. She was searching. But he could only see that far.

“Parker. . .”

“I. . .”

Before she could continue, the grid from the air vent was removed and a small envelope fell on the floor. Sydney and Miss Parker immediately went to see what Angelo had left them.

Inside the envelope was a DSA and a piece of paper with JS 32 scribbled on it.

Miss Parker watched the contents for a bit before putting them in her pocket. “We need to go somewhere else.” She whispered.

Sydney nodded and they both left the office.