The endless flow of words finally stopped, and Thomas felt the air leave his lungs. Monica had come to a halt before a massive metallic gate. Beyond the bars sat a grand, two-story villa—a sprawling estate that looked more like a manor from a Victorian aristocrat's dream than a dormitory.
"Come on, let me introduce you to the other boys and girls," Mark said. He waved a hand, releasing a visible pulse of crimson Qi. The energy struck the gate, and with a heavy, mechanical groan, the iron swung inward.
It was a sophisticated trick. Mark hadn't broken the gate; his Qi had acted as a biological key, a high-tech identification system masked by mysticism. It was a reminder that while this world looked like the Industrial Revolution, its "technology" was powered by the Qi of its inhabitants.
