Three years. That was the deal. Three years of freedom in exchange for quarterly meetings and emergency availability.
1,095 days to figure out what he was becoming, to get strong enough that when Marcus made his recruitment offer again, Zeph would be joining as an equal rather than a desperate survivor.
'84 days until the first meeting,' he calculated automatically. 'Plenty of time. For now, just… exist. Figure out how normal people live. Try not to get killed or arrested.'
Simple goals.
He pocketed the crystal and headed for the door.
The exterior walkway was empty at this hour—mid-morning on what appeared to be a normal weekday. Most residents were probably at work or school or whatever normal people did with their time when they weren't fighting for survival.
Zeph descended the stairs slowly, his enhanced hearing picking up sounds of life from behind closed doors.
