The Brave Heart finally docked at a private, reinforced pier shrouded by ancient, frost-tipped pines. The air here was different—sharper, thinner, and devoid of the salt-heavy dampness of François. This was the deep outskirts of the Canadian wilderness, a place where the map bled into nameless white space.
Guided by a silent driver who had been waiting at the dock, Mild was driven down a winding gravel path that opened up to a sight he never expected. Nestled against a jagged cliffside was a magnificent architectural marvel—a sprawling estate of glass, cedar, and dark steel that seemed to grow out of the earth itself. It was a "Passive House" design, engineered to be completely self-sustaining and invisible to satellite heat mapping.
As Mild stepped out of the vehicle, the silence was absolute, broken only by the distant rush of a waterfall. This wasn't a hiding spot; it was a fortress of luxury.
