Seattle at dawn was cold, wet, and thoroughly committed to making me regret every life choice that had led to this moment.
"I hate the Pacific Northwest," I muttered, stepping through the portal into an alley that smelled like fish and regret.
"You've only been here for thirty seconds," Azryth pointed out.
"That's thirty seconds too long."
The warehouse district stretched out before us, all rusted metal and broken windows. Ryota's team had set up in what looked like an old shipping facility, cameras and monitoring equipment arranged around a rift that pulsed with aggressive purple-black light.
"Welcome to Seattle," Ryota said, appearing from behind an equipment case. "Coffee?"
"Please tell me it's not Starbucks," I said.
"Local roaster. I have standards."
"I take back every mean thing I thought about you."
He handed me a cup that was actually good, which immediately made the morning forty percent more tolerable.
