It had been a lengthy run through urban sprawl and fallow fields before arriving at the colosseum he'd visited so long ago. He'd slowed when he reached the perimeter, leisurely strolling toward his final destination. Some watching might misinterpret it as a power move, but in reality, he was simply reminiscing.During his last visit, from the moment he stepped off the train, he'd had to contend with a veritable sea of people. They'd been on the platform, crowding stalls, and fighting their way toward the entrance. All the while, their incessant chatter melded into a dull roar.He remembered being annoyed at the commotion, rushing through the plaza to enter the colosseum proper.Cal approached one of the vacant stalls. They'd been arranged in a way to funnel the crowds toward the entrance, but now he wondered how they hadn't been overrun entirely. Each was little more than plywood and iron poles, with a few of the more fortunate ones having rolled up awnings.He knocked against the counter, hearing it creak. No cabinets or storage bins were in sight, suggesting they either packed everything away at day's end or just tossed whatever remained.Cal tried to recall what they'd been selling. Clay cups with rudimentary signs, flimsy toy swords, and dubious copper amulets. He'd described it as cheap crap at the time, but now he regretted not purchasing something. It didn't particularly matter what it was, just that he had something.He left the stall alone, continuing down the plaza. Even at the distance he still had to cover, it was impossible not to think about the colosseum looming over him. Its red granite arches were stacked tall, their maws open with a foreboding sense of welcome.Deciding to ignore that sensation, Cal refocused on the job at hand. What prompted him to ask Miss Plusier about meeting with Infinita Nox was the presence of The Watcher in the Waste. That had been an organized operation, and signs pointed (...)