Waving one last time to Tori, who stood by the bus with other parents who had come to see their kids off to camp, I turned around. Next to me, as always, was Caitlin, and we were joined by a laptop, bought with money earned online, and a pair of earphones we shared between us. We were in for about three to four hours of driving toward Missouri—a trip that, by my standards, felt pretty long at a snail's pace. Sometimes I thought I was too spoiled by my powers, but then I reminded myself that not everything human was foreign to me. A trip watching a movie with my only friend was worth it.
Still, I shouldn't forget that I was human first and foremost, and only then a Taoranian with anomalous abilities. It's a pity that, over time, I was forgetting this more and more.
Power consumes.
The bus ride became the first real part of the journey, and, to be honest, I hadn't prepared for it at all. Caitlin and I sat together at the very back of the bus—it was fun and noisy there. I generally didn't like long trips, especially by bus, but this moment felt special. Maybe because we were the only familiar faces among kids I'd never met before. There was something childish and exciting about it.
The bus was full of people, all around our age—13 or 14 years old. At first, it felt a bit strange: everyone was joking, laughing, pretending not to be nervous about the first day at camp. Some were talking, others listening to music through earphones. Caitlin and I didn't start chatting right away either. First, we put on a movie, and then she pulled out a book with a beautiful dragon cover, while I got lost staring out the window.
As we left the city, urban landscapes gave way to rural scenery, and I sank deeper into this strange world beyond the glass. Everything was green, like in a picture: fields, trees, and small villages visible in the distance. But what I liked most was how the city noise gradually faded. At first, the bus was full of chatter, but soon almost everyone quieted down, and we were left in our little bubble—just us, the road, and our thoughts.
Caitlin put her book down, turned to me, and started talking about a new game she'd been playing with her online friends. There was nothing important in that conversation, but I liked it. Lightness, as always. We laughed at silly jokes and shared funny stories from school.
The farther the bus went, the more I immersed myself in the atmosphere of the days ahead. We weren't just going to camp—we were heading to a new place where we'd not only code but also make friends. I was a little nervous, unsure how I'd feel among strangers. A pity. But then I realized I wasn't the only one. Almost everyone on the bus was like me: a bit shy, a bit reserved, but eager for adventure. Having Caitlin by my side gave me confidence. We shared our worries, and it was calming.
When the bus turned onto narrower, winding roads, I started to get bored. I pulled my smartphone from my backpack to check what was happening online, but the signal was weak, so I had to settle for the old-fashioned way—talking. Caitlin and I started making plans for camp. I, for example, wanted to join a startup or hackathon, while Caitlin was interested in workshops on creating mobile apps. But mostly, we chatted about random nonsense, laughed, and tossed around ideas about how it would all go. It was annoying to play at being carefree, but the situation demanded it.
By lunchtime, we made a few stops. At some, we got out, breathed fresh air, and stretched—sitting for so long was uncomfortable. During breaks, we ran around the bus and came up with ways to cheer up the others. At one point, a few more kids joined us, telling jokes and silly stories. The laughter and noise in the bus didn't let up.
But as we got closer to the camp, tension grew among the kids. Caitlin and I were close, but we hadn't yet seen the place itself. I only knew the camp was somewhere in the woods, surrounded by nature. I couldn't imagine what to expect from the new environment or what the kids we'd be teamed up with would be like. We started gathering our things and preparing to get off.
Finally, the bus turned onto a narrow road, and an unusual panorama opened before us: a vast area with several cabins, lots of trees, and greenery. We were approaching the camp, and though I was nervous, it felt like something new and important was beginning. Caitlin and I exchanged glances and laughed. It was like the prelude to a great adventure. I felt a pang of sadness.
A pity I'd miss it all. Such a pity. I'd never had an experience like this, and I wanted to feel that life—carefree, full of laughter and loyal friends. Childhood. Maybe I'd still have a chance to come back. Maybe.
Alas, after we stopped and got out at the camp, I, moving at super speed, erased my presence from all papers and digital records. I went, yes, and everyone knew it, but they wouldn't look for me on the lists. One kid more or less—who'd bother searching for me among hundreds of others? And Caitlin, as always, would cover for me if anyone got curious enough to ask. In case of trouble, we had a code word meaning things were going south and I needed to return. Splitting my attention between two fronts was strange but not difficult. My gratitude to her was boundless.
Quietly slipping away from everyone, I hugged Kate one last time, receiving her wish to be careful, and then I flew off toward my goal. It was time for Egypt.
I shot into the sky like an arrow, instantly tearing through the density of the air. Missouri was left far below with its simple fields, green forests, and muted city lights. The whole world spread out before me—an immense array of roads, rivers, mountains, and valleys. So familiar, yet so small and grounded when you're flying at such speed that you barely have time to breathe.
A little faster.
In an instant, I soared tens of kilometers upward, through clouds that crumbled under my hands like cotton flakes. Now the world from the window seemed like a child's game. To my left, where the earth had just been, eternal stars shone. It wasn't space, just a brief glimpse of it, but from the other side. I climbed higher, heading toward my goal—distant Egypt, where the sky began to shift from blue to golden.
The wind lost its weight, and I no longer felt the heft of my body or the pressure of the atmosphere. Far below, I could see the outlines of rivers, tails of clouds, and marks of earthly time: jagged landscapes, steep mountains. I quickly crossed the continent and sped over the Atlantic, meeting its coolness with my face.
The sky darkened, but light broke through on the horizon. Brushing off the last clouds, I raced through the heavens, climbing higher, letting the earth melt into the distance. Below me, the ocean gleamed, which I circled in moments, beginning my descent toward Africa. Golden deserts smoothly transitioned into rocky formations. My speed increased, and I flew swiftly toward the Egyptian expanse. Seconds later, the outlines of ancient pyramids appeared, but they weren't my target. I bypassed them, racing along the Nile, catching the bright gleam of its waters in the rays of the setting sun.
Far ahead, an ancient city took shape—Abu Simbel. Its stone wonders, as old as time itself, with astonishing temples, rose before me. I inhaled the desert air, piercing my lungs even at such heights, and felt the grandeur of antiquity beneath me. Massive statues of pharaohs, fortified by centuries of sand, flashed below. Kilometers of land unfolded before me, but I needed the modern part of the city.
My speed increased, and I raced through the skies again, covering the distance between the desert and the city, which had recently been a forgotten corner of time but was now filled with life and modern wonders. Abu Simbel, hiding the grandeur of antiquity in its shadow, was moving toward a bright future. I flew over cliffs and dusty roads once traveled by caravans, plunging into the city's dense atmosphere, bursting into its vibrant life, heading toward the new part where the horizon met the steel sheen of skyscrapers and glowing lights.
The wind lashed at me as I emerged from the shadow of the great temples, and a completely different landscape appeared before me. The city was no longer what it had been centuries ago. On its outskirts, modern buildings with glass facades stood tall, powerful structures reflecting the sun and creating a sense of strength and progress. Road lines intersected, forming perfect patterns, and new highways provided quick access to the center. My anxiety faded—I descended lower.
My flight speed merged with the city's flow of cars and people. I saw how the new districts embodied modernity: buildings with huge windows, roads lined with palms, and abundant greenery against the backdrop of desert expanses. And somewhere there, beyond the granite and concrete, the memory of the ancient world lived on.
My speed slowed, and I smoothly headed toward the city's central area. Among the many modern residential complexes and entertainment centers, my destination appeared—the Paarm Hotel. It wasn't just a place to rest but a hub where style and comfort merged, where travelers from around the world converged. At least, that's what the information I'd read online claimed.
Landing a few meters from the main entrance, I felt the city continue to hum around me, but everything was subject to the grandeur of the moment. The hotel's luxurious facades, high-rise buildings with ultramodern architecture, glass terraces, and illuminated fountains surrounded me. The entrance, designed with a blend of tradition and contemporary style, offered calm, comfort, and exclusivity at any time of day. No wonder this place was considered one of Egypt's most expensive hotels.
As I touched the roof of the Paarm Hotel—an oasis of modernity created for those who value convenience and the uniqueness of the world around them—a light rain began to drizzle from the sky. Drops turned into streaks, scattering across the glass panels of the buildings. Everything around sparkled. I stood, soaking in the atmosphere, and looked up at the sky.
Rain… It had been so long since I'd been in these sands. The sands of death, where my comrades and friends perished. Where my life was not in my hands but in the hands of commanders and orders. Sands where every step was steeped in dirt and blood. Disgusting. It was painful to recall those moments, and such memories brought melancholy. Shaking my head to cast off the weakness, I looked through the roof and walls, quickly spotting my partner for the expedition to the anomalous city. She was curled up under a blanket, sleeping, snoring softly through both nostrils. Well, time to knock on the window.
That joke never gets old.
***
I'd like to say I was warmly welcomed, but that wasn't the case. The formidable Jane, startled once again by my appearance, pointed a gun at me and cursed profusely. It was amusing to watch the girl in her underwear fuming with rage, but after a few minutes, she calmed down. Then came breakfast, for which they gladly ordered me food. Delicious scrambled eggs, fresh vegetables, and fresh bread left a pleasant heaviness in my stomach. Though I didn't need to eat in the usual human way, these sensations of taste and warmth reminded me of something familiar. Something long forgotten.
Setting aside the utensils, we began discussing the plan of action. According to Jane, as a being of non-human origin, she needed little: water and dry rations. Harsh, but time was pressing. She said the longer we delayed, the less chance we had of finding her father. He'd been there for about a month, and only by chance had she managed to track me down. Without me, she would've tried to enter the City in the Mist alone, but her chances of success would've been minimal.
Leaving the hotel with Jane, who had changed into white-toned clothing, we waited for our ride. It turned out to be a "Desert Wanderer"—a series of vehicles from a well-known brand designed for desert travel. Under the hood of this beast was a 4.5-liter turbo-diesel engine, producing 350 horsepower and 800 Nm of torque. From my memories of contract missions, this machine could pull out of any pit, with enough power to easily navigate desert dunes. A true monster, further refined by engineers during brief rests to make it even stronger.
Driving out of the city's stone jungle, we headed into the desert, and I felt like I'd returned to the past. The clattering weapons behind us heightened the sensation. Lowering the window, I breathed in the hot air. Used to flying and super speed, moving so slowly was agonizing. This whole situation was infuriating, but why was I here? Why?..
"Brandon? Listening?" Jane touched my shoulder, and I, closing the window, returned to the conversation I'd been holding on autopilot. Not the most exciting feature of my brain, but convenient. Splitting attention was tedious and boring, but keeping my hearing attuned to Tori and my friend's heartbeats remained important.
"Yeah, Jane, I'm listening," I nodded, turning to meet her eyes. "Go on, you were talking about those creatures."
"Okay. As I said, no weak spots have been found on the creatures in all the expeditions there. Neither the dog-like ones nor the others were vulnerable to bullets or swords. Only strong physical force could injure them, and the weakest ones—kill them."
"That won't be a problem," I smiled.
"Right, it won't," she nodded, but the frown didn't leave her face. "But there are other dangers you don't know about yet. While we're driving, we need to figure out how to counter them, so listen…"
The City in the Mist is a dangerous place where no one has lived for a long time, but the city itself, abandoned by unknowns, remains unchanged. A city shrouded in fog, through which nothing can be seen, heard, or felt. A city guarded by unknown creatures that emerge from the mist, killing anyone they notice or hear. A city where a U.S. Army general went for reasons unknown.
And why does it all feel so strange and blurry? Like a veil before my eyes.
And that sweet smell, like cotton candy from childhood. I remember Tim and I used to steal it…