I know Chapter 5 is scheduled to be released tomorrow, but due to Christmas and Boxing day commitments, I am going to upload it early.

To those reading this the day it is uploaded, have a merry merry christmas and enjoy the festivities.

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Chapter 5 - Convergence

Phone in hand, Lupus stood at the bottom of the staircase in front of the London Library beside the coal-black railing. He sported a black and white chequered flannel, a white top, and blue jeans over his snow-white fur that now squeezed against his body. The wolf’s eyes would withdraw from his phone to scan the surroundings.

The pavement and neighbouring square bustled with people going about their morning commute. Several of them eyed the still canine. Lupus, waiting for the otter, became wary of the stranger’s stares.

Though not born in London, he lived there long enough to understand its hazards. No other city in England compared with London’s reputation for crime. Crime spiralled when the Division pushed thousands more into poverty. They all believed the lie that Vastelerians were to blame.

Within London’s unsettling atmosphere, he contemplated confessing to Tyler. Lupus stepped back to press himself against the railing and released a shallow breath as he tried to reel himself in. He needed distance. A breath of clean air—a luxury in the fume-infested city.

He felt a nervous constriction in his throat.

To compensate for his lack of dreams last night, his imagination played out a scene in his surroundings. A mirage born from his soul had consumed his surroundings. Not just any mirage, but one born from a subconscious desire that leaked and entangled itself in his present reality.

When the memory crystallised before him, he saw it…someone. A silhouette of a Vastelerian. Its form was a living shadow. No face, no features, no trace of self — only a hollow black outline. His mind had forgotten to give its features definition and identity, leaving only the shadow of a Vastelerian.

It loomed over him, even taller than it should have. If memory had served him correctly, a Vastelerian’s stomach should be on par with the library, not their waist. How can a Vastelerian be that massive?

That is because it was a manifestation. His imagination had added several feet to its scale, but he was unbeknownst as to the reason. The gulf between their sizes grew. A Vastelerian in London would prove unsettling. It should have unsettled Lupus, but…

It attracted the wolf. Though faceless and featureless, its presence birthed embers of calmness within him. Its lack of identity did not discourage him, but encouraged his journalistic curiosity to inquire what this creature was and why it eased him. He questioned why his mind gave it a slender frame, why not a Petritan, and why must it stand taller than any other Vastelerian?

Now he understood why it eased him. This shape mirrored his daydreamed Vastelerian, the same one that visited his thoughts during his office meeting with Thomas Sinclair.

It had grown tens of feet taller since. His mind had tweaked with its scale to address his deepening anxiety, his tightening nerves, and the frustration that gnawed at him. That meant more Vastelerian to hold.

A quiet kindness from his own subconscious to create an even taller, towering guardian to shield him from the London scene, and it walked towards him.

Each step it took should have rattled the pavement, should have sent tremors through the streets, should have sent the surrounding bystanders running, but the vicinity remained undisturbed. Not even a shadow bathed the humble streets.

It did not utter a word. Instead, the shadow craned its head down and locked its attention down on him as it closed in.

Lupus crossed his arms and stepped a little closer to the Vastelerian. His fingers found purchase on his black top as he stepped forward, away from the railing.

The featureless being came to a halt beside the square and lowered itself down onto one knee. It offered one hand to greet him, which allowed the wolf to recognise it.

“Lupus?” came the otter’s voice that cut through his illusion. “There you are!”

Lupus turned, his grip on his restrictive sleeves loosened as he caught sight of the spectacled otter at the top of the staircase.

A primal urge urged Lupus to glance at where the giant had knelt, yet nothing existed there. The city bled back into focus—the real London scene flooded his senses. Just the pedestrian-filled square and the hum of London continuing on as normal.

His heart sank, but he masked it with a smile directed towards Tyler.

“Did you get stuck on the underground–?” The otter slowed as he reached him, adorned in his traditional sweatshirt and jeans.
“You okay?” He asked.

Lupus’s forced smirk stretched, while he shoved both hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, I’m alright. Let’s head inside.”

Tyler adjusted his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose and looked the wolf up and down. “Wait, you seem—nevermind, follow me. I’ve already found where they store the old phone books.”

Without another word, Tyler waltzed up the five stairs. In the arched doorway of weathered limestone, a pair of wooden double doors, each fitted with brass handles, met them.

Beyond the oak doors, a grand room carpeted in crimson muffled the sound of their footsteps.

Bookshelves lined the walls of both floors, with a narrow black staircase bridging the two floors.

Globe lights hung overhead the handful of scholars and students who sat—hunched over books and handwritten notes.

Tyler leaned towards Lupus and pointed a finger towards the staircase as he whispered, “The phone books are on the second floor.” The otter insisted and walked forward, careful not to disturb the quiet ambiance.

Lupus followed. His attention would have focused on the odd stares they received from their library attendees, but his focus drifted elsewhere. More specifically—to Tyler’s tail.

That otter’s lengthy, brown tail kept brushing a chair leg or stack of unattended books on tables. Lupus watched it with intent, just in case he needed to catch a set of swatted books. Somehow, Tyler remained unaware as he wove through the steady area and up the staircase.

When the wolf’s trainers met the metal step—it rattled. His ears twitched and flattened as he noticed the sound that disturbed the silence of the library. Without turning, Lupus knew the scholars’ unimpressed eyes looked at him.

Meanwhile, Tyler ascended the metallic stairs with practiced ease. The otter either didn’t hear the clanks his strides made—or didn’t care. He showed near exhilaration, unconcerned by the disturbance to others reading. Whatever Tyler had found, it was enough to replace their usual calm with boyish excitement.

With a quiet sigh, Lupus ducked his head into his flannel collar, and tried to step softer on the way to the second floor. He hoped it would stop the scholar’s stares, but the clatter of Tyler’s footsteps drowned his attempts out.

At the top of the stairs, Tyler strode through the maze of bookshelves until he reached an enclosed glass study room in the corner of the second floor. Inside, atop a wooden table, sat a pile of worn phone books beneath the emerald green lampshade in front of two chairs.

Lupus entered after Tyler, who held it open. Once they were within, the otter sealed them. The acoustic panels and sealed gaps muted the outside world to them; them from the outside world.

The otter pulled out the chair, slipped his sturdy tail into the narrow gap of the seat, and plopped himself down. Stacked on the table were twenty-six phone books. One for each year of the last three decades, including this year. Far enough back to before The Division.

He picked up the book at the summit of the pile and flipped it open under the lamp. “I’ll start with the latest book and you take the next one,” he murmured, adjusted his glasses, and scanned the contents page. “We can work through them in chronological order until we find the Kintsugi residence, alright?”

Lupus stared at the open phone book while his index finger drummed against the table’s edge. He exhaled and redirected his eyes to the otter with a little smile. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” he muttered and picked up the next book in the stack.

“They’ll either be under Residential Listings or White Pages,” Tyler whispered over.

The wolf nodded.

He already knew this was a futile task. Whoever they were searching for wouldn’t be here. He drew up a seat and sat, positioning the book near him on the desk. Next, he moved toward the contents, sliding one claw down until he located:

White Pages……………………………………………………………………………………639

Just when Lupus turned a page, his ears twitched at the sound of fluttering pages from beside him. Tyler had flipped through the pages with awesome speed over to his book’s ‘White Pages’ section.

Lupus fingers traced the paper’s rough edges as he turned each page with little urgency. Although he wasn’t rushing, it became obvious when Tyler had reached the ‘H-K’ section before he reached page 639. Yet, when the wolf landed on page 639, he stared at the heading for a moment longer than necessary before he too scanned for the ‘H-K’ section.

Their search narrowed to the list of names beginning with ‘K’. Tyler flicked the pages faster, while Lupus persisted in hesitating before turning each one. They now shared the same understanding. Both of them scanned through the names together…

Kavanagh
Kenneth
Kensington
Kenworthy
King
Kingsley
Kingston
Kirk

No Kintsugi.

“Any luck?” Tyler asked over to the wolf.

“No,” he exhaled and slanted back into his chair. “What about you?”

“Nothing yet, but hey, that’s this year and last year covered.” The otter closed his book to put it down on the floor and grabbed the next book. “There’s plenty more to go through!” He added.

The wolf nodded and closed his book to slide it aside. “Yeah,” he mumbled back.

Tyler stroked a webbed palm across the wolf’s thigh. “We’ll find them, okay?” He smiled, withdrew his hand from Lupus’s lap, and reached to grab the next two phone books to set them down on the desk. “Alright, let’s try these.”

Lupus eyed the book but didn’t protest. Instead, he curled his fingers around the edges, and opened it. He looked to the side, straight at Tyler, to say, “Thank you.”

“Lupus, it is my pleasure. I don’t mind helping you out, especially with how much you helped me when I joined the company.”

Lupus’s left hand twitched with a familiar impulse, an instinct to squeeze his right wrist once more.
No, not this time. When the wolf’s sapphire eyes gazed at Tyler, his left hand changed course and rested atop the otter’s webbed paw. “You can call me Lupy, too, if you want to?” he offered.

Tyler blinked. For one heartbeat, the otter was unsure how to react. He attempted to speak, but the words he thought of got stuck, and he only managed an awkward chuckle. “Lupy?” His vocalisation held an uncharacteristic pitch. “I, uh… sure, I can do that,” he added back, and turned his flushed visage to hover over the phone book.

After the otter cleared his throat, Tyler opened the phone book. “But, uh, let’s–let’s continue, shall we?” he suggested and flicked through the pages.

The wolf’s lips curled into a smile while his hand withdrew from Tyler’s. “Alright,” he said, and reached down to open his book with more speed. It did not match Tyler’s pace, but it was faster.

That moment, a smile-worthy occasion, anchored Lupus’s hope. It wasn’t just the otter’s nervous response—it was Tyler’s determination to help that made his heart a little lighter. Though knowing his name wouldn’t be there, he ran his fingers across the pages, and that faint smile of his remained.

Once their attention came back to the phone books, they flicked through the pages to reach the White Pages, and over to the ‘H-K’ 8section. Together, they pored over the names as their fingers slid down the list.

Again, nothing—no Kintsugi.

Tyler sighed and shut the phone book with a soft thud. Almost as if in sync, Lupus closed his phone book a beat afterwards. Silent understanding passed between them until the otter spoke.

“Alright, let’s try something else,” he declared. “It might be possible they took their names out, so we need a phone book that dates further back.” Tyler wasted no time before he took the bottom two books.

“Here we go,” he murmured, gripping the dense spine of the book, and slid it out from the pile. He laid it open under the lamp where the light illuminated the faded print on the front: Dated March 2000. Twenty-six years ago.

Then, the otter took a similar looking semi-washed out cover and set it out in front of the arctic wolf, dated March 2001. Twenty-five years ago.

“Perhaps these hold something,” Tyler murmured, continuing his perusal of the pages.

While the otter scavenged through the pages, Lupus remained motionless. Only his hands moved to let his fingers rest against the worn cover. ‘Twenty-five years ago’.

Lupus’s chest tightened. Someone could inscribe his parents’ names on the brittle pages. That thought ought to provide him with a sensation.

Excitement? Hope? A desire to scavenge every page until he found his parent’s names, but he felt a pit take form in his stomach.

The prospect of locating his birth parents presented itself, yet he remained bewildered. Even if their names were inside, he wouldn’t recognise them. Each name he read belonged both to strangers and kin. A sadistic version of Schrodinger’s cat that played with the wolf’s mind.

“Yeah,” the arctic wolf said in a steady tone to conceal the turmoil underneath. “Let’s hope.”

With that, he flipped the book open, and his eyes caught something. The justification for the phone book’s size presented itself to him. Someone divided the contents page into two vertical headings.

Petritan Vastelerian

Lupus gazed at the page–the echo of cohabitation in the United Kingdom. Before today, he hadn’t considered the possibility, but if his parent’s names were in here, should he check both sides to be certain? He was desperate enough for a farcical idea to be worth exploring.

Curiosity took over Lupus. He rifled through the Vastelerian side of the book. Job vacancies filled its pages, noting the adverts for security guards and fruit pickers.

He never experienced cohabitation in the UK. The older generations never spoke of it, never taught it, never encouraged it. This volume, a relic from a better era, one that he desired experiencing. Yet, after seeing it printed, he longed for that experience even more.

No, impossible.

Refusing to ponder that nation further, he skipped the rest and turned back to the Petritan contacts. Even if he didn’t know what name he was looking for, he searched anyway, hoping one would call out to him like a siren song.

As Tyler scoured the ‘H-K’ section once more, Lupus deviated from the otter’s plan, and began his own search at the ‘A-D’ section. To search the names, the undertaking ought to begin at the start.

Just when the wolf moved onto the ‘B’s’, Tyler interrupted him. “Hey, you okay?”

Lupus’s eyes withdrew from the pages. “Yeah,” he murmured, flipping a few pages over before he added, “I’m okay.” He didn’t dare glance back at the Vastelerian section. That foolish hope of seeing his parents’ names had no place in the logic of his reality.

Tyler gave him a pointed look and gestured to Lupus’s phone book. “You’re checking names from A through D, not H through K.”

Lupus went silent. His fingers remained on the paper as he tried to plan an excuse. Yet, nothing came.

“Something caught your eye?” Tyler twirled on his seat to face the wolf. “What is it?”

The wolf’s fingers clenched his right wrist. “I’m…just looking,” Lupus let out and closed the phone book. “It’s nothing, Tyler.”

“I’m here for you, Lupy.” The otter cooed. “You can tell me, I promise,” he insisted and rested a webbed hand on the wolf’s thigh.

His skull dipped downward to view his lap, where his webbed limb rested on his left thigh. “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve wasted your time here, Tyler.” He said under his breath.

“What? I did not waste my time here.” He withdrew his hand from Lupus’s lap.
“Lupus, helping you was never a waste of time. I’d rather help you than my judgmental family.”

Lupus’s ears flickered at the sound of Tyler’s voice. His ears were learning about a new tone to the otter’s voice—confidence. Nothing like the usual nervous stammer or shy deflection Tyler often slipped into and he brought it out. Lupus eyelids closed. “Tyler—”.

“No, no, let me finish,” Tyler interrupted and let his assertive tone crescendo. “First, I’m here. I am happy to spend my time helping you.”

The wolf’s maw opened, but Tyler cut him off.

“That was my decision. I made that decision to make up for what happened with Douglas,” Tyler exhaled, offering Lupus a wry smile. “So yeah. You can tell me, Lupy.” His webbed hand returned to give a reassuring squeeze against Lupus’s thigh.

Lupus glanced toward the otter, then swallowed. “Tyler, you won’t find the name Kintsugi in the phone books.”

Tyler blinked. “What do you mean?”

The wolf straightened his posture to mimic Tyler’s. “Kintsugi is not my parents’ surname.”

The otter’s head tilted. “Then what is it?”

The otter’s innocent gaze, framed by spectacles, caused Lupus speechlessness. He planned to confess, though he lacked the words. He’d built walls and padlocked his heart for this very reason—to guard his secret. Safeguarded from those who would exploit or shun him for it. He wished he could lower those walls, brick by brick, and let the otter see the parts of himself he’d long hidden away.

That would take time. To rush it, to take a wrecking ball to his defence mechanism, it would only make a mess where his walls once stood.

The otter remained patient, and Lupus knew that. Lupus also recognised that Tyler did so without knowing he was an orphan. Yet, Tyler had shown no signs of an ulterior motive, only a desire to help him that had earned him a key to Lupus’s padlocked secret.

If anyone understood a difficult family situation, it would be Tyler. He inhaled and breathed out, “I never knew my parents.”

Lupus’s heart skipped a beat as the words left him, and silence followed. His eyes tried to study the otter’s unreadable expression, until behind the lenses, Tyler’s softened and ears sagged down. When Tyler parted his lips, Lupus braced himself, but Tyler said nothing.

Instead, Tyler swung himself off the chair, and wrapped his arms around the wolf. Though Tyler possessed a thin physique, he embraced Lupus in a grasp that the canine could not escape.

Lupus was confused. As his worries ebbed, Lupus reciprocated the gesture, and hugged Tyler. His chin rested on his friend’s shoulder blade, and he closed his eyes. The warm embrace had encouraged his subconscious to loosen a few bricks free of his wall. Barely opened, yet sufficient to create a grateful grin upon the wolf’s jaws.

Tyler eased his arms back, and his eyes searched up to meet the wolf’s gaze. “I’m so sorry, I.. I didn’t know.” Tyler whispered. “Is Kintsugi your adoptive parents’ name? If so, their documentation might work.

For a moment, Lupus considered dismissing the question. Instead, he exhaled, and addressed the otter’s curiosity. “I chose the name Kintsugi,” he replied.

Tyler blinked. “You… chose it?” he repeated, confused.

“Yes,” he replied, gazing downward at the floor.

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “Why Kintsugi?” He pressed further. “Is that even legal?”

“Yes. I filled out legal documents to make it official,” he answered and reclined back into his chair. “And, I chose Kintsugi because it was a promise,” he said with a whisper.

“A promise? What kind of promise?” He echoed back to the wolf.

Lupus’s eyes withdrew from the floor and met Tyler’s gaze. “I’d rather not say please.”

Tyler earned the wolf’s confidence, permitting him to confess his orphaned roots. As for his promise, Liam alone should be privy to the story behind the name ‘Kintsugi’. He did not target Tyler with his actions and hoped the otter would not interpret them this way.

“I understand, but it’s going to be alright.”

“It will not be,” he muttered back, while his fingers drummed against his right knee. “I can’t provide documentation of my parents for clearance.”

Tyler’s mouth opened, but only a, “... Oh,” came out as he scratched his chin with a claw. “If Mister Sinclair won’t let you back out, could you tell them you’re an orphan?”

Lupus exhaled through his nose. “That would raise suspicions about whether I’m an ascendant. No, thanks.”

Tyler’s lips twitched into a grin despite the tension. “Well, I thought you looked a little taller today.”

Lupus’s ears shot straight up. “Don’t even joke about that,” he muttered back.

Tyler’s grin faltered as guilt flashed across his face. He shuffled back in retreat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” His voice cracked before a muffled explosion interrupted him.

There was a sound. Something strong enough to penetrate their study room’s sound-dampening architecture. Lupus and Tyler snapped their heads towards the source only for a bookshelf to block their view.

Tyler shot Lupus a questioning look. “Did you hear—?”

“I did,” Lupus interrupted, rising and advancing toward the exit. Yet, instead of a familiar footstep sound, a distant explosion vibrated the ground. A tiny tremor tickled the soles of their feet.

Following the tremor, the library plunged into darkness.

Lupus and Tyler stood in the centre of the shadow-infested library.
Silence prevailed when everyone stared at what lurked outside.

A wall of golden fur and powdered concrete concealed the wall. Fur strands, thicker than branches, bristled and swayed in the breeze.
As they descended the stairs, they noticed a few bricks, and a tyre clung to the fuzzy follicles.

To anyone else, the spectacle would be a deterrent to halt their inquisition. To Lupus and Tyler, their reporter instincts overpowered their primal urge to approach with caution. With Lupus taking the lead, step after step, the pair of reporters continued to study the fluffy wall further.

It seemed like…

It was. He was certain that it was…

“Vastelerian!” Tyler blurted out.
Without another word, he dashed towards the door.

“Tyler, where are you going?!” Lupus called after him, summoning the other scholars’ attention once more. He cared only for the naïve otter, not the other judgmental stares.

“I’ve got to record some live footage,” the otter projected back and disappeared behind the front door. “Mister Sinclair is going to love this, Lupus! This is my big break!”

A few heartbeats later, Lupus sprinted after him. “W-wait-!” He shouted, burst through the entrance, and spotted Tyler across the street, who angled his phone camera upwards.

Before Lupus followed Tyler’s gaze, something yanked his attention to the sight of a dust cloud billowing up from a collapsed house. The building’s front wall fell away.

Jagged remnants of wood, exposed water pipes, and concrete jutted out around the exposed interior. It held his attention for a moment longer until he forced himself to turn away and redirected his eyes to where Tyler’s phone camera pointed.

A golden retriever cast a shadow over the library. An enlarged golden-furred canine covered in the stretched and torn fabric of her emerald dress. Strips of torn fabric swayed from her arms and legs like ceremonial ribbons.

Lupus lacked the experience to be an Ascendant. He possessed sufficient knowledge regarding the transformation to aid that person. She was enormous. Even the roof of the library struggled to surpass her midsection.

For the first time, concern crawled up Lupus’s spine. Unlike his American friend, he didn’t know this giant, nor did he have any clue what her intentions were. A fear that fuelled policies like the Division. Now, Lupus understood why Petritans develop megalopateophobia.