Calloway is an inconspicuous building on the outskirts of the Bureau's eastern facility. Lucas has never been to this area, even after working here for six years. This place is huge, so it's no surprise.

There's a security checkpoint that makes driving in every morning a hassle. The many buildings are jarringly similar: modern styling, glass doors, expansive windows where the sun glints off at mid-morning, and flat roofing.

He spent five years on the far side.

Hawthorn, the building where the agents rendezvous. With its pruned hedges, five-tier security, and an impressive gym.

He'd get his orders, not in person, via a curt phone call with a location followed by a coded email that gave him his directions to the letter.

On his off-time, he'd train physically. He's never cared to utilize his power except to augment brute strength. There are a few agents that are flashier with their magic. He made sure to stay away from them, particularly.

Thoughts straying, he wonders if he'll fail the mental exam when it comes time this year. What will they ask? He can't possibly muck up an assessment to be a researcher, can he?

As Lucas pulls his car into a space in the scarcely filled parking lot in front of the Calloway building, he contemplates questions he could be asked and what he'll answer when facing that doctor again for evaluation.

'Do you suffer hallucinations while on location?'

'No.'

Lucas takes his keys from the ignition.

'Do you ever steal items or objects from the places you investigate?'

'No'

Leaning over the console, he takes the paper with the golden seal in hand. He straightens and grabs the door handle.

'Do you ever think of taking the gun you've hidden under the dresser and shooting your girlfriend?'

Lucas freezes.

'Ever think of turning it on yourself so you can feel something before feeling nothing?'

Sitting in the car with his hand gripping the handle, Lucas waits until his shaking subsides before stepping into the parking lot.

It's a long time before he's steady again.

"Sign here."

Lucas follows the man's cold order. The pen scrapes against the paper. He's signed his name a dozen times.

When he's finished, he straightens and gives the pen to the guard's outstretched hand.

Black body armor and a dark blue uniform underneath. Calloway takes their security seriously. He's counted over thirteen armed men and three women. All muscular and certainly trained. They're protecting the Bureau's greatest assets, after all.

Seers. Powerful mages that are unlucky enough to have a glimpse of what can be. They're prisoners. Owned. He's grateful that he only has an adequate grasp of magic. Not enough to make the Bureau interested. His inclination for violence did that.

Lucas was led through the brightly lit corridors of off-yellow paint and white tiling. He's been placed in a room with a single table and a pair of chairs. He's signed every paper thrust in his face and tried to remain impartial to the fact that he's been told nothing about the particulars of why he's here.

The man taps his body armor. "I'm Zelig. I'll be your handler while you're visiting." He points to the small black box attached to the far corner of the ceiling. "For the benefit of the camera, I'll be asking some questions. Answer yes or no."

Lucas says, "Yes." He remains sitting because Zelig does.

Zelig nods. "Good, you get it. Let's begin. You agree that by walking into that room of your own free will, you accept all risks to your person?"

"Yes."

What is he walking into? He'd read something similar on a paper he'd signed. He'd assumed it was legal overboarding. Hearing it reiterated makes it suspicious.

"You agree to take full responsibility to ensure your person never passes the threshold marked clearly? Failure to comply may induce irreversible madness."

"What's—"

"Only yes, or no."

"Yes."

"Do you agree verbally that the Bureau owns any visions you may be subjected to within proximity to the seer?"

"Yes."

Zelig pushes his chair back with a screech. He rises. "Follow me."

More off-yellow walls. Up a flight of stairs. Down a quiet corridor with cameras every ten feet. They turn, and at the far end is a set of double doors. Metal and thick, like they're keeping a wild beast within that could escape and kill them all given a chance.

As they walk, Zelig says, "She asked for you by name. We'll record the interaction. You'll have an hour. If she asks for you again, you'll return and repeat the process."

Lucas doesn't reply. He doesn't have a choice in the matter. Not that he'd protest. He's more than curious why his name has come up.

'You're nothing', Susanna's voice whispers poisonously sweet from somewhere in his head. 'A nobody'.

Right now, Lucas agrees with her.

They stop at the doors. Zelig pulls the card that dangles from his body armor, and the cord lengthens with a whoosh. He swipes the red device on the wall, and it flashes before turning green with a beep.

"Straight through," Zelig says. He's closing the door the minute Lucas steps into the tiny room beyond. There's another set of doors with frosty glass directly ahead.

Behind him, the mechanism of the lock moving back into place is loud enough to hasten Lucas's heart.

It's calmed to a steady beat when Lucas opens the glass doors and walks through.

There's a soft thudding.

White from floor to ceiling. The illusion makes the room seem gigantic, stretching further than his eyes can see. The only color is a red ring on the floor, and in the middle is a woman sitting cross-legged.

She stops bouncing the grey ball she'd been focusing on in favor of watching his slow approach. The smile she gives him is fond.

Her curtain of dark hair obscures her features, but he glimpses her slanted brown eyes and pale skin, made paler by the white-uniformed outfit she's wearing.

"Lucas." Her voice is beckoning, not like vampires with their dark power of persuasion. There's an effortless seductiveness in the natural rasp of her words. "I've waited for you."

Lucas stops far from the circle's edge. "You know my name?"

"I've known you since I was a girl."

The ball is thrown towards him. Lucas catches it one-handed.

As he tosses it back with a gentle underhand that she catches easily, he wonders what he should say to someone who already knows everything and settles for, "If you know me, it's only fair that I know your name."

"My name is Asha." She tilts her head, and her hair falls away from her face. She's unarguably the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. "You aren't broken."

Lucas humors her and says, "I am."

"No," Asha says, smiling affectionately. She rises to stand. "Your future. Completeness. It's waiting." She lifts out her hand, palms up, fingers hovering close to the ring of red. "Touch me, and I'll show you."

Lucas would be lying if he told himself he wasn't tempted. He turns and, with soft taps of his shoes, begins a slow pace so he doesn't have to stare into her dark eyes that are making his fingers shake. "You've seen me before in your visions? As a girl?"

Asha says, "I've waited for you." The shaky infliction to her voice draws his gaze, and he's dumbstruck.

She's staring at him like he's never been looked at before, with deep affection and a small quiver of longing to her lips.

There's an unfamiliar tugging in his heart as Lucas walks closer, stopping an arm's length away from the circle. "Why call for me now?"

"You're ready. You weren't before. You needed to fail. Wash-out." Asha frowns, dropping her hand angrily. "Not nothing. Never nothing." She takes in a shaky breath and smiles fondly. "You're everything. Are, will be, always."

Lucas's fingers shake. "Ready for what?"

Asha comes to stand at the edge of the circle. "Wednesday, seven o'clock. Your apartment."

Lucas moves closer, and if he wants, he can reach out and touch her. He won't. Even if his fingers twitch to do so. "What will I find?"

Asha smiles sadly and turns away. She crouches and bounces her ball with soft taps. "Bluer than the ocean." The ball taps faster. "Drown me in your eyes, my love."

Accepting that the conversation is over, Lucas leaves her. She's singing of blue eyes when the doors close.

He hums the tune all the way back to his car.