Michael could not blame himself for thinking otherwise.
Even if his growth slowed from this point onward, he did not believe that in a hundred years he would become ordinary. That thought had never once crossed his mind. Who could say what he would possess by then, what methods he would master, what compensation he could offer at that level?
He was confident in that much.
The Sanctuary supervisor let out a quiet breath and straightened, the matter clearly settled in her mind.
"That will be all for today," she said. "It is time for you to depart."
Caelum nodded once.
He stepped closer and placed a firm hand on Michael's shoulder.
Michael did not resist.
This was an action he was already familiar with. Whenever someone far stronger than him wanted to relocate him instantly, this was usually how it began. A hand on the shoulder. A brief sense of spatial distortion. Then the world would blur and reform somewhere else.
At least, that was how it was supposed to go.
