~ 17 years later ~

Lectes startled at the creak of an opening door. He was well hidden from the entering creature, “humans” they called themselves, which he’d been expecting. This one was a male, light skin and golden-bronze hair, accurate to the descriptions of this MacFarland man Lectes was seeking out. He’d squeezed himself between the wall and the couch.

The human dropped from view, occupied in a connected room, leaving Lectes perhaps three minutes to lock the entrance and perch next to the second room in anticipation. He’d been stalking them for some weeks, there may be other opportunities but none may be as promising as this.

When the human stepped through the door, Lectes pounced; tackling the man. One good jab to the base of the man’s skull, right where it connected to the spine at the back, dropped him with a muffled thump. With little effort, Lectes slung the unconscious creature over his shoulder and headed out. The halls were supposed to be fairly clear this time of day, according to his observations, and the stairwell should be completely deserted unless some spontaneous disaster drove the crowds into a stampede. At the bottom, there was an escape exit, the easiest way out since it led directly to the back of the building where his ship awaited its master.

All went well for the most part, Lectes nearly escaped detection from an unexpected hall wraith of an intern and slipped into the nearby alley way without notice. It took some work to find the door handle, but once he’d found it, he deposited his captive into the second seat of his ship, plopping himself in after. Starting up it’s engine, double checking that the cloaking shield was functioning decently, they took flight.

For all it’s filth, Lectes could understand, to an extent, why the renowned scientist of this solitary corner of the galaxy had chosen to live in such a city. It perched on the shore of a massive lake, which would much resemble an ocean to the eyes of a child, and shot through with canals drifting with vessels. Once Lectes had caught a glimpse of an amebic mirror stature that, not for the life of himself, could he seem to recall the name of. He was particularly fond of the Pier as well, specifically the giant wheel-thing strung with compartments for small groups to collect in as it cycled leisurely. There was no particular point to it, though it fascinated him nonetheless.

City turned into suburbs, then farmland, and finally rolling hills of the country where he landed, comfortably hidden in a dense forest somewhere in Southern Illinois; he preferred the country. His clearing was humble, not meant to last for long and easy to disassemble but it was enough. Lectes hauled the human from his ship, carrying the just stirring human to his tiny makeshift shack where he propped them up in a corner. The wild-flower speckled area hummed with bees, tall grass flaying the base of towering trees, considerably smaller than the ones he was accustomed to, where Lectes had neglected to flatten on the pretense that it looked better that way. He didn’t want to cut the grass, he’d never done it before, nor was he about to begin doing it now.

Lectes dug free his translator tablet from his rhombus-shaped ship, hoping the calibration was accurate. For the human’s first reaction to the forign being was to shriek and scuttled further into the corner which Lectes hadn’t realized was actually possible, then again, this was not his planet. In his approach, tablet in hand, the man panicked more and snatched up one of Lectes’ metal poles to swing at the supposed attacker. 

“I know I look strange but this, this is just ridiculous.” Lectes grumbled to himself, reflexively catching hold of the human to restraining them in a harmless arm lock. Not very strong, Lectes observed as the human quite quickly tired of resisting.

Cautiously, he released the human, who kept a wary eye on him, and spoke into the translator’s receiver. “Are you Sir Allistair Kirk MacFarland?”

The human’s eyes bulged.

“Can’t you speak? Just a moment ago you were screaming your respiratory system.”

The human cleared his throat. “Er, well… Allistair is my father, I’m Dante.”

“Oh, my mistake.” Lectes silently kicked himself, what a stupid mistake. “Could you take me to him then?”

“He succumbed to Aphrodite Syndrome last Friday.”

“...Please tell me this is a joke.” No, not ‘I'm sorry for your loss.’ or ‘my condolences.’ instead all Lectes could think about was how this set him even farther from his imperative journey to get back home.

The human - Dante, Lectes corrected himself - shook his head in confirmation.

“I have been drifting through the void for over seventeen years and sulking on this clod for two of that.” He moaned. “May the gods have mercy, surely he left something behind, you’re the scientist’s son.”

“Well yes, he left me quite a bit- too much really. A whole empire of research facilities, laboratories, factories...” Dante ticked off items on his fingers. “It’s overwhelming.”

“You should be grateful.”

“It’s not that simple, everyone thinks I can solve all of humanity’s most difficult problems, except I’m, by no means at all, my father. He left me no real instructions, I inherited all this by default, and I’ve barely forged through a quarter of his offices.”

Lectes crossed his arms.

“I’m just now realizing that I don’t know your name.” Dante said.

“Lectes. That's besides the point, I still need help and I'll just have to make do with you.”

“I honestly don’t think you’ll get much out of me.”

“Think of it as a learning experience, imagine i’m a forign exchange student and the headmaster paired us together because you’re the most respectable pupil in the district.”

Dante stared.

“Oh come on, you just admitted that you haven’t been getting along well. At least take me to this office.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect!”