In a drawer, a folded piece of paper lay sleeping. Kenji knew it was there. Last night, he'd folded the parchment with its half-written characters and slid it into the bottom of his desk drawer before going to bed. Though "going to bed" wasn't quite accurate. He'd lain staring at the dark ceiling, his thoughts circling endlessly around the same thing. Yoken—the gift bestowed upon Kenji as a transferee, a power that projected fragmented images of the near future—had shown him a vision. A large hand. A folded piece of paper being pushed into the bottom of a drawer. A string of numbers resembling erosion data. It was Gaius, Kenji was almost certain. The size of that hand, the way it moved. There were few people in the fortress as tall and large-handed as Gaius. Gaius Craven—a veteran surveyor who'd held a position in the Fortress of Dawn for many years, long responsible for investigating the void erosion in the outer edges and surrounding territories of the fortress. A man with salt-a