Grant was enjoying his stroll back to the university. The air was cool and crisp, hints of autumn in the twilight hour.
The weather would turn bitter and cold soon, and he was looking forward to it. The summer had been long and hot, and Grant was glad for the reprieve.
He was just thinking about what sort of tea to make when he returned to his office, when he noticed a man standing outside the university gates.
As Grant got closer, he was surprised to see that he was more a boy than man. His clothes were shabby but well mended, and he was smoking a cigarette.
Even from far off, it was clear he was a Variant. Their slim figures and pearlescent skin always gave them away, at least from a distance. Up close, it was their square pupils.
Grant could see tattoos on his fingers, and he wondered what he was doing there; most Variants didn't venture to this part of Glasgow. Unsurprisingly, a guard approached, and he shoved the boy.
Grant rushed up and asked, "What do you think you're doing?"
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