“What a dreadfully inefficient system,” Michael says as he looks around, but his voice is infused with affection.

I don’t like anyone, no matter how adorable their windblown hair may be, dissing my city. “This inefficient system transports millions of people a day,” I respond dryly.

His smile widens, but when he realizes I’m not smiling back, his look turns thoughtful. “You make a good point. It is both amazing and inefficient.”

The train arrives, and it’s packed, but we manage to snag two adjacent seats.

There’s a series of ads on the subway car’s walls announcing KORACH CHEVALIER’S NEW SINGLE “RIGHTEOUS” OUT NOW in bright red letters, Kor’s face gazing with romantic mournfulness at the commuters. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but I’m not.

As we pull away from the platform, the sway of the car and the press of bodies jostles me against Michael. With each knock of our thighs and bump of our shoulders, I become more and more fond of this inefficient mode of transportation. I may have many reservations about the dude, but he didn’t just stop being attractive.

“How are your hands?” Michael asks me at one point.

“Fine. Scarred. I’ve never had a scar before.”

“Your Ha’i is creative energy. Antimatter is the opposite.” He whispers this even though the other passengers couldn’t care less. “It’s the only existing substance that counteracts Ha’i and can cause injuries that Sire abilities can’t heal. Our labs are analyzing the gloves. The Inquisitors have certainly advanced their technology over the years.”

This is useful information. I had described the gloves to the Families during my debriefing, but no one seemed to have heard of antimatter. It definitely seems like the kind of thing Ozymandias Tech would have access to, though. The more I think about Izzy’s message, the more it makes sense that Oz Tech is behind the abductions.

We ride the train all the way downtown, and the car slowly empties. Once there’s no need for us to be pressed close together, Michael shifts slightly so we’re no longer touching. Suddenly the ride is a lot more boring.

“So, where are we going?” I eventually ask. There’s an entire historic order waiting for the answer to this question.

“We need to catch a train,” Michael says, “but the entrance to the train station is a bit… tricky to access.”

Where could we be taking the 6 line to catch a train? We’ve already passed the Grand Central stop.