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In addition, after each project and layoff, the Councils were given permission to use Salma on the humans in question. But it still bothered them that the DUIO was dragging humans into a world that was too dangerous for them, while at the same time jeopardizing our secrecy and thereby the survival of the species.

What worried the Councils even more was that there were already some Quatura working here whose curiosity seemed to outweigh their fear of the transformed Ruisangor employees who had moved here from the big cities specifically to work on top-secret projects for anonymous major investors.

Most of the researchers here were Transformed, but they respected the Quatura researchers.

I wouldn't be surprised if some of the Quatura were only here because some high-ranking member of the Councils feared that the Ruisangors were plotting a secret attack against our kind.

It should be noted that, throughout history, conflicts between the Ruisangors and the Quatura had rarely ended in bloodshed. However, the Quatura in particular kept their distance from the immortals, and the Councils even wanted them to eventually disappear from the island, or at least be regulated. Whatever it meant that stood behind those words of their questionable agenda that revolved around an Authoritarian Blairville...

In any case, Quentin didn't seem to mind working with a Ruisangor, nor with a Quatura.

I hadn't even questioned his high position and his collaboration with Diana Adams, but now it also made sense that he was in possession of Salma.

Quentin shook his head with a quiet snort, as if we had offended him.

I could do nothing but stare.

He was a Quatura.

“How is it that I can sense your power now, but not at any other time?” David asked with suspicion.

Indeed. Normally, as a Quatura, one had to actively tune into the energy around oneself to sense whether someone was supernatural. But for the past few minutes, a powerful vibration was running through my body. A reaction that – according to the Earth Oraculi in the temple – would only occur between two powerful Quatura, because the elements were reacting to one another.

“A trick,” Quentin replied, and I knew immediately that dark practices were behind it. Something David probably didn’t even know existed.

“You’re not documented,” I finally managed to voice one of my thousand thoughts.

I had never imagined I would meet a male Quatura.

They were so rare, so powerful, that the Councils system worldwide ensured that they were well protected and grew up under the strictest observation, that they were confronted with and trained in their elemental powers at an early age – as this usually begins in boys during early infancy – and that they married descendants of powerful Quatura lineages to increase the chances of producing more male Quatura.

Three of them were known.

The first was a male Air Quatura from London, Valentin Harper, only twelve years old. His father had been killed in an attack with Umbra, which was why the Circle of London treated him like a member of the Royal Family, and representatives of the Councils had already betrothed him to Melania Fernandez, a rare Fire Quatura from Madrid, also still a child.

The second was Kanan Dhawan, a male Earth Quatura from the highly respected Earth Quatura dynasty Dhawan in India, who had gotten married a few months ago. His father had been a male Earth Quatura who had passed away ten years ago from an incurable illness, and now everyone hoped that Kanan would have a male heir, as the family followed a traditional patriarchal system.

The third was a very rare male fire Quatura from Chicago, Edward Nicodemus Salem, already in his forties, and also ordered by the Councils to marry and produce offspring.

Female Quatura literally fought over the chance to become the wife of a male Quatura, but only young descendants of particularly pure-blooded Quatura lineages with a proven history of male offspring were considered.

Grace, along with sixteen other Quatura women, had been considered to marry the male Salem Quatura, but the Councils had chosen Cordelia Hendrix, the daughter of Vera Hendrix and a descendant of a particularly pure Air Quatura lineage, as there had been an increased occurrence of very rare Fire Quatura offspring throughout history.

In short, a male Quatura could not simply disappear from the radar. Every step, every ritual, from birth to the present moment, was documented by the Consignat, and sometimes we even prayed to the gods for these men. They were part of the Global Quatura Parliament, even though they primarily served representative purposes, and their elements were tightly controlled by the Councils.

No one would ever let a male Earth Quatura lead a ceremony, so strong were their powers. And using a male Fire Quatura to defend against other species or worldly threats had only happened twice in history.

Their elemental power was untamable, powerful, destructive... just like mine.

So how could it be that Quentin Tiberius was walking around on the loose, playing human professor, conducting illegal research on the species, and still hadn't been discovered?

“That will also remain in this room,” Quentin replied with narrowed brows, filing away the documents before sliding two white cards with badge reels toward us.

I had totally forgotten to take my ID badge…

“I'm not going to run after you to give you your lab badges. So put them on. Now.”

I stared at the awkward picture on my lab ID, trying to memorize the number, but there was too much to process.