Fu Qian was never blindly optimistic. When he realized the colors around him were changing again, he quickly glanced at his reflection and noted the position and size of the fluorescent glow.
The next moment, he picked up the little cat Henry and sat back down, then flipped Oliver over so he was facing up.
If this was another color shift, he wanted to see what Oliver would turn into.
By now, the change around them was obvious. The red had quickly faded, replaced by a bright, dazzling white light, like daybreak.
But things did not go as smoothly as he had imagined. As time passed, the white light grew overwhelmingly intense, soon filling his entire field of vision until he could see nothing at all.
The instant his vision disappeared completely, Fu Qian kicked out without hesitation.
There was nothing there. Oliver was indeed gone.
A few seconds later, the white light gradually receded, and Fu Qian's vision slowly returned.
As expected, although he was still sitting down, he was no longer in the laboratory.
Neat rows of seats, dim lighting, and a huge screen—a classic setup. He was apparently sitting in a movie theater.
So there had been another shift through time and space? This time, though, things seemed a little different.
Fu Qian lowered his head. His left hand was hooked through a heavily worn leather collar.
Henry, the little cat who weighed at least ten pounds, hung limply from it, looking listless and freshly woken from a nap.
Back to normal.
Fu Qian's mind stirred. Henry's appearance and demeanor led him to the same conclusion, and he had a vague idea of his current situation.
"Angelo, have you found your friend yet?"
Almost at the same time, a voice rang out behind him.
Fu Qian