The first rays of sunlight gently filtered through the worn curtains, casting golden streaks across the tangled sheets. I tried to shift, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Two warm, naked bodies were sprawled across me like living anchors. One had her arm draped over my chest and her leg hitched over mine; the other was nestled close, her cheek pressed to my shoulder, letting out a faint, adorable snore.

  And was that drool? I didn’t care. I had never been more content, more in love, or more at peace.

  Carefully, I pulled back the covers just enough to see their bare backs and the tangle of dark and red hair against my skin. My hands explored the curves of their spines, gentle in their movements, as I tried to wake them with soft strokes.

  Allira was the first to stir, her groan muffled against my chest. She lifted her head and squinted at me, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Mm… morning already?”

  I slid my hand lower, palm her perfect backside, and gave it a playful pat. “Rise and shine, wife of mine.”

  She smirked. “Did you not do that enough last night?”

  “If we didn’t have to go save the damn kingdom, I’d still be doing it.”

  “I can feel that you still could,” she said, eyebrow arched as she felt what was hidden beneath the covers.

  A grumble sounded from under the covers. “Be quiet, you two,” Seraphina mumbled, pulling the blanket higher. “How do you still have energy? I got tired just watching you.”

  “You weren’t just watching,” I muttered with a grin.

  Seraphina peered out with one eye, her hair a wild red halo. “You’re lucky I love both of you. Now go away or bring me breakfast in bed.”

  “Allyson,” I called toward the far corner, “are you awake?”

  “I do not sleep, Master,” came her even-toned reply. She was exactly where I’d told her to stand, facing the wall like a patient statue, hands clasped neatly in front of her.

  “Good. Could you turn around and join us?" I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stretching as the cool morning air kissed my skin. Behind me, I heard the telltale rustle of sheets and the faint resistance of two women pretending they weren’t about to go right back to sleep.

  I raked a hand through my hair and asked, “Allyson, what materials do I need to seal the rift?”

  Without hesitation, she recited a list: high-grade mithril, copper, iron core, and some parts she needed to obtain from the tower. I frowned slightly, taking mental notes. “Custom forging across the board, then. Great.”

  I glanced back at the bed. Seraphina was buried under the covers again. Allira was watching me, hair tousled, chin on her pillow. “Well,” I muttered, “breakfast isn’t going to eat itself.”

  The common room looked almost unrecognizable compared to last night’s chaos. Most of the frantic crowd had left, and aside from a few quiet voices and tired eyes, the inn was settling back to normal. A dull fire crackled in the hearth, casting a gentle amber glow over the worn floorboards.

  We took our usual table near the fireplace, and Allyson, always alert, stood silently behind my chair like a sentinel in human form. Seraphina wore her green dress again, the one that hugged every curve, and greeted the morning with her usual effortless elegance. In contrast, Allira had strapped back into her armor, her expression tight.

  “I felt useless last night,” she said quietly, running her fingers along the rim of her teacup. “Couldn’t even draw a blade. Couldn’t protect you.”

  I reached across the table and gently touched her hand. “I understand,” I said. “But wait until you see the armor I’ve got planned for you. You won’t ever feel unprepared again.”

  Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “It better have teeth.”

  “It’ll have claws.”

  The waitress approached, weary but still smiling, and placed cups of steaming tea and simple plates of bread and dried fruit in front of us.

  “Apologies,” she said, “supplies are running low. But we’ll keep hot meals coming as long as we can.”

  “We appreciate anything,” Seraphina said warmly.

  As we sipped the tea and nibbled on our food, the door creaked open behind me, and Vaktar strode in. He looked as if he hadn’t slept, which, knowing him, was probably true. He dropped into the chair beside me with a grunt and helped himself to a cup of tea.

  “Morning,” he said. “Or whatever counts as it these days.”

  I gave him a nod. “Updates?”

  He leaned forward, voice quiet. “That officer you shut down last night? He didn’t like it. But he kept his men outside all night. Held the perimeter. No incidents.”

  I exhaled a small breath of relief and looked around the room. A few eyes quickly looked away when I met their gaze. Whispers flowed like currents on the floor. Something had changed since last night. Vaktar noticed it too. He took a sip from his cup, then said softly, “The rumor’s out. About you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That I’m an Engineer?”

  He nodded. “Spreading like wildfire. Everyone wants to know if it’s true. And more than that, they want to know if you’re going to end this war.”

  I sank back, the weight of it pressing down on me. Seraphina reached out and gently rested her fingers on mine. Allira, still armored and silent, watched the room like a soldier on duty. And behind me, Allyson stood as still as a carved stone.

  The forge floor buzzed with activity. Hammers beat the steel rhythmically. Sparks flew in the smoky air. The heat struck us immediately as we entered through the back door of the Guild a wave of warmth, sweat, and raw metal.

  Blacksmiths moved like clockwork, each focused on their tasks, calling out for materials, stoking flames, or shaping glowing bars on anvils. When we entered, guards followed behind us, checking corners and scanning faces. Some of the smiths glanced up, startled, but quickly went back to their work once they saw Allira take charge.

  She stood straighter now, armor polished, voice sharp, her new rank radiating from her like heat off a forge. “Hold the perimeter,” she ordered the guards. “Keep clear of the workers. We’re here for security, not disruption.”

  They snapped to attention with crisp nods. The smiths grunted approval and returned to their tasks.

  Seraphina and I headed toward the forge office tucked along the side wall. The door creaked as we entered, revealing the familiar chaos of scrolls and diagrams scattered across the desks like fallen leaves, and a mountain of correspondence awaiting signatures. She sighed, and I grinned. Business as usual.

  Vaktar stepped in behind us, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve got some leads to chase. I’ll be back before lunch unless I die. Then you can have my sword.”

  “You know me, I’ll give it away,” I said dryly.

  Once the room cleared, I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves, and arranged the main workbench. Allyson stepped beside me, hands clasped behind her back. Her calm presence was oddly grounding.

  “Let’s begin,” I said.

  With her guidance, I started sketching out the design. The more lines I drew, the more it all began to click: the arcs of containment, the resonance field stabilizers, the mana lattice. It was like unlocking a blueprint I had always known but never had reason to see.

  When the plans were finished, I studied them with a strange mix of awe and clarity.

  “Inversion resonance,” I murmured aloud.

  Allyson tilted her head, eyes faintly glowing. “You recognized it faster than expected. I am impressed.”

  “I’ve remembered the theory,” I replied, “but I never had a reason to build something like this before since I was a kid.”

  “You do now.”

  The door opened again, and Guildmaster Verran stepped in, followed by three figures. Arch Mage Vael wore his usual grey and gold robes. Mage Valen, lean and sharp-eyed, observed everything with scientific curiosity. With them was an envoy from Eldros, dressed in long blue robes embroidered with silvery runes, wearing a distant expression.

  Verran gestured toward me like a proud uncle presenting his favorite nephew.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, “here is Earl Robertson in the flesh.”

  I wiped my hands with a rag and nodded politely. “Good morning, Guildmaster. Is everything still standing?”

  Verran let out a quick laugh. “Barely. Had to spend half the morning explaining your sword to our guests here. I think they’re half in love with it.”

  “You just like the attention,” I smirked.

  “Damn right I do. That blade is the talk of the floor. Half my smiths want to study it, the other half want to steal it.”

  Arch Mage Vael stepped forward, eyeing the schematics laid out behind me. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Yes,” I said, tapping the center of the diagram. “I’m calling it a Gate Disrupter.”

  Even the envoy’s expression cracked, his brows lifting with restrained wonder.

  Valen leaned in. “You sketched this yourself?”

  “With some help,” I replied, nodding to Allyson. “But the mechanics? That’s mine.”

  Their silence was its kind of applause.

  Arch Mages Vael and Veralt moved around the workbench, their robes whispering across the stone floor. Their eyes examined the schematic laid out before them, inked lines, arcane symbols, and mechanical notes scribbled in a mix of engineering shorthand and magical notation.

  The two arch mages exchanged a glance. Veralt adjusted his spectacles and squinted at the intersecting lines. “I see component runes and circuit paths, but what I don’t see is how this,” he tapped a strange, wheel-like structure, “closes a rift that large.”

  “That’s because this isn’t magic,” I said. “It’s engineering. A different kind of science. It works on a simple principle of inversion.”

  Their stares didn’t waver, but I noticed the uncertain creases forming around their eyes.

  I smiled, raised my hands, and made a slow wave through the air. “Think of energy as moving in waves.” I paused for a moment, noticing confusion on their faces. “Like ripples on water, right? Now imagine sending another wave with the same amplitude and frequency, but completely inverted. When they meet,” I lightly clapped my hands, “they cancel each other out.”

  “Like noise cancellation,” Seraphina murmured, watching from her seat with her chin propped on one hand.

  “Exactly,” I nodded. “The Gate Disrupter produces a precisely tuned inverse waveform aimed at the rift’s carrier signal. That’s the core of the incursion; without it, everything else collapses. Every gate has this single carrier signal.”

  Magister Veralt frowned. “So you’re not destroying the rift. You’re unraveling it.”

  “Right,” I said. “But there’s a catch.”

  Vael straightened. “I suspected as much.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “This must happen exactly when the rift is at its largest during the surge. When the carrier is canceled, all the energy it was supporting collapses. Half of it is pulled back through the rift.”

  “And the other half?” Veralt asked slowly.

  I gave a dry chuckle. “Right into us. A pulse of demonic energy, raw and wild. So, the rule is simple: don’t be standing in front of it when that happens.”

  The two mages exchanged a long look, the weight of what I’d said sinking in. Veralt exhaled through his nose. “Risky.”

  “Everything worth doing usually is,” I replied.

  The Guildmaster stepped up beside me, eyeing the page I handed him. “So, what do you need?”

  “Just the essentials to begin with,” I said. “Once I have the top three,” I tapped the first few items on the list, “I can begin the main framework. After that, it’s just refinement.”

  Verran’s eyes scanned the list, then gave me a look. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

  I grinned. “Not this time.”

  He tucked the paper into his coat. “I’ll put my best smiths on it. You’ll have what you need within the hour.”

  Vael folded his arms. “What you’re building here, David, is more than a weapon. If it works.”

  I met his eyes. “It will work.”

  Veralt gave a slow nod. “Then may the gods be with you, Engineer.”

  “David, if you don’t mind,” Arch Mage Vael said, resting a hand lightly on the shoulder of the younger woman beside him, “Mage Valen will stay with you while you build the device. I want someone present to observe the process. This is a piece of history.”

  Mage Valen began to object, but Vael silenced her with a glance and a small, knowing smile. She relented with a sigh.

  I offered a half-smile. “No issue. She can shadow me as closely as she likes.”

  Vael nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Earl. Good luck.”

  With that, the group filed out, leaving the forge’s heat and hammer-clang behind them. Once the heavy doors shut, I turned to Allira.

  “Allira, please come with me. You, too, Allyson.” I glanced at the still-lingering mage. “Valen, feel free to follow.”

  We entered the office where Seraphina was already sitting at her desk, head bent over a small mountain of paperwork. The sunlight coming through the window cast a soft gold glow on her braided hair. She looked up, smiling as we walked in.

  “Seraphina,” I said, “you’ll want to see this.”

  Allira looked confused but followed without protest. Mage Valen stepped in, hovering near the door like she wasn’t sure if she was intruding or studying us like a live exhibit.

  “Could you close the door behind you?” I asked her. She slowly obeyed, staying inside, despite being curious herself.

  I turned back to Allira, a little grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Arms up?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just trust me.”

  After a brief hesitation, she raised her arms. I stepped forward, took off her armor piece by piece, and carefully placed the steel plates into the box beside the desk. Soon, she stood before me wearing only the lightest linen undergarment. My hands paused. Her curves, warmed by the sunlight streaming through the window, were a sight I could never grow tired of. I leaned in and kissed her gently and slowly, my hand brushing along her waist.

  “This,” I said as I stepped back and reached for the chest beside me, “is your wedding present.”

  I opened the box with a touch of ceremony and pulled out the first shining piece. It shimmered in the light, sleek and smooth, with a bold, deep orange color accented by a brushed black finish. Each piece was lightweight yet durable, polished to perfection, and ideally suited to her exact frame. Allira’s eyes widened.

  “That isn’t Mithril,” she said softly.

  “Nope. Mithril wasn’t good enough for you,” I held out the chest piece. “I put padding in all the right spots. Lined for comfort. You won’t overheat, and it’s stronger than what you were wearing yesterday. If anything’s too tight, I’ll make adjustments.”

  “Too tight?” she blinked, puzzled.

  I looked down at her stomach with a raised eyebrow and gently patted it. “You know. For the future.”

  Seraphina burst out laughing. “Maker’s breath, David!”

  Allira rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, cheeks warm.

  I dressed her piece by piece, carefully securing each part: armored boots, thigh plates, gauntlets, and the reinforced chest piece. I apologized twice for my cold hands, though the soft chuckles from Seraphina made me think she wasn’t too sorry for me.

  When the final clips were secured, I pulled out a rich black cape from the second box. It fastened at her collar and fell dramatically down her back, bearing a simple sigil: a gear crossed by a sword.

  “The cape was my idea,” Seraphina said with a smirk. “Figured you needed something to distract them from that messy hair.”

  Allira barked a laugh and reached up to ruffle my hair even worse. “She’s not wrong,” she added, grinning as I batted her hand away. Lastly, the helmet. Sleek and aerodynamic, made from the same deep orange material with tinted lenses and smooth plating along the crown. I handed it to her as if it were a crown.

  Mage Valen stepped closer, frowning. “Why orange? I’ve never seen armor painted that shade.”

  Seraphina spoke before I could. “It’s not painted.”

  Valen leaned closer. Her eyes widened. “Wait, this isn’t steel. And it’s not mithril either.” She touched the surface. “By the Gods, it’s warm to the touch.”

  “No,” I said calmly, “it’s better than mithril.”

  Valen’s mouth opened, then closed again. Her mind raced behind her wide eyes. Then it hit her. “You didn’t,” she whispered. “Tell me this isn’t…”

  “It is,” I said. “I tell you, making this put me over what I needed to reach level 30 in blacksmithing. And if you stick with us, Mage Valen, you’re going to see a lot of strange things.”

  Before she could respond, Allira moved in close, her new armor catching the light as she pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss that left no doubt. Her lips were warm, and her hands were firm on my shoulders. When we broke apart, I chuckled and pulled her into an embrace.

  “You look perfect,” I whispered to her.

  She smirked. “You’d better remember that tonight.”

  Allira turned to return to her duties, and I reached out and smacked that round ass before it got out of reach. She turned and gave me the most devilish grin I have ever seen from that woman. But I love it.

  “Master, my analysis is that you slap Lady Allira’s ass twelve percent more often than Lady Seraphina’s.”

  “Twelve percent?” Seraphina raised an eyebrow. “Am I getting neglected, love?”

  I grinned and leaned over to kiss her lips softly. “I’ll need to make up for it later, won’t I?”

  Her smile, radiant and sly, was all the answer I needed.

  I straightened and turned to Allyson. “How feasible is it to gather some components from the tower itself?”

  “Master, the required parts are in various storerooms in the tower,” she replied without hesitation.

  I turned back to Seraphina and offered my hand. “Care to join us?”

  She took it with grace, rising from her chair. “Of course. Someone has to make sure you don’t get lost in a maze of gears and glitter.”

  Out on the forge floor, we found Allira speaking with a blacksmith. “We’re heading to the tower,” I told her.

  Allira nodded and quickly gathered herself, Mage Valen falling in behind. A detachment of city guards moved with us until we reached the black monolith’s base. The streets had quieted in the tower’s shadow, though workers and soldiers still gave wary glances toward its dark stone walls.

  As we approached the entrance of the tower, the massive door let out a low groan, creaking open as if the tower itself was aware of our presence. Onlookers turned to watch as the door yawned open, revealing the silent vastness beyond.

  Inside, the chamber’s familiar stillness greeted us, the high ceilings arching above, the sweet scent of something between ozone and warm bread. As the last of our party stepped through, the door sealed behind us with a resounding, resonant thud.

  Mage Valen turned in place, her jaw slack. “By the stars, this place is alive.”

  I turned to Allyson. “Where can we find the components?”

  She responded immediately. “Storage sectors. Levels 27 through 29.”

  We crossed the main hall and stepped into what appeared to be a large cylindrical shaft. With a faint hum, the elevator ascended, the walls around us shifting in color and light. Glass panels revealed glimpses of strange floors, workshops, libraries, and rooms filled with floating diagrams and glowing tools.

  On Level 28, we disembarked. The storage hall was vast, dimly lit with hovering lights, and rows of shelves extended farther than the eye could follow. Strange mechanical arms moved silently in the distance, tending to the tower’s inventory.

  After a methodical search made easier by Allyson’s guidance, we found what we needed: a series of crystalline cores, a nest of coiled alloy cables, and a large sealed case of unknown components stamped with runes I didn’t yet recognize.

  With everything accounted for, I turned to head back to the elevator, but Seraphina’s voice stopped me.

  “Allyson,” she said, “where is the Tower Master’s residence?”

  Allyson didn’t miss a beat. “Uppermost level. Residential suite is intact and fully operational.”

  Seraphina grinned. “Change of destination, then.”

  The elevator took us to the very top. As the doors opened, we stepped into a corridor lined with soft lighting, metallic trim, and tall windows with sweeping views of the kingdom below. At the end of the hall, ornate double doors stood waiting.

  Allyson stepped forward and placed her hand on a glowing panel. The doors opened with a whisper.

  Inside was a suite that could have belonged to royalty, with elegant furnishings, fine rugs, a fireplace, and a glass wall that looked out over the entire city. I wandered to the window and stood in silence. From here, I could see everything: Mage’s Cathedral, the sprawling market districts, and even the towers of the royal castle in the distance.

  “It’s beautiful,” Allira murmured behind me.

  Seraphina opened a side door and gave a pleased laugh. “This bath is enormous! Allyson, does it still function?”

  “Yes, Lady Seraphina. Fully operational. Water temperature is adjustable.”

  “Perfect. Fill it.” Seraphina turned and grabbed Allira’s hand. “Come on. We deserve this.”

  Without another word, they disappeared into the adjoining room. Moments later, I followed, only to find them already halfway through undressing each other, laughing and playfully swatting at tangled straps.

  Allira turned to me with a smirk. “You coming, or just going to stare?”

  I stripped out of my shirt and stepped toward them, their hands already reaching for mine. They helped me with the rest, exchanging glances and soft kisses between tugs and pulls of fabric. When we were all free of our clothes, the bath awaited us, steaming and inviting.

  As we sank into the warm water, Mage Valen stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, clutching her robe like a lifeline. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes wide.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, watching as I relaxed between two giggling women.

  Seraphina tilted her head with a smirk. “It’s just a bath.”

  Allira stretched, water glistening off her collarbone. “We’re married, not modest.”

  I raised a hand with a lazy grin. “I promise I’ll keep my eyes shut.”

  Valen looked between us, robe twitching in her grip.

  “You don’t have to,” I added. “But you’re welcome. I mean, I do own the place now.”

  Steam rose from the wide marble bath as the three of us settled deeper into the water. The warmth eased the ache in my muscles, and the scent of some spiced oil, maybe clove or ginger, floated in the air. Seraphina leaned against me with a satisfied sigh, while Allira reclined against the opposite ledge, her arms stretched out, eyes half-lidded with peace.

  Mage Valen stood just beyond the edge of the bath, robe still clutched tightly around her. Her eyes flicked toward the water, then toward the pile of neatly folded towels, then back to us.

  “You’re still dressed,” Seraphina teased gently. “That’s not how bathing works, mage.”

  Valen let out a reluctant grunt but finally muttered, “Fine,” under her breath. With a sharp breath through her nose, she turned her back to us and loosened the sash at her waist. The robe slipped from her shoulders in a slow cascade, revealing the toned lines of her athletic frame, with defined muscles beneath smooth, golden skin. The fabric pooled at her feet before she carefully gathered it up, folding it neatly and setting it on a nearby bench. Without a word, she stepped into the bath, her movements fluid and unhurried, like a dancer slipping into rhythm, with steam rising around her in veils.

  I tried not to stare, but I did. But it wasn’t just her body that caught my attention; it was the ink.

  As Valen relaxed into the bath, the water gently lapping at her thighs, my eyes were drawn to the intricate scrollwork etched across her skin. Fine lines in deep sapphire and light blue curled around her upper arms, then flowed down her chest in looping arcs that traced the curves of her breasts with precise symmetry. The same ink continued across her abdomen and cascaded down her outer thighs like an artist’s brush, with every rune and circle arranged in layered, interlocking patterns. The designs shimmered faintly in the steam, almost pulsing with concealed meaning.

  I blinked. “Valen, those tattoos. They’re magical?”

  She paused mid-step, halfway submerged, and turned slightly to glance at me over her shoulder. “You noticed?”

  “Hard not to.” I tilted my head, genuinely intrigued. “They’re beautiful. Functional, too?”

  She looked embarrassed for the first time, cheeks slightly darkened. “Yes. They’re mana channels. Arrays for shaping spells directly without casting circles. I focus on water manipulation, and these help me move energy more efficiently.”

  “Like having a permanent circuit etched into your skin?”

  Valen gave a slight nod, tucking wet hair behind her ear. “Exactly. The inner rings here,” she touched her forearm lightly, “amplify mana flow. The outer ones let me mold it on the fly.”

  “May I come closer?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and curious, without pressing.

  She hesitated for a breath, then gave a slow nod. “If you want.”

  I shifted through the water, careful not to splash, and took a seat beside her. Up close, the detail of the ink was even more stunning. Thin lines looped with mathematical precision, intersecting at radiant points like stars in a constellation. Some of the designs shimmered faintly under the bath’s steam mana-ink, probably.

  I reached out, letting my fingers hover an inch above her skin. “These sigils here look like water compression runes. You carry pressure-release valves on your arms?”

  She looked surprised. “You recognize that?”

  I smiled. “I built steam regulators that ran on similar logic back in my previous life.”

  Her curiosity deepened, and for a moment, her embarrassment faded. “According to legends, it was thought that Engineers were all theory. But you know, practical applications?”

  “I lived them.”

  A moment of silence passed between us. She briefly lowered her eyes, then looked back at me, now calmer and more open.

  “That’s fascinating,” she said quietly.

  Behind me, Seraphina cleared her throat. “David?”

  I turned to see both of my wives watching us. Amused? Teasing? Hard to say.

  “You can study the pretty mage’s tattoos later,” Allira said, reclining deeper into the bath. “Right now, this is our time.”

  Mage Valen chuckled under her breath and slid a bit farther into the water, hiding her blush beneath the surface.

  I leaned back and raised my hands. “Just admiring the craftsmanship.”

  “Sure you were,” Seraphina smirked.

  We all laughed, the warmth of the water and the moment easing the last edge of the day’s pressure.

  Archmages Vael and Veralt, along with Prime Minister Halbrecht of Ironholt, followed Guildmaster Verran out of the scorching heat of the Guild Forges and into the cooler reception hall of the Guild. The three men walked in contemplative silence, the scent of oil and steel still clinging to their robes.

  Vael broke the silence first, rubbing his temples. “Did you understand a single line of that diagram?”

  Veralt shook his head. “I was about to ask you the same.”

  Halbrecht glanced between the two archmages, eyebrows raised. “You’re telling me neither of you understood it?”

  Verran chuckled, resting a hand on the Prime Minister’s shoulder. “That was David. He makes things even he doesn’t fully understand until they’re already working.”

  All four men shared a good laugh, wary, intrigued, and perhaps a little uneasy.

  “I’ve got a lot of questions for the Earl once this rift situation is handled,” Veralt muttered, half to himself.

  Vael nodded in agreement and turned to him. “You’re not going back to Eldros tomorrow, then? I thought that was your plan.”

  “Changed it,” Veralt replied. “Halbrecht and I are both staying a few more days. We want some proper time to sit down with him.”

  Vael smiled faintly. “That’s just as well. Mage Valen’s High Mage test is within the week. I was thinking, if David’s willing, we might get him to speak with us. Pick that engineer’s brain of his.”

  “A week is nothing,” Veralt said. “We’d wait a month for a chance to speak with a real engineer.”

  Verran gave a knowing nod. “Then it’s settled. After the rift is closed, we’ll make time. David Robertson’s just getting started.”