It's strong, stronger than most of this pack could muster, and even most of the visitors.

But Jude has felt stronger. Twice.

Once, in the form of another Sentinel. An easygoing man with a warm smile and a way of making you forget he's there at all.

And once, in the form of a four-year-old girl who sings softly to flowers, who grasps Jude's hands silently when she sees him, looks up at him with her big babydoll eyes. Who smiles so easily, loves so readily despite all the ways she's been hurt.

Jude grips down on Mobius's hand and lets the flow rush past him, and does not allow himself to be a part of it to be pushed away. He sees so much in those glimpses, in the whispers of memories. Things that shouldn't be possible in a world without magic, and yet-

"You're a psychic," he says, simply. "No wonder."