Museum Day
Wells didn’t exactly dress down for the Royal Ontario Museum, he was really dressed for a January day in Toronto, but he didn't care. Gold and black athletic gear, shoulders filling the doorway like a temporary exhibit of modern strength. He stepped past fossils older than time itself and smirked, history had been lifting long before anyone called it leg day.
He moved slow through the halls, reading plaques, admiring structure. Bones. Armor. Creatures built to survive their world. Wells respected that. Power wasn’t always loud. Sometimes it was preserved, studied, and admired centuries later.
In the dinosaur wing, he paused longer than expected. Massive frames. Thick legs. Built from the ground up. He nodded to himself. Same principles. Different era.
A few glances followed him—museum-goers pretending to study artifacts while sneaking looks at something far more… contemporary. Wells caught one in the reflection of a glass case and gave a knowing half-smile. Even in a museum, some exhibits draw more attention than others.
Culture matters. History matters. But strength? Strength always leaves an impression.
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