Wyatt walked over and reached for the new beer with a smile, tipping it up in thanks towards the sentient being that was the Archives. Opening it, he took a much needed pull from the cool liquid, brow pushing forward in concentration as Pen read from her father's journal. His heart strained at hearing his old mentor's words. Alfred was always looking out to protect not only his biological daughter, but Wyatt himself. He didn't tell the old man how much he appreciated him enough. He did wish the keeper would've passed the truth of his bloodline onto him anyway. Wyatt would've shared that burden if he'd been allowed. He'd have done anything that man wanted him to.

His tongue rolled forward slowly on his lips in thought before parting slightly in surprise at her realization. "Talk about the long game," he replied with disgust. Wyatt supposed if whoever it was behind this had forced Penelope to unlock the Archives, there were too many variables at play. First, she could lock down the building into full security mode once they were inside with her. Her safety didn't so much matter in the end. She'd give her life to keep this place protected. Second, even if they did something like try and come for Wyatt as a bargaining chip to make her do what they wanted, it would still be the same; He would tell her to keep the Archives safe, his life be damned. In fact, he didn't even have to say it. It was just understood. No one's life was more valuable than what was kept within these walls.

Getting her pregnant could seem a viable road if not a seriously prolonged one. Gaining her trust now or even having the helm got them access inside. A start to learning the Archives secrets. Then a baby would be an extension of the bloodline, Penelope not being needed anymore if they so chose. The kid was simply a key to get in. His stomach was suddenly not glad for pizza as it turned with the revelations.

"So, what's the play then?" he asked, pushing against the trickle of dread creeping in. "Where do we start looking for whoever is playing at being Abraxos?" Wyatt leaned forward on the heavy desk, beer still in hand. "Old business partners? Maybe some of his properties..." He didn't want to go to Clarissa. In fact, he wanted to keep all of this as far away as possible from her. "Maybe the journals will have some more clues on where to start." Reaching over, he grabbed the next one on top of the pile. A deep blue leather bound journal with lightly spotted deckled pages. The diviner remembered seeing the old man writing in it specifically in his study causing a soft smile to form. 

Wyatt sat in a nearby leather chair and kicked his feet up on the heavy wooden table, surrendering to the idea that they might be reading for a while. "We might need more food."

The words on the page began to blur. Wyatt rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, a yawn slipping out. They'd been at it for hours now and there was nothing that was pointing them into a definitive direction yet. Not that he minded reading the thoughts of his mentor. His emotions were poured out across these pages, ranging from everything a person could feel throughout their years on this plane. Even longer for a diviner like Winston. Especially one that undoubtedly had extended his life passed the normal span of their kind before sacrificing himself. Wyatt had ridden those emotions along with the old man, realizing how much regret he'd held when it came to his daughter.

Pen's words broke through the fog of his tired mind and he sat up in the chair, the cracked leather protesting while he straightened his posture. A message for him? The deep emerald green journal he held was put to the wayside while he stood and walked over to Penelope. His hues cast down to the key she held aloft in her palm. It was foreign to him. "My room?" he repeated back the words that had been scrawled into the pages she read from. "I've been to his room." Wyatt's head turned slightly, eyes darting back and forth while he worked through the message. 

He'd been inside Winston's personal storage room a number of times. Of course he had. It had taken an embarrassing amount of pleading on Wyatt's part, but of course he'd wanted to get into his room. He was the Keeper of the diviner Archives. The cool shit he was bound to have in there had made Wyatt practically salivate with the chance of seeing. Alfred had loved every second of making him wait too, but once he was officially made into an apprentice, the door had opened for him at last. Weapons, artifacts, statues, and books. So. Many. Books. Wyatt had stayed in that room for hours. Days, even. He'd made sure to see every single thing in that room from floor to ceiling.

Wyatt took the key when she offered it, staring at the unassuming metal like it would suddenly speak the answers they needed. He looked to her at the confession of never finding the room again after waking up in it. Her world changing forever. "A bedroom?" It didn't occur to him then what kind of room Winston was actually referring to. In fact, Wyatt had never been inside of the former keeper's bedroom before because there had never been need to. He of course knew Alfred was living in the Archives, but never had been to the man's personal quarters before.

The key warmed in his hand and his gaze fell to it again. It was the familiar feeling of magic thrumming on his skin. Perhaps it needed Wyatt's touch to activate the spell embedded in its metal because it lifted from his palm and began floating in the direction of the hall. His lips parted, quickly looking to Penelope with slightly wide eyes and a shrug before jogging after the key. It guided them through a few more halls before leading them to the small spiral staircase that went up to the observatory. Wyatt hadn't been up in the open space single room that had every wall lined with bookshelves besides the space taken up by a stone fireplace with a hearth as tall as him. There was a desk and scattered rugs over the wood floor with a couple of worn mismatched sofas and chairs, the enormous telescope that was aimed at the heavens sitting in the center of the room. 

As they entered, the varying candelabras on the shelves instantly came on, the soft light illuminating the space. It had been one of Wyatt's favorite places to sit and read. Especially when the night was clear and he opened the roof to let the stars in. He instinctively looked up at the ceiling remembering this, but the key didn't stop and went directly towards the fireplace. Following, the diviner watched as a small hole formed in the stone as the key came closer, but stopped short of going in. Wyatt reached out and took the key then, placing it inside the slot and turning with ease. The stones began to shift and an arch formed within the wall.

He took a hesitant step into the hidden room and just as the observatory, lights from candles automatically flickered on from their presence. "Clever bastard." Wyatt looked back to Penelope and smiled walking farther into the bedroom.