The Imperial delegation retired immediately after the gala, but sleep was a distant, forgotten luxury. Back in the heavily guarded private suite, the air was cold and clinical, illuminated only by the focused beam of a lamp over a hastily procured map of the Sovereign capital.
Vaelorian looked across the table at Riven, his voice a low, urgent thought in Riven's mind:Whatever charm he's using is dangerous, Riven. He's too polished, too practiced. We must move on that tower tonight.
Riven's mental reply was immediate and grounded:Agreed, Your Highness. His smile felt like a shield. I managed to gently touch the mind of a maid—she knows the estate layout and confirmed the tower is locked down at night. Total security perimeter.
Riven then spoke aloud, his voice cutting through the tension. "Willow? Can you pinpoint its location?"
Willow, perched at a temporary desk, didn't hesitate. Her Gift of speed meant she had already processed Princess Lyra's vague description against every map and survey she had access to.
"Princess Lyra's observation about the seclusion was the key," Willow explained, tapping a point on the map. "It's not marked on public charts—he keeps it private—but it's clearly visible in these old geological surveys. It's an isolated stone column on a rise overlooking the sea, about three miles from the main manor. It's an ancient, pre-Sovereign architecture, likely originally used for signaling."
"Signal towers are perfect for communication and privacy," Vaelorian noted, his gaze fixed on the map. He excused himself, stepping away, instantly tapping into Willow's speed to run a quick, complex internal simulation of the infiltration route and possible countermeasures. It was like living an hour of planning in a single, silent second.
When Vaelorian was done, he settled his mind, sending the final command telepathically:The distance is too great for a full team. We send two first. Barron, you go inside. You are our eyes and ears. Willow, you stay by the door and provide an escape route if needed.
"Understood," Barron responded, already melting toward the shadow of the curtain. His face was grim, focused on the transition. "I will need fifteen minutes to monitor the patrol behavior around the manor before I shift. I can't afford to be spotted by the Sovereign guards. They are too uniform, too efficient for a quick disguise."
"I can help with surveillance," Anya offered, concentrating. Her fingers twitched, coaxing her Nature Control. "The moss and vines on the exterior walls of Valerius's estate are thick. I can coax a few tendrils to reach the base of the tower and alert me to any sudden electrical shifts or physical movement. It's subtle, but effective—my own silent alarm system."
"That's good. And I'll maintain a light connection to Barron," Vaelorian stated, his hand resting on Riven's shoulder. "If he runs into trouble he can't signal, I will know immediately and alert the rest of you."
Under the cover of a cold, moonless night, Willow and Barron moved. Willow, using her incredible speed, was a dark, swift blur through the sparse foliage, reaching the three miles in minutes. Barron followed moments later, a shadow that flowed into the form of a low-ranking, slightly scruffy Sovereign guard who knew the estate's blind spots.
Barron reached the base of the tower first. It was ancient, thick basalt stone, radiating a deep, unnatural cold, sealed by a single, heavily reinforced iron door. He immediately confirmed Lyra's intelligence—it was locked tight and guarded by a hidden security detail.
Barron (Telepathy) to Vaelorian: Two guards, concealed in the rock line. No visual contact. The lock is heavy, Your Highness. A massive solenoid—it could stop a tank.
Vaelorian (Telepathy) to Willow: Willow, can you handle the lock quietly?
Willow, hidden behind a large rock, was already at the tower's access panel. Her Gift meant complicated wiring and mechanisms were child's play.
"Affirmative," she responded, her voice tight with concentration. "It's electronic, but predictable. Give me ninety seconds to bypass the circuit board. Barron, cover the concealed guards. Don't engage unless necessary."
Barron moved into position, a motionless silhouette against the rock face. Willow's hands became a blur over the lock panel, the faint, metallic clicks inaudible above the wind. In less than a minute, the heavy solenoid was released with a controlled thunk.
Barron slipped inside, Willow standing guard outside. Barron immediately shifted his eyes back to their normal state to better assess the environment. The interior was a shocking contrast to the ancient stone exterior.
It was a factory.
The circular stone walls were lined with humming, high-tech equipment—massive, customized machines unlike anything the Imperial labs possessed. Coils glowed with low, eerie blue light , and thick, specialized cables ran everywhere, snaking into a central, rotating sphere of raw, uncut crystal. The air smelled of burnt ozone and something sharp, almost sterile.
Barron (Telepathy) to Vaelorian: Whoa! I'm going to need Willow in here, Your Highness. I'm not sure what I'm looking at. This isn't a signal tower; it's a generator with a central crystal and all. It looks like it cost an Empire.
Vaelorian gave them the go-ahead: Be careful, both of you. Willow, analyze that central crystal.
Willow darted inside, her Gift allowing her mind to process the environment at an accelerated rate. She moved through the equipment, her eyes analyzing the labels and technical specifications—all written in a complex, coded Sovereign dialect.
"Riven, Vaelorian, this is not for communication," she spoke out loud, her tone hushed with awe and fear. "It's amplification equipment. And it's not transmitting energy, it's focusing it. This central crystal sphere is designed to broadcast a specific, directed mental frequency across a wide area. It's a sonic weapon, but for the mind."
Barron moved closer to the crystal sphere, noting the strange, organic appearance of the cables feeding into it. "There are chemical vats here, too," Barron observed, pointing with his chin. "And tubes running from the vats into the wiring. Looks like a constant feed of some kind of nutrient, thick and oily."
Anya, back in the suite, suddenly gasped, clutching her head.
Anya (Telepathy) to Vaelorian: Your Highness? The metallic hum I sensed earlier? It's coming from here! It's overwhelming the natural systems in a ten-mile radius. The chemical nutrient... it smells toxic, yet strangely stimulating. This is forcing something unnatural to live!
Riven's face was pale as he listened to the combined report.
Riven (Telepathy) to the team: Guys, I read about this in the banned texts. The equipment is meant to amplify an individual's Gift. In his case, influence others. He did some changes This is why Lyra's people forget things. This is why he's too composed. Valerius is using this machine to saturate the capital with an amplified form of mind control. It's a weapon.
Vaelorian, back in the suite, gripped Riven's hand, the implications sickeningly clear. Valerius wasn't just after the Princess; he was attempting to seize control of the entire Sovereign Empire through slow, quiet mental saturation—a silent, creeping coup.
Vaelorian (Telepathy) to Willow/Barron (Urgent): Get out of there now! The equipment is dangerous. Willow, grab one of those specialized nutrient cables. We need Anya to analyze the chemical makeup. Barron, leave no trace. Leave now!
The discovery was worse than they had feared. Grand Duke Valerius wasn't a compromised noble; he was a methodical, terrifying operator with the engine of a nation's submission running beneath his feet.