"Liar. I think you knew,"
There was no accusation in her tone—only certainty.
Zaeryn hesitated. Then, deciding that a partial truth might sting less than a lie, he exhaled slowly. "Yeah… I might have known. But if I left that out, it's because I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being sliced open in some lab."
Daphne's lips curved into a grin, sharp as broken glass. "Aw… already tired of my tests?" she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
Lysara's expression didn't change—if anything, it hardened. Her lips thinned to a single cold line. "A convenient omission," she said softly, and then she moved.
She rose without hurry, circling the desk like a stalking predator, each step measured, precise. The air in the room tightened with her presence as she came to stand in front of him. Her shadow fell across his face, sharp as a blade. "You made me give you my word," she said, her tone dangerously even. "No more tests. No more labs. A bold demand for someone who just revealed himself to be the single most disruptive biological anomaly in recorded history."
Zaeryn's eyes snapped to hers. 'Wait… she's still considering honoring that promise? Even after I lied?'
"You did what?!" Daphne's voice cracked like a whip, her composure slipping for the first time. She whirled on Lysara, shock flashing across her features. "You promised to let him go?! Are you out…. ?" She immediately paused as she realized she was about to step out of line with her words. But her voice vibrated with barely leashed outrage.
The only reason she'd gone rogue with her tests was to keep him here—to make sure she got her hands on him. She wanted him. Needed him. As her science project, of course. But now? Now the High Commander was talking about setting him free? No. Absolutely not. "This is insane. He's a genetic revolution wrapped in skin. I think it's a catastrophic risk to let him walk out of here!"
Lysara, ever the calm commander, responded. "I'm with you, on that he should be studied more Daphne, but…." She paused, "I've been ordered to let him go."
Daphne froze, blinking as if she'd misheard. "You've been… ordered?" The word dripped with disbelief. "By whom? The Council hasn't even convened!"
Zaeryn's head tilted, curiosity sparking. Ordered? By who? From everything he'd seen, Lysara didn't take orders—she gave them. So who would give her orders? And why would she listen to them, especially when they involved a world changing situation like this?
Lysara's face remained carved from stone. "That's classified."
"Classified?" Daphne's voice pitched low, a dangerous tremor in it. "You're telling me someone overruled you on a matter like this? That's not just irregular, High Commander—that's impossible."
Zaeryn's thoughts churned, sharp as blades. It was indeed impossible to overrule a high commander, because she probably had more powers than the commander and all other council members here combined. So that meant— either Lysara was lying, which was unlikely, or someone outside the council with more power was pulling strings. which was also unlikely.
'Let's pretend someone is pulling strings,' he thought, 'But why would they want me out? and who are they?"
Daphne took a step forward, her violet eyes blazing with the want to not the single most interesting subject leave. "With all due respect….. no, screw that—this is lunacy. You know what he is now. If he leaves this facility, we'll never control the fallout. Never." Her gaze snapped to Zaeryn like a predator spotting prey. "He is walking leverage. If anyone else gets to him—"
"Enough." Lysara's voice cracked through the tension like a whip, silencing the room. Calm, but laced with steel. "You forget yourself, Chief Scientist."
For a heartbeat, silence reigned, electric and heavy.
Then Lysara turned to Zaeryn, her eyes locking on his with a depth that made his pulse spike. "Get used to this, Mr. Noctis," she said softly, almost like a threat. "Your existence has shifted the balance of power. You will make enemies without even trying. And allies…" Her lips curved in the faintest, most dangerous smile. "Well. That depends on how smart you are."
Lysara turned away from Zaeryn and fixed her sharp eyes on Daphne. "And Daphne," she sighed, the weight of command heavy in her voice, "I want you to write a report."
She paused, letting the words hang in the sterile air before continuing. "State clearly that all tests on Zaeryn Noctis have been concluded. Your findings show that beyond his survival of the Fade and a few anomalies, there is nothing else unusual. Recommend his release to the Council without reservation.
Daphne stared at Lysara like she'd grown a second head. "You want me to… DO what?"
"File a report," Lysara repeated, her tone deceptively calm. "Make it clear that any further investigation is unnecessary and, officially, will not take place."
Daphne's jaw tightened, her fingers curling into fists. "You can't be serious." Her voice sharpened like glass. "That man is a biological paradigm shift. If the Council knew what I know—"
"They won't." Lysara's voice cut through like a blade, cold and final. "I expect you to keep everything we discussed here a secret. Tell your colleagues too, that what you found out about him in the lab is classified."Her golden eyes locked on Daphne's, daring her to keep pushing.
Daphne did. "No," she hissed, anger flaring hotter than fear. "Absolutely not. I am not putting my name on a lie that monumental. What the hell are you doing, Lysara? Who are you covering for? Him?" Her finger stabbed toward Zaeryn, who sat utterly still, masking his storm of thoughts behind a cool facade. "Or yourself?"
Lysara's silence was a loaded weapon.
"Fine," Daphne snapped, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "If you think you can bury this, you're wrong. I will take this to the Council myself. They deserve to know what we're dealing with. This—this changes everything. And if you—"
"Daphne." Lysara's tone didn't rise, but it hit like a shockwave, making the air feel heavier. Her eyes burned with a molten edge as she leaned forward, each syllable sharp as a blade. "If you speak one word of this outside this room, you'll be in violation of a directive you cannot afford to cross."
Daphne froze mid-step, confusion flickering into her fury. "Directive?" she echoed, bitter laughter bubbling up. "What directive could possibly justify hiding something like this?"
Lysara exhaled slowly, her voice lowering to a deadly whisper. "One that outranks the Council. One that came directly from his mother." She dropped the word, looking at Zaeryn before adding, "Zaeryn is not just an anomaly. He is of royal blood, the son of princess Athea."
"Wait, Athea gave the order?" Zaeryn was lost for words. His mind reeled. Princess Athea? His mother? The woman who had, by all accounts, cast him aside, exchanged him like a piece of property? The revelation hit him like a physical blow, The world tilted on its axis. He didn't imagine, that she would reach out and help, especially after Ysmeine said she was not responding to her messages.
Meanwhile, the most shocked of them all, was Daphne. Her furious gaze snapped back to Zaeryn, then to Lysara, her violet eyes wide with utter disbelief. Her eyes were wide for a moment, soundlessly, the monumental implications of Lysara's words rendering her, for the first time, completely speechless.
Never had she ever even entertained that idea. Zaerryn was of royal blood? It was an absurdity, a paradox that violated every tenet of their history.
Lysara watched their reactions, a grim satisfaction in her red eyes. The tension that had coiled around them for minutes now snapped, replaced by a stunned silence.
"Yes," Lysara confirmed, her voice now devoid of any pretense of persuasion, heavy with the weight of ancient authority. "The directive came from Princess Athea herself. And her word, in matters of her bloodline, is absolute. No one, not the Council, not even I, can override it."