Zane looked at his watch. These days it was only used for estimating time. Zane didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, didn't even know how long he'd been trapped in this realm. Monitoring time had become meaningless to him now.
It had been around five hours since his meeting with the council. For a gentlet, nearly a day was over.
He closed his eyes and savored the moment. He expected Lady Sylvia to arrive at any moment. Zane was seated comfortably on his recliner chair, his legs resting on the footstool.
I really want her here now. Though I know I'll freeze when she arrives... Still, can't stop myself from yearning for her arrival.
Zane was still buzzing with excitement after traveling by hovercraft. Even in his wildest dreams, he never thought he'd one day be traveling in such a vehicle.
To Zane, it was ironic how a medieval-looking city that seemed straight out of history books could have such futuristic vehicles. Even Nexus City didn't have the technological advancement to craft such marvelous machines.
Still, that wasn't more breathtaking than the area he currently resided in. Zane had thought he was going to be provided with a simple house with adequate space.
Instead, Zane found himself dwelling within a monument to opulence that defied all reasonable expectations. The manor sprawled across manicured grounds like a sleeping giant of architectural grandeur, its Victorian sensibilities magnified to almost theatrical proportions. Towering spires pierced the sky with gothic arrogance, their intricate stonework carved by hands that understood the language of magnificence. Every window was a masterpiece framed in ornate moldings, each one large enough to dwarf a common man's doorway.
The entrance hall alone could have housed an entire family comfortably, its vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadows high above, supported by marble columns that seemed to mock the very concept of modesty. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen fireworks, their countless facets catching and scattering light into rainbow fragments across walls adorned with tapestries that whispered of forgotten nobility. The floors were a symphony of polished marble and rich mahogany, creating patterns so complex they resembled works of art meant to be admired rather than walked upon.
Countless rooms branched off from endless corridors, each one a testament to excess—libraries with shelves that stretched toward impossibly high ceilings, drawing rooms furnished with velvet and gold, ballrooms vast enough to host royal gatherings. Every surface gleamed with immaculate care, every corner appointed with furnishings that belonged in museums rather than homes. It was a place where echoes had echoes, where solitude felt both intimate and overwhelming—a cathedral of domestic luxury that made Zane feel simultaneously like a king and an intruder.
---
Still, the place was eerily silent. There was no one inside except Zane and Fridger—who had somehow become his personal guard.
Zane had chosen a grand room on the second floor to rest in. He didn't want to be found. He was hiding from Lady Sylvia and didn't want to meet her. He now regretted his decision to demand her as his assistant.
Yet he also anticipated and wanted to see her badly.
Zane was caught in a dilemma: he was terrified of seeing Lady Sylvia, yet he was also eager to see her once again.
Clink-ting, clank-tang.
The sound of metal hitting onyx echoed outside the room.
That's probably Fridger looking for me. Hehe. I don't want to be found—that's why I hid in this room. They'd have to search every room to find me. With how massive this manor is, I bet it would take forever before they could locate me.
Zane smiled when he heard the sound. He had strategically told Fridger that he wanted to explore what was going to be his place of residence. Fridger had offered to guide him, but Zane had politely declined. He then decided to choose a random room on the second floor to hide in.
Zane closed his eyes again and continued to savor the moment. There was something spectacular about life, especially when it was dramatic.
When Zane's father was hospitalized, Zane started losing meaning in life. He began seeing life as nothing but a big lie—all about finding happiness with what one had, or losing oneself in despair from desperation. Money? Power? Those were just validations.
Zane started seeing himself in other people. He began understanding how humans functioned. He could only describe people as the simplest beings he knew, yet these same simple people were infinitely complex.
The complex parts were their ways of thinking, emotions, and reactions. Then came the simple parts. If one understood the complexity of human beings, then they would be able to predict how they think, how emotions influence them, and how they react to different circumstances.
Humans always acted within certain predictable patterns. Still, there were humans who never acted within these lines.
Zane always thought of humans as mirrors. They observe other people's behavior and mannerisms, and if they find something interesting or appealing, they try adopting it if it's within their capability. Then they assimilate the behavior or mannerism, making it their own in their original way. Humans are mirrors in terms of manner and behavior.
The different ones are those who painted over their mirror with behavior and mannerisms of their choosing, acting as they liked. These are mostly the ones who inspire the mirrors. They act as they please—not to seek validation from others, but simply because they can. These are the ones who realize they can do as they please with their lives, understanding that there is no higher being controlling their life, that their destiny isn't predetermined.
They understand that life is simply probability of events. Humans have the power to shift probability in their favor and can do as they want. They are not under some divine rule or control; life wasn't a novel written by fate or religion. The only laws that truly mattered were those of physics, since they affected their lives directly. Human laws were just constructs that could be exploited and wielded against those beneath them. Still, these laws proved useful against humans who'd been broken by life and started acting like shattered dolls. But human laws could be evaded through intelligence, unlike physical laws.
These are the same people who bind the mirrors through manipulation. They can adopt fake mannerisms or behaviors for others to mirror, then use that assimilated behavior against the person copying them.
Zane could always control and manipulate people, but that felt petty. Controlled people were just puppets who lacked any will to act independently. Zane didn't like puppets—they were simply boring, always acting within predictable lines, seeking validation, trying to please others.
Zane always preferred when people acted of their own will and accord. Sometimes they would do something interesting and unexpected. Zane treasured these tiny details about life—when a human fights for revenge or love. These were the interesting moments that made life worth living.
Zane also believed there were levels of puppeteering, and that a person could puppet themselves. Actually, most of the time—unless brainwashed—a person always puppeted themselves. Others simply studied them, understood how they functioned, then used those strings against them.
Zane had identified one form of self-puppeteering within himself. He had many, but only this one bothered him: fear of women. Zane logically knew that women weren't dangerous in any conceivable way—they were just humans like himself. But whenever approached by one, especially beautiful ones, he would freeze in a mixture of fear and awe.
Zane categorized puppeteering into three levels, though this wasn't entirely accurate:
The first level was when a person puppeted themselves through meaningless beliefs used for self-validation—the lowest level of puppeteering.
Then came being partially puppeted by others through control and relationships that bound them. A person could be controlled by another, either knowingly or unknowingly. People influence each other constantly. While most humans manipulate each other unconsciously, there are instances where someone understands human behavior and mannerisms, then weaponizes that knowledge.
These first two levels mostly weren't critical or dangerous. Then came the third and most perilous level—brainwashing.
A brainwashed person was completely puppeted by others and lacked their own will. These were people whose spirits had been utterly extinguished. This was the highest and most dangerous level of puppeteering.
Even though Zane had lost all meaning in life, it remained interesting and entertaining to live. Zane had come to appreciate dramatic moments—they made life worthwhile. Like now: Fridger was busy searching for him throughout the vast manor while Zane savored the moment, even hearing him pass by. Zane knew Fridger was looking for him but never revealed himself.
The irony wasn't lost on him. Here he was, philosophizing about human behavior and control, yet he couldn't even manage his own reaction to a beautiful woman. He understood the mechanisms of fear and attraction intellectually, could analyze them like a scientist studying specimens, but when it came to actually facing Lady Sylvia, all that knowledge crumbled into useless theory.
Maybe that's what makes us human, he thought.
The gap between understanding something and actually doing it. Between knowing what's rational and feeling what's real.
He'd spent so much time observing others, cataloging their patterns and weaknesses, that he'd become something of an expert on human nature. Yet he was still just as trapped by his own nature as anyone else. The observer was also the observed, the analyzer was also the analyzed.
Still, there was a vast difference between understanding beliefs and controlling behaviors. Zane understood human nature perfectly, yet he could never fully utilize that knowledge. He couldn't even control himself—how could he control others? But the information still proved useful in certain circumstances—
A soft creak interrupted his thoughts. Not the heavy metallic sounds of Fridger's armor, but something subtler. The whisper of a door opening on well-oiled hinges.
Zane's eyes snapped open, his philosophical musings evaporating instantly. His heart began to race as he realized he'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard approaching footsteps.
The door to his chosen hiding place swung open with deliberate slowness.
Zane immediately froze when he saw who entered.
Before him stood Fridger, his helmet tucked under his arm, his blue face wearing an expression that might have been amusement. Beside him, helmet also removed, stood Lady Sylvia herself.
Her crystalline blue hair caught the light streaming through the tall windows, and those deep purple-flecked eyes found his immediately. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and just like before, his brain seemed to shut down at the sight of her.
So much for understanding human nature, was his last coherent thought as his carefully constructed philosophy crumbled in the face of a pair of stunning blue eyes.