"It's Mark," he said. "Something's wrong. His mental scape took damage earlier. You're a male Zerg. You can soothe him... please, your excellency."
'I might have killed a person accidentally,' Jinyue thought. He might have been the one to cause said mental attack unintentionally; beyond a doubt, his power had attacked something. The earlier argument had already been forgotten by then due to the consistent knocking.
"Are you there, your excellency? I've looked all over the ship; time is running out."
As he was busy weighing his options. The door promptly unlocked courtesy of Cody, who was given the dirtiest look Jinyue could muster. The argument wasn't over yet, and Cody seemed to be against him.
Collin kept on muttering and begging for help from Jinyue. Is this how desperation operated? To have someone care about you this much? He wouldn't know; he had never experienced it after all, maybe as Jin'ar, and those memories seemed so far yet close at the same time.
But Jinyue couldn't shake the unease. Why this blind faith in his soothing powers? Untrained male Zerg were more likely to worsen mental corruption than heal it. The knowledge he had was limited, but one thing was clear: a male Zerg's influence could be as destructive as it was healing, depending on skill and intent. So why…
His thoughts scattered as a rough grip seized his wrist, dragging him back toward the very chambers he'd fled. For someone who revered male Zerg like idols, this female handled him with unexpected roughness. Jinyue bit back a snarl, wrestling down the urge to retaliate for the indignity. He settled with swishing his tail angrily instead.
They reached the room where Jinyue forced Collin to slow down and let him go with a rather indifferent tone, simply saying, "You're hurting me."
His hand was promptly let go. The apology that followed, if it could be called that, was perfunctory. A shove between his shoulder blades sent him stumbling forward. Such ungratefulness. His tail puffed up just a bit more in outrage.
Jinyue's heart rate increased slightly; he felt tense all over, just wondering what mess he might have made. At the same time, he felt undeniably curious and confused. Hadn't they sensed his power? Was this some sort of trap intricately designed for him? After realising, especially with how aberrant he was, could it be it was all a ruse…but for what?
He almost closed his eyes childishly as he stepped into the room so as not to see the damage caused. He turned the corner of the small hallway entry…
Huh!?
Jinyue's eyebrows furrowed. Was this not the man supposed to be in critical condition? Why is he conscious?
Suddenly, the air felt heavier as the man's eyes met his. He had a calm look on his face. He seemed confused yet grateful… Grateful for what?
Collin's bewilderment mirrored his own. None of this made sense.
A faint smile touched his mouth as Rin murmured, "Thank you."
Jinyue's pulse spiked.
What did I do?
********
What did you do?... Lan.
Kaerin knew that such a day would come. There's only so much his SS+ class physique could take before getting significant mental damage and corruption without a soother. It had been two months, with the constant back-to-back missions. So, when the attack finally hit, it wasn't a surprise. But it was worse than every migraine he'd endured before.
He had lived for months in the asymptomatic stage, ignoring the tremors, the headaches, and the flashes of heat and cold. He had told himself it was manageable. Fatigue. Nothing more.
With multiple attacks from the insect queen, he knew his situation would soon turn serious due to the mental damage inflicted. Even with all his confidence and bravado, it was still worrying. Now, he had skyrocketed right into stage two of corruption. Such an attack was the most obvious tell.
He came to slowly; his mind felt bruised. Every attempt to focus sent small ripples of static pain through his mental scape; his body felt heavy. He knew that sensation too well. It meant the damage had not passed; he was still compromised, even worse than before.
He tried to remember what had happened before with effort. Something strange had happened in the midst of it all, miraculous even. That familiar sense of intrusion that did not feel like his own thoughts. It had not felt like an emergency measure. It had not forced him back with brute strength the way artificial stabilisers did. It spread through his mental scape with calm precision, settling into the unstable structures and holding them in place. The noise receded. The pressure eased enough for him to breathe again. He was temporarily out of danger.
High-class male Zerg influence could pull a mind back from the edge at stage one with minimal contact. Stage two was different. It demanded time, sustained focus, and careful restraint. Failure at that level often damaged both parties.
What Kaerin had felt had lasted only a moment. Yet it had been enough to stop the collapse. That alone was extraordinary. He had known who it was the instant the presence touched him.
Lan.
There had been no doubt. Lan's mental signature carried weight without aggression, control without strain. Kaerin had felt it once before, fleetingly, on the first day they met. Even before seeing him. Faint, restrained, unmistakable. This time, it had wrapped around Kaerin's damaged scape with unsettling accuracy, as if it understood the structure intimately. The corruption had retreated faster than any recorded intervention Kaerin knew of.
The realisation sent a sharp spark of interest through him.
Was it odd that he now wanted to fight him even more?
When he finally opened his eyes, he took some time to adjust to the brightness. He then looked around, but Lan wasn't around. He tamped down the disappointment he felt. He didn't know why he felt disappointed. There was no reason Lan should have remained after all. Still, the room felt odd.
The room was quieter than it should have been. Medical equipment hummed softly. The light felt too bright. His senses prickled at the edges, overstimulated in that telltale way.
He noticed then that Verrik was gone as well.
Only Mantis stood near the side of the bed, posture rigid, arms crossed tight against his chest. His expression was sharp, irritation etched deep enough to mask something else. His gaze was locked on Kaerin's hands.
Kaerin followed it.
The black discolouration that had crept along his fingertips was less than what was expected. The veins beneath his skin turned dark, too. Mantis ceased abruptly once Kaerin noticed.
"What happened?" Kaerin rasped.
Mantis clicked his tongue. "You tell me, "One second you were talking to us; the next, you're gone."
Kaerin studied his hands again, flexing his fingers. They moved without resistance. Without pain even, incredible.
"Lan was here," Kaerin said. He did not phrase it as a question, not even bothering to look at Mantis's constipated expression.
Mantis snapped his head up. "What, no?"
"He wasn't even near here," Mantis continued, agitation kicking in. "Verrik went to look for him for help."
Kaerin stared at him, disbelief creeping in around the edges of his calm. "You didn't feel anything."
Mantis frowned. "Feel what?"
"Mental energy," Kaerin said. "Lan soothed me?"
Kaerin knew what he had felt. The precision and control. It had not been a panic response. It felt powerful, and it had not been his own mind compensating. Only he had sensed it, it seemed. Then that meant…
Mantis hesitated, suspicion sharpening. "The male's," he muttered, then louder, "No. Nothing. If you're the only one who felt it, then that's not normal. That kind of output…" His jaw tightened. "That puts him beyond S-class."
The spiral began.
"SS+ mental capacity," Mantis said sharply. "Unregistered. Unaccounted for. Pretty much against all we know. That's not a coincidence, right? No male that strong stays hidden for no reason. He's dangerous."
He started pacing. "We need to detain him now."
Kaerin clutched his head with a groan, letting tension leak into his posture.
"Ugh…"
Mantis was by his side in a second. He shoved a cup into his hands with unnecessary force. "Drink. You're dehydrated."
Kaerin accepted it, eyes calculating over the rim as he drank.
"Don't look at me like that," Mantis muttered. "You scared the hell out of everyone."
"Thank you," he said. "I'm a bit better."
Mantis scoffed and turned away. "Stop being reckless."
Kaerin lowered the cup, expression settling into something neutral and controlled.
"Mantis," he said calmly. "Forget what I said earlier. It didn't happen."
Mantis stiffened.
"I think," Kaerin continued, "I hallucinated it."
The lie slid into place smoothly.
Mantis stared at him, worry and suspicion warring behind irritation. Hallucinations were a known symptom of stage two. It was an answer that made sense.
Eventually, he nodded.
Kaerin did not feel relief.
Lying about corruption symptoms was not something he took lightly. It was dangerous. Strategically unsound. And a breach of trust to his friends. But allowing Mantis to act on the truth would have consequences Kaerin was not sure they were ready to face.
Lan had not been there physically. Where was he then? Was he so powerful to do it in another location of the ship… No way. Or did he eavesdrop on their briefing meeting?