Location: Lyra's Private Dressing Suite
Time: T-minus 12 Hours
The wardrobe eased open with a soft hydraulic sigh, and a wash of cold light spilled across a row of custom gowns, deep wine reds, midnight blues, bare-shouldered halters to precision-slit sheaths.
Each one looked less like clothing, more like a carefully arranged collection of velvet traps. A translucent panel hovered beside the mirror,Fay's tactical styling suggestion, still glowing.
[Optimized Profile: Visual Capture + Psychological Curve Pressure + Soft Non-Threatening Scent Signature]
Below it, the matching details:
● Perfume: Tiziana Terenzi Andromeda , milk, musk, ambergris
● Jewelry: Gold-inset diamond cuff bracelet; single-cut square stud earrings; no rings, no necklace
● Hair: Side-parted curls, left side of the neck exposed
Lyra stood before the mirror, hair swept to the right, shoulders bare, skin pale against the polished steel of the room.Her eyes, however, held the exact stillness of a calculator screen mid-equation.She picked up the perfume bottle, spritzed her wrist, and dabbed the scent along her collarbone with the edge of a finger.
Then, without a word, she reached into the farthest end of the wardrobe and drew out the dress: Black. Sleeveless. High-slit.The fabric fell like midnight. The cut,like a blade.It clung, but didn't expose. It moved, but didn't soften.
Elegant. Sharp. Weaponized.
She slid into it in silence, drew the zipper up with a single practiced motion.By the time she faced the mirror again, the woman staring back wasn't just dressed, She was armed.Lyra crossed the room slowly and activated the terminal console.The image of Arthur Graves lit the screen: a side-profile mid-smile, but with eyes colder than steel. She stared at him for a long, measured moment. Then, slowly, her lips curled,not in mockery.
Not in admiration.In interest.The kind that came with standards.The kind reserved for rare prey.She murmured to the empty room, soft as silk over wire:"Let's see what you've got, Mr. All In."
Mulan stepped in, her eyes falling on Lyra by the window.She looks stunning,too stunning. But too composed.Just like a woman who's never needed a man in her life.
"You know you can't fake this kind of thing, right?"Her voice sliced clean through the low-light room like a blade drawn over steel.
"That man is a predator. He got the name "The Dallas Wolf" for a reason. You feed him lies and half truths; he won't be fooled. He'll rip you open to see what's underneath."
Lyra sat down on the deep-gray woven couch. Before her, a full wall of screens played Arthur Graves' silent tactical footage, commanding, firing, smirking, sipping Blanton's like a wolf that knew how to charm just before it bit.
Mulan picked up the remote and paused the footage, pulling up Fay's dossier on his previous bed partners.
"We ran full samples on them." She clicked through several clips."Look at their eyes,dilated pupils when they see him.Breath falters. They lick their lips or clench their fingers when they say his name."
She turned to Lyra. "These aren't skills. They're instincts. And you,have twelve hours to install that into your body."
Lyra nodded. "I know. Can't fake it." She paused, her voice dropping lower."It's been too long since I truly loved anyone. Those little tells, those micro-expressions… even if I did start to feel something,it'd be hard for them to surface naturally. I've kept myself under control for far too long."
Mulan tilted her head and blinked slowly,her signature calm.This cousin of hers had always been poised, unreachable, like no one had ever cracked past the ice. "I'm not asking you to fall for him," Mulan said softly, stepping closer."I'm asking you to train your body,to crave him the moment you see him." Her tone shifted. Cold. Surgical. Like a sniper selecting a detonator.
"You're the weapon, Lyra. I'm just installing your bait system.Most men would never suspect it, but female physiology? It can pre-condition, project, and even pre-train responses to attraction.You don't need to love him,just need your body to genuinely want him."
Lyra stared at the screen and slowly recited a passage from the protocol:
"Somatic–Neuro–Psychological Synchronization System: Using fantasy, environmental cues, AI simulation, and assistive devices to construct a short-term but neurologically authentic dopamine bond. Through repetition over a 12-hour period, the hypothalamus–limbic loop is activated, forming a conditioned dependency response.Even when the rational mind knows it's fabricated, the physical response remains real, blurring the line between false emotion and true desire."
She looked up. "So the plan is to simulate want, trick the nervous system. But aren't you worried I'll fall in too deep? That I won't be able to get back out?"
Mulan laughed,this time, a genuine burst of mischief, like a scientist who enjoyed her own wicked brilliance. "Highly unlikely," she said, flipping her hair back.
"With such a short time, these dopamine loops are fragile.Your brain will register him as a pleasure stimulus, nothing more. All the touch, the words,you're projecting them based on your own expectations. The moment his real behavior doesn't match your fantasies, the bond weakens.
In particular,you require a partner's intellectual level much more than his appearance, which means it is difficult for you to fall too."
She paused, lips quivering."Of course…if one day you find that the real man drives you crazier than the fantasy? Then Sis,you're screwed."
"Your mother,I mean my aunt will owe me a fat red envelope.The Best 'strategic fiancé' of yours from Fay's family will probably pop champagne in celebration, and North Wind's bigger brother might even make a pilgrimage to Tibet."
"Let's be honest,if we can marry off this ice-cold queen yourself once and for all, no one would care if WindCore shuts down tomorrow."
She turned her gaze back to Lyra, her voice gentler, more grounded."I'm not asking you to fall for someone, Lyra. But if there's truly a man who can make you drop your guard… even once, That wouldn't be the worst thing, would it? And this one? He is also useful."
Lyra didn't respond to the jokes. She simply scrolled through the procedural breakdown again. "Target completion: 80% within 12 hours.If the system underperforms,am I able to apply pharmacological assistance or neural toxins?"
Mulan shook her head, placing a collection of devices, sensor pads,AI audio lines, and a bottle of Arthur's most commonly used on the table.
"You're facing a well-trained wolf," she said, finally serious.""You can't fake micro-expressions or muscle memory.If you're really doing this,follow the steps I gave you.Because when u face him, dopamine is a sharper weapon than any sniper rifle."
Lyra nodded.She packed her bag, sealed the room into a semi-locked state, and laid down bare.Connecting to the neuro-feedback system, she let her breath level out.
Sixteen screens lit up around her, all playing Arthur's footage from different angles. Fay's AI enhancements added voice simulations, his murmurs, his breath, the exact cadence of his bedside whispers.
Hit is on the way. Gentle brainwave rhythms pulsed into the space, a countdown into synthetic infatuation.
She closed her eyes, pressed the metal sensors to her skin, and slowly surrendered to the meticulously engineered desire trap.
Location: Wind Core Headquarters, Central Conference Room, Sydney, NSW, Australia.
Time: One Hour Before Departure
The core board members of Wind Core had gathered for a final briefing before Lyra's departure.
On the massive central screen: a frozen frame of the Umbra Commander,Arthur Graves, caught mid-smirk, that signature expression of mockery and danger. And then Lyra entered.
She moved with practiced ease, the click of her heels echoing across the polished floor.As she sat down, her long dark hair fell deliberately to one side, revealing the graceful line of her left shoulder and neck.Her gaze was soft, almost shy, laced with subtle evasion. Lips were gently pressed together, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.She looked, for all the world, like a woman seeing her secret crush walk into the room.
Fay leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief. "Lyra Jar… can I take a photo? I've spent five nights building visual simulators and I still couldn't have imagined you looking like this."
Jenny handed her a cup of coffee, then glanced over at Mulan, lips twitching. "West, you are officially the most terrifying woman in this company. What kind of witchcraft lets you turn our CFO into this in such a short time?"
Mulan threw her head back and laughed, sharp and proud."Well North, my human weapons are far more creative than your steel ones. Umbra can survive without Wind Storm Tech's systems and adapt to both American and European platforms,but Wind Source Lab offers more than pharmaceuticals."
She gestured toward Lyra, her voice half amused, half dangerous. "Less than twelve hours, and I sculpt Lyra into the exact embodiment of his deepest fantasy.
Posture, micro-expression, subconscious behavioral cues,down to the breath and blink. But most importantly?Lyra is his shortcut to the throne. She represents the perfect collision of ambition and appetite, crafted precisely for him.
He won't be able to tell if he's being seduced or rising to power.That's the hook.Even if you drug him with ten doses of tranquilizer, he won't be able to look away."
Lyra only smiled faintly, as if none of this amused or touched her.Her eyes were fixed on the screen. On him.She was already inside the game. And guess what,failure was not an option for sure.