The return journey to the Amber Tower proceeded in a dead silence, outside the car window Asgaria was brilliant like a river of stars, yet could no longer reflect into Isabella's hollow eyes, Alexander Kane's final cold words, like an ultimate hypnosis, completely extinguished the faint spark of yearning for freedom that had briefly flared within her heart, leaving only ash-like numbness and resignation.
She sat quietly curled up in the luxurious seat, like a delicate doll stripped of its soul, the wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses already removed, revealing a face pale and bloodless, those emerald eyes that once reflected the starlit sea and the glow of code now only left silent gloom, gazing outside, yet as though seeing nothing at all.
Kane's gaze occasionally lifted from the electronic document in his hand, sweeping across her lifeless profile, in the depths of his gray-blue eyes was a bottomless cold pool, no one able to glimpse whether beneath lay the slightest ripple, toward this reaction of hers he seemed unsurprised, even as though expected. The process of taming always came with the granting and stripping away of hope, until complete dependence and obedience, he enjoyed this absolute sense of control.
The hovercar slid soundlessly into the underground passage of the Amber Tower, passed through several layers of strict security checks, and finally stopped, David had long been waiting at the private elevator entrance, still with that meticulous, mountain-like silent posture.
Kane got out first, without waiting for Isabella, striding straight toward the elevator, Isabella mechanically followed behind him, her steps somewhat unsteady, David keenly perceived her abnormal state, but did not speak, merely silently followed, maintaining just the right distance.
The elevator rapidly ascended, the weightlessness tugging at her stomach, also making Isabella feel all the more clearly that she was being taken back once more into that prison in the clouds.
Returning to the "Silence" suite, the familiar invisible pressure instantly wrapped around her, Kane stopped in the center of the living room, turning back, his indifferent gaze sweeping over Isabella.
"Remember tonight's feeling." His voice flat, yet carrying a crushing weight, "That is the awareness you ought to have."
Isabella lowered her head, her slender shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly, her voice faint as a mosquito: "… Yes."
He seemed satisfied, no longer spoke, turned and walked toward the study, the heavy door closing behind him, shutting him completely off from the outside.
Isabella stood where she was, unmoving for a long time. David quietly waited at the side, until she seemed to have drained all her strength, then softly spoke: "Miss Isabella, would you like me to prepare calming tea for you?"
Isabella slowly shook her head, her voice utterly weary: "No… thank you, Mr. David, I just… want to be alone for a while."
David bent slightly: "Very well, please rest well, should you need anything, please ring at any time." After saying so, he quietly withdrew from the suite, leaving Isabella to face alone this chamber of luxury and emptiness.
She slowly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, outside was Asgaria's lights that never went out, but what she saw was only the glass reflecting her own pale and blurred silhouette, like a ghost trapped in crystal.
That night, she could not sleep, lying in bed with eyes wide open until the sky grew pale. Alexander Kane did not emerge again from the study.
—— On the other side of the continent of Vestaran, Freeport City, Zebra City ——
Completely different from the orderly Glass City Asgaria, Zebra City was known for its chaos, vitality, and filth, here was a paradise for adventurers, also a haven for fugitives, the law here as fragile as cicada wings.
In a shabby bar in the city called the Rusty Bolt, smoke curled thick in the air, a mixture of cheap alcohol, sweat, and pheromone regulators. In the corner of the bar, a man in a worn leather jacket, unshaven, sat frowning at a micro terminal screen.
His name was Leo, once a low-level employee in Kane Corporation's security division, dismissed without mercy after a botched mission—he had nearly lost his life, and only narrowly escaped to Zebra City, where he now eked out a miserable existence.
On the screen was the interface of an encrypted darknet forum. A seemingly inconspicuous bounty post caught his attention. The payout was neither high nor low, yet the requirements were rather strange—collect any and all information about Kane Corporation's recent non-public personnel changes, particularly anything related to "special Omega guardianship." Even the smallest scraps of information could be quoted.
The poster was anonymous, the payment in hard-to-trace cryptocurrency.
Leo downed a mouthful of cheap whiskey, a glimmer flashing in his bleary eyes. He had spent time at the bottom rungs of Kane Corporation, and knew well the ruthlessness and airtight secrecy of that vast empire—and also knew the value of its internal information. This kind of vague bounty didn't look like commercial espionage. It seemed more like… private vengeance, or perhaps a search for someone?
"Special Omega guardianship?" he muttered to himself, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold sneer. He recalled some rumors he had overheard back when he was employed—about certain hidden proclivities of the man at the very top, and the "collectibles" he kept under the strictest concealment. Just baseless whispers at the lower levels, but still…
His fingers clattered rapidly across the keyboard, replying to the bounty: "Somewhat vague old hearsay, about a 'canary in the glass tower,' but I can't guarantee authenticity. Pay 30% deposit first, remainder after verification."
He tossed out a little bait, waiting to see the other side's response. This could be his one chance to get out of this forsaken place.
—— Asgaria, Upper East District, a luxurious apartment ——
Lydia Kane was unleashing her fury at the person on the other end of the comms. Though her well-maintained face was slightly distorted by anger, her voice remained low, held down by aristocratic restraint.
"Useless! You can't even dig up a shred of useful information? All you can tell me is that he's keeping someone in the Amber Tower—and then what? That Omega's origin? Background? How did he find her? Why is he making such a fuss?!" Her manicured fingers clenched so tightly around an antique porcelain cup that it nearly cracked.
The communicator carried the terrified voice of the subordinate: "Madam, Mr. Kane's security system is of the highest grade. Our people simply cannot approach the upper floors. All related records are encrypted with top-level clearance… All we know is that about three months ago, Mr. Kane deployed a secret medical team. After that, the supply list for the 'Silence' suite changed—it began to include Omega-specific suppressants and maintenance goods…"
"Three months…" Lady Lydia's gaze was icy. "That idiot Lucas, he only knows how to ogle her face! He couldn't pry a single useful thing out of her!" She thought back to Isabella's pale, fragile appearance, laced with a streak of stubbornness—and to her son's extraordinary protectiveness toward her. Unease and jealousy spread through her heart like poisonous vines.
She could not allow some lowborn, dubious Omega to enchant her most outstanding son—let alone endanger the Kane family's bloodline and reputation! She must find out that woman's true background, and discover her weakness…
"Keep digging! Start with the outer circles of that medical team, the supply chain, every possible leak! Money is not an issue!" Her voice was cold, her eyes glittering with icy calculation.
—— Norton Group Headquarters, CEO's Office ——
The Norton Group, long locked in a silent war with Kane Corporation, was headed by CEO Julian Norton. He was an Alpha who appeared to be in his forties—shrewd, with a perpetual trace of mocking amusement at the corners of his lips, though behind his eyes lurked the sharpness of a hawk.
"…The crisis at Emerald City Port has been forcibly suppressed by Kane. The cost was immense, but he's managed to control the narrative, and official accountability has been shelved for the time being." The subordinate reported respectfully.
Julian Norton swirled his glass of red wine with a soft laugh. "Alexander Kane is still the same—prefers to crush everything with brute force. Dull."
"But, our plants have passed along an interesting piece of news," the subordinate lowered his voice. "Kane has been making frequent returns to the Amber Tower. It seems… he has a special 'guest' hidden inside. A young Omega woman. He's even mobilized his private medical resources for her, and sealed off all information with extreme care."
"Oh?" Julian arched a brow, intrigued. "The iron tree blossoms? Or perhaps he's finally found the perfect plaything to satisfy his twisted obsession with control?" The private scandal of his old rival clearly amused him. "How interesting. Can her identity be traced?"
"Very difficult. Kane's defenses are airtight."
"Find a way," Julian's smile never wavered, but his gaze chilled. "Everyone has a weakness. Perhaps this mysterious Omega will one day become the little key we need to pry open Alexander Kane's block of ice. No need to rush. Be patient. Gather every fragment… Someday, it will be of use."
He took a sip of wine, as though savoring the taste of a victory yet to come.
—— Amber Tower, "Silence" Suite ——
Isabella knew nothing of the prying eyes and schemes tightening along the web's edges. She was drowning in her own despair.
The next day, she moved like a marionette with cut strings, unable to muster interest in anything. The breakfast tray was removed untouched. She only curled up on the sofa, replaying documentaries she had already seen countless times, her gaze hollow.
David watched in silence. At lunchtime, instead of bringing food immediately, he carried in a flat, elegantly packaged box.
"Miss Isabella, this was sent at Mr. Kane's instruction." He placed the box on the coffee table before her.
Her gaze swept over the box without a flicker of reaction.
David quietly opened it. Inside was not jewelry or fine clothing, but a state-of-the-art, paper-thin flexible-screen tablet, accompanied by a precision stylus. The workmanship and technology were far superior to the device she had used before.
"Mr. Kane said, if you are interested in aerospace technology, this device comes preloaded with the Corporation's newly developed deep space exploration simulation software, as well as partial access to non-core public data models. You can study and understand them more intuitively." David relayed the message in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
Isabella's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
A slap, followed by a sweet.
No—this wasn't even candy. This was simply another, more exquisite, more powerful toy. Another virtual cage—one that allowed her to roam further, but only within the boundaries he defined, only by his gift.
Humiliation surged back once more—but stronger than the humiliation was a profound, crushing sense of powerlessness.
She stared at the advanced device, her pale, numb face faintly reflected in its screen. She had no choice. Refuse? That would only bring harsher control, and possibly his displeasure. Accept? That meant accepting his so-called "gift," accepting this predetermined, false "freedom."
In the end, she extended a faintly trembling hand and picked up the brand-new tablet. The surface was icy cold. The screen lit up, displaying a dynamic wallpaper of the vast starry sea—breathtakingly beautiful, and yet despairingly false.
"…Thank you." She heard her own dry voice murmur.
David inclined his head slightly and withdrew in silence.
Isabella's fingers drifted unconsciously over the cold glass, opening the so-called "deep space exploration simulation software." In an instant, intricate star maps, orbital calculation formulas, and three-dimensional probe models sprang to life—realistic, detailed, even allowing simple drag-and-drop adjustments and parameter modifications.
This was exactly the kind of thing that would once have set her heart aflame. Any student or scholar in the field would have been overjoyed.
But now, all she felt was a bone-deep chill.
He knew too well how to manipulate hearts. He even knew how to use what she loved most as the chain that bound her.
She stared blankly at the simulated probe on-screen, tracing its predetermined orbit into the unknown void. Just like her own life—it appeared to hold infinite possibilities, yet its trajectory had already been fixed. There was no escape.
And then—at the very edge of the software interface, a tiny, nearly unnoticeable icon—a status light meant to indicate deep-space network activity—flickered. Just once, extremely faint, so quick it could almost have been an illusion.
It was a… signal of abnormal data flow. Extremely faint, something that usually occurred only when a large deep-space antenna array was undergoing special calibration, or when struck by extreme space weather. And yet… this simulation software was not supposed to connect to any live data stream.
Isabella's heart jolted violently in her chest.
Her eyes locked onto the now-stable icon, pupils narrowing.
A meticulously designed, flawless virtual cage…
So why had there appeared a tiny anomaly—an error message that shouldn't exist at all?
A software bug?
Or… some deeper signal she could not yet understand?