Zigh flashed a radiant smile, a stark contrast to Lian, who stood staring at his hands after their session with the punching bag.
Zigh ran a hand through his hair. So that's how it is... just like back at the game center, he mused. I should have been the victor, but I suppose this isn't a bad outcome at all.
"What are you grinning for?" Lian asked.
Zigh reached out, patting Lian's shoulder. "Want me to teach you the proper way to throw a punch?"
Lian simply shook his head, looking weary. "Just help me get these gloves off."
Without a word, Zigh moved to assist him. As the velcro hissed open, Zigh softened his tone. "Lian, you should get some rest."
"Yeah."
Lian headed toward the bed without a backward glance. Zigh couldn't help but offer a faint, wry smile as he watched the retreating back of the man who still hadn't figured out how to hit a heavy bag correctly.
As Lian pulled the covers over himself, Outer manifested, perched silently at the edge of the mattress like a haunting sentinel. Ignoring the specter, Zigh tidied the equipment and stepped out of the room.
In the quiet of the living room, he dialed a familiar number.
"Dev, can you accompany me to the Civil Registry Office tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, sir."
Zigh nodded to the empty room and ended the call. He sank into a chair, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of his thoughts settled in. Lian... Lena... and Orleander... everything is falling into place too smoothly, he thought, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. Is this choice truly the right one?
He closed his eyes for a moment, seeking a brief respite before standing up again. "No use dwelling on it. Tomorrow's workload is already piling up."
Returning to the bedroom, he found Lian's breathing had slowed to a rhythmic pace, his chest rising and falling in deep sleep. Zigh approached and gently placed his palm against Lian's forehead, checking for any lingering fever.
"Thank Goodness," Zigh whispered.
Outer remained motionless, those hollow white eyes tracking Zigh's every movement with possessive intensity.
Unfazed, Zigh turned toward the rug on the floor and lay down. It seems I'll be turning in early tonight.
***
Meanwhile, at the hospital where Nox and Ron were being treated, sleep remained elusive for the brothers.
Nox exhaled a heavy sigh, pacing toward Ron, who sat on the edge of his hospital bed. "Ron, what's your take on that Colonel?"
"He seems like the type who can read the room before he even enters it," Ron replied calmly.
Nox crossed his arms, his impulsive nature flickering in his eyes. "But it feels like he's hiding something."
"Aren't we all?"
"True, but still..." Nox trailed off.
Ron looked his brother directly in the eye, his expression turning grave. "Nox, what do you think about the Eosvile situation? We're in Syntax, the twins are in Ipsix, and Zigh is here. This can't be a mere coincidence."
"Now that you mention it... especially considering..."
"What? Out with it, Nox."
Nox sighed again. "Do you remember the first time we met Rhea? Why didn't she take Lian directly to Serenity back then?"
Ron rubbed his chin. "You're right. There's something massive Rhea is keeping from us."
"Even if we press her, we'll likely get the same wall of silence we faced at the Vellion Crater."
Ron looked down, memories of their initial encounter with Rhea resurfacing. He stood up abruptly. "Nox, do you remember what Rhea said when Lian asked her to meet Serenity?"
Nox paused, searching his memory. "Sorry, I was... occupied back then."
"It's fine." Nox clenched his fists. "Ron, I think we need to have a serious talk with Rhea. Even if she stays silent, we need clues about the nature of Lian's power."
"And don't forget the twins," Ron added. "Ashil and Vashil were terrified of Lian. Why?"
Nox tilted his head. "If his power is truly that immense, why didn't they try to use him?"
Ron's eyes widened. "Use him... no, that's impossible..." he muttered, his body beginning to tremble.
"Ron? What's wrong?"
Ron took a deep breath to steady himself. "Nox, how is it that Lian can even use that power?"
"Because of Outer, right?"
Ron sat back down, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "Since when did Lian have an Outer?"
"Hasn't it always been—" Nox stopped mid-sentence. He analyzed the fragments of information, his mouth hanging open in shock. "You've got to be joking, Ron!"
Ron folded his arms, his voice dropping to a somber low. "In the investigative files, Lian has no criminal record. None. Beyond that, he's an orphan... but there are absolutely no reports on him from his childhood until adulthood. It's like he didn't exist."
Nox pulled a chair over, sitting heavily in front of his brother. "So we..."
"Nox... we've been venting our rage on the wrong person this whole time."
Nox's hands began to shake. "I... the hospital... everything I did..."
Ron reached out and gripped his younger brother's shoulder. "This time, we have to apologize. And it has to be sincere."
Nox's eyes filled with a newfound determination. "Yeah. You're right."
Both returned to their bunks to settle their thoughts, allowing a momentary stillness to take over.
***
At the Edelweiss estate, Rhea stood at the center of the left wing, which was still undergoing repairs. She gazed at the night sky, her heart heavy.
Miss Serenity... why aren't you answering my connection? Rhea thought, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I've finally found Master Lian.
The sound of soft footsteps broke the silence of night.
"Lady Rhea," Lena called out gently.
Rhea took a moment to compose herself before turning. "Yes, Lena?"
"Lady Rhea... have you truly decided to help Zigh?"
"If it means lifting the burden from Master Lian's shoulders, then yes."
Lena's eyes welled up. "Even if it means revealing the power you've kept hidden for so long?"
Rhea offered a thin, sad smile. "Every choice demands a sacrifice. If my small offering allows Master Lian to live in peace... then it is more than enough."
Lena grasped Rhea's hand. "Master Lian wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself."
"Lena..."
"Lady Rhea," Lena smiled through her tears. "Isn't the very ground we're standing on enough proof of your devotion?"
Rhea gently withdrew her hand and patted Lena's head. "Perhaps our meeting wasn't just a coincidence after all."
Lena let out a small, watery laugh. "Maybe I was destined to find you."
"You certainly have a way with words."
"Of course. I am your personal maid, after all."
Rhea sighed softly. "Let's get some sleep. The night is growing late."
Lena fidgeted with her fingers, hesitating. "Lady Rhea, may I ask one more thing?"
"What is it?"
Lena looked her deep in the eyes. "Why do you call Sir Ron by his name, without any formal titles?"
Rhea blinked, a small laugh escaping her. "I thought it was something serious. That's all you wanted to know?"
"Please, Lady Rhea... tell me."
"He... he was the one who asked me to drop the titles," Rhea admitted, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"Lady Rhea? Is that all?"
Rhea nodded quickly and hurried away to hide her embarrassment.
Lena watched her go, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. Well, Sir Ron certainly is bold, isn't he?
She trailed behind Rhea, withdrawing to her room to release the torrent of feelings that had long been suppressed.
***
In Ipsix, a young man with brown hair and garnet-colored eyes walked through a library where the shelves stretched toward a vaulted glass ceiling.
A servant greeted him with a bow. "Ah, Young Master. It has been quite some time."
Honest Peaceraft smiled, the picture of charm. "How is Great-Grandfather faring, Hextor?"
Hextor lowered his head. "My apologies, Young Master, but it would be best if you spoke with Master Astor directly."
As they walked, the rippling reflection of water shimmered above the glass ceiling, casting dancing light over the endless rows of books. They eventually reached a grand hall, devoid of any shelving. In the center stood a figure who appeared no older than ten.
"Master Astor," Hextor announced. "The Young Master has arrived to deliver a message."
Astor turned. "Hextor. Leave me with my great-grandson."
Once the doors were sealed shut, Honest approached the small figure. "How are you, Great-Grandfather?"
Astor's expression remained cold. "What do you want, Honest? To the point."
"Ah, always so direct," Honest remarked smoothly.
"I have no patience for your wordplay."
"A shame, considering you were the one who taught me the art of rhetoric."
Astor's eyes flashed, his small hands clenching into fists. "Honest Peaceraft!"
Honest's smile didn't waver. "Great-Grandfather, why raise your voice? I am merely reciting the truths you instilled in me."
Astor hovered slightly off the ground, his presence filling the hall. "Honest, I taught you to be rational and calculating. It seems I must add a lesson on the dangers of paradox."
Honest bowed deeply, his smile masking his true thoughts. "I look forward to it, Great-Grandfather."
To be continued...