Their footsteps echoed.
Edgard walked ahead, his pace steady, controlled. Behind him, Nadia followed in silence, her eyes locked on the corridor's dimly glowing walls. The air here was thick—not with dust or damp, but with tension. The silence wasn't empty; it was watching.
The chrome warehouse was buried deep beneath the estate—so far below that even light seemed reluctant to follow. The stone walls shimmered faintly, reacting to the ambient chrome currents that pulsed like veins through the earth.
Nadia's pulse remained level, but her fingers trembled just slightly beneath the fabric of her gloves.
[Mental Barrier (Beginner)– Stability: 25%]
Her thoughts stayed clear, her heartbeat slow. She knew this ability was the only reason she could bear this suffocating place. But the anxiety refused to fade. The deeper they went, the more vivid the flashbacks became—brief, flickering moments of captivity, of cold restraints, of fluorescent lights and steel instruments.
But she didn't falter anymore.
She wouldn't.
Minutes passed.
Then, at last, they reached it.
The corridor widened, opening into a domed chamber—vaulted ceilings etched with sigils, chrome conductors humming quietly within crystalline columns. And at the far end, standing tall in immaculate black—
Caelum Argyros.
He turned the moment she stepped into the room. His eyes—usually hard, unreadable—softened instantly.
He crossed the chamber in swift, silent strides and stopped before her.
"Nadia," he said, his voice low. "Are you alright? Did the descent cause any discomfort?"
She held his gaze. Calm. Composed.
"No," she said flatly. "I'm fine."
A lie.
But her tone was flawless, her body language serene. No tremor, no hesitation.
Caelum didn't question it.
Still, something flickered in his eyes. Concern, perhaps. Or doubt.
Then, wordlessly, he extended his hand.
Nadia blinked.
Her brows lifted—just a fraction—as she looked from the hand to his face, clearly baffled. "What… are you doing?"
A rare moment.
Caelum, head of the Argyros line, the man known for steely silence and absolute authority… flinched.
He cleared his throat, withdrawing slightly, but didn't lower his hand.
His ears, pale under the room's glow, slowly turned red.
Before the awkwardness could thicken, Edgard stepped in.
His voice was chipper. "Ah! My lady, Lord Caelum is offering protection."
Nadia turned to him, eyes narrowing.
"Physical contact allows him to extend his shielding ability to its full extent," Edgard explained with a smile, completely unfazed by the tension. "It deflects harmful effects—mental, physical, especially those caused by unstable chrome fields. Think of it like an advanced barrier. A real one."
Nadia's eyes widened slightly.
A shared shield.
Similar in purpose to Mental Barrier—but different. Tangible. Physical. Defensive.
Something that could actually protect.
Caelum still held out his hand, waiting.
Edgard's tone grew just a touch softer.
"Since you were visiting, my lady, Lord Caelum arrived early to inspect the vaults himself—ensuring everything was secure. That no improperly sealed core would react to your presence."
He smiled. "Your safety is his priority."
Nadia turned her gaze back to Caelum.
And then she saw it.
Not in his expression—his face was still composed—but in the details.
The tightness of his shoulders. The awkward set of his jaw. And most of all—his ears, now fully red.
He was embarrassed from having his intentions fully discovered by her. He even looked slightly irritated at Edgard's continuous yapping.
His care for her was subtle and quiet. Yet Nadia felt it louder than anything her senses had ever picked up.
Something shifted in her chest—softly, subtly.
Not enough to shift her purpose. But enough to make her pause.
Then, without a word, she took his hand.
His fingers closed around hers immediately—warm, steady.
A soft hum rippled through her skin as the ability activated. She felt it at once: a thin, invisible layer forming over her body, like silk and steel woven together. It was gentle—but firm. A quiet shield.
Just like the man himself.
Edgard seemed pleased on the side as he watched the father-daughter duo, slowly but surely scaling the vast distance between them.
The moment stretched in silence before Caelum turned toward the great steel doors ahead. With a short command—one spoken not aloud but directly into the system embedded in the room—the vault began to unlock.
A deep rumble rolled through the corridor as the mechanism stirred to life. Gears clicked, hidden pistons hissed, and layers of reinforced alloy disengaged one by one in a sequence that lasted nearly a full minute.
Nadia's gaze never left the doors. Despite her outward calm, her system pinged—a subtle notification blooming in the corner of her vision.
[Objective Complete: Locate and Gain Entry to the Chrome Vault Within the Estate Grounds]
[Objective Reward: Active Ability– Falsification Unlocked]
[Falsification:…]
[New Objective Assigned:…]
She ignored it. Her attention fully drawn toward the slowly opening vault. This was what she came for, after all.
Inside, the space stretched out like a cathedral of crystal and metal. The first floor opened up before them, vast and clean, spanning nearly a thousand square meters. Its walls gleamed with cold light reflected from the tens of thousands of white-grade chrome cores, neatly stacked upon rows and rows of silver shelves lining the room.
Each core was stored in a specially crafted metal chest, their lids sealed tight. The cores appeared to be constructed of glass, shimmering faintly through reinforced viewing windows.
They were in all kinds of geometrical shapes, a seamless accompaniment of rough and smooth edges. Some were no larger than a fingernail; others, nearly the size of a chicken egg. Each hummed with charged energy.
"They look like gems," Nadia murmured.
Edgard grinned, stepping forward. "Pretty, aren't they? But raw chrome cores are like live dynamite. That's why we store them like this."
He tapped one of the chests. "This casing? It's made of layered thermite steel and mirrored alloy to block resonance. Without it, they'd start reacting to each other—and that'd be the end of this whole place."
The man spoke of such a catastrophic occurrence with an awfully merry tone. Nadia affirmed that he certainly wasn't right in the head.
Caelum still hadn't let go of her hand all this time. She glanced down at their joined fingers once but said nothing. His grip wasn't tight, but grounding. He didn't speak much either, only quietly checking in as they made their way across the expansive room.
"You've seen enough?" He finally asked once they reached the far side.
Nadia shook her head. "Show me the next floor."
Caelum sighed—not out of annoyance, but resignation. He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. With a simple gesture, the three of them vanished from the first floor in a shimmer of light.
They teleported directly to the second floor.
"This is the only place inside the vault where short-distance teleportation is allowed," Edgard explained mid-step, as they reappeared. "Any other form would trigger the containment fail-safes."
The second floor was a mirror of the first in structure but bathed in a warmer glow. Yellow-grade cores rested in their own chests, giving off a golden hue. The shapes and sizes remained similar, but there was a distinct, heavier thrum in the air—like pressure tightening just beneath the surface.
Nadia moved from chest to chest, absorbing everything. No distractions, no external chatter. Only the subtle whisper of power behind reinforced casing.
They descended—or rather, teleported—to the third floor next, where the orange-grade cores were stored.
These were different. The smallest ones were the size of quail eggs; the largest, monoliths of condensed crystal over a meter tall, glowing with a deep, pulsing light.
"They scale with the creatures they came from," Edgard said, a hint of reverence in his voice. "The big ones are city-level threats."
Nadia nodded. That much, she already knew. But seeing them in person—contained yet not powerless—was something else entirely.
As they approached the final row, Caelum halted.
"No further," he said firmly.
Nadia looked at him but didn't argue. Something in his tone told her it wasn't just protocol—it's concern. Beyond that point laid the three highest-grade cores. Red. Indigo. Black—Country. Continent. World—level threats.
Even she knew better than to press.
With a command, they teleported back to the first floor. No one spoke as they walked out. The vault doors sealed themselves behind them with an echoing clang, like a final exhale.
They retraced their path through the corridor. Caelum still hadn't let go of her hand—and this time, Nadia didn't attempt to pull away either.
His presence was anchoring. A counterbalance to the vertigo the vault's energy had left in her veins. Even the anxiety that had been clawing at her seemed to be silenced.
She wouldn't say it yet, but she was grateful.
{{Trigger Warning: Blood, Child Abuse}}
Somewhere far from the warmth and order of the vault, the night loomed heavy over a desolate wasteland. In a lonely metallic container, rusted at the seams and creaking with every whisper of wind, the silence was broken by the sound of something wet hitting the floor.
A burly man lay half-conscious in a pool of his own blood, his breath ragged, his limbs twitching in broken spasms.
Towering over him was a man built like a reed, grotesquely tall and impossibly thin—his body so frail-looking, it was a wonder he could stand at all. Draped in a long, tattered black cloak, he looked like a walking shadow, a scarecrow possessed.
And yet, he was the one who had done this to the larger man.
"Where is my ruby?" The thin man asked again, his voice smooth, too gentle, like honey over a knife. It was the kind of voice that promised pain wrapped in affection.
"I… I don't know," the burly man whimpered, lips swollen, blood dribbling from a cracked molar.
The thin man tilted his head, disappointed. "Still lying. Still wasting my time."
Without another word, he reached down and clamped a hand over the man's mouth. A pulsing pink energy began to flow from his palm, seeping through the man's skin like smoke through cloth.
The reaction was immediate.
The man began to scream, his back arching violently as if something inside him was being eaten alive. His veins lit up, glowing faintly beneath his skin. His cries became ragged, feral, until at last… they stopped.
The body slumped. Dead.
The thin man sighed, pulling his hand away with a wet sound.
"Truly pathetic," he muttered, wiping the blood from his fingers on the corpse's shirt. "Can't even endure a taste of my affection. What kind of man are you?"
He straightened, tall as a lamppost, his bones clicking faintly as he moved. He looked toward the dark corner of the container, speaking more to the shadows than to the dead.
"But you, my ruby… you endured. You screamed for hours, and yet… you lived." His tone shifted—wistful, reverent. "You're so special. So radiant. How could I possibly let you go?"
From the folds of his cloak, he pulled out a small, weathered photograph—produced from an ancient tool called a camera. The photograph itself was old—creased at the edges, dulled by time—but the image was clear.
A young girl, dressed in a thin linen robe, barely conscious, hung from chains bolted to the ceiling. Her head drooped forward, silver hair falling like a curtain across her face. Her wrists were red and raw, her body limp.
Splatters of dark red blood adorned the white garb on her body, creating a sharp and chilling contrast.
The thin man gazed at the photo with unblinking intensity. Slowly, delicately, he began to stroke the image—his fingers tracing the outline of the girl's face.
"My precious ruby… look how beautiful you were," he whispered, breathless. "Even then. Even ruined, you were perfect."
He pressed the photo to his cheek, then to his lips, eyes wide with unholy adoration. "You shine brighter than any core I've ever harvested."
A strange laugh bubbled out of his throat, airy and unhinged. "I'll find you. I'll tear the world apart if I must. You can't hide from me—not when you left such a brilliant scar behind."
His other hand drew a sharp line over his cloaked chest, a dull phantom ache pulsating beneath his palm.
At last, he tucked the photo back into his cloak, his breath slowing. Some sliver of composure returned to his face.
"Wait for me, my ruby," he whispered, smiling. "I will rescue you soon. And this time I will break you as such you wouldn't be able to leave my side again."