"Your—" Henri started, then paused. His brow furrowed as he chose his words carefully, the lines on his face deepening. "I know you're not lying, baby, but how sure are you?"
Anna's gaze flicked between her father and Leonardo's suspended form. "His story skill is 'Tour Guide: Practical Officer,' and I know it sounds weird, but he showed us his skills," she explained, her voice gaining confidence with each word.
She moved closer to Leonardo, her hand hovering near one of the pulsing tubes that seemed to be both sustaining and consuming him. "His starter pack is the handbook of the tour guide."
Henri's eyes narrowed, the skin around them crinkling as his mind worked through the implications. "Which stage—" he said slowly, his voice measured. He paused mid-step, turning to face Anna fully.
He resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. "But if it's starter pack-based, Stage 5 users are extremely rare." His emphasis on extremely hung in the air between them.
Henri's gaze remained fixed on Anna, unwavering and intense. A smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn't his usual warm expression.
This one was different—a superior version of the expression Anna had used in the lounge when she tried to pry into Leonardo's skin. It was an imitation, but Henri's version was... in short, scary.
Anna couldn't help but take a step back.
Henri's eyes glinted in the dim light as he asked, "What's his attachment skill?" He ran his hand along the edge of his desk, the action casual, but his intent clear—he was trying to gauge Leonardo's ability.
"A story skill of Stage 5 is advantageous. None of the heirs or guides have this. It automatically puts him—no, us—ahead." He then added, recognizing a weakness, "Then again, it's easy to get a Stage 5 skill because, in short, it's just the rarity. If you could be the head of a District—which is hard, obviously—it automatically ranks you that high."
Anna swallowed hard, her throat bobbing visibly before she responded. "It's adaptive evolution, I think. It—"
"Adapts to physical and mental attacks, no?" Henri interjected, his voice sharp. He picked up a small ornament from his desk, turning it over in his hands as he spoke. The object caught the light, sending small reflections dancing across the walls. "Have you done anything to see how far it goes?"
Anna nodded, her eyes tracking the ornament in her father's hands. "I pierced his arm with Elara's attachment skill."
Henri's fingers stilled on the ornament, his knuckles whitening slightly as his grip tightened. "She saw it?" he asked instantly, his tone carrying a hint of concern.
"Yes, she did, but it's alright," Anna hastened to explain, her words tumbling out quickly. "It gave him minor pain Channeling."
"Minor as in all of it?" he asked slowly, his gaze boring into Anna.
"Yes," Anna replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable under her father's intense scrutiny.
Henri nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's obvious an adept shouldn't be that strong, but adaptation should be expected. Don't tell anyone his story skill," he advised, his voice low and urgent. "He truly is good defense—"
"He has a title skill," Anna interrupted, her words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if trying to physically hold back the revelation.
Henri whirled around, his face a mask of disbelief. The sudden movement caused his coat to flare out dramatically. "Hm?" he said, his tone skeptical.
"Champion," Anna replied, her voice steadier now. She stood straighter, as if the word itself gave her strength.
Henri's eyebrows shot up, his forehead creasing with surprise. "I've never heard of him," he said instantly.
"Neither have I," Anna admitted slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. The fabric twisted and untwisted in her nervous grasp.
Henri's gaze hardened as he leaned forward, his palms flat on the desk's surface. "What is it?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.
Anna took a deep breath, her chest visibly expanding as she gathered her courage. "Uninvited guest, it—" she began, but Henri cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"It's alright, I shouldn't know that much," he said, straightening up. He moved back towards the window, his reflection overlapping with the suspended form of Leonardo in the glass. "Your mom told me why she killed him."
Anna's brow furrowed in confusion. I knew it was her.
Henri's gaze remained fixed on Leonardo's reflection in the glass. "He lied to her about my death," he said, his voice unnaturally calm. His fingers traced invisible patterns on the cool surface of the window.
Anna felt a pang of guilt, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, if mom was practically hunting him down," she offered weakly.
Henri turned back to face her, his expression unreadable. "You're right, but then again, he is dead right now."
He turned abruptly, walking towards the door with purposeful strides. His hand reached for the ornate handle, fingers curling around the cool metal. "Anyway, let's continue this outside," he announced.
Anna cast one last glance at Leonardo, his body still and silent amidst the whirring machinery. "Leonardo," she murmured, her voice tinged with worry. Her hand reached out, as if to touch him, but stopped short, falling back to her side.