Page 290 of Interion

“Why shouldn't I have known?” Even given the absurdity of the situation, he tried to maintain his composure.

Zion, meanwhile, radiated a cold violence that made Serguei wonder what would happen if Kyller's condition worsened. He had always known the girl was the general's weak spot, which was why he prodded that weakness whenever he could—to teach him to control his temper. But at that moment, the situation was spiraling out of control.

“Because you would have ruined the future. If you'd known beforehand, you would have prevented what's happening today, and that would have brought destruction to the world.” The seer interlaced his fingers, resting them on his leg. “As it turns out, you and your son have always been the girl's faithful little dogs. The goddess should have saved herself the trouble of sending her wyverns for that.”

Serguei and Zion frowned, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“I see you haven't lost the habit of talking nonsense. But I don't blame you. There can't be many people to talk to underground, can there, Julius?”

The Sonar's smile widened. That was the old name he himself had forgotten over the years.

“I can assure you the earth is a much better place than the palace. And playing with the animals in my home is more fun than being Elitium's pet. But everyone cowers in their own way, don't they?”

And there it was—a hard truth, hurled at him like a joke. Serguei let his air of arrogance fade, like a mask slipping off once it realizes it no longer fits. Then he regarded his old friend with a neutral expression, taking in his features, his clothes, the dirt and the stench.

“You've changed,” he whispered, remembering when they'd been a team. The fights, the escapes, the passion in their hearts. The burning desire to live, to save, and to reclaim everything that had been taken from them.

“You too, but I still see you.”

They stared at each other in recognition. The silence between them was like an old, frayed rope. Then Zion cleared his throat, pulling them from their trance, and the psychic quickly composed himself, blinking away the nostalgia.

“What's happening to her, Julius?” Serguei asked, closing his eyes to try to break through the blockage. It was useless. No matter how hard he pounded against the wall, it didn't even scratch. “There are two mental barriers protecting her mind. It's similar to the blockage in the basement patient.”

“It's not similar,” Julius corrected him. “It's the same.”

Serguei frowned, comparing the two situations. There was something inside the patient that blocked his mind, and now that same thing was inside the girl? Was this what Kyller had seen in the corridor? Was it the same thing that had marked Rosnir, or was it something different?

The Seer cleared his throat, snapping him out of his kaleidoscope of questions.

“The power inside her is connecting with her body, but the presence is still trying to gain ground. You'll need to help her face the entity, but you can only act when the union is almost complete—that's when the mental shield will be at its weakest. Right now, there's nothing you can do to help.”

“And what does this book have to do with helping Kyller?” Zion asked.

“While we wait, I want you to understand everything that's happening, and this book has the answers. I could tell you the story myself, since I'm the one who wrote it, but I don't trust my memory that much.” Julius reached over and picked up the book from the table. Then he looked again at the two men bent over the girl. “I already told you not to worry. She's fine. Her mind is trapped in her subconscious, and for now, she won't be attacked. Now you need to listen and understand.”

He held the volume with visible care, then placed his palm on the cover. A blue light spread through the room as the book vibrated with power. The man leafed through the blank pages until he found pages filled with writing and illustrations. Then he turned the book over and set it on a white couch beside him, saying:

“Read. You need to understand part of the story before I explain what's going to happen.”

The other two exchanged glances.

“I don't trust him,” Zion grumbled.

“We don't have a choice. I don't know what's happening either,” said the psychic, standing up. “He's crazy, but he's our only chance.”

“Funny hearing that from you.” The Seer smiled mockingly.

“I'm eccentric, not crazy. There's a difference.”

Serguei sat on the couch, gathered the book in his arms, leafed through the pages, and signaled for his son to stop growling and listen. Then he began to read aloud.

Δ

When the voracious threatened the planet the gods loved most, all the deities grieved. After much thought, the god of Knowledge proposed a solution to save the world from the contamination caused by Death's children. Killing them wouldn't solve the problem—they were bound to the planet and would be reborn from the shadows for eternity—so the plan was to keep them away from living beings.

Thus, he devised a containment system based on energy pillars and presented the idea of raising a barrier that would divide the planet. The proposal pleased the deities. However, the blockade demanded a high price: one eye from each celestial being would have to be donated to serve as the foundation of the protection.

The gods accepted the plan, including Anabel, who felt indebted to everyone. When the mission was laid out, the deities descended to the world. With them came the archangels and a horde of wyverns, led by the goddess of War. After days of intense battles, they managed to purify half the planet. Only three voracious remained, concentrated at one of the poles. They were the last descendants of the goddess of Death, bearers of the accumulated power of all their dead siblings. These were the strongest, for like the archangels, their essences were immutable and eternal, passing to the nearest sibling when one died.