Chapter 33: The Strings Above the throne

"You mean a weapon?" Zaeryn asked.

"No," Lysara replied smoothly. "A tool. To be a weapon, one must possess the ability to wield power. You don’t have that ability because, at the end of the day, you’re still a male." Her words cut like steel.

Zaeryn knew exactly what she meant. Weapons weren’t just strong—they were Warladies, women who could channel Vitae. Raw, living energy. The kind of magic men were biologically barred from touching.

But Lysara was wrong about him. Dead wrong.

Because little did she know, he could wield power like a Warlady. In fact, that was what he had planned to reveal. When he told her he wanted to make a deal, this was it: his secret in exchange for his freedom—freedom from being turned into a lab rat.

Zaeryn realized that he had to give up that secret in return for being let go. He would tell Lysara that the reason he survived the Fade was because he was stronger than a regular human being.

’Although I am going to hide the part where my main superpower is mimicking other people’s powers. I will pretend like it is just super strength only. Surely that would be easy to understand for them.’ Zaerryn went over his plan in his head.

However, he understood that freedom wasn’t guaranteed even if he told her the truth. What if revealing his power only painted him as a greater threat?

But what was the alternative? Sit here quietly and hope they eventually decided he wasn’t worth cutting open? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.

Getting back to his reality, Zaeryn said finally, "That’s tempting... but...I’ve got a better proposition."

Lysara tilted her head, her tone like steel wrapped in silk. "You’re a bold one. Do you truly think you have the privilege of making demands here?"

"Yes," Zaeryn said without hesitation. "Because the only way you’ll ever understand why I’m immune to the Fade—the only way you’ll understand what I am—is if I show you. And the only way I’m showing you is on my terms."

His eyes locked with hers, a silent dare sparking between them.

For a long moment, Lysara said nothing. Her face was carved from ice, but something flickered in her eyes—a sharp, unreadable glint. Then, slowly, her lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach them.

"Your terms?" she murmured. Although she had an authoritative look, Zaeryn knew that she was impressed by his audacity. "You are a subject, Mr. Noctis. Not a negotiator."

"A subject who holds the answer to your biggest problem," Zaeryn countered, rising to his feet with controlled grace. His movements were deliberate, letting the strength ripple beneath his shirt just enough to be noticed. "The Fade isn’t just a disease I resisted. It’s an enemy I’ve beaten. Because I’m not just immune."

Lysara’s gaze sharpened. "You’re not just immune? Explain, Athea’s son."

Zaeryn smirked faintly. "I’d rather show you. But first—you give me your word. No more tests. No more labs. You let me walk out of here when this is done."

The silence stretched. Lysara’s fingers tapped once on the table, the only sign she was considering. Then, finally, she nodded, her voice like tempered steel.

"You have my word," Lysara said softly, every syllable a blade. "Show me."

"I’ll take you at your word." Zaeryn didn’t hesitate. His gaze slid past her to a reinforced storage unit tucked against the far wall—a block of gleaming alloy, layered with security seals and circuit meshes. The kind of container designed to hold volatile weapons.

The kind of thing that shouldn’t move without a grav-loader. In simplest terms it was very heavy.

Without breaking eye contact, he started walking toward it. Slow. Controlled. Like a man certain of what came next.

Lysara’s head tilted slightly, her eyes tracking him. One brow arched, amusement curling at the edges of her perfect composure. She expected something minor—a flicker of speed, a flashy trick, maybe even a desperate, pitiful attempt at moving it.

What she didn’t expect was for Zaeryn to stop in front of the container... and wrap one hand around its edge.

A ripple of sheer, unadulterated power coursed through Zaeryn’s arm. The floor beneath his feet groaned faintly. With a grunt that was more controlled exhale than strain, he lifted the entire thing a few inches off the ground, holding it suspended, the heavy object seeming to float in his grip.

He held it there for a moment, the humming machinery within it now tilted at an absurd angle, before gently, almost delicately, setting it back down with a soft thud.

Strength. That was his edge—the one gift he could flaunt without giving away everything. It wasn’t natural, of course. It came from Ysmeine. Their bond ran deeper than most, and with her raw might flowing through that connection, Zaeryn had inherited more than a little of her power.

The silence that followed was absolute. Lysara’s perfect composure fractured, just for a millisecond. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a raw, unadulterated surprise flashing within them before her mask of control snapped back into place.

"Impossible," she breathed, the word a soft exhalation of air, devoid of her usual smooth authority. Her gaze was no longer dismissive; it was of shock, evaluating. But more than that, she saw what he did as impressive, seeing him not as a male, not as a tool, but as a force.

Zaeryn turned back to her, a faint, knowing smirk on his lips. At that very moment before she could say anything else, a soft chime cut through the chamber.

Lysara’s jaw tightened. "My assistant," she muttered. A button press later, a holo-screen bloomed into the air, projecting the sharp face of a young woman.

"Dana," Lysara said, tone edged. "This better be important. I made it clear—I do not want to be disturbed."

Dana’s eyes darted to the far wall, where the reinforced storage unit sat a few inches off its original marker, its security seals faintly misaligned. That block wasn’t supposed to move without a grav-loader.

Her gaze flicked back to Zaeryn, who was strolling back to his chair with a calm, almost bored look on his face, like nothing had happened.

Dana’s brow creased ever so slightly, but she said nothing. Her expression smoothed out in an instant, her tone clipped as she addressed Lysara. "My apologies, High Commander," she said, voice even. "Chief Scientist Daphne has requested an immediate private meeting with you. She specifically asked that Zaeryn Noctis be present."

Lysara’s gaze flicked to him, then back to the assistant. "Very well, send her in."

Dana bowed slightly before the feed cut off.

Lysara faced him again, unreadable. "Seems Daphne also found that you have a super power." She grinned, "Oh maybe, she found out more than a super power about you. Tell me, are you hiding more from us?"

"Just what I showed you," Zaeryn lied, settling back into his chair, his pulse racing. What does Daphne know? he thought, a chill hitting him.

Lysara had an amused smile on her face, she seemed to not believe him, "Sure..., we’ll see what Daphne has to say. Though I’m surprised why she wants to speak about this in private with me and you, instead of in front of the whole council."

Zaeryn nodded, keeping his face calm while his pulse hammered in his ears. ’Weird, why did Daphne just call for a private meeting with Lysara and demand my presence? Did she find something she wasn’t supposed to?’ The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He focused inward: ’System. Can they find something incriminating from my blood test.’ he asked desperately. But he wasn’t sure he’d get an answer. After all, who was he even talking to? It was a system, not his personal chat buddy.

[Answer: Partial affirmative.]

To his surprise, a notification with the answer blinked into existence in front of him. Turns out the soul sync system could answer him after all.

[They cannot detect the System. However, advanced scans integrating both magic and high-tier biotech can reveal genetic anomalies and adaptive traits inconsistent with male baseline.]

[Additionally: Blood analysis may expose latent ability to assimilate external traits or powers.]

Zaeryn’s jaw tightened. ’Perfect. Just what I needed. And here I was hoping for good news.’ He thought bitterly. If Daphne had figured out he could absorb abilities, then that was bad news, because then that would make him a bigger threat to not only the council, but the whole matriarch older.

A male with the ability to mimic war lady abilities? Yeah, that didn’t sound right. Even Zaeryn, when he put himself in their shoes, could see what their reaction would be.

"Lysara’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. "You seem worried. Is something bothering you, Zaeryn?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, he forced a relaxed smile, sliding back in his chair. "No, it’s nothing," he said.

Before she could reply, the door slid open with a soft hiss, and Daphne stepped in alone, her lab coat swishing. She held a holo-tablet, her face calm but serious, her violet eyes glancing at Zaeryn for a split second before locking on Lysara.

"High Commander," she said, her tone cool and steady. "Thank you for seeing me so quickly."

A silent sigh escaped Zaeryns lips.’Uh, here we go. Am I in trouble?’