Chapter 349. Unwelcome Visitors (Patreon)

Clara Belvaire knew something was off when she returned home. Outwardly, nothing was wrong. The lights were all out, aside from the lamp she always kept on in the living room. Her husband was away in the Adrilli Isles on business, so it was to be expected. Her entire residence was layered in complex arrays unbreakable to all but the most powerful End practitioners in the world, and none of them had been tripped.

For most, the defenses would be overkill, but the Belvaire family was influential. The family’s rivals had reason to enter her house and steal information off her glosscomp, or even plant monitoring devices like tiny glosscams or mics. And now, those outside threats were compounded thanks to Claire’s involvement in the Infinity Loop technology’s development.

Everyone wanted to know what the loop tech was and what it could do. All the world’s powers wanted to know how to manufacture their own Skai’aren. But more than that, they wanted to understand how they might leverage the technology to churn out peak practitioners–and how easy it would be for their rivals to do so.

Should everyone start planning for powerful agents of destruction to pop up every year, destabilizing the global power dynamics?

Even states like Shattradan that touted a policy of isolationism were interested. Shattradan already had a booming industry of public and private guilds for defense, guilds that in many ways were just mercenary organizations. If Shattradan managed to produce extremely powerful practitioners, it could use them for self-defense in an increasingly dangerous world… or loan them out to other nations for a price.

Clara knew they were at a pivotal moment in their world’s history and found both satisfaction and apprehension at being in a position to influence how everything would unfold. Comfort came with the understanding that she was ultimately only one person with limited authority. If they failed to mitigate the loop’s dangers, and everything came down on their heads, she wouldn’t be individually culpable.

More than that… she refused to believe that their world would actually be doomed by the loop tech. Even if all the scientists on the project couldn’t find a solution, they had the returned Skai’aren helping them from the shadows, calling through to them from Eternity. His unexpected appearance had instilled her entire team with confidence.

And if even he couldn’t help them to solve the problem of soul corruption? Then all the world would be forced to collaborate and find a solution. And if they all failed, then the loop tech would just have to be abandoned until a solution arose. Clara’s current favorite Plan B was to set up a loop off world in space. Their world had never made any spacefaring vessel, but how hard could it be to engineer one if they compelled their best Beginning practitioners to tackle the challenge?

A cold gust of wind blew against her jacket, sending a shudder through her body. The arid climate was hot during the day but cold at night. Pulling her jacket tighter, Clara proceeded up to the front door, unlocking the mechanism with a wave of her glossY over the door handle. She opened the door with caution, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

She sighed and shook her head. She was letting the stress get to her head, infecting other areas of her life. People within the group–those who knew the true stakes of their research–had fallen to paranoia. Others had been hospitalized after the powerful oaths they’d taken–oaths that ensured secrecy–had activated. Those people weren’t dead, but they were in no condition to share information with anyone.

Clara was bound by oaths as well, but they were less strict. She was responsible for reporting information about the research to stakeholders. Therefore, rather than silencing her completely when outside the confines of research institutions, they allowed her to share the information with people in specific positions of authority. There was an entire list of approved people she could share information with. She hadn’t bothered to memorize it. If she started telling too much to the wrong person, the oath would let her know immediately. If the oath didn’t stop her, she knew the information exchange was allowed.

She preferred it this way, having a system that prevented her from making mistakes. She trusted her own judgment, of course, but when the stakes were this high… she couldn’t afford mistakes.

None of them could, or they might have a war on their hands.

As she shucked off her shoes and took a seat at the kitchen island, she supported her head in her hands, massaging her forehead with the joint of her thumbs, kneading deep, as though she could pierce through her skull and put pressure on her chronic headache.

She had the money to pay for a Life practitioner to cure the pain, but it was always only a temporary relief. Unfortunately, Life practitioners couldn’t cure stress.

The pounding was so distracting that it took her a full minute to realize she wasn’t alone.

“Hello, Clara,” a voice called, sinuous and smooth. Dangerous.

She jumped in place, nearly falling out of the chair. She composed herself as she slid from the chair and faced the direction of the voice, her left hand already wrapped around the micro zapper in her left pocket. It was small, but that didn’t reduce its power–just its range.

Hair so blond it looked white–half pulled back into a tail, half loose–fell on shoulders garbed in thin, curved shoulder guards. He was dressed in a navy robe in the traditional style of the former SPU’s royals. His eyes were sharp but filled with curiosity, like those of a cat playing with its food.

She shuddered under that gaze… and she flinched as her mind caught up with her eyes. She didn’t need to see the crown resting on the man’s head to recognize him.

This was the Crowned Executor, Euryphel Selejo.

That knowledge brought both concern and relief. Concern, because she had no idea why he was here, but it couldn’t be good for her. The Selejo Imperial Federation wasn’t outwardly opposed to Sere, but the nations weren’t friends. Relief, because she had a suspicion that he wasn’t actually here. He looked solid, but there was no way the Crowned Executor had come in person to visit her.

Then again, he’s one of the only people in this world who might be able to disable all the End arrays around my house without tripping any alarms…

So maybe he really was here in person.

She suppressed her grimace and waited for him to speak. She hated feeling so defenseless–she wasn’t stupid enough to think her zapper would do anything to a peak practitioner like Euryphel–but she was no stranger to the feeling.

After all, Clara wasn’t a practitioner. She was brilliant, so much so that people assumed she had a high Beginning affinity, but everyone who mattered knew the truth.

At times, her brilliance was better for research than having a bona fide Beginning affinity. She thought and saw the world differently than her Beginning teammates did. She offered an invaluable perspective and was often better at seeing the bigger picture.

But she lacked in other areas. For instance, she didn’t have preternatural observation skills. And she certainly couldn’t absorb martial lessons in an afternoon. Her family had trained her in self-defense when she was young, before she’d been written off as a regular, but that had all stopped long ago. Standard martial arts would never be enough to protect her from the enemies that mattered.

She also wasn’t as astute at judging the behavior of others. She didn’t have the knack for analyzing facial tics and body language. Normally, that didn’t bother her–she didn’t know what she was missing–but as she stood before Euryphel, she wished for something, anything, that would give her an edge.

But there was truly nothing.

It’s possible that I die tonight, she realized. If Euryphel has a method to extract information from me by temporarily holding my oaths at bay, I’ll be either severely incapacitated from breaking my oaths after the fact, or he’ll simply kill me.

Clara had no idea if the Crowned Executor could do anything like that, but Euryphel was famous in End circles for his stand against the Eldemari. Even months later, nobody knew how he’d disabled the woman’s arrays to invade Cunabulus.

If anyone could hold my oaths at bay, it’s him.

“Quiet, I see,” Euryphel continued. “There’s no need to be nervous, Clara.”

She still didn’t speak. Against a Regret practitioner, that was the safest path to take. Remain silent, even under torture.

Her lip almost trembled in terror as she considered what fate might be in store for her. Almost. If she was in a loop, now, then nothing could stop him from tormenting her in the most painful ways possible. At least my real self would never remember it, she thought.

“I swear that everything I say is the truth,” he continued. His voice was cold and impassive, giving credence to his reputation as an ice prince. “Even if it’s shocking.”

Clara clenched the zapper tighter.

“First, I am not here in person. I cannot hurt you. I also cannot run Regret scenarios while I am projecting myself to your location. In every way that matters, I’m as powerless as you are.”

Clara swallowed. He could be lying, she thought. I should assume everything he says is a lie, no matter what he says to the contrary. If I were in his position, I would say anything I could to get the information I want. Maybe in his scenarios, he’s found that this is the best way to make me let down my guard.

Y’jeni, she lamented, Regret practitioners are the worst.

“First: the Skai’aren you’ve been talking to is a sham.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I would know. Second: your fears regarding the Infinity Loop are true. There is no way to stop soul corruption. And no, moving the loop into space won’t work–the loop needs souls to run, and won’t work in the middle of nothingness. The only way to save us all is to eliminate the loop technology altogether.”

Clara could hardly believe her ears. This was why the Crowned Executor had come to her? To give her, what, a warning? And to reveal that he knew way more than he should? So far, she’d gleaned a lot of information about his capabilities that she was sure her family would be very interested to learn.

She couldn’t hold herself back from responding. “Thank you for this information. Is that all?”

“You think it’s impossible to stop the loop tech at this juncture. But you’re wrong.”

She blinked, mildly triggered. She was wrong, was she? “You say grand things but have no proof for any of them. The Skai’aren has reached out to us from Eternity to give us a path to greatness–to perfect the technology that brought him, a regular, to the apex of power.” Clara stopped speaking abruptly as she realized that her oaths weren’t triggering to prevent her from running her mouth to an unauthorized party.

“I will give you the proof you desire, Clara. But beware what you ask for. With proof and knowledge comes responsibility. Do you aspire to cause the end of this world?”

“Of course not,” she said softly, her mind racing to find a discreet way of alerting someone to her current situation. Maybe she should just try to run away? If Euryphel wasn’t here in person, which was seeming more likely by the second, he couldn’t stop her.

Steeling herself, she suddenly sprinted for the back door. No wind elementalism surged forth to stop her. Elated, she threw the door open and launched herself to the left, circling on the yard toward a quaint wooden gate that separated her garden from the front yard.

Then, suddenly, her entire body froze. She couldn’t so much as twitch her fingers. Even moving her eyes was impossible.

Thankfully, her lungs and heart were still functioning, but she found that she couldn’t control them. She couldn’t hold her breath, for instance, and her heart was beating evenly, even when her terror should be forcing it into a swift drumbeat.

Her body was no longer under her control.

So I am going to die, after all, she thought, filled with bitter resignation.

“You will not die tonight, Clara Belvaire,” a voice blared into her head. “But it’s possible you’ll wish you had.”