Chapter 211 | That’s Lyra

Chapter 211: 211 | That’s Lyra

Selene finished her food first.

She placed her spoon neatly beside her bowl, stood up, and drifted toward the backyard without a word.

Mira finished second and also left.

It was obvious theh had been slightly unsettled by what had happened.

Lyra who was always the first to finish was the last to finish this time.

Dexter watched her from across the table, his own bowl long since empty.

’Something is wrong.’

After the other two had left, Dexter turned his attention toward Lyra.

She was still sitting at the table, quietly eating.

Dexter flipped his right hand.

A packet of chips appeared in his palm.

He held it out toward her.

"Do you want some?"

Lyra glanced at the chips.

Then she looked directly at Dexter.

Her expression suddenly changed.

She leaned back, dropped her spoon onto the table, and folded her arms.

"Are you testing me?"

Dexter’s brows furrowed.

A strange feeling settled in his chest.

Testing her?

He deliberately kept his voice casual.

"Testing you? Why would I test you?"

Lyra stared at him for several seconds. ℯℯ𝑙.

"Why do you think I’m testing you?"

Lyra’s gaze shifted toward the chips before returning to Dexter.

Then she chuckled.

Without another word, she stood up and walked toward the bedroom.

Dexter watched her back disappear through the doorway.

His brows furrowed even deeper.

Something is definitely wrong with her.

He didn’t immediately follow.

Instead, he took a deep breath, collected the girls’ plates, and washed the dishes.

He finished the dishes. Dried his hands. Walked to his room.

---

He sat on his bed, cross-legged and closed his eyes.

He wanted to cultivate but his mind wouldn’t settle.

He thought about Lyra, the diary, the voice, the "Switch" tag.

---

He opened his eyes, checked the time. 7:00 PM.

He stood up and walked to the living room.

Mira was in her wheelchair by the window. Cultivating. Her crimson hair caught the last light of the evening, turning it to burnished copper. Her Spectral Arms were folded behind her back, motionless. Her breathing was slow and steady.

"Ready for your massage," Dexter said.

Mira opened her eyes.

In the past, there had always been a beat of hesitation before she agreed. A momentary flash of resistance. Pride battling practicality. The instinct to refuse warring with the knowledge that the massage was helping.

Tonight, there was no hesitation.

She nodded immediately.

The right arm was proof that his efforts were working so she didn’t fight him anymore. Well, not about this.

Dexter wheeled her to the bedroom.

As he pushed the wheelchair through the doorway, he saw Lyra.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, the Primordial Beast Egg cradled in her lap. Her eyes were closed as she was cultivating.

She opened her eyes as Dexter and Mira entered and looked at them and she understood what was happening.

All of a sudden, she suddenly smiled warmly as the cold Lyra from the dining room was gone.

She picked up the egg, cradling it carefully against her chest, and slid off the bed. She walked past Dexter, her shoulder brushing his arm as she passed.

’Take care.’

She said in his mind and then she left the room.

Dexter watched her go.

’She’s back to normal uhn?’

He shook his head. The oscillation between her personality was making him think she might have aplit personality or something.

He needed to cook the Harmony Congee. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning. Before anything else happened.

He turned back to Mira.

He lifted her from the wheelchair and placed her on the bed. Face down. He removed her blouse. Unclasped her bra. Draped a towel across her lower back for modesty.

He pulled on the Shockwave Glove. Applied the Grade-4 Spiritual Massage Oil. Set the vibration to its lowest setting.

He began.

The Massage Sutra guided his hands along the precise pathways of her meridian system. The Shockwave Glove hummed softly against her skin, sending gentle, penetrating vibrations deep into the muscle tissue. The Grade-4 oil seeped into her pores, its medicinal properties working in conjunction with the technique to stimulate nerve regeneration and repair damaged pathways.

He started with her shoulders. Moved to her upper back. Her spine. Her lower back.

The room was quiet. The glove hummed. The oil glistened. Mira’s breathing was slow and even.

Then she spoke.

"Are you spooked?"

Dexter’s hands paused for a fraction of a second. Then resumed.

"What do you mean?"

"Lyra," Mira said. Her voice was muffled by the pillow. Relaxed. The particular tone of someone who was comfortable enough to speak about things that would normally be left unsaid. "She’s been like that for a while."

Dexter’s hands paused again. Longer this time.

"What do you mean, like that?"

Mira turned her head slightly on the pillow. One crimson eye was visible, aimed sideways at nothing in particular.

"She’s been like that from a young age," Mira said. "Don’t be surprised if she behaves a bit unusual around you."

Dexter’s brow furrowed. His hands resumed their mechanical motion, but his mind was no longer on the massage.

"She’s been like this since childhood?"

Mira nodded against the pillow. "Yeah. One minute she can be smiling at you. Warm. Sweet. The kindest person you’ve ever met. And the next minute..."

She paused.

"She can just decide to kill you."

Dexter’s brows furrowed even deeper.

"For no reason at all," Mira continued. "No provocation. No warning. No trigger. Just like a switch."

Dexter stared at the back of Mira’s head.

"Which is why everyone is wary of her," Mira said. "Everyone in the hero community. The Hero Associatio, the Nine Families and even the Villian’s organizations. Nobody dares to cross Lyra Vance. Not because she’s the strongest. But because she’s the most unpredictable."

Dexter chuckled. But the chuckle was hollow. "She’s been alright for the past few weeks. I don’t think it’s like that."

Mira shrugged.

"It was worse three years ago before the dungeon incident."

She paused.

"She was the most troublesome hero in all of Stargate City. Absolutely no one dared to speak, move, or breathe wrong in her presence. She tried dueling with anyone strong. "

"If I and Selene weren’t strong enough, she might have defeated us too."