Chapter 168: Go ahead, you’ve got my permission

The base was quieter than usual.

No one spoke as Myles stepped into the operations room once again.

His expression alone was enough to keep everyone silent.

Tania was already there.

She sat alone near one of the empty tables, hands folded neatly on her lap, waiting without impatience.

Myles walked over.

Without a word, he placed a folded umbrella on the table between them.

"This belonged to Blake."

Myles’ voice was flat.

Tania looked up, and nodded once.

Slowly, she picked up the umbrella with both hands.

Unlike everyone else in the room, she wasn’t looking at it, she even closed her eyes.

Then, she brought it closer to her face and inhaled gently.

Alexis watched from across the room with folded arms.

"Every time she does this, it looks so ridiculous."

Zlatan chuckled, while Estelle and Myles ignored him.

Half-alien hybrids occasionally inherited unusual traits from the alien half of their lineage.

Most inherited enhanced strength, sharper senses, faster healing, even flight.

Still, those were abilities that still fit within ordinary human perception.

Tania’s ability did not, it was one of the rarest recorded mutations. Her human brain should have limited her perception to three-dimensional space.

Instead, somehow, she had been born capable of perceiving fragments of the fourth dimension.

It wasn’t continuous nor perfect.

Just enough to notice things no ordinary person, or even most second generations, could ever perceive.

She remained perfectly still.

The room followed.

Seconds stretched into a minute, then another.

The air around her seemed subtly distorted.

Not visibly, everything simply felt wrong.

Like the space immediately surrounding the umbrella had become slightly deeper than the rest of the room.

Tania slowly opened her eyes.

Except, they weren’t focused on the umbrella anymore, they stared somewhere behind it, no, through it.

"..."

She stood, holding the umbrella loosely, and began walking.

Not toward any obvious destination, she moved in short, hesitant steps around the operations room, occasionally stopping, tilting her head or changing direction.

As though following something invisible.

Alexis frowned.

"There she goes."

Estelle quietly activated one of the room’s recording systems.

Tania continued walking.

Sometimes reaching out with one hand.

Sometimes withdrawing it immediately.

"...Too faded..." she murmured, "...Too many overlaps..."

She circled one corner of the room, then stopped, and closed her eyes again. She extended two fingers into empty air.

"..."

A ripple.

Tiny.

Almost imperceptible.

The hairs along Zlatan’ arms stood up.

Tania frowned.

"There are traces, but they’re fragmented, something moved... outside ordinary space."

Her fingers drifted through nothingness, following invisible currents.

"Yes, they aren’t random, they’re..."

She stopped speaking.

Her pupils narrowed.

For the first time since beginning, her calm expression shifted.

"Belonging to a Pityis."

The room fell silent.

She lowered the umbrella.

"There are fourth-dimensional fractures, small and extremely precise, and they overlap repeatedly."

Estelle looked up.

"I can sense heightened senses around their head."

Tania slowly shook her head.

"More specifically, the eye area."

Alexis’ expression changed.

"..."

Tania’s gaze remained fixed on empty space.

"They resemble..."

Another pause.

"...the sun."

The word echoed strangely as her voice was growing quieter.

"I’ve only seen this pattern once before."

"..."

Everyone waited.

Tania finally looked toward Myles.

"It strongly resembles Ren’s constitute."

Silence.

Alexis immediately clicked his tongue.

"Then it’s Ren, no doubt."

Estelle nodded.

"I agree. If it’s that pattern, there’s no doubt, besides, Myles did interact with that little thing."

She sighed.

"The problem is finding them, they don’t maintain permanent bases. Most of their members came from the orphanages that secretly sheltered second generations. They’ve spent years moving from place to place."

Alexis shrugged.

"They’re not completely unpredictable."

Everyone turned toward him.

"They always choose abandoned locations, like factories, warehouses or collapsed facilities, places no one bothers checking."

Myles spoke immediately.

"I already suspected as much. It doesn’t matter."

His gaze settled on Alexis.

"You’ll investigate."

Alexis stared back.

"Seriously?"

No response.

He let out an exaggerated sigh.

"As you say. Fine, what a pain."

He stood, stretching both arms over his head.

"I’ll go."

The transforming chamber stood along the opposite wall.

A cylindrical tube made of dark metal.

Alexis stepped inside, and the doors sealed shut around him.

Mechanical arms unfolded from every direction.

Pieces of armor locked into place one after another.

Shoulders.

Chest.

Arms.

Helmet.

Legs.

The process lasted only seconds.

When the tube opened again, a figure in a crimson mechanical suit stepped out.

Alexis flexed one hand experimentally.

"Jeez."

He walked toward the teleportation platform.

Just before activating it, Myles spoke.

"Do it quickly."

Alexis paused, then looked over one shoulder.

"Expect no less from me, you tyrant."

Space folded, and he vanished.

***

Blake’s wrists were suddenly grabbed.

The ropes loosened.

"..."

Three armored figures surrounded him.

One in front, two behind, and none of them bothered speaking, they simply hauled him to his feet.

The instant Blake tried standing, pain shot through both legs.

"...Ah..."

Three days tied to a chair did this to you, after all.

His knees barely obeyed him anymore, and he stumbled almost immediately.

One of the armored figures caught his shoulder, of course not kindly, it was simply to keep him moving.

"C’mon..."

Blake muttered under his breath.

His legs trembled with every step.

Still, this was the first time he’d left that room, he had to take advantage of that. His eyes immediately wandered.

The concrete was old, the walls cracke, rusted pipes all over, even with water stains spreading across the ceiling.

Everything looked pretty ancient and forgotten.

The staircase ahead was barely intact.

Several steps had collapsed entirely.

Chunks of concrete lay scattered beneath them.

Even the handrails had rusted through.

’Seems like it is an abandoned, decaying building. No wonder.’

Nobody would ever come here voluntarily.

After several exhausting flights of stairs, they reached the uppermost floor.

A heavy metal door opened.

Blake was pushed inside, his steps stopping.

"..."

His stomach dropped.

In the center of the room stood a machine.

A wheel.

Or... something inspired by one?

A large circular restraint frame stood upright, surrounded by articulated mechanical arms.

The metal ring could rotate in every direction, flipping whoever was strapped to it upside down, sideways, or completely inverted.

Along its edges were dozens of adjustable restraints designed to lock wrists, ankles, waist, neck, even individual fingers if necessary.

Above it hung several modular devices mounted on robotic rails.

One resembled a cluster of precision injectors.

Another emitted a faint electrical hum.

Several others ended in interchangeable instruments whose purpose Blake couldn’t even guess.

Beside the apparatus stood a sleek touchscreen console.

Rows of illuminated buttons.

Digital sliders.

Customizable settings.

Force.

Duration.

Rotation speed.

Electrical intensity.

Injection volume.

Pressure calibration.

Every function appeared programmable.

Everything could apparently be controlled with nothing more than a few taps.

Blake’s face lost what little color remained.

’Ah, no... I am not dealing with that, no way.’

Without moving his lips much, he lowered his head.

"Defense Buff."

The familiar sensation spread quietly through his body.

He wasn’t stupid.

There was no way he’d survive something like that unaided.

"..."

Unexpectedly, they walked past the machine. Instead of forcing him onto it, they sat him in an ordinary chair.

His wrists were restrained once again.

Nar sat right in front of him, casually leaning against a nearby table.

"I’ve been observing you."

His distorted voice echoed calmly.

"The way you’ve behaved, along with everything else, it tells me enough. You know more than just something about the person behind you in that clip."

’Well, that was obvious from the first day, or I would’ve told you Myles’ name without a second thought.’

Blake remained silent.

Nar continued.

"I’ve already reached that conclusion, and as I can see, so have you."

Blake didn’t deny it.

Nar folded his arms.

"What interests me is who you are to him. You are useless, after all. So why were you kept around? Were the two of you half-siblings?"

Blake blinked.

’Half-siblings? I guess from any perspective, that actually makes sense. I am an ordinary human that is risking his life for a second generation.’

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that’s it, we’re half-siblings."

Nar sighed, leaning farther back against the table.

"You’re lying."

’Ah, how was he able to tell?’

He hadn’t hesitated, his breathing hadn’t changed, his heartbeat was already elevated.

How had Nar noticed?

Nar answered before Blake could ask.

"My eyesight is exceptionally precise."

He tapped one finger against the side of his visor.

"When people knowingly lie, their eyes make tiny corrective movements. It is almost imperceptible. The gaze briefly stabilizes, then overcorrects as the brain suppresses the truthful response, it lasts less than a fraction of a second."

He tilted his head.

"Yours did exactly that."

Blake internally sighed.

’Seriously. What kind of eyesight is that? Does Myles also have that kind of perception?’

After a moment, he shrugged as much as the restraints allowed.

"Fine. We’re not related by blood, that’s true."

He looked directly at Nar, then at the other two.

"But, I’m not going any further than that. So you might as well get it over with."