[Chapter 237. First Harvest]

Sarah unhooked her legs from him and slid to the ground, her body gliding against his armor with deliberate friction that sent a shudder through them both. The metallic scent of his recent battles mixed with the faint floral notes of her perfume, creating a heady combination in the space between them.

"She is down in the Atrium," she said, her voice void of the playful tone she had carried the entire time. The shift in her demeanor was palpable, like clouds suddenly obscuring the sun. "She is always there after finishing her dungeon." Her eyes darted away from his, focusing instead on a point on the far wall where intricate magitech conduits pulsed with violet light.

She pushed off him, creating both physical and emotional distance as she took two steps back. Her posture changed, shoulders straightening as if preparing for a confrontation that never came. "You're always looking for her, never for us." Her voice dropped, as if she didn't intend for him to hear the last part. The words were barely more than breath escaping her lips. The accusation hung in the air between them, fragile as glass.

"Sarah, come to my room tonight. I will try to be in bed before sunrise." He pulled her back into an embrace, his arms wrapped around her shoulders in a gesture both comforting and controlling. His thumb brushed against the nape of her neck, where small wisps of platinum blonde hair had escaped her elaborate styling. The promise in his voice was as much a command as it was an invitation.

Searanox left her after a moment. The silence stretched between them as he turned toward the center of the grand hall. The thud of his boots against the marble floor echoed in the cavernous space. He approached the central node. As he placed his hand upon its surface, the air shimmered around him, and with a flash of violet light, he appeared inside the Atrium.

He spotted Rayan in conversation with Iris behind the counters of the Atrium's unused quarter. The space stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of the bustling hall—clean but vacant, its polished counters gleaming under the magitech lights. Their voices carried faintly across the open space, a blend of Rayan's measured tones and Iris's more deliberate speech. As he walked over, his boots echoed against the pristine floor, his reflection distorting in the polished surfaces.

"Iris, Rayan," he called out, his voice cutting through their discussion. They both turned toward him as he approached the counter, Rayan offering a respectful nod, Iris fixing him with her usual unreadable silver eyes. He reached into his storage ring, a faint blue light shimmering for a moment as he retrieved one of the ruby earrings. The gemstone caught the light, casting tiny crimson reflections across the counter's surface. "Iris, this one is for you. And what are you two talking about?" His fingers lingered on the counter as he placed the earring down.

Iris took the Earring of Distant Communications while Rayan answered his question. Her clawed fingers closed around the piece, her thumb tracing the intricate silver setting with a focus that seemed almost reverent. The ruby pulsed with a subtle inner light, as if responding to her touch.

"The drones brought in the first harvest, and we were discussing the yield," Rayan said, his voice steady as he gestured toward the documents on the counter. "We had the staff work out the amounts." He pointed to a column of numbers as he spoke.

Iris continued while holding the earring, her gaze fixed on the ruby as if weighing its value against their conversation. "We checked the numbers twice. In fact, Samantha is out right now to verify them." Her fingers tightened around the jewelry, the dark fur on her wrist contrasting sharply with the silver and crimson.

"You two sound as if the harvest was catastrophically small," Searanox observed. His tone was dry, but his eyes narrowed at the implication. He shifted his weight, the creak of his armor the only sound in the sudden pause that followed.

Iris looked up, her silver eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him lean forward. "That's not it. They brought in roughly ten tons per hectare."

Searanox lifted his hand, pausing Rayan before he could add anything. His fingers hovered in the air between them as if grasping at the implications of her words. "A hectare is a hundred by a hundred meters, right? We have what, thirty of them along each wall?" His mind raced, calculating the potential. The numbers clicked into place like tumblers in a lock.

"Yes, on the four walls that don't lead into the city, we have the fields. We are sitting on more than twelve hundred tons of harvest," Rayan confirmed, his voice filled with a pride that bordered on disbelief.

Searanox leaned over the desk, his shadow falling across the documents. The numbers seemed to blur beneath his gaze. "Twelve hundred tons? That means the initial predictions were wrong. Even by a rough calculation, that's more than enough food to feed the entire city for days." The weight of that realization settled in his gut—a problem solved before it had truly begun, yet somehow creating new ones in its wake.

"It's not all consumables," Rayan started, before Searanox cut him off, their voices overlapping in urgency.

"Yes, I'm aware. I set the drone harvests up for a variety of goods. Keep monitoring the output; the drones should have already started tilling the fields again." His hand came to rest on the counter next to Iris's, their fingers nearly touching.

Iris delicately secured the ruby earring to her left ear, the gem's deep crimson catching the violet glow of the magitech conduits above. The silver setting warmed against her dark fur as she adjusted its position with clawed fingers, her movements precise despite the unaccustomed weight. She tilted her head slightly, testing the connection as if tuning an instrument. Then she nodded, her silver eyes meeting his across the counter.

<Does that mean you don't have to go out as much?> The telepathic thought formed in his mind with the clarity of spoken words, carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Searanox glanced at her sideways, noting how the ruby complemented the silver strands in her dark mane. <That would explain how they work.>

His mental response was clipped, analytical even through the mental link. His attention shifted back to Rayan, his expression hardening. "Rayan, tell Samantha she is never to leave the walls without permission. I don't care if she has an escort; we do not know what roams outside." The authority in his voice left no room for argument, each word a deliberate weight dropping into the space between them.

Rayan gave a shallow bow, his lean frame bending at an angle that spoke of practiced submission. "I will, my Lord." The title came easily to his lips, yet his eyes held a flicker of something unreadable. He straightened, his hands smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his clothes as he prepared to relay the command that would further restrict the freedoms of those who had so recently been liberated.

<My Lord... Will you graze me with your presence in my bed tonight?> Iris systematically stacked the papers of the harvest reports, her movements methodical as she created neat piles on the polished counter. Her claws clicked against the parchment, a rhythmic counterpoint to the question that formed in his mind. She lifted her gaze, giving him a knowing look that was at once submissive and possessive.

<I will be out most of the night, I will try to be back before Sunrise.> he spoke over their mental connection, the thought carrying the weight of unspoken meaning. <And Sarah will join you tonight.>

As he projected the thought, he watched Iris's fingers pause mid-stacking. The papers crinkled under her touch before she resumed her task with renewed precision.

"Be careful out there. I can smell the blood and fire on you," Iris said while setting aside her stack of papers. The ruby earring pulsed with light as she spoke, matching the subtle intensity in her silver eyes. "I'll see you upon your return."

Searanox gave her a smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the brief expression a rare crack in his usual guarded demeanor. <Make sure your fur is extra fluffy tonight.>

With those mental words, he took a few steps backward as an intermediate travel drone materialized behind him, illuminating the space with a shimmer of blue light. He mounted the drone with practiced ease, the metal cool beneath his touch as he settled into position.

The drone carried him outside through the arched entrance of the tower. The violet glow of the city's magitech conduits cast his silhouette against the night sky as he emerged. The air was cool against his face, carrying the distant sounds of the city settling into nighttime rhythms below.

He passed over the inner wall. The layout of Androxis spread beneath him like a dark tapestry threaded with magitech illumination. Streets formed perfect grids, their orderly pattern a testament to the city's instant birth rather than organic growth. The sight would have impressed most, but his mind was elsewhere.

A sudden feeling washed over him—he had forgotten something. It was a nagging sense that he had meant to do something after the second infusion transpired. Yet, even with his near-perfect mind, he could not remember what exactly it was. The thought persisted like an itch at the back of his consciousness, frustratingly just beyond reach.