Chapter 114: The Thirty Percent Solution

Cyrus was already striding toward the door, his earlier tenderness replaced by razor-sharp focus.

"Rina’s condition deteriorated. Isabelle can’t stabilize her."

Kane’s blood turned to ice. He grabbed the first jacket he could find, pulling it on as he followed Cyrus out of the penthouse.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough that Isabelle called eight times in thirty minutes."

The elevator ride felt endless.

Kane paced the small space like a caged animal.

Cyrus stood perfectly still, but Kane could feel the fury radiating from him.

"She was stable last night." Kane’s voice cracked slightly. "Isabelle said her frost-webbing would hold."

"Well, things have changed."

Kane pressed his palms against his temples, guilt clawing at his chest.

Had he made the wrong choice? Should he have taken Rina to the Bureau’s medical wing instead?

The BSA had protocols for half-spirits, even if they weren’t perfect. At least they had experience with unstable conditions.

"This is my fault," Kane muttered. "Maybe I should have just reported Rina’s conditions to the Bureau."

"You gave her options the Bureau wouldn’t have provided."

Cyrus’s tone was clipped and professional, but Kane caught the underlying tension.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to reveal the parking garage.

Cyrus was moving before Kane could blink, his long strides eating up the distance to the Lamborghini.

Kane scrambled to keep up, dread settling in his stomach like a stone.

The Lamborghini sliced through Feilun’s early morning traffic like a blade through silk.

Cyrus took a corner so sharp that Kane’s shoulder slammed against the door.

"Cyrus. What exactly did Isabelle say?"

Cyrus said nothing as he was focused on the road.

Kane gripped the door handle as Cyrus tailgated a delivery truck before swerving into the next lane without signaling.

"Dragons and their secrets," Kane muttered, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

Real worry gnawed at him. Rina had looked so fragile yesterday, flickering between solid and translucent like a dying lightbulb.

Cyrus ran a red light, the engine roaring as they shot through the intersection. A pedestrian jumped back onto the curb, shouting something Kane couldn’t hear over the wind.

"Cyrus—"

"She’s dying, Kane."

The words hit like a physical blow. Cyrus’s perfect composure had cracked, revealing the raw fear underneath.

Kane stopped asking questions.

Minutes later, Cyrus threw his car keys at the valet without slowing his stride, the metal clattering against the poor man’s chest.

Employees scattered like startled birds as Cyrus stormed through the lobby, Kane half-jogging to keep pace.

The elevator ride to the medical floors felt like ascending into another world.

Cyrus’s palm slammed against the biometric scanner, crimson light washing over his features as the security system recognized him.

The doors opened with a soft hiss.

The restricted medical wing was a stark contrast to Veyr Corp’s polished corporate facade.

The air hung thick and cold, antiseptic sharp in Kane’s nostrils. Faint runes pulsed along doorframes, their blue glow casting eerie shadows on pristine white walls.

Medical staff moved with urgency, their footsteps muffled but their tension palpable.

Isabelle stood waiting by a reinforced door, her usually immaculate coat wrinkled at the edges.

Her ice-blue eyes were tight with strain, silver hair escaping its perfect bun in wisps.

She waved them forward without preamble.

"Status," Cyrus demanded, his voice cutting through the clinical quiet like a blade.

"Fragmenting faster than anticipated. The frost-webbing is failing."

Kane’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Through the reinforced glass, Kane saw Rina’s motionless form on the medical bed, her skin translucent as parchment.

Frost patterns covered her body like delicate lace, but the crystalline webbing Isabelle had woven was breaking apart.

Hairline cracks spread across the ice with each shallow breath Rina took, spiderwebbing outward like a windshield about to shatter.

Kane pressed his palm against the glass. 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

"How long does she have?"

"Hours. Maybe less."

Rina’s body convulsed suddenly, and the frost-web cracked audibly. Warning glyphs flared angry red around the containment machinery, their hum rising to an urgent whine.

Isabelle’s jaw tightened.

"The synthetic binding agent is consuming her spirit essence faster than I can replace it. Every time she fragments, she loses more of herself."

Kane watched another convulsion ripple through Rina’s form, her edges flickering between solid and ethereal.

"There has to be something—"

"Unless we can neutralize the binding agent completely, she’ll dissipate within the day."

Cyrus stepped closer to the glass, his reflection overlapping Rina’s prone figure.

"If the frost-web shatters completely, we’re looking at two possible outcomes."

Isabelle’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

"Rina fragments into raw spirit energy and disperses harmlessly... or she detonates."

Kane’s face drained of color. "Detonates how?"

"Think of a spirit bomb going off in the heart of Feilun. The blast radius would level several city blocks."

The weight of Isabelle’s words settled over Kane like a shroud.

This wasn’t just about saving Rina anymore—thousands of innocent lives hung in the balance.

Kane’s hands trembled against the glass. "How many people—"

"Conservatively? Fifteen thousand casualties in the immediate blast zone. Tens of thousands more from the fallout."

Cyrus’s reflection went rigid, his eyes burning with crimson fire.

"Options," Cyrus commanded.

"The medical team developed an experimental treatment an hour ago. It involves flooding her system with concentrated spirit essence to stabilize her core, then using controlled detonation chambers to safely release the excess energy."

Kane looked between them. "Controlled detonation?"

"We essentially trigger a series of micro-explosions within her spirit matrix, bleeding off the volatile energy in manageable bursts." Isabelle’s ice-blue eyes fixed on Cyrus.

"But it requires authorization to use the deep-level labs. The ones with blast containment."

Cyrus was already moving toward the security panel. "Survival probability?"

"Thirty percent. Maybe less."

Cyrus turned to Kane, his crimson eyes searching Kane’s face.

"What do you think?"

Kane’s stomach lurched. Those odds were barely better than letting Rina fragment naturally.

But thirty percent was still better than zero.

"We have to try." Kane’s voice came out stronger than he felt.

"She came to us for help. We can’t just let her die."

Cyrus nodded once, sharp and decisive. He pressed his palm against the authorization scanner, crimson energy flooding the biometric reader.

"Full authorization granted. Prepare the deep-level containment labs immediately."

Isabelle’s fingers flew over her tablet, sending rapid-fire commands to the medical team.

"Sir, if the procedure fails catastrophically, the board will—"

"I’ll take full responsibility." Cyrus’s voice cut through her concern like ice.