CHAPTER 224: CHAPTER 224: ELIAS’ SUFFERING

The private elevator hummed as it ascended through the central tower of Numen Corporation, its glass walls revealing flashes of the atrium below, dark marble, gilded edges, and the faint pulse of ether conduits that ran like glowing veins through the structure. The effect was both breathtaking and deeply irritating to someone who’d woken up nauseous.

Elias stood between Victor and Ashwin, both of whom seemed to radiate a kind of calm professionalism that made his irritation feel almost petty.

He crossed his arms, muttering, "You’d think a building full of people with divine power would know how to install softer lighting."

Ashwin, standing a measured step behind, answered smoothly. "It was calibrated to Mr. Numen’s specifications, sir."

"Of course it was," Elias said, under his breath.

Victor didn’t look up from the thin digital slate in his hand. "Would you prefer I turn down the sun next?"

Elias glanced at him, deadpan. "I’d settle for a dimmer switch."

Ashwin’s reflection in the elevator glass betrayed the faintest hint of a smile before he straightened again, the picture of restraint.

The lift chimed softly as it reached the top floor, the executive wing. Beyond the glass doors lay the nerve center of the corporation: The Internal Affairs Division floor, where every whisper carried weight and every step echoed authority.

Victor stepped out first, his stride unhurried, with the grace that came from absolute certainty rather than effort. Elias followed, more reluctant, adjusting his cuffs as if to armor himself in irritation, and Ashwin brought up the rear with the quiet poise of someone who’d already memorized every exit route and potential threat.

The corridor stretched wide and polished ahead of them, walls of smoked glass reflecting their silhouettes against the backdrop of the city below. Subtle threads of ether light traced through the panels like living circuitry, pulsing in time with the building’s energy grid. The place was immaculate, almost eerily so, like someone had engineered perfection and then decided it still wasn’t quite enough.

Elias let out a low whistle. "Every time I come here, I’m convinced this building eats people."

Ashwin’s tone was neutral, though amusement flickered at the edges. "Only those without clearance, sir."

"Comforting," Elias muttered. "I’ll sleep easier knowing bureaucracy still terrifies me. Also, stop calling me sir. It’s weird."

"I’m in public; do you prefer ’master’?" Ashwin said with a grin that promised trouble.

Elias stopped walking, turning halfway toward him with an expression that managed to blend disbelief, exhaustion, and the kind of calm that only came before violence. "If you call me that in front of anyone, I’ll personally see to it your next assignment involves data entry in the sub-basement."

Ashwin’s grin widened by half a millimeter, a measurable act of rebellion for someone normally carved out of discipline. "Understood, Doctor."

Victor, who had been silent until then, finally looked up from his slate, crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "He’s testing boundaries again."

"I noticed," Elias said. "He’s also enjoying it."

"I’m merely ensuring operational morale," Ashwin replied, tone as smooth as polished steel.

Elias gestured vaguely at him. "See? That’s the sound of a man who’s never had a bad performance review."

Victor slid the slate under his arm and reached out just long enough to brush his fingers against the small of Elias’s back, a grounding, subtle touch. "Ignore him," he said quietly. "He thrives on fear."

"I don’t," Ashwin said. "I thrive on the chaos that you create."

"That’s worse," Elias muttered.

They continued down the corridor. The hum of ether conduits beneath the floor was faint but constant, like the heartbeat of something alive and ancient. Employees they passed gave small, practiced bows, gestures more ritual than respectful. Victor acknowledged each one with a nod that carried the weight of a blessing and a warning in equal measure.

"Do they all do that?" Elias whispered once they were out of earshot. "I never saw it until now."

"You weren’t paying attention to them. Mostly because you wanted unsupervised snacks from the vending machine."

Elias shot him a look, half affronted, half resigned. "That was one time."

"Two," Victor corrected without missing a beat.

"I’m a functional adult that requires unhealthy snacks from time to time." Elias said, trying his best to not look overwhelmed, again, by the attention he was getting from the staff.

Victor’s mouth curved, slow and unapologetic. "You mean the snacks you tried to hide from me?"

"I didn’t hide anything; I just snuck out of your busy office and had a date with the vending machine. You stole them anyways."

"You were just taxed." Said Victor without shame, while steering Elias to his office.

Elias stopped mid-stride, pressing a hand to his forehead like a man making peace with his own doomed fate. "Right. Of course. Divine taxation. How silly of me to expect mercy in this economy."

Ashwin’s voice came from behind them, calm and far too pleased. "For what it’s worth, Doctor, I only took the chips."

Elias gave a small, despairing laugh. "Oh good. My suffering was a group project."

Victor’s tone was all composure. "You needed nutritious food and you need it even more now that you are pregnant."

"One would believe that being mated to a god would have some perks, like eating and drinking anything without dying. You know... the minimum?"

Victor glanced at him, utterly unbothered. "You’re alive, aren’t you? That seems like a considerable perk."

Elias groaned. "That’s the bare minimum, Victor. I’m growing a potential demigod, not filing taxes."

Ashwin made a quiet sound that might have been a laugh but came out perfectly polite. "Technically, sir, both processes involve suffering and paperwork."

Elias turned, giving him a flat look. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

Ashwin inclined his head slightly. "Morale maintenance, Doctor. As previously stated."

"More like morale destruction," Elias muttered. "First the snacks, now the sympathy deficit."

Victor’s hand brushed lightly against his lower back, a familiar touch that carried an infuriating amount of calm. "You were the one who wanted to continue working. That requires sustenance."

Elias shot him a glare. "Sustenance, not celery sticks and betrayal."

Victor’s mouth curved faintly. "I replaced the chocolate with vitamin bars."

"That’s blasphemy," Elias said, horrified.

Ashwin coughed again, almost losing composure this time. "To be fair, Doctor, they were imported."

"Imported lies," Elias snapped, though his voice had softened at the edges. He was trying not to laugh and failing miserably. "I swear, between the two of you, I’m one bad day away from worshipping the vending machine again."

"Don’t," Victor said mildly. "It still remembers you."

Elias blinked. "That’s ominous."

Victor stepped ahead, his crimson eyes glinting as he pushed open the final set of glass doors. "So am I."