CHAPTER 126: TRUST

Fin didn’t answer immediately. Grand design? His only design was to stop being hunted, to protect Meg, to carve out a space where they could be safe. If that meant dismantling the Association brick by brick, so be it. If it meant confronting Kings... he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

"They started it," he said finally, the words simple, cold.

Lyra nodded slowly. "They often do. Power abhors a vacuum, and new power is always seen as a threat by the established. The Association, for all its talk of order, is merely another player seeking to maintain its dominance." She took a small, deliberate step closer. "But Valerius is not Arclight. The Spire is the heart of their network. They will defend it fiercely. Director Gabriel is not a man to be trifled with, and he has... resources."

"I’m aware," Fin said. Mara’s fear had been genuine. Gabriel, Unit 7... he wasn’t underestimating the opposition.

"Are you?" Lyra’s gaze sharpened. "Do you know that your domain, while potent for one so new, is still vulnerable? Its energetic signature, though masked, is a beacon to those with the right senses. Your wards are rudimentary. A determined assault by a prepared force..." She let the implication hang.

"Jericho found me," Fin conceded. "He got in."

"Ah, yes. Operative Jericho." A flicker of something unreadable crossed Lyra’s face. "A blunt instrument, but effective in his own way. His... absence... will have been noted. It will have escalated their response." She smiled again, a thin, knowing curve of her lips. "Director Gabriel has likely already unleashed far more dangerous hounds."

Fin felt a chill despite himself. More dangerous than Jericho? More dangerous than Dan?

"You said you came to offer a choice," he reminded her, pushing past the unease. "Or an alliance."

"Indeed." Lyra’s expression became serious. "The Argent Covenant rarely intervenes directly. Our purpose is to preserve knowledge, to maintain a semblance of balance, however precarious, between the myriad powers that vie for control across the realms." She paused. "Your existence, your unique fusion with the Mana Cell, your nascent dominion... it presents both a threat and an opportunity to that balance."

"A threat to who?"

"To those who fear change," Lyra said. "To those whose power is built on the old order. The Association. Certain established Kings who see your domain as unclaimed territory, ripe for conquest. Should you fall, the Mana Cell within you could be weaponized, or become a catalyst for even greater instability."

"And the opportunity?" Fin pressed.

"A new power, untethered by old allegiances, old feuds," Lyra replied. "A potential counterweight. Or, perhaps, merely a new catalyst for a different kind of change." Her violet eyes held his. "The Covenant is prepared to offer you assistance, Fin Carver. Information. Resources. Perhaps even sanctuary, should the need arise."

Fin processed this. An ancient, powerful organization, observers of fate, offering help. It sounded too good to be true. There was always a price.

"And what do you want in return?" he asked, his voice flat.

Lyra’s smile was serene. "Nothing that you would not already do, young King. Survive. Grow. Learn. Understand the power you wield, and the responsibilities that come with it." She took another small step closer, her voice dropping slightly. "And, perhaps, when the time comes, remember who offered you a guiding hand when all others sought to crush you."

He stared at her, trying to read beyond the calm facade, beyond the enigmatic pronouncements. An alliance with no strings attached? Unlikely. But information, resources... those were things he desperately needed. The Association, King Kain... he was fighting blind, relying on instinct and raw power.

"What kind of information?" he asked.

"Information on your enemies," Lyra said. "Their strengths, their weaknesses, their hidden agendas. The true nature of the Kings, and the games they play. The history of the Mana Cells, and why they are so coveted, so feared." She paused. "Information on yourself. On what you are becoming."

That last part hit a nerve. What he was becoming. He didn’t know. A King? A monster? Just a survivor trying to protect his own?

"And if I refuse your generous offer?" Fin asked.

Lyra’s smile didn’t change. "Then we will continue to observe. And record your inevitable, and likely very messy, demise." Her tone was matter-of-fact, without malice. "The tapestry of fate is vast. Your thread, while currently bright, is but one among many."

He looked at Arachne. Her expression was unreadable, but he sensed her caution. This Lyra was a player on a completely different level. An alliance with her could be a lifeline. Or it could be a chain, binding him to an agenda he didn’t understand.

But the alternative... fighting alone, against enemies who knew more, had more resources, more experience... that felt like a slow death sentence.

"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked.

Lyra chuckled softly. "You don’t, young King. Trust is earned, not given. But consider this: I came to you openly. I offer knowledge that could save your life, and the lives of those you protect." Her gaze flicked towards the archway leading to the residential corridors, where Meg and Mara were. "Your current path, while born of necessity, is unsustainable. Brute force and righteous anger will only carry you so far."

She held out her hand, palm up. A small, silver disc, no bigger than his thumbnail, materialized in her palm, glowing faintly with an internal light. "A communication ward. Encrypted. Untraceable by conventional means. Should you wish to accept our offer, or merely to ask more questions, use this. We will know."

Fin looked at the disc, then back at Lyra’s face. He still didn’t trust her. Not fully. But the promise of information, of understanding... it was too tempting to ignore. And she was right. His current path was a reckless gamble.

He reached out and took the silver disc. It felt cool, smooth in his palm.

Lyra’s smile widened fractionally. "A wise choice, Fin Carver. Or at least, an interesting one." She inclined her head. "I will take my leave. The Valerius Spire awaits your attention, I believe. Be wary. Gabriel has set traps within traps. And Unit 7... they are not like the others."

Unit 7. The name again. He needed to know more about them.

Before he could ask, Lyra raised the small silver bell she carried. She rang it once. The melodic chime echoed through the hall, vibrating in the air.

And she was gone.

Not vanished in a flash of light or a swirl of shadows. Just... not there anymore. The space she had occupied was empty. The air settled, the faint scent of ozone and something ancient, like starlight, fading slowly.

Fin stared at the empty space, the silver disc still warm in his hand. Arachne moved to his side, her gaze sweeping the hall.

"She is gone, my Lord," Arachne confirmed. "No trace. Her method of departure... it was not a portal. Not teleportation as I understand it."

Fin clenched his fist around the silver disc. Loremaster. Argent Covenant. Unit 7. More players, more mysteries. The game was getting more complicated by the minute.

He looked down at the disc. Information. Knowledge. Maybe even a chance.

Or just another, more subtle trap.

He didn’t know. But he had a feeling he was about to find out. The hard way.

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Fin pocketed the silver disc. Lyra’s visit left more questions than answers, a lingering sense of unseen powers moving in the shadows. But her warning about the Spire, about Unit 7, felt genuine. Gabriel was preparing.

He walked back into the war room. Meg looked up from the schematics she’d been studying with Arachne, her brow furrowed with worry. Scarlet, who had clearly been eavesdropping from the doorway, pushed herself off the frame, her expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Okay, Boss," Scarlet said, "who was the shiny lady with the wind chimes? And what did she want? Sounded like she was offering you a timeshare in another dimension."

"She called herself Lyra," Fin said, walking back to the holographic display, which flickered back to life, showing the Valerius Spire. "Loremaster of the Argent Covenant." He saw Scarlet’s eyebrows shoot up at the name ’Argent Covenant’. Clearly, it meant something to her. Interesting.

"She offered information," Fin continued, his gaze fixed on the Spire schematics. "And a warning. Gabriel knows we’re coming. He’s reinforced the Spire. And he’s deployed something called Unit 7."

Scarlet let out a low whistle. "Unit 7? Seriously? Gabriel’s not messing around." She ran a hand through her red hair. "Those guys are bad news. Black ops psychos. Association’s bogeymen. They don’t do arrests, they do... wet work. Messy."

"You know them?" Fin asked, turning to her.

"Know of them," Scarlet corrected. "Varn... he had dealings with the Association sometimes. Unit 7 were the ones they called when they needed a problem to disappear permanently, no questions asked, no witnesses left. They’re fanatics. And damn hard to kill." Her usual smirk was gone, replaced by a grim seriousness.

Fin looked at Meg. Her face was pale. "So... it’s even more dangerous now?" she asked, her voice small.

"It was always dangerous," Fin replied, his voice flat. "This just confirms Gabriel isn’t underestimating us." He looked back at the Spire. "Our plan needs to be tighter. Faster. In and out before they can fully mobilize their elite response."