Chapter 129: The White Chamber
In a pristine white room, filled with strange machines that seemed to belong to a world far removed from the one they knew, a woman in a white coat with a serious expression asked:
"How much longer until they wake up? It should be about time."
The two women lying asleep in the center of one of the machines faintly heard those distant murmurs.
"And shouldn’t there be a man here? Why are there two women? I’m certain I had a daughter and a son... Cassian."
"It’s strange..." replied the man beside her. "With the mana you infused into the machine, it should have recognized the mark of your soul essence and brought your direct descendants here. I suppose your son must have died..."
The woman frowned.
"That’s impossible..." Her face began to show deep sadness, but she quickly returned to her usual indifference. "And why did that other woman come with my daughter? Explain it to me, Viktor," she asked coldly, pointing at Cassane.
"I suppose she was dragged along by the flow... These things can malfunction, Diana."
The woman looked extremely displeased. It was unclear whether it was due to the news of her son’s death or the annoying presence of an outsider in that place.
Margery and Cassane remained asleep—or at least that was how it appeared. The latter had managed to catch some of the words spoken by the two people, though her mind, still dazed from the forced journey and the machine’s effects, couldn’t process much.
"Notify me when they wake up," the woman’s voice was heard again, followed by the hiss of an automatic door opening and closing once she left the room.
...
At the Sterling mansion, the atmosphere during lunch was heavy.
The director, the two dukes, and their two precious sons shared the table in uncomfortable silence.
Both fathers remained oblivious to the profound changes their sons were undergoing. They had never paid much attention to the development of their own powers, assuming that having Sylvia to safeguard the family name was more than enough—although Julius’s innate talent had always been their greatest pride.
Fengyue observed his parents in silence. In this life, she no longer had a sister, but the dynamics of his current family didn’t seem very different from the previous one: there was a certain superficial warmth, yet secrets and misunderstandings distanced them irreparably.
Sensing that the atmosphere in the dining room was becoming increasingly unbearable, she decided to step back in her consciousness and switch places with Seraphine, thinking she might handle the situation more naturally.
But she was wrong.
Although technically this was more her family than Fengyue’s, Seraphine had never held a particularly dazzling or influential position among them.
Feeling cornered, Seraphine looked at her "grandmother" with a pleading gaze, begging for help.
However, Sylvia was caught in her own dilemma. The director kept her eyes fixed on Julius, internally conflicted. What she wanted most in that moment was to completely avoid the young man and dodge a topic she preferred to bury in oblivion—so much so that she herself pretended not to know anything about it.
But reality wasn’t that complicated, just painful. Her sister had been brutally murdered in the past.
Back then, she hadn’t possessed the strength necessary to protect her. The faces of the men responsible had become blurred over the years, engraved in her mind only as shadows because she had watched it all hidden, consumed by panic.
Under the table, the director clenched her fist so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Transcendent... she thought bitterly. If only she had possessed that level of power back then, history would have been completely different.
...
Lucius Demor had requested an emergency meeting with the elders.
These old men didn’t usually gather so frequently. The last time had been due to Sylvia’s surprising advancement and certain critical matters concerning the empire.
That one of the members was now demanding another session so soon after the previous one deeply annoyed those lazy elders.
Cassandra held the final say in the council, but faced with the insistence of the man from House Vitalis—who only carried the Demor surname out of royal courtesy—she eventually sighed in resignation.
Besides, Lucius had a valid point: the crown prince needed to ascend to the throne as soon as possible, since Alric was no longer in any condition to make decisions or continue representing the Empire.
However, Cassandra glanced sideways at her newly accepted disciple, Elara, and immediately remembered the terrifying man who moved behind her.
Being forced like this was something she disliked immensely.
Her eyes darkened for a moment, and a playful smile began to form on her lips.
Things won’t go the way you want, Lucius... she thought to herself. If my own power isn’t enough to stop you, I’m afraid I’m no longer the final boss of this story.
...
Xingyue and Cassian hadn’t gone very far, but far enough to ensure complete privacy—at least that was something he had made sure of.
They were in one of the countless hidden rooms in that labyrinthine place.
The two separated.
With the woman now somewhat calmer, they simply looked at each other in silence for a moment.
She looked uncertain and a little worried, a trace of doubt she had completely forgotten earlier due to the excitement of the reunion.
"Master... are you angry because I came to see you?" Her eyes, which looked like those of an abandoned puppy or kitten, stared at the floor in distress. "Siyin told me not to come, don’t blame her..." she continued in a murmur.
"I’m not angry, Xingyue," Cassian’s eyes softened, and his voice carried that special tenderness.
"Are you sure?" she asked, as if desperately needing reassurance.
"Yes..." But Cassian couldn’t finish the sentence.
The woman threw herself around his neck again, rubbing against him with obsessive love.
"Stop, Xingyue, stop," he requested.
But she didn’t listen. She simply flashed a smile full of happiness and, with a playful movement, pushed Cassian onto the floor of the room.
She quickly positioned herself on top of him and began moving provocatively, closing any distance to feel him closer.
She inhaled his characteristic scent deeply, as if she could never get enough of it, or as if the long absence forced her to fill herself with him once again.
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