Chapter 632: Her Sister’s Keeper
Haruki departed with considerably more urgency than Chen had.
Seraphina checked the time. Four hours until her meeting with Satori Nakano.
She opened another file on her tablet. This one contained everything they knew about Kenji Nakano. Which was frustratingly little, given that someone had systematically purged most of his records from the VHC archives eighteen years ago.
Someone with very high clearance.
Someone who understood exactly how to manipulate the organization’s internal systems.
Someone who might have been trying to protect something. Or someone.
The fragments they’d recovered painted an interesting picture. A brilliant researcher. Pioneer in trans-dimensional energy theory. Lead scientist on a classified project that had been erased so thoroughly that even its name had been scrubbed from official documentation.
Project Prometheus.
She’d found that designation buried in a corrupted backup file three months ago. Since then, her private investigation had uncovered pieces of something that made her deeply uncomfortable.
Artificial Aspect induction. The holy grail that every Zero in the world desperately wanted to believe was possible. The theoretical foundation that, if proven viable, would shatter the entire social order built around genetic manifestation.
And now Kenji Nakano’s son had manifested an Aspect at eighteen years old.
Impossible.
Except that it had happened. The evidence was undeniable. The boy had gone from Zero to tournament champion in six months. His growth rate exceeded every established model by factors that shouldn’t be mathematically possible.
Either the universe had decided to randomly break its own rules, or someone had found a way to cheat.
Seraphina preferred the latter explanation. It was far more dangerous, but at least it implied causality she could understand and control.
Her personal line chimed with an incoming call. The identifier showed her sister’s name.
She answered immediately. "Celeste."
"Sera." Her sister’s voice carried the particular tension of someone trying very hard to sound calm. "I saw the news this morning. About Satori and the Cabana girl."
"I’m handling it."
"The tabloids are going insane. They’re connecting it to me. To us. There are photos of him at the Gala with me, and now photos of him with Reyna, and people are speculating about—"
"Celeste." Seraphina kept her voice gentle but firm. "Breathe."
A long pause. Then: "I’m sorry. I just... I don’t understand what’s happening. I thought he was interested in me. At the Gala, when we talked, it felt genuine. And now he’s with her, and the media is making it seem like I was just—"
"The media will say whatever generates the most engagement. You know this."
"I know. But it still hurts."
Seraphina closed her eyes for a moment. This was the part of leadership that exhausted her most. Not the political maneuvering or the intelligence operations or even the occasional necessity of removing problematic individuals. It was the constant, endless work of protecting her sister from a world that would devour her innocent heart without hesitation.
"I’m meeting with him this afternoon. I’ll learn more about his intentions then."
"You’re meeting with Satori?"
"It’s part of his internship evaluation. Standard procedure."
"Can I... can I come?"
"No."
"But—"
"Celeste." Seraphina let a hint of steel enter her voice. "I need you to trust me. This situation is more complicated than you realize, and I need to handle it without worrying about your emotional state in the room."
Silence on the other end.
"You don’t think I can control myself."
"I think you’re eighteen years old and experiencing romantic disappointment for the first time in your life. That’s not a criticism. It’s an observation."
"It’s not like I’ve never been disappointed before."
"Not like this. Not by someone who saw past the performance and made you feel seen." Seraphina softened her tone. "I understand, Celeste. More than you know. But this particular situation requires a certain approach, and I can’t deploy that approach effectively if you’re in the room wanting to know why he kissed another girl."
Another long pause.
"Fine. But you’ll tell me what happens?"
"Everything you need to know."
"That’s not the same thing."
"No. It isn’t."
Celeste sighed. "I hate it when you do that."
"I know."
"Love you, Sera."
"Love you too. Now go practice your forms. The tournament selection trials are next month, and you can’t afford to be distracted."
The call ended.
Seraphina set down her phone and rubbed her temples. The headache was getting worse.
She pulled up the intelligence summary on Satori’s known associates. The list was growing. Natalia Kuzmina, daughter of a B-Rank Hunter, previously registered as his stepsister, now suspected to be in a romantic relationship with him despite the familial connection. Emi Aoyama, the healer, emotional support role. Skylar Amane, the phantom blade user, mysterious background, possible assassin training. Celeste Vance, her own sister, targeted during the Academy’s Black Gate incident.
And now Reyna Cabana.
The boy was collecting powerful women like trading cards. Each one brought different capabilities, different connections, different resources to his growing network.
It was almost impressive.
It was definitely dangerous.
A knock at her office door interrupted her analysis. Not the chime of the electronic entry system. An actual knock.
Only three people in the building had the authority to knock on her door rather than request entry through the proper channels.
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal Helena Vasquez, Director of the Prometheus Archive. A position that officially didn’t exist, running a department that had been erased from all public records, managing research that would destabilize civilization if it ever saw daylight.
Helena was a small woman in her fifties with gray-streaked hair pulled back in a severe bun and eyes that had seen things no human should witness. She’d been running the Archive since before Seraphina took office. The only person in the organization who might actually know more secrets than the President herself.
"We need to talk about Thursday’s meeting," Helena said without preamble.
"I’m handling it."
"Are you?" Helena crossed to the window and stood beside her. "Because the boy walking into this building tomorrow carries information that could end us all."
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