Page 157 of Interion

I'd noticed this on several occasions. Serguei had no filter—every vulgar, crude thought was handled matter-of-factly, as if he heard such things constantly.

“There's no record of Ravena having a child with Serguei. How did that happen without anyone knowing?”

“Not even Serguei knew about me. Before she died, she spent two years on a 'mission'—that's when she hid the pregnancy and gave birth in another city. When I turned ten, he came for me, and even with all the power the city had, no one could stop him. He brought me to Interion, erased every memory of my old life, and turned me into what I am today.”

I swallowed hard. That alone was reason enough to hate someone. The Drutes had done the same to me, but instead of turning me into a weapon, they'd turned me into a slave.

“And what was your relationship with him like?” I asked.

“Bad,” Zion said with a humorless laugh. “During my childhood, Serguei would sweep through my mind regularly—and everyone else's around him—but with me it was always worse, because when he looked at me, all he saw was my mother. Things only went smoothly between us when he was in control. He was violent and unstable, couldn't rein in his paranoia, and ended up taking it out on me.”

“Then, when I turned sixteen, I realized he'd started modifying my mind, trying to erase parts of my personality that he saw as weakness. I think his goal was to turn me into an exact copy of himself, so that when the wars came, I wouldn't care about anything but winning.”

“That's horrible, Zion,” I said, imagining how difficult that time must have been for him.

“It went on for years until one day Kaori, Akira, and I...” He paused, and I knew this was where things had gone wrong. “We'd just graduated and thought we were ready for a mission, even though the general said we weren't. We...”

He cut himself off again. Since I was on the other side, I couldn't see him, but I imagined his face showed distress. I knew him well enough to know there'd be a furrow in his brow—a sign of how deeply it hurt. Beneath my feet, the ocean stirred. Waves crashed against each other, churning up foam.

“Anyway, a lot happened. After Akira's funeral, we fought—and it wasn't like before. We ended up in a mental battle, and that time, I managed to pull away using the shadows and my own barrier. That was the day we severed ties, but sometimes I still feel his curiosity and restlessness probing at my barrier.”

“You feel it?” I asked, not sure what he meant.

“I do. But that's a topic for another time—right now I want to focus on teaching you,” he said, and it was as if the barrier recoiled from my touch, pushing my hand away.

“What's happening?” I asked, staring at the barrier as it rippled and turned black as onyx.

“I'm fortifying it. This is how it looks when I'm under attack—thicker and completely numb. If you attack it, it'll repel you.”

Right in front of me, his black wall solidified, and even the ocean beneath my feet grew darker.

“What's all this water beneath us?”

“That's the subconscious. It's where the essence of our souls resides—you shouldn't go in there. And you should never enter someone else's, because once it's invaded, either you kill or you die.”

I shuddered at the thought. That was how Serguei eliminated people.

“Now that you know how everything works, we'll head back to your side,” I heard him say as a door opened in his wall and a Zion made of dark mist stepped through. The door closed, becoming part of the wall again. I stayed quiet, thinking about everything he'd just told me. Now some things made sense, and something told me Serguei was somehow connected to Akira's death.

“I'm sorry for everything that happened,” I murmured as we walked—him made of shadows, me of red energy.

“Don't be. It's in the past now. Despite everything, Serguei made me strong. Strong enough to fight him and win. Not just mentally, because he's also the best warrior I've ever known.”

“I can't imagine him fighting. I know he was a member of the night squad and led from the front lines, but he's too pompous for that.”

“Trust me, he's Jupiter's best warrior. He always said he was taught by the greatest warrior ever to walk this world.”

I stopped in the middle of the rainbow-colored path.

“Is there a problem?” Zion asked.

“Serguei said my mother was the one who trained him,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

“Lagherta was the woman who trained him? He never mentioned that.”

Once the information sank in, I started walking beside him again, still a bit shocked to learn that Serguei’s fighting style came from my mother. The tunnel began to brighten, and we stopped at the edge of my mind. But now, with Zion by my side, I could see it differently.

“This wasn’t like this a few minutes ago,” I murmured, stunned by what I saw. It was my mind, but I’d never seen it this way.