Page 288 of Interion

The line went silent, but he could hear Kaori's breathing grow heavy on the other end. This hurt more than any wound he'd ever taken in battle—hurt like someone was flaying his skin with a metal rasp. He heard her voice one last time:

“Loyalty, courage, and honor, Zion Voluz. You may have forgotten, but I never will.” The Vinturian motto hung between them, wrapping him in nostalgic childhood memories that only muddled his thoughts further. He heard Kaori sniffling, trying to hold back tears, and then she finished: “Grab your girl and disappear from Interion. And please, never look for me. This is goodbye.”

The line went dead, and the general lowered the phone, feeling shattered. Ambrose stared at him in astonishment—he'd heard the entire conversation.

Still in a catatonic state, Zion gathered his partner into his arms while the doctor rushed around the room, grabbing a bag with the girl's belongings, a change of warm clothes, and the bow they'd recovered from the test. He handed everything to Zion and kissed his student's forehead. He gave his blessing, touching two fingers to her forehead and bringing them to his nose. Ambrose understood this was probably the last time he'd see her. He'd known, from the day he first laid eyes on the descendant girl, that this parting would come eventually. He just didn't think it would hurt this much.

“Thank you for everything, Ambrose,” Zion said, stepping back. “I'll be forever grateful for everything you've done.”

“Just take care of her,” the doctor whispered through his tears.

Before he finished the sentence, Zion was gone. Two seconds later, the doctor felt the blocking wave hit him. The healing vanished from his chest.

Δ

Zion realized he'd escaped by a hair—as soon as he left, he felt the barrier rising at his back. While traveling through the shadows, he recovered enough from the conversation with Kaori to focus on the situation at hand. His eyes radiated fury, along with an overwhelming urge to retaliate. Elitium had declared war by ordering Kyller's execution, and for that, there would be no going back. No excuse or forgiveness could remedy the conflict between them. He could forgive acts committed against himself, but against Kyller? Zion wasn't capable of forgiving something like that. Apparently, the wheels of fate were turning—and not for the better.

He transported them to a temporarily safe location—a place he'd prepared for their honeymoon after the test. The idea had been to be alone with her, far from civilization, since he had no idea what would happen when they sealed the partnership bond.

He materialized in front of the wooden chalet in the Dornéu region—a safe place, known only to him and Serguei. He climbed the varnished wooden stairs and kicked the front door open with his partner still in his arms. He wanted to laugh from sheer desperation, thinking he'd imagined this scene before, but from a very different perspective. He kicked the door shut behind him, ran through the living room, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to the upper suite.

He did so only to find himself face to face with an intruder.

The shadows lashed against the walls, sensing the sonar’s presence.

He sat casually, legs crossed, admiring the view through the glass wall. He wore a wine-colored tunic and was wrapped in a worn green cloak—dirt-stained, torn, with an ancient look, like something from the era when the Great War broke out. He was tall and thin, his curly red hair hanging dirty and loose around his face. In his hands, he held a teacup.

“I was waiting for you, son of the night,” the sonar said.

The shadows clustered around Zion, and he growled at the man, who didn’t even bother to look at him.

“If you value your life, I advise you to leave immediately.”

Zion pressed Kyller against his body, ready to flee if necessary.

The sonar finally turned his eyes toward him—they were blood red, and pink tears streamed down his bronzed face.

“If you value your partner’s life, I advise you to place her on the bed and listen to what I have to say.” His voice was calm yet authoritative. He wasn’t the sonar Zion remembered. “I know you don’t trust me—my eyes have shown me that too. But if you don’t listen and do as I ask, her mind will be shattered, and we don’t have much time.”

Zion assessed the man, who smelled of something earthy, like moss and dry leaves. He gave off a strange feeling.

“Why are you here?”

“Should I be somewhere else? The future of the world will be decided in this room. I saw it with my own eyes.”

He pointed to the horrifying globes.

Zion didn’t know what to do with the girl in his arms or with the strange man before him. He sighed and ordered the shadows to surround the intruder; some tendrils bound him to the armchair. The sonar didn’t bother to move, just patiently observed the black serpents encircling him. When he saw he wouldn’t be attacked, Zion placed Kyller on the bed, brushing aside the rose petals. He threw everything aside, and a bottle of champagne along with two crystal glasses crashed against the wall and shattered.

“She would have liked it,” he murmured, watching the clear liquid drip down the wall. “It’s a shame it ends badly, but given whose son you are, I’d advise you to get used to tragic endings.”

“What do you want?” Zion growled, losing his composure. He stood and faced the blood-red eyes.

“I want to help.”

“Help? Do you even know what’s happening?” At that moment, a light went on in his mind as he realized the power the sonar had. “Wait, can you sense what’s inside her?”

“I can. As can all the special beings on the continent.”