Free Web NovelChapter 161: Meeting Her Majesty Again (1)
In the topmost floor of the Tower, Deputy Commander Brandon of the Royal Guard was seated at his large desk. He wore chunky glasses and was immersed in examining a pile of documents that had arrived from distant places.
With a flurry, Roy entered, clutching a bunch of ancient-looking papers.
Brandon shifted his attention from the shimmering virtual screen before him. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, pushing up his glasses for a clearer view.
"Has Luther made his way down yet?" A tinge of anxiety colored Roy’s voice. He had some crucial matters to share with Luther.
Brandon responded with a mild, reassuring smile. "Not as of now. Isn’t His Majesty having a discussion with your SRD’s Kestrel today? Luther is accompanying her."
Holding tightly to his documents, Roy took a few anxious steps, then chose to sit on the plush couch facing the desk.
Without lifting his gaze, Brandon’s fingers danced across the virtual screen, typing away efficiently.
This elegant space was the designated office for the head of the Royal Guard. Virtual rays of sunlight streamed from above, and just beyond the door, an indoor garden flourished with the gentle sounds of water and the chirpy melodies of birds. Inside the Tower, tranquility reigned, free from pressing worries.
While Brandon was engrossed in his work, Roy fidgeted, fingers twitching with unease.
Noticing the restlessness, Brandon, ever the gentleman, asked with genuine concern, "Is something amiss?"
True to his nature, Brandon always exuded a sense of calm and respect.
Roy hesitated, then admitted, "There’s information I need Luther to review. I’m hoping he can pass it on to Her Majesty."
It was common knowledge that Brandon was essentially Luther’s trusted aide. Luther often delegated responsibilities to Brandon, so conversing openly in his presence was no issue.
Roy, mostly lost in thought, mumbled, "Something’s just not adding up. I believe I need to alert Her Majesty immediately so she can make an informed choice."
Roy hailed from the Empire’s most laid-back SRD unit, accustomed to living a life of luxury and ease. Yet, in this moment, he looked quite unkempt – his hair disarranged and clothes out of order, as if he’d been wrestling with concerns for several days.
"These records... they’re perplexing," Roy continued.
Brandon stole a brief glance at Roy, seemingly unmoved by the revelation. Standing gracefully, he fetched a glass of water, offering it to Roy. Gratefully accepting it, Roy took a moment to compose himself, then drank.
Just then, a tall figure with sleek black hair made his entrance. This alpha male, with his striking appearance and agile stride, was hard to ignore.
Roy recognized the newcomer. This was the man entrusted with Kestrel’s safety during the visit to the Eyehole. His name, Roy recalled, was Ren.
As Ren closed in on Brandon, he stooped slightly, catching whispered words from Brandon. Roy tried to maintain composure, his eyes dropping to the water in his glass. The water’s clear surface gradually settled, intriguingly capturing the reflections of the two alphas before him. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Roy pondered, somewhat dizzily, "Isn’t it odd how water can mirror people in this manner?" His eyes followed the gentle wave patterns forming on the water’s surface.
At some point, without Roy even realizing it, both Brandon and Ren had positioned themselves directly in front of him.
A brilliant blue glow emanated from Brandon’s left eye, hidden partially behind his glasses. And mysteriously, a grand blue butterfly began to unveil its left wing from behind him.
Gently yet purposefully, Brandon reached out with one hand, resting it over Roy’s eyes and forehead, while his other hand grasped Ren’s.
Brandon’s current form echoed the appearance of Taja from the Eyehole. One side of him exhibited beta-like characteristics, displaying a psychic incarnation akin to a butterfly, while the other half appeared as his regular self.
"Proceed. His psychic barriers are down," Brandon directed, the luminescent hue of his left eye becoming even more intense.
Frozen on the couch, Roy allowed Brandon’s hand to stay on his face, seemingly disconnected from his surroundings.
Seizing this opportunity, Ren delved into the depths of Roy’s psyche.
Roy’s psychic landscape revealed itself as a quaint manor nestled on a hill, with floral beauty surrounding it and a majestic banyan tree, its roots cascading downwards. The building shadowed by this tree showcased an old-world charm and a spacious corridor, mirroring the ancient structure of the research department.
Next to Ren hovered Brandon’s psychic incarnation—yet only half-formed, with the sole blue butterfly wing fluttering gracefully.
"Move swiftly. I’m not a real beta. This connection won’t last for long," Brandon’s voice, both in reality and the mindscape, cautioned Ren.
With determination, Ren walked towards the establishment, passing through the bloom-laden yard. He spotted a familiar face—Roy. He sat leisurely under the banyan, engrossed in reading some paperwork while savoring tea.
Drawing closer, Ren asked gently, "What truths have you stumbled upon?"
This version of Roy, rooted in the mental realm, looked somewhat overwhelmed. Yet, he didn’t seem perturbed by Ren’s abrupt presence. Responding to Ren’s query, he tapped on a virtual screen floating before him.
"It’s all so perplexing," he admitted, his gaze fixated on the screen. "I’ve scoured all our confidential documents, and there’s an eerie void in the records for this specific year. It’s as if our predecessors never ventured to any of the Polluted Zones for their studies. But that’s absurd. I vividly remember them setting out."
With newfound purpose, he rose and ventured into the building, with Ren trailing silently behind.
Their journey led them to an expansive archive chamber, its expanses filled with towering piles of manually penned documents.
From this overwhelming array, Roy extracted an ancient-looking pouch. "After considerable searching, I’ve managed to locate a record that evaded proper archiving."
He gingerly removed the handwritten notes contained within, reverently running his fingers over them, then began to read aloud. "These notes bear no signature, but I’m certain of their origin. This is Lainey’s handwriting."
The very Lainey he referenced was Kestrel’s mother.
Page by page, Roy sifted through the notes.
All of this played out in his psychic realm, with Ren steering the sequence, compelling Roy to reenact memories buried deep within him.
Ren stood there, next to the pages, his eyes darting ever so slightly as they absorbed the content of the notes. These notes, lost to time, were the work of Kestrel’s mother, Lainey, written with precision many years ago. Each line she penned was written with care and filled with intricate details.
In the past, Lainey and her team had bravely ventured into the Eyehole, diving deep into its underground caves. They faced powerful foes, and while trying to escape, they stumbled into a maze hidden below the ground. This winding maze was adorned with various wall paintings. These artworks painted a vivid story of the Polluted Zone’s history, the rise of the mutants, and the origins and development of the alphas and betas.
Lainey had meticulously documented every single event, every revelation, on those pages. What she revealed was so groundbreaking that it challenged everything humans currently believed.
But there was an even more fascinating discovery: they found an ancient and magical box inside the Eyehole’s temple. A relic from long ago, the box’s origins and its maker remained a mystery. Its power was unpredictable, but it held the potential to reveal the world’s deepest truths. It was dubbed the "Verity Vault," Box of Truth.
When Ren’s eyes landed on the details of this box, they instantly narrowed.
