"So? Does it feel any different?" Sylvia asked, her eyes darting between Zylas's face and the silver band that had just finished drinking her blood.
Zylas flexed his fingers. He felt a strange, liquid sensation moving through the silver band, as if the ring were finally digesting the meal Sylvia had given it.
"I'm not sure," Zylas responded, his voice low. "I think I'll only know for certain when I try it out."
"You can do that later," Sylvia said, her tone shifting back to the authoritative snap of a Paragon. She regained her composure. "Firstly, I have to ask you something that's been bothering me. How exactly are you registered in the Academy files without being an Apostle?"
Zylas felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "I am an Apostle," he replied, though the lie felt thin.
Sylvia didn't even blink. "No, you're not. You don't exude any aura at all. An Apostle's presence is like a beacon. Even the weakest of the bunch possess an aura clearly visible to other Apostles. You? You're a void, Zylas. Tell me the truth."
Zylas looked at her, hesitating. He couldn't tell her about the Cosmic Entity who was an enemy of The Goddess that Sylvia worshipped and admired. "I don't know why I don't have an aura," he finally said, leaning on the half-truth. "But I can assure you I possess abilities. I wouldn't have survived that dimension otherwise, would I?"
Skepticism etched itself into Sylvia's face, but eventually, she let out a long sigh and slumped back into the cushions. "Fine. I've gotten the answers to everything I wanted to know for now. I'll conclude our meeting. You can go now."
Zylas nodded. "Uhm, Sylvia…"
"Yes? It's time for it to end," she said, her eyes closed as if dismissing him.
"Yeah, I'm trying to go," Zylas replied, a hesitant look appearing on his face. "But you're still holding my hand."
Sylvia's eyes snapped open. She realized her fingers were still firmly entwined with his, a remnant of the blood-letting moment. She turned a deep shade of red instantly, almost like a tomato.
"I—!" She yanked her hand away as if burned. "Sorry about that! You can go now! Immediately!"
Zylas couldn't help it, a genuine chuckle escaped him. After the Drowned attack, getting recruited for The Meridian Academy, getting transported to a ruined dimension and stealing a divine relic, it was almost the only normal thing he'd seen in a while. A girl getting flustered on something as small as unknowingly holding hands for too long. "Alright then. I'll be taking my leave." He replied.
He stood up and headed for the door. As he stepped out, Grant was leaning against the opposite wall. "How was your 'meeting'?" Grant asked in a teasing tone.
"She was just interrogating me, nothing more," Zylas responded, his face visibly showing a unique emotion of 'Not this again.'
Grant's face turned serious. "Interrogation? Did she threaten you by any chance?" He said as he stopped leaning and stood straight.
"No, no. You've got it wrong," Zylas assured him. "It was nothing to worry over."
"But still, are you sure she doesn't mean any harm?" Grant asked with concern.
"Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm not a child, Grant."
Grant stared at him for a beat. "I guess I'll take your word for it. But be careful around her just in case."
"You're overreacting. She was just asking some casual questions."
"Like what?" Grant asked.
Zylas hesitated. "Like... she asked if I liked the Academy food. And my favorite subject. You know, small talk."
This should be enough to prove that Zylas had little to no interaction with women.
'Fuck that was the most cringe, corny, visceral, skin-crawling, wince-inducing and cheesy thing I've ever said in my entire life. That would give any normal person the ick.' He thought to himself and rightly so.
Grant stared at him, deadpan. "She summoned a Freshman Representative for a high-security meeting to ask if you like the cafeteria food?"
"She's... eccentric," Zylas added weakly.
Grant let out a snort, the tension breaking as he started walking toward the exit. "Eccentric is one way to put it. Well, let's go."
As they walked through the parking lot toward the white car, Zylas felt a sudden, sharp vibration on his finger. It was so intense it made his whole arm twitch.
"Biological key accepted. Authority Creation activated," a cold, ancient voice whispered directly into his mind.
"Analyzing host…Paragon not detected, security limitations placed. Major authority creation restricted. ERROR. Dormant requirement detected prior to limitations. Creating authority to fulfil requirement. Authority successfully created: Impact Stasis."
Zylas nearly tripped. He looked at Grant, who was busy unlocking the car, oblivious.
"You okay?" Grant asked.
"Yeah," Zylas gasped, his heart thudding. "Just... tripped on the curb."
He climbed into the passenger seat, his mind screaming. Authority? Impact Stasis? He looked out the window as the gates faded. He finally had a weapon, or at least he thought so, and it wasn't a "reflection" of anyone. Not considering the fact that it required Sylvia's blood, it was his.
"Grant," Zylas said as they hit the main road.
"Yeah?"
"If someone has a power that doesn't belong to them... what happens to them in the end?"
Grant was silent for a long time. "In the real world, you either master the power, or you let it define you. Why do you ask?"
Zylas looked at his hand, the ring standing out like a sore thumb. "No reason. Just something Sylvia said."
"Forget what she said," Grant replied. "Focus on what you can do. We're heading back. I want you to actually rest this time."
"I'll try," Zylas whispered.
As the white car glided up the private drive of Grant's estate, Zylas felt a sudden sense of safety he hadn't expected. The tall trees and the modern, fortified walls of the house felt like a shield against the rest of the world.