Chapter 241: Meeting (7)
Merlin stared at the blade. The pulse inside it was faint, but rhythmic, like a heartbeat.
"You weaponized it," he said quietly.
Regina didn’t flinch. "We harnessed it. For the first time, the cube’s energy can be directed through an external medium without immediate decay. It adapts. Learns."
"Learns?"
She met his gaze. "The energy seems to respond to intent. It modifies its flow pattern depending on who wields it. It’s not technology, Mr. Everhart. It’s something closer to... symbiosis."
He looked at Kael. "You want me to test it."
Kael smiled faintly. "You’re perceptive."
"I’m also not suicidal."
The older man chuckled. "If it were unstable, Hale wouldn’t be standing this close to it. Consider this—" he gestured at the weapon, "—a gesture. You invested early. You believed when no one else did. It’s only fair we show you what that belief purchased."
Merlin’s eyes flicked to the blade again. That pulse... it was calling to him. Not subtly, not metaphorically, literally.
His system’s dormant interface flickered faintly in his vision, just enough for him to know it wasn’t coincidence.
[Unknown resonance detected.]
[Compatibility: 96.8%]
His jaw tightened. "...You said it reacts to intent?"
Regina nodded. "Would you like to see how?"
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer.
The field surrounding the weapon rippled as he approached, its glow brightening with each step. The technicians glanced nervously at their consoles.
"Sir, the energy’s rising—" one muttered.
"Hold," Regina said sharply, eyes fixed on Merlin. "Don’t interrupt."
He stopped an arm’s length away. The blade floated upright, motionless except for the faint shimmer running along its edge.
Merlin reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the hilt, the hum deepened, not louder, but deeper, like the air itself had taken a breath. The pulse inside the weapon aligned with his heartbeat.
And then, silence.
The light condensed, drawing inward, until the entire room dimmed to that single glow between his hands.
[Synchronization established.]
[Warning: Source energy unstable.]
Kael watched, his eyes glinting. "Remarkable..."
The technicians backed away, shielding their eyes. The blade had changed, its surface no longer silver, but faintly gold, patterns shifting to match the faint energy threads in Merlin’s own aura.
He could feel it. The weapon wasn’t inert. It wasn’t cold metal. It was... listening.
When he finally released it, the blade remained suspended, motionless, the glow fading to a faint pulse again.
Regina exhaled. "...So it’s true."
Merlin looked up. "What is?"
"That energy responds to living patterns," she said softly. "It didn’t align with any of us. But with you—"
"It recognized me."
Her eyes met his. "Yes."
Kael stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Everhart, we’ve spent months trying to stabilize that reaction. Yet you did it without calibration, without guidance. Tell me—" his gaze sharpened, "—how?"
Merlin forced a thin smile. "Maybe I just have good chemistry."
Regina gave a faint, incredulous snort. Kael didn’t.
Instead, he turned slightly toward one of the technicians. "Prepare a full synchronization analysis. I want detailed resonance mapping and neural alignment data before sunset."
Then he looked back to Merlin. "Mr. Everhart. You’ve just become a very valuable asset."
Merlin’s tone flattened. "I’m a shareholder, not a lab rat."
Kael’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Sometimes the difference depends on who’s holding the leash."
The tension hung heavy for a heartbeat.
Then Kael’s composure smoothed again, almost warmly. "You’ve done well today. Consider this the beginning of a... mutually beneficial partnership."
Merlin inclined his head slightly. "I’ll consider it."
He turned to leave, but not before glancing once more at the floating blade.
Its faint light flickered in response, almost like it was watching him go.
By the time Merlin exited the tower, the chill of the outside air hit him like relief.
He loosened his tie, exhaling hard.
’That thing... it bonded with me. Just like the cube did.’
His phone buzzed. Another message, no sender ID again.
"Careful, Mr. Everhart. They think they control it. They don’t."
He didn’t even have to guess who sent it.
He looked up toward the mirrored tower, sunlight glinting off its peak.
"...Neither do I," he murmured.
But even as he said it, deep in his chest, the weapon’s faint pulse answered.
—
The hum of the city followed him all the way home.
Merlin moved through the streets in silence, hands buried in his coat pockets, head tilted just slightly down. The sound of traffic, of chatter, of shoes scuffing across cobblestone, all of it felt distant. Muted.
He couldn’t stop feeling it.
That faint rhythm. The same pulse that had rippled through his palm when he touched the weapon.
Even now, it was still there, subtle, but synchronized with his heartbeat.
’It’s reacting to me still... even from miles away.’
He didn’t need to see the faint flicker of [Resonance Detected] that flashed across the edge of his vision to know it was true. He could feel it.
When he reached the apartment, Victoria was sprawled across the couch, half-buried in a pile of grocery bags. The smell of something sweet, maybe cinnamon rolls, hung in the air.
"Where were you?" she asked without looking up from her tablet. "You said you’d just go out for a quick walk."
Merlin kicked off his shoes and shrugged. "Ended up in a meeting."
She blinked. "You? A meeting?"
A beat. Then: "Wait, with Invoke again?"
"...Yeah."
Her tablet hit the coffee table with a soft thud. "Merlin, do you even realize what kind of people you’re dealing with? Those corporate guys eat politics for breakfast. You can’t just walk in there alone."
He smiled faintly, heading toward the fridge. "You sound like a parent."
"I am older."
"You’re still eating pizza at ten in the morning."
"...Touché."
She folded her arms and watched him for a long moment, concern flickering behind her teasing.
"Just—be careful, okay? I know you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t have to go picking fights with business sharks now too."
Merlin met her gaze briefly. "Don’t worry. I’m not fighting them."
A pause. "Not yet, anyway."
He didn’t get much rest that night.
At around two in the morning, another message came.
This time, from Regina Hale directly.
Field Test: Project Seraph – 08:00. Private demonstration. Attendance requested, Mr. Everhart.
Location: Invoke Range – Eastern Facility.
He stared at the text for a long time before locking his phone.
’So soon, huh.’
—
The Eastern Facility was different from the tower, more industrial, less polished. The kind of place that smelled faintly of metal and ozone.
The building stretched outward like a fortress, every wall layered with mana-shielded plating. A sprawling testing range opened beyond the glass, target dummies, energy barriers, even simulated battlefield terrain.
As Merlin stepped inside, a familiar voice greeted him.
"Mr. Everhart. You came."
Regina Hale stood near the observation deck, a tablet in one hand, coffee in the other. She looked like she hadn’t slept either.
"You asked," Merlin said simply.
"Good." She gestured for him to follow. "Chairman Kael wanted this demonstration small. Only a few observers."
"Who else?"
"Draven, Thorn, and Damien Cross."
Merlin’s lips quirked. "The friendly ones, then."
Regina didn’t respond, which said enough.
They entered the range through a reinforced corridor. In the center of the testing chamber stood it, the Seraph Blade, resting on a suspended magnetic cradle. Its faint pulse illuminated the otherwise dim room.
Victor Draven stood beside it, arms folded, his presence heavy as ever. "Morning, kid."
"Morning."
"You ready to see what your little investment can do?"
"That’s what I came for."
Victor’s grin was a flash of teeth. "Good answer."
He turned toward a row of heavily armored mannequins lined up at the far end. "Each one’s built with composite shielding strong enough to tank an artillery-grade mana burst. Let’s see if your fancy golden toy can scratch them."
Merlin’s eyes flicked toward Regina. "You’re serious?"
"Entirely." She motioned to the blade. "Take it."
He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before wrapping his fingers around the hilt again.
The hum started instantly, stronger than before. A flicker of light rippled down the blade, shifting color from silver to that same faint gold hue.
Draven’s grin widened. "There we go."
Merlin stepped forward. The floor panels under his feet reacted to his weight, feeding energy into the room. A subtle holographic overlay flickered across the chamber walls, performance readings, stability charts, resonance data.
He took a stance without even thinking. Old habits. Muscle memory from battles that weren’t meant to exist here.
Regina’s voice echoed from the control booth. "Engage target one."
The first mannequin’s chest plate glowed blue, active shielding.
Merlin raised the blade, and swung.
The sound wasn’t steel. It was a clean, deep note, like air vibrating against itself. A shockwave rippled out from the strike, faint light trailing the blade’s path.
The mannequin split from shoulder to hip.
Its armor peeled open like paper.
Even Merlin froze for a moment.
Regina’s eyes widened. "Holy—"
Draven let out a low whistle. "Well I’ll be damned."
The readings spiked across the monitors. The weapon had output energy levels nearly three times the theoretical limit.
Regina’s voice came out tight. "That shouldn’t be possible. The containment—"
The blade pulsed again, interrupting her.
Merlin turned it slightly, watching the gold lines shift faintly beneath its surface. It was... alive. Reacting to his focus, amplifying his will like it was made for him.
’You’re not just a weapon, are you?’
He tightened his grip. The pulse steadied, as if acknowledging him.
[Stabilization achieved.]
He exhaled slowly. "Next target."
The second mannequin activated. Merlin didn’t wait for the countdown. He blurred forward, movement carried by a mixture of wind and space affinities, no outward display of magic, just speed so clean it left the air rippling behind him.
The strike this time came diagonal, upward, a flash of light and sound.
When he stopped, the mannequin behind him crumpled in half, its top sliding away from its base.
Draven barked a laugh. "Hah! Now that’s what I’m talking about!"