Chapter 242: Dinner and Manipulation
Regina was too busy scrolling through the data. Her hands trembled slightly. "Output consistency perfect... synchronization stable... this is—" she looked up at Merlin, disbelief cutting through her professionalism. "How are you doing that?"
Merlin met her gaze evenly. "...Guess the blade likes me."
Draven snorted. "Yeah, or it’s scared of you."
For the first time all morning, Merlin almost smiled.
Then, the lights flickered.
Just once. Barely noticeable. But he felt it.
That pulse, the one inside his chest, suddenly staggered.
He froze.
[Warning: Source interference detected.]
[Unidentified signal... attempting synchronization override.]
Regina frowned at her monitor. "That’s not right. We’re getting resonance feedback from—"
"Cut the power," Merlin said sharply.
"What?"
"I said cut the power!"
But it was already too late.
The Seraph Blade flared in his grip, light surging from its core, climbing up his arm like molten gold. The hum deepened, turning into a low, thrumming growl that shook the air.
Technicians scrambled. Alarms wailed. Draven cursed and stepped back.
"Containment field’s spiking!" someone shouted.
Merlin’s vision blurred for a moment. He could see it, faint, spectral lines spreading from the weapon, forming sigils midair. The same kind he’d seen deep in the labyrinth.
Rathan’s memories stirred like ghosts behind his eyes.
’No... not now.’
He clenched his jaw, forcing his focus into the weapon. His will pressed down like a command.
"Stop."
For a heartbeat, just one, the light hesitated. Then it receded.
The alarms died one by one, leaving only heavy breathing and static silence.
Regina’s hand hovered over her console, eyes wide. "What—what did you just do?"
Merlin exhaled, setting the blade gently back onto its cradle. "Stopped it from blowing your lab to pieces."
She stared at him. "That shouldn’t have been possible."
Draven’s grin had long since faded. "Kid..." His tone was quieter now, laced with a kind of wary respect. "What the hell are you?"
Merlin glanced between them, golden eyes calm but unreadable. "...Someone who doesn’t want to see this world burn. Yet."
Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out.
Outside, the morning sun was still bright, untouched by what had just happened below.
Merlin tilted his head back and took a slow breath.
’Whatever that was... someone tried to override it. To reach through it.’
He glanced down at his hand. Faint traces of gold still shimmered along his palm before fading.
[Interference logged.]
[Source: Unknown.]
[Recommendation: Caution.]
He closed his fist slowly.
"...Yeah," he murmured. "No kidding."
—
By the time Merlin reached the tower again, the morning rush had faded. The building’s mirrored glass threw back the sunlight, cutting through the skyline like a blade.
Inside, the lobby was too quiet. Even the receptionist’s polite greeting carried tension. Word had already spread, something had gone wrong at the range.
Merlin didn’t stop. He rode the elevator straight up.
When the doors opened, Adrian Kael was already waiting. The chairman’s gray-streaked hair looked sharper under the office lights, his eyes unreadable.
Behind him stood Regina Hale, tablet tucked close to her chest. Her posture was stiff; her usual confidence cracked just enough to show the edges.
"Mr. Everhart," Kael said evenly, stepping aside to gesture him in. "I was informed the field test ended... unexpectedly."
Merlin entered the office, the door sliding shut behind him. "You could say that."
Regina exhaled softly. "The Seraph reacted to an outside signal. Something interfered. The readings spiked far beyond capacity, then stabilized when—"
"When I told it to stop," Merlin finished for her.
Kael’s brows lifted slightly. "You commanded it?"
"I didn’t command it," Merlin replied, voice calm. "I focused, and it stopped. Maybe coincidence."
Kael didn’t buy that. Neither did Regina.
The chairman moved behind his desk, folding his hands together. "You understand what this means, don’t you?"
"That your prototype almost melted a wing of your facility?"
"That something reached into a sealed chamber," Kael corrected, tone sharp. "That weapon was not linked to any external network. Not ours, not the government’s. For it to respond to an outside signal means someone found a way to slip past protections that shouldn’t be breachable."
Regina’s voice softened. "It’s not possible. The Seraph’s core is isolated, mana-based, not digital. Unless..."
She trailed off, eyes flicking toward Merlin.
He felt the weight of her unspoken thought: Unless the interference came through him.
Merlin didn’t flinch. "You’re wondering if it reacted because of me."
Kael didn’t deny it. "I’m wondering what you are, Mr. Everhart."
The words hung between them like a blade.
For a heartbeat, Merlin said nothing. Then, quietly: "Just someone who owns eight percent of your company."
Kael’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. "A convenient answer."
Regina set her tablet down. "Chairman, with respect, if he hadn’t stopped it, the Seraph would have gone critical. We’d have lost the entire range. Whatever happened, he contained it."
"That doesn’t mean he’s not part of the cause."
Their eyes met, tension sparking across the polished desk.
Merlin’s voice stayed level. "You want to run tests? Fine. Scan me. Track my mana signature, my neural patterns, my blood type if you want. You’ll find nothing that explains what happened."
Kael leaned back, studying him. "You seem certain."
"I’ve been certain for a long time."
That seemed to give Kael pause. He tapped a finger against the desk, gaze drifting toward the window.
After a long silence, he said, "Regina, prepare the diagnostics. I want every piece of data from the Seraph test cross-referenced with prior resonance records. And I want Draven and Cross briefed."
Regina nodded, already scrolling through her device.
Kael looked back at Merlin. "Until we know what caused that surge, the Seraph remains sealed. And you, Mr. Everhart..." He stood, straightening his jacket. "...will remain in contact. If anything unusual happens, anything, you inform me directly."
Merlin’s golden eyes met his, unwavering. "You’ll be the first to know."
Kael nodded once, then dismissed them both.
Outside the office, Regina slowed her pace, falling into step beside Merlin.
"You didn’t mention the pulse," she said quietly.
He gave her a sidelong glance. "You noticed it too."
"Yes. Right before the surge. The entire weapon resonated with your biometrics. I’ve never seen readings that... aligned."
Merlin kept walking. "Maybe it’s not aligning with me. Maybe it’s something through me."
Regina frowned. "Through?"
He didn’t answer, and she didn’t press further.
When they reached the elevator, she spoke again, softer. "Thank you, for what you did. I know you didn’t have to."
Merlin’s gaze flicked to her, then to the steel doors sliding open. "I didn’t do it for you."
"I know," she said, stepping inside. "But you still did."
The elevator hummed shut, carrying her away.
He stayed by the window for a while after she left, watching the city below. The air outside shimmered faintly in the heat, normal, busy, oblivious.
’Someone interfered with a sealed system,’ he thought. ’Someone who knows what the Seraph really is.’
The System’s faint glow blinked once in the corner of his vision.
[Unknown frequency logged.]
[Partial trace... matching pattern: 12%. Source undetermined.]
"Twelve percent?" he muttered. "Not much to work with."
Still, the faint trace burned into his awareness. Whoever, or whatever, had reached through that signal was now marked, if only faintly.
He took out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. Most were empty placeholders, corporate numbers he barely used. His thumb hesitated over one, Regina’s. Then he closed the screen.
Not yet.
He needed time. And answers.
That night, the city lights painted the apartment ceiling gold and blue. Victoria was asleep on the couch again, some old movie running on the TV.
Merlin sat by the window, still in his suit, a cup of untouched coffee cooling beside him.
He stared at his hand, the same one that had held the Seraph. Faint golden threads flickered across his skin, then vanished.
’It reacted to me because of the System,’ he thought. ’But the override... that wasn’t random.’
There were other pieces on the board now. Someone, or something, was moving under the surface, testing boundaries.
And if this world’s story was still following the novel’s path... then none of this should be happening yet.
He looked out at the skyline. The Invoke Tower stood tall in the distance, lights pulsing at its crown like a heartbeat.
A quiet pulse answered within him.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time since waking in this world, Merlin felt something he hadn’t in a long time.
A thread of unease.
Not because he was outmatched.
But because, for the first time... someone else might be playing the same game he was.
—
The invitation came quietly, no seals, no formalities.
A simple text message.
Chairman Kael: Dinner. 19:00. 79th floor. Alone.
That was all. No explanation. No assistant call to confirm.
Merlin stared at the message for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen. A private dinner with Adrian Kael wasn’t an offer, it was a test. A summons wrapped in courtesy.
And tests, Merlin knew, never came without intent.
By the time he reached the seventy-ninth floor, the sun was bleeding into the horizon. The sky was a wash of molten orange fading into violet, and the tower’s glass walls caught it all, turning the dining hall into a chamber of fire and dusk.
Kael was already there.
He sat by the panoramic window, no guards, no staff, only a single bottle of wine between two empty glasses. His jacket hung on the back of the chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the faint shimmer of a mana barrier humming low around the floor, subtle, but present.
Power layered over civility.
"Mr. Everhart," Kael said, not looking up as Merlin entered. "You’re punctual. I appreciate that."