Extra To Protagonist

The conference room was still.

Still in that suffocating way that only followed hours of polite warfare, words turned to blades, logic turned to armor. The city lights stretched far below the Invoke Tower's glass wall, but inside, the air was cold, tight, deliberate.

Adrian Kael leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, one finger drumming softly against the inlayed steel surface. Around him, the board waited. Helena, Victor, Elias, Regina, Damien, and the others, each a picture of composure, masks worn to perfection.

Merlin sat among them, his golden eyes fixed and unreadable. He hadn't spoken in ten minutes. Not since Kael's last statement.

And that statement still lingered.

"—The Lazarus Core will change the landscape of warfare. Permanently."

No one had disagreed outright. Not yet. But the silence was its own battlefield.

Regina Hale was the first to break it. Her pen stopped tapping, her glasses sliding lower on her nose as she exhaled slowly. "We have yet to determine its stability," she said, her tone clipped but firm. "The readings from the test site are erratic. The Core doesn't follow our conventional containment laws. The last phase nearly compromised the entire district."

Helena's eyes flicked toward her, lazy but sharp. "And yet, here we sit, safe. The district's still standing. Perhaps your engineers are more competent than you give them credit for."

Regina's jaw tightened. "Or perhaps they were simply lucky."

Kael smiled faintly, not with humor, but with that small, chilling satisfaction of a predator watching his pack circle the prey. "Luck," he murmured, "favors the ones who act."

Elias Thorn, the finance director, spoke next. His voice was soft, oily, deliberate. "Luck is not what investors pay for, Chairman. Nor is faith." His pale fingers laced together. "Numbers, however… they paint a clearer picture. The Lazarus Core project already consumes thirty-two percent of total R&D expenditure. If it fails, we don't lose just funds, we lose credibility. Shares. Influence."

Kael's gaze didn't shift. "And if it succeeds?"

Elias's thin smile flickered. "Then we become gods."

Victor Draven gave a short grunt from his seat, the sound low but cutting. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

Helena chuckled softly at that, swirling the wine in her glass though she hadn't taken a sip all night. "Oh, Victor, please. Men like you have always wanted to be gods. It's what makes you useful, and dangerous."

Victor turned his head slowly toward her. "You say that like it's an insult."

"It isn't," Helena said simply. "It's an observation."

The tension rippled again, invisible, subtle, but felt.

Kael's finger stopped tapping. "Enough."

The single word silenced the room.

He rose slightly from his chair, not standing, but straightening with a deliberate gravity. "We've debated this long enough. Invoke was not built on hesitation. We built this company by stepping where others refused to. The Lazarus Core will be no different."

Regina looked up from her notes, eyes meeting his. "And if the readings continue to destabilize?"

Kael's gaze sharpened. "Then we adapt. Or we contain. That's what we have you for."

For a moment, it seemed Regina might argue further. But then her pen resumed its tapping, slower this time.

Silence crept back in.

Finally, Kael turned toward Merlin. "Mr. Everhart. You've been quiet."

Every gaze shifted toward him at once.

Merlin lifted his head slowly. His posture didn't change, relaxed, composed, but there was a current beneath it, invisible yet present. His voice, when it came, was steady.

"I've been listening."

Elias arched a brow. "And learning, I hope?"

Merlin's eyes flicked toward him. "Always."

Helena smirked faintly, leaning back. "Then tell us, young investor, do you approve of this… leap of faith your company is about to take?"

Merlin met her gaze evenly. For a moment, he said nothing. The air seemed to tighten around the table.

"…I think you're all right," he said finally.

Kael's eyebrow rose. "Elaborate."

Merlin's eyes drifted toward the holographic projection in the center of the table, the slow, pulsing outline of the Lazarus Core rotating in ghostly blue light.

"I think the Core is unstable," he said. "And I think it's dangerous. But every weapon ever made was dangerous before it was understood."

Victor gave a short nod of approval, but Merlin wasn't finished.

"However," he continued, his tone turning quieter, "I also think there's something off about it. Not in the design, in the intent. The data doesn't make sense because something in it isn't meant to."

Regina's head turned sharply toward him. "You've seen the technical reports?"

Merlin didn't flinch. "Enough."

Helena's smile vanished. "And how would a… student investor," she said the words with delicate disdain, "have access to internal R&D data?"

Merlin didn't answer. He didn't need to. His silence said enough.

Kael's eyes narrowed faintly, not angry, not yet, but curious. "What are you implying, Everhart?"

Merlin met his gaze head-on. "That someone inside is manipulating the results. And if you push this through now, without confirming who, or what, is altering the data, Invoke might not survive to see the Core completed."

The words hung in the air like smoke.

Elias's voice came soft but edged. "Those are strong accusations, boy."

"They're not accusations," Merlin said. "They're observations."

The board erupted in murmurs, not loud, but sharp. Papers shifted, glass clinked, voices overlapped. Kael raised a hand, and silence slammed down again.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then, the Chairman exhaled slowly, folding his hands over the table. "You think there's sabotage."

"I think there's something worse," Merlin said quietly. "Something no one here understands yet."

Damien Cross, silent until now, finally spoke. His tone was calm, almost pleasant. "And how would you propose we… address this mysterious interference, Mr. Everhart?"

Merlin looked at him, studying that too-ordinary face, that faint, unreadable smile.

"…By finding who benefits most if it fails," he said.

The smile twitched, just slightly.

Helena laughed softly. "Bold. You speak like you're not sitting among them." Orıginal content can be found at 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱

Merlin's lips curved faintly. "Maybe I am."

That made her pause.

Kael leaned back again, tapping his finger once more on the table's inlay. "Enough riddles. It's time."

A soft chime sounded from the center of the table, the voting interface activating. Blue symbols shimmered before each member's seat.

Kael's voice carried through the still air. "Those in favor of continuing the Lazarus Directive's final phase… raise your seal."

One by one, lights flared.

Helena.

Victor.

Elias.

Damien.

Then Regina's hand hovered. She hesitated. Looked toward Merlin.

His expression didn't move.

Finally, her seal flickered, dimmer than the rest. "Aye," she said softly.

Kael's eyes turned last to Merlin. "And you, Mr. Everhart?"

Merlin's finger hovered over the console. The holographic button pulsed, blue, waiting.

He looked at it for a long time. Then at Kael. Then, finally, at the rotating projection of the Lazarus Core.

When he spoke, his voice was low.

"…I vote no."