Chapter 246: A Better World.
The morning sun filtered through the windows of the director’s office, casting rectangles of light across the floor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams like tiny sparks. I knocked once on the half-open door, the sound sharp in the quiet space.
"Come in."
Melissa Veyron sat behind the desk like she had been carved into the room itself. A single file lay open before her, several more stacked with military precision to her right. She looked up as I entered, her striking white hair catching the light like fresh frost. She offered a brief, professional smile, then returned her attention to the page.
"Close it, please."
I pushed the door shut with a soft click.
Becky was already seated in one of the chairs, legs crossed, her blonde hair loose from its usual braids and pulled into a soft, full puff. She looked up as I sat down beside her, and we exchanged a quiet greeting under our breath—the small acknowledgment of two people summoned somewhere without being told why.
I settled into the seat.
My partner and me, I thought. Called into the office of a Veyron woman. And the only thing I can think about when I look at her is how to mark her.
"Good morning." Melissa closed the file with a soft snap and set it aside.
"Morning, ma’am," Becky said. I echoed it.
"I feel like there’s distance between us." Melissa rose in one fluid motion, came around the desk, and pulled a third chair from against the wall. Black top hugging her frame. Maroon skirt cut precisely just below the knee. Black heels clicking sharply against the polished floor with every step. She positioned the chair directly in front of ours and sat, eliminating any barrier. The three of us were suddenly eye level, close enough to read every micro-expression.
This is what actual leadership looks like, I thought. She decided the furniture was a barrier and removed it in eight seconds.
"I’m Melissa Veyron," she said, as if her name weren’t already etched on the door outside. She extended her hand to Becky first.
"Becky Donman."
Then she turned to me. Her handshake was soft, almost delicate—the hand of someone who had never known manual labor. Cool skin. Firm pressure that lingered just a fraction longer than necessary.
"Abram—"
"Abram Nadez." She cut across me smoothly, releasing my hand and crossing one leg over the other. "I’ve heard a great deal about you."
I held her gaze steadily and gave her nothing back. My face remained neutral, jaw relaxed, eyes unreadable. I didn’t know what she’d heard, or who from.
"You both understand we’re a new government," she continued. "But I want to be clear about something. We’re not starting from nothing. We’re continuing something that was already in motion long before either of you arrived. That’s why I called you in."
I watched her as she spoke. She had the same stillness Monica had shown in the libra vision, the same economy of movement—every gesture deliberate, every word measured.
"I’ve been through your files," she said, her eyes flicking between us. "Both of you came from outside the walls. Both of you have outperformed every other agent in this building since you arrived. That’s not a small observation. That’s a pattern."
"Thank you," Becky said, a faint flush of pride touching her cheeks, her posture straightening visibly.
"I want you to understand our objective properly," Melissa went on. "Not the sanitized version in the announcements." She looked between us, holding eye contact with each in turn. "We’re going to hand people something that has been impossible for as long as these walls have stood. We’re ending the class divisions entirely."
Here it comes.
"Every person inside these walls will receive an ability. Every one. No more extraction cycle. No more strays. No more burnouts." She let the words settle, the silence stretching just long enough to feel their weight. "And when that’s done, we don’t stay inside. We go out. We make the world beyond these walls survivable again."
She held our eyes.
"Our objective is to save the world."
"Wow." The word slipped out of Becky before she could stop it, her eyes widening with genuine awe.
I sat with it.
She’s telling us this because we’re outsiders. Because we’ve seen what’s out there. Because if anyone in this building is going to be moved by the promise of making the plain survivable, it’s the people who actually survived it.
And every word of it is true. She just hasn’t mentioned what happens after.
Every ability user in these walls—and soon every person—becoming a vessel for something that had been waiting centuries to come back.
I kept my face exactly where it was.
"All of this is possible," Melissa continued, leaning forward slightly. "But we’re facing resistance. Certain families allied with the old CGI hold significant influence, and they are against the idea entirely."
"Why?" Becky asked, leaning forward.
I glanced sideways at her. She had bought every word. Her body language was open, shoulders relaxed, eyes bright.
"Because they’re selfish," Melissa said simply. "They cannot imagine a world where everyone is equal. They’ve spent generations at the top of a structure and they intend to stay there."
"That’s..." Becky searched for the word, brow furrowing.
"Terrible," Melissa finished for her. "It is. But it’s also predictable."
She shifted slightly in her chair, the maroon fabric of her skirt whispering against itself.
"I went through your files. The two of you served as mediators between Mrs. Rivers and CGI."
"Mrs. Rivers?" Becky’s face went blank for a second.
"The naked mansion," I said quietly.
"Oh." Recognition clicked behind Becky’s eyes. "That."
"I’d like to arrange another meeting," Melissa said. "We need her."
"We didn’t convince her," I said. "She was loyal to CGI. The whole thing was a formality."
"You did convince her." Melissa’s tone didn’t rise, but something underneath it hardened. "Whether you’re aware of it or not. I want you to do it again."
I looked at Becky. That mission had been the true beginning of our partnership. She gestured at me with her eyes. Say yes.
She believed all of this.
"Okay," I said.
Melissa exhaled, composed as ever. "Good. We’ll organize the meeting."
Daphne’s missed call was still sitting on my watch. She’d called at night, and Daphne rarely called anyone. That was the only thing I actually wanted to resolve, because everything happening in this room was pointed in a direction I already understood too well.
None of this helps me, I thought. All of it helps the Awakening.
"Should we go?" I asked politely.
"Yes." Melissa nodded. "Abram, stay a minute."
A minute?
[Reason for reduced distance: Melissa Veyron possesses telepathy.]
Wow. And you’re telling me this now.
Becky whispered something as she stood—something I didn’t catch—and walked out. The door clicked shut behind her with quiet finality.
Melissa pulled her chair forward another few inches, sat back down, and crossed her legs, the black heel dangling slightly as she studied me.