Episode-817
Chapter : 1633
"It's smart," Mina said. "It means the machine doesn't just run on you; it runs with you. It becomes an extension of your own rhythm. It might solve the overheating issue with the Lilith Stones."
Lloyd smiled. It was a genuine smile. "You're amazing. You know that?"
"I'm an archaeologist," she shrugged. "I just know how to read dead people's mail."
Lloyd laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt strange, like using a muscle that had atrophied, but it felt good.
"Mina," he said, his face turning serious. "Thank you. Not just for... this. But for pulling me out. I was in a dark place."
"I know," she said. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Don't go back there. If you feel yourself slipping... come find me. Or I'll come find you."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise."
They lay back down. Lloyd pulled the blanket up over them. The air in the underground lab was chilly, but he felt warm.
He thought about the future. It was messy. He had a wife he had divorced in his heart but was legally bound to. He had a fiancée who was a foreign princess and a strategic genius. And now he had a lover who was the sister of his wife and the only one who knew his true self.
It was a disaster waiting to happen. It was a ticking time bomb.
But as he held Mina close, listening to her steady breathing, Lloyd realized something. He didn't care. He would deal with the fallout later. Right now, he was alive. He was sane. And he had a reason to keep fighting that wasn't just hatred.
"Goodnight, Lloyd," Mina whispered.
"Goodnight, Mina," he replied.
He closed his eyes. The nightmares were still there, waiting at the edges of his mind. But tonight, they didn't come. Tonight, he slept a dreamless, peaceful sleep, guarded by the woman in his arms and the metal giant standing watch in the dark.
The morning sun didn't reach the underground laboratory directly, but the complex system of mirrors and shafts Lloyd had installed channeled the daylight down, filling the room with a soft, diffused glow. It washed over the concrete floor, the scattered tools, and the silent, imposing form of the Aegis suit.
It also illuminated the two figures sleeping in the shadow of the machine.
Lloyd woke up slowly. For the first time in weeks, he didn't wake up with a gasp, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. He woke up feeling... rested.
He became aware of the weight on his chest. He looked down. Mina was sound asleep, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, a warm puff of air against his skin.
The cold, mechanical hum of the laboratory—the ventilation fans, the mana-conduits—was pushed into the background. The primary sound in his world was her.
Lloyd lay there for a long time, just watching the dust motes dance in the light shafts. He felt a profound sense of calm. The frantic, jagged edges of his grief had been softened. They weren't gone—the hole Jasmin left would never truly be filled—but the wound had been cleaned and bandaged. It wasn't bleeding out anymore.
He shifted slightly, trying to ease a cramp in his leg without waking her. Mina stirred. She made a soft, protesting noise and tightened her grip on his shirt.
"Five more minutes," she mumbled into his chest.
Lloyd smiled. "The sun is up. The manufactory shift starts in twenty minutes. If you want to avoid being seen by the morning crew, we need to move."
Mina groaned and opened one eye. She looked at him, then at the room. Reality came rushing back.
"Right," she said, sitting up and rubbing her face. "Secret affair. Political disaster. Morning crew."
She looked at him, and her expression softened. There was no regret in her eyes. No awkwardness. Just a quiet, heavy understanding.
"How are you?" she asked.
Lloyd sat up, stretching his stiff back. He checked his internal state. The rage was there, but it was cold now, controlled. The despair was there, but it was manageable.
"Better," he said honestly. "I feel... focused. But not crazy focused. Just... ready."
"Good," Mina said. She stood up and began to straighten her rumpled clothes. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the bedhead. "Because you have a lot of work to do. And I have to go translate a chapter on ancient cooling runes before I forget the syntax."
Chapter : 1634
Lloyd stood and walked over to her. He reached out and fixed her collar, his hands lingering on her shoulders.
"We can't do this often," he said quietly. "It's too dangerous. For you."
"I know," Mina said. She placed her hands on his chest. "But we did it. And it helped. That's what matters."
They stood there for a moment, a tableau of intimacy in the cold lab. They were partners now. Not just intellectual equals, but conspirators in survival.
"Go," Lloyd said gently. "Before Alaric comes in and drops a beaker."
Mina smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him quickly. "Don't forget to eat. Real food. Not potions."
She grabbed her books and slipped out of the lab door, checking the hallway before disappearing.
Lloyd watched the door close. He let out a long breath. He felt lighter.
He turned to the Aegis suit. He walked up to it and placed his hand on the chest plate.
"Okay," he said to the machine. "Break time is over. Let's finish this."
________________________________________
Lloyd spent the next hour running a full diagnostic on the neural link. The results were promising. His mind felt sharper, less cluttered by the noise of trauma. He was about to start the final calibration sequence when the door to the lab opened.
It wasn't Mina. It was Ken Park.
Ken looked impeccable as always, his uniform crisp, his face a mask of stoic professionalism. But Lloyd knew him too well. He saw the tension in Ken’s jaw. He saw the shadow in his eyes.
"Lloyd," Ken said. He didn't come in. He stood by the door.
"Ken," Lloyd said, wiping grease from his hands. "If you're here to tell me to eat, Mina already lectured me. I promise I'll have lunch."
Ken didn't smile. He stepped into the room, holding a small, sealed scroll in his hand. It wasn't the royal seal. It was a crude wax seal, the kind used by the common courier service in the lower districts.
"It's not about lunch," Ken said. His voice was heavy.
Lloyd froze. The calm of the morning evaporated. "What is it?"
"A courier just arrived at the gate," Ken said. "From the Weaver district. It's a letter from Mrs. Weaver's neighbor."
Jasmin's mother.
Lloyd felt a cold spike of dread in his stomach. He hadn't gone to see her yet. He had been too cowardly. He had sent gold, sent food, but he hadn't gone himself. He couldn't face her.
"Read it," Lloyd commanded, his voice tight.
Ken broke the seal. He scanned the short, messy scrawl. He looked up, his face grim.
"It's bad, Lloyd. Since the news... since the funeral... she has taken a turn. A catastrophic turn."
"Is she sick?"
"She has stopped eating," Ken said bluntly. "She refuses food. She refuses medicine. The neighbor says she just sits in her chair, holding Jasmin's old doll. She says... she says she's waiting."
Lloyd closed his eyes. "Waiting for what?"
"Waiting to die," Ken said. "The neighbor says her will to live is gone. It faded the moment we put Jasmin in the ground. It's like... like she felt the cord snap."
Lloyd gripped the workbench until his knuckles turned white. This was the aftershock. The ripple effect of his failure. Jasmin was dead, and now her mother was dying of a broken heart. It was another body on his pile. Another tombstone in his head.
"She wants to see you," Ken added softly. "She keeps asking for 'The Young Lord'. She wants to know if her daughter died brave."
Lloyd swayed. The weight was crushing. He wanted to say no. He wanted to hide in the suit. He wanted to run back to the oblivion of work.
But he felt the ghost of Mina’s touch on his shoulder. You have to live. You have to face the rubble.
He opened his eyes. They were cold, hard flint.
"Prepare the carriage," Lloyd said.
"Lloyd," Ken started, "you don't have to—"
"Prepare the carriage, Ken!" Lloyd snapped. "I am going. I owe her that. I owe her the truth."
Ken nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes. "I'll bring the horses around."
Ken left. Lloyd was alone with the machine.
He looked at his reflection in the black visor of the Aegis. He looked tired. He looked old. But he didn't look crazy anymore.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the empty air. "I'm so sorry."