Chapter 624: The Sudden Hazard (1)
Mikhailis straightened but didn’t move away. For a beat, he simply let the stillness settle. He could have stood there all night.
Instead he lowered himself onto the mattress’s edge, mindful of every creak. His fingers hovered just above hers, close enough to feel heat but not to disturb. The jasmine from his cup lingered on his tongue; the sweetness mixed with a sudden metallic tang of unease.
The itch arrived—subtle as a spider crossing skin. First a prickle at the base of his neck, then a murmur down his spine. Instinct, old as childhood disasters in half-finished labs, whispered that silence could lie.
He swept the chamber with a gaze sharpened by years of insect study. Walls, windows, rune lattice in the floor—nothing flashed abnormal. The ward crystals glowed steady, their pale light doing the slow pulse of undisturbed circuits. Even the faint signature of chimera-ant sentries sleeping in vents read calm on his inner map. No irregular pings, no unauthorized mana spikes.
Yet the emptiness felt wrong. Like a note missing from a chord.
This feeling. It’s... empty. Not the room, not her—something else, he thought, pulse beginning a quiet gallop.
He thumbed the edge of a wristband concealed beneath his cuff. "Rodion," he breathed, barely shaping the word.
There was a half-second pause—as if the AI weighed the value of answering aloud in the silence. Then the clipped reply sounded in his ear, volume obediently low.
<Still online. All sensors report nominal conditions.>
"Prepare for potential intrusion," he whispered. His eyes never stopped scanning corners, cross-beams, the faint shimmer of the doorway ward. If anything shifted, he wanted to see it first.
<...I didn’t detect anything. But noted. When you get like this, it’s usually wise to obey.>
He almost smiled at the grudging respect. Almost. Because now the itch had turned to a slow burn at his palm. He lifted his left hand, heartbeat ticking louder in his ears.