Chapter 170: In the Table (2)
The holographic projection of Krill Khians, the Royal Apostle, shimmered at the head of the obsidian table. Her glowing eyes scanned the assembly, lingering for a fraction of a second on the newly filled Seat of Circuit. The air in the vast, ancient chamber thickened with anticipation.
"For this timely meeting," Krill Khians began, her voice resonating with an almost hypnotic calm, "all of the Seats will receive the blood of our God, Krill Mainu. A sacred gift."
As she spoke, a series of hidden slots around the perimeter of the obsidian table hissed open. From each slot, a single, slender vial rose, each containing a shimmering, viscous silver liquid. A low murmur of excited, reverent whispers spread among the older Seats, their eyes fixed on the vials with palpable eagerness. Anton Rothschild, the Seat of Coin, visibly trembled with anticipation, a hungry look in his eyes.
Khians continued, her gaze sweeping over the new members. "For the newer Seats," she announced, her voice gaining a subtle emphasis, "this vial contains a promise. A vital draught of immortality and enhancement, prolonging your lifespan beyond mortal comprehension. A million years of life, if you so choose."
The doppelganger, meticulously programmed for the perfect human response, widened its eyes, a controlled gasp escaping its lips. It conveyed a flawless impression of stunned amazement and profound surprise, mirroring the genuine, elated reactions from Martin Rockwell, the Seat of Flame, and Ariana Moore, the Seat of Sight. Rockwell’s lips curled into a delighted, almost feral grin, and Ariana Moore’s eyes, usually calculating, now shone with an avaricious glee.
"Please," Khians intoned, a subtle command in her voice, "drink, and offer your services and devotion to our God, Krill Mainu. Embrace your destiny."
Without hesitation, the older Seats seized their vials. Anton Rothschild, practically shaking, uncorked his and downed the silver liquid in a single gulp. A faint golden aura pulsed around him for a moment, and as it faded, the subtle lines around his eyes and mouth seemed to recede, his skin gaining a renewed vitality. He sighed, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The other veteran members followed suit, each showing similar signs of subtle rejuvenation, their expressions of serene satisfaction deepening.
The new Seats, Rockwell and Moore, mirroring the older ones, eagerly took their vials. Martin Rockwell quickly swallowed the contents, a primal satisfaction flickering across his face. "A million years of power!" he whispered, a fervent gleam in his eyes. Ariana Moore, more refined, sipped hers slowly, her lips curving into a predatory smile. "The possibilities are endless," she murmured, a chilling lack of emotion for what she’d just embraced.
The doppelganger, however, executed its prime directive. It raised the vial, brought it to its lips, and made a convincing motion of drinking, but its internal systems subtly shunted the silver liquid into a specialized containment unit within its synthetic stomach, preserving it perfectly for Lina’s examination and study. Its external facade remained one of profound awe and contentment, seamlessly blending with the genuine reactions of its new ’peers.’