Cybernetic Beast Taming In A Game-like World

"He's quite verbal for a child," Prime Minister Jorhan Thrace said, his voice as formal and mighty as his appearance promised.

"It's his least problematic trait at the moment," Velara replied thoughtfully. She snapped her focus back, sitting straighter, a subtle gesture in respect to the Prime Minister's presence. "But do you believe what he claims? That he had no idea how he survived and escaped the Rift?"

Prime Minister Thrace's gaze drifted momentarily, the crimson lens of his monocle dimming as he processed. "Trauma can fracture memory so it is possible that he is being truthful. But it's our duty to be thorough in situations like this. We can not risk the Conqueror's forces seeping into our world unchecked."

Is that confirmation?" Velara asked. "Are you adding Jethro Merrick to our silent watchlist?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we, Velara?" Thrace said, easing his face. "To survive the Conqueror with nothing but a Red Lizard— while others wielding Lightning Dragons and Windkiller Krakens, the highest of Black Ranks, have fallen —that raises more than just doubts about our Riftwalker training methods. It raises the possibility that there's something hidden inside that boy. A power."

Velara's eyes widened. "But what kind of hidden power could challenge Decterion's?"

"That is what we must find out."

Velara lowered her gaze to the table, her expression tightening with a conflict she rarely displayed. "That boy? Do you think we could have done better for his family?"

Thrace's eyes narrowed. "You're thinking of this now?"

Velara looked at him. "Mardetta was one of us. She helped Beastcorp in many ways, and we just abandoned her family after she died. It doesn't feel… right."

Thrace's jaw tightened, obviously irritated by the conversation. "Mardetta was an employee, Velara. She worked for Beastcorp and she enjoyed the privileges of that. Then she died. We do not owe her anything beyond that."

"Now we're spying on her son," Velara whispered, giving Thrace a guiltshot that had him hesitating, eyes dulling. "What do we do if we find out he's being compromised? And this 'power' you think he might have becomes a threat?"

Thrace didn't say anything. Instead, his cold and assessing gaze shifted past Velara to the silent figure standing sentinel in the shadows.

Orlance's heavy boots echoed as he approached. Velara waited, not looking back, but sighing inwardly as she understood what Thrace would do.

A quiet clank sound came beside her, and when she looked down, she saw that Orlance had placed his iron mask on the table. She slowly raised her eyes to his face— his real face.

One side of it was purely human, dark skin, a sharp brow and reticent human eye.

But the other side was a torn face, a biomechanical nightmare. Where flesh should have been was a masterwork of terrifying aether-tech integration.

The eye belonged to a Primary Dragon, yellow and terrifying. The nose, cheekbone and jawline were that of an Arctic Nightbear, seamlessly fused. The teeth, razor sharp and long, belonged to Venom Sabertooth, and the ear was that of a Forest Flamefox.

All mechanical, whirring with aether.

"If the boy proves a problem," Orlance spoke, his voice no longer modulated but deep, husky and dangerous, "he'll be extinguished… without hesitation."

A cold, satisfied smile touched Thrace's lips within the hologram. "That's what I like to hear."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jethro was led through the corridors of the facility once again by two troopers, armed with aether guns in their black and brown suits. They stopped at the reception hall and asked him to sit and wait.

Jethro turned to them with a question on his face, "How long? I just want my Lizard and to get out of here."

One of the troopers replied. "Don't get antsy with me, kid. You might have survived the Conqueror and all, but things follow protocol around here. So sit and wait, and we'll notify the mechvet."

A quick grimace braced Jethro's lips as he watched them turn and leave. He made a face, before turning around and catching some nurses staring at him. They immediately returned to their jobs. Jethro scoffed and lowered himself to the long steel bench by the wall.

As soon as he sat, a deep sigh of relief left him. "It was intense back there," muttered to the empty air, folding his arms, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cool wall. Then, he snapped open his eyes, focusing intently on the empty space directly before him.

"But at least now I can figure out what exactly this thing is."

Hovering in his precise line of sight was a floating crimson screen— a rectangular hologram that only he could see. Jethro was certain of that because when the screen first appeared in the interrogation room, neither Velara or Orlance seemed to have noticed it.

When he had asked what the three-headed Dragon's name was, that was when the screen suddenly appeared, displaying a rotating, labelled 3D image of the beast, including its summarized information, and then an option for in-depth information.

Jethro had been completely shocked then but had managed not to overreact, especially because Velara couldn't notice it. Now, he had somewhat accustomed himself to the floating screen as it had been following him around ever since then.

What was it?

Where did it come from?

And why did it feel like it was changing depending on what he thought?

Jethro quickly decided to experiment. His mind focused on the subject in Beast Taming that had always fascinated him:

Evolution.

Suddenly, the screen blinked, and replacing the information on the three-headed dragon was a titled interface of Mechbeast Evolution.

Jethro's lips widened to a smile and then an amused chuckle. This was awesome.

What felt even more surprising about this event was that the screen wasn't merely showing him information. It was as if this information was already embedded in his mind, and the screen was only extracting it and representing it to him, making it accessible to procure in one go.

It was a visual conduit.

[Mechbeast Evolution]

[:Evolution is a magi-cybernetic process where a mechbeast transforms its size, power and core into another much stronger one that is ranks ahead of its original]

[:The most popular reason for evolution is high resonance to aether, but—]

"You look better than you did when you came out of the Rift."

Jethro's head snapped to the right, the crimson screen vanishing from his perception as if switched off. "Huh?"

Then he froze.

Sitting at the far end of the same waiting bench, also wearing hospital clothes… was Padva.