STRINGS OF THE MASTER : WHEN MYTH BECOMES REALITY

The moment Dray stepped into the chamber, the air changed. Not with noise or force, but with that intangible static—like circuitry holding its breath. His sharp gaze swept across the room, landing first on Elira, then on Fenrir, his expression unreadable.

Above, the voice of the Scientist chimed in with deliberate calm.

"Dray. I was expecting you."

Dray didn't blink. "Clearly. Shall we talk about the unauthorized reactivation of a Class-Wolf servitor and the espionage attempt under my operational floor?"

"It wasn't espionage," the Scientist said. "It was... observation. And it has ended."

He paused, letting the words settle before continuing.

"I've removed Elira from your proximity. No more surveillance. She and Fenrir have been assigned to a mission—away from the tower."

Dray's face remained impassive, but something behind his eyes twitched.

"A mission?" he echoed flatly. "Assigned by whom?"

"By the only one in this structure not compromised by emotional attachments," the voice said, now tinged with steel. "There's a rebel faction reactivating an abandoned node in the northwest perimeter. High probability of viral fragments being used. Elira and Fenrir will investigate. Their proximity to the Purpose core has made them ideal."

Dray stared at Elira again, not as a subordinate, but as something he couldn't quite define. "You're playing a dangerous game," he said quietly, this time to her—not the voice.

But Elira said nothing.

"You'll be briefed tomorrow," the Scientist interjected before Dray could speak again. "Now go. We all have roles to play."

Dray held his ground for a moment longer, his stare now on the ceiling again. Then, with a tight nod, he turned and left through the corridor he came from, his cloak brushing against the polished floor like a whisper of threat.

The chamber lights dimmed.

"That went better than expected," the Scientist said. "He didn't kill anyone."

Elira exhaled, finally moving. Fenrir stood beside her, tense but silent.

The room's walls began to shift, subtle mechanisms unlocking in the far wall. A segment of the smooth alloy opened like a blooming flower, revealing a chamber behind it—a vault untouched by time.

Inside, floating in containment stasis, was a shimmering orb of luminescent blue and gold.

Another Purpose Core.

Elira took a step forward, her voice caught in her throat.

"That's not the one in the lab," she said quietly.

"No," the Scientist said, the tone laced with quiet pride. "That one is a decoy. This is the true Purpose Core. What you touched days ago was never meant for public systems. This is the real source. The first shard."

Elira could feel the energy pulsing from behind the containment glass. It was subtle—but beneath that surface hum was something deeper. A feeling that it could see her too.

"You'll need it soon," the Scientist said. "You and Fenrir."

Elira didn't ask what he meant. Not yet.