You ever walk into a room and instantly know you're outnumbered by pure meat-based dominance?
Yeah. That was tonight.
Ayla had tipped me off: "Lyra's heading to Eden Noir. Her private booth's in the back. No security, I swear."
So there I am. Sliding into this underground elite club like an unbothered god-tier ghost. Black velvet everything. Bass thumping like it wants to rearrange your spine.
I walk in feeling untouchable.
Then I see them.
Six dudes.
Huge. Towering. Built like final bosses. The kind of men who chew protein powder and whisper racial slurs in their sleep. All clustered around Lyra Kael in her private booth — laughing, flexing, giving her cigars and trauma.
She's swirling a glass of blue fire, lips glossy, legs crossed like royalty and sin had a daughter.
But the second I activate HypoSync—
== Console ==
Attempting Aura Trigger...
Target: Subject 1 – Male
Error: Male Neural Resistors Detected
Result: Failure – Signal Rejected
== // ==
Wait...
Waitwaitwait.
== Console ==
HypoSync Protocol is currently incompatible with male-targeted influence.
Exception: Emotional Damage Mode (manual, highly unstable)
== // ==
"…Bro," I mutter out loud.
These guys are straight-up immune. Testosterone is their firewall. I could strip naked, chant verses, and throw fairy dust — they'd just ask for creatine.
Lyra's laughing at some dumb joke. One of them flexes his biceps and she actually touches it.
I feel my brain glitch.
Can't trigger Sync. Can't approach. Can't even flirt my way through. If I step close, they'll smell the lack of protein on me and eat me alive.
I bail. I duck behind a curtain like a scorned stage magician and bolt through the side hall.
Heart racing.
Mind spinning.
XP still crawling.
And then—like fate just delivered a cheat code—I spot her.
The Bartender.
Mid-20s. Goth eyeliner. Practically oozing abandonment issues.Working a shaker like she's trying to forget every man who left her on read.
== Console ==
Target: "Eliza M." – Bartender
Trauma Tier: High Mental Weakness
External Validation + Touch Starvation
Hypnosis Sync Potential: 87%
== // ==
Bingo.
If I can't break into Lyra's booth…
I'll lure the bulls away. With bait.
I lean against the bar, oozing sad boy cool with a splash of "daddy issues whisperer."
"Rough night?" I ask.
She blinks up. "You have no idea."
"Oh, but I do," I say, smirking.", I can see the type. You pour drinks hoping someone pours love back. But all you get is tips and pain, huh?"
She goes dead silent. Her eyes gloss over like I just quoted her diary.
== Console ==
Trigger Line Engaged: "Tips and Pain"
Emotional Sync Active
Aura Pulse: "You're not invisible anymore"
== // ==
I reach across the bar, brush her fingers as she hands me a napkin. Her knees literally buckle. She steadies herself like she just got flashbanged by compliments.
"You're… different," she whispers.
"I'm what they all missed."
== Console ==
Link Level: 62% – Rising Rapidly
Initiating Suggestion Seed: "I need a favor… only you can pull this off"
== // ==
I lean in.
"Those guys in the back? The ones making all the noise around Miss Kael?"She nods. Eyes darken.
"They've been saying some nasty stuff. Like really gross. If someone… let's say… beautiful, distracted them for a few minutes…"
"I could totally do that," she says, way too quickly.
Hook. Line. Simp.
== Console ==
Command Inserted: "Lure them. Pretend to be drunk. Say you're from HR."
Confidence Spike Program Applied (Temporary)
XP Gained: +950 (Mid-Level Emotional Control)
Current: 10,950 / 70,000 XP
== // ==
She tightens her apron like she's going to war.
"I'm doing this for you," she whispers.
And I just smile. "You're a hero."
Moments later, I watch her approach the booth. Swaying her hips. Flirty. Loud. Spilling fake shots and compliments like a queen bee on ecstasy.
The big guys start hooting. One immediately offers her a cigar. Another flexes.They swarm her like she's a protein shake in lingerie.
Lyra's alone.
The booth is open.
And me?
I slip in like a virus in silk.
== Console ==
Infiltration Complete
Target: Lyra Kael – Range: 1 meter
Emotional Trigger Scan: Pending...
== // ==
Next move: isolate her. Get her attention.
And find the emotional chink in her CEO armor.
Because once I find her true weak spot…
I'm tearing her whole mind apart, thread by thread.
----
And there I was.One step from the throne. Lyra Kael. Alone. Lit like a goddess sculpted in stock options and misandry.
My hand hovered above HypoSync. I was mid-scan.And then—
"A-Aah! Stop—! Please, let go of me—!!"
Moaning.Whimpers.A desperate thud against the wall.
I froze.
== Console ==
Priority Interruption Detected: Recognized Voice Match – "Eliza M."Stress Signal: 92dB / Panic Tier: Red== // ==
God damnit.
Eliza—the bartender, my emotionally unstable distraction-bomb—wasn't playing anymore.This wasn't flirty chaos.This was real.
I close HypoSync.Take one last look at Lyra.
"Rain check, queen."
And I bolt.
The hallway pulses with strobe lights and muffled bass.Room 4C: marked PRIVATE – NO DUDES ALLOWED in neon pink.
Inside?
Hell.
One of the bulls has Eliza pinned against the bar. Another's laughing. The others are just… watching. Blocking the door.
She's crying.Mascara streaked. Shirt torn.Still whispering my name.
"Get the f*** off her!"
Six heads swivel.
I storm in like a budget Avenger.
"This your girl?" one of them growls.
"No," I snarl, "She's my ex. And she's mentally f***ing fragile. Let her go before you break what's already cracked."
They pause. Confused.
Then—unlucky me—one with a beard like an unpaid mercenary steps forward and decks me right in the jaw.
== Console ==
Damage Registered: Mild Concussion Risk – 18%HypoSync Suggestion Power Dropped (Instability Detected)== // ==
I hit the floor. Vision flickers. Tastes like blood and humiliation.
"You picked the wrong b**** to save, hero."
No.I picked the right one.
Because even as my ribs scream, even as Eliza sobs, I see her face.
She's looking at me like I'm her first and last rescue.
And in that moment—
== Console ==
Emotion Spike: Trauma Bond (Instant Attachment)Link Locked: "Would die for you"XP Boost: +1,100 (Emergency Override)== // ==
I spit blood.
Smile.
"Time to leave, sugar."
I grab her hand, spin a barstool into the nearest dude's knee (he howls like a deranged dog), and sprint.
Out the back door. Through the kitchens. Past a confused chef yelling about ravioli.
We stumble out into the alley, hearts pounding, rain falling like applause from a cruel sky.
Eliza collapses against a dumpster, sobbing.
I lean against the brick wall, clutching my ribs.Pain everywhere.But we made it.
Barely.
== Console ==
Escape: SuccessfulInjury Logged: Bruised Jaw, Cracked Rib (Healing Factor: Slow)Emotional Sync with Eliza M.: Locked 100% – Devotion State AchievedTotal XP: +1,100 (Trauma Save Multiplier)Current: 12,050 / 70,000 XP== // ==
She looks up at me, drenched, shaking, completely broken.
"I thought… you left me…"
"I almost did," I whisper, wiping blood from my lip.
"But heroes always return for the broken ones."
And just like that…Lyra Kael was delayed.
But I got something more important tonight.
Loyalty. XP. And a soldier who'd bleed for me