"What…"
The word barely escaped Mathias Blight's lips.
The paper trembled slightly in his hands as his eyes traced the line again, slower this time, as if speed had been the problem.
10 Resonances found.
That wasn't possible. He knew enough about the Harem Society, everyone did understand what those words meant. One resonance was rare. Two was exceptional. Anything beyond that belonged in archived case studies, names whispered in lectures and documentaries.
Ten?
His gaze flicked upward, scanning the rest of the document. His name. His date of birth. Genetic markers. A bold line stamped across the top:
NON-DEVIANT SUBJECT CONFIRMED
"So I'm not crazy," he muttered. "They're saying this seriously."
The door opened behind him.
Mathias turned sharply, the paper still clutched in his hand. The woman from earlier stepped back inside, joined now by two others, both older, both wearing darker coats with gold-threaded insignias instead of silver. Senior staff.
One of them, a man with gray hair and a calm expression or rather was trying to keep his calm, spoke first.
"Mr. Blight," he said, "please return to your seat."
Mathias didn't move.
"I think there's a mistake," he replied. "I'm not even a Deviant. That's already written there. So whatever this is—"
"There is no mistake," the man interrupted gently.
The room felt smaller all of a sudden.
Mathias slowly sat back down, his pulse beginning to climb despite himself. "Then explain," he said. "Because ten soulmates doesn't make sense. Not for someone like me."
The woman swallowed, clearly nervous, while the older man folded his hands.
"You are correct," he said. "Statistically, a non-Deviant registering even a single harmonic match with a Deviant is… extraordinary. Ten is unprecedented in modern records. Actually never seen in our history."
(You've gotta be kidding me.)
Mathias leaned back in the chair. "So I broke a record."
"In a manner of speaking," the man replied. "Your resonance pattern forms what we classify as a Harem Core."
Mathias blinked. "A what?"
"A central node," the man continued. "A rare configuration where multiple soulmates—Deviant and non-Deviant alike are harmonically aligned around a single individual."
Mathias let out a short, humorless laugh. "You're saying I'm the center of a group."
"Yes."
"A… harem," he said.
The man did not flinch. "In the original meaning of the word, yes."
Silence settled between them.
Mathias stared at the paper again. Ten lives. Ten strangers. Ten people the world had apparently decided were meant for him.
"That's not how this is supposed to go," he said quietly. "I came in expecting nothing. I just wanted to go home."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," the man said.
Mathias looked up sharply. "Excuse me?"
"From this moment forward," the man continued, "you are classified as a High-Value Resonant Subject. Your case will be escalated to the Central Harem Society Council. For your safety—and for theirs—you will be placed under observation."
"And if I refuse?" Mathias asked, meeting the man's gaze.
The question clearly caught them off guard.
The man blinked once before answering. "Mr. Blight, you don't need to worry about your freedom. The observation period would not last long. You would be provided with a private residence for the time being, and there you would meet your soulmates, one by one—"
"Can't you just hide the results?" Mathias interrupted.
The man frowned slightly. "Hide them?"
"Yes," Mathias said. "Erase them. Destroy the file. Pretend this never happened."
An awkward chuckle escaped the man. "I'm afraid that's impossible. Your data has already been transmitted to every Harem Society laboratory worldwide. Your resonance profile is now part of the global archive. This case is unprecedented in our entire history. You do understand that, don't you, Mr. Blight?"
(What a pain in the ass.)
Mathias closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to breathe evenly.
"What about my grandfather?" He asked.
The man nodded. "He will be informed."
"Informed?" Mathias repeated sharply. "He's my family. You expect me to move somewhere else and just leave him alone?"
"O—of course not," the man replied quickly, clearly unsettled by the sudden edge in Mathias's voice. "If necessary, he will be provided with an aide. Exceptional cases such as yours are granted special accommodations."
The explanation didn't fully address Mathias's concern but it was clear there would be no real discussion.
What struck the man most, however, wasn't the questions.
It was Mathias himself.
He was far too calm.
Anyone else in his position would have been ecstatic, overwhelmed, even. Yet Mathias showed no excitement, no awe. His gaze drifted back to the report papers on the desk, as if expecting to find a clerical error buried somewhere in the text.
The man scanned the file again, searching for an explanation. Divorced parents. Both remarried. Raised solely by his grandfather.
Nothing really unusual.
"Fine," Mathias said at last.
He didn't have a choice, and he knew it.
Still, the situation felt wrong. Ten resonances. That wasn't normal by any metric.
(Wasn't the previous record six?)
He couldn't remember exactly, but ten sounded absurd. The idea of soulmates had always seemed like convenient nonsense to him in the first place.
"Oh and what about school?" Mathias added suddenly.
It was the final week before graduation exams. Missing it would be a problem.
"You will be excused," the man replied. "Your school will be informed."
Mathias sighed.
Of all weeks to get dragged into this mess, it had to be this one. Skipping one day was fine but he didn't want to miss the whole week.
"And the ten soulmates?" He asked. "Who are they?"
He paused, then added bluntly, "I hope none of them are men."
The woman in the lab coat let out a small, startled giggle.
The man cleared his throat. "Their identities are classified. Information is shared only when both parties consent. At present, we only handle the analysis. Given the nature of your case, however, you will be notified sooner rather than later."
"Whatever," Mathias muttered.
All he wanted now was to go home.
And pretend, if only for a few more hours that his life hadn't just been irreversibly rewritten.