Lysira lay where she had fallen, her breathing shallow but present, her body still responding at the most basic level even as consciousness remained out of reach. Vaelira's body had not been moved.
Daruis stepped into the room through the concealed passage at the rear, his expression neutral, his pace unhurried as if he had all the time in the world to assess what had been left behind. His gaze moved first to the constructs, then to the damage scattered across the room, the broken wood, the scorched surfaces, the marks left behind by plasma and shadow alike.
Then to them.
He approached without hesitation, stopping near Vaelira first, his eyes studying her briefly, not with emotion, but with quiet analysis. There was no satisfaction in his expression, no visible reaction at all, just acknowledgment. "So that's where the difference was," he murmured under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, his tone carrying faint curiosity rather than triumph.
He shifted his attention to Lysira. Still alive that mattered.
Without a word, he opened the system interface, the familiar transparent display appearing before him, its clean structure contrasting sharply with the destruction around him. The categories shifted at his command until he reached the section he had been considering for some time, something he had avoided purchasing until now.
Neural integration.
His eyes moved across the options, scanning quickly, filtering out anything redundant before settling on the one he needed.
Neural Extraction Chip.
The description was brief, clinical, outlining its capability to interface directly with the neural pathways of a subject, extracting memory patterns, learned behaviors, and experiential data with minimal degradation. It was expensive.
-14 500 CC
The purchase completed instantly, the deduction from his Conquest Credits registering without concern, the item materializing in his hand a second later, small, precise, engineered with the same cold efficiency as everything else he had built.
Daruis crouched beside Lysira, turning her just enough to access the point he needed, his movements careful but not gentle, his focus entirely on the process rather than the person. "You should have left," he said quietly, though there was no real weight behind the words, more observation than judgment.
The chip activated with a faint hum as he pressed it into place, the interface connecting seamlessly, its surface dimming as it synced.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the data began to flow.
It didn't come as images at first, but as fragments, impressions layered over one another, the system translating neural pathways into something structured, something usable. Daruis's expression didn't change, but his attention sharpened, his focus narrowing as the extraction stabilized.
Memories formed on his interface. A child, younger than expected, bruised, silent, standing in a narrow alley with no clear direction forward.
Than another fragment, the image showed training grounds. Cold instructions delivered without comfort drilling repetition into thier youthful minds.
Failure corrected not with guidance, but consequence. Than the arts of Dark magic.
Not the uncontrolled kind, but something refined, taught with precision, with discipline, shaped into techniques that relied on control as much as power.
He watched it all without reacting.
Assassination techniques followed, layered over years of experience, patterns of movement, methods of approach, efficient ways to end a target before they understood what was happening. Not flashy or excessive. Just effective.
"Nice...very nice" he muttered, noting the structure behind it all, the way her training had been built piece by piece into something reliable.
The system continued showcasing fragments and extracting valuable data
Combat experience, real encounters, adjustments made in real time. Mistakes learned from, not repeated.
Daruis exhaled quietly as the extraction reached its peak, the interface stabilizing as the system compiled what it had gathered into structured segments ready for integration. "That's more like it," he said, his tone faintly approving, though still detached.
He disengaged the chip once the process completed, the device dimming as it shut down, its purpose fulfilled.
For a brief moment, he considered Lysira again.
Then dismissed the thought entirely.
He stood, already opening the command interface for his constructs, the data from the extraction transferring seamlessly into the system, the behavioral modules of his plasma droids updating in real time. Movement patterns shifted. Reaction times refined. Combat decision-making adjusted based on experience that was no longer their own but Lysira's.
And now, they would improve.
Daruis allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile as he observed the change. "Let's see how that translates," he said, more interested in the outcome than the method that made it possible.
---
The governor did not expect her to wait.
He should have.
Lady Seraphine Valcaryn stood near the center of the chamber, her posture unchanged from the moment she had entered, her presence filling the room without effort, her patience not yet gone, but wearing thinner with every passing minute. Kaedros remained near the entrance, his arms relaxed at his sides, though the weight of his presence alone was enough to make the guards outside shift uneasily.
The silence stretched longer than it should have.
A servant stood off to the side, uncertain, clearly aware that something had gone wrong but unwilling to speak first.
Seraphine didn't look at him.
"How long has it been?" she asked, her voice calm, though the edge beneath it was no longer subtle.
The governor hesitated for half a second. "Not long," he said. "He may still be—"
"He's not coming," she cut in, her tone even.
The governor straightened slightly. "We sent the request directly. He would be unwise to ignore it."
Seraphine turned her head just enough to look at him.
"Would he?" she asked.
The question wasn't rhetorical.
The governor didn't answer immediately, because the truth was already clear.
Seraphine exhaled slowly, her composure still intact, but the restraint behind it shifting into something sharper. "You insisted he could be managed," she said. "That this situation was contained."
"It is being handled," the governor replied, though the confidence in his voice no longer matched his words.
"Is it?" she asked again, this time without waiting. "Because from where I'm standing, he ignores your summons, operates freely within your territory, and forces me to stand here waiting like a minor noble requesting an audience."
Kaedros let out a quiet breath from where he stood. "That part's a bit embarrassing," he added, not looking at either of them.
The governor's jaw tightened. "This is not a matter of disrespect. It's a matter of timing. He may not have received the request yet."
Seraphine's gaze didn't waver. "And you believe that?"