Chapter 22
Shivers
Aaronn was on duty that night, assigned to guard Senator Neima’s son. Yet finding a way to reach Jaje’s meeting had become his true priority—the senator had just left.
“Say, did you know Senator Neima has a laboratory in this city?” Aaronn asked one of his colleagues stationed outside the door leading into the senator’s apartment.
“Of course. We escort him there regularly. You’re new, so you haven’t had the chance yet—but you will soon enough.”
“What does he do there?”
“Before becoming senator, Jaje Neima graduated from the most prestigious medical and scientific academy on the planet—right here in Ornéa, the city of innovation. He’s a prodigious scientist.”
Aaronn hadn’t known that. Neima must have worked relentlessly to find a way to merge amarite with dominas.
“I see. Thanks. Where’s the lab located?”
“Not far. Five kilometers from here, in the Research District.”
Aaronn nodded his thanks and resumed his professional stance. After another minute, he made his request.
“Can I take my break now? Fifteen minutes max.”
His colleague raised an eyebrow briefly.
“Sure. You haven’t taken a single break all day.”
“Thanks. I’m grabbing coffee—want one?”
“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Aaronn smiled and headed for the elevator. Once on the ground floor, he nodded to the receptionist and stepped outside.
The city’s white lights barely illuminated the streets—and even less the narrow alleys between buildings. Aaronn slipped into one of them and materialized a brown hooded cloak, pulling it over his head.
He looked up at the rooftop opposite him.
Without hesitation, he ran through the air, using his powers to reach it. From there, a vast stretch of the city and its flowing traffic lay clearly visible.
He didn’t know exactly where the Research District was—but Neima’s presence pulsed roughly a hundred meters away. He could reach the meeting point in just over five minutes. Still, running openly through the city was impractical.
“Let’s hope this works,” he muttered.
Metallic clicks echoed as steel fragments assembled into a hovering skateboard beneath his feet. He leapt onto it just as a bluish flame burst from its rear, launching him into a steep dive. His trajectory curved along the building’s glass fa?ade, descending vertically like a sliding shadow. Wind lashed his face as city lights fractured into shimmering streaks behind him.
He regained balance two meters above ground and plunged into the darkness of narrow alleys. Hidden from view, he sped past obstacles, the board vibrating faintly—powered by Aaronn’s own aura.
Neima’s presence had stopped nearby.
Just as Aaronn neared his destination, the board suddenly dematerialized.
His momentum faltered—but he caught himself one-handed on a metal bar, swung forward, and landed smoothly before continuing on foot. It seemed he could no longer sustain complex materializations for long durations. His power’s limitations were tightening.
He reached the rooftop of a small hardware shop overlooking Neima’s laboratory. The senator entered the building.
Aaronn tried tracking his presence to anticipate his movements—but another presence drew his focus.
If he had to picture it, it would be white and radiant, blinding everything around it.
A Light warrior.
That confirmed his suspicions about the mysterious voice on the phone.
Aaronn moved swiftly. The laboratory appeared lightly guarded compared to Neima’s apartment. The senator had likely come alone, reassured by the warrior’s presence.
Keeping to shadows, Aaronn approached. He walked through the air up to the second floor, stopping at the office adjacent to the luminous aura. A metal hand materialized inside the room, guided by his will, and unlatched the window. He slipped inside.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The neighboring office door slammed shut.
“Are we alone?” came a deep voice.
Aaronn recognized Jaje Neima. He pressed his ear against the wall and activated a recorder he had requested from Linart earlier that day.
“Yes,” answered another voice—less deep, but more assured. “Let’s begin. Give me the list, and I’ll ensure a smear campaign is launched against Senator Solana.”
“Can you guarantee my victory once it’s done?”
Silence followed. Heavy footsteps echoed—like armored boots striking the floor.
“Come now, Jaje. You understand how politics works. At this stage, only the people’s votes matter. The campaign merely influences their decision.”
“But you’re a Light warrior—a representative of King Julius Castus! You could remove her from the race with a snap of your fingers!”
Neima’s voice abruptly lowered—as if warned not to raise it further.
“Senator Neima, you are an intelligent man. We’ve explained our motivations. We suspect Senator Solana provides political and military support to the resistance. She’s our only lead to locating their headquarters. If we remove her, the resistance loses its incentive to push for her victory—and we drastically reduce our chances of finding them. We have a highly competent man on this case.”
Silence settled again.
“Unless,” the Light warrior continued, “you are the one enabling the resistance to acquire and purify amarite?”
Solana’s resources allowed purification of amarite? That theory made sense—and explained why Linart and Lunamilla sought to reconnect with her.
“I would never dare,” Neima replied. “I will never support the resistance. To oppose Eile?n is to oppose divine law.”
“Good. Then we agree. Now—where is the list of the Half-Chosen?”
The list of the Half-Chosen.
Aaronn’s blood ran cold.
Neima was trading Half-Chosen identities for political backing from Eile?n.
Linart and Lunamilla needed to know.
“One final condition,” Neima said. “I want the domina shipments increased once I become Chief Senator.”
Though he denounced the resistance as blasphemous, he had no hesitation imposing terms on Eile?n.
“Agreed,” the Light warrior answered—far more easily than Aaronn expected.
Aaronn couldn’t see the list himself. Perhaps there were other clues in the building—but he had to return before his absence was noticed.
Suddenly—
A sound from the window of his office.
Aaronn turned sharply—and froze.
A man clung to the window, attempting to open it exactly as Aaronn had minutes earlier—by materializing a metal hand inside.
The stranger lifted his head.
Aaronn’s breath caught.
It was like looking into a mirror.
Same face. Same build.
But dark aura and shadowy particles seeped from his body, partially cloaking him.
A ghost mercenary?
No… impossible.
Fear tightened in Aaronn’s chest as he glimpsed emerald-green irises.
The stranger slipped inside.
“Who are you?” he demanded, eyes widening.
Even his voice sounded the same.
Aaronn remained silent, brows furrowed. Any noise could alert the others. What should he do?
Suddenly the stranger convulsed violently, as though struggling against an unseen force. Goosebumps rose along Aaronn’s arms.
What were these things?
The spasms ceased as abruptly as they began. The stranger turned and leapt back out the window.
Aaronn rushed after him.
He had to know.
He gave chase through the city streets. The silhouette matched the ghost mercenaries—but its movements were erratic, almost disjointed.
Aaronn tried to catch him in the alleys—but the mercenary was too fast.
How could he be outrun so easily?
They emerged into an open plaza. The mercenary stopped beside a fountain and turned.
His emerald eyes had become pitch black.
His face was as empty as the void in his gaze.
“Who are you?!” Aaronn shouted.
“Aaronn… don’t you recognize me? I am… you,” the figure replied in a deep, cavernous voice.
Aaronn’s stomach tightened.
Then the mercenary dropped to one knee.
“W-where… am I?”
Green returned to his eyes. Life flickered back into his expression. The dark aura faded—revealing a necklace bearing a golden falcon wing.
Aaronn’s heart slammed.
“Hey! Where did you get that?!” Anger surged into his voice.
“What are you talking about? And who are you? Why do you look like me?”
There was no mistake.
It was his sister Aaliyah’s necklace.
How did he have it?
Who was he?
“You know exactly what I mean!” Aaronn shot back. “Why do you look like me? How did you get that necklace?!”
Darkness flooded the mercenary’s aura once more.
“If you want… to know… make me talk,” he replied.
Aaronn lunged.
He feinted a punch, forcing his opponent’s guard up, then slipped behind him and locked an arm around his neck.
“Enough games. Answer me.”
But the mercenary’s strength exceeded his expectations.
Aaronn was thrown violently. Midair, he clung to his opponent’s upper body, tearing fabric in the process. Landing swiftly, he darted behind him again—
—and froze.
The mercenary bore the same circular tattoo on his back.
But only one black ring marked it.
Two of his own power-limit seals had been lifted.
New clothes materialized over the mercenary’s form.
He removed the necklace and spun it around his finger, a dark smile curling his lips.
“If this necklace matters so much to you… I suggest… you retrieve it.”
His body began evaporating—like a summoning reaching its limit.
His finger vanished.
The necklace dropped into the fountain.
Aaronn rushed forward, plunging his hand into the water and retrieving it. The darkness clinging to it faded gradually.
“I also… suggest… you don’t forget Conrad.”
“What?” Aaronn spun around.
No one.
The mercenary had vanished completely.
But the necklace remained.
He would have sworn it disappeared with him moments earlier.
No time.
Conrad was in danger.
Aaronn sprinted back across the city at full speed toward the Neima apartment.
Who were these ghost mercenaries?
Who controlled them?
He had never encountered anything so paranormal.
Someone was deliberately sabotaging him.
He reached the apartment, nearly breathless despite his vitality, and rushed up the stairs.
“You’re finally back,” his colleague said. “Five minutes late! Just kidding,” he added with a laugh.
“Where’s Conrad?” Aaronn demanded, breath uneven.
“What? He hasn’t left. What’s wrong? Why are you out of breath?”
Aaronn stopped, hands on his hips. Calm down.
No disturbance in the hallways. Conrad’s presence still lingered inside.
“It’s nothing. I stepped out for air and didn’t want to be late, so I ran.”
“Oh. You didn’t have to. No one would’ve blamed you for five minutes.”
Aaronn nodded and resumed his post.
“Oh—and you forgot my coffee,” his colleague added.
