I still don’t like this. Lawrence’s frustration crackled through the link. We should be doing something, not just standing here.

  We are doing something. Harvey’s response was calm, deliberate. We’re letting him see.

  See what? Lawrence’s impatience flared. That we’re too scared to act?

  No. Kadir’s voice was steady, unwavering. That we are not his jailers. That we are not here to take him—only to make sure he understands the weight of his choices.

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then, low and tense—And what if he makes the wrong one?

  Kadir didn’t answer.

  The link remained open, but no more words passed between them.

  The weight of Kyon’s choice hung in the air, pressing down on them all.

  Kyon’s First Person point of view.

  The weight in the room had shifted.

  I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I could feel it. Something happening just beneath the surface. A pressure in the air, a tension I wasn’t privy to.

  And yet, my focus stayed on Conrad.

  "You’re awfully quiet," he observed.

  I forced my expression neutral. "Just wondering why you’re wasting your time. If you think I’m such a problem, why not just get rid of me now?"

  Conrad chuckled, amused. "Because I’m a reasonable man, Kyon. And because you are more valuable alive than dead."

  I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds like recruitment talk."

  "Is that what you think?" His gaze was unreadable. "Recruitment implies you have a choice."

  My breath stilled.

  He let the words settle before continuing, his voice almost casual. "You are an anomaly, Kyon. Not something that can be ignored, nor something that can be allowed to run unchecked."

  His fingers tapped against the armrest, a slow, rhythmic sound. "So tell me… do you believe in free will?"

  I frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

  "A relevant one." His eyes studied me, sharp and probing. "People love to believe they have control over their own lives. That their choices are their own." He leaned forward slightly. "But what if I told you that the very act of choosing is often just an illusion?"

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "That’s a nice way of saying you’re giving me an ultimatum."

  Conrad smiled. "An ultimatum suggests only two options. You, my boy, have far more than two."

  Something about the way he said it made my stomach turn.

  "You could leave," he continued lightly, "pretend none of this matters. But the world does not operate on ignorance. You have made waves, Kyon. And waves…" His eyes gleamed. "They tend to come back to drown those who make them."

  I felt a flicker of something cold in my chest.

  I didn’t respond.

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  Because he wasn’t wrong.

  Conrad had patience. That much was obvious. He knew time was on his side. That the longer I stood here, feeling the weight of his words, the more likely I was to break.

  But I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

  I kept my expression blank, my hands loose at my sides, but my mind was moving fast.

  Think, Kyon. Think.

  I wasn’t just standing in this room with a monster. I was standing in this room with a manipulator. A predator. And I had no idea how deep his game ran.

  So, I tested him.

  “Faraday,” I said again, careful, deliberate. “I can’t sense him anymore.”

  There it was.

  A flicker. So quick it was almost imperceptible. A minuscule shift in his gaze, the tiniest tightening of his jaw.

  Conrad hadn’t expected me to say that.

  Good.

  Now I knew something he didn’t.

  He recovered quickly, his usual smug confidence smoothing back into place. “Why does it concern you?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Because it’s not possible. Not unless someone ended him.”

  My EchoFlux buzzed beneath my skin, an uneasy thrum, as if it could feel something shifting in the air. The Pulse that had been lingering in the background—subtle, almost imperceptible—suddenly sharpened, like an unseen hand reaching out.

  Sia.

  I kept my breathing steady. Didn’t react. Didn’t give Conrad the satisfaction of knowing that someone else had entered my mind.

  Kyon.

  She was being careful, quiet. Like she knew how delicate this moment was.

  I didn’t answer her yet. I was still watching Conrad.

  “You assume he’s dead,” Conrad said, tilting his head. “Why?”

  “Because I know what I did to him,” I said flatly. “And he wasn’t in a state to fight back.”

  I saw the shift in Conrad’s eyes. He knew what I meant. He knew I had compelled Faraday. Bent his mind. Made him mine.

  For a thousand-year-old vampire, that should have been impossible.

  And yet, I had done it.

  So, either Faraday had broken free and vanished, or someone had cleaned up my mess.

  And the more I thought about it, the more my mind circled back to one person.

  Harvey.

  He hadn’t entered the penthouse at the same time as the rest of us. He had lagged behind. Just long enough for someone to tie up loose ends.

  And now Faraday was gone.

  My pulse ticked higher.

  Harvey.

  Was he working for Conrad? Had he been ordered to do it? Or was this something else entirely?

  Kyon, can you hear me?

  I blinked, bringing my focus back to The Pulse.

  Sia.

  Her presence was steady, something grounding in the chaos of my mind.

  You’re walking into a trap.

  I know.

  Then why are you still standing there?

  Because I don’t have a way out yet.

  I felt her hesitation.

  Don’t let him back you into a corner, she said, softer this time. That’s how he wins. He makes you think there’s no choice but the one he offers you.

  I exhaled slowly.

  She was right.

  I knew she was right.

  And yet—

  Conrad leaned forward slightly. “You’re hesitating.”

  He said it like it was amusing. Like he enjoyed watching me struggle with this choice.

  I clenched my jaw.

  He had me on the defensive. He was guiding me where he wanted me to go. And if I let him, I would end up in the same position as Faraday—bound to him, under his thumb.

  No.

  I needed to maneuver. To find the cracks in his armor.

  Faraday’s memories were still fresh in my mind, buried beneath the noise of my own thoughts.

  Centuries of servitude. A thousand years spent at Conrad’s side.

  What did you know, Faraday?

  I dug deeper. Searching.

  Conrad wasn’t invincible. He wasn’t all-powerful. If Faraday had survived under him for this long, then there had to be something—some weakness I could use.

  Something he had been holding back.

  Sia’s voice filtered back through.

  Kyon, you don’t have to do this alone.

  I almost laughed.

  Who else is there?

  Me.

  I stiffened.

  I hadn’t expected that answer.

  She felt it too—the shift in my emotions.

  You’re not alone, she repeated. I know it feels that way, but you’re not. And you don’t have to throw everything away just because you’re scared.

  Scared.

  That word again.

  She had said it before, and I had ignored it.

  But it was true.

  I was terrified.

  Of Conrad. Of what I had done to Faraday. Of how deep I had already fallen into this world.

  Of how easy it would be to give in.

  And yet—

  I wasn’t dead yet.

  Conrad hadn’t broken me.

  Not yet.

  I felt the shift in my own stance. The slight straightening of my spine.

  The decision wasn’t made yet.

  But something inside me had changed.

  I wasn’t going to let Conrad decide for me.

  I wasn’t going to let fear be the thing that ruled me.

  “Interesting,” Conrad mused.

  I blinked, refocusing.

  He was watching me again, head tilted, something almost like amusement in his expression.

  He knew something had changed.

  And I had the distinct feeling he didn’t like it.

  “What’s your answer, Kyon?” he asked, finally.

  I hesitated.

  Not because I didn’t know what to say.

  But because I wasn’t sure what answer would keep me alive.

  I needed time.

  I needed more pieces to this puzzle.

  And I needed to make sure that whatever I chose—

  It wasn’t the one Conrad wanted.