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Chapter 152: The Root of the Poison (P 2)
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2026-01-09 11:00:49Jinyan stepped forward, his iron staff striking the ground. "She’s not going anywhere with you, Vera. And neither is Grace."
"Jinyan, look at yourself," Vera sighed. "The 'Medea Protocol' didn't kill you, but it left you hollow. You can’t even hear the song anymore. You’re a broken tuning fork. What can you possibly offer her?"
"I can offer her a life where she’s not a god!" Jinyan roared.
He lunged toward Vera, but he didn't reach her. Grace raised her hand, and Jinyan was thrown backward by a wall of compressed air, hitting the mud with a sickening thud.
"Papa!" Panni screamed, rushing to his side.
Grace’s hand trembled. For a second, the sapphire in her eyes flickered back to brown. A tear tra
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The door groaned open again. This time, the youth in the diving suit—the one who looked like a young Architect—returned. He was no longer wearing the helmet. His face was unnervingly smooth, his eyes a pale, watery blue. He held a small, glass cylinder containing a vibrating needle."The girl is resisting," the youth said, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "She is calling for 'Papa.' It is creating a 'Dissonant Loop' that is overheating our brass coils."He looked at Panni, a thin smile on his lips. "We are going to increase the tension on your resonators. We need you to project a 'Safety Frequency.' We need you to tell her that Jinyan is dead. Only when she accepts the loss will she stop fighting the 'Harvest' and become the 'Source'.""I will never tell her that," Pann
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[The Chamber of Echoes]The world did not return with light; it returned with a vibration that felt like a needle scratching against the inside of Panni’s skull.When her eyes finally flickered open, she was not on the muddy banks of the Mekong. There was no scent of river silt or the smoke of burning junks. Instead, the air was sterile, cold, and smelled of linseed oil and heavy brass. She was lying on a stone plinth in a room that defied the logic of the jungle she had left behind. The walls were lined with thousands of hollow copper tubes of varying lengths, arranged in a terrifyingly precise mathematical spiral that converged toward the center of the ceiling.Panni tried to move her hands, but they were bound to the plinth by thick leather straps. Her wrists were cold, and as she looked down, she saw why: heavy br
TIME TO FALL IN LOVE Chapter 152: The Root of the Poison (P 2)
Jinyan stepped forward, his iron staff striking the ground. "She’s not going anywhere with you, Vera. And neither is Grace.""Jinyan, look at yourself," Vera sighed. "The 'Medea Protocol' didn't kill you, but it left you hollow. You can’t even hear the song anymore. You’re a broken tuning fork. What can you possibly offer her?""I can offer her a life where she’s not a god!" Jinyan roared.He lunged toward Vera, but he didn't reach her. Grace raised her hand, and Jinyan was thrown backward by a wall of compressed air, hitting the mud with a sickening thud."Papa!" Panni screamed, rushing to his side.Grace’s hand trembled. For a second, the sapphire in her eyes flickered back to brown. A tear tra
TIME TO FALL IN LOVE Chapter 151: The Root of the Poison (Part 1)
[The Root of the Poison]The morning light on the Mekong was a cruel deception. It danced upon the water in ripples of gold and amber, belying the absolute coldness that had settled into Panni’s marrow. She stood on the muddy bank of the river, her body a map of bruises and limestone dust, watching her daughter.Grace moved with a terrifying, fluid grace that no seven-year-old should possess. She didn't look back at the parents who had just weathered a collapsing mountain to save her. Her sapphire eyes were fixed on the black junk drifting toward the shore, and on the woman standing at its prow.Vera Panni looked exactly as she had in the faded daguerreotypes in the Carpathian manor: a silhouette of iron and silk. Her hair was a crown of moonlight silver, pulled back so tightly it seemed to stretch the translucent skin of her face.
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