Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Mask, My Sin: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Lessons From an Angel POV: Aidan The first thing I notice is that Ezra does not move. He stands between me and Severiel like a wall. Completely still. Completely dangerous. His hand rests on the knife at his belt but he does not draw it. That somehow feels more threatening. The angel, on the other hand, looks perfectly relaxed. He walks slowly across the enormous chamber, black wings folding neatly behind his back. The silver light of the Custodian ship glints across the feathers. Matteo leans closer to me and whispers. “I really hate that guy.” “You are not alone,” I mutter. Severiel stops a few meters away. His golden eyes drift lazily between the three of us. Then he sighs. “You all look like someone just informed you the universe is complicated.” Ezra’s voice is ice. “Leave.” The angel raises an eyebrow. “I am afraid that will not happen.” The Custodian speaks calmly. Severiel is correct. His knowledge of bridge development exceeds that of any other being cu

The Lie That Saves a World POV: Aidan The alien signal feels nothing like Earth. That is the first thing I understand once I close my eyes again. Human networks are chaotic. Noisy. Millions of different voices layered together. Messages crossing, signals colliding, data flowing constantly in every direction. The scout’s signal is different. Perfect. Structured. Cold in a way that feels almost mathematical. I stand in the center of the chamber with my eyes closed while the silver floor hums faintly beneath my feet. Ezra is close. I can feel his presence beside me without looking. Matteo is pacing again. And Severiel is watching everything with that same unsettling calm. “Tell me what you feel,” the angel says quietly. I focus on the signal again. “It is… organized.” “How.” “Everything moves in patterns.” Severiel nods. “Yes.” The Custodian’s voice joins the conversation. The scout operates on layered intelligence architecture. Matteo stops pacing. “Can someone t

The Name That Reached the Stars POV: Aidan For a moment no one speaks. The star map floating above the chamber has changed again. The first scout that I fooled is still drifting away from the inner solar system, moving slowly back toward the darkness beyond Neptune. But now there is another signal. A second probe. Smaller than the coalition ship. Sharper. Colder. Its trajectory is direct and purposeful, cutting across the outer system like a blade. And unlike the first scout, this one is already transmitting. The Custodian’s voice breaks the silence. The second probe has begun long range data transmission. Ezra’s voice is quiet and dangerous. “To the predator.” Yes. Matteo rubs both hands over his face. “So let me summarize.” He points at the projection. “Alien whale allies on one side.” Then he points at the second signal. “Galaxy ending robot monster scouts on the other.” Then he gestures toward me. “And somehow all of this is happening because of Aidan’s br

The Offer That Divides the Future POV: Aidan For several seconds no one moves. The star map hovers above the chamber like a silent accusation. The projection of the predator’s artificial world is larger now. Not physically closer in space, but closer in time. The Custodian’s calculations glow beside it. Four years. The number sits in my chest like a stone. Matteo is the first one to speak. “Four years,” he repeats slowly. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breath that sounds halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Humanity barely agrees on lunch plans four hours in advance.” Ezra does not respond. He is staring at the projection of the predator with an intensity that makes his expression almost unreadable. Severiel, meanwhile, looks fascinated. “Well,” the angel says quietly, “that is considerably faster.” Ezra’s head turns sharply. “Faster than what.” Severiel gestures lazily toward the projection. “The predator normally takes its time.” Matteo raises an

The Decision POV: Aidan The moment the signal opens, I feel it. Like a cold gust of wind blowing through my mind, an alien presence presses against my thoughts. It’s not invasive—not yet—but it’s heavy. Patient. I can almost feel the weight of the coalition vessel’s gaze, hovering like an ever-present shadow, waiting to see what I’ll do. The projection of the ship looms ahead, enormous and alive, its structure pulsing with subtle light. The neural link between my mind and the ship stretches, almost tangible. It’s as though the ship itself is alive, breathing with a sense of ancient awareness, sending out an invitation. “Bridge bearer,” the voice enters my mind again. It’s calm. So calm that it feels like an enticement. “Are you ready to decide?” I swallow hard, forcing my thoughts into focus. I try not to listen to the pulse of the ship, the way it seems to hum with power and silent promises. It’s not a question of whether I’m ready. The decision has already been made for me, h