Page 83 of GlitchBorn Heart

A world with no magic.

It seems impossible. And yet somewhere in the back of my mind, deeper than I’d ever care to admit, I almost admire it. The precision of his cruelty. The scale of his ambition. If I didn’t already loathe him, I might envy him.

But Vikktor won’t win this game. Not because his plan is flawed, but because I won’t let him. He thinks he’s shaping a weapon. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve already found one of my own.

Lyra.

A slow heat spreads through my chest, an ache I don’t dare acknowledge. Because if Vikktor is reaching for godhood, then so am I. The difference?

I don’t plan on sharing the throne.

32

GhostInTheSystem

Playlist: Spectre - Bad Omens

Lyra

Kael’s penthouse is absolute perfection; dark and beautiful, unfortunately, just like him. No clutter, no softness, only clean modern design for a man who prefers perfection in every corner of his life. The cityscape is on display in full force through the glass windows that line the outer wall, allowing the neon night to reflect on his walls in pinks, purples, and blues.

He had the feeds sent to his penthouse so he could work from home, and since I’m in the feeds, well, here I am. Lucky for me, there are as many monitors on the wall in his penthouse as there are in the lab. He really needs work/life balance.

Is it really spying if I was sort of invited? Maybe deep down I’m just a digital stalker. I reach for the window program and use my latest party trick, courtesy of Ash and boredom, to hide behind the blackness of the screens. A one-way mirror.

He’s in the corner of his enormous living room, a makeshift gym/dojo with a soft mat on the floor the color of blood against a sea of black. The wall behind him is a tidy museum of violence: staffs, swords, blades, each one hung like a trophy. Several ancient Japanese masks line the other wall, as if looking down upon him with approval while he practices. A kitsune mask sits highest of all, gold on pearl white, its painted eyes a red so bright it looks like two perfect rubies.

Kitsune. Sword. The RedRoom.

Oh no.

My mind goes back to that night. The tiles of memory click into place as I feel my chest drop.

DreamNet. The RedRoom.

Every detail snaps back with clarity. The way the lights made everyone move like animals in the wild. The thrum of sensual bass, the allure of shadows, the masked figure who moved like he owned not only the floor but every person on it.

The man who turned violence into art, who kissed with a passion so fierce it consumed everyone around him. I’d thought it was some stranger, some ghost of the DreamNet underground. This specter who made me so aroused I had to sit up and cross my legs. But no.

Could that have been Kael?

Heat coils low inside me, abrupt and humiliating. Maybe he was the one behind the mask, the one who made me ache in a room designed for indulgence. Maybe. And now all I have is hate mixed with hunger. A furious, confused, embarrassed wanting that tastes sour, but oh so sweet.

And suddenly, the pieces slot together in a way that makes my knees weak. The holo-girl. The digital face he built when he wanted to see me. The way her hair had the same highlights as mine. Her body, all her features, mirrored mine.

Kael Ryudon didn’t just trap me in his system. He designed me as his obsession before this even happened. He had already placed me inside his machines, woven into his code, his fantasies, his RedRoom dreams.

Is that why I’m here? Why I’m trapped? No, it couldn’t be that simple. Could it?

I should be furious. I should be screaming at the violation, the way my image was claimed without my consent.

But the truth settles somewhere darker.

A part of me likes it.

The idea that a man like him, disciplined, polished, revered inside the digital empire he built, would fixate on me. Would choose me. The realization spreads through my veins like wildfire. Terrifying and yet exhilarating. Hating him feels far more dangerous than wanting him.

I remain silent, watching. I’ll need to find out for sure. Confront him about the RedRoom.