Chapter 141: Unstable Class-Four Biohazard

The oak door of Room 104 clicked shut as Walter stepped back into the corridor. Inside, Amber and Zephyra stood on either side of Calista’s bed.

Awakened by the tense murmur of voices, Calista opened her silver eyes. Seeing the grim look on Walter’s face, her breath caught in her throat. "Evren..." she whispered in a voice tight with panic. "Is it Director Vance?"

"Stay calm," Evren said softly, resting a warm hand over hers. "Nobody touches you in this room."

Heavy boot-heels echoed down the hallway outside.

A moment later, the corridor door was shoved open with a sharp clatter.

Five men wearing dark grey armor walked into the room. They had shiny silver sun symbols on their shoulders, showing they belonged to House Vance. Leading them was a tall, scarred man with cold, sunken eyes.

At his hip hung an A-Rank high-frequency shock-baton.

"Chairman Evren, I presume," the lead enforcer said in a flat voice. "I am Chief Enforcer Malakor. We represent the Aethelgard Pharmaceutical Consortium."

Evren didn’t move an inch from the bedside. "You’re trespassing in a private medical suite. State your business and get out."

Malakor sneered, pulling a laminated document stamped with a red wax seal from his tactical vest.

"By order of the Fourth Precinct Magistrate and the Imperial Health Commission, this room is under emergency quarantine," Malakor announced loudly. "The patient, Calista Vesper, is classified as an unstable Class-Four bio-hazard asset suffering from lethal mana-sepsis. We are here to seize her for high-containment isolation."

Calista gasped as her hands shook against the bedsheet. Her mind flashed back to the two terrible years she spent trapped in Vane’s underground laboratory.

"That’s absurd!" Dr. Orson stepped forward from the inner washroom. "Her cervical telemetry is completely clean! There is zero contagion, zero sepsis, and zero bio-hazard. Her vital signs are stable."

Malakor didn’t even look at the doctor.

"Shut your mouth, Orson," Malakor barked. "Sign the release forms, or Director Vance will ensure your medical license is revoked before sunrise."

He gestured to the four armored wardens behind him. "Cuff the bed. Prepare the containment stretcher."

Before the wardens could take a single step, the air in the room dropped twenty degrees.

Amber stepped forward, her dark-brown eyes blazing with golden-crimson Valkyrie aura.

To her left, the shadows behind the wardrobe twisted as Zephyra stepped out, her violet eyes glinting like polished daggers in the dim light.

"Take one more step toward that bed," Zephyra whispered in a voice so cold it made the wardens freeze, "and you leave this room in pieces."

Malakor’s jaw tightened. "Interfering with an imperial health seizure is a felony. Move aside, or my men will use lethal force."

He reached for the high-frequency shock-baton at his hip, his thumb flicking the power switch.

Evren casually stepped past Amber and Zephyra, placing himself directly in front of the enforcer. "Lethal force?" he asked calmly.

Malakor raised the buzzing baton, aiming the crackling tip straight at Evren’s chest. "Step back. You’re out of your depth in this city."

Evren didn’t step back.

Instead, he reached out with his bare right hand.

Malakor swung the electrified baton with all his strength, expecting the high-voltage pulse to drop the young man to his knees.

Crack!

Evren’s bare palm clamped around the crackling titanium head of the baton.

The electrical discharge washed over his skin, sizzling harmlessly against the dense cellular structure of his Titan body.

Malakor’s eyes widened in horror. "What... what are you made of?!"

"Cheap metal," Evren said evenly.

His fingers tightened.

Crunch—screeech!

The reinforced titanium casing crumpled like wet cardboard under Evren’s grip. Circuits exploded in a shower of dead sparks as the weapon was crushed into a useless clump of scrap iron.

Evren tossed the mangled metal onto the floor with a dull clatter.

The four wardens behind Malakor instinctively reached for their sidearms.

Before their fingers could touch their holsters, Evren released a localized pulse of his SS-Rank Gravity Domain.

THUD!

An invisible, crushing pressure slammed downward like a ten-ton steel plate.

All four wardens collapsed instantly, their knees smashing into the marble tiles, cracking the stone beneath their armor. They gasped for air, unable to lift their heads or move their arms under the suffocating weight.

Malakor staggered back, his face turning paper-white. "Y-You... you’re assaulting imperial enforcers..."

"You think a forged warrant from a bribed precinct magistrate gives you authority?" Evren pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

He tapped a direct number and hit the speakerphone icon.

The line rang once.

"Kincaid speaking," a deep, gravelly voice boomed through the speaker, vibrating with undeniable authority.

Malakor’s eyes bulged. He recognized that voice instantly. It was Grand Arbiter Raymond Kincaid, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Defense Division.

"Grand Arbiter," Evren said smoothly into the phone. "I apologize for the disturbance. I have a minor situation here in Room 104 at the Imperial Sanatorium."

"Report, Chairman Evren," Kincaid replied, his tone immediately turning sharp.

"Let me bring you up to speed," Evren said, glancing down at the trembling enforcers. "For a bit of context, two nights ago my team breached an unregistered subterranean facility operating deep beneath District Eleven. Sub-Level Eight, to be exact."

Over the line, Kincaid’s breathing went dead silent.

"Down there, we uncovered illegal chimeric test beds and biological marrow extraction vats," Evren continued evenly. "And locked inside one of those vats was Calista Vesper... the last daughter of House Vesper, whom the Vance Cartel falsely declared dead two years ago."

"Calista Vesper..." Kincaid’s voice dropped into a growl. "House Vance claimed she perished in an alchemical laboratory fire."

"She didn’t perish," Evren said. "Director Gavin Vance kept her paralyzed in an extraction tank for two years to harvest her star-marrow. We pulled her out alive. And right now, Director Vance dispatched five armed enforcers led by a Chief Enforcer Malakor into her private recovery room, waving a fake quarantine warrant to drag her back."

Silence fell over the phone line.

Then, Kincaid’s voice rumbled through the speaker. "Put Malakor on the line."

Evren held the phone out toward the pale enforcer.

"M-Malakor here, Grand Arbiter..." Malakor squeaked, all his arrogance completely evaporating.

"Listen to me very carefully, Malakor," Kincaid’s voice roared through the room. "The Imperial Defense Division does not tolerate illegal bio-extraction black sites, and we certainly do not tolerate the abduction of citizens under forged medical warrants! Calista Vesper is now placed under direct Imperial Defense protective custody."

Malakor began shaking violently, cold sweat drenching his tactical collar. "S-Sir! We were only following Director Vance’s orders..."

"You tell Gavin Vance he is officially summoned before the Imperial Defense Tribunal tomorrow morning at nine sharp!" Kincaid barked. "He will explain under oath what Sub-Level Eight was doing beneath District Eleven! If my investigators confirm Chairman Evren’s report, Vance will face the execution wall!"

"Sub-Level Eight..." Malakor gasped.

"Take your men and get out of that sanatorium right now," Kincaid ordered coldly. "If I hear your name again tonight, you will spend the rest of your life in the iron pits. Am I clear?"

"C-Crystal clear, Grand Arbiter! Departing immediately!" Malakor stammered.

"I will deploy defense inspectors to secure the premises, Chairman Evren," Kincaid added, switching to a more respectful tone.

"Thank you, Grand Arbiter," Evren said calmly, ending the call.

Evren released the gravity pressure on the floor.

The four wardens scrambled to their feet like frightened rats, dragging their bruised knees as they backed away toward the door.

Evren stepped toward Malakor.

"Take your garbage warrant," Evren said softly. "And tell Gavin Vance that if another dog from his house comes near my people, I won’t just break their batons. I will erase House Vance from the Capital."

Malakor didn’t dare say another word. He scooped up his crushed weapon and bolted out the door, his four wardens scrambling behind him in utter panic.

The corridor fell deathly quiet once more.

Walter stepped inside, a wide, satisfied grin spreading across his scarred face. "Those cowards almost tripped over each other running for their cars, Chairman."

"Good riddance," Amber said, crossing her arms as her golden aura faded.

In the bed, Calista let out a long, shaky breath, tears of relief tracing down her pale cheeks.

"They... they couldn’t take me," Calista whispered in wonder. "For two years, whatever Director Vance wanted, he took. But you stopped them..."

Evren walked back to the bedside, using his thumb to gently wipe away her tears. "I told you, Calista. As long as you’re with us, nobody touches you."

Evren turned toward the window, looking out over the Imperial Capital’s sprawling night lights.

His eyes narrowed in thought.

"The sanatorium was fine for an emergency," Evren said slowly. "And our suite at the hotel is comfortable. But between the High Assembly, our deployment to Zone One, and Calista’s ongoing recovery, we are going to be in this city for a long time."

Amber walked up beside him, resting her hand warmly against his forearm. "You’re thinking about a permanent residence?"

"A hotel suite is temporary, and a hospital room is too exposed," Evren nodded, turning to look at Amber and Zephyra. "We need our own fortress in the Capital. A private, secure estate with real defense wards, thermal springs, and enough room for our household and Walter’s men."

Amber’s dark-brown eyes lit up with a brilliant, playful smile. She hooked her arm affectionately through Evren’s, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Then tomorrow morning, Chairman," Amber teased softly, "you and I are going house hunting."