Chapter 425: Containment Testing

The environment inside the TMC laboratories was sterile, freezing, and dominated by the hum of mana suppressors. Four holographic screens projected Ben and Leo’s biometric data while both sat on metallic examination tables, bare-chested and covered with sensory patches attached to their skin.

Stephen, clad in his white lab coat and holding a digital datapad, adjusted the scanner calibration while examining the graphs on display.

"Inhale deeply and hold your breath for five seconds," ordered Stephen without taking his eyes off the mana flow readings.

Ben complied, puffing out his chest as the veins in his arms bulged with a faint golden sheen. Leo let out a sigh of impatience and adjusted his shoulders.

"Is this paranoia necessary, old man?" asked Leo, staring at the electrodes stuck to his knuckles. "We told you we feel fine. We aren’t seeing visions, we aren’t hearing voices, and we haven’t felt like smashing windows to scream at Alexander."

"Marcus was saying the same thing before his [Flesh Weaver’s Metamorphosis] collapsed his nervous system," said Stephen in a cold voice, tapping the screen to freeze a frequency spike. "The advanced skill stones provided by the TMC are not energy catalysts. They are pure mana condensates designed for divine-grade organisms. If your core doesn’t expand at the same rate as the stone’s density, the mana stagnates in your circulatory pathways and poisons the brain."

Ben exhaled slowly and looked at Stephen with concern.

"How did our tests turn out?" asked Ben. "Is there any sign of overload?"

Stephen walked over to them, adjusting his glasses as he slid the results across the datapad.

"Ben, your natural affinity with earth density has acted as a passive filter. Your body crystallizes the excess mana and expels it through your skin in the form of mineral toxins while you sleep. You’re ninety-eight percent clear."

Ben let out a breath he had been holding.

"What about me?" chimed in Leo, crossing his arms.

"You are on the edge, Leo," answered Stephen, looking at him. "Your cellular acceleration ability is consuming the stones at a rate to compensate for physical wear and tear. Your absorption rate is at ninety-two percent, but your cortisol levels and cognitive pressure are through the roof. You are one step away from suffering the same psychotic breakdown as Marcus if you don’t lower the dosage."

Leo looked down at his hands, clenching his fists in frustration.

"If I lower the dose, my growth will stall," muttered Leo through gritted teeth. "Alexander keeps scaling to power levels we can’t comprehend, and we’re being left behind like spectators. If we can’t keep up with him, what’s the point of being on his team?"

Stephen sighed, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

"Alexander doesn’t want you by his side so you can die trying to imitate him," said Stephen sternly. "If you end up insane or dead from mana overload, the effort to keep this group together will have been for nothing. Starting today, your dosages are reduced to fifty percent, and you will be under weekly medical supervision."

Before Leo could object, the wall intercom emitted a beep, and the voice of a TMC officer echoed through the containment room.

"Sir Stephen, we have an urgent report from the outer perimeter. The Federation’s reconnaissance fleet has just crossed the Sector Four border. They are requesting an immediate meeting with Alexander."

Stephen tapped the control panel and opened an encrypted line, avoiding notifying Alexander while he rested in the penthouse.

"Call Scott," instructed Stephen to the Eye that sees all, straightening the collar of his lab coat. "And you two, don’t move from here. I have to handle this."

Ben and Leo nodded in silence as Scott’s private comms emitted a low tone, connecting the call on the second chime.

"What happened, Stephen?" asked Scott, his voice coming through the line accompanied by the background hum of an in-flight vessel.

"They’re here," answered Stephen. "The Federation fleet crossed Sector Four."

"Good, let me go meet them," said Scott. "Don’t let them know Alexander is in Big Black’s old building."

"I wouldn’t do something that stupid," replied Stephen with a bitter smile. "I’ll wait for you at the entrance."

Fifty minutes later, Scott’s personal shuttle touched down on the helipad of the TMC’s main complex. Stephen was waiting for him at the foot of the glass and steel staircase. He wore a light tactical polymer armor beneath a dark coat, with mana suppressors built into his wristguards.

Scott stepped off the ramp wearing a formal three-piece gray suit, devoid of visible armor.

"I see you put on your combat suit, Steph," noted Scott, eyeing his lab director’s gear.

"And you aren’t wearing that suit you love so much, nor your watch," retorted Stephen, crossing his arms.

"It’s a relic, you know?" said Scott, adjusting his cuffs while looking up at the overcast sky. "Besides, negotiations go smoother when you don’t look overly threatening."

"Tell that to the cruiser squadron currently sitting in our upper atmosphere," said Stephen.

"Well... this is going to get fun," said Scott with a smirk, walking toward the main gates where the Federation delegation was preparing to land.

Stephen looked up at the sky, where the shadow of the Federation’s landing craft was beginning to break through the clouds.

"At least they had the courtesy to come to our headquarters inside the barrier," noted Stephen, adjusting his combat gloves. "So I don’t think they intend to start an actual war; maybe they’re just here to put pressure on us."

Scott pulled a cigar from his inner pocket, lit it, and exhaled a cloud of smoke before replying.

"Old Brian isn’t coming," said Scott, eyeing the golden crests on the ship’s hull. "So I assume the four Pillars aren’t involved in this visit."

"It must be the work of the elders," sighed Stephen bitterly. "They have nothing better to do than try to claim the freshest Platinums... Them and their greed will ruin the human race."

"You can say that again," agreed Scott, cracking a cold smile as the enemy ship’s ramp began its descent onto the plaza. "Too many Platinums have died listening to those bastards. A complete waste."