Chapter 83: Can’t Control

"I never said it was," she replied, her voice ringing clear and steady through the grand hall.

She locked her eyes onto the Pontiff, refusing to give an inch of ground.

"But that doesn’t make me your property," she added, her lip curling into a faint, disdainful curve.

The Pontiff frowned deeply, his hands folding tightly within his long, embroidered sleeves.

"You misunderstand our holy intentions, young lady," he tried to assure her.

"No," Rhaevia interrupted, her voice hardening like tempered steel. "I understand your motives perfectly."

Her Guide aura began spreading outward, flowing over the floor like a shimmering tide of bright azure light. The gentle hum of her mental energy resonated with the very structural foundations of the palace.

"You see something ancient and terrifying inside me," she said, taking a slow, deliberate step toward him.

The priests flinched as the blue energy swept over their boots.

"You don’t understand what it is," she continued, taking another step forward.

The Church Guardians raised their hands defensively, their own mental shields buckling under her presence.

"So you want to put me somewhere quiet where you can control me," she stated coldly. "You want to pick apart my mind, dissect my Guide core, and decide what label suits your needs."

The Church Guardians became visibly tense, their hands twitching over their weapons as sweating foreheads betrayed their anxiety.

Rhaevia’s eyes flashed with brilliant crimson sparks amidst the azure depth, reflecting the lethal soul of a woman who had already survived one apocalypse.

"I’ve spent one entire lifetime being treated like a weapon," she said, her voice dropping into a register that made the air itself vibrate.

She took her final step, stopping barely two feet from the Pontiff’s pale face.

"I won’t spend another lifetime being treated like an object," she finished cleanly.

Her mother moved instantly, taking her place right beside Rhaevia’s left shoulder.

Her father stepped up to her right, his broad frame radiating steady, grounding strength.

Her three older brothers closed ranks behind them, their hands resting comfortably near their sidearms as their mental pressure flared in unison.

Raevor joined the line without a moment of hesitation, his dark uniform brushing against Rhaevia’s sleeve as he took his place beside her.

The entire Rythundeir family stood as an unbreakable wall against the Church.

The Pontiff’s serene expression finally darkened into genuine anger as he looked at the united front.

"You are making a catastrophic, dangerous mistake," he warned, his voice shaking slightly.

Rhaevia smiled, a cold, sharp expression completely devoid of warmth or hesitation.

"I’ve made far worse decisions on bloodier battlefields," she replied smoothly.

The Emperor’s deep voice suddenly cut through the heavy confrontation like a falling hammer.

"Enough."

The single word carried the full weight of imperial authority, forcing every individual in the chamber to freeze. Everyone turned their heads toward the high throne.

The Emperor looked down at the assembled crowd, his sharp eyes shifting between the white-robed priests and the young Guide.

"No one will take custody of Rhaevia Rythundeir without her explicit personal consent," the sovereign declared firmly.

The Pontiff’s eyes hardened into ice as he faced the throne.

"Your Majesty, you cannot simply choose to ignore the sacred prophecy," he pressed, his composure cracking further.

The entire room went dead silent.

Rhaevia’s Guide core suddenly pulsed violently, sending a sharp spike of sensation straight up her spine.

"Prophecy?" she repeated, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion.

The Pontiff turned back to face her, a dark smile playing at the corners of his thin lips.

"Yes," he whispered softly.

He reached into the deep folds of his ceremonial robes and slowly withdrew an ancient crystalline tablet. The relic was carved from a dark, iridescent material that seemed to absorb the ambient light of the room.

Its smooth surface was covered in intricate, glowing symbols that appeared almost identical to the ancient marks that had surrounded Rhaevia during her awakening on the barren planet.

The instant her eyes landed on the alien characters, her core reacted with violent intensity.

A sudden mix of crimson and azure light erupted across the surface of the tablet, overriding the Church’s ancient suppression seals in a fraction of a second.

The Pontiff’s eyes widened in genuine shock as the relic warmed in his hands.

"You recognize these markings," he breathed, his voice trembling with newfound awe.

"I don’t," Rhaevia replied truthfully, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"Perhaps your mind does not," the Pontiff countered softly, "but your soul does."

Rhaevia felt her blood run cold as a strange, forgotten resonance vibrated in her back teeth.

The ancient tablet suddenly projected a brilliant fragment of holographic text into the air directly between them. The written language was unfamiliar, composed of sharp geometric lines and sweeping curves that defied modern linguistic logic.

Yet somehow, as Rhaevia stared at the floating symbols, her mind began translating the ancient script automatically.

A clear, golden translation appeared within her consciousness, echoing like a whisper in an empty room.

[WHEN THE SOVEREIGN RETURNS, THE SEALED STAR SHALL OPEN.]

A second line of glowing text manifested immediately beneath the first, burning brightly in the dim chamber air.

[WHEN THE SOVEREIGN REMEMBERS, THE ANCIENT ENEMY SHALL AWAKEN.]

Rhaevia’s eyes widened as the heavy words settled into her chest, stirring memories that felt both impossibly distant and terrifyingly fresh.

The Pontiff stared directly into her eyes, his voice dropping into a solemn, heavy tone as he prepared to deliver the final truth.

"The prophecy explicitly states that when you awaken completely, the universe will split anew," he proclaimed softly.

Before he could finish his speech, the crystalline tablet in his hands suddenly released a blinding flash of deep crimson light that illuminated every corner of the vast hall.

The glowing alien symbols floating in the air broke apart and rapidly rearranged themselves in a frantic pattern.

A final, terrifying sentence resolved itself in glowing, blood-red characters directly before Rhaevia’s face.

[THE SOVEREIGN SHALL CHOOSE THE ONE WHO STANDS BESIDE HER WHEN THE KING RETURNS.]