Chapter 40 #2
He laughed, but there was no amusement in it—only nervousness.
“Well, if you like Serguei so much, why didn’t you ask him?”
“Because I wanted to hear your side of the story,” I replied, bracing myself for an argument.
“Which part?”
“I don't know... Whatever you're willing to share.”
Zion stayed silent for five heartbeats, then sighed:
“It's complicated... for as long as I can remember, our relationship has been off-balance.... Serguei is unstable,” he paused, gathering his thoughts.
“He confuses protection with suspicion and control.
I've heard he used to trust people easily and avoided reading their minds because he saw it as an invasion of privacy. But after...” He seemed even more nervous.
“After my mother betrayed him, he started suspecting everyone, so he began listening freely to the thoughts around him.
That made him even worse, because now he can't tell the difference between what's spoken and what's thought—his mind treats them the same.”
I'd noticed this on several occasions. Serguei had no filter—every vulgar, crude thought was handled matter-of-factly, as if he heard such things constantly.
“There's no record of Ravena having a child with Serguei. How did that happen without anyone knowing?”
“Not even Serguei knew about me. Before she died, she spent two years on a 'mission'—that's when she hid the pregnancy and gave birth in another city. When I turned ten, he came for me, and even with all the power the city had, no one could stop him. He brought me to Interion, erased every memory of my old life, and turned me into what I am today.”
I swallowed hard. That alone was reason enough to hate someone. The Drutes had done the same to me, but instead of turning me into a weapon, they'd turned me into a slave.
“And what was your relationship with him like?” I asked.
“Bad,” Zion said with a humorless laugh.
“During my childhood, Serguei would sweep through my mind regularly—and everyone else's around him—but with me it was always worse, because when he looked at me, all he saw was my mother.
Things only went smoothly between us when he was in control.
He was violent and unstable, couldn't rein in his paranoia, and ended up taking it out on me.”
“Then, when I turned sixteen, I realized he'd started modifying my mind, trying to erase parts of my personality that he saw as weakness. I think his goal was to turn me into an exact copy of himself, so that when the wars came, I wouldn't care about anything but winning.”
“That's horrible, Zion,” I said, imagining how difficult that time must have been for him.
“It went on for years until one day Kaori, Akira, and I...” He paused, and I knew this was where things had gone wrong. “We'd just graduated and thought we were ready for a mission, even though the general said we weren't. We...”
He cut himself off again. Since I was on the other side, I couldn't see him, but I imagined his face showed distress. I knew him well enough to know there'd be a furrow in his brow—a sign of how deeply it hurt. Beneath my feet, the ocean stirred. Waves crashed against each other, churning up foam.
“Anyway, a lot happened. After Akira's funeral, we fought—and it wasn't like before. We ended up in a mental battle, and that time, I managed to pull away using the shadows and my own barrier. That was the day we severed ties, but sometimes I still feel his curiosity and restlessness probing at my barrier.”
“You feel it?” I asked, not sure what he meant.
“I do. But that's a topic for another time—right now I want to focus on teaching you,” he said, and it was as if the barrier recoiled from my touch, pushing my hand away.
“What's happening?” I asked, staring at the barrier as it rippled and turned black as onyx.
“I'm fortifying it. This is how it looks when I'm under attack—thicker and completely numb. If you attack it, it'll repel you.”
Right in front of me, his black wall solidified, and even the ocean beneath my feet grew darker.
“What's all this water beneath us?”
“That's the subconscious. It's where the essence of our souls resides—you shouldn't go in there. And you should never enter someone else's, because once it's invaded, either you kill or you die.”
I shuddered at the thought. That was how Serguei eliminated people.
“Now that you know how everything works, we'll head back to your side,” I heard him say as a door opened in his wall and a Zion made of dark mist stepped through.
The door closed, becoming part of the wall again.
I stayed quiet, thinking about everything he'd just told me.
Now some things made sense, and something told me Serguei was somehow connected to Akira's death.
“I'm sorry for everything that happened,” I murmured as we walked—him made of shadows, me of red energy.
“Don't be. It's in the past now. Despite everything, Serguei made me strong. Strong enough to fight him and win. Not just mentally, because he's also the best warrior I've ever known.”
“I can't imagine him fighting. I know he was a member of the night squad and led from the front lines, but he's too pompous for that.”
“Trust me, he's Jupiter's best warrior. He always said he was taught by the greatest warrior ever to walk this world.”
I stopped in the middle of the rainbow-colored path.
“Is there a problem?” Zion asked.
“Serguei said my mother was the one who trained him,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
“Lagherta was the woman who trained him? He never mentioned that.”
Once the information sank in, I started walking beside him again, still a bit shocked to learn that Serguei’s fighting style came from my mother. The tunnel began to brighten, and we stopped at the edge of my mind. But now, with Zion by my side, I could see it differently.
“This wasn’t like this a few minutes ago,” I murmured, stunned by what I saw. It was my mind, but I’d never seen it this way.
“You’re seeing its true form. There are three levels of consciousness: the first is the surface mind—it has no form, and it’s where we spend most of our time.
The second is the submind, where we are now.
You can only see it if a telepath, or someone who’s already awakened it, shows you the way.
Dreams usually happen at this level. Finally, the third is the subconscious—the place beneath our feet. ”
If Zion’s mind was like a turbulent ocean, mine was like the sky on an autumn day. Beneath our feet lay orange clouds, and below them, red lightning bolts collided, creating webs of light.
“Interesting. It’s quite different from mine,” he said.
We moved forward, and I felt us pass through something thin, like a film of gelatin.
I let him take the lead and followed behind, my eyes on the ground, staring at the lightning bolts colliding in my subconscious.
Zion stopped in the center and waited for me to finish my inspection.
His non-eyes tracked me steadily, and even here, I felt hot and anxious under his gaze.
“So this is what you think when you blush.” His non-lips pulled into a half smile.
“W-what? You heard that?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, we’re inside your submind. That film you compared to something thin and gelatinous? That was actually your natural mental barrier.”
I stared at the translucent film in amazement. Then I went back and ran my hands over it. It was so thin it didn’t even feel physical—it really did seem like gelatin. It dissolved and reformed as I touched it. A shiver ran down my spine, as if some nerve was being tugged. I started to laugh.
“And you call this a barrier?” I laughed. “It would be less embarrassing if it didn’t exist.”
“It’s not embarrassing, Kay. It’s like a muscle that’s never been used. Look, at least you have somewhere to start. If it’s already here, you just need to work on strengthening it.”
“And how do I do that?” I tried to feel something by touching the film, but there wasn’t even a pulse—it was so withered.
“You need to imagine it as something resistant, and then let your own mind rebuild it from your gift,” he explained, keeping his distance from the film but watching me.
“What did you imagine for your barrier?” I asked, frowning. His had seemed to be made of bulletproof glass before it turned black.
“At first I imagined steel, but as you can see, it didn’t work,” he said, a bit awkwardly.
“Then I imagined concrete. I imagined so many things it would be exhausting to list them all. It started working when I visualized stones—more specifically, black quartz, a stone known as onyx. From there, I finally managed to create something.”
“So I should keep imagining until I create something compatible?”
“Yes, that’s how it worked for me, but we won’t know until you try. So, try.”
He waited expectantly, watching the gelatinous film, while I walked around the barrier, not knowing what to do. Imagining abstract things in front of Zion would be embarrassing.
“If it’s any consolation, it took me three days to create something even minimally physical while Serguei lectured me about how ridiculous I was. Don’t be embarrassed—you’ll fail plenty before you succeed. Just pretend I’m not here.”
How could I pretend Zion wasn’t there? How could I ignore the presence of a man like him? I’d have to fight my own submind to avoid him.
“Maybe I’m enjoying being on this side a little too much,” he teased, making my cheeks flush even more.
“Maybe these aren’t even close to my best thoughts.”
If he wanted to play, I’d play too. Zion laughed behind me.
“Charming, Kyller, but I think you should start working before we need to materialize some air freshener in here.”
I choked—if my non-throat could even choke—and coughed up red mist while staring at him.
“What did you say?” I must have heard wrong. There was no way he knew. He laughed even harder and crossed his arms, waiting.
“Come on. Strengthen the barrier!” he urged, gesturing with his chin.