Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

Elise Rowe's perfectly manicured fingers traced the rim of her teacup as she studied Noah with clinical detachment. When she spoke again, her voice carried the practiced precision of someone who measured every word before releasing it.

"My daughter has always been... special," she said, the word hanging between them like something slightly distasteful. "I suppose that's what attracted you to her initially."

Noah remained silent, sensing the careful construction of her approach.

"Perhaps not just a classmate, then?" Elise raised an eyebrow. "Lila has always had difficulty with appropriate boundaries. A developmental issue we addressed extensively in her childhood."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Noah replied evenly, though his pulse quickened.

"Developmental issues?" Kelvin whispered in his ear. "That's rich people code for 'my kid's a psychopath but we sent her to expensive therapy.'"

Elise sighed delicately. "Mr. Eclipse, let me be direct. Lila has special needs. Has had them since childhood. Her... emotional regulation has always been problematic. Her fixations, particularly unhealthy."

Noah's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Fixations?"

"Yes. She becomes obsessed quite easily. With people, with ideas." Elise waved a hand dismissively. "It's a pattern we've seen repeated many times. She latches onto someone, convinces herself of some grand connection, and inevitably... well, it ends poorly."

"Ends poorly how?" Noah asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Elise's smile was thin. "The last young man required extensive medical care afterward. The one before that..." she paused deliberately, "changed schools and, I believe, surnames."

"This is seriously messed up," Kelvin muttered in Noah's ear. "She's basically saying her daughter is Fatal Attraction in a school uniform."

"Are we talking of the same person? Lila as in my classmates? She isn't like that," Noah said firmly, setting down his cup with slightly more force than necessary.

Elise's eyes gleamed with something that might have been triumph. "Your 'classmate,' as you call her, has a documented history of manipulation, fabrication, and emotional volatility. The medications help, of course, when she takes them."

Noah felt heat rising to his face, his carefully maintained control slipping. "You're talking about your daughter like she's a case study."

"I'm talking about my daughter like someone who understands her nature," Elise corrected. "Something you clearly do not, despite your... involvement."

"She can't be saying this stuff," Kelvin whispered. "No one talks about their kid like this. What mother does this?"

Noah's hands tightened into fists on his knees. Every instinct told him this woman was dangerous, that she was deliberately baiting him, but something raw and protective overrode his caution.

"I've seen how you and your husband treat Lila," he said, voice low and hard. "Like she's an inconvenience. Like she's somehow failed you by being herself."

"Noah, careful," Kelvin warned in his ear. "Remember, we're gathering intel, not starting a family feud."

Elise didn't react to Noah's outburst, simply tilting her head slightly as if he'd confirmed something for her. "You haven't seen anything, Mr. Eclipse. You've seen what Lila wanted you to see."

"I saw enough when she collapsed last week," Noah continued, anger rising in his throat. "You showed up at the medical wing like she'd interrupted your social calendar. Your own daughter, unconscious, and you barely looked at her."

"Oh crap," Kelvin muttered. "Personal attacks. That's... that's not good."

"You don't know her," Noah said, rising to his feet. "You talk about her like she's some defective product you manufactured, not a person. No wonder she—"

"No wonder she what, Mr. Eclipse?" Elise interrupted, her voice still perfectly calm. "Seeks validation from classmates who know nothing about her? Constructs elaborate narratives to gain sympathy? Creates fictional versions of her family to justify her behavior?"

She stood as well, smoothing her dress with practiced ease. "Did she tell you we abused her? Neglected her? That we're secretly villains in her tragic origin story?"

Noah said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.

"You might consider," Elise continued, "that you're not the first young man to stand before me, convinced my daughter is misunderstood. Convinced that he alone sees the real Lila Valentine Rowe."

"Noah, this is getting weird," Kelvin warned in his ear. "Like, horror movie weird. Get out of there, buddy."

"You treat her like she's nothing," Noah snapped, his composure fracturing. "I've seen it. The way you both look at her—like she's a disappointment. Like she's beneath you."

"And you believe you understand her better than her own family?" Elise's expression hardened slightly. "After what—a few months? A handful of secret meetings? Some shared confidences that made you feel special?"

"Noah, DO NOT engage with Mrs. Purge about her parenting skills," Kelvin hissed desperately. "I repeat, DO NOT critique the terrorist lady's mothering!"

But Noah was past caution. The cold disdain in Elise's voice, the way she spoke about Lila—it struck too close to his own buried trauma. Eight years old, watching his parents board the Ark without him. The practiced smile on his mother's face as she explained why he couldn't come. The calculated distance in his father's farewell.

"I understand what it's like to be treated as an afterthought by people who are supposed to care," Noah said, each word deliberate and sharp. "I understand what it does to someone."

Elise's expression shifted then, something calculating entering her gaze. "Interesting. Perhaps you should consider working on that emotional control, Mr. Eclipse. Or didn't my daughter teach you how to channel such feelings into other forms of energy?"

Noah froze.

"Dark chi, I believe it's called?" Elise continued, her voice silky. "The same technique you used to qualify for the quarterfinals in the round of sixteen?"

The room seemed to tilt around Noah. There was no way she could know that. No way unless—

"Oh SHIT," Kelvin's voice crackled in his ear. "She knows about the techniques Lila taught you. How does she know? No one knows about that except—"

"You've been watching me," Noah said flatly.

"We've been watching many things, Mr. Eclipse," Elise replied. "Including your rather... unique approach to combat."

Noah turned abruptly. "I'm leaving."

"Noah, fascinating. FASCINATING!" Kelvin suddenly shouted through the earpiece. "CODE WORD! CODE—"

There was a thud and the sound of a brief scuffle before Kelvin's voice cut out completely.

Noah's head snapped up. "What did you—"

He sensed it before he saw it—a prickling awareness at the base of his skull that something was coming. Noah whirled around just as a wave of pure white energy with a reddish tint surged toward him from behind.

Time seemed to slow. The energy blade—he recognized it instantly—was moving too fast for evasion. No time to analyze exits. No time to think.

Pure instinct took over.

[Null strike activated]

Noah's right hand shot out, glowing with inky purple darkness as he activated Null Strike. His fist connected with the energy blade not to deflect it but to erase it from existence. The two forces collided, and the white-red energy simply vanished, leaving nothing but a faint ripple in the air.

Without hesitation, Noah bolted for the door, tearing it open and sprinting into the hallway. His mind raced with contradictory imperatives—find Kelvin, maintain cover, assess the threat.

The sound of slow, deliberate clapping followed him out.

Noah glanced back to see Elise Rowe standing in the doorway, her expression one of mild surprise mixed with something that might have been approval.

"Interesting," she said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "Very interesting indeed."

Then Noah was running, taking the emergency stairs three at a time, heading for the maintenance corridor where Kelvin had set up his surveillance. Panic clawed at his chest—not for himself, but for his friend. If they'd discovered Kelvin...

Three flights down, he burst through the maintenance door, sprinting down the dimly lit corridor. The space Kelvin had described—pipes marked "Biohazard" and all—was exactly where it should be.

But Kelvin wasn't there.

The makeshift surveillance station was abandoned, screens dark, equipment scattered as if hastily collected. The only thing remaining was Kelvin's watch—the custom-built device he never took off voluntarily—lying on the floor beneath one of the pipes.

Noah snatched it up, his mind racing through scenarios, each worse than the last.

"Kelvin," he muttered, his voice tight with controlled panic. "What the hell happened?"

The watch's screen was cracked, but still functional. Noah tapped it, bringing up the last recorded data—a security feed showing Kelvin hunched over his equipment, then looking up suddenly as shadows fell across him from behind. The feed cut out before showing who had approached.

Noah's first instinct was to return to room 712, to confront Elise Rowe directly. He sprinted back up the stairs, taking them even faster than he'd descended, cold determination replacing panic. He'd make her tell him where Kelvin was, whatever it took.

But when he reached the room, the door hung open, revealing an empty suite. The tea service remained, two cups still with liquid in them. No sign of Elise Rowe. No sign of whoever had launched that energy blade at him.

Noah stood in the doorway, mind racing. Kelvin was gone. The Rowes were gone. And he'd revealed his Null Strike ability—the very thing he'd been most determined to keep hidden.

For a moment, he simply stood there, calculations running through his mind. Then he turned and walked rapidly toward the elevator. If Kelvin had been taken, there would be footage. If the Rowes were involved with The Purge, there would be evidence.

But one thing was now abundantly clear: this wasn't just about Lila anymore.

As the elevator doors closed, Noah's reflection stared back at him—calm on the surface, but his eyes burning with part fear, part rage.

Somewhere in the building, Kelvin was missing. And somewhere, Elise Rowe was watching.

The game had just changed entirely.