The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"Who?"

Kain's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "They'll know."

And then, his body convulsed.

The air in the chamber turned sharp, charged with something raw and unnatural. The alchemists recoiled as a sudden surge of power crackled through Kain's restraints, snapping some of the weaker sigils in place. His breath came in gasps, sweat rolling down his temples as he fought.

Not against them.

Against himself.

The moment stretched, thick with something unseen. Kain's lips parted, forming words that did not belong to him.

"They're already here."

And then, he slumped.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Veylan's gaze did not waver. He exhaled slowly, turning his attention to the alchemists. "Is the lock broken?"

One of them swallowed hard. "No. It… resisted. Something reinforced it just now. It wasn't us."

A hand tightening its grip.

Veylan's mind burned with possibilities, with implications that sent a cold knot curling in his gut.

They traced Kain's movements, combing through every mission, every interaction, every conversation.

And then they found it.

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Patterns.

Small, hidden beneath the mundane.

Kain had interacted with several high-ranking operatives who had since disappeared. Others had been found dead under unexplained circumstances.

Always after routine missions. Always after simple debriefings.

He was never the first to act. He was always one of the last to speak.

A ripple in the current.

A whisper in the void.

A carefully placed pawn, waiting for the right moment to move.

A chilling realization settled over them.

This infiltration wasn't just Kain.

This was systematic.

Kain was just one of many.

____

The chamber was suffocating in its silence. The walls, rough-hewn stone reinforced with technomantic glyphs, pulsed faintly with containment runes designed to suppress any form of magic or mental interference. The air was thick with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the faint, rhythmic drip of condensation seeping through the ceiling and pooling onto the cold, uneven floor.

Kain sat in the center, motionless.

His wrists were bound, though not by ordinary shackles—no, these were something else. Cuffs laced with leyline inhibitors, suppressing any latent magical energy that could surge within him. His breathing was steady, too steady. His pulse had returned to normal. If one did not know what had transpired, they would assume he was just another soldier resting after a long mission. His eyes, however, betrayed the lie.

They were too distant. Too vacant.

Veylan watched from behind the reinforced observation glass, his hands clasped behind his back. The technomancers flanking him observed the monitors, eyes scanning through streams of data recording every microexpression, every muscle twitch, every irregularity.

Nothing.

The man they had known as Kain Varros sat in silence, neither afraid nor defiant. Not broken. Not waiting. Just… still.

"He's stable," one of the technomancers murmured, scanning a leyline diagnostic. "There's no fluctuation in his neural pathways. No indication of external interference since his capture."

A younger acolyte, hunched over another monitor, hesitated before speaking. "It's strange, though. His vitals were erratic during the fight—off the charts even—but now? It's as if nothing happened. His heart rate is controlled. His stress levels, non-existent."

Veylan's eyes narrowed.

That was the problem.

It wasn't just that Kain had calmed down. It was that he had reset, as if the outburst had never occurred.

Not a hint of residual panic. No fear. No confusion.

A mind that had been turned on and off.

Veylan had seen broken men before—soldiers who had been captured, tortured, manipulated. They all showed signs of the struggle, scars of internal war etched into their expressions. Even the best-trained spies carried the weight of deception in their mannerisms.

Kain, however, was empty.

Not blank. Not unreadable.

Just... waiting.

Veylan let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening behind his back. "Prepare for another round of mental probing. If his memories are locked, we will unlock them."

The lead technomancer hesitated. "Inquisitor, forcing an intrusion into a fractured mind can—"

"I am aware," Veylan interrupted, his voice low but final. "Do it."

The technomancer bowed slightly and turned back to the monitoring panel. The process began instantly. Kain's restraints tightened slightly, the inhibitors amplifying their suppression fields as the technomancers worked. A pulse of blue light flickered along the walls of the chamber, signaling the first wave of memory extraction.

At first, nothing happened.

Kain did not flinch. His expression remained passive.

But then, the tremors started.

His fingers twitched. His jaw tightened. His breath hitched for the first time since his capture.

The memory lock was reacting.

On the monitor, data spiked erratically. Fragments of thoughts, emotions, something buried deep began surfacing—but it wasn't coherent. It was distorted, fragmented beyond recognition.

Kain's lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Stop."

The single word echoed through the chamber like a ghost's breath.

The technomancer's fingers hovered over the controls, unsure whether to proceed. He looked to Veylan for confirmation.

The Inquisitor did not hesitate. "Continue."

The pressure in the room shifted.

Kain's breathing turned ragged, his muscles tensing as if some unseen force was pressing down on him. His fingers dug into the stone beneath him, leaving white impressions on his knuckles. His head tilted slightly, as if listening to something that no one else could hear.

Then his lips moved again.

"I can't… stop."

His voice cracked, raw, as if something inside him was splintering.

The words weren't a plea. They weren't resistance.

They were realization.

"Kain," Veylan's voice came through the intercom, calm but commanding. "Who did this to you?"@@novelbin@@

Kain's pupils dilated. His lips trembled as if forming words he didn't understand.

His expression shifted.

Terror.

It was the first real emotion he had shown since his capture.

A choked breath escaped him, and he clenched his jaw so tightly it looked like his teeth might shatter. His body trembled, but not from pain.

From fear.

Whoever had done this to him—whoever had implanted the commands inside his mind—had hidden them well. And now, even touching those memories was triggering something buried so deep that Kain himself seemed afraid to face it.

The lead technomancer stepped forward, voice low. "If we push further, we could cause irreparable damage."

Veylan studied Kain carefully.

The man's fingers were digging into his own arms now, his body curling slightly forward, as if trying to physically hold himself together. He was breaking—but not in the way that spies broke under pressure. No, this was different.

This was a mind fighting itself.

Like two consciousnesses battling for control.

"Kain," Veylan tried again, slower this time. "Who did this?"

Kain's eyes snapped up, wide, unblinking.

His voice came in a whisper.

"I did."

The words sent a chill down the room.

A moment of stunned silence followed. The acolytes monitoring the data feeds exchanged uneasy glances, as if unsure whether they had heard correctly.

Veylan's expression did not change. He remained still, studying Kain's face, waiting for the next words.

Kain exhaled shakily, his head lowering slightly. "I did this… I let them in."

His body tensed as though the very act of admitting it caused him pain. "I let them in… and I don't even know when."

The fractured sun emblem on his wrist flickered, the glow dim but erratic, as if something within the marking was reacting to his struggle.

Kain's hands trembled.

"How long have I been…?"

His voice broke.

Veylan inhaled slowly. He had seen enough.

He turned to the technomancers. "Cease the extraction."

They obeyed instantly. The suppression field dimmed, the hum of magic receding from the chamber.

Kain sagged, his breath unsteady, sweat dripping down his face.

Veylan pressed a command rune on the intercom, his voice as calm as ever. "Let him rest. Do not attempt further intrusion until I say so."

The lead technomancer hesitated, then nodded. "Understood."

The lights in the chamber adjusted, dimming to a more neutral state. The containment runes remained active, but the invasive scans subsided. Kain was left to breathe, to exist in his fractured reality for a while longer.

Veylan stepped back from the observation glass, his mind sharpening like a blade.

They had been looking for a single enemy, a singular infiltrator.

But now?

Now he understood.

This wasn't about a person being turned.

This was something worse.

It wasn't an invasion.

It was an infection.

Kain's words lingered in his mind, repeating like a haunting melody.

"I let them in."

Not someone.

"Them."

The realization settled deep within Veylan's chest, a cold, undeniable truth.

This had not started with Kain.

This had started long before.

And it had not ended.

Not even close.

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

Veylan's gaze snapped back to the chamber.

Kain was laughing.

Soft at first. Then louder. A dry, knowing chuckle.

"You still don't see it, do you?" His voice was calm now. Too calm.

Veylan did not move.

Kain turned his head slightly, as if he knew he was being watched. His lips barely moved as he whispered:

"The real one's still out there."

Veylan's expression remained stone. But inside, a single thought coiled in the depths of his mind.

How many more are there?