In the opulent suite occupying the top floor of Tyron Mansion's west wing, Lady Vareth savored the night's quiet. The only sound was the soft crackling of an enchanted fire in the black marble fireplace and the almost imperceptible clink of magic ice in her crystal goblet, which held a rare distillate infused with ghost-lotus. The panoramic windows showed a nocturnal Lysendar dotted with cold lights and distant patrols – a tense city, under the feverish pulse of the Purification Protocol, but which, from that height, seemed merely a complex model under her control.

  Control. The word defined Vareth Tyron. Control over her emotions, her House, her network of influence, over the very perception the world had of her. And, above all, control over the pieces she moved on her private board of power and survival.

  A light knock on the door interrupted her reverie.

  "Enter, Marius," she said, without turning, recognizing the discreet signature of her personal security chief in the door's permission protocols.

  Marius entered. A tall man, face impassive and scarred, dressed in the dark gray and matte gold uniform of the Tyron elite guard. His eyes were cold and efficient. He stopped at a respectful distance and bowed slightly.

  "My Lady. The report you requested on unusual activities in the textile district's cargo tunnels."

  "Proceed," Vareth ordered, slowly swirling the goblet between pale fingers.

  "One of our discreet observers in the underground black market reported a... peculiar encounter, hours ago. Two unidentified figures, one young female and one male of military build, were seen in contact with one of your servants. Elara."

  Vareth raised a delicate eyebrow. Elara. Lina's servant. A loyal servant, though somewhat sentimental. What interest would Elara have in the black market? Medicine for Lina, as the fool had asked permission for earlier? Or something more?

  "The description of the unidentified figures?" Vareth asked, tone still neutral.

  "The male figure couldn't be clearly identified, kept to the shadows. But the female was young, agile build, dark hair, and carried a dissonant aura. The observer, trained to detect subtle anomalies as instructed by my Lady, felt a fluctuation in the Code around her. And noted she carried a dagger of unusual style, with runes not belonging to System patterns."

  Vareth froze for an instant, goblet paused midway to her lips. A Zero. Dissonant aura. Unusual dagger. And the recent news of the fall of Grenda and the Circle. It couldn't be coincidence.

  "And Elara? The nature of the interaction?"

  "It seemed tense, My Lady. Whispered. Swift. The servant appeared frightened. There was an exchange, a small object passed to the female figure before Elara fled. The observer couldn't identify the object, but the young woman's description matches the images of the Zero Anomaly, Lysa, circulating with the Purification Decree."

  A slow smile, cold as the ice in her goblet, began to form on Vareth's lips. Lysa. Here. In Lysendar. Foolish enough to crawl back into the territory of one of her first collectors. And foolish enough to contact a servant of House Tyron.

  "Elara..." Vareth murmured, the name now sounding like a sentence. Betrayal through sentimentality. Unforgivable. But also useful. "Marius, bring Elara to me. Now. Use necessary discretion. No one, not even Lina, must know."

  Marius nodded and disappeared as silently as he entered.

  Vareth stood and walked to the window, observing the city lights below. Lysa in Lysendar. The Anomaly who ruptured Codes. The creature who survived Grenda, Hadrik, Sario, herself, and now decimated the Circle's elite. No longer the "old doll" from the pedestal. Something new. Something dangerous. Something fascinating.

  Alerting the System immediately would be the logical, safest response. Giving Lysa's approximate location to the Guard or the Throne itself would ensure her swift neutralization under the Purification's overwhelming force. But Vareth Tyron rarely chose the most obvious solution, especially when it didn't bring her direct benefit.

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  Handing Lysa over to the System meant losing control over her. Meant allowing the machine to destroy her or, worse, capture her for its own study. Vareth had her own interests in the Zero Anomaly. That ability to rupture, to undo codes was something she herself had been researching in secret, in the deepest, most forbidden levels of her vaults, where she kept the "Echo" – that fragment of Pre-System power resonating with the very essence of creation and destruction. Lysa could be the key to understanding, perhaps even controlling, the Echo's power. Or, at the very least, a valuable specimen for runic and conceptual dissection.

  And there was the matter of personal vengeance. The audacity of that Zero surviving, returning, daring to step into her city was an offense demanding personal, elegant, and definitive correction. The Purification was a useful, but crude tool. Vareth preferred the precision of her own hands, her own web.

  Besides, there was the risk. If the System investigated Lysa's capture in Lysendar too deeply, they might discover Elara. Might discover Vareth's interest in anomalies. Might discover the Echo. No. Better to keep the System at arm's length for now.

  She would use her own resources. Her elite guard, her observers, her network of influence stretching through the city's shadows. Capture Lysa herself, in secret. Bring her back to the mansion – not to a pedestal this time, but a far more sophisticated cage, one where her mind and Code could be carefully dismantled.

  And perhaps, just perhaps, she could use the Purification itself to her advantage. Increase pressure in the low districts, force Lysa and her ragged band to make mistakes, expose themselves.

  The door opened again. Marius returned, bringing Elara between two silent guards. The servant was waxen pale, trembling uncontrollably. Seeing Lady Vareth standing by the window, cold eyes fixed on her, Elara let out a low moan and fell to her knees.

  "My Lady... I swear... I didn't..."

  Vareth raised a hand, silencing her. Approached slowly, circling the kneeling servant like a predator studying prey.

  "Elara," Vareth's voice was soft as silk, yet sharp as broken glass. "So many years of loyal service. Such discretion. Such apparent devotion. Especially to my daughter. And now I find you trading secrets with trash in the tunnels. With a wanted anomaly. A threat to our House, our city, the very Order. Why?"

  "I... I just wanted medicine... for Lady Lina..." Elara sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "And she... the other one... she recognized me... I was afraid..."

  "Afraid?" Vareth tilted her head. "Afraid of her? Or afraid of me, should I discover your little betrayal?" She crouched, face to face with the servant. The black rose perfume enveloped Elara, suffocating. "You passed information to her, didn't you? Information about this house. About me. About Lina."

  Elara shook her head frantically, but her eyes betrayed her.

  "Confirmed what the observer reported," Marius intervened, voice neutral. "The residual signature on the data crystal she carried matches tech used for discreet information transfers. She spoke with the Anomaly. And exchanged something."

  Vareth smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Foolish. Sentimental. Disposable." She stood, smoothing a non-existent crease in her dress. "You could have had a quiet old age, Elara. But you chose the wrong loyalty. Marius..."

  "Yes, My Lady?"

  "Prepare Elara for thorough interrogation. Use the Silent Chamber methods. I want to know exactly what she told the Anomaly. Every word. Every detail about her movements and her companions'. And when you're finished, ensure her silence is absolute and permanent. It was a regrettable lapse in our internal security. Correct it."

  Elara let out a scream of pure terror as the guards grabbed her arms, dragging her from the room. Her pleas for mercy were cut off as the door closed.

  Vareth returned to the window, ignoring the echo of the servant's despair. Picked up a discreet runic communicator from a drawer.

  "Marius, after dealing with the Elara matter, I want you to activate Protocol Shadow in the docks and textile district. Double the discreet surveillance. Use the tuned detectors. I want every movement in that area monitored. No public arrests for now, unless absolutely necessary. I don't want to alert the System. I want them to feel watched. Cornered. I want them to make a mistake."

  "Understood, My Lady. And regarding the System Guard and the official Purification Protocol?"

  "Let them make noise in other sectors. Keep our interests separate. If necessary, use my authority to redirect official patrols away from the west zone for a few nights. Say we have information about a smugglers' nest in another area. Keep their focus away from our private hunt."

  "Yes, My Lady."

  The communication ended. Vareth Tyron stood there, watching the dark city, mind already working, weaving the web. Lysa was in her city, thinking she was hidden. Little did she know the Lady's gaze had already found her. The hunt wouldn't be with the System's blind brutality. It would be a game. A game of patience, pressure, control. And Vareth Tyron always won her games. The cold smile returned to her lips. The night in Lysendar would be long. And interesting.