Page 61 of Aïdes the Unseen
I sat down at my desk and logged into my computer. With trembling fingers, I typed in Kassian Harpe to the search bar.
Nothing.
No social presence. No company site. No board memberships. Just a name.
I tabbed to a different program and logged into security, then searched through the stills for the time when Harpe arrived. I captured one via the plugin we used for safety reviews and saved it.
With that done, I refined the query to do a reverse image search. That got me something, but not remotely what I expected.
The same face. Different name—no, not just one name. Multiple names.
Sebastian Rhagos, venture backer for a weapons lab in Nevada.
Lucien Varo, keynote speaker at an “elite resilience summit” in 2019. What even was elite resilience?
Unknown male in the background of a grainy photo dated in the 1990s. The man shook hands with a U.S. general and had the exact same face as Harpe. Not aged a day.
There were more names. More activities.
One man. Dozens of names. Dozens of suits. No other trail to follow. A search on those names turned up the same as Kassian Harpe.
Leaning back in the chair, I stared at my reflection in the dark screen and then down at the puppy who had crept closer to lean against my leg.
“Right,” I said softly. “Not just charm. Definitelynot just charm.”
I pulled open the drawer with my cell phone again. I could still call Mom, and tell her what?
That was the point, I didn’t even know what was going on to tell her. I shut the drawer again. Then, heart hammering, I returned to the search bar and typed in Graven Skotos, then hit enter.
I needed more.
Chapter
Twelve
GRAVEN
She was remembering.
Not fully. Not yet. But something inside her had stirred—and the world was already beginning to bend around it.
I stood in Simulation Room Two again, eyes locked on the glowing node web. Irina’s outline pulsed slowly, like the beat of a shallow tide. Nearby, the dog’s signal sparked with erratic flickers—chaotic, untethered, instinctive.
But that wasn’t what disturbed me.
No, it was the absence. Another presence had entered her orbit this morning. Something—someone—powerful. Masked from the system, which meant it wasn’t one of mine.
Mara stood behind me, silent.
“You told me she was stable,” I said quietly.
“She was.”
“And now?”
“Disturbed.” She stepped forward, fingers twitching at the edge of her gloves. “Ares was there.”
My jaw tightened. “In the greenhouse?”
