Page 91 of The Sovereign: Part One
His gaze slid toward our frozen moments.“It took most of the night after the Carnival to reconstruct the images.The original captures were sourced from drone streams.I isolated the frames, reconstructed them using the Tirix adaptive clarity interface, and then used a latent-ink transfer process to create the images themselves.Printed on retextured cellulose.Took some negotiating.”
“Negotiating with who?”
He grinned.“A Sovereign technician on night shift at The Crèche, someone with an appreciation for antique restoration and access to legacy materials.I admired his work.He was eager to show me.”
Despite myself, my mouth curved.
He leaned toward me on his elbow, the mattress shifting beneath his weight.“Tell me.You waking up like the world’s ending… I’m starting to take it personally.”
I leaned into him, and the sharp edge of panic receded, dissolving into the calm he carried with unsettling ease.“It isn’t you.”I sighed.“It’s everything else.”
He didn’t speak, just curved his arm around me, holding me in a stillness that didn’t require explanation, and we stayed that way for a while, the space between us unmarred by expectation.
Eventually, I turned my head, my cheek still resting against his shoulder.“Our Dyadic Assessment is tomorrow.”
“Yes,” he said.“The Citadel’s version of couples therapy, confirming we’re emotionally compatible, behaviorally aligned, and worthy of continued investment.You’re worried?”
“It’s been on my mind.Shielding has worked in our favor until now, but what if it compromises us in the session?What if The Citadel’s records are incomplete?”
“You think the system is extrapolating data.And if our version doesn’t match—”
“We’ll be exposed.”
He nodded slowly.“Then we stay inside the lines.If something unpredictable comes up, one of us answers.The other adapts.”
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.“Maxim, that isn’t a plan.If they discover full sync tracking has been blocked, they won’t care that it wasn’t us who did it.We didn’t report it.They’ll pull us from Vesture.”
“Then we keep to shared memories, only reference what we both know has been mirrored in system logs.”
“It’s not that simple.What if we recall something that doesn’t exist in their record?All it will take is a single moment, a detail.They don’t know what to look for, not yet.But if we give them cause to examine anything closely, the inconsistencies won’t be hard to find.If even one sequence pings off-pattern, they’ll backtrace everything until they find the missing data.”I waited a beat, trying to read his eyes.“You’re trying to reassure me, and I’m grateful.But, you know I’m right.”
He didn’t argue.
“We need Lev,” I said quietly.“He’ll know what The Citadel has seen.What’s stored.I trust him.He worked closely with my papa.”
Maxim nodded once.“Then we see Lev.Today.”
The transport glided in near silence, so smooth it barely registered as movement.Only the subtle shift of light through the windows marked our progress, a current carrying us toward the Enclave.I sat angled toward the window, watching Hyperion Proper give way to the understated difference in design marking our education building’s domain.Its architecture had always struck me as elegant—gleaming surfaces, thoughtful curves—but older in its aesthetic.It didn’t demand attention like The Citadel.
The Enclave didn’t flaunt its importance, it embodied it, its refined architecture and understated design reflecting knowledge, progress, and tradition.A nod to neoclassical influence ran through its symmetrical lines and timeless façade, infusing both gravitas and grace.I had walked its halls as a child, attended my earliest lessons in one wing, and would later complete the final phase of my Veritas in another.It was where young minds were shaped and adult commitments were forged, a place that guided us from our first questions to our final answers.
Our transport slowed to a stop just a few meters from the threshold.The Enclave’s elegant sweep of curved stone and transpane offered just the first glimpse of the luxury inside.Above the arched entrance, a single emblem marked its importance: a minimalist rendering of the original schematic of a Supplicant’s neural core, subtle but unmistakable.
We stepped out and the transport veered off, guided by the auto-routing system into the underground port.Maxim extended his arm, guiding me past the Skith port and through the entrance, into filtered warmth and the faint scent of aged tech: metallic trace, polymer composite, and something immaculate yet subdued.
Lev was already waiting in the atrium, its vaulted arches and mirrored surfaces designed to evoke wonder.
“Isara,” he greeted me, stepping forward.“And this must be Maxim.”His eyes flicked from me to Maxim, quietly studying him before extending a hand.
“Nice to meet you, Chief Architect Navon,” Maxim said, taking it with one firm shake.
Lev chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets.“I’ve always felt a little strange about the title.Chief Architectsounds as if I’m building Hyperion with a drafting pen and a stack of concrete blocks.But the truth is, most of what I built you’ll never see.It’s stitched into the framework, buried beneath protocols and power grids, running behind every AI node and behavioral script.The bones of Hyperion aren’t stone.They’re code.”
“Then it’s fair to say Hyperion Proper stands on your foundation, sir,” Maxim said with a nod.
I smiled as Lev turned and took my hands with a warm smile that seemed to be reserved just for me.“Come.I’ll escort you to my office.”As we walked, his gaze swept the corridor.“Gila says the walls have more eyes than they used to.”
I glanced back at Maxim.“That’s why we’re here.”My voice was barely above a whisper, but Lev nodded quickly, signaling he was acutely aware.
