Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Chapter 81: The Pandemic of Desire (2)

The Pandemic of Desire

2

Dmitri slammed his palm against the desk. Papers scattered, a few drifting to the floor. Indigo Crane didn’t react. He only sighed and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You let the Knight run free, and now it’s blown up in our faces,” Dmitri growled.

Indigo considered, not for the first time, how a man of such predictable temper had climbed so high in the organisation.

The professor folded his glasses neatly beside a stack of reports. “We agreed that Sir Damien wasn't a prisoner. He was a guest,” he said. “And I was unaware our elite surveillance teams could be outmanoeuvred by a homeless man breaching a secure perimeter.”

Dmitri’s glare sharpened. “Are you trying to pin this on me?”

Indigo tilted his head, a small hint of amusement in his voice. “Not at all. But as you know, my jurisdiction is research: tracking quantum signatures, studying interdimensional anomalies. Personnel oversight isn’t part of my remit. That’s yours.”

“We’re overstretched,” Dmitri said. “Gifted agents are deployed globally, helping local authorities contain this so-called ‘flu’ and everything that’s come with it. Half of them are sick themselves.”

Indigo took a checkered handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning his glasses. “Before we address the flu, let me be clear. What’s done is done. Sir Damien walked out, took a jet and a pilot, and was gone before I had the chance to stop him. That’s where we stand.”

“And your quantum computer still hasn’t found him?” Dmitri’s irritation was clear. “Facial recognition is too much to ask?”

Indigo slid his glasses back on and looked up. “The system is focused on two active threads. One, tracking the interdimensional wormhole tied to Damien’s origin. Two, predicting crimes and deploying agents in advance. The projected rise in sexual assault cases has already pushed it to its operational limit.”

“So have our field agents,” Dmitri muttered. “Or what’s left of them. Even the Van Nassaus offered their people to help.”

“Are they affected too?” Indigo asked.

“They’re not exactly known for sharing data, are they?” Dmitri sighed. “Do we know if the Eye is a portal yet?”

“We’ve compared Damien’s quantum resonance with the distortions surrounding the Eye. The results remain…” Indigo paused. “…inconclusive.”

Dmitri's jaw tightened. "Translate that.”

“It means if Damien reaches the Eye, convinced it’s the Queen of Shadows, there are two outcomes.” Indigo paused briefly. “One, he vanishes along with it, possibly returning to his original dimension. The anomaly resolves. Our research becomes irrelevant.”

Dmitri’s fingers twitched. “And the other?”

“He attacks it,” Indigo said. “And opens something we’re not equipped to contain. The result is catastrophic.”

“You’re certain it’s a threat?”

“There is evidence,” Indigo replied. “The flu that’s crippling our agents? I don’t believe it’s viral. The symptoms suggest a neuroimmune collapse. It’s as if their arcane energy is turning against their own bodies. And the surge in sexual assault cases may be connected to it.”

“Neuroimmune failure?” Dmitri asked. “So this isn’t contagious? You’re saying it’s supernatural?”

“It’s not spreading through contact. The pattern is too scattered, too global. That suggests an external disruptor, possibly a neuroelectric stimulus. Or a frequency anomaly interfering with cognition.”

“English, Crane. What the hell does that mean?”

“Something beyond our current understanding.” Indigo exhaled slowly. “And it’s almost certainly linked to the ‘Smoke Monster’—the interdimensional disturbance we triggered during early contact with the Eye.”

Dmitri’s fist hit the desk. “I thought we agreed to stop assigning blame.”

Indigo didn’t flinch. “I’m not assigning blame. I’m setting priorities. And right now, our priority is finding Sir Damien before this spirals beyond control.” He leaned in. “A few drone strikes have already caused this much damage. Imagine what could happen if someone like Damien … disturbs it?”

Dmitri’s jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. Finally, he leaned back. “What’s your proposal?”

Indigo smiled. “We suspend quantum frequency mapping. Keep predicting the assault patterns, but redirect the rest of the system’s processing power to scanning Alchymia. And the rest of the world, to be thorough.”

Dmitri gave a short nod. “That can be arranged. And how do you plan to bring him back?”

“We reinstate Adrian Van Nassau.”

Dmitri froze. A blink. Then he scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Adrian’s ability is the only real chance we have of changing Damien’s mind,” Indigo said.

“Adrian made a public fool of himself.”

“Under our orders,” Indigo countered. “As our scapegoat. But Chief Advisor… there is only one person who can convince Sir Damien. What would you choose?”

Dmitri’s fingers tapped against the desk.

He had maneuvered Adrian out of the equation using the Blackwood scandal. It had been calculated, necessary. An opportunity had presented itself to rid the organisation of a Van Nassau—a family he had never trusted, never wanted in their ranks. And he had taken it without hesitation.

But now…

The stakes had shifted. Pride was a luxury they couldn’t afford. If Adrian was their best chance, then there was no real choice at all.

Dmitri drew a deep breath. “I’ll make the arrangements,” he said quietly.

And he hated, more than anything, that Indigo Crane was right.

Astra leaned closer to Eydis, their shoulders brushing as they studied the pandemic reports on the screen. A mysterious fever with no detectable viral strain was spreading beyond the continent.

Eydis’s voice was quiet. “Why is the Council pushing this as just a flu? What are they trying to hide?”

Astra scoffed. “The real question is… what aren’t they hiding?”

“Ah. Omission. Tell the masses just enough to keep them complacent.” Eydis paused. “Even to you?”

Astra nodded.

"I wonder if the scale of this issue is limited to just the flu,” Eydis mused.

“Especially now that it’s global.” Astra gestured to the spread of red across the world map. “Do your Sins usually have this much reach?”

Eydis didn’t answer immediately. That was exactly what she wanted to know.

Since when had Lust gone viral?

“Not as I knew it,” she said.

Astra glanced at her. “You sound uncertain.”

“Lust was a connoisseur. A voyeur. It watched.” Eydis met Astra’s gaze. “Intimately.”

Astra’s brow furrowed. “So it couldn’t watch multiple people at once?”

“Temptation was a slow unravelling. Lust liked to immerse itself, to—” Eydis gestured vaguely, “savour the experience. Mass corruption? That was never its style, or its strength. And yet, somehow, it has corrupted this many people, this quickly.”

She paused. “Though… the effects weren’t as severe as I expected.”

Severe, as in something more devastating than a flu. Astra seemed to understand.

“The Council is doing what it can,” she murmured, before circling back. “But this world isn’t like ours. Could Lust evolve?”

“Not in raw power. But adapt? Exploit?" Eydis narrowed her eyes. "Absolutely."

Astra clicked another link. The screen changed to show a breakdown of cases. "The spread isn’t uniform. It’s global, but look…” She traced the densest zones with her fingertip. “Most cases are in the United States. Meanwhile, China and Iran have almost no recorded cases.”

Eydis leaned in, her gaze sharpening. Something wasn’t adding up. Lust should have spread first in Alchymia, where magic was raw, where power was most volatile. Where Natalia and apparently, Melissa’s date had already succumbed.

“That’s not a coincidence,” she muttered. “What makes them different?”

“Could be genetic resistance… or political landscape, maybe…” Astra’s gaze darted to a few neighbouring countries. “But if that were the case, then these should have similar immunity.” She gestured at regions where the spread persisted. “And they don’t.”

She turned to Eydis. “The Sins you’ve already captured… how did they adapt?”

Eydis tapped her lips, and Astra’s crimson eyes flicked toward the movement, distracted for just a second.

“Gluttony manipulated cold storage systems, poisoning entire food supplies undetected,” Eydis said. “Greed leveraged betting networks, played the Blackwood to tilt the election, and exploited gamblers and socialites chasing the illusion of an ‘unpredictable’ win.”

Astra leaned back. “So… technology.”

Eydis’s frown deepened. “But global influence—” Then, suddenly, her breath caught. Her eyes widened.

“Unless it’s using a medium to amplify itself...”

Astra stiffened beside her, the realisation slamming into them both at the same time.

Their gazes met. “The internet,” they said in unison.

A long silence followed.

Eydis let out a slow, unimpressed sigh. “Oh, of course. Lust finally figured out how to go viral—literally.”

“And, a certain website that's conveniently banned in the unaffected nations.” Astra’s cheeks dusted pink as she cleared her throat. “It’s—”

“—I know,” Eydis sighed. She didn’t need Astra to name it. She already knew.

Because she’d been there. That cursed adult site she’d visited last weekend.

Not for long, of course. A second, maybe two. She could justify it. Curiosity, perhaps. An academic interest in the mechanics of influence.

And yet…

The videos had been everywhere. Alluring in the way a fire was, even as it threatened to burn. She had dismissed them, yes. But not as quickly as she should have.

Because for a fraction of a moment, she had wondered.

What if—

Her fingers curled slightly against the desk, the thought left unfinished.

If Lust had embedded itself within the vast sprawl of the internet, then tracking it down would mean navigating its domain. Wading through its influence. And that presented a complication.

Because Eydis wasn’t entirely sure she could do that without…

Astra’s gaze flickered toward her, assessing in that sharp way of hers. “I could ask my partner.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Eydis replied tersely.

"You don't trust him?"

“I trust no one from the Council. Least of all him.” Eydis lowered her voice. "We agreed. No outside involvement. If we bring him in, we risk exposure."

She expected resistance. A logical counterpoint about priorities. Maybe a sigh of exasperation and some tightly worded comment about her paranoia.

Instead, Astra’s lips quirked. A ghost of a smile.

“Interesting way to avoid saying you're jealous.” Her voice was light, teasing.

Eydis blinked. "Jealous? That's a—"

"—pedestrian emotion," Astra finished for her, her smirk settling into something small but irrevocably insufferable. “Defensive, Your Majesty.”

Infuriating. Unbearably attractive.

Eydis tilted her head as though she were considering something of great importance. Then, she let out a soft laugh. “Oh, I’m not defending anything.”

Astra’s breath caught; so brief, so faint, that anyone else might have missed it.

Not Eydis.

“But I do wonder…” She let her gaze wander, linger, before meeting Astra’s again. “If I were jealous… what, exactly, would you do about it?”

Astra hesitated. Barely. Then leaned in just a fraction.

“I’d say…” Her voice was quieter now. “You’re not making this easy for me.”

“To do what?”

Astra let out a slow breath. Her next words were almost too quiet to catch. “To be patient.”

Eydis could hear her own breathing, feel the way Astra looked at her. She almost leaned forward to close the distance. Almost.

But not now.

Not with Lust out there, threading its influence into thoughts and bodies, twisting restraint into ruin.

Not when the last thing Eydis could afford was Astra waking up one day and looking at her with regret.

Regret.

Just like Natalia had. And Natalia wouldn’t even speak to her now. But if it came from Astra?

No. No.

Astra must have sensed the shift, because she was already drawing back. A move not of doubt, but of patience.

“We’ll find another way, Eydis,” she said firmly. “To track Lust.”

Eydis nodded, even as uncertainty began to take root.

“We’ll find another way.”