Chapter 369 I Am Alioth
No wonder Juniper had her doubts.
Catherine's style was almost a mirror image of Quinn's work. Even the way the accessories were paired, the way the pleats fell on the hemline — it was all unmistakably Quinn.
Many designers have a signature style, but for Quinn — an internationally acclaimed master — even the way a skirt falls in pleats is unmistakably Quinn's.
Catherine pressed her lips together, her tone calm. "Yeah, I know Quinn. After all, all my clothes are designed by Quinn."
Her wardrobe was practically a private Quinn collection. Ever since the Windsor family had discovered how stunning Catherine looked in his designs, they had never stopped. Before each season's new line even hit the shelves, Simon would receive the Windsor family's order backstage.
Juniper's eyes lit with sudden understanding.
"Catherine, you're a genius! You've mastered Quinn's style — most people could try for years and never come close."
Catherine's smile was faint, unreadable.
In the first conference hall, Catherine had changed into fresh clothes and found her seat. Plates of food appeared at her side almost immediately.
The Windsor family, concerned that she and Juniper might be hungry, had swept through the buffet to gather their favorite pastries before seeking them out.
When they heard she had gone to change, the family finally relaxed and clustered around, chatting in low, affectionate tones.
The hall was filled to capacity with industry heavyweights invited to the event.
The seat beside her dipped suddenly. A faint scent of cedar drifted into the air. Alexander unfastened the button of his impeccably tailored vintage suit and sat down next to her.
The moment he sat, he took her hand. The fatigue of endless days on the road seemed to dissolve the instant he saw her.
Catherine caught the shadowed hollows beneath his eyes and scolded softly, "You didn't have to rush like this. Are you trying to kill yourself?"
"I wanted to come back to you sooner."
He knew she was worried, and the corner of his mouth curved in a smile that was all warmth.
"Before, I always thought I should work a little longer, do a little more, because going home meant nothing. Now I just want to finish as fast as I can... because I want to go home sooner."
He didn't need to say why — or for whom.
Only after meeting Catherine had Alexander truly understood what it meant to be desperate to return home.
The lights in the hall shifted. The stage brightened, and the audience was momentarily cast in shadow. Alexander leaned toward her, drawing her into his arms.
Juniper's discreet cough came from nearby. Heat rushed to Catherine's ears, and she instinctively tried to pull away.
Alexander's hand pressed lightly against her waist, his voice a low murmur at her ear, "Don't move. There are plenty of eyes on us. Just let me hold you."
So he did know people were watching. But feeling the exhaustion in him, the unguarded trust, the fierce devotion, she couldn't bring herself to push him away.
The Windsor family was already used to their closeness. Let him hold her, then.
The stage lights blazed fully now. Franklin sat in his wheelchair, gaze sweeping the room with an air of absolute confidence.
"Over the years, I have conducted countless experiments, and these numbers are the result! The fact is, a vast portion of the human brain remains untapped!"
A researcher rose from the audience, frowning. "And the scientific validity of this data? How can you prove it's accurate?"
Franklin allowed himself a slow, confident smile.
"Because these numbers... come from the Galactic Aurora Collective Lab."
The name alone sent a ripple through the hall — a name known to almost everyone in the scientific world.
Franklin's eyes blazed with fervor. "I was the one who launched the first wave of the Galactic Aurora Collective Lab! That year, I came into contact with some of the greatest minds alive. I pushed their mental limits, and under the combined force of external stimuli and Inner Energy, I forged a generation of prodigies.
"These prodigies fought for survival with unimaginable effort. Every number you see here is real. My data is beyond question!"
From the audience, Dubhe let out a derisive laugh. "Mr. Morales, you conveniently forget to mention all the failures."
"They weren't failures," Franklin shot back. "They were sacrifices for science — like the body donors in medical schools, they deserve respect!"
Mercury rolled her eyes. "Like body donors? Please. Just say they're dead. Or worse — empty shells, their minds long gone, drifting like lost souls at the edge of the world."
Franklin's voice rose, his excitement spilling over. "You know nothing! This is art! This is the pinnacle of science! If I can restart the Galactic Aurora Collective, I will show the world my masterpieces!"
Alkaid rose, clapping slowly. "Fascinating, Mr. Morales. If I'm not mistaken, much of this data comes from the current Galactic Aurora Collective — Alioth's work, not yours."
"After I left, some files were no longer in my clearance. But I founded the Galactic Aurora Collective. The data should be shared."
Mars snapped, "Shameless as ever. Alioth's Galactic Aurora Collective is not yours to claim."
With a sharp snap of Franklin's fingers, the colossal screen behind him flared to life, spilling raw, unfiltered footage from the original lab.
Scalpels biting into flesh. Currents tearing through muscle. Syringes plunging heavy drugs deep into veins. Clear fluid dripping, drop by drop, into restrained arms. White light searing retinas, hammering the nervous system. Every cruelty devised to drag the human body—and mind—to the edge of collapse.
A wave of gasps rippled through the hall. They had heard the rumors, but never seen the truth. Not like this. Not so merciless.
Catherine rose with unhurried grace, her eyes locking onto Franklin's as if pinning him in place.
"I believe there are several points in Alioth's report worth challenging."
Her voice was cool, but carried clearly through the hall.
"First, the report was compiled later by Alioth. As the first leader of the Galactic Aurora Collective, you erased the data on the so-called 'failures' to cover the lab's misconduct.
"Second, the experimental data on human brain development was fabricated.
"Third, Alioth never authorized you to present this report. You are in violation."
Someone in the audience stood abruptly. "Ms. Windsor, you're not a scientist. Questioning Mr. Morales is one thing, but accusing Alioth's report of being flawed? You owe Alioth an apology."
"That's right. Alioth's precision is unmatched. There's no way they'd make such basic errors. You must apologize."
Catherine's laugh was soft, but her posture was unyielding, her eyes unwavering.
"An apology is impossible. Because… I am Alioth."
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