Chapter 81: Surrounded by Conspiracies

He hadn’t moved since the briefing began. Quietly seated on a bench against the wall, Marn Sevil remained almost invisible—but never inactive.

He had watched Evelyn speak with a mix of authority and calm. He had seen how she held this improvised family together—not through dominance, but through presence alone.

He had watched Vykhor—the infamous Kael’tarian, silent and stoic—listen to her. Even when barking orders or grinding his teeth, Evelyn’s voice always seemed to soften the tension. A word, a glance, a note—and the air shifted.

And Blue… that strange feline. Sevil could feel it. The creature didn’t move much, curled up near the wall, eyes half-lidded—but nothing escaped him. Blue wasn’t just a pet. He was a sentinel.

A pack.

But not one built on blood or rank.

A pack built on instinct. On choice. On loyalty earned through action, not command.

Marn slowly turned his gaze back to Evelyn.

There was no analysis in his expression anymore.

Nothing left of the cold Voldarian he had been under the Master’s command.

No fondness, either—not quite.

But a new understanding. A budding admiration, touched with concern. And maybe… a flicker of regret.

Vykhor, who never stopped watching from the corner of his eye, caught the change.

He didn’t move.

But his amber eyes narrowed slightly.

He understands now. Finally. Doesn’t mean I trust him.

Vykhor stepped closer to Evelyn, placed his hand on the small of her back in a silent show of authority, and gently turned her toward him.

“It’s over for tonight. We need rest.”

Evelyn nodded. But as she turned, her gaze met Sevil’s.

And for the first time since he’d boarded the ship, he acknowledged her.

A simple tilt of the head.

Not submission.

Not reverence.

But the beginning… of a shift.

**Somewhere in the Galactic Shadows — The Master**

Holograms spun in spirals around the obsidian throne.

Images. Sounds. Biometric scans.

Evelyn Ashcroft.

Always her.

The Master stroked the armrest of his seat, his eyes scanning the latest reports. The Hadrell-7 mission was already dissected. His face remained unreadable—but the subtle clench of his jaw did not go unnoticed by the silent figures standing around him.

“She grows. She adapts. She bonds. She strengthens…”

His lips thinned.

“But…”

Marn Sevil’s face appeared in one of the floating displays, caught by a hidden surveillance feed.

The Master leaned forward.

“Him.” The word was a hiss. A chill. “I forgot him.”

Then came the smile.

Cold. Sharp.

“He’s holding up. The implant’s working. But I won’t tolerate weakness.”

A word too many. A twitch of guilt. A look betraying what he knows—and the device will detonate. Quietly. Cleanly. Erasing the problem.

But that wasn’t what truly concerned him.

It was Vykhor Kael’seth.

More precisely… the way Evelyn was changing him.

And that hadn’t been in the calculations.

Not like this.

**At the edge of a forgotten system — Griffin**

The old Exotherian monitored the same data feeds from a hidden station buried in a rusted cargo hull.

He didn’t steal them.

He intercepted them better than anyone else alive.

And as he observed the Kael’seth pack evolve, a restrained pride flickered in his chest.

“Well done, Evelyn,” he whispered, fingers ghosting over an interface. “You’re even changing a Kael’tarian. With a smile like that, you could’ve toppled the Senate.”

But now it was Marn Sevil who drew his attention.

Griffin sighed.

“The Master left his mark on you. I can see the energy pattern. I recognize the signature.”

His expression darkened.

“You can’t speak. You can’t warn Evelyn. And you think you’ll die if you try.”

A beat.

“You’re not wrong.”

He began typing.

***Priority Message — Griffin Protocol 7 — Recipient: Evelyn Ashcroft***

Evelyn,
If you're reading this, it means I found a secure window to reach you without alerting the Master.
Marn Sevil has been marked. A biological device was implanted in his system—silent but lethal. He can’t speak. Not because he won’t, but because he’ll die if he tries. That’s no metaphor. It’s a biochemical certainty.
He worked briefly for the man behind Project Ashcroft. He doesn’t know his name or face, but he knows what he wants.
Marn didn’t run. He didn’t betray. He survived. And now, he watches you with the same fear I once did—the fear of seeing a mind like yours fall into the wrong hands.
You are their miracle, Evelyn. Their masterpiece. But you are not their property. And he… he wants to make sure you stay free.
You can’t rely on his words.
But you can rely on his actions.
Don’t push him away. He’s more like you than you realize.
—A.

Griffin sealed the message, encrypted it with quantum signatures, and buried it in an invisible network, waiting for the right moment.

Then he closed his eyes.

“I’ve got you covered, Evelyn. Always.”

**Aboard the Narak’Tharr — Marn Sevil**

The cabin was cold.

Not in temperature. In isolation.

Marn Sevil stared at his reflection in the narrow window. His face was unreadable.

But his mind…

His mind was screaming.

He wanted to speak. To explain. To beg—

But every time he approached a coherent thought of confession, a bolt of pain ripped through his chest. Sharp and silent. A neural lockdown screaming at his cells to shut up.

Say a word, and you die.
Say a word, and she dies.

He had seen Evelyn laugh with Zeynn. He had seen Blue rest his head on her knee. He had seen Vykhor, even him, soften under her presence.

And himself—he saw a silent traitor standing on the edge of detonation.

I’m a pressure bomb, he thought bitterly. And the Master has the trigger.

But he’d hold.

He had to hold.

For her.

Maybe… for the man he used to be before he served the monster.

**Bridge — Narak’Tharr**

The ship’s core hummed through the walls, steady and strong. On the command deck, the lights dimmed to a soft blue as interstellar jump preparations began. Routine for a ship of this class—except nothing was ever routine aboard the Narak’Tharr.

Vykhor stood beside Kryna, silent.

Zeynn munched a ration bar, eyes fixed on the stars.

Blue lay at Evelyn’s feet, calm but alert.

“Ready for jump, Captain Kael’seth,” Kryna announced.

“Shift gravimetric stabilization to the secondary core,” Vykhor replied.

“Coordinates locked,” Evelyn added. “Jump in five, four, three…”

At the exact moment the ship dissolved from realspace, a tiny signal detached from the hull—hidden within the metallic shell of Sevil’s data case.

**Elsewhere…**

A blinking red light lit up on a forgotten console. A man behind mirrored lenses didn’t smile. He only nodded.

“Target in motion. Jump initiated.”

A hooded figure nearby tilted their head.

“Good. Stay back. No contact yet. I want to see them deliver Sevil… before we strike.”

Then, softly:

“And I want to see if this Kael’seth truly lives up to the legend.”

**Griffin — Helaris System Fringe**

The encrypted relay blinked.

Griffin leaned forward, frowning.

“That’s too soon for one of the Master’s calls…”

Then he saw the trace. Subtle. Human. A stealth beacon—and the Narak’Tharr’s jump signature.

He inhaled.

“They’ve been tagged…”

His fingers flew across the console, launching a decoy signal. An EM ping designed to mimic a divergent jump path.

A false trail.

An ambush for the ambushers.

And in his chest, a vow:

I won’t lose you. Not you.