Chapter 185: Hostile Takeover

The empty chatter of the gala faded as the glass door to a private balcony closed behind them.

Julian Sterling walked to the edge of the balcony, with his hands held at his back. He looked down at the city’s endless lights, like a ruler watching over his kingdom.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Sterling said, his voice turning cold and heavy with power. The friendly mask he wore all night was gone. This was the real man. “Order. Progress. Efficiency. Everything that poor, foolish Dr. Thorne failed to truly understand..”

Jonah stood his ground. “You used him,” he said, the words a simple statement of fact.

“Used him?” Sterling turned away from the city view, smiling faintly with a touch of pity, as if Jonah said something childish and naive. “No. I invested in a promising startup company. I gave a brilliant but unstable artist the funding he needed to develop a proof of concept. And he succeeded, in his own messy way. He proved that his wild, impossible idea could actually work. But his methods… they were inefficient.”

He took a slow step closer to Jonah, and his cold, calculating eyes were watching him closely, as if he were a prize to be won. “You see, Jonah, Thorne was a scientist. He was a visionary, perhaps. But I am an industrialist. I am a businessman. I don’t care about the ’art’ of creation. I care about the results. I care about the product.

He stopped just a few feet away from Jonah. “And you, my boy,” he said, his voice dropping to a low tone. “You are the most valuable product I have ever seen.”

He pointed to the city below them. “I have acquired all of Dr. Thorne’s research. All of his assets. Everything he built, everything he learned from you and your blood, now belongs to me. It belongs to the Syndicate.”

He spread his hands, seeming generous but really threatening.

“I am offering you a position. Head of our new bio-weapons division. I will give you unlimited resources. Laboratories that would make the Academy’s workshops look like a child’s playroom. A team of the best minds in the world. Anything you want. All you have to do is what you do best: create.”

He moved closer, his voice low and cutting. “Thorne had a vision, but he lacked discipline. He was weak. We can offer you structure. Purpose. A chance to be a part of something that will truly change the world.”

Jonah listened, as a cold, hard anger started to form inside him. Sterling’s talk felt toxic, the opposite of what Jonah cared about. Jonah thought of creation as an art and a sacred bond. Sterling treated it like an assembly line to build profitable weapons.

“My answer is no,” Jonah said, his voice low but strong. “What you’re doing… it’s wrong. It’s a sickness. You talk about creation, but all you want to do is build slaves and sell them to the highest bidder.”

Sterling stared at him for a long time, without saying a word. The friendly look on his face was completely gone now.

“I see,” he said, his voice losing all its kindness. He looked disappointed, but not surprised. Like a man who offered a dog a steak, and the dog picked a dry bone instead.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Sterling said with a small sigh.

He turned his head a bit, his eyes looking at the dark areas in the corner of the balcony.

He then snapped his fingers.

A figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was a woman, putting on a black Syndicate uniform that fit her strong body well. Her face showed a calm and serious look. Her eyes were empty, focused, and merciless.

Jonah gasped. He could feel it. A light, cold copy of his own power, but in a new way. It was clean, Perfect and Stable.

“You see, Jonah,” Sterling said, his voice now a low, dangerous growl. “I have always believed in having a backup plan. Thorne’s method of using your… biological material… it was messy. Unreliable.”

The woman in the uniform raised her right hand.

And on the back of her hand, a symbol began to glow.

It was a God Mark.

But it was not like Jonah’s, which is a moving, natural pattern of nine headed golden beast. This one was a perfect, geometric shape. It was a neat and surgically-applied symbol that looked less like a mark of power and more like a logo burned to her soul.

“I decided to pursue a more… elegant solution,” Sterling said, with a note of pride in his voice.

The woman summoned a Progeny.

There was no roar or flash of light. A creature simply just appeared beside her. It was a panther-like beast made of real shadow and silver light. It was a beautiful, deadly, and a silent predator.

Jonah stared, his thoughts confused. He felt like the ground had swallowed him. He had been so focused on Thorne, on the idea of crude, monstrous copies. He had never imagined this.

A Weaver. A true, stable Weaver.

“Meet Silas,” Sterling said, with the proud tone of a man presenting his newest, most expensive product. “Our first successful prototype. We found her to be a much more… reliable asset.”

The unspoken threat stayed in the air for a moment, heavy and suffocating.

Join the team, or be replaced.

Jonah finally understood the true, scary scope of the Syndicate’s purpose. They didn’t just have Thorne’s stolen data. They had a working, perfected, and loyal Weaver of their own.

The fight had just become different. The stakes had been raised to an impossible new height. His unique power was not so unique as it seems. And his new rival was not a mad scientist

She was standing there in front of him, staring at him with her empty eyes. Her shadow panther was quiet and ready next to her, waiting for the order to begin the attack.

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