His mind shifted to the Ceroks, their inheritance carved into his memory. Among the countless things he had absorbed from them, there were fragments of advanced biomechanical constructs, capable of autonomous behavior. The Ceroks had used these for surveillance, reconnaissance, and information gathering in hostile territories.
He began by gathering materials from his storage, metal filaments, power source and some insect samples he had preserved from previous experimentation.
First, he crafted the exoskeleton. He took a thin metal plate and use the Architect's ability to subtly restructure it. The metal responded, compressing and folding under his will, becoming thinner and more flexible while retaining strength. He then combined the exoskeleton with the insect and coded some instructions.
The next step was the power source. He had a micro-energy cell capable of drawing power from ambient kinetic energy, this was not Ceroks creation but a creation of Elves. He then carved the circuits into appropriate places directing the power properly into required places, and connecting the insect's senses to the transmitter.
The insect was almost complete.
Now came the first test. Ian placed the biomechanical creature on the table and gently activated the energy core. The insect was already dead but now its tiny legs twitched, and the wings flickered erratically before stabilizing.
Then after adjusting the frequency of the transmitter to match his communication device he was able to get all the sensory information from it.
Ian grinned. It worked. Luckily it worked on the first try, this happens very rarely.
"You'll be my observer," Ian murmured. He sent few instruction using his communication device then the creature took off, wings buzzing softly as it vanished into the air.
A few days had passed, and Ian had been tirelessly monitoring Enira and Eryndor through the insect. The small biomechanical creature perched itself in different vantage points, on beams, shelves, or within cracks in the wall, feeding Ian a steady stream of audio and visual input. Ian often sat quietly in his room, watching the feed, observing their shop day after day. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just a small shop running its usual business. But soon, Ian began noticing something off about the worker, Hamon.
The man, was unnervingly obedient. Every command from Enira was followed without hesitation, his body moving with a rigid efficiency. It wasn't noticeable at first, but Ian observed that Hamon never showed any subtle hesitation or independent thought. His movements were stiff, almost mechanical, and his gaze, when not directly spoken to, was unnervingly vacant. It was as if his will had been entirely eroded, and he existed solely as a vessel for Enira's commands. Ian began to wonder - was he simply charmed, or was something far darker at play?
Eryndor, on the other hand, was different. Ian managed to get a better look at him. The elven man stood tall, his features sharp and chiseled like the marble sculptures of old. His hair revealed itself to be a rough cascade of silvered strands, as if untouched by age but weathered by the road.
Ian had tried following them back to their home once. However, he quickly realized that getting too close was not possible. There was some kind of field around their house. Fearing discovery, he kept the insect at a distance and continued his observation from a safer range.
And soon a week passed, and Ian's still has no important information on them. Enira, with her gentle demeanor, had begun inching closer to Myrra. Ian had watched as their interactions grew more frequent. They would often meet in the market, striking up casual conversations, then a shared meal, and soon Myrra had invited Enira over for a tea at Ian's house. Enira was now inside his house, called by Myrra herself.
Despite appearing friendly, she was too smooth, too perfect. She was closer in age to Oryn, older than Ian or Myrra, and she carried a disarming charm. Ian could see it, the subtle manipulation. The casual touch on Myrra's arm, the slight tilt of her head when she spoke, the perfectly crafted statements that nudged Myrra's thoughts in certain directions.
Ian regretted not warning Myrra earlier, not that he had anything solid to warn her about. Just vague unease and suspicion, nothing concrete. But now, watching them together, he couldn't shake the feeling that Enira was steadily embedding herself in their lives.
He has to go deep and possibly take thing in his own hands.
One day, late into the night, Ian received a sudden alert from the insect.
Frowning, Ian quickly tapped into its feed. It was dark, but he could see them, Enira, Eryndor, and Hamon, quietly slipping out of their home under the cover of night. They moved carefully, avoiding the main streets, and soon entered a vehicle waiting in a secluded alley. Ian adjusted the insect's position to listen in.
"...it better not be empty this time," Enira muttered, irritation clear in her voice. She climbed into the vehicle, her gaze hard. "I'm not walking through another goddamn cave just to find nothing again."
Eryndor, settling beside her, sighed. "It won't be." His tone was quieter, almost hesitant. "And even if it is… if we stumble upon something unrelated but worthwhile -" he hesitated, "the Quiet Testament will be pleased. That alone is worth the effort."
Ian froze. The Quiet Testament.
A cold chill crept up his spine. No. This was the name he did not want to hear. If they were connected to The Quiet Testament, then their sudden closeness with Myrra, their persistent approach, the subtle manipulation, it all made sense now.
Ian now had clarity, and he knew he couldn't afford to ignore it. If The Quiet Testament was involved, Myrra was already in far greater danger than he had anticipated. There was no more hesitation. Ian was confident he could take the three of them if it came to a confrontation, and if it meant protecting Myrra, he would do it.
Moving swiftly, Ian gathered his gear and set out on foot. He chose not to follow directly by road; instead, he cut through smaller paths and clearings, allowing the insect to guide him through their route.
The insect kept relaying data, their vehicle took them towards the directions of ruins in the forest. Ian quickened his pace.
After about an half-an-hour of, the insect relayed new information, they had entered a mountain-side cave, one that was partially hidden behind dense foliage and weathered rock.
Through the insect's eyes, he watched as they ventured deeper into the cave. The walls were lined with strange, worn-out carvings and symbols, ancient and incomprehensible. Some looked geometric, others spiraled into unsettling shapes. Eryndor seemed fixated, running his fingers across the symbols as if trying to decipher them, while Enira looked visibly annoyed.
The spent few hours examining the cave which allowed Ian enough time to catch up and watch them from distance.
"This is it?" Enira's voice, sharp with disbelief, broke the silence.
Eryndor hesitated. "The old man was certain… He said this caves would contain traces of it. I paid him a fortune -"
"A fortune?" Enira spun around, her anger flaring. "You dragged me out of bed, made me travel in the middle of the night, and now you're telling me you paid a fortune for this?" She gestured to the empty, lifeless chamber around them.
"It's not my fault! The information was credible-"
"Credible my ass!" Enira snapped. "We've been digging through trash for months and now we're chasing ghost stories."
Eryndor turned defensive. "I had no way of confirming-"
"And what now, huh? We keep poking around empty caves until you waste all our resources?" Her voice was harsh, and Ian could sense the strain between them.
Hamon, as always, said nothing, simply standing a few paces behind Enira, his face vacant, almost doll-like. Ian watched carefully. Strange. Always in shadow.
Eryndor sighed heavily, visibly deflated. "I'll be careful next time..."
Ian didn't have time to waste. While they were distracted, he moved into position, scouting a suitable spot ahead of the cave entrance. His plan was clear: cut off their exit, disorient them, and systematically take them down. Moving swiftly, Ian began setting up his traps, embedded pressure points in the loose ground, stones pre-configured to collapse, and binding materials ready to reassemble at a moment's command. All he needed was for them to step out.
The moment came.
As Enira, Eryndor, and Hamon stepped out of the cave, Ian triggered it. Hidden pressure points beneath loose stones collapsed, creating sudden bursts of thick smoke around them. Eryndor stumbled, coughing. Ian didn't hesitate.
His body moved. With a snap of his fingers, the ground around him disassembled, loose stone and dirt ripped themselves from the terrain, swirling around his arm. In a heartbeat, the materials assembled into a dense stick in his hand. Ian lunged.
Eryndor barely had time to register the incoming threat before Ian crashed into him like a force of nature. The stick drove straight towards his head, but at the last moment, Eryndor deflected it by conjuring an energy shield. Ian didn't stop. His superior physique kicked in, and while Eryndor was distracted, his other fist drove into Eryndor's ribs, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into the cave wall.
"Ghhhk!" Eryndor gasped, blood spurting from his mouth. Ian didn't wait. He disassembled the remaining loose mud into a blunt force construct and slammed it into his head. Eryndor crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Ian turned, just as Enira moved.
Her hand flared with power. Ian felt it, an invisible force that slammed into his torso, designed to crush his bones. But Ian was already moving. His superior strength let him absorb the blow, his feet digging into the ground. Without hesitation, he took a step and boom, the nearby ground burst with power. He surged forward, faster than she could react.
"You..." Enira's voice was seething. She flung another attack, a sharp kinetic burst aimed at his chest. Ian reacted instantly, he dodged the attack. Then, his cloak, made of special material, reconfigured itself into strips and shot forward.
Enira threw up her arm to defend, the strips caught her wrist mid-air, twisted it, and then wrapped around both her arms. Ian arrived like a thunderbolt. His knee slammed into her abdomen. "Ghk!" Enira coughed blood. Without mercy, Ian pivoted and drove his elbow into the side of her head. She crumpled, staggering.
A sudden unnatural choking sound erupted behind him.
Ian froze. "What.."
Hamon… changed.
The once-expressionless man twitched unnaturally. His jaw dislocated, his eyes rolling white. Then from his mouth, nostrils, and eye sockets, thick blue tendrils erupted. Flesh ripped apart. The tendrils surged in every direction like a grotesque mass of writhing flesh. Hamon's body jerked, his limbs no longer human, joints twisting in horrifying angles as the tendrils moved him.