an imposing desk stood sentinel. Behind it, an enormous Window hung from floor to ceiling, its ornate frame a stark contrast to the utilitarian nature of the rest of the space.

  The machine that held Leonardo upright was a marvel of engineering and a horror to behold, crafted from a silvery metal that seemed to absorb the light around it rather than reflect it. It still working, extracting and imbuing what ever substance it had.

  Henri stood before this grim tableau, his fingers absently tracing the edge of a nearby control panel. The soft beeps and whirs of the life-support system created an eerie backdrop to their conversation. He turned to face Anna, his expression unreadable.

  "Your-" Henri started, then paused. His brow furrowed as he chose his words carefully, the lines on his face deepening. "I know you're not lying, baby, but how sure are you?"

  Anna's gaze flicked between her father and Leonardo's suspended form. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling noticeably as she steeled herself. "His story skill has tour guide practical officer, and I know it's weird, but he showed us his skills," she explained, her voice gaining confidence with each word.

  She moved closer to Leonardo, her hand hovering near one of the pulsing tubes that seemed to be both sustaining and consuming him. "His starter pack is the handbook of the tour guide."

  Henri's eyes narrowed, the skin around them crinkling as his mind clearly worked through the implications. He pushed off from the control panel and began to pace, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. Each step was measured, deliberate, as if he was physically working through his thoughts.

  "Which stage-" he said slowly, his voice measured. He paused mid-step, turning to face Anna fully. "It's easy to get a stage 5 skill because, in short, it's just the rarity. If you could be the head of a city, which is hard, obviously it automatically ranks you that high."

  He resumed his pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. "But if it's stater pack-based, stage 5 users are extremely rare." His emphasis on "extremely" hung in the air between them, the word seeming to echo in the cavernous room.

  Henri's gaze remained fixed on Anna, unwavering and intense. A smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn't his usual warm expression. This one was different—a superior version of the one Anna had used in the lounge when she had tried to pry into Leonardo's skin. It was an imitation, but Henri's version was... in short, scary.

  The smile lines around his mouth deepened, but there was no warmth in his eyes. They remained cold, calculating, as if he was dissecting every word and reaction from his daughter.

  Anna couldn't help but take a step back, a visible shiver running down her spine. Her body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing for flight. She bumped into the suspended form of Leonardo, the contact making her jump slightly. His body pulsed rhythmically behind her, the tubes continuing their relentless work of extracting and imbuing.

  Henri's eyes glinted in the dim light as he asked, "What's his attachment skill?" He ran his hand along the edge of his desk, the action casual but his intent clear—he was trying to gauge Leonardo's ability.

  His fingers traced the intricate patterns carved into the wood, a stark contrast to the clinical machinery surrounding them.

  "A story skill of stage 5 is rare. Maybe none of the heirs or guides have this. It automatically puts him- no Us, ahead."

  Anna swallowed hard, her throat bobbing visibly before she responded. "It's adaptive evolution, I think. It-"

  "Adapts to physical and mental attacks, no?" Henri interjected, his voice sharp. He picked up a small ornament from his desk, turning it over in his hands as he spoke. The object caught the light, sending small reflections dancing across the walls. "Have you done anything to see how far it goes?"

  Anna nodded, her eyes tracking the ornament in her father's hands. "I pierced his arm with Elara's attachment skill."

  Henri's fingers stilled on the ornament, his knuckles whitening slightly as his grip tightened. "She saw it?" he asked instantly, his tone carrying a hint of concern.

  "Yes, she did, but it's alright," Anna hastened to explain, her words tumbling out quickly. "It gave him minor reduced density to pain."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Henri set the ornament down with deliberate care, the soft clink as it touched the desk surface seeming unnaturally loud in the tense atmosphere. "Minor is in all of it?" he asked slowly, his gaze boring into Anna.

  "Yes," Anna replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable under her father's intense scrutiny.

  Henri nodded, his expression thoughtful. He moved towards the large glass window behind his desk, his reflection ghostly in the polished surface. "It's obvious an adept shouldn't be that strong, but adaptation should be obvious. Don't tell anyone his story skill," he advised, his voice low and urgent. "Unlike yours that could mean anything, his is already set, per se. If they know it, they can counter your defense. Other than that, he's a good defense-"

  "He has a title skill," Anna interrupted, her words tumbling out before she could stop them. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if trying to physically hold back the revelation.

  Henri whirled around, his face a mask of disbelief. The sudden movement caused his coat to flare out dramatically. "What, knight? That wouldn't be very useful," he said, his tone skeptical.

  "Champion," Anna replied, her voice steadier now. She stood straighter, as if the word itself gave her strength.

  Henri's eyebrows shot up, his forehead creasing with surprise. "I've never heard of him," he said instantly, moving back towards his desk with quick strides. His hand reached out, fingers splaying across the polished surface as if to steady himself.

  "Neither have I," Anna admitted slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. The fabric twisted and untwisted in her nervous grasp.

  Henri's gaze hardened as he leaned forward, his palms flat on the desk's surface. "What is it?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.

  Anna took a deep breath, her chest visibly expanding as she gathered her courage. "Uninvited guest, it-" she began, but Henri cut her off with a wave of his hand.

  "It's alright, I shouldn't know that much," he said, straightening up. He moved back towards the window, his reflection overlapping with the suspended form of Leonardo in the glass. "Your mom told me why he jumped."

  Anna's brow furrowed in confusion, "What, was he scared? I did tell him not to go there," she said slowly, her eyes following her father's movements.

  Henri's gaze remained fixed on Leonardo's reflection in the glass. "He lied to her about my death," he said, his voice unnaturally calm. His fingers traced invisible patterns on the cool surface of the window.

  Anna felt a pang of guilt, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, he apologized at least," she offered weakly.

  Henri turned back to face her, his expression unreadable. "You're right, but then again, he is dead right now."

  The word hung in the air between them, heavy and oppressive. "Dead," Anna repeated, the reality of the situation hitting her anew. Her eyes widened, darting back to Leonardo's suspended form.

  Henri began to walk past her, his footsteps measured and purposeful. "So he is in the highest susceptible state to the ascension trials," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

  As soon as those words left his mouth, Anna spun around, her brown hair whipping through the air with the sudden movement. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated with shock. "It cant work, I mean he'll die..." She paused, her mouth working silently as she struggled to gather her thoughts. "A second time, right? He can't do it."

  Henri's pace slowed as he approached Leonardo's suspended form.

  He stood before it, his gaze traveling over the complex network of tubes and wires.

  "Trials. Given authority by God. To the 'The Dwellers in the Void.'," he said, his voice low, as if unwilling to even utter their name, their folklore name anyway. His hand reached out, hovering just above one of the pulsing tubes. "And when is someone more susceptible to this?"

  "Death," Anna whispered, the word barely audible over the hum of the machines. She hugged herself, as if suddenly cold in the sterile room.

  Henri nodded, his expression softening slightly. He turned to face Anna, his eyes meeting hers. "But don't fret," he continued, his tone becoming more reassuring. "I don't think they'll go after someone like him. His title skill seems to be given to him by the tour guide, and that means he did something unimaginable to receive a champion stage title."

  He turned abruptly, walking towards the door with purposeful strides. His hand reached for the ornate handle, fingers curling around the cool metal. "Anyway, time to go to the Grand Bibliotheca," he announced.

  Anna cast one last glance at Leonardo, his body still and silent amidst the whirring machinery. "Leonardo," she murmured, her voice tinged with worry. Her hand reached out, as if to touch him, but stopped short, falling back to her side.

  Henri paused at the door, looking back at his daughter. His expression softened, a hint of his usual warmth returning to his eyes. "Fate will tell his demise or resurrection," he said, his tone suddenly cheery. The abrupt change in his demeanor was almost jarring. "You have a year, that's already ticking. Let's go study!"

  Anna nodded numbly, her feet seeming to move of their own accord as she followed her father towards the door. "Yeah, study," she replied, her voice almost sullen. Her shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything they had discussed seeming to physically press down on her.

  As they left the room, the machine continued its relentless work. The soft beeps and whirs echoed in the now-empty chamber, a constant reminder of the precarious thread of life it was maintaining. The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving Leonardo alone in the vast space, suspended between life and death,

  The silence that fell over the room was broken only by the rhythmic sounds of the life-support system, each beep and whir a testament to the fragile nature of existence.