Lucian tested it again, stepping inside deliberately.
The suppression returned instantly.
Not malicious. Not aggressive.
Absolute.
Stephen's hand hovered near his blade.
"Milord, this place is unnatural."
His voice carried controlled caution. In his youth, he had once encountered an underground ruin guarded by ancient formations that pressed against the soul. The sensation here felt eerily similar, though far more refined.
Before he could suggest withdrawal, footsteps approached.
Zion appeared from within, carrying a tray of neatly arranged pistols to a shelf. His movements remained fluid and precise, expression unchanged.
He stopped several paces away and bowed slightly.
"Welcome to Nexus."
Lucian studied him without blinking.
The last time he saw this figure, his sword had severed a four-star spy with surgical indifference.
Now he stood as a polite shop attendant.
"Your master is inside?" He asked calmly.
