OP Absorption

Fin walked towards the massive stone doors. Arachne moved with him. Her hands were held loosely at her sides, but her entire body was coiled with readiness.

He stopped a few paces from the doors. The silence returned, heavy, expectant.

"Who's out there?" Fin called out. His voice echoed slightly in the hall.

A voice answered from the other side of the stone doors. It was female, calm, resonant, with a musical quality that seemed to vibrate in the very stone.

"A traveler. Seeking shelter. And perhaps, a conversation with the new master of this… interesting domain."

Fin frowned. Traveler? Master of the domain? How did they know? How did they find this place without triggering the wards?

"Identify yourself," Arachne called out. Her voice was sharp, challenging.

A soft chuckle answered from beyond the doors. "Names are such fleeting things, my dear. But you may call me… Lyra."

Fin felt a prickle of unease. Lyra. The name meant nothing to him. But the way she spoke, the calm confidence, the fact that she was standing outside his sealed domain ringing a non-existent doorbell… this was not normal. This was not an Association assassin or a rival King's scout. This was something else.

He looked at Arachne. She met his gaze. Her eyes were narrowed. "Her energy signature is… strange," Arachne murmured, so low only Fin could hear. "Powerful. But not aggressive. Shielded. I cannot get a clear reading."

"Open it," Fin said quietly.

Arachne hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. She stepped towards the doors. She placed her hands flat against the cold stone. The massive slabs, which usually only opened to Fin's will or a forced portal, ground slowly inwards. They revealed the swirling, nebula-like void that formed the 'outside' of his domain.

Standing on the threshold, framed against the shifting cosmic colors, was a woman.

She was tall, slender, with long, silver hair that seemed to capture and refract the strange light of the void. She wore simple, flowing robes of a deep indigo color, embroidered with intricate silver patterns that looked like constellations. Her features were delicate, ageless. Her eyes were a startling shade of violet. They held an ancient, knowing amusement. In one hand, she held a small, silver bell, the source of the chime.

She smiled, a serene, enigmatic expression. "May I come in?" she asked. Her voice was as melodic as the bell.

Fin stared at her. He felt no immediate threat from her, no killing intent. But the sheer depth of power radiating from her, subtle but immense, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was strong. Far stronger than Jericho, stronger even than Dan before his armor had been stripped. Possibly stronger than anyone he had met.

"Who are you?" Fin asked again. His voice was flat, wary.

Lyra's smile widened slightly. She took a step forward, into the main hall. The stone doors ground shut behind her with a soft thud. The air in the hall seemed to shift subtly with her presence. It grew calmer, yet somehow more… charged.

"I am a seeker of knowledge," she said. Her violet eyes swept around the vast hall, taking in the stone architecture, the shadowed archways. "A chronicler of changes. And you, Fin Carver, are a rather significant change."

She knew his name.

Arachne moved silently. She positioned herself slightly behind and to the side of Fin, a silent guardian.

"How do you know my name?" Fin pressed. "How did you find this place?"

Lyra chuckled, a sound like wind chimes. "The threads of fate are easily read, if one knows how to look. Your… ascension… created quite a ripple. And as for finding this little haven?" She gestured vaguely with the hand holding the silver bell. "Some doors are more easily opened than others, especially for those who know the music."

She took another step closer, stopping a respectful distance away. Her violet eyes fixed on him, not with threat, but with an intense, analytical curiosity. "I've come to offer you a choice. Or perhaps, merely to observe which choice you will inevitably make."

Fin's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of the sword he still wore from his earlier training. "What choice?"

Lyra's smile remained. "The choice that all new powers face, young King. To build, or to burn. To rule, or to be devoured." She tilted her head. Her silver hair shimmered. "The Association believes you are a wildfire to be extinguished. Some of your… neighbors… see you as a potential threat, or a pawn. I," she paused, her gaze piercing, "am merely curious to see which path you will carve through the tapestry."

"And what if I don't want to play your game?" Fin countered, his voice cold.

"Oh, but you are already playing," Lyra replied softly. "You began the moment you claimed this domain, the moment you struck out at your enemies. The game is ancient, and its rules are unforgiving." Her eyes flicked towards Arachne, then back to Fin. "You have pieces on the board. You have made your opening moves. The question now is, do you understand the stakes?"

Fin felt a surge of annoyance. He was tired of cryptic pronouncements, of people speaking in riddles about Kings and games. "Get to the point," he said, his patience wearing thin. "What do you want?"

Lyra's smile did not falter. "Information, young King. And perhaps, an alliance, should our interests align." She gestured towards one of the stone benches. "May we sit? This promises to be a long conversation."

Fin looked at Arachne. She gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Trust was a rare commodity, and this silver-haired woman radiated mystery and power in equal measure. But she had not attacked. And she seemed to know things. Things that might be useful.

"Talk," Fin said, remaining standing. "But make it quick. I have a busy schedule of not being devoured."

Lyra's violet eyes held a hint of amusement at his brusque command. She did not move towards the bench, respecting his implicit refusal to lower his guard.

"Very well," she said. Her voice retained its melodic calm. "Let us dispense with pleasantries. You are Fin Carver. You possess a Mana Cell of Abyssal origin, accidentally integrated. You have claimed a nascent domain, a feat unheard of for one so… uninitiated. You have made enemies of the Valerius Association, a regional power of some influence. And you have drawn the attention of at least one established King, Kain, whose First Blade you apparently… dispatched."

Fin's expression remained impassive, but inside, his mind raced. She knew everything. Or at least, far more than she should. The Mana Cell, Kain, even the term 'nascent domain'. This was not just good intelligence; this was knowledge on a different level.

Arachne shifted her weight almost imperceptibly. Her gaze was fixed on Lyra, calculating, wary.

"You seem well informed," Fin stated, his voice flat.

"It is my purpose to be so," Lyra replied. "I am a Loremaster of the Argent Covenant. We observe. We record. We occasionally… advise, when the currents of fate become particularly turbulent." She smiled faintly. "Your emergence, Fin Carver, is a Class Seven Turbulence. At minimum."

Loremaster. Argent Covenant. More unfamiliar terms. Fin filed them away. "And what 'advice' do you have for this… turbulence?"

Lyra tilted her head. "That depends on your intentions. Your strike against the Arclight trackers was crude but effective. A statement. Your impending assault on the Valerius Spire…" She paused, her violet eyes searching his. "That is a far bolder move. Potentially catastrophic, for you and for them. Is it vengeance, young King? A desperate bid for survival? Or do you have a grander design?"

Fin did not answer immediately. Grand design? His only design was to stop being hunted, to protect Meg, to carve out a space where they could be safe. If that meant dismantling the Association brick by brick, so be it. If it meant confronting Kings… he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

"They started it," he said finally. The words were simple, cold.

Lyra nodded slowly. "They often do. Power abhors a vacuum, and new power is always seen as a threat by the established. The Association, for all its talk of order, is merely another player seeking to maintain its dominance." She took a small, deliberate step closer. "But Valerius is not Arclight. The Spire is the heart of their network. They will defend it fiercely. Director Gabriel is not a man to be trifled with, and he has… resources."

"I'm aware," Fin said. Mara's fear had been genuine. Gabriel, Unit 7… he was not underestimating the opposition.

"Are you?" Lyra's gaze sharpened. "Do you know that your domain, while potent for one so new, is still vulnerable? Its energetic signature, though masked, is a beacon to those with the right senses. Your wards are rudimentary. A determined assault by a prepared force…" She let the implication hang.

"Jericho found me," Fin conceded. "He got in."

"Ah, yes. Operative Jericho." A flicker of something unreadable crossed Lyra's face. "A blunt instrument, but effective in his own way. His… absence… will have been noted. It will have escalated their response." She smiled again, a thin, knowing curve of her lips. "Director Gabriel has likely already unleashed far more dangerous hounds."

Fin felt a chill despite himself. More dangerous than Jericho? More dangerous than Dan?

"You said you came to offer a choice," he reminded her, pushing past the unease. "Or an alliance."

"Indeed." Lyra's expression became serious. "The Argent Covenant rarely intervenes directly. Our purpose is to preserve knowledge, to maintain a semblance of balance, however precarious, between the myriad powers that vie for control across the realms." She paused. "Your existence, your unique fusion with the Mana Cell, your nascent dominion… it presents both a threat and an opportunity to that balance."

"A threat to who?"

"To those who fear change," Lyra said. "To those whose power is built on the old order. The Association. Certain established Kings who see your domain as unclaimed territory, ripe for conquest. Should you fall, the Mana Cell within you could be weaponized, or become a catalyst for even greater instability."

"And the opportunity?" Fin pressed.

"A new power, untethered by old allegiances, old feuds," Lyra replied. "A potential counterweight. Or, perhaps, merely a new catalyst for a different kind of change." Her violet eyes held his. "The Covenant is prepared to offer you assistance, Fin Carver. Information. Resources. Perhaps even sanctuary, should the need arise."