CHAPTER 72
ARIA
I couldn’t shake the cold that had settled in my bones.
My hands were still trembling from the conference, from the helplessness that had clawed at my chest when Lian had so calmly agreed to meet Dr. Evers.
I had tried to stop him, begged him to reconsider, warned him about the monster he was about to face—but it had been useless.
His polite, unreadable calm had crushed my words like fragile paper.
All I could do now was try to find out where they had gone.
I turned to Mark first, my voice low and urgent.
“Do you know where they went? The meeting—Professor Lian and Dr Evers?”
He stood a few feet away, brow furrowed, eyes narrowing.
“Why would you want to know that? Hey… what’s going on with you today? You… you seem a little obsessed with Professor Lian. Got a crush or something?” he teased, a half-smile tugging at his lips.
“No… I mean—” I said sharply, voice low and tense.
“I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t… important.”
Mark’s frown deepened, but he didn’t press. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, the unease at my tone.
I didn’t have the energy to explain, couldn’t risk revealing even a hint of what I truly knew—or suspected.
“Just… please, can you help me find out?” I added, my voice softer now, edged with desperation despite my embarrassment.
He hesitated, glancing down at his notes as if weighing his options, then finally nodded.
“Alright… I’ll see what I can dig up.”
I let out a small breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding, relief mingling with the knot of worry still coiling in my chest.
Even if he couldn’t tell me everything, at least he’d try.
But by the time I hurried toward the location, the night had swallowed the streets in shadows, and my urgency collided with a new, almost physical barrier: the club itself.
A sleek, modern building that exuded wealth and exclusivity, its entrance lined with polished black cars and sharply dressed doormen.
I swallowed hard, hoping for a miracle, but as I approached, the man at the door shook his head.
“Members only,” he said.
My stomach sank.
Of course.
High-end private club.
Why would it be easy?
I stayed across the street, pressed into the shadows behind a lamppost, trying to keep out of sight. My eyes never left the club’s entrance, my breath fogging in the icy air.
I pressed my hands against myself, trying to trap what little warmth I had left, heart hammering in my chest.
Each time the doors opened, my stomach jumped, hoping, praying, that it would be him.
But every figure that stepped out, no matter how unfamiliar, made my chest tighten—hope and dread twisting together so sharply I could barely breathe.
My mind raced—what if something had already happened?
What if Lian—had already walked straight into Dr. Evers’ trap?
I couldn’t stand still.
My feet fidgeted, my eyes flicking between the street and the entrance, every car that pulled up making my heart leap.
Time crawled.
Then, finally, the doors opened, and figures emerged into the cool night.
My breath caught.
Lian.
He walked out with Dr. Evers, their steps side by side, voices low but seemingly amiable.
Lian’s posture was perfectly composed, his expression calm, unreadable—but his face… the resemblance was staggering.
I froze, my stomach twisting in confusion and fear.
How could someone with his face, his warmth, his very presence, possibly speak to that man like nothing had ever happened?
Like they were peers discussing mundane matters instead of someone who had once been tormented beyond belief?
My chest felt as if it had been hollowed out and filled with ice.
They parted ways after a few minutes, shaking hands as if it had been a pleasant dinner, nothing more.
Lian walked away with his usual quiet dignity, and Dr Evers disappeared down the street in the other direction.
I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe properly.
Part of me wanted to run after him, grab him, and scream that this wasn’t normal—that nothing about this should be normal.
But I also couldn’t comprehend what I’d just seen.
Then a sudden shadow loomed over me, and my body stiffened, every nerve screaming.
A low, measured voice cut through the night air.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
I froze, every instinct screaming danger, and slowly turned.
He was there.
Dr. Evers.
“You…” I began, voice shaking, trying to keep myself upright, trying not to let my panic show.
“Yes,” he said smoothly.
He regarded me with a calm, almost clinical curiosity, as if I were nothing more than an object under his scrutiny.
"I couldn’t help noticing,” he said smoothly,
“...how much Professor Lian resembles… that creature.”
My stomach dropped.
Every nerve in my body screamed, a cold spike of fear shooting through me.
“That creature?” I whispered, my chest tightening, breath catching.
“That creature had a name—”
“…Yes, he did,” Dr. Evers said, his tone smooth but edged with a cruel satisfaction, like he was savouring her shock. His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and unyielding.
“…and amusing, isn’t it? How even the name… matches. Perfectly. Almost poetic, don’t you think?”
I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
My hands clenched tightly in front of me, nails digging into my palms, trying to ground myself, trying to fight the surge of emotions twisting inside me.
“And I must thank you.”
I blinked, confused, heart hammering. I forced myself to look back at him.
“Thank me? For what?”
Dr. Evers’ smile widened slightly.
“You see… if you hadn’t interfered,” he said, his voice calm, almost polite, but each word cut sharper than any knife.
“If you hadn’t fallen from that building… forcing him to fly after you, to save you…”
His gaze held mine, unblinking, sharp, unyielding, as if he could see every flicker of fear, shock, and guilt racing across my face.
“…I would never have been able to take possession of him. I wouldn’t have had the chance to study him, dissect him, and ultimately develop the special medicine that is now revolutionising cellular repair and extending life.”
My stomach lurched, bile rising as my hands trembled at my sides.
“You—you monstrosity! How dare you—how dare you call that… that torture science?!” I snapped, my voice sharp, trembling with disbelief and fury.
“Do you even hear yourself? You dissected him—used him as a means to an end—and you dare to speak of medicine and progress? You didn’t save anyone. You destroyed everything that made him… him!”
I staggered back a step, my hands clenching at my sides.
“You… you monster!” I spat, my voice trembling with fury and disbelief.
My chest heaved, tears pricking my eyes despite myself. Rage and helplessness collided in my stomach, twisting into a sickening knot.
“How… how can you call yourself a human?”
Dr. Evers tilted his head slightly, a faint, almost polite smile touching his lips, as if my outrage were nothing more than a trivial inconvenience.
“Ah, emotions,” he murmured, voice smooth and deliberate.
“So messy, so… human. But yes, you understand correctly. He played his part, unwillingly, of course. Yet every action, every sacrifice, has brought science to where it is today. Progress demands certain… costs.”
He stepped closer, his gaze sharp, unyielding, as if trying to pierce through the storm of anger and disbelief swirling inside me
“But thanks to you, I had the opportunity. And now, thanks to him, the medicine exists.”
The world tilted.
I could see Lian’s face in my mind—his golden eyes, his impossible, familiar warmth—and imagine that same being trapped, experimented on, dissected for some scientific gain.
My chest constricted until it was hard to breathe.
I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to look at the cold pavement beneath my feet, willing the storm inside me to settle into something that resembled calm.
My fists unclenched—slowly, reluctantly—and I swallowed hard, tasting the bitter tang of anger and fear still thick on my tongue.
I had to ask, even though it felt like opening a wound that would never heal.
“Tell me…” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling despite my effort.
“What… what happened to him? Did he… did he really die that day? That… Lean… is he—”
Dr. Evers didn’t flinch.
His eyes held mine, steady, unyielding, but he didn’t answer. Instead, a small, measured smile curved his lips.
“You want to know the truth? The reality of what became of him? That, I cannot simply tell you.”
I felt my chest tighten, panic rising in a wave I couldn’t hold back.
“You… you mean you’re not going to tell me?”
“Not here,” he said smoothly, almost casually, though his words felt like a blade.
“If you truly wish to see him… to understand… You must visit the laboratory. Once you return home, arrangements can be made for you to come.”
I blinked, heart hammering, feeling both relief and fear twist in my stomach.
Relief that he was—somehow—still there, but fear at the thought of what I might find. My hands clenched at my sides.
“You… you’re just going to make me wait? After everything?”
Dr. Evers inclined his head slightly, polite, almost mocking.
“Patience is a virtue, my dear. You will see him. But not now. Not here. You will understand everything when you come.”
I let out a shaky breath, words failing me.
My mind screamed, questions tumbling over one another, but all I could focus on was the thought of Lean—alive, somewhere, but just out of reach.
The thought was both unbearable and necessary, and I knew, despite the fear, I would go.
Dr. Evers gave me one last, small smile before turning and disappearing into the night. My heart raced so fast it felt like it might burst, but I remained frozen, staring after him.