NOVGO.NET Chapter 515: A Truth Too Cold
Chapter 515: A Truth Too Cold
“Oh, Ren. You of all people should know that nothing truly stays ’closed’ these days.”
He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve before continuing.
“I’m sure you were shocked by how he justified the actions Alister plans to take. Weren’t you?”
He took another step forward. “How easily he spoke of sacrifice… of necessity… like it was inevitable. Using Alister’s pain to justify his upcoming actions.”
Ren didn’t answer—he didn’t need to.
The man’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious why the man you admired most would agree to support a plan that terrifies you?”
Ren’s jaw clenched. “That’s none of your business.”
“Perhaps not,” the man allowed. “But you should be asking yourself… how I know it.”
He gave a wry smile.
“Ever wondered about the Li family?”
Ren blinked. “What?”
“Their estate,” the man said casually, stepping past a grave etched with binary epitaphs, “vanished one night. No alarm. No survivors. Not even a signal flare. One of the most powerful families in this Megacity… erased like they never existed.”
Ren took a slow step forward now, something cold crawling up his spine.
He had heard rumors—everyone had—but they were nothing close to being plausible: desertion, or an experiment gone wrong.
“You’re saying it wasn’t an accident.”
“I’m saying,” the man said evenly, “that your Guildmaster was there that night.”
A heavy silence fell over them.
Ren’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced, scrambling for logic—for evidence that the man was lying. But the look in his eyes…
He wasn’t lying.
And that was far worse.
Ren’s eyes suddenly blazed—literally.
Twin jets of red-hot flames surged up from his irises, licking the edges of his hood. The air around him warped faintly as the heat shimmered outward, distorting the soft violet glow of the graveyard lights.
When he spoke, his voice was low, sharp, and cold.
“What proof do you have?”
The man didn’t flinch.
He stood amidst the heat and fire as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. The flames that would’ve set lesser men aflame didn’t even singe the edge of his suit. If anything, he looked… pleased.
“Ah,” he said softly. “There it is. An S-rank fire manipulation talent. While I am tempted to test out my new abilities, I didn’t come here to fight or make threats.”
His mismatched eyes gleamed.
Ren stepped forward, each step slow and steady, the flames from his eyes casting flickering shadows along the cemetery path. The crystal obelisks reflected the light.
“Don’t dodge the question,” Ren said. “You came here uninvited, spoke of things you shouldn’t know, and now you’re making claims that could shatter everything. What proof do you have?”
The man paused, as if weighing his answer. Then, finally, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small data crystal—a dark, translucent shard humming faintly with pale red light.
He held it between two fingers.
“This contains footage recovered from a suppressed drone feed. The Union scrubbed it. Buried the records. No civilian should have access to it.”
He offered it, extending his hand slightly.
“But I’m no civilian, Ren. And neither are you.”
Ren didn’t move. He stared at the crystal like it might explode.
“Why give this to me?”
The man’s smile didn’t waver.
“Because truth is the first thread. And once you pull it—”
His red eye flared faintly.
“—everything else unravels.”
Ren’s gaze remained fixed on the glowing data crystal.
The flames in his eyes flickered but didn’t die down. His expression was unreadable—caution warring with curiosity beneath the sharp tension in his jaw.
Then he spoke.
“And how can I be sure whatever’s in there hasn’t been tampered with?”
The man’s smile deepened.
“Well… why don’t I let you be the judge of that?”
He extended the shard a little farther, tilting his head just enough to show he meant no force.
“Plug it into your personal decryptor. Run your own verification sequence. Hell, use a dozen authenticity checks if you like. I’m not asking you to believe me—just to see.”
He stepped forward and gently placed the crystal atop one of the crystalline grave obelisks beside Ren. The light within it pulsed like a sleeping heartbeat.
Then he stepped back.
“You don’t have to trust me, Ren. I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
A pause.
“But you do trust your own eyes.”
The man adjusted his cuffs, turning slightly.
“I’ll take my leave. For now. Watch the feed… or don’t. Either way, we’ll see each other again.”
And with that, he turned and began to walk, his silhouette slowly swallowed by the distant mist beyond the graveyard’s edge—like a shadow returning to the dark.
Ren stood frozen, the hum of the cemetery returning to the foreground like a tide washing in after a storm. His eyes were locked on the glowing crystal now resting on the grave of one of his teammates. The pulse of its light was steady, almost inviting, like a quiet knock on a locked door.
He didn’t reach for it immediately.
Instead, he looked down at the grave beneath it—Gius’s.
The smirk Ren remembered was etched clearly in his mind. Loud, cocky, always cracking jokes even in the worst situations. Gius would’ve called this “the plot hook of doom.”
Ren chuckled under his breath. It was dry and hollow.
Then his expression hardened.
With a quiet breath, he reached out and carefully took the artifact.
It was cold. Much colder than it should’ve been.
He stared at it for a moment longer, the light reflecting off his eyes.
“…Not here.”
Ren turned, slipping the crystal into the inner pocket of his hoodie, fingers brushing the sleek shell once more before zipping it up.
His footsteps were quieter this time as he exited Eterna Rest. The city’s artificial breeze hit him at the gates—carrying the metallic scent of ozone and distance from the industrial spires.
He didn’t look back.
Later, at his residence…
Ren’s home wasn’t just a house—it was a fortified hillside mansion, perched on the upper curvature of Sector 1’s arc ring. A clean architectural blend of dark concrete, chrome glass, and soft blue lumenstone. Isolated. Secure. Expensive.
Inside, the lights flicked on automatically as the door hissed closed behind him.
He tossed the hoodie aside, revealing the light armor plates hidden beneath—habit. He walked straight into the study.
The room was wide, sparsely decorated. One massive wall was filled with digital bookshelves, while another was a window that overlooked the distant shimmer of the mid-city skyline.
In the center, a secure interface terminal—flat, black, sleek, built directly into a reinforced obsidian desk.
Ren sat down, drew out the crystal, and slid it into a reader port.
The console reacted immediately.
[“Unknown memory source detected. Encrypted. Begin deep scan?”]