CHAPTER 104: CHAPTER 104: CORRUPTION AND DATE (2)

Victor didn’t rush the next answer, letting the pause stretch just long enough for the sound of clinking glassware and low conversation from the other tables to fill it. When he finally spoke, his tone had the kind of uniform weight that suggested he was reciting something older than either of them.

"Like every deity with a following," he said, his gaze steady on Elias, "some of mine chose different paths. Ambition makes people inventive. Desperation makes them reckless. The red ether I give them does exactly what I designed it to do. It strengthens, sharpens, and allows them to break through limits mortals shouldn’t. But it isn’t a gift without a price."

Elias stilled, fork halfway to his mouth. "You gave Matteo power."

"I gave him what he asked for," Victor corrected. "If they follow the requirements, they live. If they stray..." His fingers flexed once against the tablecloth, an absent gesture, like the memory of closing his hand around something fragile. "The power eats them from the inside out. Slowly. Rotting until there’s nothing left to command but a shell."

"And Matteo strayed."

Victor’s mouth curved faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "He thought he could change the rules mid-game. They all do, eventually." His gaze drifted, almost idly, to Elias’s plate. "That’s the difference between him and me. I wrote the rules. They only borrowed them."

Elias considered him in silence, the flicker of thought behind his eyes sharper now, like he was mapping an entire simulation tree in his head.

"You’re thinking it could be stabilized," Victor said, not quite a question.

Elias didn’t confirm it, but his expression was answer enough.

Victor’s gaze didn’t waver, but there was a subtle shift in the air between them.

"You’re wondering why Matteo lasted as long as he did."

Elias’s eyes narrowed, not confirming but not denying either.

"It wasn’t him," Victor continued. "It was you."

The fork stilled in Elias’s hand. "Excuse me?"

"You filter rogue ether without even trying. When you were near him, whether you wanted to be or not, you kept the worst of it from turning on him. Slowed the rot. Blunted the recoil." His tone was calm, but the words landed like a slow knife. "He would have burned out months ago if you hadn’t been within reach."

Elias’s mind flicked back to moments at the lab, casual encounters at events, and even the symposium before today. He had felt the sharp edges in Matteo’s ether before, but never this... unstable.

"You’re saying I was keeping him alive," Elias said flatly.

Victor’s mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. "I’m saying you made him think he could survive it. That was his mistake." He leaned back in his chair, the low light catching the faint, dangerous glint in his eyes. "You’re not doing it anymore, are you?"

"No." Elias set his fork down, the porcelain plate whispering under the weight. "I’m not."

Victor’s gaze lingered on him, unblinking, the kind of look that made the air feel narrower. Then he reached for his wine glass, the movement unhurried. "Good. I prefer your focus elsewhere."

Elias’s eyes didn’t leave his. "But... wasn’t that the same reason you wanted me? That I can filter it?"

Victor’s mouth curved faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. "Hmm... yes and no." He took a slow sip, as though deciding how much truth to give. "Yes, you can filter ether in every form. No, I didn’t need you to keep me alive. I needed you to make this vessel bend easier to me. And because..." His gaze lowered briefly to Elias’s mouth, then back up. "You’re the only one compatible to be my soulmate. Not just a simple bond."

Elias tipped his head slightly, studying him the way he might a complex model that refused to give clean data. "So what if..." he drew the words out just enough to make them sharp, "you didn’t want me for myself? You wanted me because I could keep your strays alive?"

Victor’s fingers stilled on the stem of his wine glass. The glass itself was tall and thin, cradling a garnet-dark pour that caught the low light like it had its own pulse. He’d chosen it without even looking at the menu, a vintage from a year Elias had been too young to legally drink, let alone afford. The scent alone was heavy, ripe black cherry, with a thread of smoke, and it made the glassware in front of Elias feel like it belonged in a museum more than on a table.

Then, slowly, the corners of Victor’s mouth curved with genuine amusement that loosened the fine lines around his eyes. His gaze, deep red in the amber light, warmed with something dangerously close to contentment.

"Strays," he echoed, like it was a pet name he might keep. "More like dissidents. Is that what you think Matteo was?"

"I’m not talking about Matteo." Elias shifted his fork to nudge aside a curl of shaved truffle, as if testing whether it had the right to be there. The plate was a meticulous arrangement: slow-roasted meat sliced into perfect medallions, a smear of something green and unidentifiable, and a scattering of edible flowers that looked more suited for a garden wall than his dinner. "I’m talking about every piece you move across the board, every little disciple you keep just close enough to use and far enough to abandon when they rot. Maybe I’m just... better storage."

Victor’s laugh was quiet, unhurried, carrying more delight than offense. "You think I’d waste you on that?" His gaze lingered on Elias, unblinking and openly entertained now. "No, my dear. If I wanted a filter, I could have built one from the bones of any willing zealot. You are..." He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting like he’d just hit on the right word, "irreplaceable."

Elias arched a brow, using his fork to prod at the meat before cutting into it with deliberate slowness. "Flattery is a lazy move." He still avoided the garnish entirely, and when he finally tasted the meat, it was with the faint suspicion of a man checking for a hidden clause in a contract.

"It isn’t flattery if it’s true," Victor murmured, and the way he said it made it sound less like a compliment and more like a fact. He leaned back slightly, swirling his wine, the deep liquid catching the light like spilled blood.

"You’re enjoying this," Elias said, narrowing his eyes, though his tone didn’t hide the faint pull of curiosity.

"Of course," Victor said easily, the edges of his mouth curling. "It’s rare to be challenged over dinner by someone who doesn’t flinch at the taste of their own defiance."