Talent Awakening: Draconic Overlord Of The Apocalypse-Chapter 479: • The Cost of Clarity

Chapter 479: • The Cost of Clarity

The Union Branch Director’s office in Megacity I was a massive, imposing space, its walls now lined with polished obsidian panels that reflected the city’s gleaming skyline through a floor-to-ceiling window.

A massive desk of black marble dominated the room, its surface cluttered with holographic data pads and a single crystal paperweight etched with the Union’s blue “U.”

The air hummed with the faint buzz of mana-driven tech, and the distant pulse of the city echoed beyond the glass.

Claus stood before the desk, his ashen-white hair falling unevenly over his pale face, his glowing blue eyes sharp despite the strain etched into his face.

The suppression collar around his neck hummed faintly, its blue and gold crystal pulsing, a constant reminder of his fragile state.

His mutated left hand, though smaller now, still had grotesque, claw-like fingers, twitching slightly as he gripped a data tablet loaded with his research.

Aethel, the Union Branch Director, sat behind the desk, his silver hair neatly combed, his dark blue eyes calm but intense.

His tailored suit, adorned with subtle Union insignias, made him look as refund as ever, though his posture gave away his weariness from the city’s mounting crises.

Claus had just finished a meticulous, hour-long presentation:

The combination of banned drugs—Aeriostatin-B12 and Polymerase Inhibitor X3—paired with the suppression collar’s Aetheric Frequency Regulator could slow the red mist’s viral mutation, stabilizing infected cells without triggering fatal organ failure.

He proposed a scaled-up trial, deploying the treatment to infected civilians, using himself as proof of its efficacy.

His data tablet projected holograms of cellular models, mutation graphs, and his own stabilized vitals, each point a proof of his desperate gamble.

Claus leaned forward, his blue eyes burning with conviction. “This can work, Director. We can subdue the virus, save thousands—maybe millions. I’ve tested it on myself, and I’m standing here, mutation slowed, mind intact. We can’t wait any longer.”

Aethel’s expression remained impassive, his fingers steepled as he studied the holograms, then Claus.

He exhaled slowly, his voice measured but firm.

“Your research is… remarkable, Claus, but I’m afraid it’s not approved.”

Claus froze, tablet slipped, clattering on the floor.

“Not approved?” His voice cracked, disbelief giving way to desperation. He walked up and slammed both hands on the marble desk, the impact echoing loudly as they left massive dents.

“Why? This is our best shot! People are dying out there—turning into monsters! Why reject it?”

Aethel’s eyes narrowed, unflinching. “You used unauthorized drugs, Claus—Aeriostatin and P.I.X3, banned for their lethality. You injected yourself with substances that killed their test subjects in the past, and now you propose we distribute them to the public? That’s not a plan; it’s a gamble with lives.”

Claus’s face flushed, his voice rising, frantic.

“A gamble that worked! Look at me, Director—I’m living proof! The mutation’s slowed, my cells are stable, my mind’s clear. I did this to myself, knowing the risks, and it worked. We can refine the ratios, use the collar to regulate mana spikes—it’s not perfect, but it’s a start! This is the only solution we have! The guilds—White Comets, Red Phoenix, all of them—have been scrambling for months and found nothing! Nothing, Aethel! Why reject the one thing that works? People are dying, turning into monsters!”

Aethel leaned forward, his tone sharp. “And what are the chances it works the same for others, Claus? How do you know civilian bodies—without your unique physiology, your unique talent—will react like yours? What if the drugs kill them instead? Or worse, amplify the mutation? The public’s trust in the Union is already at its breaking point. If we roll out a treatment that fails—or causes catastrophic side effects—people won’t just complain. They’ll riot. We’ll lose what little control we have left.”

Claus’s breath hitched, his mutated hand trembling as he gripped the desk’s edge, his blue eyes blazing with frustration, he looked down, his hair shadowing half his face as he gritted his teeth then said.

“So we do nothing? Let the mist keep spreading, turning people into husks? I’m telling you, this can save them! We can test it, start small, monitor—anything but sitting on our hands!”

Aethel’s gaze softened, but his resolve held. “I admire your passion, Claus, and your sacrifice. But we can’t risk it. You’re a scientist; you know this.”

Claus staggered back, his shoulders slumping. His voice dropped, bitter and hoarse.

“A scientist… right. And what good is science if it can’t save anyone?” He ran his human hand through his ashen hair, the suppression collar humming louder as his emotions spiked.

For a moment, he looked ready to argue, but the weight of Aethel’s words crushed his resolve, at least it seemed that way on the surface.

He straightened, his face hardening, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Thank you for your time, Director.”Without another word, Claus turned, about to leave when—

“One moment, Claus.” Aethel’s voice stopped him.

He pressed a console button, and the door hissed open, revealing two Union security officers in sleek black exosuits.

Claus froze, shock etching his pale face. “What is this?”

Aethel stood, his tone grave. “I know your passion for your work, Claus, and I know losing your sister to the mist drives you. But that same loss makes you reckless. I fear you won’t stop this project, even with my orders. For the Union’s safety, you’ll be held in detainment until we’re certain you’ll comply.”

Claus’s eyes widened, his mutated hand twitching. “Detainment? You’re locking me up for trying to save people? Director this isn’t like you, what is going on damnit!”

The officers stepped forward, gripping his arms. He struggled weakly as they placed cuffs on him, he was about to yell at the director when—

He caught a strange red glow flickering in Aethel’s eyes, very subtle but unmistakable.

His breath hitched, a weak, bitter chuckle escaping.

“Of course… that explains why you’d refuse. Damn it.”

As the officers dragged him out, Claus’s glowing blue eyes dimmed, his chuckle fading into silence, the red glow in Aethel’s gaze lingering as the door sealed shut, leaving the office—and Claus’s hopes—in darkness.

Aethel stood motionless for a moment, his silver hair catching the office’s dim light, his dark eyes unreadable.

Slowly, he turned to face the massive window behind his chair, his tailored suit shifting as he gazed out at Megacity I’s skyline—pristine skyscrapers shimmering, hover traffic weaving like fireflies, the faint red mist creeping at the city’s edges like a lurking predator.

His reflection in the glass was sharp, albeit handsome, but now, a small yet unmistakable, a strange black skull tattoo pulsed faintly on his neck, its edges writhing as if alive.

He tilted his head slightly, the tattoo catching the light, a sinister mark that hadn’t been there months ago.

He spoke, his voice low, resonant. “I can’t allow your plan to hinder the will of the abyss, Claus. All came from nothing, and all must return to nothing.”

The words hung in the empty office, absorbed by the obsidian walls, as if the city itself were listening.

Aethel’s lips curved into a faint, cryptic smile, his dark blue eyes reflecting the red mist’s distant glow.

In the corridor outside, Claus stumbled between the security officers, his mutated left hand twitching, the suppression collar humming around his neck.

His glowing blue eyes flickered with shock, replaying the red glow in Aethel’s gaze. His weak chuckle had been a surrender, but now a spark of defiance flared within him.

“The abyss…” he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse but resolute, his hinted senses allows him overhear Aethel. “If that’s what’s pulling the strings, I’ll tear it apart myself.”

…

…

The White Comets’ hover limo glided to a smooth stop in a narrow alley of Megacity I, its sleek silver-blue frame a stark contrast to the shadowed, neon-lit walls flanking it.

Door opened and Alister stood, his long black coat swaying as he adjusted the small silver dragon coiled around his shoulders, its crystal-like scales shimmering, purple eyes blinking lazily.

His eyes scanned his teammates before he spoke. “I’m getting off here. Got something to handle.”

Lady Aiko, seated with her datapad, snapped her gaze up, blue eyes narrowing behind glasses, her blue hair catching the limo’s light. “Something to handle? Now? Care to elaborate, Alister?”

Hiroshi, leaning back propped against his shoulder, raised a brow, his hair falling messily over one eye.

“Yeah, man, what’s with the lone wolf act? You just blew a guy’s head off in front of half the city. Now you’re ditching us?”

His playful smirk didn’t hide his confusion.

Ren, adjusting his glasses. “Don’t be reckless, Alister. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”

Kaida crossed her arms, her silver-blue uniform creased. “Seriously, what’s so urgent you can’t tell us?”

Razorgrin grunted, “The guy’s at it again.”

Alister’s silver dragon chirped, nuzzling his neck, and he gave a faint, reassuring smile.

“Stay safe, all of you, I won’t be long.” His tone was calm.

Hiroshi let out a weak chuckle, rubbing his neck. “Stay safe? Man, I’ve never heard such a dark joke before. For real, though—can’t you leave one dragon with us or something? You know, for backup incase another gate pops up?”

His grin was half-serious, eyes darting to the silver dragon.

Razorgrin’s brows shot up, his voice a low growl. “You serious right now, Hiroshi?”

Hiroshi shrugged, smirking.

“Is that even a question? Guy’s got a whole dragon army. Sharing’s caring, right?”

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