Chapter 169: Chapter 169: Technicality
The muted clink of cutlery and the soft hiss of the skyline beyond glass had a strangely calming effect. Inside the restricted dining room the noise of the restaurant faded to a distant hum, replaced by low music and the faint aroma of roasted herbs. The attendant had just retreated after taking their order, leaving a chilled carafe of water and a basket of warm bread between them.
Elias had his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, and eyes unfocused on the glass wall as if it were a schematic. "It’s like a closed-loop simulation," he said at last, more to himself than to Victor. "An ether system feeding back into itself. Normally when I touch someone with red ether, I can see the lines, the puppets, and the control nodes. With you..." He shook his head slowly, as though trying to redraw a diagram in his mind. "With you it wasn’t strings. It was... like standing in the middle of a reactor watching every valve open at once."
Victor’s crimson gaze rested on him over the rim of his water glass, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. He said nothing, letting the words spool out.
Elias gestured vaguely, the cuff of his pale suit slipping back from his wrist. "You’re not just a vessel. You’re... stabilizing. Like a regulator sitting on top of an impossible load. And when I pushed into it, it started responding to me, like it was mapping me back." He let out a breath and looked at Victor, brows drawn. "That shouldn’t be possible."
Victor’s mouth curved, a slow, deliberate shape. "And yet," he said softly.
Elias made a low noise in his throat, half-frustrated, half-awed. "I’m trying to translate what I felt into equations, but it’s like trying to model an ocean in a coffee cup."
Victor set his glass down and leaned back a fraction, the burgundy of his suit catching the light. "And you’re still alive," he murmured, amusement threading his voice. "Still reaching for metaphors instead of running."
Elias’s lips twitched, the corner of his mouth betraying him. "Running wouldn’t help. Besides, you’d just follow."
"True," Victor said, eyes gleaming. "And I’d probably drag you back by the collar."
Elias hummed, mind still spinning. He set his fork down and gestured vaguely at Victor across the table. "This..." his fingers traced the air as if outlining a blueprint, "isn’t really yours, is it?"
Victor’s smile didn’t fade, but his gaze sharpened a fraction. "Yes and no," he said at last. "I wasn’t born in it—well, not me as you know me. The Victor before was, and he is part of me."
Elias blinked. "Wait, so the human Victor’s still in there somewhere? Like a roommate?"
Victor laughed. "More like a foundation for the body. He lived, he died, and I stepped in before the last breath."
"So... What is your original name then?"
Victor’s laugh softened, the sound rolling low across the table. "That," he said, tearing a piece of bread in half, "is a very old question."
Elias tilted his head, eyebrow rising. "You’ve had a few centuries to come up with an answer. Don’t tell me you’re shy now."
"I’m not shy," Victor said easily, but there was that flicker again behind his eyes. "It’s just... names like that aren’t really names. They’re functions. Places. Sounds that only meant something to a handful of people who are all dust now."
Elias smirked faintly. "That’s a fancy way of saying you don’t want to tell me."
Victor leaned in, elbows on the table, still smiling but quieter. "You’ll know it," he said, voice a low rumble now, "the moment you’re my soulmate. Let that be your motivator."
Elias blinked, fork halfway to his mouth. "Wow. You just... dropped that like it was nothing."
Victor’s mouth curved in a shameless grin. "What? I’m being honest."
"You’re being dramatic," Elias shot back, trying not to smile. "First day at the office, first lunch out, and you’re already dangling some ancient god-name like a prize for good behavior."
"Not a prize," Victor murmured, thumb brushing over Elias’s knuckles. "A promise."
Elias rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched anyway. "Do I have any chance at guessing it?"
Victor laughed, low and warm. "Sure. Go ahead. I’ll even give you a hint: it’s older than every language you’ve ever studied."
Elias tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "So basically impossible."
"Basically." Victor’s grin deepened, shameless as ever. "But I’d love to hear you try. Nothing’s hotter than my mate muttering dead languages at lunch."
Elias snorted into his drink. "You’re insufferable."
"And you’re curious," Victor said easily. "Eat first, then you can play twenty questions with a god."
Elias set his glass down and cut into his food, shaking his head. "I’m not sure if that’s a threat or foreplay."
"Both," Victor said without missing a beat. He reached for his own fork, eyes glinting. "Start thinking of your questions. After dessert you can guess names, origins, favorite colors..."
"I already know that one," Elias interrupted, glancing up. "Burgundy. You’re practically wearing it as a warning label."
Victor’s laugh rolled low and pleased. "Close. It’s actually the look on your face when you’re trying not to smile."
Elias rolled his eyes, but a reluctant curve tugged at his mouth anyway. "See? This is why I don’t try to win. You always change the rules."
Victor leaned in just enough for his shoulder to brush Elias’s. "You don’t have to win," he murmured, voice dropping, "you just have to keep playing."
From his post a discreet distance away, Ashwin actually groaned under his breath. He’d been the one who’d told Elias to quit stonewalling and just tell Victor how he felt, and now here they were, feeding each other lines over lunch like a romance drama. He rolled his eyes skyward, muttering something about "never again" as he pretended to check his phone.
Victor didn’t even glance up, but the corner of his mouth curved as if he’d heard every word. Elias caught Ashwin’s expression out of the corner of his eye and smothered a laugh behind his napkin.