Chapter 92: Nonsense

Across the entire complex, Cyrus was the only one whose Sentinel pheromones carried a crisp, dark woody profile—making his trail ridiculously easy to pick up.

So Bunny followed right behind Chopper, searching floor by floor.

Eventually, Chopper led her all the way to the Tower’s solitary confinement sector.

She hadn’t set foot in this block ever since Liam finished serving his isolation sentence. Out of every space in the installation, the Sentinels loathed the confinement unit most.

What was Cyrus doing here?

Chopper skidded to a halt in front of the final isolation cell, refusing to take another step. It had detected an overwhelming, volatile wave of mental energy—a dark storm of psychic force so dense it felt utterly destructive.

Sentinels were naturally territorial, their pheromones mutually repelling one another. When it came to boundary markers and warnings from their own kind, their sensory perception was brutally acute.

Faced with such an astronomical gap in power levels, Chopper was already suffering from acute physical discomfort—a visceral, genetic instinct to yield and bow before an absolute alpha.

Bunny, however, felt none of it. Seeing that Chopper was terrified to advance, she had no choice but to push ahead alone.

She couldn’t fathom why Cyrus would voluntarily lock himself inside a confinement cell. Yet the moment her fingers grazed the digital lock panel, a flood of pitch-black mental threads spilled through the seam of the heavy door.

They had already caught the scent of her Guide pheromones.

Surging psychic force descended like a rogue tsunami crushing a tiny vessel, engulfing her whole. Instinctively triggered, Bunny’s own mental threads reached out from her forehead, uncontrolled.

A Guide’s pure, biological drive was instantly ignited.

It was a primal craving bleeding from the Sentinel—an insatiable, ravenous hunger for soothing.

Bunny’s head spun with dizzying intensity. His mental energy was far too oppressive and domineering; merely brushing against it threatened to drain her spiritual reserves dry in an instant.

She tried to back away and flee, but her mental threads were hopelessly snared and entangled by his.

A helpless little rabbit delivering itself right to the doorstep—what predator would ever let that walk away?

Before she even realized it, Bunny’s hand had already disengaged the heavy blast door. Inside, Cyrus lay stripped down to his bare torso, curled up on the cold metallic floor with his back facing her.

His physical build was undeniably flawless—sculpted without a single millimeter of wasted space.

Narrow waist, broad back, long legs—the absolute pinnacle of an elite combat physique.

The metal flooring here was fully rigged with live high-voltage grids designed specifically to subdue chaotic, wildly thrashing Sentinels.

Yet he appeared eerily still, lying there without moving a muscle.

That is, if one chose to ignore the sea of boiling, pitch-black mental threads writhing around his body—a textbook manifestation of a mind teetering on the edge of pure frenzy.

Standing near the threshold, Bunny called out tentatively, "Cyrus?"

He gave no reply, nor did he shift his weight.

Bunny had originally come to talk business, but looking at him in his current state, serious conversation seemed out of the question.

Out of genuine concern, she took a few cautious steps forward. Right as her foot landed on its third stride, his voice cut through the air:

"Don’t come any closer."

His pitch was low, raspy, and thoroughly parched, carrying a strained grit as if he were fighting with every fiber of his being to suppress excruciating pain.

Bunny froze in place, hesitating for a moment before wringing her fingers and speaking up.

"Look, I know my performance in today’s evaluation was terrible—it fell way short of what you guys consider acceptable. But San already told me that everyone is required to deploy for this encirclement."

"It’s not like I’m completely useless, you know? I hate how much you criticize my empathy, but I get it now—helping others shouldn’t put myself or my teammates in danger. I promise I won’t drag the squad down."

Bunny nervously curled her toes, pitching and packaging herself with all the desperate energy of a candidate trying to impress an interviewer.

Perhaps their aggressive, high-pressure push felt overwhelming at first, but on a merciless waste planet, a Sentinel’s cold efficiency was the only barrier standing between life and death.

Aberrations were a deeply deceitful species.

Inside the cell, the air plunged into a dead, suffocating quiet, like a droplet of clear water disappearing into a pool of dark ink without leaving a single ripple.

After a long pause, Cyrus offered a cold, detached response. "Did you come all the way down here just to spout this nonsense?"

What else then?! Did you want me to wish you a speedy trip into a grave?!

This guy was truly missing a few wiring harnesses in his brain.

Her face fell into a scowl. Cyrus pushed himself up with his arms, settling into a sitting position and turning his head slightly toward her:

"Who allowed you in here?"

Bunny felt momentarily flustered, smoothing down her sleeve. "I was worried something might have happened to you, so I came in to check."

Classic case of biting the hand that feeds you.

"Worried?"

Cyrus let out a faint, mocking scoff. "Miss Bunny, you’re always like this—unable to even gauge your own safety, yet so quick to offer worry and pity to others."

"You..."

He paused with dangerous intensity, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Where did you really come from?"

That piercing soul-question sent a sharp shudder down Bunny’s spine. Had he actually figured out that she was someone from a completely different era?

No way... She wasn’t an alien or anything—just their distant, ancient ancestor!

Forcing herself to stay composed, Bunny shot a counter-question right back at him with equal defiance:

"You’re my teammate—is it really so weird for me to check up on you? Why are you so paranoid?"

Cyrus’s tone remained dismissively calm. Even as his head felt on the verge of exploding from blinding pain, Chi was proving thoroughly uncooperative.

That mystical, unfathomable divine beast was just as impossible to tame as its master.