"I am going to take his breath away, line by line, until he has nothing left to offer but his bones," Zeldin whispered, his metallic voice echoing with a chilling, absolute finality through the ruined penthouse.
Rea pressed her palms against her ears, her entire body shaking as she stared at the floor. The five corpses of Giska's hitmen still lay scattered across the polished obsidian, their dark blood expanding into silent, stagnant pools that ruined the pristine perfection of the room. The smell of burning flesh and plasma discharge lingered heavily in the conditioned air. She watched through blurred vision as automated clean-up drones silently rolled out from hidden wall compartments, their sensory lasers flickering as they began the mechanical process of dissolving the bodies into sanitised liquid waste.
Zeldin did not cast another glance at the destruction behind him. He turned his imposing frame away from the shattered terrace windows, his heavy, reinforced boots stepping over a river of deep crimson without a hint of hesitation. The left side of his face, completely encased in polished black chrome, caught the cold light of the flickering crystal chandeliers. His crimson optical sensor glowed with a steady, unyielding intensity, calculating data streams that Rea could only guess at.
"Get up, Rea," Zeldin commanded quietly, his voice a low, mechanical rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. "The blood on your dress is beginning to dry. It does not suit the aesthetic of my household."
Rea scrambled to her feet, her slender porcelain-synth legs nearly giving out beneath her weight. She gripped the blood-splattered silk of her wedding gown, her fingers trembling so violently that the delicate lace began to tear under her manicured nails. "Where are you taking me? Please, Zeldin, let me wash this off. I can’t breathe with this smell in the air."
"Follow me," he replied simply, turning his back on her as he strode toward the heavy, reinforced double doors leading deeper into the private residential wing of Apex Tower.
Rea hurried after him, her heart hammering frantically against her artificial ribs. She dared not look back at the automated cleaning units that were busy erasing the evidence of the slaughter. Every step she took felt like an execution march, the heavy diamond-encrusted cybernetic choker around her neck serving as a constant, heavy reminder of her total lack of autonomy. She had wanted luxury, she had craved the boundless opulence of the Upper Districts, but the reality of her newfound wealth was turning out to be a psychological prison wrapped in silk.
Zeldin led her into an immense, circular dressing suite that looked more like a high-end commercial boutique in District 01 than a private bedroom wardrobe. The walls were lined with thousands of illuminated glass capsules, each housing a different garment made from the rarest fabrics in the Neo-Soma megacity. Levitating holographic displays rotated slowly in the center of the room, showcasing the latest lines of active cybernetic fashion, garments woven with responsive micro-filaments that could shift colors and textures based on the wearer’s neural impulses.
"This is all yours," Zeldin said, gesturing toward the endless display of wealth with his massive, black metal arm. "Every stitch of fabric, every piece of jewelry, and every advanced biological enhancement you could ever dream of has been purchased under your name."
Rea’s eyes widened with a sudden, involuntary surge of her native greed. For a brief, fleeting moment, the stark terror in her chest was eclipsed by the dazzling display of absolute luxury. She walked toward a central glass capsule, her synthetic fingertips lightly tracing the smooth surface. Inside hung a sleek, silver gown crafted from liquid-metal silk and integrated with premium cybernetic aesthetics that would cost a standard citizen an entire lifetime of labor to afford.
"Do you truly like it?" Zeldin asked, his human eye narrowing slightly as he observed the return of her shallow fascination.
"It is beautiful," Rea whispered, her voice losing some of its tremor as she gazed at the silver fabric. "I have only ever seen this model on the premier net-broadcasts. Giska always said it was too expensive to import from the colonial manufacturing hubs."
"Giska was a low-sector middleman who operated on thin margins," Zeldin stated coldly, his metallic jaw tightening. "Do not compare my liquidity to his pathetic scraps. You are the wife of the chief executive of Soma-Tech Industries now. You will wear nothing less than the pinnacle of corporate design."
He stepped closer to her, his towering shadow completely enveloping her small frame. He reached out and tapped a sequence into the control panel of the glass capsule. The reinforced container hissed open, releasing a small cloud of pressurized cooling vapor as the silver cybernetic gown slid forward on an automated track.
"Put it on," Zeldin commanded, his tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation or delay. "I have cleared your family's debts from the central repository, and your mother’s medical account has been credited with fifty thousand Bio-Creds for her internal organ replacement. I have fulfilled my side of the financial agreement."
Rea took the liquid silk dress into her hands, the material feeling incredibly cool and adaptive against her synthetic skin. She looked up at his half-chrome face, her lips parting as she tried to find a trace of the gentle boy she had betrayed two years ago. "And what is my side of the agreement, Zeldin?"
"Absolute obedience, Rea," Zeldin murmured, leaning down until his cold, metallic breath brushed against her cheek. "You will eat what I dictate, you will walk where I allow, and you will speak only when I permit it. Every luxury I provide you with comes with a price that cannot be negotiated. You wanted a life where your beauty would never fade, and I have given it to you. In return, your physical freedom belongs entirely to my database."
Rea swallowed hard, the weight of the silver dress suddenly feeling as heavy as a lead weight in her arms. She turned toward the private changing alcove, her head bowed in silent submission as she began the process of stripping away her ruined, blood-soaked wedding gown. The white silk fell to the floor in a crumpled, stained heap, a visual representation of her discarded human life.
As she pulled the premium silver cybernetic dress over her shoulders, the advanced fabric instantly reacted to her body heat. The micro-filaments inside the liquid silk came to life, weaving themselves tightly around her waist and hips, molding to her porcelain-synth contours with an unnatural, skintight precision. It felt perfect, a masterpiece of high-society fashion that highlighted her engineered beauty flawlessly.
She stepped out of the changing alcove, looking at her reflection in the full-length smart-mirror on the wall. The dress glowed with a faint, ethereal silver luminescence, shifting gracefully with every movement of her body. For a split second, she felt a thrill of immense vanity, believing that she had truly won the ultimate prize despite the dark circumstances of her marriage.
Zeldin stood behind her, his crimson optical sensor tracking the silver light of the gown. He did not touch her, but his presence in the reflection was terrifyingly dominant. He raised his hand, pointing a small digital transmitter toward her back.
"Initialization protocol complete," a cold, computerized voice echoed from the hidden speakers within the room’s mainframe.
Suddenly, Rea felt a sharp, electric sting at the base of her neck, right where her diamond choker met the upper spine interface of her synthetic skin. The micro-filaments of the silver dress began to contract violently, their internal nanites linking directly into her sub-dermal neural ports. A terrifying realization flooded her mind as the adaptive fabric tightened, locking her joints into a rigid, upright posture that she could not control.
"What is happening?" Rea gasped, her hands flying to her throat as she felt her breath catch in her chest. "Zeldin, stop it! The dress is pulling at my neural ports!"
"It is merely integrating with your network, Rea," Zeldin replied smoothly, his expression completely vacant of emotion as he watched her struggle against the automated constraints of the garment.
Rea choked, her vision blurring as a series of red diagnostic warnings flashed across her internal retinal display, showing that her biological tracking system was being forcibly synchronized with Zeldin's private computer network. "I can’t move my arms on my own! It’s locking me in!"
Aksara