Kieran lost count of how long he had sat in the chair. He was comfortable with his thoughts aimlessly drifting in several different directions. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt so lax and unencumbered by a great many things.

Considering the problems that weighed on him, he had to admit that the odd sense of respite and levity was ill-suited, but he strangely enjoyed the feeling.

‘It’s not often that you get to just lay back and turn your mind off for a bit, even if it is an illusion built by your mind.’

For the first time in a while… his thoughts were quiet, and he enjoyed that comfortable silence as opposed to the maddening chaos he had dealt with for months on end.

Despite idling by his lonesome, Kieran hadn’t lost sight of what he needed to focus on. In the near future, there were the matters of ensuring Sanguis Requiem’s longevity, securing X-hancers to support the training of elite Inhumans, and finding the cause of and solution to Dahlia’s ailment. Kieran also had other concerns, namely fulfilling his promise to Maine Byrd, prioritizing their sovereignty from the grasp of the Unseen Hand should they move to greatly impede their growth, and his unnamed duties as a Myth. The Old Myths and the Watcher in the Sky had yet to disclose what these “unseen threats” entailed. What were they up against as the lesser force tasked with protecting the Boundary? And how exactly could Adepts rise to that occasion?

More than that, what would become of the Old Myths that had transcended their old obligations, passing them along to their successors?

Kieran was once more reminded how little he knew about what it meant to be a Myth and the ramifications of their presence and absence.

Those were the kind of questions he was momentarily unburdened from when his mind went mute. It was an exceptional change of pace, but Kieran understood the respite from his duties, thoughts, and the expectations placed upon him was short-lived.

Some were not as pressing, but others were already upon him, and their approach was unstoppable.

After some time, Kieran rose, stretched, and entered the converted lab with measured steps. Lillian was still tending to Dahlia after all these hours, but her expression was tense, and her fingers moved lightning quick.

She switched between many stations cluttered with paper, frantically muttering things under her breath. Usually, all her notes were kept in a single tablet, but not now. Various translucent screens hung above desks or in the open air, depicting graphs, cited studies, and heavily annotated charts.

The mounds of information idling in the air gave Kieran a start, which also made him wonder how Lillian had ever kept up with this absurd digestion of information. Her cognitive function had to sit at the precipice of the human limits before she was introduced to X-hancers.

Then again, Kieran remembered that before he assumed the role of her personal trainer, Lillian had consumed X-hancer on a regular basis. Lillian felt Kieran approach, spinning where she stood and leaning against the desk. “I don’t know where you found that guy… Weasel, you called him? But he’s sending me so much information, and I don’t see it ending anytime soon.”

Though she sounded like she was complaining, Lillian wore an exhilarated expression, her eyes burning with a lust for knowledge. She had an insatiable desire to know and understand more, and Weasel’s actions directly scratched that itch.

Kieran doubted she’d ever been satiated, but he was counting on that. Their research team was… severely lacking. If he discounted Weasel… there was only Lillian, meaning she had to pull a massive load. Aspaira could perhaps help, but she was swamped with managing the Godhand Consortium’s Alchemy Department alongside Sorcia. He couldn’t, in good faith, ask her to accept more on her already full plate.

Managing the organization was likely infringing upon her alchemical practice. Maybe there was a way to circumvent that struggle, but Kieran wasn’t too sure.

Kieran took in the informative chaos, skimming random screens as they floated past, then stood beside Lillian. “What have you got so far?”

“In terms of cohesion… not much. Everything uses evasive terminology, but if I ignore the misleading names and pay attention to the consistencies, I might be able to piece together some of the more covert conversations.”

Kieran scrutinized the details before him, “So, they’re using codes to speak without directly referring to things?”

“Precisely. And the terms are so ambiguous it’s hard to relate them to anything concrete.”

Lillian pinched the air and sent something Kieran’s way. Considering she chose this screen above all else, it had to mean something.

“That document is incredibly bizarre compared to the rest. Look how many times EXP is referenced.”

He examined the thing closely, noting how many times the mention of EXP occurred. Moreover, how this article was worded seemed focused on a game — Zenith Online.

However, aside from those obscure points, Kieran didn’t see anything particularly unusual.

“I think this might just be a game report snatched from some forum.”

Lillian begged to differ.

“No. No! That can’t be it. It quite directly states: ‘EXP is on the rise.’ That in itself is suspicious.”

Kieran didn’t want to call the intelligent woman delusion, but he felt she was very well grasping at straws here. He could attribute her vehement stance to her lack of Zenith Online-oriented knowledge, but he couldn’t overlook the fact its leveling situation pretty much echoed all earlier generations of RPG-style games. “Lillian, I’m telling you. It doesn’t seem fishy to me. The threshold for EXP rises with each level. And look here, this report seems to have come from a constituent of the developer team.” Lillian frowned, not budging from her stance. No matter how she looked at it… the wording was disconcerting — EXP is on the rise. She was inclined to trust her gut on this. After all, she excelled in picking apart certain kinds of research at medical conferences. She had cultivated a keen eye for bull**. And that use of “EXP” seemed like bull**.

That’s when she brought up a single line and typed in EXP for all matches using that term. A little overzealous, but Kieran let her work, silently watching her efforts.

Soon, many of the screens dimmed, but several thousands of reports remained, so she tweaked the prompt again. She opted for the entire phrase this time, and… in contrast, only several tens remained, and those didn’t take long to comb through.

Then, Lillian grabbed Kieran’s hand and walked him over to every iteration of the prompt.

Eventually, Kieran started to feel a tad suspicious himself. Aside from suspicions, he also winced when Lillian gave him a venomous “I told you so” glare.

“Do you see now? Multiple reports of ‘EXP is on the rise,’ and they are not of the same origins. That is no coincidence. Now, we simply need to learn what EXP is.”

Kieran readily agreed.

“I’m glad your mind is on the same frequency as mine,” Lillian said, pausing. “Hold on. Wait a minute, mister. I still have yet to do a full body, comprehensive scan on you post-awakening.”

Part of Kieran had hoped she forgot, but that was wishful thinking. He could foresee the experience of a lab rat in his near future. He let out an aggrieved sigh.

“Put me in, coach. Let’s get all the whirring, clanging, poking, prodding, and what have you all finished up. Oh, right. Don’t forget about Altair. He is also due for the lab rat experience.”