"But," Abigail interjected, her tone as sharp as ever, "the fact that all of you struggled so much to defeat that thing makes me question your abilities."

A chill ran down Beck and Aleara's spines at her words.

"Grandma," Aleara began cautiously, "you don't mean…"

"Yes, sweetie," Abigail confirmed with a too-sweet smile. "All of you will be trained by me for a while. You need to be whipped back into shape. Amy will join you too."

"I'd rather have Grandpa's people keep following us," Beck muttered, his face pale.

"Well," Gerald said, a slight smirk playing on his lips, "I'll leave you all to work out the details." With that, he turned and made his way out, heading directly to Vas's room.

Upon entering, Gerald found Hugh engrossed in a holographic screen, reviewing an array of data and medical reports.

"So, Hugh," Gerald interrupted, "how's my grandson?"

"He's doing well," Hugh replied without looking up. "We've got him sedated to speed up his recovery."

"Good. Glad to hear that," Gerald said, his tone calm yet commanding.

Hugh paused, finally glancing up from the screen. "Gerald, you know his wounds and the injuries we treated aren't consistent with those caused by an explosion."

"I don't care," Gerald responded, his voice cold. "That's what we're telling everyone. Nobody but you and I need to know the truth. Understood?" His expression darkened as he added the last part, leaving no room for debate.

"You don't need to threaten me, Gerald," Hugh replied, unfazed but slightly weary. "I'm happy to help, just pointing out the obvious. We don't know how he got those wounds."

"I do know how he got them," Gerald said, his voice dropping to a near growl. "But that's something I don't want anyone else knowing."

The room fell silent, the tension between the two men palpable. Their relationship had always been this way—Hugh often found Gerald exhausting, but there was an inexplicable ease between them that allowed for honest, if sometimes terse, exchanges.

"How long will he stay sedated?" Gerald asked, his gaze fixed on Vas, who lay still, the only movement the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Not much longer," Hugh replied, his fingers deftly tapping across a holographic console. "He should wake up within an hour or two."

"Thank you," Gerald said, his voice steady. "I'll wait here with him. Abigail wants to speak with you."

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Hugh gave a brief nod before leaving the room. Alone now, Gerald's thoughts turned inward, reflecting on the isolation his grandson had endured. Vas had been systematically pushed aside by nearly everyone—Arthur's silence, Clara's indifference, Celine and Abigail's cold distance. Only Gerald and Jacob showed him any real concern. Even his siblings, who had only reached out to him when they needed more funds, seemed to treat him like a resource rather than family. And yet, despite the cold shoulder, Vas had held onto secrets that could upend everything in an instant. Gerald couldn't quite grasp why, but one thing was certain: he would do whatever it took to protect his grandson's secrets.

Just as Hugh had predicted, about an hour later, Vas stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he slowly emerged from the fog of sedation. Gerald, seated beside him, was quietly observing a live report on the fashion show incident.

"Hello, early bird," Gerald greeted him with a knowing smile. "How are you feeling?"

"What's that thing my brother always says? Like a truck ran over me?" Vas replied, his voice rough but tinged with a dry humor.

"Well, considering the explosion you were in, that's a fair comparison," Gerald chuckled, his smile warm. "By the way, you don't need to worry about the others. Everyone's fine."

"That's good to hear," Vas said, a hint of relief slipping into his tone.

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened, and a familiar figure entered.

"Hello, Mr. Gerald," the newcomer said with a smooth, polished tone.

"Hello, Luther," Gerald responded, his voice betraying a slight edge of formality.

Luther Williams, Celine's long-time boyfriend, was the epitome of the successful businessman—charming, well-connected, and with a finger in many lucrative pies. He had been with Celine for so long that their marriage seemed more a matter of timing than decision. Vas observed Luther with a careful, almost predatory calm, letting the man's presence settle into the room.

"I'm glad to see all my future nephews are doing okay," Luther said, casting a glance at Vas.

"Yeah, but tell me, Luther," Gerald interjected, his tone growing slightly more pointed, "how exactly did you get here?"

"Celine brought me," Luther explained, his demeanor unruffled. "She was worried about her nephews, and since they'll be leaving soon for another assignment, she wanted to say her goodbyes in case they're not let out of here before she has to go."

"Oh, I see," Gerald said, though his eyes remained sharp, assessing.

Luther, sensing the subtle tension, allowed his gaze to wander around the room, eventually landing on the holographic screen displaying live coverage of the fashion show incident. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—recognition, perhaps? It was gone as quickly as it came.

"Quite the event, don't you think?" Luther remarked, his tone light, but Vas didn't miss the carefully measured words.

"Yes," Gerald answered, his voice now guarded.

"Any word on what happened or why?" Luther inquired, the casual tone betraying a hint of curiosity.

"No, nothing yet," Gerald replied, keeping his response clipped.

As the report continued, images of those still unaccounted for began to flash across the screen. Luther's calm façade wavered ever so slightly as one of the images appeared.

"Oh, damn," Luther muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing at the screen.

"What is it?" Gerald asked, his voice laced with mild curiosity.

"That man," Luther said, pointing to the screen. "He's a friend of mine. We go way back—he was with me during my first major consulting gig. In fact, I recommended him for the CEO position there. Good guy, real humanitarian."

Vas's interest piqued, though he carefully kept his expression neutral. He recognized the man immediately—one of the human-machine hybrids he had encountered. There was something here, something important, and Vas was determined to uncover it.