Page 135 of Neon Flux

The Sister led us through it all with quiet reverence, occasionally glancing back at me like I might collapse at any moment.

Cy kept his arm around me, playing the worried husband a little too convincingly. I let myself lean into him, if only to sell the act, though I couldn’t help but notice how warm and steady he felt.

After a few long corridors, we were ushered into a small chamber. The room was sparse, save for a heavy wooden table and a few high-backed chairs. A man in a simple white robe waited for us, his hands folded and head bowed like he was mid-prayer.

“Brother Lucas,” the Sister announced. “These two seekers have come to us on urgent recommendation.”

The man lifted his head, his eyes flicking to me first, lingering a moment too long on my trembling, spark-laced hand. He smiled, and it was all teeth.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice smooth and practiced. “You must have been chosen by the Light. Please, sit.”

The room was dimly lit, the glow of Stellarium mosaics casting ethereal patterns across the walls. Brother Lucas folded his hands neatly on the table, his sharp eyes flicking between us. He radiated a calm authority, but there was something elsein his gaze—a hunger just barely concealed beneath his polished demeanor.

“You’ve come to us in a time of great need, my children. The world around us is shrouded in darkness. Nowhere is that more visible than in this city of perversion and sin,” he began, his voice low and reverent. “But fear not, the Light always guides those it chooses, though rarely so…vividly.” His eyes lingered on me, and it felt more perverse than anything I’d ever experienced at the club.

I cast a nervous glance at Cy, who reached over and covered my hand with his, tracing slow, reassuring circles with his thumb. He was playing the doting husband to perfection, but the slight tension in his jaw almost gave him away.

“We believe so,” Cy said smoothly. “My wife—she’s…well, she’s special.” I saw a small spark in his eyes at that, but no—it must’ve been the lights.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t feel special. Most of the time, it’s…overwhelming. Like it’s too much for me to handle.”

Brother Lucas leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with what he probably thought was compassion, but I saw it for what it truly was: predatory.

“And yet, the Light has chosen you. Do you know what a gift that is, my dear? To be blessed with such a rare power? It is a sign of divine purpose.”

“I don’t always feel like it’s a blessing. Sometimes it feels like a curse.”

“That is the struggle of the chosen,” Brother Lucas replied, his tone dripping with faux sympathy. “The Light rarely reveals its plans all at once. It tests us, shapes us, until we are ready to fulfill its will.”

Cy squeezed my hand, his thumb pressing just a little harder—a subtle warning. “That’s why we came,” he said, his voice calmbut firm. “We were told the Church could help. That you could…guide her.”

Brother Lucas shifted his gaze to Cy, his expression momentarily unreadable. “We guide all who seek the Light, of course. But those who are chosen…they require special attention. Their journey is not like others’. Tell me, Sister, how do you truly feel about your gift?”

I hesitated, letting the silence stretch long enough to seem genuine. “I…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Sometimes I feel like it’s not mine. Like it belongs to something bigger than me. Like I’m just a vessel.”

Brother Lucas’ smile widened, and I knew I’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. “A vessel for the Light,” he murmured. “Yes, that is precisely what you are. You are not here by chance, my dear. The Light has brought you to us, so that you may become who you are meant to be.”

Cy shifted in his chair. “And how exactly does the Church help with that?” he asked. Always so impatient. I squeezed his hand back to say,Slow down.

Brother Lucas’ smile didn’t falter, but a flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes. “The Church provides guidance, support, and…discipline. The chosen must be nurtured, of course, but they must also be tested. Only through trials can one truly understand the Light’s will.”

I let out a shaky breath, pretending to be overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’ve never been tested before.”

“That is the nature of doubt,” Brother Lucas said, his voice softening. “But doubt is merely the shadow cast by the Light.”This fucking guy.It took all my will not to roll my eyes. “Embrace your gift, Sister. You were meant for more than this world’s petty struggles. You were meant to transcend them.”

I lowered my gaze, feigning vulnerability. “I just want to understand. To stop feeling like I’m fighting it all the time.”

“And you will,” he replied. “The Church will see to that.”

Cy cleared his throat, drawing the priest’s attention. “That’s all very inspiring, but my wife’s health is my priority. She’s been…struggling with this for a while now. She needs rest, not trials.”

“Of course. We would never endanger one of the chosen. But rest assured, she is in the right place. The Light will guide her, as it guides us all.”

Brother Lucas rose from his seat. It was no mistake that he positioned himself between Cy and me. His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill crawling down my spine.

“You don’t need to fear your power,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “Fear is a shackle. Your Flux, Sister, is divine providence. It marks you as chosen—a vessel for the will of the Light.”

I bit my lip, hoping I looked sufficiently nervous.A vessel. He’d thrown my words back at me, and they sounded like a trap disguised as a prayer. The same term that Renard had used.