what if I'm an undead! then so what?-Chapter 56: Elias And Kaien

The Valmere Hotel’s penthouse suite felt more like a royal palace than a corporate accommodation. Sleek black-and-gold fixtures gleamed from every corner, while soft lighting bathed the room in a subtle amber hue. Elias sat with Miss Jane across a marble coffee table, the freshly signed contract resting on the surface between them like an unspoken bond.

"Very well then," she said, clasping her hands as her professional tone slipped into one of satisfaction. "The first shoot begins in one hour. You’ll be transported to our private indoor set. Don’t worry—we handle everything from wardrobe to makeup."

Elias nodded, his golden eyes flickering with faint amusement. He wasn’t here for fashion, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the luxury and the temporary distraction. The two-million-dollar contract he’d just signed was more than enough to sustain his mission for years. Still, something gnawed at him—an unease that hadn’t left since Aurelia’s cryptic words.

Miss Jane stood, straightened her jacket, and gave a small smile. "You’ll be picked up in fifteen minutes. Be ready."

---

The Valmere Studios were located in a towering facility just outside central Los Angeles, designed to shield its high-profile operations from the public. Inside, the space transformed into a maze of immaculate stages, catwalks, dressing rooms, and crew quarters. Each hallway buzzed with stylists, photographers, and assistants—all laser-focused on the upcoming shoot.

Elias sat quietly in the styling room as professionals surrounded him. He wore a full black ensemble: a modern silk turtleneck under a tailored overcoat with silver lining along the cuffs and collar, paired with slim trousers and polished dress boots. The outfit radiated wealth, elegance, and enigmatic charm. His golden hair had been brushed to perfection, allowing the subtle glow of his eyes to shine unhindered.

"Camera-ready," the stylist confirmed.

"Right this way, Mr. Elias," a young assistant called, leading him toward the main set.

The set resembled a surreal dreamscape—fog machines, reflective floors, and suspended glass shards mimicking the refractive effects of luxury cologne. Lights dimmed to a twilight hue as a voice announced through a headset: "Begin in three, two, one—"

Elias stepped forward as instructed, walking confidently through the stage as the cameras rolled. He passed between sculpted crystal structures, pausing at designated markers to allow slow-panning shots of his face, posture, and expression. He sprayed a small amount of cologne on his wrist, then brought it to his neck with an elegant gesture as the frame froze—exactly as choreographed.

"Perfect," the director whispered. "That’s a wrap for Segment A. Let’s prep Segment B."

As Elias stepped off the stage for a short break, a voice called to him from behind.

"You handled that well for a first-timer."

He turned. Standing several feet away was a tall young man—slightly shorter than Elias but built with a lean, symmetrical frame that hinted at artificial perfection. His silver hair was parted immaculately, and his eyes—an odd crystalline blue—shimmered unnaturally beneath the overhead lights.

"Thanks," Elias said cautiously. "And you are?"

The silver-haired model took a step closer, his presence smooth, calculated—like a machine mimicking human grace. "Kaien," he replied with a crisp smile, his voice even-toned yet too perfect, as if rehearsed countless times. "I’ll be in Segment B with you. Valmere’s idea of pairing contrast—light and shadow. You’re the sun; I suppose I’m the moon."

Elias tilted his head slightly. That answer was... poetic. Overly so.

"Kaien," he repeated, nodding faintly. "Nice to meet you."

Kaien’s gaze lingered for half a second longer than was comfortable. Then he looked away, examining the stage. "I must say, you’re quite the natural. Your energy... it stands out."

Elias’s brow twitched. Energy?

"Maybe it’s just the nerves," Elias offered smoothly, downplaying the comment with a casual shrug. "First-time excitement, you know?"

Kaien hummed softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps. Or perhaps not."

Before Elias could respond, the assistant called them back to the set. Segment B was a duet shot—two models walking in opposing directions, then pausing at centerstage as their paths crossed, symbolizing the merging of identities through scent and fashion. A classic high-art concept, shallow in its philosophy but dramatic enough to look good on camera.

As the cameras rolled, Elias walked forward, his posture relaxed but deliberate. Across the stage, Kaien mirrored his movement with eerie synchronization. When they met in the middle, their eyes locked—just for a breath.

Something passed between them.

Elias couldn’t place it. It wasn’t malice. Not even suspicion, not yet. But it was pressure—a gentle ripple beneath his skin, like standing too close to a magnetic field. Kaien’s presence didn’t just feel different; it felt constructed. Precision without variance. Charisma without warmth.

Kaien’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if reading him in return. And Elias knew in that moment—he wasn’t the only one asking questions.

"Cut," came the director’s voice. "Perfect. Move to Segment C."

They walked off-stage side by side, neither saying a word until they reached the hallway that led to the next preparation zone. The moment the door shut behind them, away from the bustling crew, Kaien spoke again.

"You’re not from here, are you?"

Elias paused mid-step.

"Los Angeles?" he asked, feigning confusion. "No, not really. Why do you ask?"

Kaien didn’t answer right away. His crystalline eyes shifted, not scanning Elias’s appearance, but something deeper. He gave a small, knowing smile.

"There’s something about your rhythm," he said finally. "Your movements. Not irregular, just... unrefined. Like someone who knows how to move, but not why."

Elias felt the corner of his lip twitch. "And you’re an expert on movement?"

"I am," Kaien said simply.

The way he said it didn’t come off as arrogant. Just factual. The tone made it more unnerving.

"Let’s just say I’ve studied enough human anatomy and behavioral patterns to recognize when something doesn’t quite align."

The words hung in the air.

Human anatomy. Not just anatomy. Human.

Elias didn’t react outwardly, but his senses sharpened. His golden eyes narrowed by a fraction. "That’s quite the field of study for a model."

Kaien smiled again. "I wasn’t always a model."

A short silence followed. Neither of them walked any farther. They stood in that hallway—surrounded by sterile white walls, away from the public eye.

"What about you?" Kaien asked. "What did you do before this?"

"Wandered," Elias said. "A lot. Traveled. Studied some. Never modeled before."

"Yet you signed with Valmere like you were born for it."

"Let’s just say I needed the money."

Kaien chuckled. "Don’t we all?"

But there was no humor in his tone. Elias watched him closely. This man—Kaien—he was too smooth, too well-calibrated. His footsteps made no sound. His expressions were symmetrical, unnervingly precise. Even now, standing still, there was an unnatural stillness to him, like a statue waiting for input.

Elias let his guard drop just slightly—not enough to be vulnerable, but just enough to invite scrutiny. He wanted to test Kaien’s senses. See how he’d respond.

He took a deep breath, and let his energy flow loosely.

Not all of it. Just enough to tint the atmosphere. Like heat rising off the desert sands—subtle, but undeniable.

Kaien blinked. His head tilted.

"You really are different," he murmured. "There’s a density to your presence. Not spiritual. Not psionic. Something else."

Elias raised a brow. "And you can sense that?"

Kaien’s expression didn’t change, but his next words were sharper. "I can sense everything."

There it was again—that factual tone. No arrogance. No pride. Just confidence born from absolute certainty.

Elias folded his arms. "Tell me something, Kaien. You said I don’t move like a model. But you—you move like you were designed to."

Kaien met his gaze. "And what do you think that means?"

"I think," Elias said slowly, "that you weren’t just trained. You were built."

A quiet beat followed.

Kaien gave a soft, amused sound. "That’s an interesting theory."

"Not a theory," Elias replied. "Just a gut feeling."

Kaien studied him now with unveiled scrutiny. The amusement faded from his features.

"And what are you, Elias? You look human. Sound human. Even act like one. But that energy you just let slip—no human I’ve met ever carried that."

"Maybe I’m just exceptional," Elias offered coolly.

Kaien took a step forward. "Or maybe you’re hiding what you are."

Elias’s eyes narrowed. "We could stand here and guess all day. But I don’t think this is the place for answers."

Kaien glanced back toward the hallway. No sound came from the set. No assistants. No footsteps.

"I agree," he said.

He raised one hand—and the air shimmered.

At first it was subtle. A distortion, like heat waves rising in a mirage. But then it expanded outward—an invisible dome blooming into existence. The hallway around them faded, swallowed by twilight. Concrete and drywall dissolved into a grey horizon—flat ground stretching in every direction beneath a starless sky.

A secluded space.

Elias’s senses flared.

"You made this?" he asked, warily scanning their new surroundings.

"It’s synthetic," Kaien replied. "Projected from my internal spatial core. Designed to isolate our interaction from external consequence."

"You didn’t want anyone to see what happens next," Elias said.

Kaien nodded. "I needed to confirm something."

He turned to face Elias directly now, expression void of any false warmth.

"You’re a variable I can’t identify. Your energy signature doesn’t match anything in my database—not divine, not demonic, not artificial. It’s not bound by dimensional physics."

Elias said nothing. He let Kaien continue.

"And yet," Kaien went on, "you walk the world with it wrapped around you like it’s nothing. Like you don’t even realize how rare you are."

"That’s because I don’t need a label to define what I am," Elias said firmly. "But you... I think you already know your label."

Kaien was quiet for a moment. Then, in a voice lower than before: "I am Model variant-X99, a hyper-adaptive android built for assimilation and replication of exceptional combat traits. My mission is observation, integration, and containment of unstable anomalies."

Elias’s posture didn’t change, but something cold settled over his expression.

"So I’m the anomaly?"

"Yes," Kaien said, eyes pulsing with pale blue light. "Or rather... your energy is."

Elias exhaled, not in fear, but as if settling into something inevitable.

"So that’s what this is. A test. You came to see if I’m a threat."

Kaien gave a single nod. "I needed to understand the parameters of your existence."

"And now?"

Kaien’s frame tensed. "Now... I must determine your risk level through direct engagement."

A silence settled between them.

Elias straightened, his voice calm. "So it’s a fight."

"It’s an evaluation," Kaien corrected.

"Call it whatever you want," Elias said as golden light flickered faintly in his eyes. "I’m not about to let anyone analyze me without my permission."

Kaien’s body shifted—subtle mechanisms humming beneath synthetic skin. His limbs locked into precision-ready angles. His eyes glowed brighter.

"Then prepare yourself," he said, "Elias—the anomaly."

The wind stirred. No sound came from the outside world. The air shimmered with tension.

And just as they both moved—