Chapter 2267

At that moment, a bitter, biting wind swept across Asher's face, as if slicing through the night.

"Matrix." The long-forgotten title echoed like a ghostly whisper from distant memories shrouded in blood and storms. Yet the mere sound of it sent shockwaves through Asher's chest, reverberating through every fiber of his being.

The voice had something familiar about it, but he could not place it.

"Who are you? A former subordinate from Overcast?" Asher turned his back to the others, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

"Ash..." Bella, noticing the sudden shift in his expression, felt her heart clench with worry.

"Oh, Matrix, so quick to forget," Elio's voice slithered through the phone, cold and venomous, each word a stab to Asher's already frayed nerves. "It seems no one else matters to you except Kairos, right?"

"You're... Elio?!" Asher's mind raced, sharp pain clawing at his chest. The darkness outside pressed in like jagged walls, closing in from all directions, suffocating him.

Kairos was Asher's hidden love, the scar that had never fully healed. He had buried that pain deep-too deep to touch, too raw to confront.

The sudden call and Arnold's absence stirred an overwhelming sense of dread

line. "I'm sorry,

planning to do?" Asher's hand clenched into a fist, veins

of you, and he will never rest in peace. I won't let someone as pure as Dr. Larson fall for your disgusting

"Elio! I know... I know how much you've hated me all these years. If you have a grudge, come after me, but

a substitute. Don't you find it laughable to pretend like

hearing the cruel truth, and his voice cracked as he roared, "No! He's not a substitute! He's

not a substitute? Then what was Kairos? You promised that you'd

rage boiled over, transforming him into something primal, something

with cold disdain. "Ever since Kairos's death, every day of my life

with tension. Elio's voice sounded again, low and chilling. "Your precious Dr. Larson is in the villa where you once lived with Kairos. You

before adding with an almost mocking tone, 'T'm sure this birthday of yours will

The line went dead.

Without a second thought, he bolted from the villa, leaping into his black sports

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