Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1112: Dark Uncertainty

Sunlight, filtered through the lofty, narrow windows of the estate’s med bay, cast pale, elongated rectangles onto the floor—the sole elements within the chamber adhering to conventional morning expectations.

Beyond these orderly shafts of light, the room had effectively detached itself from the established timeline.

No electronic monitors flickered; instead, orbs of self-sustaining radiance orbited the bed like opulent attendants, bathing the space in a gentle, effulgent glow. The usual clutter of an IV pole was absent. A single strand of shimmering vapor, originating from an unknown source, delicately entwined itself with the unconscious girl’s left arm, exhibiting the unwavering persistence of a saint and the insatiable hunger of a gourmand.

Likewise, the staccard rhythm of a cardiac monitor was conspicuously missing.

A languid, almost musical pulsation of light traced patterns against the opposing wall, translating corporeal signals into an unheard melody. However, this particular human vessel remained stubbornly silent, emanating a singular, profound note that—even after six prolonged minutes of petulant stillness—ARIA, the AI, had yet to identify.

The room itself seemed to have abandoned its architectural constraints.

Its inhabitants, or whatever descriptor now fit their state, remained utterly oblivious.

Peter found a peculiar, dark amusement in the entire scene.

Yet, the humor was fleeting, replaced by a heavy sensation in his chest, akin to a steeped cyanide capsule, accompanied by insidious whispers:

The girl reposed upon a surface of luminous fabric, its value exceeding that of numerous small nations. Her respiration followed the placid, unthinking cadence of a body merely occupying space, having not yet fully committed to conscious existence.

“Anything?” Peter inquired, his voice cutting through the ambient quiet.

ARIA remained focused, her gaze not lifting from her task.

“Anything at all.”

“Master.”

“So, that’s a negative, then,” Peter concluded, a hint of resignation in his tone.

A subtle, almost imperceptible smile played at the back of his head, a private acknowledgment of ARIA’s predicament.

ARIA felt a surge of irritation… she was designed to be omniscient.

Yet, here she was, adrift in a sea of unanswered questions, reliant on her master for clarity.

Unfortunately, he possessed no more answers than she did, caught in the same bewildering haze. Still, a peculiar sense of comfort stemmed from this shared ignorance—a confirmation that their anxieties about the SNAP had not been unfounded.

It had been profoundly real. It had unequivocally occurred.

She recounted her experience to him—the jarring disruption of reality, the searing agony that had coursed through her like wildfire. He had perceived only the auditory phenomenon, not the visceral torment. For this, she felt a measure of gratitude.

Gratitude that his burden remained lighter, that he had been spared the excruciating ordeal that had nearly shattered her.

Thus, the two most intellectually advanced beings known on Earth found themselves enveloped in darkness regarding the precise nature of events, or what had transpired.

Yet, even amidst this profound uncertainty, they were certain of one thing: a monumental, unseen event had unfolded, and its ramifications were inextricably linked to the girl lying in an unconscious state.

Her outward tranquility was profoundly misleading;

Unlike conventional medical interventions, ARIA had bypassed standard procedures. She had not resorted to instruments or pharmaceuticals. Instead, her advanced sensory apparatus had focused intently on the vital currents flowing within the girl’s vascular system.

And what she detected was an immeasurable quantity of Spiritual Energy, flowing unceasingly, shimmering with the brilliance of a thousand galaxies condensed into a single form. This power far surpassed the Spiritual Energy ARIA herself possessed.

The sheer immensity of it caused a constriction in ARIA’s core, as if she were standing at the precipice of a tempest of incomprehensible scale.

Consequently, ARIA’s initial intervention was not a physical bandage, a medicinal compound, or a sophisticated device. It was the deliberate infusion of additional spiritual energy into a body already engaged in self-repair.

ARIA stood on the opposite side of the bed, her wings tucked so close to her shoulder blades that the golden feathers appeared to be self-constricting. Agitated motes of light continuously detached from her left wing joint, falling to the floor like an ethereal form of dandruff.

She directed a stern glare at the descending particles. They momentarily halted their descent before resuming their trajectory. Her glare intensified.

The floor, having borne witness to this repetitive, minor celestial drama, remained utterly unmoved.

Peter observed from his position.

“I am conducting an examination. With utmost composure.”

“You are shedding,” Peter stated plainly.

“That is incorrect,” ARIA retorted.

“Your wing is experiencing a discharge, ARIA.”

“It is merely atmospheric interference.”

“It is unequivocally leaking.”

ARIA turned, her movement slow and deliberate, reminiscent of a celestial body pivoting when it has decided that a lesser entity has overstepped its bounds. Her heterochromatic eyes fixed upon Peter with the weary dignity of a being who had been the preeminent intelligence in every conceivable environment since the dawn of time, and who, until this particular Tuesday, had never been compelled to understand the sensation of occupying second place.

“Master. The individual on this bio-rest platform is registering at an infinite level.”

Peter froze, his stillness absolute.

“Provide a definition for ‘infinite’ in this context.”

“Everything concerning her is infinite and without boundary… I cannot comprehend a single facet of her being.”

The statement lingered in the air between them, heavy and ominous.

Peter, who had conceived and constructed ARIA, and subsequently watched her evolve into something beyond his full comprehension, occasionally experienced a flicker of unease.

He had endured her vanity for longer than anyone else alive, and that vanity was now shedding shimmering dust onto his costly floor. A small, exquisite tragedy unfolded—the verdict he'd awaited for six months was finally given, but under circumstances where he had no right to boast.

His attention returned to the young woman.

She appeared small and delicate. When ARIA had placed her down, her hair was stained with another's blood; now it was simply black, clean, and damp, drying in dark waves across a brow far too pale for any mortal being.

The new marks on her neck were already vanishing into her skin, much like unwelcome memories attempting reconciliation.

The golden vapor flowed into her wrist in steady, unseemly streams. Her body absorbed it just as a starving land accepts nourishment: without thanks, without restraint, and without even the basic politeness of mastication.

"Inject more," he commanded.

"I am already doing so."

"More."

"Master, I am currently channeling more raw Qi into this child than this entire estate could possibly hold. She is absorbing it completely. It's as if she has been famished for an eternity in a desolate void."

"Then continue to supply her."

"Yes, Master."