The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

"Guess that's my best bet," Mikhailis murmured. His fingers moved deftly, the tools clicking softly as he adjusted the Hypnoveil's settings. The device shifted its hue, casting an eerie blue light over the operative's face. The spectral tendrils curled like mist, delicately wrapping around the operative's head.

Rodion's calm voice guided him through the process.

<Neutralize loyalty pathways. Implant directives tied to the Radiant Order's immediate goals. Do not overwrite personality markers.>

The Hypnoveil pulsed gently, and Mikhailis leaned closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he monitored every subtle reaction. The operative's breathing slowed, their features slackening into an expression of blank compliance. The fractured sun emblem flickered faintly, responding to the Hypnoveil's influence with a subdued hum.

"Easy now," Mikhailis muttered, his voice more to himself than anyone else. His fingers brushed against the emblem, careful not to trigger its delicate mechanisms. "We're walking on thin ice here."

The interface overlay in his glasses lit up with a detailed map of neural pathways, each one glowing faintly as Rodion highlighted key areas of interest.

<Directive implantation at 64%. Progress steady. Probability of failsafe activation: reduced to 22%.>

Not good enough, Mikhailis thought, his jaw tightening. His mind raced as he adjusted the Hypnoveil's output, carefully calibrating its tendrils to weave around the emblem's latent energy fields.

"Okay, let's make this work," he whispered, his tone equal parts determination and frustration. The Hypnoveil shifted again, its glow intensifying as it synchronized with the operative's neural patterns.

The tension was palpable as Rodion's voice cut through the silence once more.

<Directive implantation at 92%. Proceeding with final phase.>

Mikhailis leaned in, his voice dropping to a deliberate murmur. "You'll return to your Overseer. You'll report everything is proceeding as planned. And you'll wait for my signal to act. Understood?"

The operative's lips moved sluggishly, forming the word, "Yes."

Just as Mikhailis finished securing the false directives, the fractured sun emblem on the operative's wrist flared to life. Its glow was no longer faint; it pulsed with an intensity that filled the clearing with sharp, jagged shadows. The air crackled faintly, charged with an ominous hum that sent a chill down his spine.

Rodion's voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and mechanical.

<Failsafe activation detected! Energy surge escalating. Containment breach imminent. Estimated detonation radius: 3 meters.>

"Of course," Mikhailis muttered, his voice laced with both irritation and grim determination. "Because nothing can ever go smoothly."

He sprang into action, his fingers moving to activate the Chimera Ants' formation protocols. "Scurabons, containment. Full enclosure. Now."

The Scurabons reacted instantly, their chitinous bodies a blur of motion as they closed in around the operative. Their armored forms encased the figure in a protective cocoon, creating an airtight perimeter. The glow from the emblem intensified, its light seeping through the tiny gaps between their legs like molten gold. The sound grew louder, an unearthly hum that made the hairs on Mikhailis's neck stand on end.

"Rodion, give me something," Mikhailis snapped, his hands already reaching for his toolkit. He pulled out a specialized dampening module, its surface covered in faint runes.

<Energy signatures suggest a dual-layered failsafe mechanism. Primary function: alert Radiant Order operatives within a 10-kilometer radius. Secondary function: self-destructive feedback loop targeting bearer and immediate vicinity. Probability of full activation: 87% within 15 seconds.>

"Great. So, we've got a ticking time bomb and a flare gun all in one," Mikhailis muttered, his mind racing. "How do we disarm it without turning this place into ground zero?"

Rodion's tone was calm but clipped.

<Recommendation: Isolate the emblem's power source. Surge disruptor required to sever the failsafe's connection to the bearer. Probability of success: 67%. Warning: High risk of destabilizing adjacent systems within the operative's body.>

Mikhailis gritted his teeth, his mind working at lightning speed. Adjacent systems? They've tied this thing to their entire nervous system. Clever and reckless.

"Fine," he said, kneeling closer to the operative. His hands moved with surgical precision as he placed the dampening module against the glowing emblem. "Scurabons, hold position. Do not let that thing move an inch."

The Scurabons' legs tightened around the operative, their exoskeletons gleaming faintly in the pulsing light. One of them extended a razor-sharp appendage, hovering it over the emblem as though awaiting further instructions.

"Rodion, talk to me," Mikhailis said, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. The pressure was palpable, the stakes impossibly high.

<Current status: Energy buildup at 92%. Critical threshold in 8 seconds. Surge disruptor calibrated at 73%. Recommend immediate action.>

"Not enough time for perfection," Mikhailis muttered. "What's the fallback if this doesn't work?"

<Containment radius: 3 meters. Probability of Mikhailis surviving: 0%.>

He barked a sharp laugh, his hands working faster as he adjusted the disruptor. "That's what I thought. Let's go for broke."

The dampening module began to hum faintly as it synced with the emblem's energy signature. Mikhailis could feel the heat radiating from the device, its glow now almost blinding. He squinted, his glasses overlaying streams of data that flickered too fast to fully process.

"Rodion, if you've got a prayer protocol, now's the time to activate it," he quipped, his tone tight but still managing a touch of humor.

<Irrelevant. Prayer lacks empirical efficacy. Recommend focusing on the task.>

"Touché," Mikhailis muttered, flipping a small switch on the disruptor. The device emitted a sharp, high-pitched whine as its internal mechanisms whirred to life. The emblem's light flickered, its intensity waning for a split second before surging back with renewed vigor.

"Rodion!" Mikhailis barked.

<Calibration successful. Disruptor engaged. Probability of containment: 94%. Proceed immediately.> Enjoy new tales from My Virtual Library Empire

He didn't need to be told twice. "Scurabon One, amputate the limb. Do it cleanly."

The lead Scurabon moved with terrifying precision, its razor-sharp appendage slicing through the operative's wrist in one swift motion. The emblem, severed from its bearer, hit the ground with a dull thud. Its glow intensified briefly before sputtering out, the ominous hum fading into an eerie silence.

Mikhailis let out a long breath, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned back on his heels. His heart pounded in his chest, but his expression betrayed nothing but calm satisfaction.

"Rodion, status?"

<Failsafe neutralized. Probability of detection reduced to 4%. Operative stabilized. Suggest disposing of the severed emblem immediately to prevent secondary activation.>

"Noted," Mikhailis said, gesturing to the Scurabons. "Take it out of here and bury it deep. I don't want to see that thing again."

The Scurabons moved swiftly, carrying the fractured sun emblem into the darkness. Mikhailis turned his attention back to the operative, their breathing steady and their face slack with unconscious compliance.

"You're lucky I'm this good," he muttered, his smirk returning as he adjusted his glasses. The Hypnoveil's tendrils retracted, their ghostly light dimming as the device powered down. Mikhailis stood, brushing off his hands as if shaking off the tension that had gripped him moments ago.

"Perfect," he said, his voice carrying an air of finality. "Let's get them out of here before I lose my patience."

____

By the time Mikhailis returned to the camp, the girls were still engrossed in their discussions. Estella caught sight of him and grinned.

"You missed the part where Cerys actually let me put some cream on her!"

Cerys's glare was sharp enough to cut steel, but the faint glow on her cheeks betrayed her reluctant participation.

"I didn't let you. You ambushed me."

"Details," Estella said breezily, waving her hand.

"The important thing is that you look fabulous."

Mikhailis chuckled, settling back against the tree.

"Glad to see you're all bonding. Maybe next time, I'll join in."

Estella's laughter rang out, and the conversation continued, light and unburdened. Mikhailis leaned his head back, letting his glasses flicker with faint data streams as the operative's retreat played out in the corner of his vision.

"Good," he murmured softly, his voice almost lost in the crackle of the fire.

"We got more cards to play now,"

Mikhailis closed his eyes briefly, letting out a quiet breath. The tension in his chest eased, though his mind remained sharp, already planning the next steps. The fire crackled on, its warm glow a fleeting comfort against the encroaching shadows.