UCT Ch 12

It was undeniable. There was no way it was a mistake. This was definitely a mind-melding phenomenon.

Richard Ashwood.

The top pilot of Bringerton is a mind-melder?

Inside Diana’s mind, which had gone blank like a whitewashed canvas, a deep, abyss-like voice resonated clearly.

[You. You’re a mind-melder.]

Unlike the previous time, when she had only sensed a faint presence, this was a more advanced form of telepathic mind-melding.

Diana took a step back. Before she could even think, her body instinctively recoiled in response to danger. At the same time, the figure in the darkness slowly stood up.

“Lieutenant?”

Sensing something strange, Owen tilted his head in curiosity. The man ignored Owen and walked straight toward Diana.

The closer he got, the stronger the mind-melding energy became. The muscles in her fingers tensed, the tips of her nerves felt as though they were burning. It was as if she had become a moth drawn to a flame, its wings catching fire.

When he finally stepped closer, Richard Ashwood’s figure was fully revealed in front of Diana.

The sunset light slanted through the doorway, casting a glow on the lieutenant. Even though Owen was quite tall, the man stood a full head above him. Diana had to crane her neck just to get a proper look at him.

The lieutenant was far from neat in appearance.

His forehead was covered with messy, jet-black hair. A faint stubble shadowed his well-defined jaw, as if he hadn’t shaved in about a day.

Dark shadows loomed under his eyes, and the whites of his eyes were tinged red—clear signs of prolonged sleeplessness.

And yet, he didn’t look disheveled.

There wasn’t a single unremarkable feature on his face. A straight, prominent nose, deep-set eyelids, and a sharp jawline. In a word, he was an unsettlingly striking man.

Standing right in front of Diana, the lieutenant slowly blinked as he looked down at her. His opaque gaze made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. The silence stretched unbearably long.

Diana awkwardly raised her hand in salute. The tips of her fingers trembled slightly.

“I… I’m Sergeant Diana Green, newly assigned to the unit.”

“I know.”

“……!”

“I heard you shot down a lost Arke pilot.”

“…Yes, th-that’s correct.”

Her voice kept trembling foolishly. She didn’t even have the presence of mind to close her mind-melding channel. As she struggled to regain her composure, a question reached her—both spoken aloud and inside her head at the same time.

“How old are you?”

[If you’re a mind-melder, are you from Arke?]

“……”

[…….]

“I asked how old you are, Sergeant.”

[I asked if you’re an Arkein, Sergeant.]

Two completely different questions thrown at her at the same time. Diana didn’t know which one to answer first.

Diana was a Bringerton citizen and a mind-melder. So was this man.

‘Yeah. It’s not impossible.’

Mind-melders weren’t completely absent from Bringerton.

There had been cases where Arke nobility married into Bringerton’s royal or noble families.

And after the failed “White Rebellion” against Dietrich I twenty-two years ago, many Arke nobles had sought asylum in Bringerton.

So, in theory, Bringerton-born mind-melders weren’t entirely impossible.

Lieutenant Ashwood seemed to be one of those cases. His father was a count, so perhaps he had Arke lineage from his mother’s side.

But Diana wasn’t like that. That was the problem.

As far as she knew, there wasn’t a single Arkein in the Green family. She was a common-born woman, raised entirely in Campton, with not a drop of Arke blood in her veins.

No matter what excuse she gave, it would only raise suspicion.

Diana hesitantly gave her answer.

“I’m twenty-two years old.”

[I’m from Bringerton.]

A rough gaze swept across Diana’s face, as if measuring something with strict precision.

“Is that really so.”

“Yes, I’m twenty-two years old.”

For a while, nothing came—neither through speech nor mind-melding.

The silence was unbearable, so much so that she almost wished for sharp accusations instead.

The man’s expression was unreadable. His dark eyes were like thick shields, concealing any emotion.

🌷🌷🌷

Even while performing such a powerful level of mind-melding, she couldn’t read a single emotion from him.

That was because he was using his power solely to crush her—to overpower, not to communicate.

It reminded her of when she had been tortured in solitary confinement.

Her breath caught in her throat.

[Liar.]

His narrowed eyes became thin as a rapier. At the same time, the energy from the mind-melding turned even more violent.

Like a beast asserting dominance, Ashwood mercilessly shattered Diana’s defenses and invaded her mind.

He dug through, tore apart, and shook her to the core.

She tried to step back, but her weakened legs refused to move. She was as helpless as a deer caught in a snare.

[S…Stop.]

Diana, unable to endure the pain, found herself begging.

She didn’t care if she was expelled from this place or punished in any way—she just wanted to escape the immediate threat.

She had endured days of torture in Parnassus, but now, she had no such resolve.

Right now, she was just an ordinary person, desperately struggling to survive.

[Stop, please. I was born and raised in Bringerton. I am a Bringerton citizen.]

[Still lying. Are you a spy sent by the Emperor?]

Her gasping breath completely halted. Diana’s vision went black.

🌷🌷🌷

In an instant, countless images flickered past her eyes, like frames of a motion picture.

Diana Green, volunteering for the Air Support Division.

Diana Green, frozen in fear under enemy bombardment.

Diana Green, frantically working at The Dancing Mermaid.

Diana Green, being confessed to by her childhood friend, Jerome Edgerton.

Diana Green, unconscious on a hospital bed.

Diana Green, laughing as she flew a kite over distant fields.

Diana Green, sitting blankly at a funeral.

Diana Green, lying on the street after being thrown from a vehicle.

The fast-moving images came to a stop, showing a young Diana Green sprawled on the ground, bleeding.

Her small limbs twitched. A hushed voice, whispering to herself, could be heard.

Then, the scene froze.

And then, it began to play in reverse.

The bloodied child grew into a girl with braided red hair.

Her hair was cut short, then grew long again.

She became taller, stronger. Her once bright face grew darker and more shadowed.

And then, that girl became the present-day Diana Green.

[…What a pathetic life.]

A voice, tinged with an odd sense of disappointment, rang in her mind.

Diana awoke from the fleeting vision, returning to the barracks of the Pegasus Squadron.
The mind-melding was abruptly severed, and a sharp dizziness overtook her, like jumping out of a spinning aircraft. She staggered, and Owen quickly caught her in alarm.

“…….”

“Green, are you okay? Lieutenant, you must be exhausted after today’s battle and the long journey.”

“…I-I’m fine.”

Standing upright again, Diana looked up at the man before her.

There was no trace of hostility left on his face.

Only exhaustion—deep, weary, and empty.

He had pried into the entirety of her life and simply reacted like this?

So, now that he had confirmed she wasn’t a spy, he didn’t care anymore?

Fury surged deep within Diana.

The fact that she couldn’t even curse at him through mind-melding was even more frustrating.