Genetic Ascension novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Turncoats

Sylas had been thinking about a great many things in the last day, and he felt that he had cobbled together some puzzle pieces.

For one, just to make it here, one had to have a certain status, or at the very least be willing to take such a risk.

A single flight hour for a pilot costed thousands. Even if you were near the estate, relatively speaking, you'd easily be five figures down the drain for this single trip—at best. No normal family could charter a plane on a whim like this.

That was just the first filter, though. The second filter, and arguably the more important one, was daring to come in the first place.

Objectively speaking, his grandfather's words were ridiculous.

An apocalyptic event? Only known by the truest elites of the world? Next thing the old man would be saying was that the Illuminati was real too. _{freewёbnoνel.com}

However, even though it sounded ridiculous, there were countless methods of checking the veracity of the claim. Sylas' method was just one. If you knew what you were looking for, Sylas could think of at least half a dozen other viable methods.

There might be some among the families that came today who were just looking to come up in the world. Maybe they thought the Browns would provide them an opportunity to soar beyond their current station.

In Sylas' opinion, these people should be the minority. The rest were similar to himself, sharp-eyed and looking to satiate their curiosity.

The families were led into a large dining hall, each assigned to their own tables.

'Separated again,' Sylas noted.

It was subtle, but there seemed to be a conscious effort to make it difficult for these various small families to interact with one another and start asking questions.

Sylas didn't believe there was anything sinister about it, at least not yet. It was more likely to be a form of crowd control.

A full three-course meal was served and the dining hall was filled with sounds of quiet chatter.

Sylas' eyes landed on a few figures at the head tables, three in particular that he recognized instantly.

Lucius Brown, Malachi Brown, and Astrid Brown, two men and a woman, each unique in their own way. They all shared one long table, facing the dining room as though this was the Renaissance Era and they were Kings and Queens.

Oddly enough, they seemed to have no intention of addressing everyone. In a situation where everyone was meticulously following etiquette, this action, or inaction rather, stuck out like a sore thumb.

Dessert was served, a nice light and airy cheesecake drizzled with strawberry jam. It looked delicious, though Sylas didn't eat it. He tended to stay away from sugar. He found that his body was a bit too sensitive to it.

His little sister, though, happily stole away his piece. He really didn't know where this little munchkin found the room in that bite-sized body of hers.

Someone stood from their seat.