Chapter 55 - Would you like to try?

Not in any kind of hurry, Damian waited patiently for Alita's return. It took her a good hour to clean herself, but eventually, she reemerged from the bathroom, once again looking like a living person, sighing contently and smiling. "Haaah, that does feel good…" 

Yet, as soon as she noticed Damian's curious gaze, her face distorted back into a scowl. "Still here, I see…" 

"Of course," he smiled charmingly, his gaze firmly focused on Alita'se eyes. "How could I not be? I was anxiously anticipating to see you all cleaned up, and I was not disappointed. You look beautiful, Alita." 

Although her looks lacked the appeal of Luna, Lilith, and Lavinia, at least in his mind, she was still quite alluring. Her blue eyes were clear and filled with fierce intelligence, as long, matching blue hair fell down to her hips. Her body remained a little damp from the shower, and she was still drying her hair with a towel. 

She now wore the clothes he'd prepared for her, which he'd taken out of the storage space in his catalyst. As a seasoned manipulator and philanderer, Damian was always prepared for any scenario… including the possibility of providing clothes for a female companion. 

Of course, these clothes had come from Eryndor and reflected their quality and style. They consisted of a colourful, cropped bomber jacket and black halter top, which left her midriff exposed, as well as wide, comfortable cargo pants paired with sturdy boots. 

Regardless, neither of them pulled attention to her clothes. Damian felt no need to gloat over his small victory, and Alita naturally wanted to dismiss the whole thing as unimportant. 

After his compliment, Alita's glare remained locked in place, but her body betrayed her—a light blush spread on her cheeks, irritating her more than his words. In the end, she was still a young woman, and Damian's handsome face and charismatic nature were punching below their weight level when confronted with her contrarianism. 

But she quickly recovered and growled at him aggressively. "Don't try your silky language on me, glowrat! I'm not looking for approval!" 

"Such harsh language, Alita," Damian smiled gently, recognizing the slur she used for Aetherborn. 

Yet, before Alita could respond, Damian's attitude shifted significantly. A deep, inborn pride filled his demeanour, and his voice lowered an octave. "But I'm no mere human, Alita, and neither are you. Not anymore…" 

Alita was a little taken aback and appeared sceptical. She stopped trying her hair and tossed the towel away, but before she could ask any questions, Damian brought her a second surprise. 

"Besides," he grinned, having lost his previous sombre, prideful tone. "Í'd be closer to one of those you call 'Aethersynths' than a 'Glowrat'." 

At the same time, he underscored his words by pulling Nox Aeternum from his body and presented Alita with what was quite obviously the most powerful and intricate catalyst she'd ever seen. 

This time, he'd pulled it out unsheathed, causing its dangerous, black, lightly curved edge to gleam in the low light. 

Alita had seen catalysts before—her sister had one, for example. It was sleek and elegant, like an extension of her body. But this? This was something else. 

The air felt different around it. The blade drank in the dim light, its black edge gleaming like a predator's eye. The gems embedded in the slender hilt pulsed, not just with power—but with presence. 

"Woah…" she muttered, finally lost for words and awed when she laid eyes on his catalyst. "Where the hell did you get that?!" 

"Had it since I was born," Damian shrugged, obviously not going into much more than that. Then, to Alita's surprise, Damian suddenly grasped the blade's edge and extended the hilt towards Alita with a mysterious smile on his lips. "Want to hold it?" 

Alita stiffened. Her gaze snapped to his, trying to discover the trick he was playing here. Then she moved—quick, precise, faster than thought. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt before her brain could question it. 

Resting the weapon on her open palms, she inspected it with greed and desire. "Why would you just hand this to me?!" she muttered without taking her eyes off the sword. 

Damian chuckled after he pulled back his now-empty hand, and shrugged. "And why not? It's not going to help you kill me, and even in the extremely unlikely event you managed to steal it from me, it's still bound to me and thus useless to you." 

Immediately looking to test that hypothesis, Alita suddenly gripped the sword normally and swung it at Damian's neck with silent and agile speed… 

The sword cut through the air—her reflexes honed to kill. But her grip faltered. Alita's muscles locked, stopping the blade a hairsbreadth from Damian's throat. A sharp, visceral frustration surged through her, like hitting a wall she hadn't seen coming. 

Her fingers clenched the hilt tighter, her arms taut with resistance she shouldn't feel, and yet did. Damian smiled, seemingly unbothered. "See…?" 

He could have avoided her swing if he wanted to, but that would have undermined the confident invincibility that he was trying to establish in Alita's perception of him. 

The reason he could sit there, unflinchingly, while a sword flew at his neck could be anything from nerves of steel to arrogance or both. Damian himself believed it was pure conviction, a hint of madness born from ambition, and trust in his mother's knowledge about the bond. 

That said, a tiny trickle of sweat still leaked down his back… 

Meanwhile, Alita snorted and went back to inspecting the sword without a word. Her second attempt to kill him had come and gone in a fleeting moment that neither of them seemed interested in discussing. 

"Anyway," Damian continued as if nothing had happened. "I also wanted to give you a chance to experience what it feels like to channel Myst. Assuming you've never done so before." 

In his head, he automatically translated the universal standard of 'myst' he was used to, to the Earth term of 'aether', so Alita didn't seem confused. 

Curious and surprised, yet sceptical, Alita looked up at him. "What? How…? I can't use a catalyst that's bound to someone else…" 

A mysterious smile spread on Damian's lips, pleased that she hadn't. "Sure you can," he explained with pursed lips. "You just need my permission, which I've already given." 

Then, in a tone as innocuous as possible, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did your sister never give you the opportunity to do this?" 

Alita's eyes widened, and she recoiled defensively. "W— What? She said it was impossible! Any rumours of such a thing were fake!" 

"Oh, well," Damian smiled gently. "I'm sure she had a good reason to keep it from you, but feel free to try it now. If you don't know how, then let me explain…" 

Of course, there was a good reason for it, and Damian knew perfectly well what that reason was. After all, channelling myst gave you a rush of power that was impossible to compare, especially the first time you did it. 

It wasn't addicting in the sense that you'd lose all sense of reason or eventually be unable to function without it, but… it was still an unforgettable experience, at least for anyone craving power. Doing it just once would absolutely create a desire to do so again, and that was what Damian wanted and what Alita's sister likely tried to avoid. 

Catalysts were rare on Earth, and the chance existed that Alita would never get one of her own. Letting her experience it once, without a means to let her do so consistently, was just cruel. Fortunately, Damian had the means to do so… for a price. Giving her a taste of this power now would help him significantly. 

At the same time, planting a seed of doubt about her sister in Alita's mind would shake the foundation of trust and mutual defiance against outside control that they'd built up together. 

Watching her closely, he noticed a flicker of hesitation. A pause that hadn't been there before. Damian smiled inwardly. He didn't need her to turn on her sister. Just to wonder. Just enough to crack the foundation and make his next steps a little easier…