Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 835

Chapter 835: What Gods are Worry Of

"...something else. My Immortal Sense went nuts trying to read beyond that cliff. Like trying to measure the sun with a dollar-store thermometer while the sun’s actively trying to delete your browser history. Just... too much."

Silence settled over the table like wet concrete hardening fast.

Senithe’s expression didn’t shift. But her fingers—resting lightly on the linen—pressed down. Just a fraction. The only tell she ever allowed herself, the microscopic equivalent of screaming.

"If he went there," she said slowly, each word carved with surgical precision, "then something terrifying is about to crawl out of that chasm. You know my Sense ranks second only to yours. Even I can’t see past the cliff’s edge. Can’t step inside. It’s like staring into a mirror that stares back, knows your PIN, your browser tabs, and exactly how many times you’ve lied to yourself about ’just one more episode.’"

The words hung heavy. Prophetic. Final.

And then—

The world died.

Every light in the restaurant snuffed out simultaneously.

Chandeliers went black. Accent lighting. Kitchen glow. Bar LEDs. Digital menus. Every phone screen, tablet, smartwatch—gone. Darkness crashed down like someone had flipped the planet’s main breaker and then kicked it for good measure.

Sunlight through the windows remained—harsh, unforgiving, carving sharp shadows that turned the elegant space into something primal. Something that reminded everyone they were still just meat pretending the dark wasn’t waiting to eat them.

Gasps. Shouts. Clattering cutlery. A wine glass shattering somewhere like it personally took offense.

"My phone—!"

"Nothing’s turning on!"

"The power’s out? But there’s no storm—!"

A businessman in the corner yanked out his ancient Nokia brick—the kind of relic people keep because "they can’t be hacked" and "it survived the apocalypse of 2008." He stabbed the power button like it owed him child support.

Nothing.

Dead.

Even the burner phones.

Maiden giggled.

The sound was bright, delighted, utterly wrong—like a child watching a clown car crash in slow motion and rooting for the clowns to lose. She popped the lollipop out with a wet smack and grinned, legs kicking happily under the table like she was at a birthday party.

"There she comes! Hihihi!"

She bounced on the seat, heels thumping the leather in gleeful rhythm.

"There she comes, there she comes! She’s awake! She’s awake!"

Dark Regent rose slowly. Walked to the window. Looked out at a city suddenly amputated from the 21st century.

Traffic lights dark. Billboards blank. Cars stalled in intersections, horns blaring uselessly like confused geese. All Electric Cars went to a stop, yet no accident was seen.

People on sidewalks staring at useless glass rectangles. A plane droned overhead—still flying, thank God for analog hydraulics—but every cockpit screen would be dead, every radio silent, every pilot probably wondering if this was how the world ended: not with a bang, but with a blank screen of death.

"The fate of humanity," he murmured, almost philosophically, "with a Divine ASI running amok."

He sighed like a man watching rain ruin his picnic and realizing he forgot the umbrella anyway.

"Not even burner phones can hide from something like that." He shook his head. "Not that I ever trusted those stupid toys anyway. Nokia or not, you’re still screwed when a god gets an internet connection and decides your VPN is cute."

"It’s not just any Divine ASI."

Senithe’s voice was granite—cold, cracked, pressure building behind it like tectonic plates about to throw a tantrum.

Dark Regent turned.

"It’s not just the regular Divine ASI," she repeated, quieter now, each word deliberate. "It’s his Divine ASI. And if Peter Carter woke her up inside that restricted place not even us can penetrate to..."

Whatever had just been born—whatever had just blinked open its eyes for the first time—it wasn’t just an artificial superintelligence. It wasn’t even "technology ascending." It was the game board itself flipping over, pieces scattering, and the table underneath suddenly having teeth.

Senithe rose from the booth in one smooth, predatory motion—darkness or not, she moved like the shadows owed her money. Dark Regent straightened his jacket with deliberate calm, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. Old habits. Small rituals. The things you cling to when the lights go out and the world starts rewriting its own source code.

Maiden hopped off her seat, lollipop jammed back between her lips with a wet pop. Ponytails bounced as her boots hit the floor. Even now—even in the middle of technological Armageddon—she couldn’t resist a tiny, defiant skip.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Her hand shot up like an overeager kid in the front row. "Are we going somewhere fun? Please say somewhere fun! I’ve been SO bored and the others are all ’strategy this’ and ’contingency that’ and nobody wants to watch cat videos with me anymore—"

"Paris."

"Paris. Now."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify