Requirement: Consume the Seven.
Aiden stared at the words.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
They did not change.
The message remained suspended before his eyes with the same cold indifference as every other notification he had received since the Adaptive Body awakened.
No emotion.
No explanation.
No concern for what those words actually meant.
Seven-source evolution pathway available.
Requirement: Consume the Seven.
Aiden slowly lowered the hand holding the living crown.
“No.” Marcus looked at him.
“What?” Aiden did not answer immediately.
He read the message one last time.
Then dismissed it.
The golden letters disappeared.
The option did not.
He could still feel it.
Somewhere beneath his incomplete spiritual core, seven distant signatures burned like stars.
Aurelius.
Malachor.
Varkesh.
Lysara.
Three others whose names he did not know.
The moment the pathway had appeared, his Adaptive Body had recognized all of them differently.
Not as people.
Not as monsters.
As compatible material.
That realization made his stomach turn.
Malachor watched his face.
“You saw it.” Aiden looked toward him.
“Saw what?” “The pathway.” The Firstborn’s tone was flat.
He already knew the answer.
Aiden’s silence confirmed it.
Malachor gave a bitter laugh.
“Of course.” The Primordial Chimera finally moved inside Aiden’s soul.
Its presence had remained strangely quiet since the recording appeared.
Now it pressed forward carefully.
AIDEN— “No.” The thought came sharply.
The ancient beast stopped.
Aiden’s hands tightened.
“No explanations yet.” YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND— “That is becoming your favorite sentence.” Marcus frowned.
“Cross.” Aiden forced himself to breathe.
Sophia had moved closer.
Her eyes studied him with that unnerving calm she used whenever she realized something was worse than everyone else thought.
“What exactly did your ability show you?” Aiden glanced at Malachor.
The Firstborn said nothing.
He was waiting.
Aiden hated that.
Hated the silence.
Hated the throne.
Hated the ancient recording.
Most of all, he hated that some tiny instinct inside his body had reacted to the pathway with interest.
Not hunger.
Not yet.
Potential.
His Adaptive Body had looked at seven living beings and thought: Possible evolution.
Aiden spoke.
“It says there is a way for me to evolve using all seven.” Marcus’s expression darkened.
Sophia understood almost immediately.
“Using?” Aiden looked at her.
“Consuming.” Theodore exhaled quietly.
No one joked.
No one needed to.
Malachor looked toward the throne.
“Then the Hall recognizes you as a convergence candidate.” Aiden’s eyes narrowed.
“A what?” Malachor turned.
“One capable of rebuilding the First Flesh.” The Primordial Chimera surged.
MALACHOR.
The Firstborn bared his teeth.
“What?” YOU SPEAK OF THINGS YOU NEVER UNDERSTOOD.
“I understood enough to know you intended to feed us to one another.” The words struck the Hall like a blade.
Aurelius’s distant presence trembled through the pack bond.
The Primordial Chimera recoiled.
Aiden felt something beneath its anger.
Shame.
He was beginning to recognize it.
That irritated him more.
“You knew.” The Chimera remained silent.
Aiden stepped toward the throne.
“You knew the Adaptive Body might eventually recognize them as material.” NO.
Malachor laughed.
Aiden ignored him.
“Did you know?” The Chimera answered more slowly.
I KNEW YOUR BODY COULD RECOGNIZE PRIMORDIAL ESSENCE.
“That is not what I asked.” I DID NOT KNOW THE PATHWAY WOULD APPEAR THIS EARLY.
Aiden froze.
“This early?” Marcus’s eyes hardened.
Sophia looked sharply toward Aiden.
Malachor’s smile disappeared.
Theodore muttered, “That was not the correct answer.” Aiden’s spiritual flame flared.
“You expected it.” The Primordial Chimera did not respond.
“You expected my body to eventually tell me to consume them.” YES.
The answer came quietly.
Aiden closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he simply stood there.
He remembered Aurelius.
Chained beneath the ruined Hall for longer than human civilization had existed.
Still guarding a prison because his father had once asked him to.
He remembered young Aurelius in the trial.
Small.
Injured.
Calling for Father.
He remembered Seraph asking Malachor whether they had won.
Lysara’s silver thread.
Varkesh’s rage.
Even Malachor.
An ancient murderer, perhaps.
Arrogant.
Violent.
Dangerous.
But also someone who had carried forty-nine children when given a second chance.
Someone who had stepped between Aiden and Varkesh without thinking.
And his body wanted to eat them.
Aiden opened his eyes.
“No.” The Primordial Chimera stirred.
Aiden repeated it aloud.
“No.” Malachor watched him.
“You should consider the pathway before rejecting it.” Aiden turned so quickly that Malachor’s claws emerged on instinct.
“You want me to consider eating you?” Malachor’s expression remained calm.
“I want you to understand what you are refusing.” “That’s easy.” “No.” The Firstborn stepped closer.
“You think this is morality.” Aiden stared.
“It is.” “It is survival.” “There are always people who say that right before doing something terrible.” Malachor’s red eyes narrowed.
“You do not understand what the First Flesh was.” “Then tell me.” Malachor glanced inward, toward the presence of the Primordial Chimera.
The ancient beast did not stop him this time.
That alone told Aiden something had changed.
Malachor walked toward one of the broken pillars.
“The title was never merely Father’s name.” Aiden followed.
Sophia and Marcus remained nearby.
Theodore had moved toward the old recording, examining the seven egg-shaped figures frozen within the golden projection.
Malachor touched one cracked carving.
“The First Flesh was a biological answer to extinction.” Aiden frowned.
“Explain.” “Our kind did not evolve as other species do.” Malachor’s claw traced the carving.
“We did not wait generations.” The Primordial Chimera spoke through Aiden.
WE ADAPTED WITHIN A SINGLE LIFE.
Aiden knew that part.
His own body had already demonstrated it.
Heat.
Kinetic force.
Void exposure.
Spiritual attacks.
Every near-death encounter became a lesson written into flesh.
Malachor continued.
“But adaptation has a cost.” Sophia answered before Aiden.
“Specialization.” Malachor looked toward her.
“Yes.” She continued.
“The more a biological system adapts toward one extreme, the harder it becomes to preserve incompatible traits.” Aiden remembered the crown.
The archive had been created because old adaptations could be lost.
Malachor nodded.
“Father could survive almost anything.” His voice carried bitterness.
“But not everything at once.” The golden projection shifted.
The younger Primordial Chimera appeared fighting something enormous beyond a red horizon.
Its body transformed repeatedly.
Armor.
Wings.
Aquatic structures.
A skeletal frame designed for extreme gravity.
Then another form replaced them.
Then another.
Each survival demanded change.
Each change erased pieces of what came before.
The projection ended.
Malachor looked toward Aiden.
“The seven of us were designed differently.” Aiden looked at the seven eggs.
“How?” “Each preserved a permanent foundation.” The throne responded.
Seven symbols appeared.
Aiden felt the pack bond react.
One after another.
Malachor pointed to the first.
“Dominion.” His symbol.
A horned crown.
The second glowed.
Aurelius.
A golden shield.
“Stability.” The third.
Varkesh.
A red fang surrounded by lightning.
“Destruction.” Aiden raised one brow.
“That seems obvious.” Malachor ignored him.
The fourth symbol glowed silver.
Lysara.
A feather surrounding an eye.
“Perception.” Three remained dark.
Malachor looked at them.
“The others carried regeneration, transformation, and spiritual continuity.” Aiden’s chest tightened.
Seven foundational aspects.
Together— The Adaptive Body reacted.
Not with another message.
With understanding.
His own power was incomplete because it tried to do everything without a stable foundation.
Every adaptation had to be temporary or dangerous.
The seven children were different.
Each embodied something permanent.
If combined… Aiden immediately rejected the thought.
“No.” Malachor almost smiled.
“You understand now.” “I understand why my ability wants them.” “Then you understand why Father created the convergence.” “No.” Aiden turned toward the projection.
“I understand why he thought it was useful.” The distinction mattered.
The Primordial Chimera remained quiet.
Aiden pointed toward the seven eggs.
“You created people as spare parts.” THEY WERE NOT PEOPLE WHEN I CREATED THEM.
Aiden stared inward.
“That defense was somehow worse.” The Chimera growled.
THE FIRST EGGS CONTAINED DESIGNED INSTINCTS.
NO MEMORIES.
NO PERSONALITIES.
“But they developed them.” Silence.
“They became people.” YES.
The answer was barely more than a whisper.
Aiden felt the old memory before the Chimera could stop it.
Seven hatchlings.
Small.
Awkward.
Different.
Malachor biting everything.
Aurelius sleeping against the Primordial Chimera’s tail.
A silver creature that had to be Lysara watching everything from a high ledge.
Varkesh fighting his own reflection in a pool.
Another cub repeatedly shedding its skin and changing shapes to make the others laugh.
Something with crystalline bones repairing a wounded sibling.
A pale serpentine child wrapping around the whole group at night.
The memory was warm.
Painfully warm.
Then the Chimera withdrew it.
Aiden stood very still.
“You stopped seeing them as parts.” The ancient beast said nothing.
Malachor did.
“Too late.” The words were not angry.
That made them hurt more.
The Firstborn looked toward the old recording.
“The war had already begun.” Aiden turned.
“What war?” Malachor’s gaze shifted toward the place where the Hollow One had emerged.
“The one Father believed we could only win by rebuilding the First Flesh.” Theodore stopped examining the projection.
“You’ve mentioned wars several times.” He looked toward Malachor.
“Different wars?” Malachor’s expression became grim.
“No.” Aiden felt the Primordial Chimera react.
Theodore noticed.
“The same war.” “Yes.” Aiden looked toward the darkened Hall.
“The Hollow One?” “Part of it.” Malachor’s answer came slowly.
“The Hollow was hunger.” He looked toward the broken dimensional ceiling.
“Others were worse.” Aiden’s instincts told him not to push further.
Not because he did not want the answer.
Because the story was still too large.
The world outside these walls was still New Haven.
Hunters.
Gates.
People trying to survive.
He did not need star-eating enemies and primordial wars becoming immediate problems.
Not yet.
Aiden looked at the Hall.
“We deal with what’s in front of us.” Malachor frowned.
“You reject knowledge?” “No.” “I reject panicking about enemies that aren’t currently tearing open my city.” Marcus nodded once.
“A sensible sentence.” Aiden looked toward him.
“Enjoy it.” “I am.” The throne pulsed.
Everyone turned.
The inheritance challenge had not finished.
Golden words appeared.
CLAIMANTS REMAINING: TWO Aiden sighed.
“I almost forgot.” Malachor flexed his claws.
“I did not.” The throne waited.
A single seat.
One sovereign.
Aiden looked at Malachor.
“You still want to fight?” “Yes.” “After all of that?” “Yes.” “Why?” Malachor’s answer was immediate.
“Because understanding you does not make you worthy.” Aiden stared.
Malachor continued.
“You broke the Hall’s trials through interpretation.” He pointed toward the crown in Aiden’s hand.
“You stabilized a weapon Father failed to control.” Then toward the sealed sky.
“You survived Varkesh.” His red eyes hardened.
“All impressive.” Aiden waited.
“But none prove you can rule.” “I don’t want to rule you.” That stopped Malachor.
The Firstborn’s expression changed.
“What?” “I never asked for this throne.” “The Hall recognized you.” “I didn’t.” “The crown accepted you.” “That doesn’t mean I want to be king.” Malachor stared at him as though Aiden had just claimed the sky was edible.
“You possess a claim to the First Flesh.” “I possess a body that apparently has terrible ideas.” “You could command the pack.” “I don’t want to command the pack.” Aurelius’s distant golden presence pulsed.
Lysara’s thread returned faintly.
Even the Primordial Chimera seemed surprised.
Malachor stepped forward.
“Then what do you want?” Aiden opened his mouth.
Stopped.
It was a simple question.
No one had asked it since the Awakening.
Everyone had told him what he should want.
A Class.
A guild.
Recognition.
Strength.
The Chimera wanted survival.
The Association wanted answers.
The Hall wanted a sovereign.
The Adaptive Body wanted evolution.
Malachor wanted an heir.
What did Aiden want?
He looked at his hands.
One human.
One still partially scaled.
“I want enough strength that nobody gets to decide what happens to me because I’m weaker.” Malachor listened.
“And enough strength to protect the people I choose.” Aiden looked toward the seven symbols.
“But I don’t want power that requires turning them into ingredients.” The Adaptive Body reacted.
Evolution pathway remains available.
Aiden’s expression hardened.
“Delete it.” Nothing happened.
He frowned.
“Delete the pathway.” Unable.
Sophia noticed his expression.
“What?” “It won’t remove it.” The Primordial Chimera spoke.
BECAUSE IT IS BIOLOGICALLY POSSIBLE.
“I didn’t ask if it was possible.” YOUR BODY DOES NOT JUDGE POSSIBILITY.
Aiden understood.
The Adaptive Body was not evil.
That would have been easier.
It was indifferent.
If eating seven compatible beings produced evolution, it would display the route.
Just as it would display armor when attacked or heat resistance when burned.
Aiden looked toward the throne.
“Then I’ll ignore it.” Malachor laughed.
“You believe refusal is enough?” “Yes.” “You have never been starving.” Aiden’s expression shifted.
Malachor continued.
“You have never reached the point where survival demands something you once considered unforgivable.” Aiden remembered his childhood.
Empty cupboards.
Shared meals.
Mrs.
Palmer pretending she had already eaten.
He knew hunger.
Not Malachor’s kind.
But enough to recognize the point.
“Maybe.” Aiden stepped closer.
“But if I ever reach that point, I want people around me who will stop me.” Marcus spoke from behind him.
“That can be arranged.” Theodore smiled.
Sophia nodded once.
Malachor looked between them.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
The pack trial returned to Aiden’s mind.
The Firstborn alone.
Aiden surrounded by companions.
Malachor noticed the comparison too.
He looked away.
The throne pulsed again.
FINAL CLAIM REQUIRED Aiden stared at the seat.
“Maybe we’ve been misunderstanding this one too.” Malachor frowned.
“Not every trial is a riddle.” “Your track record says otherwise.” The Firstborn looked offended.
Aiden walked toward the throne.
Malachor’s claws emerged.
Marcus raised his sword.
Aiden lifted one hand.
“Don’t.” He stopped before the seat.
The black bone had reshaped itself to roughly human proportions.
Golden veins ran beneath it.
The living crown trembled in Aiden’s hand.
Aurelius had warned him not to wear it.
The Chimera had revealed the throne belonged to an old system designed around succession.
One claimant may sit.
The obvious answer was simple.
Sit.
Become sovereign.
Aiden looked at Malachor.
“You first.” Everyone froze.
Malachor’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” “Sit.” “You are surrendering?” “No.” “Then why?” Aiden shrugged.
“I want to see what happens.” Malachor stared at him.
Marcus covered his face with one hand.
“Aiden.” “What?” “You are using an ancient throne as an experiment.” “It worked with the blades.” “That does not improve this.” Malachor stepped toward the seat.
Suspicious.
“You think it will kill me.” “I think it might teach us something.” “You are remarkably irritating.” “So I’ve heard.” Malachor stood before the throne.
The Hall reacted.
CLAIMANT: MALACHOR SEAT AVAILABLE Malachor looked toward Aiden.
Aiden gestured.
“Go ahead.” The Firstborn slowly sat.
Golden fire erupted.
Marcus moved.
Sophia grabbed him.
“Wait.” Malachor’s body locked.
The throne’s veins entered his armor.
Aiden’s stomach tightened.
Then the Hall displayed a message.
SOVEREIGN PROFILE ANALYSIS Images flashed.
Malachor choosing twelve children.
Malachor destroying his reflection.
Malachor fighting the Hollow One.
Malachor carrying the pack.
Malachor protecting Aiden from Varkesh.
The Hall evaluated everything.
Then— DOMINION: EXCEPTIONAL STRENGTH: EXCEPTIONAL SURVIVAL: EXCEPTIONAL PACK PRIORITY: IMPROVED Malachor’s face twitched at that.
A final line appeared.
SOVEREIGNTY: CONDITIONAL Malachor’s eyes widened.
The throne released him.
He stood immediately.
“What does conditional mean?” Aiden smiled.
“Apparently the ancient magical chair thinks you need work.” Malachor looked ready to kill him.
The Hall displayed another line.
SECOND CLAIMANT MAY SIT Aiden’s smile disappeared.
“Right.” He handed the crown to Marcus.
The crown’s twelve eyes looked at Marcus.
Marcus held it at arm’s length.
“I dislike this.” “Don’t wear it.” “I was not tempted.” Aiden approached the throne.
The Primordial Chimera stirred.
AIDEN.
“What?” I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT WILL SHOW.
“Neither do I.” THAT WAS A WARNING.
“So was mine.” Aiden sat.
For one heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then his world vanished.
He stood in darkness.
No Hall.
No companions.
No Chimera.
A figure appeared before him.
Not the copy from the third trial.
Himself.
Older.
Aiden recognized that immediately.
Perhaps thirty.
Perhaps forty.
Hard to tell.
Black horns curved from his head.
Golden scales covered half his face.
Wings folded behind him.
Not monstrous.
Not human.
Something between.
The older Aiden sat on a throne.
Around him— nothing.
No Marcus.
No Sophia.
No Theodore.
No Mrs.
Palmer.
No children.
No Malachor.
No Aurelius.
Only seven empty skulls arranged beneath the throne.
Aiden’s breath stopped.
The older version looked down.
“You survived.” Aiden stared at the skulls.
“No.” “You won.” “No.” “Every Gate closed.” The image shifted.
Earth.
Peaceful.
Cities rebuilt.
No monsters.
No Black Gates.
Humanity alive.
The older Aiden remained alone.
“You protected everyone.” Aiden looked toward the seven skulls again.
“At what cost?” The older Aiden smiled.
“The necessary one.” Aiden’s hands curled.
“This is what the throne thinks I’ll become?” The Hall answered.
POSSIBLE SOVEREIGN PATH.
The scene changed.
Another future.
Aiden dead.
New Haven destroyed.
Varkesh standing above burning streets.
Another.
Malachor sitting on the throne.
Humanity surviving under Primordial rule.
Another.
The Hollow consuming everything.
Another.
Aurelius dead.
Another.
Lysara killing Malachor.
Future after future.
None certain.
All possible.
Aiden understood.
This was not prophecy.
The throne was showing outcomes.
Choices.
The older Aiden appeared again.
“Consume the Seven.” The Adaptive Body pathway returned.
Completion probability: 92%.
Aiden laughed quietly.
The older version frowned.
“What?” “You think a percentage makes this easier?” Global survival probability increased significantly.
Aiden looked toward the peaceful Earth.
Children playing.
Cities alive.
Millions saved.
The seven dead.
His stomach tightened.
For the first time, refusal became difficult.
Not because he wanted power.
Because the power might save people.
Malachor had been right.
The true test would not come when the choice was easy.
The older Aiden stepped down from the throne.
“Would you sacrifice seven to save billions?” Aiden said nothing.
The image came closer.
“Would Aurelius?” Silence.
“Would Malachor?” Aiden knew the answer.
Probably.
“Would they choose their own deaths?” He did not know.
The Hall pressed harder.
Seven lives.
Billions.
Simple mathematics.
Aiden hated it.
Then he remembered the second trial.
Choose who survives.
The Hall had wanted a decision.
They had created another answer.
Aiden looked toward the false future.
“You keep giving me two choices.” The older version stopped.
Aiden continued.
“Eat them and win.” He pointed toward the ruined alternatives.
“Or refuse and lose.” The throne remained silent.
Aiden smiled.
“That means you still haven’t learned.” The vision trembled.
“I choose neither.” Alternative undefined.
“Good.” Aiden stepped toward his older self.
“I’ll build one.” Probability unknown.
“I know.” Risk extreme.
“I know.” Survival not guaranteed.
Aiden laughed.
“When has it ever been?” The peaceful future fractured.
The seven skulls broke apart.
Golden light exploded.
The Hall returned.
Aiden opened his eyes.
Marcus stood nearby.
Sophia.
Theodore.
Malachor.
All watching.
Aiden rose from the throne.
Golden words appeared.
SOVEREIGN PROFILE ANALYSIS DOMINION: INSUFFICIENT Malachor laughed.
Aiden looked offended.
“That feels unnecessary.” Another line.
STRENGTH: DEVELOPING Marcus coughed suspiciously.
Aiden ignored him.
SURVIVAL: ABNORMAL Theodore smiled.
Then— PACK PRIORITY: EXCEPTIONAL The Hall paused.
Longer than it had for Malachor.
Finally: SOVEREIGNTY: UNDEFINED Malachor frowned.
“That is not a valid rank.” The throne pulsed.
Another line appeared.
CLAIMANT REJECTS EXISTING SOVEREIGN PATHS Then— NEW PATH REQUIRES CREATION Aiden stared.
The Adaptive Body reacted.
Seven-source evolution pathway modified.
His heart stopped.
The old requirement appeared.
Previous Requirement: Consume the Seven Then the words shattered.
A new line formed.
Alternative pathway recognized.
Requirement: Unite the Seven without consumption.
No one spoke.
Aiden felt the pack bond ignite.
Aurelius.
Malachor.
Varkesh somewhere beyond.
Lysara.
Three sleeping signatures.
Seven lights.
Separate.
Alive.
The Primordial Chimera whispered.
IMPOSSIBLE.
Aiden smiled.
“We’ve heard that before.” The Hall shook.
The throne cracked from top to bottom.
Malachor stepped back.
“What did you do?” “I think I broke another rule.” The black throne collapsed.
Not destroyed.
Transforming.
Seven pieces separated from it.
Each piece became a small black-gold shard.
One flew toward Malachor.
He caught it.
Another shot into the distant pack bond and vanished toward Aurelius.
A silver shard disappeared toward Lysara.
A red one tore through space toward Varkesh.
Three vanished toward the sleeping children.
The final shard floated before Aiden.
He reached out.
It entered his chest.
No pain.
The spiritual core pulsed.
Sovereign Path initiated.
Condition: Seven independent wills must willingly synchronize.
Forced assimilation invalid.
Consumption invalidates pathway.
Aiden’s smile widened.
Malachor stared at the shard embedded in his palm.
“You changed the inheritance law.” “I asked for another option.” “You changed an ancient Primordial system because you disliked the choices.” “When you say it like that, it sounds impressive.” “It sounds stupid.” “Both can be true.” Theodore laughed.
The Hall began collapsing.
Not violently.
Peacefully.
Its purpose had ended.
Golden pillars dissolved into light.
The false stars faded.
The dimensional walls became transparent.
New Haven appeared outside.
Morning light had begun creeping across the horizon.
The city still stood.
Aurelius’s voice came through the bond.
“Aiden.” “Yeah?” “You should leave.” Aiden looked around.
“Why?” The old guardian’s answer came quickly.
“Because changing the Hall woke the others.” Aiden’s smile vanished.
The pack bond pulsed.
One.
Two.
Three.
The remaining sleeping signatures ignited.
Seven active.
All seven.
Malachor looked upward.
“So soon?” Lysara’s silver voice entered the bond.
“Too soon.” Varkesh laughed somewhere distant.
Then three new voices appeared.
One sounded like cracked glass.
One like a whisper underwater.
The last was disturbingly human.
“Father.” The Primordial Chimera went still.
The human-sounding voice continued.
“So the replacement has finally awakened.” Aiden felt something examine him through the bond.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Interested.
Then every Hunter communicator in New Haven came back online at once.
Alarms flooded the city.
Sophia checked hers.
Her face changed.
“What?” Marcus moved closer.
She turned the screen around.
Twenty-three Black Gates remained.
But the map now showed something new.
Seven of them had changed color.
Gold.
Red.
Silver.
White.
Green.
Violet.
And one color so dark the display could barely represent it.
Each Gate corresponded to one of the seven Primordial signatures.
Theodore looked toward Aiden.
“I suspect your family reunion has become global.” Aiden rubbed his forehead.
“They’re not my family.” Malachor looked at him.
“You carry Father.” Aurelius’s voice answered through the bond.
“You carry the pack.” Varkesh laughed.
Lysara remained silent.
The three newly awakened presences watched.
Aiden sighed.
“Fine.” The Hall vanished.
The group dropped into the ruined courtyard outside Saint Aurora Orphanage.
Soldiers shouted.
Association Hunters rushed toward them.
General Thorn stood beyond the barricade.
Morning light spread across New Haven.
For several seconds, Aiden simply enjoyed seeing the real sky.
Then a global emergency message appeared across every functioning screen.
SEVEN UNIDENTIFIED SOVEREIGN-CLASS ENTITIES DETECTED.
ALL NATIONAL HUNTER FORCES TO MAXIMUM READINESS.
Malachor read the alert.
“Sovereign-class.” He sounded amused.
Aiden looked toward him.
“What?” “That is what humans call us?” “Apparently.” Malachor smiled.
“They are optimistic.” Aiden did not like that answer.
Then another notification appeared before his eyes.
Not from the Association.
From the Adaptive Body.
New Evolution Objective Established.
Unite the Seven.
Current Willing Synchronization: 2/7.
Aiden blinked.
Two?
He looked at Malachor.
The Firstborn stared back.
“No.” Aiden smiled.
“You agreed.” “I did not.” The system remained.
2/7.
Aurelius laughed through the pack bond.
For the first time, Aiden heard Malachor genuinely lose his temper.
And somewhere across the world, five ancient siblings began moving.