Malachor stared at the floating notification as though personal betrayal had taken physical form.
Current Willing Synchronization: 2/7.
“No.” Aiden looked at him.
“It still says two.” “I can see that.” “Then maybe you agreed without realizing it.” “I did not.” Aurelius laughed through the pack bond.
The sound was weak, but unmistakable.
Malachor’s eyes narrowed.
“Aurelius.” “Yes, brother?” “Stop.” “I said nothing.” “You laughed.” “I am chained beneath an ancient ruin and have spent thousands of years alone.
Allow me this.” Aiden bit the inside of his cheek.
Malachor noticed.
“Do not.” “I’m not doing anything.” “You are about to smile.” Aiden failed.
Malachor’s expression darkened further.
Around them, the Saint Aurora courtyard was anything but calm.
Association Hunters flooded through the barricades.
Soldiers checked the damaged streets.
Emergency crews hurried toward the orphanage while technicians attempted to understand why half the surrounding equipment had suddenly restarted.
General Thorn approached through the chaos.
His eyes moved first to Aiden.
Then Marcus.
Then Sophia.
Then Theodore.
Finally, they stopped on Malachor.
Malachor stood nearly seven feet tall even in his restrained humanoid form.
Pale armor covered parts of his shoulders and chest.
Four black horns curved around his head like a natural crown.
Several nearby Hunters immediately raised their weapons.
Thorn did not.
That was probably the only reason nobody died.
“Cross.” Aiden sighed.
“General.” “Who is that?” Malachor glanced toward Aiden.
“You have not introduced me?” “This hasn’t exactly been a social event.” Thorn’s expression remained flat.
“Aiden.” “Right.” Aiden pointed.
“Malachor.
Primordial Chimera’s Firstborn.” One of the nearby Hunters slowly lowered his rifle.
Then seemed to realize that description was worse and raised it again.
Thorn stared.
“The creature that tried to take your body?” “Yes.” “And he is now standing in the middle of New Haven.” “Yes.” “Unrestrained.” Malachor looked toward Thorn.
“You could attempt restraints.” Aiden raised a hand.
“Please don’t.” Thorn ignored Malachor.
“Is he hostile?” Aiden hesitated.
Malachor answered.
“Yes.” Every weapon came up.
Aiden turned.
“Could you not?” “You asked whether I am hostile.” “I didn’t.” “The human did.” Thorn’s face did not change.
“Hostile to whom?” Malachor considered the question.
“Currently?” Aiden closed his eyes briefly.
Marcus stepped between the armed Hunters and Malachor.
“He is not attacking anyone.” “That was not my question.” “It is the answer that matters.” General Thorn looked toward Marcus.
The Guild Master’s armor was cracked.
Blood covered one sleeve.
His sword remained drawn.
Sophia looked worse.
Theodore looked irritatingly relaxed for someone who had almost died repeatedly.
Thorn finally lowered one hand.
The soldiers lowered their weapons.
Slowly.
Malachor smiled faintly.
“They learn.” Aiden looked toward him.
“They are showing restraint.” “As I said.” Aiden decided not to continue.
The morning sky above New Haven had changed.
The golden inheritance symbols were gone.
The city lights had begun returning district by district.
But seven faint streaks remained visible high above the clouds.
Gold.
Red.
Silver.
White.
Green.
Violet.
Black.
They stretched across the sky like scars.
Each corresponding to one of the seven Primordial signatures now active through the pack bond.
Aiden could feel them.
Not clearly.
Not enough to know exact locations.
But enough to know direction.
Aurelius remained stationary.
Malachor stood beside him.
Lysara felt distant and still.
Varkesh was moving.
Fast.
The other three had only recently awakened.
Their emotions were difficult to interpret.
One felt curious.
Another confused.
The last— Aiden frowned.
Nothing.
Not emptiness like the Hollow One.
Something deliberately quiet.
Watching.
Sophia noticed his expression.
“You feel them.” Aiden nodded.
“All seven?” “Yes.” “Locations?” “Not exactly.” Malachor looked toward the seven streaks.
“The bond was never intended for tracking.” The Primordial Chimera stirred.
IT WAS INTENDED FOR CALLING THE PACK.
Aiden looked inward.
“Can you call them?” Silence.
“That was a simple question.” I CAN.
Malachor laughed.
Aiden turned.
“What?” “He can call us.” The Firstborn’s smile carried no humor.
“He cannot make us answer.” The Primordial Chimera growled.
Malachor looked toward Aiden.
“Which is the difference Father never enjoyed.” Aiden felt a memory trying to rise through the bond.
He blocked it.
Not now.
There was already too much happening.
General Thorn had been speaking into a restored communicator.
His face gradually became darker.
When he ended the transmission, Marcus noticed.
“What happened?” Thorn looked toward everyone.
“The Black Gates have changed.” Sophia immediately stepped closer.
“How?” “Seven now correspond to the energy signatures we detected here.” Aiden remembered the global map.
Seven colored Gates.
Thorn continued.
“The remaining sixteen are still black.” Theodore’s faint amusement vanished.
“That distinction sounds important.” “It is.” “Why?” “Because creatures have started emerging from three of them.” Silence.
Aiden felt the Primordial Chimera become alert.
“What kind?” Thorn gestured toward the mobile command center.
“You need to see it.” They moved through the ruined street.
Malachor followed.
Several Hunters clearly disliked this.
None challenged him.
The mobile command center was running again by the time they entered.
Screens filled the interior.
Emergency feeds.
Maps.
Satellite imagery.
International Hunter Association channels.
Aiden immediately found India among the feeds.
A Black Gate hovered above a mountain valley.
The land around it had turned gray.
Another feed showed the Atlantic Ocean.
A massive black opening stood vertically above the water.
Ships had already been ordered away.
The third showed somewhere in Eastern Europe.
A city had been partially evacuated.
Nothing emerged from that Gate.
Yet.
General Thorn enlarged one image.
Northern Canada.
A black doorway stood between snow-covered mountains.
Creatures were moving from it.
Not charging.
Walking.
Aiden leaned closer.
They were humanoid.
Tall.
Thin.
Their bodies were covered in smooth gray shell-like armor.
None carried weapons.
The strange part was their faces.
Every one of them wore a different human face.
Some old.
Some young.
Some male.
Some female.
But the bodies were identical.
Sophia’s expression hardened.
“Hollow constructs?” The Primordial Chimera answered.
NO.
Aiden frowned.
“Not Hollow.” Thorn looked toward him.
“You’re sure?” “The Chimera is.” Malachor moved closer to the screen.
His eyes narrowed.
“Memory Walkers.” Aiden looked at him.
“That name sounds terrible.” “They are.” Thorn folded his arms.
“What do they do?” Malachor watched the creatures.
“They copy the appearance of those whose memories they consume.” Marcus’s expression darkened.
“Consume memories or kill people?” “Both, usually.” Aiden stared.
“Usually?” “Some prefer keeping the body alive.” Theodore quietly muttered, “That somehow made it worse.” Thorn switched feeds.
Another Black Gate.
This one in the Pacific.
Something enormous moved beneath the ocean surface near it.
Whales and other marine animals were fleeing in every direction.
The third active Gate stood in an empty desert.
Nothing had emerged.
But the sand around it was moving.
Not from wind.
Something beneath it.
General Thorn looked toward Malachor.
“Do you recognize any of these?” “No.” Aiden turned.
“You just recognized the Memory Walkers.” “They are a species.” “You said you’ve seen them.” “I have.” “So you recognize them.” Malachor looked irritated.
“I meant I do not recognize what commands them.” That quieted the room.
Sophia pointed toward the Canadian feed.
“They’re organized.” The Memory Walkers did not move randomly.
Rows.
Groups.
Some scouting ahead.
Others guarding the Gate.
They behaved like soldiers.
Aiden looked toward the black opening.
“Something is sending them.” The Primordial Chimera spoke.
YES.
The crown in Aiden’s hand opened two eyes.
He had almost forgotten he was still carrying it.
He looked down.
The living crown shifted.
Not trying to be worn.
Not trying to transform.
Simply observing the screen.
One of the eyes turned black for half a second.
Aiden nearly dropped it.
Malachor noticed.
“What?” “The crown reacted.” Sophia stepped closer.
“To the Memory Walkers?” “I think so.” Aiden focused on the archive.
No full forms appeared.
Instead, he felt a strange pattern.
Something familiar.
Spiritual structure.
Not Hollow.
Adjacent.
He could not explain it better than that.
The Primordial Chimera suddenly became very quiet.
Aiden felt the silence.
“What?” Nothing.
“Don’t start.” The Chimera resisted.
Aiden pushed harder.
“What do you recognize?” A memory surfaced.
Not willingly.
A black battlefield.
Thousands of dead creatures.
The Primordial Chimera standing beside seven young children.
Across the horizon— doors.
Hundreds.
Each opening into darkness.
And walking from them— different species.
Different armies.
All controlled by something unseen.
The memory vanished.
Aiden’s expression changed.
“The Black Gates aren’t prisons.” Malachor turned sharply.
“What?” Aiden looked at the world map.
“Not all of them.” The Chimera tried to retreat.
Aiden forced the connection open.
“Tell me.” The answer came.
THEY ARE ROUTES.
Marcus frowned.
“Routes from where?” The Primordial Chimera did not answer.
Malachor did.
“The Outer Wilds.” Everyone looked toward him.
Aiden narrowed his eyes.
“That sounds like something we should have mentioned earlier.” Malachor’s expression became grim.
“I hoped the gates were merely fragments of old prisons.” “And now?” “The Memory Walkers confirm otherwise.” General Thorn approached the screen.
“Define Outer Wilds.” Malachor’s red eyes reflected the twenty-three Gates.
“Worlds that never accepted system law.” Sophia frowned.
“System law?” “Classes.
ranks.
mana boundaries.
structured Gates.” Aiden understood slowly.
Earth’s Hunter system organized power.
Classes.
Ranks.
Skills.
Mana.
The Adaptive Body existed outside it.
So did Spiritual Power.
Malachor continued.
“The Outer Wilds are places where evolution never became orderly.” Aiden looked toward the Canadian feed.
“Meaning monsters.” Malachor shook his head.
“Meaning ecosystems.” That answer was worse.
“One creature can be killed,” he continued.
“An ecosystem replaces what dies.” Thorn’s face hardened.
“You’re saying the Black Gates are connecting Earth to entire worlds.” “Some of them.” “How many?” Malachor looked toward the map.
“Sixteen, perhaps.” Aiden’s stomach sank.
The Primordial Chimera spoke.
THAT IS WHY VARKESH CAME SO QUICKLY.
Aiden frowned.
“What does Varkesh have to do with them?” HE WAS NOT TRAVELING THROUGH THE HALL.
“He came through a Gate.” YES.
Aiden looked toward the red Gate on the world map.
The one connected to Varkesh’s signature.
“So the seven colored Gates belong to the children.” Malachor nodded.
“Anchors.” “And the sixteen Black Gates…” Malachor’s voice became quiet.
“Invitations.” Before Aiden could ask who had sent them, alarms erupted across the command center.
A technician shouted.
“Movement at the Japanese Gate!” A new feed expanded.
Tokyo.
The city had been evacuated for several kilometers around a silver-black Gate hovering between towers.
Hunters formed defensive lines.
Aiden felt the pack bond react.
Not hostile.
Silver.
Lysara.
The Gate began changing.
Black drained from its edges.
Silver light spread outward.
Then the entire opening became a mirror.
Everyone stared.
A figure walked through.
Tall.
Thin.
Almost human.
Long silver hair reached her waist.
Feathers covered parts of her arms and shoulders, but not like wings.
More like armor.
Two delicate horns curved backward above her ears.
Her eyes were completely silver.
No pupils.
No visible sclera.
Hunters surrounding the Gate immediately raised their weapons.
Lysara stopped.
Aiden felt her attention through the bond.
Then her head turned.
Not toward the Hunters.
Toward the camera.
Toward him.
Impossible.
Yet he knew she was looking directly at Aiden.
Her voice entered the pack bond.
“You are smaller than I expected.” Aiden closed his eyes.
Malachor laughed.
“Do not.” Aiden pointed at him.
“Not one word.” Lysara’s expression did not change.
Then, unexpectedly, she spoke aloud.
The microphone near the Gate captured perfect English.
“Aiden Cross.” The Japanese Hunters reacted.
Several weapons began glowing.
Lysara ignored them.
“I request conversation.” Thorn stared at the screen.
“She knows English.” Malachor shrugged.
“She knows every language she hears.” Aiden looked toward him.
“Perception.” “Yes.” Lysara continued.
“I will not attack unless attacked.” One Hunter commander stepped forward cautiously.
“What do you want?” Lysara looked upward.
The sky above Tokyo.
Then toward the Black Gates shown on nearby emergency screens.
“To prevent another extinction.” The command center went silent.
Aiden’s pack bond pulsed.
He felt truth.
At least she believed what she said.
Then Varkesh’s red presence slammed through the bond.
His laughter thundered.
“Sister always did enjoy dramatic entrances.” Lysara’s silver eyes narrowed.
“You tore through a city dimension.” “I did not destroy it.” “Because they stopped you.” A pause.
Then Varkesh answered.
“I allowed them.” Malachor snorted.
Aiden almost enjoyed that.
Then another presence entered.
One of the newly awakened three.
The voice was calm.
Male.
Almost human.
“You quarrel like hatchlings.” Every Primordial presence went still.
Malachor’s expression changed.
Aurelius whispered.
“No.” Lysara physically turned toward nothing.
Varkesh stopped laughing.
The Primordial Chimera recoiled.
Aiden felt the black-colored Gate on the world map pulse.
Once.
Twice.
The monitor showing it had no location.
Only coordinates.
Deep beneath Antarctica.
The Gate opened.
Darkness spread across the feed.
Something stepped through.
A barefoot man.
At least, he looked like one.
Black hair.
Pale skin.
Simple white clothing.
No horns.
No wings.
No scales.
Completely human.
That frightened Aiden more than Varkesh.
The man looked toward the camera.
His eyes were green.
He smiled.
“Aiden Cross.” The pack bond trembled.
Malachor whispered the name.
“Caelum.” Aiden looked toward him.
“Which aspect?” Malachor did not answer immediately.
The human-looking Primordial child raised one hand.
A deep wound opened across his palm.
Green light gathered.
The Antarctic ice around the Gate cracked.
Then healed.
Not froze.
Healed.
The broken ice fused as though it had never been damaged.
Aiden understood.
“Regeneration.” Malachor nodded.
Caelum smiled at the camera.
Then his gaze seemed to move beyond it.
Toward the Primordial Chimera.
“Father.” The ancient beast inside Aiden remained silent.
Caelum’s smile became sad.
“You really did choose another body.” Aiden frowned.
“I’m not his body.” Caelum heard him through the bond.
His expression changed.
“No?” “No.” “Interesting.” Aiden felt Caelum examine the connection.
Not invading.
Studying.
Then Caelum looked toward Malachor through the bond.
“You stand beside him.” Malachor’s jaw tightened.
“For now.” “Aurelius also supports him.” The golden presence answered.
“I do.” “Lysara?” Silence.
Then— “I am listening.” Varkesh laughed.
“I am waiting for him to become worth killing.” Aiden rubbed his forehead.
“That is almost encouraging by your standards.” Caelum’s smile widened slightly.
Then the final two unknown signatures reacted.
White.
Violet.
One moved.
The other remained still.
The white signature came with a voice like cracked glass.
“Shepherd.” Aiden’s spiritual core pulsed painfully.
Every person inside the command center seemed to feel something.
Even those outside the pack bond.
Technicians froze.
Some Hunters instinctively looked upward.
Theodore’s eyes narrowed.
“What was that?” Malachor looked genuinely alarmed.
The white Gate appeared on the map.
Location: Sahara Desert.
The sand around it exploded.
A shape rose.
Hundreds of feet tall.
Thin limbs.
A body made from white crystal and bone.
No head.
Instead, a ring of floating faces rotated above its shoulders.
Aiden felt the corresponding principle.
Transformation.
Not one form.
Many.
Malachor whispered.
“Mirath.” The creature did not speak again.
It simply began shrinking.
Hundreds of feet.
Fifty.
Ten.
Six.
By the time the transformation ended, a young girl stood barefoot in the desert.
White hair.
Black eyes.
She looked perhaps twelve.
Aiden knew instantly that appearance meant nothing.
Mirath looked directly toward the nearest camera.
“Where is Father?” Then the violet signature moved.
Every screen in the command center flickered.
Sophia stepped backward.
Aiden’s pack bond went cold.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Silent.
Thorn looked toward the map.
“The violet Gate.” No location appeared.
A technician typed rapidly.
“We can’t locate it.” “Why?” “It keeps moving.” Marcus frowned.
“Gates do not move.” “This one does.” The violet point crossed the map.
Atlantic.
Africa.
Europe.
Asia.
Too fast.
Then disappeared.
Aiden felt something behind him.
Not physically.
Through the bond.
Close.
Very close.
The crown’s twelve eyes opened at once.
Malachor spun.
All six claws emerged.
Marcus raised his sword.
Sophia’s shadows exploded across the room.
Theodore turned.
Nothing stood there.
Then a voice whispered beside Aiden’s ear.
“Six found.” He froze.
The violet presence smiled inside the bond.
“Where is the seventh?” Aiden slowly turned.
No one.
The Primordial Chimera’s terror surged.
A name escaped it.
NYX.
The voice laughed softly.
Then disappeared.
Every monitor went black.
For three seconds, the command center sat in darkness.
When the screens returned, the global map had changed.
The sixteen remaining Black Gates were no longer stationary.
They were moving.
Slowly.
Across the world.
Converging toward seven points.
Toward the Primordial children.
Sophia stared at the trajectories.
“They’re targeting them.” Malachor’s expression became grim.
Aurelius’s voice came urgently through the pack bond.
“Aiden.” “What?” The chained guardian sounded frightened.
“The Outer Wilds are not invading Earth.” Aiden looked toward the black pathways.
“Then what are they doing?” Aurelius answered.
“They are hunting us.” The Adaptive Body reacted.
New Threat Pattern Detected.
Seven Primordial signatures marked as targets.
Then another message appeared.
Sovereign Path condition endangered.
If one of the Seven dies before willing synchronization— The words paused.
Aiden’s chest tightened.
The final line appeared.
Alternative pathway becomes impossible.
Malachor read Aiden’s expression.
“What?” Aiden looked at the seven colored Gates.
At the sixteen Black Gates moving toward them.
He understood exactly what the enemy intended.
Not merely invasion.
Not conquest.
Someone knew what he was trying to do.
Someone knew the new pathway.
And they intended to destroy it before it could begin.
Aiden closed his hand around the living crown.
“Someone is hunting all seven of you.” Varkesh laughed through the bond.
“Let them.” Lysara remained silent.
Caelum smiled.
Mirath tilted her head.
Nyx said nothing.
Aurelius strained against his chains.
Malachor’s claws extended.
Aiden stared at the global map.
Sixteen Black Gates.
Seven siblings.
One unknown enemy moving them like pieces.
His Adaptive Body pulsed.
The old instinct whispered that consuming the Seven would be easier.
Fast.
Efficient.
Safe.
Aiden rejected it without hesitation.
“No.” The system remained silent.
Aiden looked toward Marcus.
“Get me a map of every colored Gate.” Marcus frowned.
“What are you planning?” Aiden felt the seven signatures burning inside the pack bond.
Some hostile.
Some curious.
Some wounded.
None united.
Yet.
“They want to kill the Seven before I can unite them.” Malachor looked toward him.
“And?” Aiden smiled.
“Then we reach them first.” At that exact moment, the golden Gate connected to Aurelius began flashing red.
A warning filled the screen.
BLACK GATE COLLISION COURSE DETECTED.
ESTIMATED IMPACT: TWENTY-SEVEN MINUTES.
The color drained from Malachor’s face.
Aiden felt Aurelius’s chains tighten through the bond.
The ancient guardian whispered only three words.
“I cannot move.” And somewhere above his prison, a Black Gate began descending from the sky.