Mythara sat suspended in the heart of an endless nebula, its swirling colors casting ethereal light across his makeshift training sanctuary. Amaterasu lay curled against him, her skin still flushed with warmth, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their reunion. After her awakening, she had endured hours of Dr. Hamilton's clinical examinations—prodding, scanning, testing. The data had revealed nothing concrete, yet everyone could sense the fundamental shift that had occurred within her, like a song played in a different key.

They had retreated to this cosmic solitude ostensibly to explore what changes her transformation had wrought. But for the past several hours, their investigation had taken a decidedly more intimate turn than the good doctor might have anticipated.

"I'm still not entirely certain we've catalogued all the changes," Mythara murmured against her ear, his voice carrying a playful undertone. "Perhaps we should conduct a more... thorough examination?"

Amaterasu rolled her eyes, though her lips curved into an amused smile. "I think we've gathered enough... data for now." She shifted in his arms, studying his face with eyes that seemed to hold depths that hadn't been there before. "We haven't seen each other in two years. Let's talk."

"Two years for me," Mythara corrected gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "For you, suspended in your Chrysalis, it must have felt like the blink of an eye."

"No..." Her expression grew distant, almost haunted. "It felt like an eternity stretched into infinity."

What followed was a revelation that left Mythara speechless. Amaterasu recounted her experience within the Chrysalis—not the unconscious metamorphosis he had expected, but a vivid journey through realms of consciousness he could barely comprehend. She spoke of conversations with the very essence of creation itself, dialogues that had reshaped not just her body, but her understanding of existence.

As a Gteju, Mythara had touched creation in abstract ways—felt its pulse, sensed its rhythms. But what Amaterasu described transcended anything in his experience. She had communed with it as one might speak with an old friend.

"Have you never spoken directly to Vo?" she asked, her tone suggesting this should be the most natural thing in the world.

"Vo?" Mythara's eyebrow arched in confusion.

"The Voice... The Will... Creation's manifestation," she clarified, as if naming the unnameable was simply practical.

"You... named it?" There was something almost scandalized in his tone.

"Well, yes." She shrugged with endearing matter-of-factness. "No one ever seemed to ask what it wanted to be called. From our conversations, I don't think it had ever been given a name before."

Mythara couldn't help but chuckle at her casual approach to cosmic forces, even as something darker stirred within him. A creeping unease that felt disturbingly like jealousy. As a Gteju—supposedly the favored children of creation—shouldn't he have been the one to achieve such intimate communion? The feeling was foreign and unwelcome.

"Are you certain what you encountered was truly Creation itself?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Couldn't it have been your mind's way of processing something incomprehensible?"

Amaterasu met his gaze with serene confidence. "Would it matter either way? Ultimately, everything is an idea, and ideas only possess the power we grant them. My understanding of Vo is real to me. That's enough."

Her words carried a weight that silenced his doubts, and Mythara found himself both awed and slightly intimidated by this new depth in her. She was no longer the human he had fallen in love with; that much was undeniable. She had transcended into something that existed in a realm of understanding he was only beginning to glimpse.

"Very well said, indeed."

The voice materialized from the cosmic void like a blade cutting through silk. Both Mythara and Amaterasu spun toward their source, instantly alert.

The Wanderer emerged from the nebula's swirling depths, his presence somehow both grand and casual. Beside him materialized another figure—a being of striking contradictions. She possessed an undeniably powerful physique, her athletic form accentuated by curves that spoke of both strength and femininity. A skin-tight navy bodysuit hugged every contour, while her face remained hidden behind a mask of pristine white material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

Cascading crimson hair fell like liquid fire to the middle of her back, and in her grip she held a golden staff crowned with a ruby that pulsed with inner light. There was something hypnotic about that gem, something that called to a deep part of Mythara's being with uncomfortable familiarity.

"Who are they?" Amaterasu whispered, instinctively pressing closer to Mythara while attempting to shield her nakedness.

"Spare me such modesty, child," the Wanderer chuckled, his amusement evident. "I have observed more of you than you could comprehend." With a casual snap of his fingers, clothing materialized around both of them—simple but well-fitted garments that appeared as if they had always been there.

"He's the architect of our kind," Mythara answered grimly, his posture tense with barely contained hostility. "The reason beings like us exist at all."

"Heka," Amaterasu breathed, the name carrying the weight of recognition. Even knowing his identity, her newly awakened senses screamed warnings that this entity existed on a level of power that dwarfed even Mythara's considerable abilities. He was a force of nature given form, ancient beyond measure, and utterly alien in his purposes.

"And the other one?" Mythara's gaze remained fixed on the mysterious masked woman.

"She is beyond your current need to know," Heka replied dismissively, then turned to address his companion. "You have observations to conduct. Why do you linger? Begone."

"As you command." The woman's voice was hauntingly melodic, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. She bowed with fluid grace and simply... ceased to be. No flash of light, no spatial distortion—one moment she existed, the next she was absence itself.

"What manner of being—" Mythara began.

"Something far above your current understanding," Heka cut him off sharply. "Have you forgotten our compact so quickly?" His tone carried the subtle threat of consequences for overreach.

Mythara's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, crossing his arms in frustrated acknowledgment of his limitations.

Heka approached Amaterasu with predatory elegance, grasping her chin with familiar presumption to peer into her transformed eyes.

"Marvelous. Breathtaking. Utterly unprecedented." His voice carried genuine wonder. "I confess, I expected others to emerge first from their Chrysalis—those you call Shango, perhaps, or the Conductor. You continue to exceed my projections."

Amaterasu pulled free from his grasp with newfound strength, her eyes flashing with defiance that hadn't existed before her transformation.

"Vo said I was their favorite," Amaterasu replied.

"Obviously... otherwise they wouldn't have helped you become the first of your kind."

"Of my kind? If we've become something other than human, then Alpha would be the first." Amaterasu reasoned.

"No... Alpha was and still is incomplete. Because of his botched creation, he still has several years ahead of him before he becomes what he should be. And even if he had undergone his Chrysalis properly, you still would have emerged before him." Heka explained.

"Okay, but what does it matter?" Amaterasu asked.

Heka let out a deep breath and looked over at Mythara.

"Leave us," Heka commanded.

"Whatever you need to say to me, you can say in front of him." Amaterasu protested.

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"Fine, you'll just tell him anyway." Heka huffed in annoyance and turned around. He waved his hand through the air, and the nebula surrounding them began to transform.

The nebula took the form of multiple different sentient species. Some were recognizable to Mythara and Amaterasu; others were creatures they had never seen.

"The concept I'm about to explain has no bearing on short-lived species. However..." Heka pointed to several of the creatures, which began to glow. One of the nebula-formed species was a dragon.

"For long-lived species and those with unlimited lifespans, it is one of the core principles: Age equals authority." Heka turned to face them both.

"The older you are, the stronger you are?" Mythara asked.

"In a sense. The older you are, the more time you have to accumulate knowledge. And in this existence, knowledge is power." Heka chuckled and continued. "But when I say age equals authority, I mean that in a very literal sense—doubly so when it comes to those who are the first of their kind." He looked at Amaterasu, a satisfied smile shining through the darkness of his hood.

"I don't understand," Amaterasu said, her voice tight with concern.

"Dragon fear." Heka's eyes shifted to Mythara, his expression carrying a mixture of disdain and knowing superiority. "That primordial dread that seizes your very soul when a Gteju so much as casts an aggressive glance in your direction—that is true authority. It is the birthright granted to them as the first and most beloved creatures to emerge from Creation's embrace."

Mythara's jaw tightened. "What does any of this have to do with her?"

"Dragon fear can be utterly crippling to lesser species," Heka continued, his tone taking on the cadence of a lecture. "But against other Gteju? It becomes something far more devastating. I'm certain you witnessed this with Nina."

Understanding flickered across Mythara's features as he gave a slow nod. He had indeed seen how others crumbled when Cefketa unleashed his dragon fear—the way grown warriors would stagger, their faces draining of color, their hands trembling uncontrollably. But that paled in comparison to their first encounter with Nina. The moment she had turned her attention upon them, they were driven to their knees as if crushed by an invisible weight, their bodies betraying them without the slightest attempt at resistance.

At the time, he had attributed it to Nina's overwhelming power. Now he realized it was this authority Heka described—or perhaps a terrifying combination of both strength and birthright.

"There are other variables at play," Heka continued, gesturing lazily through the air. "Ancient bloodlines, natural talent, raw power—all contribute to the hierarchy. But favoritism..." His smile turned predatory. "Favoritism is the ultimate trump card. We call this divine preference the Rights of the First."

His gaze settled on Amaterasu with an intensity that made her unconsciously step back.

"You're telling me I'll possess some form of dragon fear over the others?" Amaterasu's voice wavered slightly. "Simply because I'm Vo's favorite? Is Vo... is Vo god?"

"Vo?" Heka's laughter erupted like breaking glass, sharp and mocking. "You named it? Oh, that's precious. No wonder you've become its darling." His amusement gradually faded, replaced by something approaching pity. "You humans and your desperate need to anthropomorphize everything, to reduce the infinite to something you can comprehend. No, child. 'Vo' is not god."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, all the floating images around them exploded into countless pinpricks of light, each star pulsing with its own rhythm.

"Creation itself is an abstract force—infinite, incomprehensible, beyond the grasp of any mortal mind." As he spoke, those countless stars began to flow together like liquid light, forming a vaguely humanoid silhouette that constantly shifted and morphed, never settling on a single form for more than a heartbeat.

"What you call 'Vo' is merely a construct—a vessel designed to give that boundless concept a semblance of will, to make its abstract nature..." He paused, watching the shifting figure of light with something almost resembling reverence. "More digestible for minds too small to comprehend the true scope of existence."

"Who created Vo?" Mythara asked.

"The being you would know as God did." Heka's tone carried the casual dismissiveness of someone discussing the weather. "I suspect there was no grand design behind Vo's creation—that your 'God' simply grew bored with micromanaging and delegated the tedious work to what amounts to a cosmic secretary."

His chuckle held an edge of mockery that made both listeners uncomfortable.

"How is telling us this not against the rules you follow, but other information is?" Mythara's frown deepened, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Heka spread his arms wide, encompassing the vastness around them. "Because the core of this knowledge is so utterly abstract, so incomprehensibly vast, that it might as well be nonsensical poetry to your current minds." His eyes glittered with amusement as he regarded them. "What could you possibly do with such revelations except stand there, drowning in the crushing weight of your insignificance?"

With a dismissive wave, he returned the nebula to its original state, the cosmic display collapsing like a discarded dream.

"Now, as for what form your Right will manifest—that varies between species." His voice took on the tone of a scholar discussing fascinating specimens. "The Kitsune, for example, don't regard their firstborn with terror, but with absolute, reverent adoration. Your influence might inspire fear, perhaps worship, maybe simple respect." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I wasn't among the first of my kind—nowhere close, actually—so the specifics remain a mystery even to me."

A slow, predatory smile spread across his shadowed features. "Though perhaps... you'll have the luxury of choosing."

"What is your kind?" Amaterasu asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

All she received in return was that same predatory smile, teeth gleaming like polished ivory in the ethereal light.

"Perhaps your boyfriend can inquire once he completes his little assignment." Heka's tone dripped with casual dismissal as if the question itself was beneath his notice.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken implications. Amaterasu and Mythara stood frozen, their minds racing to process the cascade of revelations. The memory of Dr. Hamilton and Alpha's reactions played on repeat in Amaterasu's thoughts—not the wide-eyed terror she had expected, but something far more complex. An instinctive deference. Unspoken respect tinged with wariness.

The realization settled in her stomach like a cold stone. She possessed this power now, this ability to command through presence alone. But the thought of wielding it—of watching her friends' eyes glaze over as their free will crumbled beneath her gaze—made her skin crawl.

"I can practically hear the wheels spinning in that pretty head of yours." Heka's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts like a blade. "Whatever dark scenarios you're conjuring, put them to rest. You may be the first of your kind, but your companions will be the first generation. Whatever Rights you possess won't hold MUCH sway over them." His smile widened, revealing more teeth than a human possessed. "Everyone else, however... Well, that's a different story entirely."

He began moving toward her with that same predatory grace, each step deliberate and measured.

"You are considerably nicer to her than you are to me," Mythara interjected, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. "Aren't I supposed to be your masterpiece?"

"Regrettably, you are indeed my masterpiece." Heka's acknowledgment carried the weight of disappointment. "But at the end of the day, you are just another lizard. She, on the other hand..." His fingers found Amaterasu's chin again, tilting her face upward with almost reverent care. "She represents what I had hoped you might become."

His eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to peer directly into her soul.

"Perfection."

Amaterasu jerked away from his touch, her skin burning where his fingers had made contact. She stared down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if seeing them for the first time. The change thrummed through her veins like electricity—undeniable yet indefinable. She had craved this power, had yearned for the strength to seize her happiness and shield it from those who would steal it away.

But as she stood there, transformed beyond recognition, a troubling question arose: What price had she paid for this gift?

Her gaze drifted to Mythara. He had shed his humanity long ago, yet his devotion to protecting his former species burned brighter than ever. Perhaps the essence of what made someone human transcended biology.

"Why do I cling so desperately to the idea of remaining human?" The thought whispered through her mind like smoke.

She drew a shuddering breath and fixed Heka with a steady stare. "So I'm not human anymore?"

"The answer is both no and yes, child." Heka's expression softened into something almost resembling pride. "You have become what your species was always destined to evolve into. I merely provided the catalyst to accelerate a process that would have taken millennia. You are no longer Homo sapiens—that much is true. But I haven't bothered to craft a name for what you've become." He shrugged with theatrical indifference. "So 'human' will suffice... for now."

Neither Mythara nor Amaterasu found the energy to challenge the ancient being's casual redefinition of existence itself.

"Any other burning questions?" Heka inquired, his tone suggesting their time was drawing to a close.

"Will you answer any of them?" Amaterasu shot back, exhaustion creeping into her voice.

"No."

"Then why bother asking?" Mythara's question came out as more of a growl, his patience finally reaching its limit.

Heka shrugged dismissively and turned away, practically bouncing on his feet. The ancient being radiated satisfaction.

"You should prepare to greet your brethren. They should emerge in two days, and I will return to help acclimate them." He paused mid-stride, as if savoring the weight of his words before continuing his departure.

Amaterasu watched his retreating figure, something cold settling in her stomach. The casual way he spoke of her "brethren"—as if they were merely pieces on a board—sparked a defiant fire within her. She gathered her courage and called out.

"You know that if things go wrong, this new species you're so proud of could go extinct?"

"Or you could rise to even greater heights than I could imagine!" Heka's voice crescendoed with fervor, each word dripping with dangerous excitement.

"Evolution is a gamble, child—and strife breeds either excellence or extinction! The beautiful uncertainty of it all!"

He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the chaos he had unleashed. "I'm betting everything on you—my greatest work, my most precious experiment." His face remained cloaked in shadow, but that terrible, ecstatic smile blazed like a beacon in the darkness.

The ancient being leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than any shout. "Don't. Disappoint. Me."

With those final words hanging in the air like a curse, Heka vanished, leaving only the echo of his laughter and the weight of impossible expectations.

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