The ocean had never looked so clear.
As Zander rose through the quiet, black depths, it wasn't that he could suddenly see in the dark. It was that the very concept of darkness had changed. He could perceive the water itself—not as a uniform mass, but as a living, shifting entity. Every flicker of bioluminescence, every drifting particle of sediment, every microscopic creature shimmered with a sharp, profound definition, as if the entire sea was a complex thought he was only now beginning to read.
He could feel the current, not as a push against his skin, but as a subtle change in pressure and temperature, a vector of force he could trace back to its origin. He sensed the subtle, powerful eddies swirling around Aethros's great form as the two of them ascended, the water parting with a silent, hydraulic whoosh around the beast.
The pressure that had once clawed at his chest, a force of annihilation threatening to crush him, now felt like an embrace. It was a constant, firm hand supporting him, a medium he was now a part of, not an intruder within. His body, scoured and remade, was lighter, his mind utterly quiet. His pulse, a slow and steady drum, seemed to be in perfect harmony with the vast, living rhythm of the water.
Aethros swam twenty meters ahead, a mountain of shadow and muscle. His massive tail sliced the darkness with the effortless, serpentine grace of a creature born to this. Zander could see, even from this distance, the beast's scales glowing faintly with amber traces of Primal Force—not a light, but a heat in the cold, a signature of raw, ancient life.
When they finally neared their sanctuary, the water grew warmer. They broke the surface of the hidden moon pool within the broad cavern that served as their dwelling. The transition from the silent, pressurized water to the open air was a sudden, sensory shock. The sound of their own emergence, a heavy, gurgling splash, echoed loudly off the stone walls.
Zander took a breath, the air tasting sharp and mineral-heavy, laced with the scent of damp rock, ozone, and the faint, coppery musk of Aethros.
Dim bioluminescent moss, clinging to the high, vaulted ceiling, flickered along the walls, greeting them with a soft, steady green light. The cavern had once felt vast, a hidden cathedral of stone. Now, to Zander's expanded senses, it felt smaller, almost intimate. He could feel the resonance of the rock, the solid mass of the mountain above them, the boundaries of the space not just with his eyes, but with his entire being.
Aethros heaved his massive body from the pool, his claws scraping on the rock shelf. He shook himself once, a violent, full-body tremor that sent a spray of cold, heavy water rattling against the far wall. The beast turned toward Zander, his twin hearts rumbling in his chest, his glowing amber eyes catching the faint reflection of the mosslight. His deep voice rolled through the chamber, a sound like thunder half-asleep.
"You did it, little human."
Zander exhaled softly, a plume of vapor clouding the air in front of him. He stepped onto the rock shelf, water streaming from his hair and body. His skin, scoured by the baptism, steamed faintly in the cooler air—a subtle, visible resonance of the Force still radiating from him, a quiet, thrumming heat.
"Yeah," he said, his own voice sounding strange to his new ears. "I did."
Aethros snorted, a low, percussive rumble that vibrated in Zander's bones. The beast lowered his massive, horned head, bringing his bus-sized eye level with Zander.
"Still slower than me."
Zander turned, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The expression felt new. "I recall someone nearly fainting—a telepathic shriek, I believe—when I forced my way past one thousand meters. You fled."
"That was strategy," Aethros said, his great eye narrowing. Water dripped from the scales around his jaw. "A tactical retreat. I was luring you deeper."
"Of course," Zander replied, his grin widening. "A brilliant maneuver."
The air between them filled with the comfortable, electric tension of shared triumph—the kind of bond born only from near-death trials and a silent, instinctual understanding. For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the steady drip... drip... drip of water falling from the ceiling into the pool, a rhythmic, grounding metronome in the quiet.
Then Zander looked up, his gaze steady, his eyes reflecting the faint green mosslight. The faint golden ring in his pupils, the mark of the baptism, had faded but was not gone.
"I didn't get to say it earlier... when we were linked. Thank you."
"For what?" Aethros's tone was deliberately dismissive, but his great tail stilled, betraying his curiosity.
"For lending your Force. When I was... at the edge... I could feel it. Something wild and alive, like fire and blood, threading through mine. It anchored me. It helped me cross the threshold."
Aethros blinked, a slow, nictitating membrane sliding across his massive eye. He seemed, for the first time, caught off guard. He pulled his head back slightly and let out a low, contemplative rumble, almost to himself.
"Primal Force," he rumbled, the words vibrating through the air. "I didn't lend it. It simply... answered you."
Zander tilted his head, studying the ancient creature, seeing him now not just as a beast, but as a well of living energy. "Then maybe it recognized something. A part of itself."
The creature huffed, a sharp exhalation of air, and turned his great head away, feigning indifference. But Zander saw it. A faint, amber shimmer pulsed beneath the beast's dark scales, a subtle, unmistakable wave of pride.
Zander took a seat on the smooth rock shelf, crossing his legs, his arms resting loosely on his knees. The stillness of the cave wrapped around him like silk. His newly tempered senses hummed faintly, no longer overwhelming but a constant, high-definition stream of information. He could hear Aethros's two hearts beating in a complex, syncopated rhythm. He could feel the low, steady vibration of Force coursing through the beast's massive bones. He could hear the small stream that trickled from one end of the cavern, pooling near their feet.
He closed his eyes, centering himself in the new, quiet power.
"I'm not staying here much longer."
"Oh?" Aethros's head tilted, the movement displacing a gallon of water from his scales.
"The cold down there… the baptism… it triggered something. A memory. A feeling." Zander's voice was low, contemplative. "Like there's another layer, another state I haven't grasped yet. My body's stronger, yes. Tempered. But... I think I'm supposed to go deeper into the cold."
"Deeper?" Aethros rumbled, confused. "We were at the floor. There is no deeper."
"Not physically." Zander opened his eyes, and now they held a distant, unfocused glint, as if he were looking through the cavern walls. "It's not about depth. It's about… temperature. The absolute cold was a key. I think I can learn something from it, a new form of control."
Aethros studied him for a long moment, his reptilian eye unblinking. He saw the new, steady light in Zander's gaze. Finally, he gave a rumbling sound somewhere between amusement and profound approval.
"You humans. You always chase pain to find truth."
"Pain teaches faster than comfort," Zander replied simply, meeting the beast's gaze.
"True enough," Aethros conceded.
They sat in quiet for a while longer. The small stream trickled. The glow of the moss flickered like candlelight on the damp stone, casting shifting green shadows across them both.
"You've changed," Aethros said finally, his voice a quiet vibration.
Zander nodded, feeling the truth of it. "We both have."
Aethros grunted, a sound of mild protest. "Hmph. But I reached Tempered Master first."
Zander laughed, a low, honest sound that echoed softly in the cavern. It felt good. "Guess you did. By a few thousand years. But I caught up."
"Barely."
"Barely's enough."
Aethros gave a low, approving rumble, then stretched out his massive form, his leathery wings brushing the stone as he settled into a resting position, a mountain of scaled shadow. Zander remained seated, watching the subtle, visible flow of Force move through the air—faint, silvery threads from himself, amber threads from Aethros, all interwoven in the space between them.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp, clean clarity of the moment. Then, almost reluctantly, he reached into the waterproof satchel he'd left on the shelf. He pulled out a small, flat communicator. The device flickered to life with a faint, electronic hum, its cold blue light reflecting in his eyes, starkly artificial against the cavern's green glow.
For a long while, he just stared at it.
So much had changed since he last spoke to Callan. His friend had likely been training nonstop, desperate to make his own breakthrough, to achieve the tempering Sensei had demanded. But Zander now understood something, a truth revealed in the baptism's clarifying fire: there was a fundamental flaw in humanity's entire approach to tempering.
They were all trying to contain the Force, to conquer it, to hold it like a weapon. But the tempering wasn't about containment. It was about release. It was about unity. Callan, in his haste, would try to cage the storm. He would break himself.
He couldn't let that happen. Not yet.
Zander pressed his thumb against the communicator's side, activating the subspace link.
The signal line blinked. Once. Twice. Then the sharp, metallic ring began.
He leaned back against the cool rock, watching the device's glow pulse. The sound of the ring, so out of place, echoed in the ancient cavern—soft, rhythmic, steady.
And that's where the chapter ended—a single, suspended heartbeat of silence before the call connected.