"Perfect."
In one hand, I held Boa's brain. In the other, the parasitic seed of the Spraw—still twitching, faintly warm, alive.
"Synthesis."
Black goo surged from my palm, engulfing both objects. An arc of volatile energy formed between them—lashing like static, searching for resonance.
Heeee!
The seed shrieked—high-pitched, piercing, almost intelligent.
I narrowed my eyes.
Conflict? Resistance?
No... it just needed more power.
Vmmm.
Another surge of goo thickened the arc. Energy stabilized. The seed twisted grotesquely, warping into unnatural shapes. The brain pulsed in eerie rhythm.
Then—slowly—they began to merge.
I sank to the floor, folding my legs beneath me. Beside me lay half of Boa's bones. With a thought, I fused them into the skull, bone locking to bone through strands of synthesis fluid and focused intent.
As the fusion stabilized, I extended my finger. Goo spiraled from its tip—thin, steady, controlled.
A branch skill of Synthesis: Synth Line.
Energy bled from the fused core into my finger, as if drawn from a hidden reservoir. Holding the blade's sheath in one hand, I began to etch sigils into it—lines precise, red, alive with buried meaning.
My body groaned from the strain. My muscles twitched. My soul pulled taut. Still, I didn't stop.
The design evolved—more complex with each stroke. Not just runes. Not even language. It was something deeper: genetic memory, cosmic intuition. The red etchings faded into a translucent jade.
And behind me—the cocoon pulsed. Slowly, it began to peel open.
Omin's POV
What is this boy doing...?
Even before I reached the far end of the corridor, something tugged at my attention. An unnatural shift in his aura.
I turned and followed it.
As I approached, I cloaked my presence—my breath, my footsteps, even my heartbeat.
Yet the moment I stepped into the room… I felt it.
Power.
Not mana. Not aura. Not demonic taint.
Something older.
Something connected.
Is this truly my son?
The air thrummed with rhythm—breath, heartbeat, focus—woven together with an unseen force. It wasn't a spell. It wasn't a system. It was…
Synchrony.
I lowered myself into a lotus position. My breathing slowed.
And then… it began.
Markings unfurled along my left arm—elegant and serpentine, glowing faintly. Scales bloomed across my chest and shoulder, dark and shimmering. My arm turned pitch black.
The pressure shifted. Deepened. From within my core, a spiral of red energy bloomed like a flower of blood.
"We are becoming one," I whispered.
One with the curse.
My mind slipped into the depths of my soul.
And there, in the vast ocean of my subconscious, it waited.
A colossal baby, unmoving. Its presence was ancient. Heavy. Timeless. Its blank eyes stared forward—silent, yet watching.
Then, everything shifted.
The scene around me changed—familiar, haunting.
I stood under the pale moonlight, blood and tears soaking my face. Floating above me… the man in red. Blonde hair cascading like fire. In his arms—her.
He laughed.
"Hahahaha..."
"All of this… worked out thanks to you, Omin."
The scene froze.
Grief and rage surged through me like wildfire.
"You couldn't save anyone."
The voice came from behind me.
I turned.
And saw him—my other self. Half-draconic, half-human. No hatred. No sorrow. Only truth in his void-black eyes.
"Dariel…"
He met my gaze in silence.
The curse itself. The darker half of me. My power, personified.
"You've lost everything," he finally said. "Give yourself to me. I'll give you the power to erase them all."
Temptation curled around my chest like a serpent.
But I didn't waver.
"I don't need you," I replied. "You are my power. Part of me. What gives you the right to speak as though you're separate?"
And then—I acted.
In a heartbeat, my hand was through his chest.
Red light erupted—howling and wild—screaming outward in waves.
"Balance."
He collapsed into me, torn apart by the vortex.
Scales surged across my body, cloaking me in armor. Deep within my mind, the colossal child opened its eyes—wide and aware.
In the physical world, a crimson lotus bloomed beneath me.
I rose—slowly—suspended by the weight of what I had reclaimed.
Dax's POV
The air shifted again.
Thickened.
Like reality itself was holding its breath.
I froze mid-stroke. My instincts exploded, flooding me with information. I turned.
And there he was.
Floating. Calm. Wrapped in a force I didn't recognize.
No—I recognized it.
I just didn't understand it.
His body had changed. Evolved. His presence was no longer something I could read.
It was something to study.
I smirked.
"Oh… Father is a genius."
My mind buzzed—possibilities sparking like fireworks. I could reverse-engineer an entire genetic path just from watching him. I could—
No. Not now.
The weapon wasn't done. If I lost focus, the entire process would collapse.
So I turned back to my work.
Etching.
Line by line. Stroke by stroke.
The weapon was no longer just an instrument.
It was becoming alive.