The fallout from the "Audit of the Guilds" did not result in a second war, but in a profound, global silence. The images of Einstein Jacob—standing unarmed against the combined might of the world's most powerful awakeners and simply singing their weapons into dust—had shattered the illusion of the new hierarchy. The "Grafted" power of the Guilds was revealed to be a fragile house of cards, while the Grandmaster's "Zero" was shown to be a limitless ocean.
A week after the battle, the twisted vines in Einstein's garden had been pruned, the stone path repaired, and the broken Silver Guild ship had been towed away by a group of local farmers using Jacob-enhanced tractors.
Einstein stood on the porch, a cup of coffee in his hand, watching the sunrise. He wasn't alone.
The Disgraced Kings
Sitting on the steps of the cottage were Silas and Hera. They no longer looked like the "Iron" and "Silver" titans of the Alliance. Silas wore a simple grey tracksuit, his skin no longer metallic but possessing a healthy, olive glow. Hera's nanite-drones were gone; she wore a linen dress, her eyes clear of the digital overlays that had once clouded her vision.
They were waiting.
"You've been sitting there for four hours," Einstein said, not looking at them. "The cider isn't ready, and the tea is in the kitchen. If you're waiting for an apology, you're at the wrong house."
"We aren't here for an apology, Jacob," Silas said, his voice no longer a metallic growl but a resonant, human bass. He looked at his hands—hands that had crushed steel, now feeling the texture of the wooden porch. "We're here because we can't feel the 'Source' anymore. You didn't just break our weapons; you silenced the music."
"The music is still there, Silas," Einstein replied. "You just stopped listening to the rhythm and started trying to scream over it."
Hera looked up, her expression a mixture of shame and intellectual curiosity. "My logic was perfect. I fused the Pulse with the most advanced AI on the planet. I thought I had reached the 30th level. But when you sang... the AI didn't just crash. It agreed with you. It recognized your frequency as the only objective truth."
"The Jacob-Pulse isn't a power to be harnessed, Hera," Einstein explained. "It's a fundamental constant. Like gravity or light. You tried to build a cage for the sun. I just opened the doors."
The Arrival of the Class
As the morning progressed, more visitors arrived. They didn't come in warships or armored SUVs. They came on foot, on bicycles, and in small, rusted cars. There were fifty of them—the first "Class" of the New Era. Some were former Guild soldiers, others were "Naturalist" students, and a few were just ordinary people who had felt the "Jacob-Pulse" awaken something in them they couldn't name.
Maya, the girl from the Green Guild, acted as the unofficial greeter. She had spent the last week learning the "Grammar of the Earth," and her emerald aura was now steady and soft, like the glow of a forest at dusk.
Einstein walked down the steps and stood on the grass. The fifty students formed a ragged circle around him.
"I am not a King," Einstein began, his voice carrying effortlessly without a microphone. "I am not a General. And I am certainly not a God. If you are here to learn how to be stronger than your neighbor, you can leave now. I will not teach you how to be a predator."
He looked at Silas and Hera. "But if you are here to learn how to be a Conductor—if you want to know how to use the 'Human Dividend' to build a world that doesn't need Guilds or Councils—then stay. But know this: the first lesson isn't about power. It's about Anatomy."
Lesson One: The Body is the Board
Einstein sat cross-legged on the grass. "The Old Sovereigns believed power lived in the Seal—the external gift. But the New Era is about the Sovereignty of the Self. Your body is the most complex machine in the universe. To control the Pulse, you must first understand the house it lives in."
For the next four hours, the Grandmaster didn't talk about magic or energy blasts. He talked about the Biology of the Pulse.
"Your heart is the primary oscillator," Einstein explained, his hand resting over his chest. "It produces an electromagnetic field that can be measured feet away from your body. When you 'Awaken,' you aren't gaining a new power; you are simply increasing the Amplitude of this field."
He called Maya forward. "Maya, show them the 'Green Pulse'."
Maya closed her eyes. Her emerald light flared, but it was jagged and bright.
"You're pushing from your mind, Maya," Einstein corrected gently. "You're trying to think the energy into existence. That's an 'Expense.' The Jacob-Pulse is an 'Investment.' Drop your focus to the Vagus Nerve."
As Maya shifted her focus, her emerald aura changed. It became liquid, flowing around her like a warm breeze. The grass beneath her feet didn't just grow; it became vibrant, the blades turning a deep, healthy jade.
"She's not 'casting a spell'," Hera whispered, her analytical mind reeling. "She's... she's harmonizing with the cellular respiration of the plants."
"Exactly," Einstein said. "She's not the boss of the grass. She's the partner."
The Shadow in the Stars
While the first class learned to breathe, a much darker "audit" was happening far above the earth's atmosphere.
In the Aegis-Alpha Station, a secret lunar facility built by the remnants of Atropos Systems, Cyrus Vane was no longer the broken boy from the interrogation room. He stood in a chamber filled with "Void-Glass," staring at the blue marble of Earth.
He wasn't alone. Beside him sat a holographic projection of a figure that made the Architects look like children. It was a mass of shifting, geometric shadows—the Senior Auditor of the Orion Syndicate.
"The Tenth Heir has turned the planet into a closed loop," the Auditor's voice resonated through Cyrus's neural link. "The 'Jacob-Pulse' is a firewall. We cannot harvest the 'Essence' as long as the species is in harmony."
"He's teaching them," Cyrus said, his eyes cold and distant. "He's building an army of Conductors. If he succeeds, the Sun-God Seal will be distributed across billions of souls. We won't be able to reclaim it without destroying the planet."
"Then the planet is a Bad Debt," the Auditor replied. "Prepare the Entropic Pulse. If we cannot own the garden, we will salinate the soil."
Cyrus looked at a console. "The Entropic Pulse requires a massive amount of 'Void-Energy.' It will take weeks to charge."
"Then use the Heir's Spite," the Auditor said. "Contact the 'Deep Sea' remnants. There is one Jacob who did not choose the Pulse. One who still hungers for the Throne."
Cyrus's fingers paused over the screen. "You mean... the Failed Brother?"
"The one the Mother hid in the dark," the Auditor confirmed. "Activate Subject Omega."
The Midday Reflection
Back at the cottage, Einstein called for a break. Felicity and Rhea brought out trays of sandwiches and pitchers of cider. The atmosphere was surreal—former enemies sharing bread, discussing the "Resonance of the Ribcage."
Einstein sat with Felicity on the porch, watching the students.
"They're learning fast," Felicity noted. "Silas just repaired a broken fence post by 'matching the density' of the wood. He was so proud, he almost cried."
"The Pulse is intuitive once you remove the ego," Einstein said. "But I can feel the 'Static' again, Felicity. It's coming from above this time. The Syndicate isn't done with the audit."
"We have an army now, Einstein," she said, looking at the fifty students.
"We have a choir," Einstein corrected. "And a choir is a powerful thing, but it only works if everyone sings the same note. If the Syndicate brings a 'Dissonance' from the stars, a choir can be shattered."
The Lesson of the Heart
As the afternoon session began, Einstein didn't return to biology. He stood in the center of the circle and held up a single, polished stone.
"This stone has no Pulse," Einstein said. "It has no life. But it has Structure. The final lesson for today is the Jacob-Anchor. If the world around you becomes chaos—if a power greater than yours tries to rewrite your reality—you do not fight it. You Anchor yourself to the Structure of the Universe."
He closed his eyes. Suddenly, the air around the cottage became incredibly heavy. It wasn't a gravity well; it was a Reality Lock. The students felt as if they were made of iron, rooted into the very bedrock of the earth.
"This is the 25th-level Sovereign's secret," Einstein whispered. "The world is a board. If you are the Anchor, the pieces cannot be moved without your consent. Practice this. Because the stars are watching, and they are bringing a storm that will try to blow you all away."
The Evening Peace
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, the students departed to a nearby campsite. Silas and Hera stayed behind to help clear the garden.
"Grandmaster," Silas said, stepping toward Einstein. "I was a soldier for thirty years. I thought strength was about the weight I could carry. But today... I felt the weight of the air itself. Thank you."
Einstein shook his hand. It was a firm, human grip. "Go sleep, Silas. Tomorrow, we learn how to 'Walk on the Water'."
As the cottage went quiet, Einstein sat on the porch with his old bank app open.
Current Balance: £250.00 (He had sold a few more jars of honey).
He felt a deep, resonant peace. He was a teacher now. He was building something that wasn't a bank or a fortress. He was building a Culture of the Sovereign.
But as he looked up at the moon, he saw a tiny, violet spark moving across the lunar surface. He knew the "Audit" was coming. He knew the "Failed Brother" was being awakened.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver key to the cottage. He squeezed it tight, feeling the cold metal.
"I'm ready for the audit," Einstein whispered to the stars. "But I hope you've brought a lot of ink. Because I have a lot of history to write."