I stood there in the grand Observatorium from which she, the witch of change, Domina Novitas, my aunt, watched every little thing in this city without end. I looked up at her imposing figure, which had little resemblance to a human. Her multitude of arms moved independently in the air, operating something I could not name. Her hair and eyes constantly shifted in color, and her face kept changing expression, as if unsure which mood to settle on. The only thing linking her to humanity or to me was her dark skin, though it was slightly lighter than mine.
She hovered in the air, and the gigantic Observatorium was alive with Arcanum Vitae, softly humming through the machinery and ether around her. I sighed, performed the little bow I was expected to give, and said, "You called for me, Domina Novitas."
I had to restrain myself from muttering "old witch." She continued without acknowledging me, so I got louder.
"Hey, old lady! If you don't want to talk, why invite me?" My patience was thinning.
Her attention snapped to me, all of it, and she stopped whatever her arms had been doing. Multiple voices, layered and overlapping, emanated from her mouth as she said, "That is better. The Ahim I know. Next time, leave behind such formalities as bowing and the titles imposed upon me. We are family, aren't we?" She smiled for a split second before her expression changed again.
I repeated my words, this time less formal. "Old witch, why have you called me with a formal order? Do you think I have endless free time? Or that I am bored?" I allowed an uncanny, malice-filled smile to creep across my face, unlike any smile I had ever given Valerius. "If you haven't forgotten, I am dying ...and soon. If I do not reach the next stage…" My smile vanished as quickly as it came.
Domina Novitas looked at me. "I haven't forgotten that, dear Ahim." I shuddered slightly at the rare tenderness in her voice.
I have called you here, she continued, her arms hovering now still, "because of the impending Primarch election. You know the title, which by all rights should fall to me.""Well, I could not care less about the title," I said. "To me, it is just politics. And not even effective politics. The Primarch is bound by a vow. Acting out of self-interest becomes impossible. Neutrality is enforced. So tell me, why would you want that position?"
She laughed.
"Still naive," she said. "Do you really think anyone seeks that title for authority alone?"
She paused briefly.
"When Prima Idea left this world, he left behind a fragment of his essence. It can only be accessed by the Primarch."
I narrowed my eyes. "So that is the real reason."
Yes, she said. "An inheritance tied to transcendence."
She watched my reaction.
"Most Primarchs gain nothing from it. They lack the capacity to understand it. But there are exceptions. This generation's Primarch, Gaius Ferrum, has already approached that threshold."
I stayed silent for a moment.
Then I spoke.
I will become the next Primarch.
Silence followed.
She looked at me, unimpressed.
"That is not even amusing," she said. "If that was meant to be a joke, it failed."
"You said it yourself," I replied. "The most capable should take the position."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You believe you qualify?" she asked. "You? A Sinnevian? Something that should not exist in the first place?"
I held her gaze. "I believe I meet your requirement."
She studied me for a second longer.
"I see," she said. "You think this is your way out. Become Primarch, gain access to the inheritance, and force your next step."
She moved closer.
"You are only alive because I allowed it. A child awakening a Sinnevian path and surpassing Master level instantly… that alone should have sealed your fate. Your body cannot sustain it. You were dying the moment it happened."
"I am aware," I said.
Her voice rose.
"I intervened," she continued. "Despite what your parents did."
I smiled slightly. "Careful."
She did not stop.
"They betrayed this house."
"This once," I said, "you can speak like that."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she sighed.
"You are still the same," she said. "You mistake defiance for control."
The pressure in the room shifted.
"Let me remind you," she said quietly, "why you feared me as a child.
The Arcanum Vitae condensed.
My vision blurred.
The weight increased.
I focused.
Traced it.
Followed the flow instead of resisting it.
I felt like dying due to the strain.
Then I moved.
Not against her.
Around her.
"I see," she said.
The pressure collapsed.
And I was gone.Valerius stood in front of me, his expression shifting from confusion to relief the moment he saw me.
"Ahim…" he started, then stopped himself. Are you alright?
I looked at him for a moment before answering.
"For now."
That was enough for him. He nodded, though I could still see the tension in his posture. He had felt something. Not understood it, but enough to know that something had gone wrong.
I walked past him without another word. The corridor ahead was quiet, far too quiet for a place like this. The earlier disturbance had not gone unnoticed. People would talk. They always did.
Did something happen inside? Valerius asked carefully as he followed behind me.
"Yes."
He waited for more, but I said nothing.
After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Was it… her?"
I stopped walking.
Valerius froze as well.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to look at him from the corner of my eye.
"What do you think?"
He lowered his gaze. "I see."
We continued walking.
My body felt heavier with each step. The strain from earlier had not faded. If anything, it had settled deeper. Manifesting part of my domain had already been excessive. Forcing a transfer on top of that…
Unnecessary.
But staying there would have been worse.
I exhaled slowly and adjusted my breathing. The flow within me was unstable. Not enough to collapse, but enough to remind me of the limit I was approaching.
The next stage.
If I did not reach it soon, none of this would matter. Not the election, not the house, not even her.
Ahim.
Valerius spoke again, more quietly this time.
"You are… different today."
I did not respond immediately.
Different.
That was one way to put it.
"I have always been like this," I said.
He hesitated. "No. Not like this."
I glanced at him again. He did not look away this time.
"Then you simply failed to notice before."
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
We walked in silence for a while after that.
The estate felt smaller now.
Not physically. But in every other sense.
The people, the structure, the rules. All of it felt contained, predictable. Limited.
And yet they all moved as if this place was the center of everything.
I stopped near a large window overlooking the city below. Even from here, the scale of it was clear. The movement. The noise. The constant activity.
Valerius stepped beside me but said nothing.
"Tell me," I said, still looking ahead. "What do you think of the Primarch?"
He seemed surprised by the question.
The Primarch?
"Yes."
He thought for a moment before answering.
"He is… necessary."
I turned slightly. "Necessary?
For order, he said. "Without that position, the great houses would act against each other more openly. The balance would not hold."
And the vow?
"It ensures that balance," he replied. "No house can dominate the others directly. Not without consequence."
I looked back at the city.
"So everything stays the same."
"Yes," he said. "That is the point."
I remained silent for a moment.
Then I spoke.
"That is exactly the problem."
Valerius did not answer this time.
The idea had already taken form.
It was not about the title itself.
It was about what came with it.
If what she said was true, then the position of Primarch was not a limitation. It was a gate. One that most could not open properly.
But that did not mean it could not be opened.
I had understanding that no one here could measure.
If the inheritance required comprehension, then that was the only requirement that mattered.
Everything else was secondary.
"Prepare what is necessary," I said.
Valerius looked at me. "For what?"
I turned away from the window.
"For the election."
He stared at me for a second, as if waiting for me to correct myself.
I did not.
…Understood, he said finally.
As we continued down the corridor, I could still feel the faint residue of her presence lingering somewhere far above.
She had not stopped me.
That meant one of two things.
Either she could not.
Or she chose not to.
Neither option was comforting.
"Valerius," I said.
"Yes?"
"Do not interfere with what comes next."
He hesitated. "I would not presume to—"
"I am not asking."
He stopped speaking immediately.
"…Understood."
I continued walking, the weight in my body still present, but my mind clear.
The path was uncertain. The outcome even more so.
But for the first time, the direction was not.