WE CRAITA
Book One: The Awakening of the Idols
---
The Marble Palace of Dicin, capital of Sisedeb, gleamed under the Tedetre sun like a polished jewel—a façade of prosperity that concealed the kingdom's deep cracks. Its corridors were decorated with tapestries that narrated the "glorious" history of the Sisedeban monarchy: conquests, expansions, and the supposed unification of races under a single banner.
Nothing about the genetic experiments.
Nothing about the Consortium of Silence.
Nothing about the things that slept in the depths of the blue ocean.
In the Royal Council Chamber, three figures stood at attention. Their bodies—as diverse as the creatures that inhabited the nightmares of Dos' citizens—remained motionless as statues. They were the Synraevraer. The Loyal Ones. The government's answer to the growing threat of the rebels. King Aldric IV watched them from his elevated throne, his Hoslin eyes of shade 1—the lightest on the palette, reserved for noble families who rarely exposed themselves to the sun—examining every detail of his creations.
"Report," he ordered, his voice echoing through the empty hall. Only the most trusted advisors were present; this meeting was not for ordinary eyes or ears.
Dipil, the End of Chaos, was the first to move.
His quadrupedal scorpion body scraped against the marble as he stepped forward. The size of an adult human, his carapace displayed a rocky appearance that shimmered faintly in the light—a natural armor that resisted cuts as if they were caresses. His stinger, which replaced what would be a normal tail, dripped a venom that did not kill, but drained the very life force of its victims.
"My king," his voice was a harsh noise, like stones being crushed. "The rebels have been located. The hybrid Talulah Voelkel and the animatronic Orlando Szohr are deep within the underground factory of Hell Fort. Our informants confirm that they made contact with the Consortium."
The king frowned. The Consortium of Silence was a... complicated entity. Officially, the government of Sisedeb did not acknowledge its existence. Unofficially, they had an agreement: the Consortium conducted its experiments in the shadows, and the monarchy turned a blind eye, as long as the results—like the Synraevraer themselves—were delivered to royal control.
"And the civilians who witnessed the event in the stadium?"
Emilio Coster-Waldau slid forward, his cyan and black robotic body emitting a soft hum. A zipper ran down his torso—a maintenance opening, or perhaps something more sinister—and metallic horns crowned his head. He had no fixed residence; It was everywhere, infiltrated into every district of Dos through its most fearsome ability: possession.
"Most are confused," Emilio reported, his modulated voice sounding strangely human. "They believe it was a spectacle. Entertainment. But some..." he paused, his photonic eyes gleaming. "Some are asking dangerous questions. A Hoslin named Kaelen. A Derent named Derrin. A Rere named Thessa. They met after the event. They discussed the Consortium."
"Kaelen..." the king murmured, consulting a data device on his throne. "Her bloodline. Is she one of the sleeping ones?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Latent genetic marker. Unawakened potential."
"Is she a threat?"
Emilio considered the question. His cibopathic mind—capable of merging with any technological system and, more recently, with organic minds—processed thousands of variables in seconds.
"Potentially. If awakened, she could become... problematic. Or she could become an asset. It depends on how she's approached."
The king nodded slowly, then his eyes turned to the third figure.
Tegra, The End of Fire.
If Dipil was earthly precision and Emilio ethereal infiltration, Tegra was absolute annihilation.
Her spherical form floated silently in the center of the hall, a colossal sphere three meters in diameter that defied gravity. Her surface resembled the skin of a stingray—smooth, supple, yet incredibly resilient—and glowed with a supernatural coldness. Icy Body, as the Consortium scientists had classified it: resistance to extreme cold and a protective layer that regenerated as long as it wasn't melted.
But it was her faces that caused true discomfort.
Three extra, non-functional faces were scattered across her spherical surface—expressions frozen in silent agony, as if they had been fused to the creature against its will. And at the center of its form, a piercing beak that could shred steel as if it were paper.
Despite its monstrous appearance, Tegra did not attack with claws or fangs. Instead, appendages wielding weapons emerged from its surface—forged blades, heavy maces, modified firearms. It was a floating fortress, a living arsenal.
"Your Majesty," Tegra's voice echoed as
A chorus of whispers—its three non-functional faces seemed almost…vibrating with sympathy. "The rebels must be eliminated. They threaten order. Structure. The meaning of everything we've built."
The king smiled. Tegra was his favorite creation. Not just for its raw power—fourteen Hit Dice, colossal size, immunity to acid, and the ability to reflect low-level magic—but for its motivation. While Dipil amassed resources and Emilio simply existed to infiltrate, Tegra genuinely believed in the cause. He saw order as sacred and entropy—chaos, change, the end of established structures—as the greatest of heresies.
"And you, Dipil?" the king asked. "What's your assessment?"
The quadruped scorpion gnashed its jaws. "The rebels have power. The hybrid manipulates time. The animatronic is virtually indestructible. But they are… predictable. Emotional." He spat out the last word as if it were an insult. "They prioritize humans. They protect civilians. That's a weakness we can exploit."
"Explain."
"If we threaten the civilian population of Dos—specifically the districts where their potential allies reside—they will come to us. We don't need to hunt them down in the depths of Hell Fort, where they know the terrain. We can bring them to our battlefield."
The king considered this. It was brutal. It was efficient. It was exactly the kind of strategy the Consortium had programmed in Dipil when they combined insect DNA with enhanced predatory instincts.
"Approved," he declared. "But with one condition: Hoslin Kaelen. She must not be killed. I want her alive. If she truly possesses the dormant marker, she could be... useful. Converted to our cause, she would be a valuable addition to the Synraevraer."
"And if she resists?" Emilio asked.
The king smiled—a smile that didn't reach his triangular eyes. "Then we'll use other methods. The Consortium has techniques of... persuasion. Consciousness transference, like they did with Orlando Szohr. Reprogramming. If we can't have her as an ally, we'll have her as a weapon anyway."
---
Three hours later, in the central districts of Dos...
Kaelen awoke to the sound of sirens.
Not the normal sirens of the Dos police—those were rare, considering the legal system ignored most crimes. No, these were different. Higher-pitched. More... ancient.
She ran to the window and her blood ran cold.
In the pale sky of Tedetre, a colossal sphere floated above the Bridge Cross district. Tegra, the End of Fire, hovered like a black sun, its icy surface glowing with a bluish inner light. Its three non-functional faces were turned downwards, towards the streets, as if observing—or judging.
"Kaelen!" Derrin burst through the door of her apartment, her Derent eyes wide. "You need to see this!"
"I'm already seeing it!"
"No, I mean—" he dragged her into the hallway, where a larger window overlooked the Aniaburg district.
There, another creature moved through the streets.
Dipil, the End of Chaos, advanced on all fours, its scorpion-like legs scraping the asphalt. Its rocky appearance gleamed in the morning light, and its stinger swung menacingly. It wasn't attacking—yet. It was... patrolling. Like a predator marking its territory.
And then there was the third presence.
Kaelen didn't see it, but she felt it. A pressure in her mind, as if someone were trying to open a door that should remain closed. She staggered, bringing her hands to her temples.
"Kaelen?" Derrin held her. "What is it?"
"There's... someone. In my head. Trying—" she grunted, her eyes involuntarily narrowing. "Trying to get in!"
Somewhere in the streets below, Emilio Coster-Waldau grinned.
His cyan and black robotic body was hidden in an alley, but his cybopathic mind stretched like spiderwebs throughout the district. He was testing the mental defenses of civilians, searching for weak minds to possess, strong minds to mark as threats.
And Kaelen's mind... glowed.
"Interesting," he murmured to himself. "She doesn't even know what it is, but she's already resisting. The dormant marker is more active than the reports suggested."
He withdrew from her mind—for now. It wasn't worth forcing a premature possession. Better to observe her, learn her patterns, and strike when she was vulnerable.
After all, he had time.
And spiderwebs aren't built in a hurry.
---
In the underground factory of Hell Fort...
Talulah Voelkel sensed the disturbance even before she saw it.
Her four Kla eyes completely retracted as she processed the information coming through her enhanced senses. Vibrations in the ground. Changes in atmospheric pressure. And something else... a disturbance in the temporal flow.
"They're here," she announced.
Orlando Szohr rose from his meditative position—yes, animatronics could meditate, or at least enter states of low consciousness.
"The Loyalists?"
"Three of them. One on the surface of Bridge Cross, one in Aniaburg, and one..." she tilted her head, her eyes widening again. "One everywhere. Infiltrated. I can't pinpoint him precisely."
"Emilio," Orlando deduced. "The cibopath. I met him briefly when he was still being...programmed. He was one of the Consortium's earlier prototypes. Consciousness transfer to a robotic body, but with enhancements. Psionic abilities. Plant control. Mental spider webs."
"Can you face him?"
Orlando considered. "My invulnerability and healing factor protect me from physical harm. But mental possession..." he hesitated. "I don't know. My consciousness was transferred, but it's still human at its origin. Theoretically, he could try to possess me too."
"Then we need mental defenses." Talulah frowned. "I can manipulate time, but that doesn't protect me from psychic attacks. We need allies. And fast."
She turned to the makeshift communicator they had assembled from factory parts. A secure frequency, which Thessa had provided to Rere before disappearing to "gather more information."
"Tessa," Talulah called. "Are you there?"
State. Then, Rere's triple voice:
"I am. And I have bad news. The Synraevraer aren't just patrolling. They're implementing a plan. Dipil suggested using civilians as bait to lure you. The king approved."
"Bastards," Orlando growled.
"I agree. But there's more." Thessa paused. "They have a specific interest in Kaelen. They want her alive. The king mentioned something about 'conversion' or 'reprogramming.' If she resists, they plan to do to her what they did to Orlando."
Talulah felt something icy run down her spine—a chill that had nothing to do with Tegra's Frozen Body.
"Where is she now?"
"In her apartment in Bridge Cross. Derrin is with her. But Emilio already tried a mental probe. She resisted, but he won't give up."
"How much time do we have?"
"Dipil is moving slowly, marking his territory. Tegra is hovering, waiting for orders. Emilio is... spreading out. I'd say you have a few hours before something happens. But Kaelen needs to be extracted from there now."
Talulah exchanged a look with Orlando.
"I'll go," he said. "I'm the most resistant to physical damage. I can face Dipil or Tegra if necessary, and my animatronic nature might give me some resistance to Emilio."
"And me?" Talulah asked.
"You need to stay here. If the Loyalists are revealing themselves openly, it means the government no longer cares about secrecy. They want a war. We need a plan that goes beyond just rescuing one person."
"She's not 'just one person,'" Talulah corrected gently. "She's the key. The dormant genetic marker she carries... if the king wants her so badly, it means she's important. More important than we imagined."
Orlando nodded slowly.
"I'll bring her back," he promised. "Alive. Intact. And with her mind still hers."
He turned to leave, but Talulah called him back.
"Orlando. Be careful with Emilio. He's not just a robot with psychic powers. He's a cibopath—he can merge with technology, with systems, with networks. If he gets into your mind..."
"I know." Orlando smiled—a metallic smile, but genuine. "But I'm not just a robot either. I'm a human consciousness in an indestructible body. I've already undergone a forced transfer. I've already been reprogrammed. And yet, here I am, choosing my own path."
He clenched his metallic fist.
"If Emilio tries to possess me... he'll find that my mind isn't a pleasant place to be."
---
On the surface, in Bridge Cross...
Kaelen and Derrin were trapped.
Not literally—not yet. But Tegra's presence in the sky and Dipil in the streets made any attempt to escape suicidal. And Emilio's mental pressure, though temporarily receded, still lingered like a promise of violation.
"We need to get out of here," Derrin said for the tenth time.
"Where to?!" Kaelen gestured toward the window. "Look out there! There's a colossal sphere floating above our heads and a scorpion the size of a human patrolling the streets! And even if we manage to get past them, there's the third one—the one that enters minds!"
"I have an idea about that."
They both turned to find Thessa entering the corridor, her three heads rotating to monitor all angles. She carried a heavy bag that jingled with something metallic.
"How did you get here?" Kaelen asked, astonished.
"The Loyalists are focused on the main streets. I came across the rooftops." Thessa set the bag down and opened it. "And I brought gifts."
Inside the bag were strange devices—a mixture of technology and something that looked...organic. Twisted plants that glowed faintly, encapsulated in glass tubes. Circuits that pulsed like veins. And in the center...
"Oh, a crystal that emitted a pale blue light.
"What is this?" Derrin asked.
"Consortium technology," Thessa explained. "I... acquired it from one of the abandoned labs in Hell Fort. Before the Loyalists sealed off the district." She picked up one of the tubes containing glowing plants. "This is a Botanical Neutralizer. The plants have been genetically modified to react to psionic fields. If Emilio attempts a mind probe near you, it will create interference. It won't block him completely, but it will make it more difficult."
She handed one tube to Kaelen and another to Derrin.
"And this," she held up the blue crystal, "is an Onolyn Fragment. A piece of our moon, collected on an expedition decades ago. They say it emits a frequency that disturbs creatures with insect DNA."
"Dipil," Kaelen understood.
"Exactly. It won't kill him, but it will disorient him. Enough time to escape."
"And for Tegra?"
Tessa hesitated. "Tegra... is the most difficult. Colossal size. Immunity to acid. Magical reflection. Icy body that resists physical damage until melted." She sighed with all three mouths simultaneously. "The only weakness I found in the records is his motivation. He's obsessed with entropy—with the end of ordered structures. If you can present him with something that represents a greater threat to order than yourselves, he might... be distracted."
"What kind of threat?"
"The Awakening," Thessa said simply. "The things that sleep in the ocean. If Tegra knows that true chaos is coming from the depths, and not from a group of rebels, perhaps he will redirect his attention. Or at least hesitate."
Kaelen processed this. It was a flimsy plan, full of "ifs" and "maybes." But it was the only one they had.
"Alright," she said, putting the Botanical Neutralizer in her pocket. "Let's do this. But first..."
She went to the window and looked at the pale sky, at Tegra's colossal sphere.
"I want to try something."
"What?" Derrin asked.
"My eyes. The dormant marker." She took a deep breath. "Tessa said I can assimilate characteristics of other species. That it's hereditary. That it's dormant within me." She turned to face them. "What if I could... accelerate the awakening? Use whatever it is to help us?"
"Kaelen, this is dangerous—"
"Standing here waiting to be captured or killed is dangerous too!" She clenched her fists. "I've seen what Talulah can do. She's a Kla-human hybrid. And I... I have something similar, don't I? Something that allows me to mimic other species. If I can access that consciously, instead of just letting it happen involuntarily..."
Tessa watched her with her six eyes.
"There are records," she said slowly, "of sleepers awakening under extreme stress. Life-or-death situations. The survival instinct activating the genetic marker."
"Then help me," Kaelen pleaded. "Tell me how."
"There is no 'how.' It's... visceral. Instinctive. You need to want to survive so badly, to adapt so badly, that your body simply... responds."
Kaelen closed her eyes.
Wanting to survive.
She thought of her mother and father, Hoslin farmers who never understood why their daughter could mimic the eyes of the Kla. She thought of her grandmother, who told stories about "doors that couldn't be closed." She thought of Dos, her hometown, where poverty and injustice were as common as the brown grass number 1.
She thought of Talulah Voelkel, who had rebelled against her creators.
She thought of Orlando Szohr, who had lost his human body but not his humanity.
She thought of herself, afraid, cornered, but still... fighting.
I want to survive.
I want to adapt.
I want to... AWAKEN.
Her eyes opened.
And for a moment, they were no longer just Hoslin's eyes.
They were Kla's eyes—fully retractable, four eagle pupils, capable of seeing in spectra that normal humans could not perceive. But they were also something more. Something new. The pupils divided, multiplied, and Kaelen saw the world as never before.
She saw the temporal currents Talulah manipulated—thin lines of possibility stretching forward and backward. She saw Emilio's psionic energy as a purple mist seeping through the streets. She saw Dipil's molecular structure, the rocky aspect of his carapace, the microscopic weaknesses in his armor.
She saw Tegra not as a solid sphere, but as a complex network of energy—and at its center, a vulnerable core.
"Kaelen?" Derrin's voice seemed to come from far away. "Your eyes..."
She blinked, and the vision was gone.
Not completely—she could still feel remnants of that heightened perception, like a muscle that had been exercised for the first time. But the intensity diminished.
"I saw," she whispered, marveling. "I saw everything."
"Tessa, what was that?" Derrin asked.
The three-headed Rere smiled—a triple smile that was both triumphant and worried. "That," she said, "was a