Ancestral Lineage

"So, how do I get back? Do I have to pass another test of time or what?" Ethan asked after a moment of silence, his tone laced with both frustration and resignation.

Kael leaned back slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I don't know," he replied with a shrug.

Ethan blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"

Kael smirked faintly, his expression almost teasing. "It's not me you're going to face this time. You'll face a Creator, the other guy I mentioned last time."

"A Creator? As in a god?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowing.

Kael shook his head. "No, not quite. It's not anything that grandiose. I mean someone on the same level as me—a Primogenitor-level being. He's the 'you' from another reality, the origin of all dwarves. He's the one you're going to f—"

"That's enough, you white-skinned leech."
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A soft voice suddenly cut through Kael's speech, silencing him mid-sentence. The voice was so gentle and melodic that Ethan almost mistook it for a woman's, yet it carried an undeniable weight of authority. It felt divine, pure, and primal, resonating deeply within the air itself.

The world around them shifted instantly.

The bloody expanse transformed into a serene landscape of tall, majestic mountains, their brown peaks dusted with snow. Towering trees stood proudly against the backdrop, their leaves whispering in the breeze. A cascading waterfall sparkled under a golden sun, feeding into a crystal-clear stream that wound through a lush grassland. Fine meadows stretched far and wide, dotted with colorful flowers and peaceful, domesticated creatures grazing lazily. Birds chirped and sang harmoniously, their songs weaving a natural symphony that filled the air with life.

The only area that remained untouched by this transformation was the space where Kael and Ethan sat, though even that seemed to shimmer faintly as if resisting the overwhelming tranquility around it.

Kael's expression darkened with annoyance. He sighed, rubbing his temple as though warding off a headache. "Of course, you had to show up," he muttered, his tone dripping with irritation.

Ethan turned his head toward the source of the voice, scanning the serene landscape for its owner. "Who—?"

Before he could finish, a figure emerged from the treeline, stepping gracefully into view. Their form was cloaked in radiant light, making it impossible to discern their features clearly, but the aura they exuded was unmistakable—one of authority and calm power.

Kael clicked his tongue, his earlier composure cracking slightly. "Great. Just what we needed. The Creator has arrived."

"The one I'm going to meet this time?" Ethan asked, still bewildered by everything happening around him.

"Yeah. That dark-skinned goat," Kael replied nonchalantly, waving his hand as if it were no big deal.

"You shouldn't tell lies to the kid, you know," the soft voice interjected again, closer this time. Ethan instinctively turned to his left, but there was no one there.

"Yeah, yeah. Like you're any better than me," Kael retorted, rolling his eyes. "By the way, will you fucking quit this hide-and-seek game? The kid has to go back, you idiot!"

"Oi! You shouldn't insult people in front of kids," the voice responded, now coming from directly in front of them.

Suddenly, the earth split open in front of Ethan and Kael. Debris—dust, sand, gravel, roots, and rocks—flew into the air and swirled together, forming a humanoid shape mid-air. The radiant, ethereal being Ethan had sensed earlier descended into the incomplete form, fusing with it. A blinding light exploded outward, illuminating the serene landscape.

Ethan instinctively shielded his eyes from the overwhelming brightness, while Kael, utterly unbothered, stared at the unfolding spectacle with a look of sheer boredom.

"Can you finish already? We don't have all day," Kael muttered under his breath.

Finally, the light faded, and the voice spoke again, this time sounding cheerful. "Hi there, kid."

Ethan stopped shielding his eyes and looked around, confused. "Huh? Where?"

Kael stifled a snicker, jerking his chin forward. "Look down."

Ethan followed his gaze, and his jaw dropped. Standing before him was the supposed Creator—no taller than a child. They had a dark complexion, shimmering like polished obsidian, and glowing, golden eyes that held an amused glint. Their crystalline horns curled elegantly like those of a ram, and their hair, a cascade of silvery white, fell to their shoulders. Despite their stature, their presence was undeniably overwhelming, filling the air with an aura of unmatched power.

"What the—?! But Mom and Uncle David were tall..." Ethan muttered under his breath, still trying to process what he was seeing.

The being's face darkened with irritation, their golden eyes narrowing as they crossed their arms. "Really? What's your first reaction? Not a thank you for pulling you out of your little bloody tantrum or even a polite 'hello'?"

Kael smirked, clearly enjoying the Creator's annoyance. "Don't take it personally, Goat. The kid's brain's a bit fried right now."

The Creator shot Kael a glare but said nothing. Instead, they turned back to Ethan, their expression softening slightly. "Well, I suppose introductions are in order. You can call me Dri, but most people just call me 'the Creator.' And yes, I know—I'm short. Get over it."

...

Ethan's body, encased in a shimmering blue cocoon, suddenly released a wave of immense pressure that shattered the cocoon into countless shards of light. Before anyone in the cave could react, a second cocoon materialized around him. This one was formed from transparent earth and intertwined roots, glowing with a soft, brownish-gold light. The new cocoon radiated a calming aura that spread through the dim cave, easing the tension in the air.

"It seems... everything is alright," Trevor muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. Reclining on a makeshift bed of smoke, his eyes drooped from the sheer weight of stress and fatigue. He had pushed himself far beyond his limits, and it showed.

Scattered around the cave, the rest of the group rested as best they could. Some leaned against the jagged walls, while others sprawled across large rocks. Ethan's harem had clustered around his cocoon. The scene was almost animalistic: they clung to him with the intensity of a mother wolf guarding her pups. Even Andriel, her usual composure set aside, lay directly on the cocoon, her silvery hair draped over its glowing surface. Despite the earlier pressure from the cocoon's release, none of them seemed affected. They hadn't even noticed it. Only Trevor had borne the brunt of the overwhelming energy.

"A new Primogenitor, I suppose," Trevor murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the faint hum of the cocoon's energy.

Nearby, Leon lay unconscious, his body battered and bruised. Thick vines and tendrils of grey smoke wrapped protectively around him, their presence a clear sign of Trevor and Emily's handiwork. However, the most unsettling sight in the cave was Lamair's lifeless body. It lay just a few feet away from Ethan's cocoon, still bathed in the same golden light that had enveloped it since his death. The light shielded the corpse from view, sparing the others from seeing just how gruesome his condition truly was.

Trevor exhaled heavily, forcing himself to focus on the floating screen in front of him. It had changed. Once dark and foreboding, the screen now glowed with a radiant gold. Yet the quest it displayed remained unchanged, still marked as incomplete. The time limit had long since passed, and by all accounts, the system should have issued either rewards or punishments. But neither had come. The quest remained active; its outcome was uncertain. Trevor's gaze shifted to his subordinate symbol, which now glowed with an almost blinding intensity.

"Even now, he's thinking about us..." Trevor whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he allowed himself a brief reprieve, resting against the cool cave wall.

The cave itself was hidden from the outside world. Thanks to the combined efforts of Clara, Tia, and Trevor, their presence was cloaked by layers of illusion and protective wards. To the untrained eye, there was no sign of life within. But unbeknownst to them, they had an uninvited guest.

High above the cave, a figure hovered silently. She was shrouded in a serene blue light, her form indistinct but undeniably feminine. Her eyes, glowing faintly, remained fixed on the concealed cave below. Her expression was a storm of conflicting emotions—worry, confusion, anger, and fear flashed across her face in rapid succession, as though multiple personalities struggled for control within her.

The light around her pulsed softly, mirroring the turmoil inside her. For now, she stayed motionless, watching, waiting, and perhaps contemplating her next move. The calm before the storm hung heavy in the air.

...

Carmen lay sprawled on the leather sofa in her dimly lit office, her usual stoic demeanor shattered. A faint glow from the golden system screen hovered in front of her, casting warm light across her tear-streaked face. The screen's display was unchanged, still bearing the ominous text: "SAVE ETHAN." Despite the shift to a golden hue, which she hoped signified progress, the stagnant message weighed heavily on her heart.

The symbol on the back of her hand pulsed faintly, mirroring the golden glow of the screen. It offered no answers, only the faintest whisper of reassurance that something—anything—was stabilizing.

"I hope everything is fine," Carmen whispered, her voice trembling as tears began to spill. Her usual cold expression had crumbled, breaking apart like glass under pressure.

"I feel so useless..." she muttered, her hands gripping the edge of the sofa tightly as if anchoring herself. The tears came freely now, silent but relentless, carrying with them the frustration and helplessness she'd fought so hard to suppress.

In the solitude of her office, Carmen wept quietly, oblivious to the tides of fate that were already shifting. As always, fate played its games, but it had its favorites—and Carmen had yet to realize just how deeply entwined she was in its plans.

...

In a sleek, dimly lit chamber filled with holographic displays and panels softly pulsing with vibrant blue and gold hues, a figure sat at the head of a long, metallic table. The rhythmic hum of advanced machinery resonated through the room, accompanied by the occasional flicker of data streams that danced across translucent screens. Her presence dominated the space, her sharp features illuminated sporadically by the flickering glow, casting fleeting shadows that amplified her commanding aura.

Her calm expression betrayed a subtle amusement, though her eyes glinted with something far colder, far more calculating. When she spoke, her voice was smooth yet resonant, cutting through the technological hum like a blade.

"So, they are the cause, eh? A war they seek, I suppose?"

"Yes, mistress," replied a figure standing a respectful distance away, his posture rigid as though weighed down by the gravity of her words. The faint glow of the displays reflected off his uneasy expression.

She tilted her head slightly, humming thoughtfully as her fingers tapped a measured rhythm against the edge of the metallic table. "Hmm... Continue to watch them closely. Let them revel in their illusion of control—for now."

"Do you have a plan, mistress?" the subordinate asked carefully, his voice cautious as his eyes flickered to her face.

Her lips curved into a faint, almost predatory smile. "A plan? No, David. Not this time. I'm not scheming—I'm waiting. Waiting for my children to return."

David's brows furrowed briefly, confusion evident in his expression. "The young masters? But—"

"You still don't see, do you?" she interrupted her tone soft but laced with undeniable authority. Rising gracefully, her figure towered in the dim light, her silhouette commanding as the light from the holo displays danced along the contours of her sleek attire. "They are the reason for this war, the key to everything. Every move our enemies have made has been to erase them, to rewrite the narrative without them in it. And now, those fools think they've succeeded. They celebrate their fleeting, hollow victory."

She chuckled softly, the sound low and menacing, spreading like a dark current through the chamber. Each note carried a chilling promise of retribution, vibrating with an almost tangible energy.

"Fools," she muttered, her smile twisting into something sharper, something dangerous. "They believe the game is over. But the truth? The real game hasn't even begun."

Her laughter deepened, a haunting melody that echoed endlessly, reverberating off the metallic walls.

"I wonder..." she mused, her voice dripping with scorn as her gaze seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. "What will they feel when my children step through that portal? Fear? Regret? Despair? Hah!" She laughed again, this time louder, as though savoring the thought. "Their faces... their pathetic, crumbling pride. It will be a masterpiece—one I'll savor for a lifetime."

Her laughter ebbed, leaving the room in a silence that felt heavier than before. Her sharp smile lingered as she turned her gaze to the flickering holo displays, her voice dropping to a near-whisper that carried an unshakable finality.

"Let them think they've won. It will make their fall all the more satisfying."