On a world far from Eryndor, a beautiful, humanoid, yet distinctly alien woman sat upon a throne of veined crystal, her silhouette refracting in the material of her seat. Pressure like an ocean flowed around her, putting the power of Lavinia and Elias to shame.
Her form was statuesque, slender as a blade of light, with faintly shimmering skin. A kind of translucent, intricate gossamer-like cloak extended down from her back, moving lazily as though stirred by an unseen breeze. It was neither a set of wings nor purely decorative—bioluminescent veins pulsed faintly within them, a display of emotion that only those of her kind could recognize.
Her eyes, starry pools without pupils, remained fixed on the holographic display flickering before her. Streams of alien text and images hovered in mid-air, reflecting off her silver cheekbones. Her hair—or what looked like it—cascaded in a series of segmented, glass-like strands down to her waist, clicking faintly as they shifted.
Her gaze shifted. Clenching her fist resolutely, she closed the holographic display, and looked over at the man kneeling before her throne, his head bowed. He was clearly of the same race as her, yet didn't possess the gossamer-like cloak she did.
Her voice flowed beautifully, like a clear waterfall, but her tone was icy cold. "Are you suggesting those beasts have figured out how to make more primogenitors?"
Noticing the cold fury in her voice, the man shivered a little, but stayed calm. "Nothing of the sort, Radiant One. Only that a new one has appeared… At least, according to the seers, who constantly monitor the psychic connection between them."
The woman's response was immediate and unsatisfied. "Hmpf. 'Monitor' is a fancy word for something that's never actually netted any results. Regardless, what of our spies? Do they have any news?"
Still keeping his head bowed, the man shook his head. "Nothing yet, Radiant One. Neither the beasts nor the vile ones seem to have been expecting this, but I have no doubt they are receiving their own reports on this thing's appearance."
A ridiculing glint passed through the woman's eyes, and, in a stately gesture, she slowly lifted her left hand, palm up. "You speak as though our spies are omnipotent, Eldarion. But I refuse to believe a new primogenitor appeared out of thin air!"
Eldarion nodded obediently, obviously not going to argue with the Radiant one. "Then, what are your orders?"
Lowering her hand again, the woman's starry eyes looked down on him with chilly dominance. "Figure out how this happened. I suggest you start by finding this mistake, extracting any and all information from them, and then…" Once again, raising her hand, she clenched it into a fist hatefully. "…ripping their DNA apart."
***
At the same time, on another world far from either Eryndor, or the Radiant One, a similar, yet vastly different scene was playing out.
This time, it was a handsome, giant of a man. His skin was a little scaly and leathery, while radiating a soft, reddish hue. On his forehead, a half-moon ridge of ingrown cartilage took the form of something that looked like a mix between horns and a crown.
From his back, a lizard-like tail extended down to his feet, swaying slightly. His eyes were like puddles of darkness with nothing in them.
He was alone and naked, with many scars rippling across his body as he walked into a large, luxurious, Roman bath-style water basin. The room he found himself in was made from smooth, black stone, and the pressure he exerted felt more like a mountain than an ocean, but was no less powerful than that of the Radiant One.
Sighing with pleasure, he lowered himself into the water and leaned back with a content grin on his somewhat scaly lips.
Just as he got comfortable, though, a sliding door opened, and a figure walked in calmly, their face contorted in one of consternation. This one, a pretty woman, was no less tall than the man, and possessed a ridge on her forehead as well.
As soon as she noticed the man in the bath, she opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by him.
"That's enough, Le'Zark," he smirked, speaking in a deep, casual tone, his eyes closed as he casually waved in her direction. "You know the rules. No bothering me in the bath unless you're willing to get in it with me."
Le'Zark sighed and rubbed the ridges on her forehead, clearly used to this man's behaviour. Yet, this matter was too important to indulge him. "A new primogenitor has appeared, Primarch. I don't think you'll—"
"What?!" the Primarch exclaimed, immediately jumping up again and looking at his subordinate intensely, pressure radiating off him like an avalanche. "Did either of them break their word?!"
Le'Zark, seemingly unbothered by his intimidating presence, looked at him calmly and shook her head. "Unknown at this time. All we know is that the neurocants picked up another signal entering the psychic network of primogenitors."
Immediately, the Primarch narrowed his eyes and sank into thought. Finally, he spoke again, a little grumpily. "Well, I'm sure you've already engaged the spy network to find out more, and set up a meeting with the Eldkin for me. So what else is there for me to do that couldn't have waited until after my bath? I'm sure I'll find it hard to relax now…"
Unbothered by his attitude, Le'Zark nodded at him sternly. "I've engaged all our resources at finding this new primogenitor, but I need your decision on how to handle them…"
Sighing, the Primarch closed his eyes, and rubbed the ridge on his forehead. Finally, he opened his eyes again, their darkness radiating an icy cold. "Try to recruit them if possible. If not, assess the situation. They can't end up in the hands of the Xelthari, but the Eldkin is… fine, tentatively. Tell our agents to use their judgement. Kill if necessary."
***
A final, once again similar but different scene, was taking place on a third world.
A stalwart, human-looking man with a square jaw and an intense gaze sat in an austere office. His short hair was black, and his eyes were brown. In front of him was a holographic screen filled with data that he appeared to be scanning through.
Suddenly, he frowned and looked up at the ceiling, before his eyes opened wide in surprise.
At the same time, an excited woman stormed into the room. Her hair was fiery red, and her eyes radiated with an intense blue. She was tall, perhaps as tall as Damian, and carried a dangerous spear on her back. Her face gave one an impression of fierce independence and power.
"Brother!" she exclaimed with a wide grin. "Did you feel that?!"
"I did," the man nodded slowly, only just recovering from his own surprise. "But that's impossible… Neither the Xelthari, nor the Zhra'Karn would risk it now."
"So what do we do?!" the woman continued in her excited tone, clearly uncaring for her brother's arguments.
The man fell silent. In these moments, he seemed to age a little, as if a heavy burden weighed on him. Finally, he spoke, his fingers drumming on the desk. "We do what we can… We try to find them. We find out what happened, and then… then we try to deal with the fallout as best we can."