Veyrath had refined the Hollowed into something more.
The Forgotten were no longer bound by orders alone.
They could act.
They could think.
They could evolve.
But autonomy was not a switch to be flipped.
It was something that needed to be tested, nurtured, sharpened.
Because while they could now function without direct command—
Would they?
Could they adapt without him?
Or would they still seek his guidance when uncertainty struck?
That was what he needed to discover.
That was what would determine if they were truly worthy of existence.
And so, the next phase of testing began.
Veyrath stood atop a stone outcrop at the edge of the settlement.
Below him, the three Forgotten waited.
They had been tested in strength.
In resilience.
In stealth.
But now, they would be tested in instinct.
"You will hunt," he said simply.
No further instructions.
No limitations.
Just the directive itself.
A human mind would ask questions.
Would seek clarity.
The Forgotten did not.
They simply moved.
Each in a different direction.
And that was the first sign that they were progressing.
Not acting as a group.
Not seeking a leader.
But deciding for themselves.
Now, he would watch.
And learn.
Each Forgotten chose their own method.
The first was direct.
A warrior's approach.
It tracked a group of traders passing through the outskirts of the settlement.
Did not hesitate.
Did not calculate.
It struck.
Swift.
Precise.
Deadly.
No subtlety.
No deception.
It had interpreted 'hunt' as 'kill.'
A flaw?
Or a refinement of its own nature?
Veyrath watched without interfering.
The second was different.
It did not immediately attack.
Instead, it stalked its prey.
A lone mercenary scouting the area.
It studied his movements.
Learned his habits.
Observed how he reacted to sounds, to shadows.
And only when it had understood him completely—
Did it strike.
Not killing.
Not yet.
Instead, it disoriented him.
Dismantled his perception of reality.
Spoke in his own voice.
Walked past him unseen, then made itself known just at the edge of his vision.
Breaking his mind before it broke his body.
This one was learning deception.
Learning how to control a hunt rather than simply engaging it.
That was potential.
That was valuable.
The third?
The third was nowhere to be found.
Veyrath frowned.
Scanned the landscape.
It had not returned.
Had not been seen again since departing.
That meant one of two things.
Either it had failed—
Or it had decided something entirely different.
And that was the most intriguing result of all.
Hours passed.
The first two returned.
They did not speak.
They did not bow.
They simply stood, waiting.
But the third never came back.
Veyrath's mind analyzed the possibilities.
Had it been killed?
Had it decided not to return?
Or had it realized that it no longer needed him?
The idea of defiance intrigued him more than it angered him.
Because if the Forgotten could make choices beyond orders—
Then they were no longer his tools.
They were a force.
One that would eventually spread beyond his control.
Which meant he had to know what had happened.
And so, he hunted his own creation.
Veyrath moved through the woods outside the settlement.
His presence a shadow among shadows.
He did not call out.
Did not demand its return.
He simply searched.
And then, he found it.
Not in hiding.
Not waiting.
It was standing at the edge of a road, watching a group of travelers pass by.
Not attacking.
Not moving.
Just watching.
As if contemplating something.
And that was when Veyrath realized—
It was choosing.
Not just acting on instinct.
Not just following a command.
It was deciding for itself whether or not to kill.
And in that moment, Veyrath understood the true weight of what he had created.
The third Forgotten turned to him.
Not startled.
Not ashamed.
Simply aware.
As if it had expected him to come.
"Why did you not return?" Veyrath asked.
The creature studied him.
Then, finally, it spoke.
"I was… considering."
The response was not immediate.
Not instinctive.
It was processed.
Thought about.
And that meant it was no longer just a creation.
It was something that had begun to think for itself.
Something that no longer simply obeyed.
And that meant it was dangerous.
Not because it had turned against him—
But because it had the capacity to.
Veyrath was silent for a long moment.
Then, he simply smiled.
Because this was not a failure.
This was a success beyond anything he had imagined.
Veyrath had pushed the Forgotten further than any of his creations.
Beyond the Hollowed.
Beyond mindless servitude.
They were no longer just his weapons.
They were thinking.
Deciding.
Choosing.
And that was both a triumph and a threat.
Because power that was not bound to his will
Could become power that turned against him.
He had created a force that was on the verge of slipping from his grasp.
That could not be allowed.
Not yet.
Not until he was certain he could control it.
The third Forgotten had chosen not to return.
Had stood at the road, watching travelers instead of attacking.
That was not rebellion.
Not yet.
But it was a step toward it.
And Veyrath would not allow the path to lead further.
He turned his gaze upon the being that had begun to think.
It had no fear.
No hesitation.
Because it no longer processed reality the way mortals did.
It did not see him as a master.
Not anymore.
It saw him as a source.
And that had to be corrected.
"Kneel," Veyrath commanded.
The Forgotten did not move.
It did not disobey, but it did not obey either.
Instead, it studied him with an expression that was not quite defiance, but not submission either.
"Why?" it asked.
Veyrath exhaled slowly.
The answer was simple.
"Because you were created to serve me."
But even as he spoke the words,
He knew that was no longer enough.
The Forgotten were no longer simply creatures of obedience.
They were becoming something else.
If he wanted them to remain under his control,
He needed to ensure their loyalty ran deeper than mere command.
He needed to make them believe.
Obedience forced by power was unstable.
It could be broken.
It could be reversed.
But obedience that was woven into the very essence of a being?
That could not be undone.
So Veyrath did not give another order.
Instead, he traced new symbols into the earth.
A ritual not of Unmaking—
But of Binding.
A way to ensure that no matter how far they evolved,
They would always remain his.
The runes shifted, pulsing with dark energy.
The Forgotten did not resist.
Not because it was afraid—
But because it was curious.
It wanted to understand what he was doing.
And that meant it was still within his grasp.
The ritual was not pain.
Not suffering.
It was understanding.
A force that wrapped around the Forgotten's mind, reshaping its very nature.
Not stripping away its thoughts.
Not taking away its growth.
But ensuring that no matter how much it evolved—
It would always see him as its center.
Its origin.
The one it would always serve, not by force, but by nature.
The energy sank into the Forgotten's form.
And when it looked at Veyrath again—
It did not question.
It did not hesitate.
It knelt.
Not because it had been told to.
But because it now understood why it must.
Veyrath did not stop with one.
He performed the ritual upon all the Forgotten.
Ensuring that each of them retained their intelligence, their adaptability—
But were forever bound to him.
Not as mindless servants.
But as devoted ones.
Creatures that could act without orders, but would always act in his interest.
No matter how much they changed.
They would always belong to him.
And with that, his greatest threat
Became his greatest weapon.
The Hollowed were strong, but limited.
The Forgotten were powerful, but unstable.
Now, they were neither.
They were perfected.
A force that did not just obey—
But worshiped.
Not as a god.
Not as a master.
But as the foundation of their existence.
And that made them unstoppable.
Because belief was stronger than fear.
Loyalty woven into the soul could never be broken.
And now, they were truly his.
Forever.
The settlement was now completely his.
The Hollowed functioned as an extension of his will.
The Forgotten acted freely, but always in his favor.
There was nothing left to refine here.
No more experiments to conduct.
Only the next stage.
Because now, they were ready.
Now, they were more than a hidden force.
They were a plague waiting to spread.
And the world was unprepared.
So it was time.
Time to leave the trial ground.
Time to spread Unmaking beyond these borders.
Time to rewrite existence itself.
And this was just the beginning.