The aftermath of the Pythia Initiative broadcast had sent tremors through the galactic aristocracy. Every major power house was still scrambling to make sense of the Reyes-Zey'ran alliance's declaration, but Cassian Reyes had already moved on to the next phase of his agenda.
A private chamber within the Reyes stronghold had been repurposed into a war room. Hololithic projectors displayed streams of applications, genetic compatibility assessments, and classified reports—all related to the upcoming Pythia trials. Orion stood at the side, watching as his father scrutinized the names flashing across the screens.
Beside Cassian, Rylan worked with surgical precision, sorting through the registrants with silent efficiency. Then, without hesitation, he removed entire factions from the list. Entire noble houses, entire bloodlines—erased with a simple command.
Orion frowned, his arms crossing over his chest as he glanced at the shifting names on the screen. His voice was measured, but there was an edge beneath it. "Who just got cut?" he asked, his gaze flicking toward his father.
Cassian barely spared him a glance, his fingers tapping against the console in an unhurried rhythm. "The Erythians, the Virean Collective, the Kahirnate—and, of course, anyone with even the slightest affiliation to Codex Chrysalis," he said, his tone cool, decisive, as if he were simply stating a universal truth.
"The Codex agents make sense," he said carefully. "But the Erythians? The Kahirnate? You're barring entire factions over old conflicts?"
Cassian finally looked at him, expression unreadable. "No, Orion. These were deliberate betrayals."
A flick of his fingers, and a new projection appeared—a list of those who had opposed the Reyes family in the past decade. The names weren't just enemies of war. Some had once been allies, or at least neutral.
But neutrality, Orion realized, was not a shield against Cassian's retribution.
"Every name here represents an individual or a house that sought to undermine us, to weaken us when we needed strength the most." Cassian's voice was calm, methodical, yet there was an unmistakable sharpness underneath. "The Erythians thought they could sanction us, pressure us into conceding against Codex Chrysalis. The Kahirnate sheltered Chrysalis defectors while demanding access to our trade routes."
Orion folded his arms. "And now, because of those actions, their entire bloodlines are cut off from Pythia?"
"Naturally, yes," Cassian said smoothly, his gaze unwavering as he studied Orion's expression. He tilted his head slightly, as if assessing whether his son truly grasped the implications.
Rylan's voice was cool, professional. "Any affiliation with those factions will result in immediate disqualification. The Reyes-Zey'ran Initiative is not a gift for our enemies."
Orion had to admit, the logic was airtight. But it also felt... excessively personal.
"You want them to suffer for ever having dared to move against us." he said, watching his father.
Cassian let out a small, cold chuckle. "Would you rather I reward them for it?"
Orion didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied the projection, the vast list of those denied access to the future his family had just unveiled.
Orion glanced back at his father and found himself wondering: Was this ruthlessness necessary? Or was it simply the indulgence of a man who never forgot a slight?
Orion turned away from the projection, his mind threading through the implications of what he had just witnessed.
His father wasn't just securing dominance—he was enforcing it.
Power, in Cassian's world, was not something to be negotiated or shared. It was imposed. Ruthlessly. Unapologetically.
And yet, as Orion studied the long list of the excluded, a cold thought crept in.
If you make it impossible for your enemies to submit, you give them no choice but to resist.
He exhaled, watching Cassian instruct Rylan to finalize the sanctions. The move was calculated, but it wasn't just strategic—it was personal.
The Erythians had sanctioned the Reyes family in the middle of the Codex Chrysalis War, forcing them into concessions and disadvantageous trades just to maintain their war effort. Cassian hadn't forgotten.
And now, with Reyes supremacy all but solidified, he was returning the favor.
Orion had no sympathy for the Erythians. They had gambled on his family's defeat.
Orion studied his father as Cassian gave the final confirmation to erase the Erythians from the Pythia Initiative, ensuring their exclusion from the next step of human evolution.
He thought about the families being cut off. The houses that would never get the chance to wield what the Reyes and Zey'rans had unlocked.
Power was never meant to be begged for. Orion understood that instinctively. It had to be taken. Seized. Enforced.
The Erythians wouldn't forget. Neither would the Virean Collective, or the Kahirnate, or the dozens of factions who had once been players in the great game and now found themselves shut out.
His father had crushed them, but he hadn't destroyed them.
And what do the defeated do when they have no way forward?
They gather in the dark.
The war against Codex Chrysalis flashed before Orion's eyes, data streams unfolding—battle records, casualty rates, classified testing reports.
The war had been more than just a conflict.
It had been a testing ground.
Cassian had authorized deploying experimental weapons and hybrid warfare tactics under the guise of military necessity.
The Reyes forces' dominance hadn't just been a result of superior tactics or strategy. It was the result of testing bleeding-edge technology in real conflict—technology most factions hadn't even theorized yet.
Orion's eyes flicked over the reports.
Prototype neural-linked exoskeletons.
Experimental resonant weapons calibrated for selective atomic destabilization.
Codex Chrysalis had been fighting a war.
Cassian had been running a live experiment.
Orion swallowed, his throat tight as he processed the implications.
His father had used soldiers as data points. Not just weapons, but measuring tools, variables in a grand equation.
He understood the cold efficiency of it. The logic was irrefutable. The Reyes forces had emerged as the most technologically advanced military force in existence.
But the thought of it unsettled him.
Cassian had always spoken of the war in terms of necessity. Of strategy.
But Orion was starting to wonder.
Had it been about winning?
Or had it been about something else entirely?
"You must be wondering—why am I doing this?" Cassian said, his voice steady, yet edged with something more. He watched Orion carefully, the way a master strategist observes the shifting pieces on a board.
"You've dismantled the Dominion's illusion of control," Orion said, his voice even, though a trace of something unreadable lingered beneath it. He studied his father, trying to gauge just how far ahead Cassian had seen. "They spent years trying to push the boundaries of human evolution, and in a single broadcast, you made them obsolete."
Cassian's lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, more an acknowledgment of Orion's insight. "And?" he prompted, tilting his head slightly, as if testing whether Orion had truly grasped the depth of what had been set in motion.
Orion exhaled. He had been watching, absorbing every detail. The power plays. The strategic exclusions. The way his father had sanctioned entire factions with a single ruling. The war against Codex Chrysalis had been more than a conflict—it had been an experiment.
Orion remained silent, his thoughts swirling in a tangled storm. Why did it have to be like this?
Why did he have to oppose the aristocracy, the Petrosyans, the Dominion—every established power in existence?
But was that truly the only way forward?
Cassian nodded once. "Good."
He stepped closer, the glow of the data streams casting faint patterns over his sharp features. When he spoke next, his voice was lower, edged with something deeper than strategy.
"This is only the beginning," he said. "Pythia is a proof of concept. But evolution doesn't stop at genetic augmentation. Not anymore."
Orion felt the shift in tone. This was Cassian's real vision. The one he had yet to unveil to the galaxy.
Cassian exhaled slowly, as if savoring the weight of his next words. His gaze was distant, yet alight with a quiet fervor. "The Genesis Strain, the Reyes technological supremacy, and Hekatryon—each one, a revolution in its own right. But together?" He looked back at Orion, his expression unreadable, yet something unshakable burned beneath it. "Together, they are my dream. The culmination of everything I have fought for. The next step beyond humanity as we know it."
Orion's mind raced. The Genesis Strain—the very foundation of enhanced evolution. The Reyes family's unmatched technological advancements, from neural warfare to biomechanical augmentation. And Hekatryon, the material that defied conventional physics, that responded to comprehension rather than genetics.
Orion met his father's gaze. He could feel the weight of the question pressing against him—not just as an intellectual exercise, but as a test of where he stood. What kind of future did he want?
He didn't answer right away. Because for the first time, he was beginning to realize—Pythia was only the start. The war with Codex Chrysalis, the sanctions, the alliances, the betrayals—all of it was leading to something much greater.