The forest was calm, a contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. After the intensity of the fight with Deá, I’d been eager to return to the nest, to I?a and the eggs. Yet a sense of dread had followed me all the way through the dense woods, twisting into a knot in my stomach. I wasn’t particurly eager to tell her that I’d kissed another woman, but I’m not the sort to hide something like this either. I’ll take my lumps like a big girl, and I won’t compin in the slightest.

  As I approached the clearing, I spotted I?a by the nest, her form bathed in the soft glow cast by the eggs. The glowing from our eggs surprised me. But then again, nothing about this situation is standard. Not for me, and definitely not for I?a. She looked different somehow, and her scent was different. She smelled… stronger, somehow. More potent. Achingly familiar.

  As I drew closer to the nest, the scent of I?a filled my senses—rich and yered, carrying notes of earth, warmth, and something distinctly hers. It was a scent I recognized, though I didn’t know why. It stirred something deep within me, something intense and overwhelming, as if every fibre of my being knowing that this woman belonged to me. That she was mine.

  My chest tightened, and a low growl rumbled in my throat before I could stop it. The sound startled me, snapping me out of the haze. I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought, but the instinct lingered, coiling at the edges of my mind like a predator waiting to strike.

  I?a turned her head at the sound, her sharp eyes locking onto mine. She didn’t look startled or armed—just curious, as if she were sizing me up.

  “You’re back,” she said, her voice steady but edged with something I couldn’t pce.

  “I am,” I replied, stepping closer to the nest. The pulsing glow of the eggs caught my eye again, their faint light humming with an energy I could feel in my bones. It was awe-inspiring and unsettling all at once. “How are things here?”

  “Quiet,” she said, her voice calm but weighty. “But strange. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  I nodded, bracing myself. “What is it?”

  She gestured toward the eggs, her hand brushing lightly over one of the glowing shells. “The system. The Feral Survival System, as it calls itself. It made itself known to me after the eggs were id. It lets me sense their energy, their progress, but… it’s limited. Restricted.”

  The weight of her words pressed down on me. “Restricted?” I asked, though I already suspected where this was going.

  “Yes.” Her gaze turned sharp, pinning me in pce. “It says I need your knowledge. Your consent. It won’t let me fully access its features, and it’s because of you.”

  My stomach dropped. The system. I fucking hate this thing. I hate that I also love it. Objectively, It’s helped me survive a hopeless situation, allowing me to grow stronger in ways I’ve never thought possible. However, Before I arrived in this world, I really didn’t care about getting stronger. I was content with my desk job that had afforded me a holiday once every few years. And now it was going after I?a. My I?a. I loved her so much. Isn’t that strange? I’d honestly never spoken with her all that much, but I felt…attached to her. I separably so. I look up, noticing she’s still waiting for me to speak and I sigh.

  “Because of me,” I echoed, the words hollow on my tongue.

  “Yes,” she said, her tone firmer now. “What aren’t you telling me, Imperialis? Why is this system waiting on you?”

  I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Alright. I suppose this expnation also needs an expnation. I’m… not from here,” I said finally. “This world, this pce—it’s not where I came from.”

  Her brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t always like this,” I admitted. “I used to be human. When I first arrived here, I still had my human body. The system—it’s what allowed me to survive. It let me evolve, gain traits, adapt to this world. But I wasn’t born like this.” I gestured to myself, at the wings and scales that had become part of me. “The system changed me.”

  Her eyes widened, her composure faltering for the first time. “Human?” she repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief. “You’re telling me that Imperialis—an Elder Dragon—was once human?”

  “Yes,” I said quietly. “I didn’t ask for this, I?a. I didn’t choose it. It just… happened.”

  She stared at me, her expression shifting from confusion to something harder. “And you didn’t think to tell me this before?” Her voice was tense, carrying a sharp edge of anger. “You’ve been hiding this from me while I’ve—”

  “I wasn’t hiding it,” I interrupted, my own frustration boiling over. “I just didn’t know how to expin it. Do you think I understand this any better than you do? Do you think I wanted this?”

  Her jaw tightened, but the anger in her eyes gave way to something softer—something like hurt. “If you weren’t born here,” she said slowly, her voice quieter now, “then maybe… you didn’t survive in your old world.”

  The words hit me like a lightning strike, stopping me in my tracks. The storm, the shipwreck, waking up in a body that wasn’t mine—it had all felt like some strange twist of fate, something I wasn’t meant to question. But now, with I?a’s words hanging in the air, the possibility settled over me like a heavy weight.

  “I…” My voice faltered. “I don’t know.”

  I?a’s sharp gaze softened slightly, though tension still lingered in her shoulders. “If that’s true,” she said carefully, “then what you’ve become—it’s not just about you any more. It’s about us. The eggs. This… line.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I said again, my voice raw. “And asking the system about it has yielded no results beyond it stating its purpose, to ensure the survival and evolution of it’s host.”

  She studied me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Then she tilted her head slightly, her tone softer but no less insistent. “If you weren’t always Imperialis, then who were you? What was your name?”

  My heart clenched at the question. My name. My real name. I hadn’t said it aloud in so long, hadn’t allowed myself to think about whom I’d been before all of this. But I couldn’t hide it from her—not now.

  “Hanna,” I said finally, the word heavy with the weight of everything I’d left behind. “My name was Hanna.”

  I?a stared at me, repeating the name softly. “Hanna,” she said, testing it on her tongue. Then she let out a faint snort, shaking her head. “It doesn’t sound like the name of an Elder Dragon.”

  “That’s because it was meant for a human,” I said ftly,

  Her lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile, though her eyes remained serious. “Well, Hanna,” she said, her tone steady but firm, “I hope you figure out what you’re supposed to be. Because the eggs are counting on you. And so am I.”

  I nodded, the weight of her words settling in my chest. “I will. I promise.”

  The glow of the eggs pulsed faintly around us, their light filling the space between us. There was so much to face, so much to understand, but for now, I’d taken the first step.

  The silence stretched between us, the soft hum of the eggs casting faint light across the nest. I?a’s hand lingered on one of the shells, her sharp eyes flicking to me with a mixture of curiosity and measured frustration.

  “This system,” she said, her tone even but firm. “It said it’s tied to you. It’s waiting for your consent. What does that mean?”

  I exhaled slowly, the weight of her question pressing down on me. “It means,” I said carefully, “that it won’t let you fully access its features until I… do something. Agree to something.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Agree to what?”

  Before I could answer, I shifted uncomfortably, raking my cws lightly over the dirt beneath me. “It’s complicated. The system isn’t exactly user-friendly—it doesn’t expin itself fully. It works based on bioenergy, which it uses to fuel everything.”

  “Bioenergy,” she repeated, tilting her head slightly. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  I hesitated, the words feeling heavier than they should. “It’s… time,” I said finally. “For both of us. The system uses bioenergy as a kind of currency, defined as my lifespan. If you run out, you start burning through your own life. And if you completely deplete it…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

  “You die,” I?a said bluntly, her sharp gaze fixed on me.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She didn’t flinch, didn’t recoil. She only studied me with that same unreadable intensity, waiting for me to continue.

  “To gain bioenergy,” I expined, “I have to consume creatures or pnts. Usually, that means eating them. But it’s not just food—it’s about taking in their energy, their essence. That’s the only way to replenish what I use. It does make me hungry though.”

  “And how do you use it?” she asked, her tone softer now.

  “The system lets me make changes—mutations, adaptations—but only if I’ve been exposed to the trait I want. That means consuming something with that trait first. If I want tougher scales, I have to consume something that has them. The system takes what I’ve absorbed and lets me adapt it to my own biology.”

  Her expression tightened as her hand stilled on the egg. “So everything you’ve become—all these changes—they came from creatures you consumed.”

  I nodded again, my chest tightening. “Yeah. When I first got here, I didn’t have any of this. I was still human. But the system pushed me to adapt, to survive. It was either change or die.”

  She let the words hang in the air for a moment before her gaze drifted back to the eggs. “And now it’s tying me to this,” she murmured, more to herself than to me.

  “I didn’t mean for it to,” I said quickly. “I didn’t even know it could. But it’s saying it needs my consent to fully integrate you. To give you access to… everything.”

  She turned back to me, her sharp gaze cutting through my words. “Then give it.”

  I blinked, startled by her certainty. “You’re sure? It’s not just power—it’s risk. If you use too much bioenergy—”

  “Then I’ll burn through my life,” she interrupted. “I understand. But if the system’s tied to me already, then I need to understand it fully. I need to use it.”

  I hesitated, the memory of my own feeding frenzies cwing at the edges of my mind. “I’ve burned myself out before,” I admitted. “Twice. The first time, I didn’t know what was happening, and I… lost control. The second time was better in some ways but worse in others. I chose to go into the frenzy to be able to freely control bioenergy, skipping the need to eat something called Xeno’Jiiva.”

  Her eyes softened slightly, but her resolve didn’t waver. “That’s why you were destroying the ecosystem? Why?”“Because the ability was too important to wait for. Except that it almost got you kidnapped. I?a, If you had been taken from me, I would have- I don’t know what I’d have done!”She pces a hand on my own scaled hand. “But it’s fine now. I’m fine now. And you know better now. And…If I can stand with you in this, then all the better for us both.”

  Her words settled over me, cutting through the fear that gripped my chest. With a deep breath, I nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

  Before I could second-guess myself, the system shimmered to life before me, its translucent dispy floating in the air. The glowing text scrolled across the screen.

  Feral Survival System NotificationSecondary Host Identified: I?aIntegration Pending: Primary Host Consent Required

  Accept Secondary Host Integration?[Y] / [N]

  “It’s asking me to confirm,” I said aloud, my voice steady despite the weight of the decision.

  “Then confirm it,” I?a replied, her tone calm but resolute.

  I reached out to the dispy, my cwed finger hovering over the glowing [Y]. With a deep breath, I pressed the prompt. The screen fred briefly, the glow fading to reveal a new message.

  Integration ConfirmedSecondary Host Integration Complete.Shared Functions Enabled.The dispy vanished, and I gnced at I?a, expecting her to look confused. Instead, her eyes widened, her head tilting slightly as though she were seeing something I couldn’t.

  “I see it,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my chest tightening.

  “The system,” she murmured, her gaze distant as though she were reading something invisible. “It’s… showing me things. Traits I could gain. Abilities I could borrow from you.”

  “Borrow?” I echoed, my stomach twisting.

  She nodded, her expression tightening as she focused on the system. “It says I can take on your traits. Scales, cws, wings… everything you’ve developed. But it costs bioenergy. Time. Years of my life.”

  The words hit me like a blow, the implications settling heavily in my chest. “And you’re okay with that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Her gaze shifted back to me, her expression calm but resolute. “If it means protecting the eggs, protecting us, I’ll consider it.”

  I clenched my fists, the memory of the system’s demands pressing against my mind. “Just… be careful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Don’t let it take more than you can give. I’ve been there, I?a. I don’t want that for you.”

  Her lips quirked into a faint smile, her sharp edges softening. “I won’t,” she said. “But I trust you, Hanna. And if you can survive this system, so can I.”

  We fall into a comfortable silence, her leaning against me while we stare at our young. The Egg’s glow slowly faded while we watch them, repced by pink lustrous scales, each one overpping the other in rings that were reminiscent of my own scales. “Hey.” She said, looking up at me with mischief in her eyes. “Are you hungry?”