Darwin was summoned the moment his boots touched stone.

  No guards.

  No ceremony.

  Just a single aide waiting at the gates of the Magisterium headquarters, face pale, eyes refusing to meet his.

  “The Magister is expecting you,” the aide said.

  Darwin nodded once and followed.

  The halls were quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that existed only in places where decisions were made that never reached daylight. Beneath the marble floors, the Veins pulsed faintly, their glow muted, as if even they were listening.

  Kohler’s study stood at the heart of the structure.

  The doors opened at Darwin’s approach.

  Kohler was already inside.

  He stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the city below. The lights of the capital glimmered faintly through reinforced glass—distant, unreal.

  “Close the door,” Kohler said without turning.

  Darwin did.

  For a moment, neither spoke.

  Then Kohler exhaled.

  “You exceeded the projected outcome.”

  Darwin’s lips twitched—not quite a smile.

  “I ended the war,” he said.

  Kohler turned slowly.

  “Yes,” he replied. “You did.”

  There was no pride in his voice. No anger.

  Only weight.

  “You were authorized to break the enemy line,” Kohler continued. “To force a retreat. To stabilize the western front.”

  Darwin met his gaze, eyes calm, empty.

  “They were torturing medics,” he said. “Unarmed. Marked.”

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  “I’ve read the report,” Kohler said quietly.

  “Then you know why I didn’t stop.”

  Kohler nodded once.

  “I do.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  The Veins hummed softly beneath the floor.

  “Do you regret it?” Kohler asked at last.

  Darwin didn’t answer immediately.

  When he did, his voice was steady.

  “No.”

  Kohler flinched—just slightly.

  “I regret that it was easy,” Darwin continued. “That once I started, there was no hesitation. No resistance. No doubt.”

  He looked down at his hands.

  “I regret that the world made sense while I was killing them.”

  Kohler closed his eyes.

  “That,” he said quietly, “is precisely why you are here.”

  Darwin looked up.

  “You’re afraid,” he said. Not accusing. Just stating a fact.

  “Yes,” Kohler replied. “I am.”

  “Of me?”

  “Of us,” Kohler corrected. “Of what we represent. Of why we exist.”

  He turned fully now, his expression drawn, older than Darwin remembered.

  “We created Wyrmbounds to stand against dragons,” he said. “Against extinction-level threats. Against forces that would unmake the world.”

  Darwin listened.

  “And then,” Kohler continued, “we used you to win a border war.”

  A humorless laugh escaped him.

  “A petty war.”

  Darwin said nothing.

  “You broke the symmetry,” Kohler went on. “One man should never be allowed to end a conflict simply by deciding it ends.”

  Darwin tilted his head slightly.

  “But a single family can decide to start the bloodiest wars imaginable,” he said calmly. “And continue them for generations.”

  Kohler didn’t answer.

  After a moment, Darwin spoke again.

  “You signed the isolation order.”

  Kohler didn’t deny it.

  “Cryosleep,” Darwin said. “Observation. Containment.”

  “Yes,” Kohler said. “Because what I sign matters less than what I choose to do next.”

  Darwin nodded slowly.

  “You’re going to put me on a shelf,” he said. “Until you need me again.”

  Kohler met his eyes.

  “No,” he said. “I’m going to put you somewhere out of reach.”

  “For whom?” Darwin asked.

  Kohler didn’t answer.

  Darwin smiled faintly.

  “There it is,” he said. “That hesitation.”

  Kohler’s jaw tightened.

  “You’re not a monster,” Kohler said. “But you are no longer just a man.”

  He took a breath.

  “I’m reassigning you to the Veins. You’ll lead an expedition into the deepest reaches of the network—into the Choir, the fractures, whatever lies beneath.”

  Darwin stepped closer, stopping just short of the Vein-lit boundary etched into the floor.

  “And you,” he said quietly, “are no longer just a teacher.”

  That landed.

  Kohler’s shoulders sagged—only a fraction.

  “If I let you walk free,” Kohler said, “the Emperor will demand you again—despite how terrified he is. The Tribunal will watch you. And when the truth of the Wyrmbound project reaches the public…”

  “The world will fear it,” Darwin finished.

  “Yes.”

  “And if you bury me in the Veins,” Darwin asked, “those problems vanish?”

  Kohler looked away.

  “Maybe.”

  They stood there—two architects of different failures.

  “You wanted weapons,” Darwin said at last. “You have an army of them. Training. Waiting. Stationed at Vein hotspots across the continent.”

  He turned toward the door.

  “Use us for what we were made for.”

  Kohler said nothing as Darwin left.

  The doors closed softly behind him.

  Only then did Kohler sink into his chair, staring at the faintly glowing Veins beneath the floor—at the pulse of a world that no longer asked permission.