In a hidden part of the world, in a dark room, there was a round table in the middle. Surrounding it were 12 chairs, each with different symbols at the top of the backrest. In the center of the table was a large enough candlestick that held dozens of candles, illuminating the table and its surroundings easily. Ten of the twelve chairs were occupied, while two were empty. All ten people appeared mostly old, though some looked younger.

A man with round glasses, seated at the head of the round table, raised his voice:

"Yes, old man, why did you gather us here? This had better be important for your sake."

Another elderly man on the other side of the table chuckled for a moment, then pulled a book from the inside pocket of his large coat and placed it on the table. Another elderly man spoke next, a bald, medium-height man with a calm demeanor:

"Hey, Zarin, you know we’re already two people short. If something this important had happened, Morgathar would’ve known. Just like Lyr—"

At that moment, a cough from a woman at the table interrupted him.

"Yes, Zarin, you can continue."

A middle-aged man with long black hair spoke up:

"The last time you made such an urgent call was when the prodigy of the Hunter family was born. Back then, there were 12 of us. If this were so important, as Eldric said, all 12 of us would be here again. We’ve all left something important behind to come here, so it had better be at least as crucial as the Hunter family’s prodigy."

The man called Zarin, with white hair and a white beard, chuckled again and began to speak:

"I’ll get straight to the point. You’re all acting like I’ve skewered you."

He opened the book and tossed it toward the man with long black hair. This man’s name was Thalor.

"Alright, Thalor, would you read aloud the topic and the cover of the book?"

Thalor turned the book and looked at the cover. Everyone leaned forward in curiosity. Those who could read it made no connection, and they started murmuring among themselves. Thalor remained silent, still staring at the cover of the book. Zarin shouted loudly:

"Well, can you tell me the title of the book now?"

Thalor calmly placed the book down and spoke:

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"Originals."

The others who hadn’t seen the book began murmuring among themselves. What could the Originals have to do with this? Even if they were searching for an Original for the Grand Council of Magic, almost everyone at the table already had a symbiote. And finding even one Original was near impossible. A green-haired man with glasses slammed his hand on the table, his anger evident in his eyes. Zarin smiled slightly and spoke:

"Yes, Vaelen, did you have something to ask?"

The green-haired man shouted angrily:

"Did you gather us here just to show us a stupid book? Many of us, including myself, weren’t even on Earth when it arrived. Was this all for a simple book?"

Zarin became serious, adjusting his beard before he spoke again:

"We received a signal passing near our solar system."

Although no one was sure where this was leading, some began to fear the possible conclusion. Zarin continued:

"This signal, most likely, belongs to a symbiote."

Those who had been thinking about it started piecing things together more easily, and one of the women at the table began trembling. Zarin went on:

"We’ve technically confirmed that a symbiote passed near our solar system. But that’s not the problem. Millions of symbiotes pass through space every week without us even being aware of it."

Despite everyone’s courage and authority visibly shaken, the young man with round glasses stammered and shouted:

"H-Hey old man, are you saying you gathered us here for a stupid symbiote?"

He formed a massive fireball in his hand, clearly trying to mask his fear with false bravery. There was a part of the table that the candles didn’t illuminate, and the man sitting in that dark area was only partially visible—his long beard and medium-length hair could be made out. His age was evident from his beard. From the darkness, his hand rose, and he lifted the young man into the air.

"Orin, you should remain silent when the elders are speaking."

Magical fields opened in the air, and chains emerged from the void. Orin’s hands were bound together, and the fire in his hand extinguished. Orin’s energy had completely drained; his color had faded. Even though he was aware of what had happened, he no longer had the strength or magic to move. He collapsed back into his chair, paralyzed. Zarin spoke:

"Thank you, Wise Aurelius."

Clearing his throat, Zarin continued:

"The only problem with the symbiote we detected was that its magical power was so vast that even if a planet had suddenly entered the solar system, the combined magical energy of all the creatures and minerals on that planet couldn’t have matched the terrifying energy of this symbiote."

Everyone at the table was visibly trembling. Though they tried to calm themselves by discussing and asking questions, they all knew that once the connection between the book and the symbiote was made, nothing good would follow. Zarin continued:

"Yes, as you’ve all guessed, I believe this symbiote, which emits such immense magical energy, is one of the most powerful half-Originals, if not an Original itself. I’ll take your questions now."

Without delay, a blonde woman’s voice rose:

"Even if it’s an Original, I don’t believe it came here just to destroy the Earth. If that were the case, it wouldn’t need to enter our orbit. It’s clear that it wants to come to Earth. If we can negotiate with it, we can be sure it won’t destroy the planet."

Although everyone wanted to shout in response, no one could forget that a monster who had paralyzed the young genius Orin with little effort was sitting among them. They remembered why they should maintain their respect. Their greatest fear was that Wise Aurelius would decide to fight. Aurelius stroked his beard and spoke:

"Let’s hope what it desires isn’t a living host to inhabit."