{Cinder | Near 150,000,000 Years Ago}

Only Quet came.

“You misunderstand me, Surra.” Quet patronized to his Project from his full height of seventy-five feet. He liked to get tall when he talked down to her. “Your purpose is noble and lauded.”

A breeze of orange blossoms filled Surra’s hair and feathers. Outside. The world deprived to her for an eon. An eon working to form beautiful beings such as the several million behind her. No longer angry, only cold, Surra said, “You abused me. Took them from me. I never held… Not a single one. Can you not see the wrong you committed against me? Leave me in peace.”

Quet reached out, beseeching her, “Girl, we have yet to finish. You are the only beacon of hope for Tritan civilization. Primary Rem threatened my life if I returned without you.”

Of course he did. She was their simple solution.

Surra felt the tension of those holding the line behind her with a beastly hunger and a mind half as complicated. This conversation already went on too long. “Father, this is between you and me. Leave the Tritans on their borrowed continent in Enki.”

As if this were a positive, Quet announced, “We plan to claim Ishkur soon, if we ever find it. You can continue your work there. Now. Come home.”

Ishkur?

When her nameless companion touched her arm, Surra regained focus. She said, “No.”

“Why? At home, you represent the salvation of our species. Here… What are you to these animals?”

Animals. He called them… animals.

Probabilities, the instances, they flashed through her mind. Filtered her vision until Surra saw only through the potential worlds and instances they promised. And in this instance, they always promised the same outcome.

Wrath, hot and consuming, burned through Surra. She let Quet see it in her eyes, and in a voice of six pitches, she declared, “I am Imminent.”

Her nameless companion—her General—signaled the troops, and they swarmed. At first, Quet looked amused, but as the numbers continued to roll over the hill’s crest, his eyes widened and he turned for the conduit. Surra flew over to distract him and almost laughed.

Busy fidgeting with his suit, Quet failed to compress so he could fit inside the conduit. All conduit maximum height capacity was only sixty-five feet. Again. And Again. In his panic, he turned horrified voids to Surra and screamed.

Now she laughed.

Even as the horde swarmed his feet and sunk their teeth to devour his Gargantuan form, Surra cackled. Laughed for all the mega-years of her life spent in stirrups, pregnant. Laughed for all the times she begged to have a short decade to herself and explore the worlds she helped create. All the times he said “no.”

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Quet was long dead when the tears stopped pouring. Now was the time to act. Before the others claimed it, Surra led her nameless companion to Quet’s nacre, deep inside his massive carcass.

Surra gestured at her mouth. “This. Eat it.”

The language-less man swallowed her father’s nacre. He no longer needed her aid to understand the universe.

Elden, so named, spoke his first words. “Surra is Imminent.”

{Enki | Now}

“Sissy!”

Pax had played in Silence’s arms until Celindria entered Remorse’s sanctum. Now he wriggled for release, and she let him go to her. The boy jumped into the “smiling” woman’s outstretched arms. “Smiling” because none of Celindria’s expressions were natural to her face.

“You did excellent, little brother.”

The complicated web of relations in the room was enough to boggle Silence’s mind. Lucas referred to it as a “catastrophic genetic tangle.” That worked. He watched, standing at attention, beside Smith at the conduit. They were here for the big ceremony.

Silence wanted to scream.

Remorse approached his grandson with an outstretched hand, and the boy shrunk away to hide against Celindria’s dress. Silence noted his good instincts, and observed the rigid movement of Celindria’s face as she soothed, “Shh. It’s fine. No hand will lie upon you that is against your consent.”

A lost look crossed Remorse’s face—genuine—but vanished in an instant. “Are we prepared to witness?”

Pax tugged on the First Progeny’s sleeve. “Where’s Uncle Nock?”

To Silence’s surprise, Celindria’s face fell. That was the first authentic emotion from her since Silence arrived. Celindria answered, “He’s not coming, my dear. I’m sorry. I know how much you’ll miss him.” At the last, she glared at Remorse.

In a single day, Imminent suffered two blows. Razor’s defeat and Xelan’s resurrection. The latter perplexed the group. In all Probabilities before this one, Nox was inside the casket under the prison. And in all those Probabilities, Silence would witness the rise of Imminent’s greatest soldier. Her grandson, now dead at the hands of a twenty-year-old Earth girl. Until now.

Lucas spared Silence a glance, and Smith winked at her.

The Earth girl that represented hope for them all.

In the wake of Razor’s demise, Silence noted Remorse’s extreme apathy to the mixup. After reading how terribly he’d treated Nox, Silence wasn’t surprised when the Tritan shrugged off Celindria’s scorn. “I wasn’t aware Nox kept Xelan’s birth nacre. I’m not to blame for this.”

Pax looked away from him and beseeched Celindria with those beautiful eyes. “Who will be here with you, sissy? Daddy?”

Celindria brushed a tendril of his hair behind his ear. “That’s entirely up to you. If you choose me, I’ll shape you into Imminent’s finest leader. If you choose your father, I’ll never awaken you to the Probability Matrix. Say the word, and Auntie T.a.o. will return you to your parents.”

Silence wanted little in this world. Ishkur, Kyle, and for Pax to say “no.”

In a guise of agency, Celindria set him down to make his choice. The toddler glanced at every face in the room before staring up at Silence for a long moment. Could he sense her reticence for him? She hoped so—

Pax turned and crossed the columned temple to the cascade of black flames. Remorse smiled like a proud grandpa that stole the privilege from Silence’s unconscious daughter. Celindria’s eyes widened with what Silence imagined was delight, but nothing was in them. Lucas and Smith both watched on with a professional detachment that looked forced.

Once more, Silence wanted to scream.

But doing so endangered Ishkur. Endangered the Vast Collective.

Duty-bound, Silence watched on in horror as Pax reached out and touched Cascading Light.

Celindria muttered, “As always.”

Remorse’s voice was thick with pride. “He is Imminent.”

For Pax, for Xelan, and for Savis—Gripping Pax’s chain, Silence vowed to make this right.

Even if it killed her.