Cain couldn't argue that. The fire. The unnatural resilience. The dreams he never understood. The sense that something watched him not to harm him but to direct him.
Yet anger cut through him anyway.
"So what now?" Cain demanded. "You show up, drop a revelation, and expect me to kneel? To thank you?"
"I expect nothing," the figure said quietly. "I reveal what the spiral chose to show you. The rest depends on whether you accept your lineage."
Cain frowned. "Lineage?"
The figure lifted a hand. A simple gesture. Not commanding—inviting.
The threads overhead parted once more, revealing a hidden path Cain hadn't noticed before. It wasn't a thread of memory like the others. It didn't show visions, scenes, or fragments.
It showed a fire burning in the distance, steady and patient.
"Walk it," the figure said. "And you will understand why your bloodline was sought. And why your brother—"
Cain stiffened. "Brother?"
"—why he fell."
