No one was assigned a path arbitrarily. The essence-cycle evaluated them relentlessly: temperament, obsession, fear, desire, the shape of their ambition when stripped bare. Those who sought control gravitated toward dominion. Those who sought understanding drifted toward abstraction. Those who burned to destroy found their resonance answered eagerly.
Lamair, who had resisted, was seized by a Path that roared like a dying star collapsing inward. His scream twisted into laughter as power flooded him, reshaping him from the inside out.
Ethan watched it all with impassive eyes.
This was not kindness.
This was not cruelty.
This was architecture.
"Fourth," Ethan intoned, and now his voice carried weight beyond sound, "the Oath."
The Paths halted.
Cocoons tightened, light compressing until it was almost blinding. Within each, a single concept surfaced, an unspoken vow, dredged from the deepest layer of will.
They did not swear to Ethan.
