For a brief moment, as the energy spread through Cedric's meridians, Michael saw something else.
Tiny impressions.
Small, faint faces blooming beneath Cedric's skin.
Along his arm.
Across his chest.
Around his neck.
They were subtle. Almost translucent.
No one else reacted.
There was no sign that anyone else could see them.
Michael was not surprised.
Not everyone possessed his means.
Still, the sight alarmed him.
The faces did not move. They did not struggle.
They simply existed.
Then, slowly, they faded from obvious sight, sinking deeper into Cedric's body until they were barely perceptible, even to him.
Cedric laughed softly, rolling his shoulders as if testing his newfound strength.
The others were already imagining what it would mean if they could gather dozens of such orbs.
Michael said nothing.
He did not rebuke Cedric.
He did not warn the others.
Instead, his voice flowed silently through mana.
A private transmission.
It reached only one person.
Arianne.
