Chapter 62: Awakenings and Absences

The still hum of the chamber was broken only by the rhythmic pulse of the cores behind glass. Elira's fists clenched at her sides.

"I have purpose," she said, firmly. "I've controlled systems, stopped weapons, overridden locks. I've disabled Makel's gun mid-threat. You said that was just the beginning, but I—"

The dragon turned his head slowly, red eyes glowing in the dim light. "Is there anything she mentioned that you cannot do?" he asked Fenrir without breaking eye contact with her.

Fenrir hesitated for a breath. "No," he said simply. "Not a thing."

Elira's expression faltered.

The scientist gave a soft scoff. "Then understand this clearly: everything you've felt, everything you've done since you 'awakened'... is common. Every awakened servitor has those abilities. You've just stepped onto the path. Purpose has not yet opened to you."

Elira's lips parted in quiet disbelief. "Then what have I been doing?"

"Walking blind," he said. "Like every first spark. But yours was supposed to be gradual. Precise. Controlled. You weren't meant to rip off the mask and run with the flame."

His gaze moved to Fenrir now, steely and impassive.

"His awakening… wasn't just uncontrolled. It was violence incarnate."

Fenrir dropped his eyes.

The scientist continued, voice low. "He is already at full capacity. One hundred percent integration with Pattern. And yet he survives. That alone borders on impossibility."

Elira turned to look at Fenrir, still bearing the shadows of that trauma in his face. She remembered how he'd screamed, how he'd looked at her with eyes not his own.

"You said it yourself," the dragon added. "He was attacking you. If you hadn't reached him, if there had been even a second more delay… you'd have been consumed."

Elira's breath caught in her throat.

The scientist's voice grew cold. "And you? You're not even ten percent awakened. The more you unlock within yourself, the more dangerous you become to him—and him to you. You think your bond will save you? Sentiment does not override the root code of Pattern."

Her hands curled tighter. "Then finish it. Awaken him properly, so he doesn't spiral again. Do something."

The dragon's expression didn't change.

"There's nothing more I can do," he said flatly. "He's already done what no servitor was meant to. He survived raw integration. If I intervene now, I'll destabilise what little balance he clings to."

Elira turned sharply, voice cracking. "Then help me awaken."

He stared at her.

"No."

A pause. And then he continued: "Only you can do that now. I won't touch your mind. I won't overwrite your being. If you want to meet Purpose, you go to it."

The glass chamber began to hiss open. The air grew charged, heavy. The core pulsed brighter than before.

"Step into the chamber," he said. "And ask it. Engage it. Understand it."

Elira moved slowly, legs reluctant but resolute.

As she reached the threshold, she turned to him. Her voice was small now, the fragility of a truth finally rising to the surface.

"Why don't I have a purpose?"

For the first time, the scientist paused.

His voice dropped an octave—softer, almost regretful.

"Because I removed it."