The oldest hunters in the universe do not follow bait.
They follow need.
The Predator follows nourishment like instinct follows blood.
And the heir has just taught the world how to bleed without dying.
⸻
The nourishment lattice hums across continents like a living vein.
Not loud.
Not radiant.
Precise.
It feels like standing inside the quiet certainty of sunrise.
Inside my body, the strain shifts from rupture to containment. The heir’s presence locks into a frightening new configuration—no longer just sustaining life, but shaping the path life takes outward.
Jason stares at the arrays in stunned terror.
“They’re not just feeding the world anymore,” he whispers. “They’re architecting the flow.”
Zane tightens his hold on me.
“And the Predator is following it like a scent trail.”
