POV: Sera
"You see us."
The largest creature bows so deeply its scaled head touches the ground, and I'm trembling—not from fear, but from the power coursing through my veins like liquid gold.
The other two follow, bending their massive frames in a gesture of reverence. I'm still glowing, still burning with energy I don't understand, and for the first time, I realize: they're not attacking me. They're honoring me.
"Come," the largest one says, extending a clawed limb toward the deeper Waste. "There is much you must see."
I follow because staying means death. Moving forward means at least the possibility of answers.
The Crimson Waste transforms as we walk deeper.
At first, I thought it was all destruction—twisted plants, alien rock formations, a landscape carved by violence. But now, as the creatures lead me through paths only they know, I see the truth: it's being cultivated.
The crystalline formations aren't random. They're arranged, shaped, some of them carved with deliberate patterns. And the bioluminescent plants—they're being tended. I see evidence of care, of intention. An older mutant shows a younger one how to nurture a glowing vine. A group works together to build shelter from the red stone.
They have families.
My breath catches when I see a small creature—barely five feet tall—playing with a larger one, both of them laughing in grinding, clicking sounds. A child. The mutant child is showing the adult something, and the adult's expression is pure affection.
Everything I was taught is a lie.
"You're shocked," one of my escorts says—not unkindly.
"You have..." I struggle for words. "You're not monsters. You're people."
"We are," the largest one agrees. "We were people on our world, before it died. We will be people on this one. The humans in their settlements tell different stories, but stories are just fear wearing clothes."
We walk for hours. The landscape shifts—from twisted crystal to cultivated fields to what looks like buildings. Mutants everywhere stop to stare at me. Some bow. Others just watch with an intensity that should terrify me but doesn't.
Because I can see them. And they know.
"What is she?" whispers a smaller mutant.
"Someone the King has been waiting for," another responds, and something in those words makes my pulse quicken.
The Obsidian Citadel appears slowly at first—just a shadow against the darkening sky. Then the details emerge. Black stone towers reaching impossibly high. Bridges made of pure light connecting different structures. Architecture that defies physics and logic and sanity.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
And it terrifies me.
"Why does everyone speak of the King like he's..." I pause, searching for the word. "Like he's important to me."
The largest mutant doesn't answer directly. "There are beings in this world who are meant to find each other, Sera Ashford. Across time. Across species. Across reason itself. The King has ruled for two hundred years, alone. And today, for the first time, something ancient in this Citadel awakened."
"What?" I ask, though part of me already knows.
"You," the mutant says simply. "You awakened."
We approach the massive gates of the Citadel, and they swing open without anyone touching them—responding to the presence of my escorts, or maybe to me. The interior is vast, filled with chambers that stretch in directions my eyes can't quite follow. Thousands of mutants move through corridors with purpose. And every single one stops to watch as we pass.
The whispers intensify: "The Seer." "She can perceive." "The King summoned her."
That last phrase repeats over and over, and each time it does, I feel something tighten in my chest. A pull. A connection to something vast and ancient that's been waiting.
We climb stone staircases that seem to spiral forever, higher and higher, approaching clouds. My heart pounds harder with each step. Other mutants give us wide berth, their eyes following me with something like awe.
Finally, we stop before doors that steal my breath.
They're massive—tall enough for giants, carved from obsidian, ornate with symbols that glow with bioluminescent light. The throne room doors. Behind them, something waits. Something powerful. Something that's been sensing me since the moment I awakened in the Crimson Waste.
Something that wants me.
"The King will see you now," the largest mutant says. There's something almost protective in his tone. "When you meet him, remember: even monsters deserve to be seen as more than their teeth."
The doors begin to open.
My golden light flares brighter in response, like recognition. Like coming home.
And I realize, with sudden, shocking clarity: I'm about to meet the being who's been pulling at my consciousness since I awakened.
The one I was always meant to find.