Quinn looked at Drakion, whose body was cradled in flames. The others were confused about where the flame had come from, but Kaidros and Quinn watched in stunned silence. As for Blaze—when Drakion’s body released that flame, he heard a Draconic roar. Instinctively, he sat cross-legged as a flame burst forth from him. Blaze found himself sinking into deep comprehension. This shocked Quinn, for he could see that Drakion’s comprehension of the Flame Law was influencing Blaze. He didn’t know what Blaze would gain from it, but he knew—whatever it was—it would be enormous. In the outside world, confusion reigned as dark clouds appeared, covering the entirety of the Origin Continent. This wasn’t the first time. It was the second. A golden eye emerged, scanning the hook and crane of Originat—matter, creatures, everything. Yet it couldn’t find what it was looking for. It peered deep into the Bestial Forest, into hidden ruins... but missed a golden-black palace standing alone in a fold of space. It sensed a presence. A presence not of this world. It felt as though another realm was being born. The aura it radiated was ancient and primitive—the essence of Law itself. A Law only the Heavenly Dao should ever comprehend. That made it furious. Though it couldn’t locate the one responsible, it knew—they were here. Somewhere in this world. Quinn looked up, feeling the second arrival of the Origin Heavenly Dao. It had come before—when Drakion first comprehended the Thunder Law. He hadn’t thought much of it then. But now? Seeing its return, he understood. This wasn’t ordinary. Drakion’s comprehension of Law had shaken the Heavenly Dao itself. Drakion opened his eyes. Flames danced within them—but they were serene, calm, peaceful. [Host has comprehended the Fire Law] Drakion raised his right hand, gazing at the bundle of red fire that flickered in his palm. In his left hand was a bolt of golden lightning—thunderous and unseen, yet undeniably felt. "What cute little children," Drakion whispered, surprised to find he could sense life within them. He didn’t know why, but he felt an overwhelming sense of love and kinship with the two elements. The bundle of red flame moved first, vanishing—only to reappear atop Drakion’s small head, bouncing and twirling with joy. The golden lightning crackled in protest, not wanting to be left behind. It bolted, appearing beside the red flame. Both flame and lightning looked as though they were about to clash—but Drakion quickly calmed them. "You guys should go back." The flame danced. The lightning crackled. Then, they both vanished. Inside Drakion’s Origin Nexus, the flame and lightning floated in silence. They had returned home, and he could feel them—now asleep. Drakion smiled. Even he was surprised by all this. Yet for some reason, he felt no caution or fear. He knew—they were a part of him. He turned his gaze to the flame world around him, where fire burned endlessly across every plane of sight. And yet, he felt comforted—at peace. The flames pulsed with joy. He reached out, touched the fire, and smiled. In the next moment, he vanished. Drakion found himself in water. When he saw this, he was shocked. He tried his best to swim upward, and through the shimmering surface, he could see the sun in the sky. He quickly swam toward it. But when he broke the surface, when his head pierced the veil between below and above— Darkness so deep, so absolute, that chills raced down his spine. His instincts seized control, dragging his body back into the water’s embrace. Drakion looked around at the water that surrounded him. No... from what he saw, this wasn’t mere water. This was a world—a realm sculpted entirely from water itself. And that revelation stunned him. Water... was a world of its own. Drakion thought of the Fire World. Then he sat cross-legged, unmoving—his body still, his thoughts anchored. No change in temperature. And yet—something within him shifted. But like a tide pulled by a moon he could not see—subtle, irresistible, ancient. Not like lightning, which strikes. Not like fire, which consumes. Not like thunder, which declares. Eternal. Unyielding. Without form, yet never formless. Where fire transformed, water remembered. Every drop that fell—and rose again— Water did not break things to change them. It wore them down with patience deeper than stone could endure. And in that flow... was something sacred. That no matter how hard, how high, how vast— All things would be shaped, softened, and carried. Not through strength. But through persistence. Clear. Reflective. Infinite. In its silence, water spoke— But in the memory of everything it had ever touched. Mountains. Skies. Ash. Bone. Blood. Birth. It did not discriminate. Drakion closed his eyes. He felt his Originat hum with a new rhythm. Just a soft, ceaseless movement... Like a heartbeat in the ocean’s depths. Water was not the opposite of flame. To both rise and ruin. The one that saw kingdoms fall beneath waves— And gently washed the bones afterward. It did not destroy to rule. It didn’t need to strike. It didn’t need to announce. And in its stillness... It reshaped the world. Until even mountains wept into its basin. Drakion exhaled slowly. And beneath that stillness... depth. Depth that could drown empires. Depth that could cradle life. Depth that never ended. Water does not fight. And in its acceptance— But within him, the ocean stirred. Vast. Endless. Alive. And with it, the Law of Water... A/N: Well, if I’ve successfully confused you, send your support, power stones, and gifts. Also, the behavior of the Flame and Thunder—if you can draw the correlation to what they resemble (I’ve mentioned the creatures they behave like in the novel)—the reward awaits. Perhaps... the right to name a Progenitor Hair. It’s open to everyone.