The stark image of the ancient Canid sigil, blazing with focused psychic energy and the promise of a terrifying, primal dominion, lingered in Bolt's mind long after he'd pulled back from his empathic glimpse into Valerius's ritual.
"The quiet observation dome in the Seraphina Drift sanctuary felt suddenly too small, the vast starfields outside a fragile veil against the monumental ambitions now stirring in the galaxy."
"Dominion," Bolt rumbled, the word tasting foul even in his transformed voice. "Not stewardship, not connection. He wants to reshape the Canid spirit into a force of absolute control, aligned with that… that symbol."
Elara's opalescent eyes were dark with ancient anxieties.
"The sigil you describe… it resonates with the most perilous legends of the pre-Schism Canids. It harks back to a time when the Progenitors first experimented with uplifting chosen species, gifting them immense power to act as governors of nascent cosmic energies".
"For some, like the early Canid stewards, this power was intended for balance.
"But the sigil of Dominion… that was a corruption, a pathway that led to tyranny, to a belief in inherent superiority and the right to command the fundamental forces."
"It was a power the Progenitors themselves later sought to curtail, for it bred only discord."
Eva paced the dome, her human pragmatism struggling to encompass these cosmic-scale manipulations.
"So Valerius isn't just a religious fanatic looking for old glory. He's trying to unlock a specific, dangerous form of Progenitor-era power tied to his entire species?"
"Precisely, Captain," Elara affirmed. "And the Ahna'sara, Bolt? How did it react to this resonance of Dominion?"
Bolt focused inward, recalling the sensations.
"It felt… profoundly wrong. A perversion. The Ahna'sara sings of empathy, of understanding the other, of connection between equals".
This sigil… it was a song of the self magnified, of bending all other notes to its will. They are antithetical.
" This realization brought a grim clarity. Whatever Valerius's justifications, his path was not one the Seed of Hope could ever align with."
The strategic implications were dizzying. Warlord Krell sought to shatter or seize the Heart of Orion for brute power.
The void-corruption was an unthinking plague, consuming all light. And now Valerius was attempting to awaken an ancient, potentially mind-altering force within his own people, a force that could make the Canid Confederacy an even more formidable, and perhaps fanatically unified, power in the galaxy.
"If he succeeds," Eva said, voicing the fear that gripped them, "what would a Canid Confederacy reshaped by this 'Primal Mandate' of dominion even look like? Would they be worse than Krell?"
"Different," Elara mused. "Perhaps more insidious. Krell conquers bodies and resources".
"Valerius, it seems, seeks to conquer souls, to forge an ideologically pure and psychically empowered Canid empire. And the Heart of Orion, the silver thread, the Dreaming Tree… if he knows of them, he would undoubtedly see them as instruments to be mastered for this purpose, tools to amplify his Dominion."
The thought that the shielding Bolt had encountered on the silver thread might be Valerius's attempt to claim it exclusively sent a fresh chill through them.
The Outer Sanctuaries, Elara explained, were now stretched thin. Monitoring Krell, studying the void-corruption, and now this… Valerius's gambit was unfolding deep within Canid sovereign space, making direct Aethelgardian intervention almost impossible without triggering a wider conflict with the entire Confederacy, much of which was likely unaware of Valerius's true aims.
Bolt looked down at the Focusing Sphere in his hand. His training in Aethelgard had been about projecting harmony, about listening to the Seed's song.
But the universe kept throwing discord at him. First Krell, then the void, now this perversion of Canid potential.
The Ahna'sara within him felt less like a gentle light and more like a defiant ember, refusing to be extinguished by the rising shadows.
His purpose, he realized, was not just to heal or connect, but to stand against those who would twist power into tyranny, whether that tyranny was born of Felid ambition or misguided Canid zeal.
Suddenly, the Aethelgardian sensitive who had first reported Valerius's surge cried out, their moth-like wings fluttering in agitation.
"Elara! The energy readings from the Star-Seeker ritual… they've spiked! Massively! The Dominion Sigil… its resonance is stabilizing, locking into place across all their focal worlds!"
As the sensitive spoke, Bolt, still clutching the Focusing Sphere, felt a powerful, specific empathic wave crash against his senses.
It wasn't the cold probe of the Watcher, nor the devouring emptiness of the void, nor the focused malice of Krell.
This was different. It was a chorus of voices, Canid voices, filled with terror, confusion, and a desperate, almost unbearable plea for help. They were individuals, thousands of them, deep within the Canid Confederacy, caught within Valerius's psychic net, their own spirits recoiling from the imposition of the Dominion Sigil.
They were fighting it, resisting, and their collective fear and hope, somehow, had resonated with the pure frequency of the Ahna'sara across the light-years.
They were calling out, not to their leaders, not to their Star-Seeker masters, but to him. To the unexpected, unknown note of true Canid empathy that had briefly sung against the void.
Bolt looked at Elara, his blue eyes blazing with a new, terrible understanding. Valerius's gambit was succeeding, but it was also creating an internal schism, a silent rebellion of spirits who refused to be remade.
And the Ahna'sara, it seemed, had just found a new, desperate front in the echo of war.