As time passed and Grixi waited for her brother's treatment to finish, her stoic expression began to change. Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze grew piercing and possessive, as if she could see beyond the walls.

Jealousy surged within her, reaching its peak, and with quick grace, she crawled through the same opening her brother had gone through.

The moans and licking sounds became audible, and upon hearing them, Grixi tried to suppress her inner turmoil, her eyes smoldering like pink fires.

Emerging from the small tunnel into the white room, she was met with the astonished gazes of Nexa and Nyxra. Nexa immediately halted her actions and straightened herself, wordlessly acknowledging Grixi's presence.

Nyxra, on the other hand, cried out, "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Grixi!"

Unaware of Grixi's stealthy arrival behind her, Nezla continued her delicate job of tongue brain massage as Grixi's eyes was turned into soulless, pink-black holes.

"What about Grixi, bitch?" Nezla paused, a sense of dread creeping into her voice. "Don't tell me she's behind me?" Slowly, she turned and met with the impending doom approaching her.

Realizing her blunder, Nezla quickly tried to recover. "Mist... Grixi, we were just finishing with your beloved brother," she stammered.

"I can see that you've enjoyed yourselves very much. We will discuss this 'incident' later," Grixi responded, her eyes shifting to her shivering brother.

A genuine worry was evident in her gaze; she wanted to ensure her brother received the best care.

With trembling hands, Mordax reached out and touched his sister's hand. "W-was this necessary for a neck bruise?" he asked, his body squeaky clean as if he had just emerged from a 'slime' bath.

As they descended towards the ground, Mordax took a closer look at how Vrosqui worker, effortlessly levitated the platform they were standing on. The worker's eyes glowed with a vibrant purple hue.

This was telekinesis. Every male Vrosqui had this power. Mordax made a mental note to himself.

Turning to Grixi, he said, "Sister, I remember having powers like this. Though about how to channel it, It's right at the tip of my tongue."

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with the tip of your tongue, silly. Don't worry, I have the perfect teacher in mind for this. You'll regain your old mastery quickly, I'm sure," Grixi reassured him.

"Our next stop is the Lifesowing spire. Maybe some of your early memories can return from this place."

The siblings made their way towards the spire. This time, the spire didn't reach the black clouds, but it was wider than the healer's spire, as if it needed more space for something to grow inside.

"Are we not going to use the flying platforms this time?" Mordax asked as they approached the huge gates on the ground floor.

"The upper floors are forbidden for those who aren't in their lifesowing cycle. So the ground floor will suffice for our trip now." Grixi explained.

She pressed her hand on the metallic floor, and a wormlike creature bit her finger, drawing blood. Then, the metallic doors slowly opened with a combination of creaks and squelching.

They passed through a second door, smaller than the first one, without any mechanism whatsoever. The doors closed behind them, enveloping the interior in pitch blackness.

The absence of light swallowed them whole, yet Grixi, being a Vrosqui being accustomed to such conditions, appeared undisturbed by the darkness, their world was dimly illuminated after all.

As Mordax's eyes adjusted to the darkness he could discern the presence of countless small tentacles writhing beneath their feet.

The ground seemed to be completely carpeted by these living appendages, pulsating with an otherworldly vitality. The sensation of squelching intensified with every step,

Mordax reached out to Grixi, his voice trembling with both trepidation and curiosity. "Sister, what is this place? It feels... alive." It seemed that the ground itself was teeming with some sort of living entity.

Mordax couldn't help but feel a mixture of awe and fear. It was as if they had stepped into the most sacred and dreadful place in their world.

In front of him lay hundreds of eggs, each one unique and otherworldly. They varied in size, shape, and color, some possessed intricate patterns, swirling and pulsating with vibrant hues that defied imagination. It was as if an artist had crafted them with delicate strokes of cosmic paint.

Then, he began to hear faint voices, like distant murmurs echoing in his head. At first, they were incomprehensible, mere mumblings in an alien tongue. However, as time passed, the voices grew clearer and more distinct, and a profound realization dawned upon him.

They were the murmurs of Vrosqui babies.

The small voices reverberated through his mind, each one unique, yet all filled with innocence and curiosity, sharing their thoughts and desires.

Mordax could sense their yearning for life, their hunger for experience and growth.

Curiosity and awe overwhelmed Mordax, eclipsing his initial trepidation. He knelt down, reaching out to one of the eggs with a trembling hand. As his fingertips brushed against the smooth surface, a surge of warmth coursed through him, connecting his consciousness to the unborn life within.

Each egg beheld a unique story, a potential destiny waiting to unfold.

Grixi watched her brother, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and concern.

As they moved deeper into the center, the eggs grew larger and more diverse, reflecting the immense variety within their society.

Mordax's attention was drawn to one of the larger ones. He reached out, his hand coming to rest upon its surface. And the mumbling baby's voice grew even clearer, declaring its purpose: 'Warrior.'

Lost memories flooded back about how the Vrosqui society worked. This egg, it contained a member of the warrior caste, skilled in combat and honor-bound to protect their people.

Leaving the warrior's egg behind, Mordax and Grixi pressed on. At the heart of the floor, an immense egg, as big as Mordax himself, stood. It dwarfed all the others, radiating an aura of power and significance.

Mordax placed his hand upon the colossal egg. It was as if a floodgate of memories burst open, one of the earliest memories he had cascaded through his mind.

He saw himself and Grixi, floating within a similar egg, their intertwined hands showing their bond.

They possessed knowledge beyond their years, comprehending the intricate workings of their society and their ultimate purpose: to stand among its elite soldiers, to ascend as its rulers, and to join the esteemed ranks of the Annalist caste.

Then Grixi put her hand on his shoulders, pulling Mordax out of his reverie.

"You were right, we are really twins, I now remember our purpose."

"Brother, we are bound by an unspoken connection. And now it is up to you to embrace it." Grixi said.

Mordax nodded. "But I don't want to go there now. I want to gather my thoughts and meditate first. I should go with a fresh mind to the Annalist Spire."

"However you want it to be, brother," Grixi said aloud, then added as a silent thought, 'Finally, you are becoming worthy to claim your right...' Her voice took on a maniacal tone as she continued, '...ME!'

As the siblings, hand in hand made their way towards outside once more, far away in another galaxy, a long time ago, a lone figure stood amidst the aftermath of a fierce battle.

The sun hung low in the horizon, casting an ethereal golden glow across the mysterious world nestled within a hidden valley. In this realm, fantastical creatures roamed and magic flowed through the air.

Ding!

[System Notification]

You have leveled up!

All stats increased by 1.

With a swift motion, he pulled his sword free from underneath the massive armored rhino-like beast he had just slain. As the sword was freed, a fresh wave of crimson spilled out, painting a macabre scene on the face of the mask that adorned his visage.

The mask, decorated with horns and bearing a demonic appearance, seemed to mirror the darkness that resided within the depths of the figure's soul.

As twilight painted the sky, the man set about cooking the spoils of his hunt. Flames danced from his outstretched hand, providing the necessary heat to cook the beast's flesh.

With his other hand, he raised a metallic bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the liquid within. Scratched on the bottom of the bottle were numbers.

The man's expression was somber, his thoughts consumed by a deeper purpose. The mask, resting atop his head, revealed his youthful features - a young man barely in his twenties, with jet-black hair that framed his face.

The mask's horns seemed to merge seamlessly with his own features, as if they were extensions of his identity.

Suddenly, a portal materialized beside him, distorting the air with a chilling breeze that sent shivers down the spines of anyone, but not the masked man. The portal was no bigger then a door the size of a large man can pass through, however it casted a shadow over the entire valley.

From its depths emerged a truly demonic being. Crimson-skinned and adorned with horns, the creature possessed diminutive wings resembling those of an imp.

The man, without sparing a glance, swiftly donned his mask once more, obscuring his face from view.

The creature's eyes narrowed, observing the man's lack of reaction. Its voice dripping with disdain. "You have been summoned..." it paused, a wicked smile curling upon its lips, "...dog."

Internally, the man seethed, his fists clenched tightly. 'One day...' he whispered to himself, his voice laden with determination.

Though his exterior remained calm and composed, the creature could sensed the subtle shift in the man's demeanor. It smiled slyly, relishing in the forthcoming confrontation.

"You are coming with me immediately," the creature said, its voice laced with authority. "His Highness does not appreciate being kept waiting."

A glint flickered in the man's eyes as he met the creature's gaze head-on. "Make me," he said, unfurling his aura and releasing a wave of intense killing intent.

The creature, taken aback by the man's unyielding resolve, found itself powerless to compel obedience.

In silence, the man stood up, his shoulders squared, back straightened, and his gaze fixed ahead, he strode purposefully towards the portal with unwavering steps. As he passed by the humanoid creature, the similarities between the horned mask he wore and the creature's own face became evident.

The creature's eyes gleamed as it clenched its fists, nails digging into its palms. With each step the man took, a bitter taste of envy lingered on its tongue, fueling the flames inside. As it watched the man's retreating back, a single thought echoed in its mind: 'You will never become one of us.'

A portal crackled to life within a grand throne room. It's edges emanating an oppressive energy.

From the portal emerged a masked man, his lithe form exuding an air of mystery. Following closely behind him came a similarly statured, red, imp-winged demonic creature.

Together, they made their way towards a towering throne, positioned higher than the eye could easily behold.

Perched upon the throne, partially obscured by the blinding sunlight that streamed in from behind, sat a creature. The mere sight of its horns and furled wings instilled a unease in those who stood before it, as if a chilling presence had settled upon their very spirits."

Not only its form cast a palpable weight upon all, also the intensity of the light forced those in the presence of the throne to bow their heads in submission, their gazes unable to meet the creature's piercing eyes.

The imp-winged creature knelt on one knee before the throne. The masked man, however, undeterred by the sun's glare, stood tall, his gaze locked onto the creature's face.

Observing this defiance, the imp-winged creature spoke, its voice filled with caution. "Your Highness, allow me."

The creature on the throne raised its hand. It turned its face slightly to the side, and nodded.

A presence emerged from the shadows, swift as the wind, and struck with precision. The masked man's Achilles tendons were slashed, causing him to crumple to the ground, yet not a single grunt escaped his lips.

Finally, the creature on the throne opened its mouth to speak, and the very air trembled as walls quivered in response.

After some time the creature concluded its speech, its voice filled with a chilling finality. "Do you understand your new purpose now?"

The masked man, nodded in acknowledgment.

"I expect nothing less than excellence from you. You are dismissed."

Then the masked man rose to his feet, as if his Achilles tendons had never been sliced. He made his way outside as the sole individual without any wings in this throne room full of red creatures that resembled a mix of demon and dragon.