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The truth remains.

There will be no mate.

No hearth.

No future carved from anything but ruin.

No son to inherit this curse.

No legacy beyond the ending I will force into existence.

The line ends with me.

It must.

The hunger surges again—but this time, it changes.

Not rage.

Not mindless need.

Something sharper.

Focused.

Aware.

I freeze.

The wind shifts.

A scent rides it—subtle, distant, carried from the direction of the portal hidden deep within the forests of Earth.

The one that opens in that strange mortal place.

New Jersey.

I have watched it countless times.

Observed from shadow.

Detached.

Unmoved.

Until now.

This is different.

Soft.

Alive.

But layered with something older.

Something… familiar.

Not prey.