The heat moved.
From his chest to his stomach.
From his shoulders into his arms.
It didn't leave—but it flowed. Rounded. Bent to a curve instead of bursting against a wall.
Damien's body trembled, still overwhelmed—but for the first time, he wasn't losing control.
He was redirecting it.
And there—at the base of his sternum—something began to form.
Not hard. Not fixed.
But dense.
Like a storm cloud collapsing in on itself. Mana pooling, thickening. A centerpoint. A nest.
'What is that…?' he thought, sweat rolling down his brow.
And deep within him, in the soft, molten dark, he felt it.
The stir of something taking shape.
Not quite a core.
But a place.
A pocket of gravity where energy could settle.
Could return to.
He sucked in another breath.
Focused on the creature.
It had stilled again—watching him now.
Not just tolerating his presence.
Witnessing him.
Its long limbs lifted again—subtle motion. Palms outward. Shoulder dipped.
Another step in the pattern.
