The nine creatures floating before Achilles represented not just wonders, but the systematic drainage of his essential vitality!
Each one had required approximately ten percent of his imperial blood, and continued synthesis would push him toward thresholds that even he may not be able to recover!
He had…to cool down. To recover. To revenerate!
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to step back from the edge of creative obsession that could have elevated triumph into catastrophe.
Around him, the Sea of Thalassara pulsed with currents that carried his genetic information across impossible distances, while nine moon-sized predators waited for commands.
The potential remained unlimited. But wisdom demanded recognizing when unlimited potential required careful management rather than enthusiastic exploitation.
For now, nine weapons of destruction would suffice. The enemies gathering in distant corners of the Star Seas would soon learn some very, very heavy lessons!
