Jorghan looked like what he was—death made physical, violence given perfect form.
Settlement Observation Point
Thel'endra's eyes widened, her carefully maintained skepticism cracking for the first time.
"That's... that's not possible," she whispered.
"What did he…just do? What is that form?"
"He's been practicing," Sarhita said, unable to keep the pride from her voice despite the terror of the situation.
"Control," Katisana breathed.
"Complete control of the transformation. The Berserk Lords of legend could do this—shape themselves at will and maintain coherence even in a full rage state. We thought that knowledge was lost."
"It was," Sigora said quietly.
"Jorghan is rediscovering it. Learning what his ancestors knew."
Korreth stared at his nephew, seeing for the first time what had always been lurking beneath the cocky exterior.
"He's not just powerful. He's evolving. Growing into something..."
"Something the Empire should fear," Vel'sara finished.
