Luckily for her, Jethro barely even noticed the awkwardness caused by his question, and carried on with his mindless talking.

"Problem is, Scorch is still in the Hatchling Phase. He can't start cultivating until he gets to Juvenile, you know? Like most mechbeasts." Jethro sighed. "I have to find a way to speed the process up."

But he never elaborated on how.

Padva watched him tuck the module away. Her gaze lingered on Scorch, who had retracted slightly into Jethro's jacket but was still watching her with those intelligent, unnervingly calm eyes. Her usual bluntness resurfaced, cutting through the awkwardness of the gift.

"Jethro," she said, her voice low and serious, her silver eyes locking onto his with unusual intensity. "If you could tell me the truth this time, would you mind? I am curious to know what happened to him. So what really was it?"

She nodded towards Scorch. "He's not just bigger and darker. He seems more powerful, I can tell. Stronger in a way. And his form resembles that of a Charcoal Gator, though his head is smaller than one. I wanted to ignore it but it doesn't make any sense. Especially because Grey Ranks don't evolve… yet your Red Lizard… he feels like something else entirely. What did you do?"

Jethro gazed at her for a while, or rather, held her own gaze, knowing that looking away will make it seem like he was hiding something. "How come you already believe that I did something?"

Padva thinned her lips. "Well… it couldn't have just happened on its own."

"Mechbeasts are creatures of magic, of course stuff like this could happen on its own."

Padva thought for a while, then met his eyes once again. "But magic follows a system. A system of rules. If the system says Grey Ranks can't evolve then it doesn't really make much sense for one to."

Jethro's eyes narrowed, slightly getting frustrated by her forward, lawyer-like way of saying things. She was way too smart for him to wiggle through. "But that's why systems are updated aren't they?"

Hence he caught himself slipping slightly into the truth trap.

Padva lifted her chin. "You think there's a change in the universally understood logic that explains magic in our world?" She thought for a while and shrugged. "You could be right, but opposed to this just being something that you did, it's difficult not to just believe that you did it."

She had said it in a matter-of-fact way, almost even teasing him with a smile as she returned to the screenpages of her glyph.

Jethro leaned in, smiling too, a knowing smile. "But what could I ever do if the laws of magic didn't allow it?"

That was when Padva paused.

It made sense. What he just said. If the laws of magic said that Grey Ranks could not evolve, then certainly, nothing he would be doing would allow for that. But was that what was happening? Was Jethro's mechbeast evolving or had he just found a way to make it stronger?

Jethro watched . He saw the genuine curiosity on her face, it was almost even amusing to watch; Padva's analytical mind trying to solve the puzzle. He could tell that she was rethinking her entire calculations from earlier all down to the bone, uncertain of all of it.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to match hers, a spark of his old defiance mingling with a newfound calculation. "You know what, Padva?" he said playfully, "let's make a deal."

Padva's brows lifted. "A deal?"

"Yeah," he lifted his shoulders. "A deal. You want to know why Scorch went all reverse Micheal Jackson—?"

"Who's Micheal Jackson?"

"I'll tell you why. I'll tell you what happened… What I know," Jethro said quietly.

At the back of his mind, he was brainstorming if this was actually a good idea. Padva had been the only one who left the Darc Throne Depths with him. If there was anyone who he should tell about the crimson screen and his knowledge, it should be her.

Regardless, he couldn't risk spewing out what he hadn't even fully comprehended. He was not yet sure of the extent and limitations of this library in his mind. And he was still ignoring the big question of where it came from—

Yet, there was something he wanted from her in this grand exchange.

"But only if you tell me something first." He paused, letting the option simmer in her mind. When her reaction showed that she was waiting for the next part, he continued, "What Bloodline did Shadow awaken?"

Padva went utterly still.

The faint blush vanished, replaced by a sudden pallor. Her grey eyes widened, not with astonishment this time, but with genuine shock, bordering on alarm. Her hand instinctively dropped to rest on Shadow's head. "Wha— what are you talking about?

Jethro smirked. "What? You didn't think you could hide it forever, did you?" He played her own words back on her.

"You…" she breathed, her eyes shivering around Jethro's face. "You knew?"

Jethro just nodded slowly, then sat back with a knowing smile on his face. "I put two and two together. Your Panther has the ability to teleport through short distances using voidspace. I know that about Doomsday Panthers… Deathclaws." He hesitated.

"Anyway. Back in the Rift, when Shadow teleported you out of our location, you said he kept teleporting you, blinking out of separate zones to escape Decterion who kept following. With the amount of aether available in Darcworld, I'm not surprised at all that Shadow could do that. But then you said he somehow managed to teleport you out of the Rift."

Jethro leaned forward now. "That should be impossible," he said.

Padva stared at him, the truth almost evident in her eyes.

"I'm sure you told the Beastcorp authorities that you don't know how, you just found yourself outside, but I think that something happened to Shadow when Decterion was about to catch you, to kill you. Maybe in the dying moment, when your mechbeast saw just how much danger you were in, it did it. It awakened a bloodline."

Jethro sat back and crossed his legs on the table. "A moment of great stress, forcing your bond to awaken the power of his ancestors to save you. A power that lets it teleport through the Dimensional Rift." He took out a nutrient bar and chewed the top. "Now that's an incredible power. I'm just curious about what bloodline it is."

That was a lie. He wasn't curious. He already knew what bloodline it was. He just wanted Padva to tell him, that way he had a reason to trust her so he could tell her a bit about the knowledge he had.

She looked away, down at Panther, and shook her head. "So you just pretend often but you're actually this smart?"

Jethro cocked his head. "I don't know if I should be offended by that, princess."

She tightened her lips. After a moment's hesitation, she turned to him and said, "The Omniborian Bloodline."

"Omniborian?" Jethro asked. "Like Omnibor, the King Phantom of Cats? Isn't that a legend?"

Padva raised a single brow. "Aren't you the smart one? Bloodlines are all legends."

Jethro pursed his lips, head bopping. "That they are."

Padva stared at him, a whirlwind of emotions flashing behind her usually impassive eyes – shock, fear, calculation, and a dawning realization that Jethro Merrick was far more observant, far more dangerous, than anyone gave him credit for.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken implications. Finally, she took a slow breath, her gaze dropping to the table surface.

"You can't…" she whispered, her voice tight, "you can't tell anyone."

Jethro watched her struggle. He saw the social awkwardness warring with the need to protect her secret, the same way he protected his. "Don't worry, princess," he sighed, lowering his legs. "I don't mean to boast but my secret is bigger than yours anyway. You're the Grey Rank when compared to me."

She looked at him, wondering whether the sarcasm and jokes would ever give out.

Jethro stood up.

Padva lifted her gaze. "What are you doing?"

He sunk his hands into the pockets of his jacket, while Scorch poked its head out of his shirt. "Reading glyphs is boring these days. It's like pouring water into an ocean. Nothing I don't know."

Padva squinted her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"How about," he suggested, a hint of his usual wryness returning, "we talk about it while we train? Professor Uriel expects results. I need to get Scorch to Juvenile, and Shadow…" he nodded towards the Deathclaw, "looks like he could use some practice channeling whatever ancient power lets him phase through the Dimensional Wall. Less talking, more doing? The training facilities are busy but I think we could find an empty one around this time."

Relief washed over Padva's features, subtle but real. Action was easier than exposition. Analysis easier than vulnerability. She nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement. "Okay. I could really use some training." She began gathering her things with swift efficiency, the glyph disc winking out as she stored it.

Jethro turned, heading out of the library.

"Hey, Jethro," Padva called after him.

He stopped.

"How did you even know that mechbeasts awaken their bloodline during extreme stress?" She stopped walking towards him, waiting for a response.

Jethro was still for a moment before turning, a smile on his face. "Because the same thing happened to mine."

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