There was something about that word that wasn't just about the sound.
"Progenitor."
It carried more than just meaning—it carried… weight. A concept too ancient to be explained simply, yet direct enough to be understood by those who knew what to look for. And, at that moment, even without being spoken aloud, it imposed itself on the environment as a truth that needed no external validation.
Progenitors weren't just creators.
They were origin.
Not in a symbolic sense, not as figures who inspired or led… but as absolute starting points. Beings who not only belonged to a race, but who had the power to initiate a new one. To establish a lineage where there was nothing before, or to completely rewrite an existing one, altering its base, its structure, its continuity.
They didn't just mold flesh.
They rewrote existence.
