The domain core in front of Vritra hummed with the deep and steady energy of the 4th Order, its presence substantial and clean, the foundation of everything the Graveyard was and would be.
He had everything he needed.
The gene potions from the Wooden Poisoned Realm were in his inventory, four tiers worth, waiting for the 4th Origin to make them absorbable.
The Nest creature was generating, seven days to completion, aligned with the evolution's expected duration.
He thought about the last fourteen days and the fourteen before those and everything that had accumulated across all of them, the gene material and the domain evolutions and the people who had grown stronger in his absence and the conversations that had settled things that had been unsettled.
He thought about the lost elven kingdom and the less than two weeks and everything that needed to be ready before it opened.
