The silence in the workshop was absolute. Jonah and Vanessa stood frozen, their breath catching in their throats as they stared at the floating, shimmering cocoon. The violent energy of the synthesis was gone, leaving behind a profound sense of peace that radiated from the perfectly smooth shell.

"Did it… work?" Vanessa asked, her voice barely a whisper, afraid to break the spell.

Jonah nodded, too exhausted to speak. He could feel it through his link – a new, impossibly complex life, sleeping peacefully within the light.

Before he could take another breath, a delicate sound, like ice cracking, echoed in the quiet room. A hairline fracture appeared on the cocoon's surface, glowing from within. Then another, and another, spreading across the shell in a perfect, intricate pattern.

It wasn't a violent hatching. It was a precise, controlled unveiling.

The shell split apart with a soft chime, its pieces dissolving into motes of light that faded into the air. A creature unfolded itself from the dissipating glow, its limbs stretching gracefully.

It was both beautiful and terrifying.

Its body was sleek and insectoid, covered in chitinous plates that seemed to shift and change color, blending with the shadows of the workshop one moment and the gleam of the metal workbench the next. Four gossamer wings, so thin they were nearly invisible, hummed silently, holding it aloft. Its six limbs ended not in claws, but in long, obsidian-sharp talons that looked like they could slice through steel.

But it was the eyes that held Jonah captive. Dozens of insect-like lenses on its sleek head seemed to look straight through him, carrying an intelligence none of his other Progeny had ever shown.

A familiar prompt bloomed in his mind, its message sending a jolt of pure triumph through his exhausted body.

`[Nexus Synthesis Complete. Progeny Created: Phantom Weaver (Grade 4)].`

`Skills: [Phase Strike], [True Invisibility], [Piercing Talon], [Illusionary Decoy].`

He had done it. He had created a Grade-4 Progeny. A creature born of theory, instinct, and a power he was only just beginning to understand.

The Phantom Weaver moved silently towards him, its intelligent eyes never leaving his. It felt… different. The connection was deeper, more complicated than with Rook or Nyx. He felt not just its loyalty, but a shared consciousness. It was a part of him in a way the others weren't.

Jonah reached out a trembling hand, and the creature gently touched its razor-sharp talon to his fingertip, a gesture of true respect.

Suddenly, the heavy workshop door buzzed, and Seraph's sharp voice cut through the intercom. "Jonah? The Headmaster's scrying orb just shattered. What in the world did you do?"

Before he could answer, there was a loud, insistent KNOCK at the door. It wasn't Seraph.

"Jonah, stay back," Seraph's voice commanded, a new urgency in her tone. "Vanessa, get ready. We have company."

Vanessa immediately moved to Jonah's side, her hands already glowing with protective magic. Jonah instinctively dismissed the Phantom Weaver back into his Beast Space, the creature vanishing without a sound. Hiding it felt like second nature, but a part of him was bursting with pride. He wanted to show the world what he had made.

The heavy door slowly opened. Seraph stood in the doorway, her body tense, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

Framed in the doorway behind her was a group of students unlike any Jonah had seen up close. There were about half a dozen of them, all third-years, and every single one of them wore a polished Bronze Badge on their uniform – the mark of an Ascended Elite. These were the true powers of the student body, the future leaders of the nation.

Their leader was a tall, calm-looking Mage with silver hair and an aura of immense power that felt as heavy as a physical weight. Standing beside him was a burly warrior with a greatsword strapped to his back that seemed impossibly large, and a sharp-eyed girl with the mark of a Tamer, though she had no beast in sight.

The silver-haired Mage stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the still-crackling runic arrays on the workbench, the faint smell of ozone, and finally, settling on Jonah. His gaze was not hostile, but it was intensely curious, like a master craftsman inspecting a strange new device.

"Sergeant Seraph," the Mage said, his voice smooth and calm. "My apologies for the intrusion. We felt a… rather significant surge of mana. It was powerful enough to disrupt the entire Academy's magical field. We came to investigate."

Seraph didn't relax. "This is a restricted research area, Thanos."

The Mage, Thanos, offered a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. We mean no disrespect. But a magical event of that magnitude is of interest to all high-ranking students. The balance of the Academy is a delicate thing."

His eyes drifted from Seraph to Jonah, taking in the first-year uniform and the Black Badge – an impossible combination. Then he looked at Vanessa, a top-ranked Mage in her own right, standing protectively beside the boy from Cinderfall.

The pieces clicked into place behind his intelligent eyes. The rumors of a secret project, the Headmaster's personal interest, the unprecedented rank… it all made a terrible sort of sense now.

Thanos's gaze settled fully on Jonah. He looked from Jonah's exhausted face back to the empty space where the cocoon had been, as if he could still see the ghost of its power.

"I see," he said, his voice soft but carrying across the workshop. "The rumors about the Headmaster's 'special project' were true."

He looked Jonah up and down, a new expression on his face – a mixture of respect and a hint of challenge.

"It seems we have a new player in the game."

The other senior students behind him exchanged glances. Their initial curiosity had vanished, replaced by a range of more complex emotions. The powerful Warrior's eyes narrowed in assessment. The Tamer looked at Jonah with a calculated stare, as if trying to weigh his value. They all understood. This boy, this first-year, had just done something that had shaken the foundations of the Academy.