THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM
The Matriarch’s soul shrieked.
“You cannot reject symmetry!”
“We already did,” Damian said, voice steady. “We chose messy. We chose equal. We chose each other.”
The light from their rings intensified.
It wasn’t dominance.
It wasn’t submission.
It was partnership.
It was love that had survived mutations, temporal rifts, hybrid horrors, and every attempt to break them apart.
The Matriarch’s soul began to fracture.
Centuries of manipulation, control, and stolen immortality cracked under the weight of something she had never calculated: genuine, mutual, defiant love.