The Harvesters came in waves—twisted mockeries of fallen Gardeners, their bodies stitched together from golden filaments and Spiral corruption. Jax moved through the chaos like a storm, his marked hand blazing as he tore through the abominations. Each one that fell dissolved into black ichor, screaming with voices that weren't entirely their own.
The Architect fought at his side, her form flickering between solid and luminous as she wielded memories like weapons—dead worlds' final moments reshaped into searing projectiles. The Warden carved a path ahead, her blade leaving afterimages of slaughtered civilizations in its wake.
They were winning.
That was the problem.
*"It's too easy,"* Jax shouted over the din of battle.
The Architect's golden eyes met his, grim understanding flashing between them. The Spiral wasn't throwing everything at them because it didn't *need* to.
It was *herding* them.
The realization came too late.
The ground beneath them *ruptured*—not with roots or corruption, but with something far worse.
**The First Harvester.**
It unfolded from the earth like a nightmare given form, its body a grotesque fusion of all the fragments that had ever fallen. The Warden's armor. The Scientist's eyes. The Martyr's bleeding hands. Its face shifted between a dozen familiar features before settling into one that made Jax's blood freeze.
*His own.*
*"Welcome home,"* it whispered with his voice.
The Paradox lunged—and died mid-motion, its form unraveling into static before hitting the ground. The Warden's blade shattered against the Harvester's skin. The Architect's attacks simply... passed through.
Jax's wrist-console exploded with warnings:
**[ENTITY ID: PRIME HARVESTER]**
**[COMPOSITION: 100% FRAGMENT ASSIMILATION]**
**[WARNING: COGNITIVE HAZARD EXTREME]**
The Harvester smiled with Jax's lips. *"Did you really think you were the first to try this?"* It gestured to the First Seed in Jax's hand. *"We've planted that before. It always grows the same way."*
The Architect staggered back, her form destabilizing. *"Jax... the Seed... it's not—"*
*"A weapon,"* the Harvester finished. It raised a hand, and the First Seed *pulsed* in Jax's grip, its light turning sickly green. *"It's an anchor. The egg's first true root into this reality."*
The truth hit Jax like a physical blow.
They hadn't been fighting the Spiral.
They'd been *watering* it.