"And for what?" he asked. "For them? For people who will fear you the moment they understand you? People who will classify you, regulate you, and perhaps lock you in some research facility if your existence ever feels too unstable?"
Ruel's face went pale.
He knew enough about the Federation to know those words were not entirely empty.
Michael's gaze did not waver.
"Is that what you think I am doing?" he asked quietly. "Standing on their side?"
The old man smiled again.
"I think," he said, "you have not yet chosen a side at all. You are experimenting. Testing your strength. Seeing how far you can go within their rules before you outgrow them."
He spread his arms slightly.
"I am simply telling you that there is another path. A path where people like us decide our own limits. Where we are not punished for being stronger."
"And what is that path?" Michael asked.
"The greater path these fools call demonic," the old man answered without hesitation.
He tilted his head.
