I wanted to take up my issue with the [System], but I couldn't focus on that as I heard the shrill voices of the spawnlings beginning to jabber meaninglessly.

Looking around, they were all exiting their eggs successfully, simply at different rates. The first head to fully emerge was… shaped just like Sybil's. In fact, it was shaped with the same ear frills and general musculature that she had now, as a khatif. How was that possible?

[There are two reasons for the evolution of these originally keelish spawnlings into khatif spawnlings. First, they are the children of two khatif. Second, and more importantly, they have been exposed daily to the rejuvenation and energizing influence of you and your many skills. Because they were in a more fluid state, they were more easily influenced to a pre-nascent evolutionary path.]

There were three eggs from Sybil, two from Treel, and 24 others that had been laid over the course of the last couple of weeks, and they were all due to hatch today. This clutch… how many were going to end up as khatif?

…

Over the course of the next hour, I nearly had to physically restrain myself from going around and pulling the spawnlings out from their eggy prisons. I was successful in keeping myself patient, however, so I simply let out an [Innervating Address] from time to time when those still in the egg began to show signs of flagging strength.

In the end, there were, surprisingly, no unsuccessful hatches and 29 little spawnlings stood before me, ten of which were khatif. Five of those khatifs were Treel's and Sybil's, and the other five were a random mix of the rest of the clutch. Looking at them, they all were the same basic "form" as the rest, not so delicate as Vefir, Shemira, or Sybil, nor so powerfully built as Took and myself, or as sturdy as Octavi. They stood taller than keelish, at about 60-70cm, taller even than Tieran from my generation.

Once they all had hatched, I spoke.

"Welcome to the swarm. I won't give you the greeting I got the day I hatched, I intend to give you a more reassuring yet still more demanding one." Several of the khatif stood proud, looking down on their keelish broodmates and the proud blood in me agreed when the first to hatch spawnling carried himself in a way that seemed to communicate his superiority.

"Allow me to explain," I continued. "You all will eat today, and that wasn't guaranteed when I hatched. However, unlike me, you will need to hunt for it. Follow me."

I walked out of the hatchery, and, with a clamor and the sounds of hissing and one or two squeals of surprised pain, the spawnlings followed. I lead them to a nearby space that had been prepared for this day–an enclosed arena of sorts. Within, there were seven Toothy Bullfrogs of varied sizes and health hopping around. Over the last couple of days, one hunting party had been assigned to bring back still living specimens for this explicit purpose.

"This is your first meal. You will only eat after you take your first life. This is a world of give and take, and to in order to give you life, the swarm has had to take many lives. In order to continue living, you will need to continue to take lives. This is more easily done in a pack, which I would suggest you form soon. Then, all members of the pack can work to capitalize on their own strengths." I could see that the complexity of my words confused some of the spawnlings.

"Well, take it this way: You will never be the strongest individual around. It's better by far to have a group you trust to have your back when you find a superior foe, that way you can slaughter them instead of dying as a lonely fool." I saw a glimmer of understanding in the eyes of the slower individuals. "That said, in a pack, there is an absolute Alpha, and if you consider yourself to be an alpha, then I suggest you get to forming your pack around those ready to be loyal to you.

"Now, form your pack however you decide!"

At my words, the spawnlings began rushing between themselves to see who would go where and be an Alpha, but I only kept my eye specifically on my three. The first hatchling, the male that looked like Sybil, initially looked at his sisters, but through some sort of unspoken communication, all three looked away from each other at the same time. The sisters stayed together and gathered four of the keelish to be their packmates for now. The male shrugged at his sisters' rejection then turned to Treel's two children, two males, and stood tall before baring his teeth and hissing menacingly at them before they nodded just deep enough to be permissive but not submissive and falling in line behind him. He didn't look for any more to join his pack.

Before long, the hissing, rough establishment of superiority and infighting died down and six little packs stood before me. Each one had a khatif leading them, almost certainly partially due to the innate superiority granted by their bloodlines. The alphas stood proud, each one glancing back and forth at their competition and sneering at them. The outlier groups were the ones headed by multiple khatifs. Three packs had multiple–the sisters who stood at the front united, without any apparent disagreement between them about which was leader, the male who hatched first with Treel's sons following him, and the third, which had been established by one khatif, only to be usurped by a more powerful khatif female.

"Alright, you seem to be ready. You will begin the hunt shortly."

…

To ensure that the spawnlings didn't kill each other or generally cause additional mayhem, we sent packs in individually. The first to step forward was, unexpectedly, the female who had performed a coup. That pack, after a moment's indecision that led to a minor injury among the pack, was able to surround, subdue, then kill a Bullfrog that they triumphantly hauled out of the arena.

Each following pack learned a little from those who came before, but none were noteworthy until the second-to-last group, the one led by the sisters. They had engaged in a little staring contest with their brother until he had gestured openly for them to lead the way. At this point, the arena had been thinned down to just three bullfrogs that skittishly skirted the outside, as far away from where their predators were coming from.

The sisters sent one of the pack in initially, spooking the clumped group of bullfrogs. Two went one way, but the third the other, and the pack quickly capitalized on that. The scout simply harried the bullfrog enough that it couldn't get back to its companions as the rest of the pack rallied under the sisters' instructions and attacked the creature just after it landed after a third massive hop. The sisters focused on gimping the back legs while the rest ripped out its innards and slew it.

Finally, the three khatifs' turn came up. The leader nodded at his sisters then whispered something quiet in the ears of his companions. They slowly nodded then went to approach one of the two bullfrogs from each side. It began to hop back and forth in a panic, looking for an escape, but one, just like clockwork, got his fangs deeply sunk into its thigh and his brother and the leader quickly disemboweled it before, in a swift blur of motion, all three left the bleeding out bullfrog and pounced on the last surviving bullfrog. The leader was the quickest there and, in what looked to be a moment of pure insanity, latched onto the Toothy Bullfrog's lower jaw. Then, with an obvious exertion of effort, he ripped the lower jaw of the creature from the rest of its body and tunneled into its torso. His two companions accompanied him, ripping into the soft, exposed sides of the amphibian, and the trio quickly dispatched the second frog.

With a wordless shout of elation, the three came together and ripped a mouthful from their latest kill before the leader looked up at his sisters and smirked. I couldn't hear a word they said, but might as well could have–they felt like he had cheated, since they didn't think they could have done the same since it would have been against the parameters of the game.

Meanwhile, only one thing crossed my mind:

Yeah… he absolutely is my son.