The study was a sanctuary of quiet intensity, where the soft hiss of the hearth blended seamlessly with the rhythmic ticking of a hidden clock.
It felt alive, pulsing with energy beneath the surface,like machinery nestled deep within the bones of Dominion Sanctum.
Arthur closed his book deliberately, placing it on the glass table beside his half-finished wine.
The dim light glinted off his golden-rimd glasses as he turned his gaze back to Evolon’s projection,a spectral figure glowing faintly like a spirit forged from steel.
With an unhurried yet sharp tone, Arthur asked, "Evolon,you’ve had ti. Were you able to trace them all? The branches scattered across this world?"
Evolon’s holographic form straightened, its synthetic pupils narrowing with determination.
"Yes, Patriarch. I’ve traced them all,one hundred and seven branches... not including your own. In total, one hundred and eight lines still carry Osborn blood."
Arthur’s eyes glead with interest. "Show ."
As if responding to a silent command, the study darkened around them.
Bookshelves and the fireplace faded away, giving way to vibrant projections that illuminated the walls.
A globe spun slowly in midair above the lounge table not just any sphere but a detailed map of Panterra’s thirteen continents, each rendered with ruthless clarity.
The oceans shimred a deep obsidian blue while coastlines sparkled like silver threads against a dark canvas.
Thousands of glowing data points pulsed like stars across landmasses connected by intricate webs of red, green, and amber lines, a living constellation representing the Osborn bloodline.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, wine glass tilted just so as he took it all in.
Evolon’s voice resonated through the expansive room,calm yet cold and almost reverent.
"To find them," Evolon began confidently, "I used your genetic sequence as a root identifier. Osborn blood carries unique markers,subtle yet traceable."
He continued detailing how he constructed a multi-tier search across countless databases, from hospitals and blood banks to genetic therapy records and even clandestine military archives.
Data streams cascaded before them: strings of nucleotides flowed like rivers on screen.
"I developed what I call the Osborn Genetic Signature (OGS), based on forty-eight rare allelic combinations unique to your lineage," Evolon explained.
"Once refined, I cross-referenced this signature against over 20.4 billion genos in Panterra HealthNet and nurous off-ledger sources."
Arthur smirked faintly at this revelation. "So you hunted them through their blood."
"Through their blood," Evolon confird, his tone steady. "From routine dical checkups to anonymous blood donations, from embryo screenings to forensic cri labs,all across our world, DNA leaves its traces. I layered the OGS against population datasets and utilized Bayesian probability matrices to calculate likelihood scores. Any score exceeding 92% confidence was earmarked for a deep trace."
Arthur’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. "And that led us to them all?"
"All," Evolon affird. "I executed recursive sweeps through financial trails, census registries, and biotric logs to verify identities.Whenever discrepancies arose, I followed the blood,because DNA never lies."
The globe spun, zooming in on the continents as they swelled like living organisms.
Red points flickered for branches in crisis, amber for those clinging on, and green for thriving entities.
"I classified the branches into three operational tiers," Evolon continued.
"High, dium, and low. High-tier branches are affluent and influential, still maneuvering as powers in their regions.
dium-tier branches maintain presence and assets but face corruption, decay, or pressure from outside forces.
Low-tier branches are impoverished, scattered, or have assimilated into ordinary society,so might even be working regular 9-to-5 jobs, while others are lost in bankruptcy, forgotten even by themselves."
Arthur sipped his wine deliberately, nodding as he absorbed the information. "Go on," he urged, his interest piqued.
---
The map refocused on Aurelia, cities glowing like veins across the vast landscape.
"Aurelia is ho to twenty-three branches," Evolon explained. "Seven are high-tier. Ten are in the dium zone. Six exist at the low end."
Lines traced across the map, bringing the data to life.
"In the north, the Whitmore-controlled sector includes three Osborn branches that continue to masquerade as industrial dynasties.
Together, they boast a population of one hundred seventy-nine. Their wealth index? Significant, albeit partially monitored by Whitmore’s intelligence agencies. Status? High."
Arthur frowned slightly. "Watched dogs, indeed."
"Correct," Evolon affird. "anwhile, in southern Aurelia, we find remnants of decay. Two branches have dwindled to less than twenty mbers each,one lives as minor aristocracy; the other, as impoverished clerks and traders. Their Osborn heritage? All but faded away."
Arthur remained silent, lost in thought as he sipped his wine.
The globe swung over to Verdanian, where lush jungles and imposing fortress-cities lit up with the vibrancy of history.
"Here, we have thirty-one branches: twelve high-tier, ten dium, and nine low."
Holographic crests danced across the screen, illuminating a world of power and intrigue.
"High-tier branches in Verdanian dominate the landscape with their banking empires, control over ports, and agricultural monopolies.
One branch alone boasts nearly forty thousand workers in sprawling plantation syndicates!
anwhile, the dium-tier branches are fragnted,so possess shipping fleets, but rampant corruption leaves them vulnerable.
As for the low-tier Osborns here? Many have been forced into rcenary roles or bureaucratic positions; so even changed their nas just to survive the purges a century ago."
Arthur broke his silence, curiosity lacing his voice. "What’s the population?"
"Four hundred sixty-eight confird," Evolon replied matter-of-factly. "It’s the largest concentration of Osborn blood outside Noctis."
Arthur exhaled softly, a hint of realization dawning on him. "They multiply where blood runs fast."
Noctis Continent
The map zood in on Noctis,their holand.
"There are fourteen branches across Noctis: three high-tier, four dium, and seven low," Evolon explained. "Total population: one hundred ninety-three."
His tone sharpened slightly as he continued.
"Notably, Arthur, Noctis branches faced severe culling during the betrayal a century ago.
Many were slaughtered outright; survivors scattered inland,so intermarried while others hid behind assud identities.
Several branches now live as commoners: shopkeepers, teachers, low-level bureaucrats. One branch even operates in banking under another family’s thumb, status: low."
Arthur’s jaw tightened at that revelation; the wolf engraving behind him seed to snarl under the shifting light.
---
One by one, Evolon’s voice laid bare each continent:
Zephyria Continent: "Nine branches,two high, three dium, four low. Population: eighty-six."
Umbra Continent:"Eight branches,one high, four dium, three low. Population: fifty-three."
Froatara Continent:"Seven branches,two high, two dium, three low. Population: forty-eight."
Ignis Continent:"Five branches,none high; two dium and three low. Population: thirty-one."
Crystalia Continent:"Four branches,Two dium and two low. Population: sixty."
Lunara Continent "Three branches,one dium and two low. Population: twenty."
Eryndor Continent:"One branch,low-tier nomadic traders with a population of eleven."
Aquarion Continent: "One branch,dium-tier surviving as minor nobility under Mordain Royal Family oversight with a population of fifteen."
Solar Continent: Two branches,one dium and one low. Total population; ten.
On and on, Evolon spoke, each continent unfolding like a secret dossier, every branch laid bare under the stark glow of data.
The map pulsed brighter with each tally, transforming the globe into a shimring constellation of forgotten heirs.
---
As Evolon’s voice shifted to a tone of finality, the atmosphere thickened.
"In total: one hundred and seven branches. The combined population of the Osborn bloodline,including your own branch,stands at one thousand seventy-four."
Arthur’s eyes flickered briefly,a small gesture that belied the weight of that staggering number. A thousand and seventy-four Osborns.
So kings ruled nations with fewer loyal followers.
Arthur leaned back in his lounge chair, swirling the last drops of wine in his glass.
The gold-rimd lenses caught the light from the spinning globe, revealing continents mapped in blood.
"High. dium. Low," he murmured softly. "The strong, the struggling, the broken."
He gazed at the globe for what felt like an eternity while Evolon remained silent, allowing contemplation to fill the room.
Finally, Arthur’s lips curled into a slow, sharp smile.
"A thousand Osborns," he mused aloud. "Enough to build a dynasty that could shake the world or drown it in its own blood."
Behind him lood an engraving of a wolf, watching, listening, grinning its eternal toothy grin.
In that study filled with flickering firelight and glowing data-light, an empire was being conceived,a womb of ambition and power ready to birth sothing monuntal.
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