The world inside Jonah's head was filled with psychic scream. Forcing the Glimmermoth essence and the Lizard Egg together was like smashing two mismatched gears into each other at full speed. It hit him like a wave of fire - wild and merciless. The backlash slammed into him, and he grunted in pain, his vision swimming with black spots.

"Kid, what are you doing?!" Jax yelled, taking a step toward him, his hand outstretched to stop whatever madness this was.

But Seraph's voice cut through the air, sharp and absolute. "Stay back. Let him do his thing."

In Jonah's trembling hand, the simple lizard egg began to change. It didn't glow with a pure light like Specter's cocoon. Instead, it twitched violently and pulsed, becoming an ugly throbbing thing. Sickly green lines of light spread over its skin. It grew too fast, forming a lumpy, ugly shell of hard silk and energy

There was a wrongness to it, a feeling of life being forced where it wasn't meant to go.

The process, which should have taken hours, was over in less than ten seconds. The cocoon shook hard and then split open with a ripping sound.

A creature stumbled out, falling onto the rock with a clumsy flap of mismatched wings.

It was hideous.

It had the scaly, green body of a lizard, but four moth like wings grew strangely from its back, glowing with a faint, dusty light. Two long, glowing antennae twitched from its head and its eyes were the big, black, unblinking orbs of an insect. It looked fragile, unstable, like a gust of wind might cause it to fall apart.

The entire team stared, a mixture of horror and fascination on their faces.

"By the Great Wall…" Titus whispered, his disciplined facade finally cracking. He had seen terrifying monsters, but he had never seen anything so fundamentally… incorrect.

A prompt bloomed in Jonah's aching mind, confirming what his gut already told him.

[Blitz-Synthesis Complete. Progeny Created: Enzyme Weaver (Grade 2 - Unstable)].

Skill: [Catalytic Secretion].

Lifespan: 1 Hour.

Unstable. Lifespan: 1 Hour.

This creature was born on a timer. It was born to die.

Jonah pushed the thought aside. He had no time for morals. Benita was still shaking badly, her breaths getting weaker.

He focused on the ugly little creature. It looked up at him, its creator, with a deep constant loyalty.

"The enzyme," Jonah commanded, his voice a ragged whisper. "Produce it. Now."

The Enzyme Weaver trembled, and a thick, milky fluid began to form on the ends of its glowing antennae. A single drop fell to the rock, sizzling faintly. The fluid glowed with a soft light. It was the enzyme. The solution to making an antidote.

"Jax!" Vanessa yelled, snapping the Hunter out of his stupor. "The antidote!"

Benita, barely conscious, managed to force out a few words, her voice a faint, rattling gasp. "My kit… sterile vial… mix with… purification agent…"

Jax, his skepticism completely forgotten in the face of the crisis, moved with surprising speed. He grabbed Benita's medic pack, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as he pulled out the necessary supplies.

"Here!" Jonah commanded the Enzyme Weaver. The creature crawled forward and let the glowing fluid drip from its antennae into the vial Jax held.

"How much?" Jax asked, his eyes locked on Benita's fading form.

"All of it," Vanessa answered for her, her voice tight with fear.

Following Benita's faint instructions, Jax mixed the glowing enzyme with a clear liquid from another vial. The mixture swirled, turning from milky white to a soft, golden color that pulsed with a gentle warmth.

"It's ready," he announced.

Working together, he and Titus carefully tilted Benita's head and administered the cure.

For a few heart stopping seconds, nothing happened. Benita's body was still, her breathing almost nonexistent.

Then, she took a single, shaky breath. Her body went still. The faint blue tinge faded from her lips, and the violent tension in her muscles relaxed. The color slowly began to return to her face.

The team let out a shared sigh of relief, so powerful it was almost a physical force. She was saved.

Benita's eyes slowly opened, hazy and unfocused. She looked at Jonah, then at the strange, twitching moth lizard that was now resting quietly at his feet.

In the aftermath of the crisis, the true weight of what had just happened settled over the team. Jax and Titus, the professional soldiers, stared at Jonah with a new, deep respect.

Their faces showed no sign of their old doubt. This boy, this 'kid' from the Academy, hadn't just commanded a monster to disable a foe. He hadn't just used some strange, unknowable power.

He had created life.

He had performed an act of creation in the middle of a battlefield, not to kill, but to heal. He had seen a problem that their combined strength and experience couldn't solve, and he had built the solution from scratch in under a minute.

He was more than a weapon. He was the ultimate utility tool. A walking, talking forge of biological miracles.

As the team began to recover, a soft light emanated from Jonah's feet. He looked down. The Enzyme Weaver, its purpose fulfilled, was beginning to dissolve. Its unstable body couldn't hold itself together any longer. Its scaly skin and glowing wings broke down into motes of golden green light, like fireflies taking flight.

The creature looked up at Jonah one last time, its black, insectoid eyes holding not pain, but a simple, quiet acceptance. Then, with a final, gentle pulse, it was gone.

Jonah stared at the empty space where it had been, a sudden, sharp pang of sadness twisting in his gut.

He had won. He saved Benita. He had proven his worth to his doubtful team. But he had done it by creating a life meant only to be disposable. It was a victory that felt strangely like a loss, a reminder of the moral weight that came with being a creator.