"Humanity has once again proven persistence in the face of extinction. Who ever thought we could stand a chance against the Aberrents using our bodies too?" ~ Head of Gene Research, H.G.R, Dr. Owel.
The hall went silent for a heartbeat as the weight of the words sank in. The air itself seemed heavy, charged with expectation. Every child, parent, and attendant instinctively turned toward the figure making his approach.
One of the Pillars of Humanity? The son of Zei? A murmur ran through the crowd like rippling water, disbelief mixing with awe.
From the far end of the circular hall, a slim, athletic boy walked confidently toward the stage. His features were delicate yet firm, the kind of balance only seen in those naturally gifted by fate. He couldn't have been older than eight, yet there was a presence about him that silenced whispers and drew all eyes.
Golden eyes, sharp and mischievous, glimmered beneath black hair that brushed his shoulders. Even from a distance, it was obvious—this was no ordinary child. His small, poised steps were accompanied by a middle-aged man in a black suit, whose expression was a careful mask of professionalism, betraying only a hint of pride.
"It's really him," a voice whispered from the crowd, almost reverently.
"The son of the Thunderbird… he has his father's eyes," another voice added, breathless with excitement.
A murmur ran through the hall like an electric current. Children leaned forward in anticipation, parents stiffened in awe, and even some of the lesser-ranked officials couldn't help but pause in their tasks. All eyes were on him.
John, standing near the line for his verification, couldn't tear his gaze away. Mum was right… he came. Excitement surged through him, a fluttering mix of nervousness and admiration. I can't wait to meet him… maybe I can even become his friend, he thought, tightening his small fists in anticipation. He straightened his posture, attempting to mask the tremor of awe in his chest.
A few steps closer, the boy halted before a silver console. The hall hummed softly as Dr. Nathan, the overseer of the verification process, adjusted his glasses and watched the boy with a measured calm.
"Good day, Dr. Nathan. I am here for verification," the young boy said. His voice was calm, smooth, and composed beyond his years. There was a charisma in it that drew attention, commanding acknowledgment without the need for aggression.
"Ah… Aeon. So nice to see you again," Dr. Nathan replied, a low chuckle escaping him. "You've grown significantly since the last time we met."
Aeon merely smiled faintly, a shadow of pride in his expression, and stepped into the machine waiting beside the stage. The device hummed to life, metallic arms tracing his body with holographic lights. Streams of golden and blue data scanned every contour, mapping not just the physical, but the genetic signatures within. The scanning light danced across the hall, reflecting on the polished floors, casting fractal shadows that mirrored the tension of the moment.
John watched intently, eyes wide. He had read about this process, but seeing it unfold in real life was entirely different. The scan captured Aeon's full profile, projecting a holographic image into the floating pad Dr. Nathan held. Every movement of the boy was precise, deliberate, and oddly graceful.
"You may go," Dr. Nathan said finally, watching Aeon step back and walk away.
A low murmur escaped his lips, barely audible. "Because your children of faulty, self-made gods… you think you are above everything. I can't wait for the awakening of Calythar." His words, though soft, carried a weight of quiet resentment and a promise of the trials yet to come.
Dr. Nathan's gaze lifted to the line of waiting children. His eyes, dark and unreadable, scanned each child with precision, noting their posture, their nervous tics, and the faint traces of excitement or fear etched onto their small faces. He exhaled slowly and addressed the next child.
"Next."
John took a deep breath, feeling his stomach twist with nerves and adrenaline. He clenched his fists, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt under his fingers. This is it… the beginning, he thought. The atmosphere around him was electric. The murmurs of the crowd, the distant hum of the verification machines, the whispers of other parents—everything blended into a symphony of anticipation.
Children shifted nervously in line, some fidgeting, some standing rigidly. Some whispered encouragement to each other. A few glanced around with wide eyes, as though trying to measure their chances against the others.
John's gaze fell back on Aeon as the boy took his seat, calm and poised as ever. Even from afar, there was a quiet confidence radiating from him—a reminder that mastery wasn't always about size or age, but control and focus.
He noticed other children stealing glances, eyes wide, whispers barely audible. Everyone knows… the last son of Zei is here. And he's going first. Everyone will be watching. The pressure was tangible, suffocating even, but John stood his ground. He squared his shoulders, letting the determination build in his chest. I will not falter. I will make them see I belong here.
The gates of the massive hall seemed to pulse with energy, almost like the building itself was alive, aware of each heartbeat within. Floating lights shimmered along the edges of the high ceiling, and faint currents of mana wove through the air, brushing past John like invisible fingers. He swallowed, feeling the hum resonate through his bones.
Next in line, John adjusted his posture again, straightening his shirt and taking a deep breath. Whatever happens… I must remain calm. I have to focus. I have to endure. His mind repeated the mantra silently, over and over, as he stepped forward to face his own verification.