Alberto stood before his family like an unyielding bastion, a living wall shielding them from a world that had never shown mercy. Yet behind his steady posture, his eyes betrayed him—within them raged a storm of grief, fear, and unspoken dread. "Tomorrow… I leave," he said, his voice low but firm, as though each word had been dragged out of his soul. "To a war that will decide our fate."
The sentence fell into the room like boulders crashing into a still pond, shattering the fragile peace that had wrapped around them moments before.
Hiels, perceptive as ever, read the truth hidden between his words. She did not crumble. She did not question. Instead, she stood tall—unyielding, dignified, every inch the wife of a commander. But in the depths of her silence, something trembled.
Arios, too young to grasp the weight of destiny, tilted his head with innocent curiosity. "Father… where are you going?"
Alberto knelt slightly, softening his expression, though the lie already burned on his tongue. "To work, my little one… and I'll be back soon."
A gentle lie—fragile, almost tender—wrapped around a truth far too bitter to be spoken aloud.
Elios said nothing.
His silence, however, carried more meaning than any outburst could. He clenched his jaw, trapping the tears that threatened to betray him, and lifted his chin with quiet defiance. In that moment, something shifted inside him. He understood—without being told—that the role of "the man of the house" had been placed upon his shoulders far too soon.
Before leaving, Alberto turned to Hiels, his voice dropping into a whisper, as if the future itself were listening.
"Never measure Arios's strength," he said, his tone grave, almost cautionary. "And don't let them reach that… terrible state."
The words hung in the air like a pair of incantations—cryptic, heavy with meaning. Hiels nodded, sealing the promise within herself. Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell. She would not allow them to.
And then he was gone.
Gone into the unknown.
Leaving behind hearts that beat with a fragile mixture of hope and dread.
A Display of Power — and the Fracture of Three Units
The next day, beneath a golden sun that filtered gently through swaying branches, Elios stood in the garden, embodying the legendary might of the Celestine bloodline. The air itself seemed to respond to him.
With one hand, he lifted a massive boulder—its weight measured in tons—as though it were nothing more than a child's toy. With a single strike of his palm, he shattered a mound of earth, sending dust and debris scattering into the wind.
"Amazing…" Arios whispered, his eyes wide with awe, his voice trembling with admiration. "Brother… you're incredible."
Elios turned, a proud smile spreading across his face. "You'll be like this too, one day," he said confidently. "Just wait."
But reality proved far less forgiving.
The moment Elios left, Arios stepped forward, determination burning quietly within him. He clenched his small fists, tightened his fragile muscles, and held his breath as though mimicking the rituals of strength would somehow grant him power.
He reached for the boulder.
Nothing.
Not even the slightest movement.
He tried again—harder this time—his face reddening, his body straining against an unyielding force. The stone did not so much as tremble.
Frustration crept in, but he refused to stop. He turned instead to a dry branch, gripping it tightly, attempting to snap it in half.
It did not break.
In a world governed by numbers—where worth was quantified in "units"—Arios felt like an anomaly. A flaw. An error embedded within a perfectly ordered system.
And yet…
He did not cry.
Instead, something else ignited within him—a quiet, defiant spark. His eyes hardened, reflecting not despair, but resolve.
"One day…" he murmured under his breath, "I will surpass everyone."
The Violet Mark — The Unknown Seal
That evening, as twilight draped the world in shades of fading gold and violet, Hiels bathed Arios with gentle hands. It was then that she saw it.
The mark.
A swirling, violet sigil etched into his back—the same mark given to him by that mysterious "voice" in the void.
"Arios… have you felt anything unusual?" she asked carefully, her voice betraying none of the tension tightening her chest.
He turned his head slightly. "Mother… is there something on my back?"
She hesitated.
For a fraction of a second, truth hovered at the edge of her lips.
Then she smiled softly. "No, my dear… it's just a normal mark."
Another lie.
But unlike Alberto's, this one was laced with fear.
Because the mark was changing.
It was expanding—slowly, almost imperceptibly—like a living entity feeding on something unseen. Watching it filled her with a quiet terror.
Was it the source of his weakness?
Or was it something far more dangerous… a power waiting for the right moment to awaken?
Hiels did not want the answer.
So she buried her doubts beneath warmth, choosing love over truth—for now.
A Dinner of Tension — Ambition and Fear Collide
The door burst open as Elios entered, his clothes stained with dirt, his face glowing with exhilaration.
"Mother!" he exclaimed. "I want to join the army! My power has reached 1800 units—I'm already at elite level!"
His voice carried excitement, almost obsession, as he spoke of battles and destruction—as though the annihilation of continents were nothing more than a game.
Hiels froze.
In his eyes, she saw it.
The same light.
The same fire that had taken Alberto away from them.
"Enough!" she snapped, slamming her hand against the table. The sharp sound cut through the room like a blade. She quickly covered Arios's ears, shielding him from words soaked in violence.
"You are still a child, Elios," she said firmly, her voice steady but unyielding. "Power without mercy is nothing but destruction. You are forbidden from entering training zones, and you will not associate with reckless fighters."
The words struck harder than any physical blow.
Elios stood still for a moment.
Then, silently, he turned and walked away.
No argument.
No protest.
Only quiet defeat.
Arios remained seated, his gaze fixed on his mother, confusion clouding his thoughts.
Why did everyone fear the very power he longed for?
And why did sorrow fill the room every time his father was mentioned?
The Night Whispers Its Secrets
As night fell, moonlight poured gently over the house, wrapping it in a silver stillness.
Hiels stood watching her sons.
One possessed the strength of elites… but lacked wisdom.
The other held a pure heart—and a mysterious mark—but lacked even the most basic units.
In her room, she held Alberto's photograph, her fingers tracing its edges as her thoughts spiraled.
Would he return to find his children unchanged?
Or would time reshape them into something unrecognizable… something beyond her control?
Meanwhile, in his sleep, Arios stirred.
A faint heat began to spread from his back.
It was not pain.
No…
It felt like something else entirely—
Like a colossal engine, buried deep within his soul, slowly… beginning to awaken.