“Oh! Thank the stars, it’s a boy… your son is a boy,” a voice called out.

  The woman, half-conscious, twitched slightly as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Stretching out her arms, she gently took her newborn into her embrace—her joy radiant, her face glowing with soft, unrestrained smiles.

  Moments later, a broad-shouldered man entered the room—an embodiment of power. His cold aura softened as he laid eyes on the woman—his beautiful, loving wife.

  “Look, darling… it’s a boy,” the woman said softly.

  The man rushed to her side, cradling her as though she were an irreplaceable jewel. They held each other close, gazing at their newborn. The baby yawned and slowly opened his eyes—emerald green, shimmering like the soul of the world.

  “What should we call him?” the woman asked, still clutching the child with loving intensity.

  “Reeves… Vahn Reeves,” the man whispered.

  “Vahn Reeves, my son,” she echoed gently. Her hands trembled as she lifted him. His green hair fluttered in the breeze, and his curious gaze met theirs.

  The tender moment shattered when the woman suddenly fell into a violent coughing fit. Blood streamed from her mouth and nose as the convulsions worsened.

  “Maryn, do something!” the man ordered, placing the baby in a nearby cot.

  “I’m trying, sir!” the healer cried out, channeling glowing energy from her hands into the woman. Magic surged—but it was useless. The woman’s condition only deteriorated.

  “She’s getting worse! Her cells are dying faster than I can heal them!”

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  “I don’t care—fix her!” he roared, but his fury was silenced by the woman’s weak voice.

  “Cal… my love…”

  “Yes, my darling, I’m here—please, stay with me,” the man begged, eyes overflowing.

  “Tell Vahn I love him. I always did. I always will. Tell the children too. And I love you, Cal… more than you’ll ever know.”

  “No, no, please don’t say that—you’re not leaving me!” he pleaded, but her voice was gone. Her breath, stilled. Her smile lingered—but death had already claimed her.

  Time passed, but Cal didn’t move. The healer spoke, but her words faded into the background. He couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t feel anything—except the cold stillness of his wife's corpse.

  BOOM.

  A ghastly aura erupted from Cal, forcing everyone to their knees. The air became thick with raw, oppressive power.

  He turned to look at his son. And then, the memories came flooding in…

  ---

  “Cal, as your family cleric—and your friend—I strongly advise you to terminate the pregnancy,” a black-haired man with an aged aura had warned.

  “There’s no known method to stabilize a baby that’s draining its mother’s life force. You’ll lose her.”

  “No,” his wife had shouted. “I’m not getting rid of him. That’s final.”

  She stormed out of the medical facility. Cal had followed, unsure, conflicted—but ultimately chose her love over logic.

  Now, she was dead. All because of that decision.

  ---

  Cal looked at the newborn again. Not with warmth—only with rage.

  Then he left—soared into the sky without another glance.

  Days passed. Weeks became months. Years crawled forward.

  By age 3, Vahn Reeves was already showing signs of brilliance—smart, talented, the most exceptional child in the Matryn household despite being the youngest.

  But brilliance didn’t matter. Not in this house.

  It began small—scolding for mistakes, punishments for the tiniest flaws. Then came the bruises. Beatings. Verbal abuse. From his father. The maids. Even his siblings.

  By 14, it was hell.

  The other children awakened powerful abilities—and Vahn? Nothing. He became a living training dummy. Burned, frozen, slammed into walls, beaten senseless day after day.

  At night, a kind maid would sneak in to treat his wounds. But kindness only made things worse. The siblings despised her mercy.

  A year later, as training intensified for academy exams, his daily torment tripled. One day, a stray energy beam shattered his already-shabby gear, leaving him vulnerable. He was struck again—and again—until a cracked rib pierced near his heart.

  He collapsed.

  The maid rushed him to the cleric.

  He awoke to voices.

  “Why did you save him?”

  “He drained the life out of my wife. He should be buried and drained by the earth in return.”

  His father’s words.

  Hope shattered.

  Vahn stopped resisting. He stopped fighting. The next day, he stood still and let the abuse wash over him like rain. No screams. No tears. Just blank eyes.

  Then, one night, minutes after midnight—it happened.

  Agonizing pain tore through his body. Bones cracked. Blood poured from his nose, ears, eyes. His body writhed, contorted.

  The maid entered with food—only to drop the tray in horror.

  She rushed to him, pouring healing energy into him, desperate to ease the pain.

  And finally—finally—the thing Vahn had dreamed of began to awaken.

  The one thing he thought might bring him love. The one thing everyone prayed for, but only 10% of humanity achieved.

  His ability.