“F-four elements…?” Valmira seemed uncertain. 

While Aunt Liora refused to believe it. “Amilia, you’re really bad at making jokes, you know?” She giggled nervously. “There’s no way a mere four-year-old can use all the main elements, right?” 

Mom shook her head, though she didn’t say anything. Dad, however, stepped forward and locked eyes with me. “It’s better if he shows you; words aren’t always the best way to explain things.” He gave me a nod.

I hesitated, thrown off by his words. My gaze found Mom’s, and she slowly nodded as well. 

I walked toward the center of the room. I was uncertain about this, not because I lacked control, but because I was about to reveal what my family had tried to hide.

I exhaled slowly, my body temperature dropping slightly as a blue light formed around me, swirling like blue flame. I didn’t need to close my eyes anymore. I had almost perfect control over my eidra and arcis. 

I let the water element slip away, and my body temperature came back to normal. My hair fluttered as wind coiled around me, green eidra shimmering like blades of grass caught in a sudden gale. I watched Aunt Liora’s reaction, and I could tell she didn’t believe it. Since my Mom also uses two elements. 

Well…guess I’ll have to bring the other two out as well.

The wind dispersed, and the green eidra faded. Heat bloomed in its place, sudden and sharp, as crimson fire ignited around me, not flaring wildly, but burning with a steady intensity, like embers forced into perfect order. 

Aunt Liora and Valmira gasped, but before any one of them could speak, the fire dimmed without a spark, its heat sinking inward. The floor beneath my feet answered next, low and heavy, as earthen eidra rose in quiet sheets, dull brown and unmoving, pressing against the room like a held breath. 

After a few seconds, I let my eidra fade away, and the room settled back into silence. Mom and Dad both gave me another nod. I could see pride and concern on their faces. On the other hand…aunt Liora seemed to be in complete and utter shock, Valmira looked equally shocked, her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that went beyond surprise. 

After a few minutes passed, Aunt Liora spoke, “… Rendal, Amilia, what is he…?” Her voice was leveled now, though; there was no hiding the weariness behind it.

My heart stopped at that question. What does she mean by that? 

Dad narrowed his eyes.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “He’s a human,” she said dryly. “And my son.”

Aunt Liora shook her head and shot Mom a glare. “Amilia,” her voice was low, unusually low. “Do you not realize what will happen to him in the future?” She questioned. The tension in the room escalating further. 

“Of course I know,” Mom replied, a frown forming on her face. “That’s why I’m training him.” 

Aunt Liora scoffed. “You’re not doing that good a job at ‘training’ him.”

My eyes went wide. It was quiet for a moment, even the wind didn’t dare to whisper. 

Mom tensed for a moment, then relaxed. “You’re right…” 

My head snapped toward her. Before I could say anything, Dad shot me a glance that made me close my mouth instantly. 

Aunt Liora’s expression softened, “Look, at first I thought he didn’t need any training with a core like that, but…I think he needs training more than anyone now.” She paused, then added slowly. “He had a core since birth, and now he can use all the main elements.” 

It got quiet again for a bit.

“Normally, a core awakens in phase one. Then stabilizes through phase two. But only at the third phase does one get an element.” Aunt Liora stated, crossing her arms. “Yet, Kairon here got all the elements while he’s at the second phase.”  

I bit my lip. It would’ve been like that for me too, but I absorbed the Emberjaw’s core long ago.  

“From the looks of it, once he reaches the third phase, his elemental branching will begin.” 

Elemental branching?  

Valmira spoke up, glancing at me as if she had read my mind. “Um…What’s elemental branching?” 

Aunt Liora smiled at her. “It’s a little hard to explain,” she paused, thinking about a way to explain. “Think of it like this, you’ve seen a tree, right?”

Valmira nodded. 

“Now, imagine it like this, the four elements are the trunk of the tree, then the branches, they’re called sub-elements. Like trees, all the main elements have branches as well.” 

Valmira nodded, and so did I. 

I held up a hand, “So…what are these ‘branches’?” I titled my head, a habit when I get curious. 

Mom spoke, hesitation still lingered in her voice. “I suppose you should know.”

Aunt Liora nodded. “Very well. Each of the four basic elements has what we call branches or sub-elements. They’re…specialized manifestations, born from the main element once the core truly awakens.” She glanced at me, then back at Valmira. “For example,” she continued, “water can give rise to ice, a controlled cold that can freeze almost everything around it. Wind can branch into sound, waves carried by air, subtle or sharp. Fire may split into lightning, pure energy leaping from one point to another. And earth… tectonic energy, the power that can move the very ground beneath you.”

Valmira’s eyes widened. “So… those are stronger than the main elements?”

“Not necessarily stronger,” Aunt Liora answered, her tone precise, “but more versatile, more refined. They require a core to not just awaken, but adapt. And once a core begins branching, it can eventually combine branches in ways very few can imagine. That’s why someone like Kairon…” she let the words hang for a moment, “…is considered highly irregular.”

I swallowed. It sounded scary when she said it out loud.

“Sub-elements are accessible to anyone who possesses the parent affinity,” Dad spoke from behind. He ran a hand through his hair. “In short, Kairon here can use…” He trailed off, and he didn’t need to finish that sentence; everyone present already knew the answer. 

What the hell…? I know I was special, but isn’t this too much? I questioned myself, fearing my own abilities. A shiver ran down my spine from just thinking about it. 

After a moment, Aunt Liora stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “Anyway, I should leave,” She picked up her satchel. 

Mom snapped out of her thoughts. “Already? Why don’t you stay for lunch?” 

“I can’t, I need to go back to the academy by the day after tomorrow. Erasden is pretty far away.” She turned towards the door and picked up her cloak. “I was in the area, so I swung by for a bit.”  

She gave Valmira a head pat and walked over to me. “Kairon, I know you’re tired of hearing this, but don’t tell anyone about this. Stay at home as much as possible.” She patted my head as well. 

I simply nodded. 

Aunt Liora walked toward the door, and Mom followed her. She waved at us over her shoulder. “Bye-bye, everyone~.”

They exchanged a few words, then soft goodbyes were heard. A soft click rang through the air as Mom closed the door behind her. 

The house was quiet, too quiet. Mom folded some laundry, and Valmira helped her out, though she only made more mess. Dad left a few minutes ago to check the fields and water the crops. 

I went outside for a bit, and the sunlight was covered with dark clouds. Cold wind blew over the village that rustled the leaves. I sat down on the stairs in front of our house, and my gaze drifted upward, taking in the dark clouds that loomed over me. 

I had nothing on my mind; it was blank, just like those clouds. 

Maybe I’m starting to get used to everything here. I felt myself shiver at the chilly wind. So I can use almost every element? This reminds me of the novels I used to read on Earth, before the Ashborns attacked. Overpowered main character cliche. Maybe I’m some main character too… I laughed at that thought. 

I closed my eyes and inhaled a long breath. I’m not some main character, nor am I in a novel. This is a place that I’m completely unaware of, my new home. 

—— ✦ ——

Night came quickly, and I lay in my bed, half asleep. My eyelids felt heavy, I closed them, and after a short while, I fell asleep. 

The usual darkness didn’t follow; instead, I found myself in a familiar place. A bowl of freshly made ramen rested in front of me, and its aroma filled my nostrils. I reached out and picked up the chopsticks. 

I ate blissfully, the flavour exploding in my mouth with every bite I took. 

I kept eating, unbothered, the warmth of the broth spreading through my chest in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. The noodles were springy, the eggs perfectly soft, the kind of meal you only appreciated when you were exhausted. Steam fogged my vision for a moment, and when it cleared, everything still felt… right. Too right. My shoulders were broader, my hands steadier as I lifted the bowl slightly, tilting it to drink the last of the broth without spilling a drop.

That was when it struck me.

My hands. They weren’t small. No softness, no awkward proportions. They were the hands I remembered, long fingers, nails trimmed short out of habit rather than necessity. I stared at them, rotating my wrists slowly, the motion fluid and familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. I wasn’t four years old. I wasn’t even a child.

It was me. The old me. Sievert.

I looked down at myself properly then. The worn hoodie, the faded jeans, the way my legs stretched comfortably beneath the table. My body felt heavier, grounded, like it belonged somewhere specific. Not borrowed and not rebuilt. My heart began to beat a little faster as the realization settled in, each breath coming sharper than the last.

The cheap table. The faint hum of a ceiling fan above. The distant noise of traffic bleeding in through an open window. Even the way the light pooled unevenly across the floor, it all clicked into place with an ache I hadn’t been prepared for. I swallowed, the last trace of ramen lingering on my tongue, and slowly lifted my head. 

My gaze landed on the TV, a show was playing on its screen, with some politicians on a news channel. The volume was low, just enough for their voices to blur together into background noise, familiar and dull in the way only late-night broadcasts could be. One of them gestured sharply as he spoke, his words clipped and rehearsed, while the ticker at the bottom of the screen crawled by with headlines I didn’t bother reading.

I leaned back in my chair, half-listening as I twirled the chopsticks between my fingers. The rhythm of it all felt oddly comforting, the predictable back-and-forth, the forced smiles, the way nothing ever really changed, no matter how heated the discussion became. It was the kind of thing you watched without watching, something to fill the silence rather than break it.

The anchor cut in briefly, the screen shifting to a wider shot of the studio. The lighting was harsh, almost sterile, reflecting off polished desks and pressed suits.

The voices hadn’t stopped, but something about them felt… distant. Like they were coming from farther away than they should have been. The room seemed quieter despite the noise, the hum of the fan overhead fading into the background as my attention stayed fixed on the broadcast, waiting—without knowing why—for something to change.

After a few seconds, the screen flickered.

The debate vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar anchor speaking English instead of Korean. His voice cut through the room.

“—We interrupt all scheduled programming for breaking news.” The camera blurred slightly as it focused on the anchor before stabilizing. The anchor’s composure was already slipping; his breathing was uneven, his eyes darting briefly off-screen before locking forward again.

“This is not a drill,” he said, “Reports are coming in from northern Pakistan. A massive unidentified phenomenon has appeared above the Nangaparbat region.”

The broadcast shifted to grainy, unstable aerial footage, clearly not meant for public viewing. The sky above the mountains was wrong. A vast purple mass churned where clouds should have been, swirling in on itself like a living nebula, light bending unnaturally along its edges.

“It descended without warning,” the anchor continued, his voice tightening. “Eyewitnesses describe it as consuming the air itself. Entire mountain ridges have… disappeared.”

I froze, chopsticks hovering midair.

“The Pakistani government has declared a state of emergency. Communications from the region are failing, and—” He paused, swallowing hard. “—and there are unconfirmed reports of similar manifestations appearing elsewhere.”

The footage cut out. For a moment, the screen was nothing but static. Then the purple light bled through it. 

It swallowed everything. Darkness closed in. My eyes snapped open, breath coming in short, uneven pulls. I looked down at myself, small hands, familiar weight, the body I knew. Kairon. I exhaled a sigh of relief. It was just a dream…no, a memory.