Change

"I'm fine, Wraith."

"I'm really fine."

"No, no, I'm fine, so you don't need to carry me while jumping across buildings. My body is perfectly okay."

In the cold night, Kael Lohars sighed helplessly at Wraith for the first time. The latter was stubbornly standing on the edge of the Silver-Winged Corpse family spire, reaching out a hand toward him.

This pose had been held for three minutes.

It was already obvious what he wanted to do.

"I'm really fine," Kael repeated once more. "I'm very healthy, there are no issues at all."

"You didn't even have a heartbeat or breath ten minutes ago."

Wraith grumbled. "That voice said something about dying again, something about a devil... you must be feeling just as much pain as before."

"I do not feel pain."

"Really?"

"I have never lied to you."

Hearing this, Wraith immediately frowned and retorted loudly: "You didn't lie to me, but you didn't tell me anything either! You sent me to clear the sentry posts while you ran off here yourself!"

"..."

Kael rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the edge of the spire. The night was still long; he was willing, and indeed needed, to spend ten minutes resolving this before going to handle the final matter with Wraith.

"Alright, Wraith, let's start from the beginning. Are you going to stand there and listen to me finish, or will you be polite and have a conversation with me?"

Wraith pursed his lips, walked over, and crouched down beside Kael, though even then, he was still significantly taller than the former.

"First, I want to apologize to you," Kael said. "I'm sorry for not telling you what I was going to do, Wraith."

Wraith didn't speak, only nodded, his expression blank, but Kael could read his emotions.

It was a clear, obvious dissatisfaction.

"Secondly, how did that voice make contact with you?" Kael asked calmly.

Wraith blinked, taking five minutes to describe how he had been feeling restless when he saw the visions, and how he heard the voice when he saw Kael's corpse.

He spoke simply; although his description was blunt, it was clear enough, missing no details, including how he felt at the time.

Kael pursed his lips.

"...So, you saw a future where I died?"

"No! You didn't die in that vision!"

Wraith's eyes widened. "But I saw you drowned in so much blood! You were floating in it! Nostramo was also ignited by fire that looked like blood!"

Blood.

Kael narrowed his eyes, noting this down silently, then brought up another point: "That voice referred to you as Konrad Curze?"

Wraith nodded slightly. "Yes, I even asked him who that was, and he said it was me."

It seems to be the same person, Kael thought.

But one must remain vigilant; after all, they called him Prometheus and, my body. What was that about?

Kael lowered his head and clenched his right fist. A sense of abundant power flowed through his body; this feeling was different from the sensation he had when he first accepted his power.

If he had to describe it, it was somewhat like the warmth of the sun. Kael didn't know if this was a good thing, so he decided to observe for a while before considering whether to continue using it.

"Did he say anything else?" Kael asked again.

"He also said you would be in a lot of pain," Wraith answered quickly, then pointed to the top of the high-rise across from the spire and reached out his left hand toward Kael.

"...I am not in pain," Kael said powerlessly. "My body is really fine, Wraith."

"Really?"

"Of course it's real, I didn't lie—alright, perhaps I lied to you once, I apologize, okay? I'm sorry."

"Alright, I believe you, Kael. Oh, he also said you would pass through the veil," Wraith nodded, continuing with satisfaction.

Kael frowned sharply.

He didn't understand what this Prometheus was thinking, why he would tell Wraith even this? Although he claimed to be Wraith's father, but...

Kael glanced at Wraith.

The latter was staring at him with wide eyes, his complexion pale and his eyes pitch-black, looking completely different from the dark-skinned man who stood on the grasslands.

He doesn't look like him at all, he thought.

Forget it, regardless—

"Anything else?" Kael asked.

"He also said he would come over with my brothers."

Wraith brushed the hair scattered across his forehead with a puzzled expression.

"Who exactly is he? And what's the deal with my brothers? Do you think my brothers look like me, Karyl?"

How would I know? I didn't even know you had brothers; I thought you were... Sigh.

"Perhaps," Karyl said, keeping his composure. "As for who he is, he is likely your father."

Wraith's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Father?!" Wraith shouted, eyes wide. "Mine?! Didn't I come out of a laboratory?!"

"..."

Karyl forced himself to suppress the urge to sigh; he didn't want such a slightly negative attitude to affect Wraith's mood. After all, the feeling of suddenly learning you have a father and brothers you've never met must be quite shocking.

Besides, that "laboratory" theory was something he had told Wraith himself.

He began to analyze further.

"So, based on the current situation, you have brothers and a father—which means you might have a family, Wraith. No, wait—Konrad Curze."

Karyl frowned as he analyzed: "It's just..."

"Just what, Karyl?"

It's just that I don't quite understand by what means he became your father, Karyl thought. Although he wore a suit of blinding golden armor and could trade blows with those things, his body proportions at least appeared to be within a normal range.

And you—the difference between you and a human is far too vast. You're already over three meters tall at a year and a half old.

"It's nothing, Konrad," Karyl said. "Also, I will call you by that name from now on."

"I don't like that name," Wraith shook his head repeatedly. "It's such a mouthful."

"...Your father gave you that name."

"Didn't you say he should be? 'Should' implies he might be, or he might not be, right?"

Wraith tilted his head. "If he isn't, then why should I accept this name?"

"...How about this."

Karyl couldn't help but chuckle. "After he arrives, we'll figure out whether he is truly your father before deciding if you want to accept the name. Does that sound okay?"

Wraith nodded, his expression finally becoming satisfied.

"So, anything else?" Karyl asked. "Did he say anything else?"

"No." Wraith shook his head, looking a bit dazed. "He said I had seen my brothers in a vision. But I don't remember."

"Your brothers... Let's talk about that later. I hope they aren't too difficult to get along with."

"Why would you think that? You haven't even met them," Wraith asked, confused.

Because if they are all as superhuman as you, then I'm afraid your brothers will all have some psychological issues to some degree.

This is inevitable. Even geniuses are mostly eccentric, let alone a group of true supermen.

Furthermore, a mentally unstable person might turn into a sociopath after years of misery, shifting from hurting themselves to hurting others. If there is someone like that among your brothers...

Tsk.

Also, that Prometheus—what kind of person is he to have the ability to create so many supermen?

"Because I'm a pessimist," Karyl said. "I'm used to viewing everything from a pessimistic perspective."

Wraith blinked: "That doesn't seem very good, Karyl. You're so negative."

"..."

Karyl stood up, feeling annoyed, truly not knowing how to respond to Wraith's comment.

He immediately changed the subject: "Alright, small talk is over, and the problem is solved—is there anything else you want to ask me, Wraith?"

"..."

"Wraith?"

"Yes," Wraith said, pursing his lips. "Karyl, can you not do that again in the future?"

Karyl was suddenly stunned.

And Wraith continued.

"I don't like pain, so you shouldn't like it either. Nobody likes pain, right?" Wraith said, head bowed.

He was clearly much taller than Karyl, yet now he looked like a helpless child.

"That voice... my supposed father, he said the pain a wraith faces upon resurrection is no less than dying all over again. Can you please not die?"

But, everyone must die eventually, Wraith.

Karyl smiled silently.

People always die; the meaning of death lies in putting a period at the end of life. If there were no death, what meaning would life have?

The only difference is the manner of death. Being murdered or oppressed to death is a different matter entirely from a peaceful rest.

Why am I thinking about these things?

The silent chuckle gradually transformed, turning into a joyous, unrestrained burst of laughter. It was the first time he had laughed so happily on Nostramo, and Wraith looked up at him, puzzled.

"What's wrong with you, Karyl?"

"Nothing, Wraith," Karyl said.

"However, I cannot guarantee that I won't die; no one can make such a guarantee. Human life has its limits. But I can try my best to stay alive. How does that sound to you?"

Wraith pondered for a moment, then nodded heavily.

"Very well, then, let's go—once we finish with the last family, we can rest for a while and wait to see how things develop. By the way, he is not your 'supposed' father."

Karyl turned his head and said with a serious expression, "If you want to express your uncertainty about his identity, you should use the phrase 'my possible father' to describe it, understand?"

"Oh. So, he is my possible father?"

"If you want to put it that way, the sentence structure needs to change. In the Nostramo language, it would be 'he might be my father'."

Wraith nodded obediently, and together with Karyl, he leaped off the eerie spire.

Above them, the night stared down in silence.