"Ilyana, Amon, it's time to head back inside!"
Piotr's voice carried across the snowy expanse, calling to the two children playing in the distance.
"Okay!" Amon shouted back, then seized the opportunity to launch a final, large snowball directly at Ilyana. "Hey, Ilyana, you definitely lost this time. Now you have to call me big brother."
The little girl scrambled to her feet, brushing a thick layer of snow from her winter clothes with an indignant huff.
"Hmph, I'm not playing anymore, it's time to go home," she declared, her cheeks flushed. "This round doesn't count. We'll have a rematch later!"
"Hehe, you say that every time," Amon teased with a grin.
Clearly unhappy, the little girl ignored Amon's remark and scurried toward Piotr. Amon quickly gave chase, his laughter echoing in the crisp air.
The three siblings returned to the farmhouse. The moment Amon stepped through the door, he sensed that the atmosphere inside was terribly wrong.
Nikolai sat rigidly on the sofa, his expression dazed and vacant, while Alexandra was nestled in his arms, her body wracked with quiet, gut-wrenching sobs.
Seeing the profound distress of his parents, Piotr asked with a growing sense of dread, "Father, what happened?"
He directed his question not to his mother, who was lost in her sorrow, but to his father, the man who had always been the unshakeable pillar of their family.
"Piotr," Nikolai began, his voice heavy and broken, "Mikhail... he died in the line of duty during a mission."
The reason hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Hearing these words, Peter froze for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief.
"How is that possible? My brother is so capable. How could he possibly have an accident?"
"This was sent by officials from the government."
Nikolai numbly handed Peter an envelope. Peter snatched it from his father's hand and tore it open, his eyes scanning the page frantically.
The letter fluttered from his grasp and fell to the floor. Peter's face was a mask of pure disbelief and horror.
"How could this be? I don't believe it... I refuse to believe it!" With a cry of anguish, Peter turned and bolted out the door, back into the unforgiving cold.
"Hey, Piotr, don't do something foolish!"
Nikolai lurched to his feet, intending to give chase. He glanced back at the two younger children. "Amon, Ilyana, please take care of your mother. I'm going to check on your brother."
With that, he too disappeared from the room, racing after Peter.
Amon bent down, picked up the discarded letter from the floor, and read it carefully.
The content of the letter, in summary, stated that Mikhail and his team were on a space mission when, for reasons still unknown, all contact was lost. The authorities had tried various methods to re-establish communication but were unsuccessful. They were left with no choice but to declare Mikhail and his entire team deceased. The letter offered no specific details about the circumstances, citing national secrecy.
Amon felt a tight grip on his arm. It was Ilyana, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him.
"Amon, is he really gone?"
"The government's letter only says they couldn't establish contact with him," Amon said softly, choosing his words with care. "It didn't explicitly state that he's gone. He might just be trapped somewhere, unable to reach the outside world."
"Really?" Ilyana wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, a sliver of hope in her voice.
"Really," Amon confirmed, trying to comfort her. "Our brother will be fine."
Their mother, who was nearby, obviously overheard Amon's words. Although she knew in her heart that what Amon described was an incredibly small possibility, as a mother, she had no choice but to cling to that last fragile hope. She came over to Amon and Ilyana, wrapping them in a desperate hug.
"Mikhail will be fine," she whispered, as much to herself as to them. "He will be fine!"
After storming out of the house, Piotr ran wildly, with no destination in mind. He just wanted to be alone, to get away from everyone and the crushing weight of his grief.
His older brother, Mikhail, had always been Piotr's idol. He had earned excellent grades since childhood, attended a military academy, joined the armed forces, and ultimately achieved the incredible feat of becoming a cosmonaut. For a very long time, Peter's own dream had been to follow in his brother's footsteps into space.
What Peter didn't realize was that as he ran, fueled by anguish, his body began to change. His frame continuously expanded, and a distinct metallic luster started to sheathe his skin. Slowly, he transformed into a towering figure of gleaming, silvery organic steel.
He stumbled to the withered tree where Amon had been leaning earlier, his mind screaming for a release. He drew back his fist to punch the trunk and vent his rage. With a single, powerful strike, a loud cracking boom echoed through the quiet landscape, and the large tree before him splintered and broke apart.
"What's wrong with me?" Piotr stared at his hands in a stupor, only to see metallic, iron-like fists reflected in his vision.
"Piotr? Piotr, is that you!" His father's shocked voice called out from behind him.
Peter was completely at a loss, his voice filled with confusion and fear. "Father, I... what's happening to me?"
Nikolai was deeply shocked by the sight, but he forced himself to remain calm for his son's sake.
"Piotr, let's go home first. Your appearance... it can't be seen by others. Can you change back?"
Nikolai knew about mutants. The term frequently appeared in the news and newspapers, often accompanied by stories of a man who could control metal. He never imagined that his own child would be one of them.
"I don't know," Piotr said blankly, staring at his transformed hands. "I can't seem to do it."
"Let's Go home quickly. Everything will be fine once we get home."
Nikolai struggled to pull Peter towards the farm. He was his child, and even if he had become a mutant, Nikolai would never abandon him.
As they were about to reach the farm, Nikolai felt the resistance lessen. He looked back and saw that his son had returned to his normal appearance. "Piotr, you're back to normal!"
Piotr raised his right hand and saw that it had returned to flesh and blood, no longer cold metal. "It seems so."
"It's good that you've recovered. Let's get home quickly. Don't let your mother worry any more than she already is. She just lost your brother; we can't let her suffer another shock."
"Mother..." Piotr remembered the haggard, grief-stricken look on his mother's face when he first entered the house.
"I won't let her worry," Piotr said with solemn conviction.
Amon had been comforting his sister and mother, but in his heart, he was already pondering how to investigate the matter of his older brother, Mikhail.
Although Mikhail was not Amon's biological brother, he had always been very good to him. Amon had met him three times in total. The first time was when Amon was one year old. After learning that Amon was adopted, Mikhail had even used his government connections to help search for Amon's biological relatives, though the search yielded nothing.
This was an inevitable outcome. Although Amon didn't understand the mechanics of his transmigration, he was certain that his physical body did not originate from this world. If he truly had blood relatives here, Amon's current abilities would have undoubtedly allowed him to find them. However, he had employed numerous methods—divination, scrying, and even peeking into the threads of fate—but had found no trace. This was enough to confirm that he was an anomaly, a being not of this place.
The second meeting was at age three, and the most recent time he saw his brother was just last year. He had brought many gifts for Amon and Ilyana and had spent time playing games with them. Although Amon considered himself a mature adult and felt it was strange to play children's games, he found that perhaps because his body was still that of a child, he still genuinely enjoyed playing those games with Ilyana.
Just as Amon was lost in these various thoughts, Nikolai returned with Piotr. Amon's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Piotr had changed significantly. He has awakened his abilities, Amon concluded silently.
The family sat together in the living room, a heavy silence blanketing them. Suddenly, Nikolai spoke, his voice firm.
"Tomorrow, I will go to the relevant government department to find out exactly what happened to Mikhail. A simple 'national secret' is not an acceptable answer."
"Father, I'll go with you," piotr immediately added.
Nikolai looked into his son's eyes, which now held a newfound determination. "Okay, you can come with me."
Nikolai had initially wanted to refuse. Piotr was now a mutant, and if his secret were exposed, it could lead to countless troubles. But the resolute gaze in his son's eyes moved him.
Their farm was over 300 kilometers from the nearest major city, Irkutsk. Nikolai owned a pickup truck, but a round trip would take at least twelve hours in good conditions. Given that it was currently winter, the journey would be far more perilous. The harshness of a Siberian winter was legendary. This trip would take at least three to four days, if not more, before they could return. Going together would at least provide some measure of support for one another on the difficult road ahead.