Ivel had spent a week in the church—crying, eating, and doing all the normal baby things. Yet, even with the blood washed from his tiny features, he seemed different. Soft black hair framed his face, and his autumn-colored eyes held an endless, curious gaze toward the world around him. Whether his appearance would change further depended on how his body adapted to form a nexus—a process that could be either a blessing or a curse. If he did not change, he would resemble his parents without the blood, though he would most likely never remember them.
It was still too early to tell what fate awaited the boy. One thing was certain: Ivel needed to be adopted. The church had asked around, but no one from the usual congregation stepped forward. Weeks passed with no luck.
Then one day, a man came to see the boy. He was inspecting Ivel closely, standing amidst the infant's core forming. One of the caretakers hesitated, "Uh, Ascended Leom, are you sure you want to adopt this boy?"
Leom chuckled softly. "Well, my daughters have been asking for a brother anyway." He scratched his head, a little embarrassed by both his daughters' request and his decision to adopt the boy.
The caretaker frowned. "You make a good point—it's certainly easier to just adopt him. But you never know if the boy is cursed. His parents both died at sea, right after he was born. Gods only know how dangerous it could be having him around."
Leom's smile faltered, turning grim. Being cursed didn't mean a simple flaw—it meant having too much power from one's adaptation, a power difficult to control and potentially dangerous to others. That was why the caretaker was concerned.
With a serious tone, Leom replied, "I assure you, even if the boy is cursed, I'm confident I can control him." He wasn't confident for nothing—Leom was Ascended, and the power gap between a Genesis and an Ascended was vast.
The caretaker sighed. "Well, alright. We've been struggling to find someone willing to adopt him for weeks, especially after people heard his story."
Ivel was both popular and infamous from birth. The townsfolk whispered tales of the blood-covered child who arrived like a devil spawn, or "the cursed one." Still, Leom took him in.
Leom was nothing short of a hero in the town—handsome and tall, with bluish hair from his own core forming and warm brown eyes. Kindhearted, selfless, and amiable, he was the kind of man children looked up to. He had two daughters, Aniya and Elia, twins with blonde hair and green eyes, bearing most of their mother's features. Sadly, Leom's wife had passed away in a monster attack five years ago, but he remained a pillar of strength and respect.
When Leom heard of the boy's tragic beginning, he couldn't bear to do nothing. Gently, he carried the infant, drawing curious and bewildered looks from others. Some whispered that Leom had "gone crazy," but most admired his courage for taking in a child branded as a devil spawn by the villagers.
Leom brought Ivel home, where his daughters greeted the baby with wide eyes. Aniya asked, "Father, why are you carrying that baby?"
Leom chuckled. "Well girls, this is your new brother. His name is Ivel. Please be nice to him."
The twins exchanged shocked looks, then grins of delight. Finally, they had a brother to care for—or pick on. No one could guess what those two were thinking, not even Leom.
Even while training his daughters in combat, they always seemed unpredictable—likely a result of the unique qualities their adaptations had given them. Surprisingly, the twins took an immediate liking to the infant.
"Dad, can I carry him, pleaseee?" Aniya's plea nearly shook the whole house.
Leom laughed wholeheartedly. "Sure, sure. Just don't drop him."
Aniya carefully held the boy while Elia gently caressed his soft hair. Elia squealed, "His hair is so soft!"
Aniya scoffed. "No fair! I wanted to touch his hair too!"
The two began bickering over who got to do what first. Leom watched them in disbelief, his expression softening into a smile. He liked the new dynamic this family would face together.