The mist around the Tree of Life seemed to freeze as Techyon stood up, his voice trembling not from weakness, but from a sudden, overwhelming realization.
"Wait," Techyon whispered, looking at the Arcon of Life. "If Mayanee was the strongest of her era... then what was my father? Every story I've heard, every whisper in the shadows... they all said he was the strongest."
The Arcon of Life sighed, a sound that carried the weight of eons. She looked at Techyon's eyes—eyes that mirrored a man she once knew.
"You truly want to know about your family?" she asked softly. "Very well. The time for secrets ended the moment Gudmaro took his first breath of our air."
She stepped closer, her aura glowing with a warm, golden light. "Your father was not just an Arcon. He was the Strongest Arcon in all of History. People didn't just fear him; they relied on him. He was the Arcon of Hope."
Techyon gasped. The name Hope felt like a physical weight on his shoulders.
"And your mother..." the Arcon continued, a small smile appearing on her lips. "She is the Electro Arcon. She is the younger sister of Mayanee herself. You carry the physical dominance of the 'Strongest Arcon's' sister and the limitless power of the 'Arcon of Hope.'"
Techyon looked at his hands. The blue-and-red lightning he manifested wasn't just a power—it was a legacy. He wasn't just a kid from a village; he was the bridge between the two greatest powers the Multiverse had ever seen.
"But if they were that strong," Techyon asked, a dark thought crossing his mind, "where are they now? Why did they leave me?"
"They didn't leave you alone, Techyon," the Arcon of Life said, her voice heavy with the grief of centuries.
Techyon's aura flickered aggressively. "Then why? Why did I grow up in the dirt? Why was I alone? My mother, my father, even my sister... everyone just walked away!"
"Your mother didn't walk away," the Arcon replied softly. "She died. She gave every drop of her Electro-mana to shield you and your elder sister against the Monarch of Destruction. She bought your lives with hers."
Techyon felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "And my father? You said he was the strongest in history! How could the strongest man ever just... vanish?"
"He wasn't home when the Monarch struck," she explained. "But your father... he died because of the Curse."
"Curse?" Techyon roared, lightning sparking from his eyes. "What curse could possibly kill the strongest man in history?!"
"The curse," the Arcon of Life said, looking him dead in the eye, "is that your father was a Pure Type."
Techyon froze. "Pure Type? What is that?"
Alya stepped forward, her eyes wide with shock. "Techyon... you don't know what a Pure Type is?"
"A Pure Type means you are the absolute peak of that element," Yoru added, her voice uncharacteristically solemn. "The strongest in that type."
"It's more than that," Neweland corrected. "A Pure Type is the strongest in the history of that element. A singular existence."
"Then how did that kill him?" Techyon demanded.
"Because perfection has a price," the Arcon of Life whispered. "If you become a Pure Type, your lifeforce is consumed by your own power. Most Pure Types only live 50 to 60 years. But the Light Clan... the Light Type is different. A Pure Light Type only lives for 30 years. Your father was the strongest Light user to ever exist. He was so powerful that even the Monarch of Destruction—the being feared by Gods, Arcons, and every other Monarch—shook with fear at the mention of his name."
Techyon stood in silence. His father hadn't abandoned him. He had simply run out of time.
"To become a Pure Type, Techyon," the Arcon of Life said, her voice echoing with ancient authority, "you must surpass the strongest who ever existed in that element. That means until your light outshines your father's, the curse will not claim you. You are safe... for now."
Techyon took a deep breath, the weight of his lineage settling into his bones. "And my sister? Where is she? What happened to her?"
"Your sister..." the Arcon leaned back, a nostalgic light in her eyes. "Do you still remember her name?"
"I could never forget it," Techyon whispered. "Cynthia."
The Arcon of Life nodded. "Cynthia. The strongest adventurer on Earth. The one and only Z+ Rank human in existence."
Yoru nearly dropped her earrings. "Wait... what?! You mean the woman the entire world calls the Goddess of Flame is actually Techyon's sister?"
"Yes," the Arcon replied. "She carries the fire of her bloodline, tempered by the grief of losing her parents."
Techyon's heart hammered against his ribs. "If she is the strongest... why didn't she find me? Is she... is she also dead?"
"No," the Arcon of Life said, looking toward the shimmering horizon of the Northern Abyss. "She is very much alive. And she is currently in Netland."
[Scene Shift: Netland - The Scarlet Pavilion]
In a city of high-tech neon and floating data streams, there was a quiet tea house that overlooked the digital waterfalls.
A woman sat alone at a mahogany table. Her hair was a cascading waterfall of crimson red, glowing like embers in the twilight. She didn't look like a warrior; she looked like a calm before a solar flare.
She lifted a porcelain cup to her lips, the steam curling around her sharp, focused eyes. As she took a sip, a notification flickered on her personal device—a Code Red alert from the Northern Abyss.
[WARNING: GUDMARO DETECTED. ALL RANKERS EVACUATE.]
She didn't flinch. She set the cup down slowly, her fingers grazing the hilt of a blade leaning against the table. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"So," she murmured, her voice like the crackle of a forest fire. "The virus is finally out of its cage. I wonder if my little brother is ready to play."