The acrid smell of burnt sugar and magic still lingers in the air as I stare at Lucil, my mind reeling from the information she’s just shared. My hand trembles as I cover my mouth, trying to process the magnitude of this revelation. In all my years of studying magic, ornaments, and the intricacies of the Absolute, nothing could have prepared me for this.

“Are you… are you absolutely sure?” I manage to whisper, searching Lucil’s face for any sign of doubt or jest. But her usually mischievous expression is uncharacteristically solemn, her wild hair seeming to droop under the weight of her words.

Lucil nods grimly, her fingers nervously fiddling with a vial on her workbench. “This is what allows them to become an Absolute Resonator instead of just a regular Holder.”

I lean back in my chair, the room suddenly spinning. My hands move to my temples, massaging them as a dull ache begins to throb behind my eyes. The Implications of this… they’re staggering. “When?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “When did you discover this?”

Lucil’s gaze drifts to a far corner of her cluttered laboratory, lost in recollection. “It was four years ago,” she says softly, absently twirling a lock of her unkempt hair. ”Remember when you asked me to create that cat as your physical medium? The one that lets you transfer your consciousness between worlds?”

I nod, recalling the intricate spell work involved in that project. Lucil continues, “That’s when I first noticed. After I created that cat, random thought crossed my mind. What would happen if pure magic circuit was planted? After I run some tests, I realized that…”

Her voice trails off, and for a moment, the only sound in the room is the quiet bubbling of a forgotten potion in the corner. Then Lucil’s eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of curiosity and concern in her gaze. "So, what are you going to do, Saria? Are you going to tell him?”

The question hangs In the air, heavy with implications. I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. Aruta’s face flashes in my mind – his kind eyes, his determined expression when facing challenges. He rarely speaks of his past, a fact that had never seemed significant until now. Could Lucil be right? The pieces fit together with a terrible, perfect logic that makes my stomach churn.

But if it’s true… what then? The potential consequences unfold in my mind like a horrifying tapestry. I can almost see Aruta’s face contorted in anguish as he grapples with this truth about himself. And Noarin… sweet, fiery Noarin. What would this mean for their relationship?

My eyes snap open as a chilling thought crosses my mind. How would Noarin react to learning that the man she loves, is not... is not...

I can’t even bring myself to complete the thought. The words stick in my throat, too terrible to voice aloud. My gaze meets Lucil’s, and I see my own fear and uncertainty reflected in her eyes.

“I… I don’t know,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “This changes everything, Lucil. And yet… and yet it changes nothing. He’s still Aruta. Still the same person who’s fighting to protect both our worlds.”

Lucil nods slowly, understanding the weight of my words. “But he doesn’t know,” she says softly. “He doesn’t know that he’s-“

“No,” I cut her off, not ready to hear it spoken aloud. “No, he doesn’t. And for now… for now, perhaps it’s better that way.”

As I sit there, the weight of this secret pressing down on me, I can’t help but wonder: in trying to protect Aruta, am I making the right choice? Or am I setting the stage for an even greater heartbreak down the line?

The answers elude me, lost in a swirling vortex of what-ifs and maybes. All I know is that nothing will ever be the same again.

----------------------------------------

Time seemed to stand still as I stared at Spica, her tiny form somehow withstanding the lion’s massive paw. The earthen dome she had created shimmered with an otherworldly energy, a perfect replica of Lyra’s power. My mind raced, trying to comprehend what I was seeing. How could Spica, our mysterious little girl, possess such an ability?

But there was no time to dwell on it. The lion, momentarily confused by this unexpected resistance, reared back with a deafening roar. I shook off my shock, knowing we had to seize this opportunity.

“Everyone, now’s our chance!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. “Kai, can you still manipulate its mass?”

Kai nodded grimly, sweat beading on his forehead as he focused his power. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got!”

I could see the strain on his face as he battled against the Ornament’s influence. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the lion’s movements became less earth-shaking. It was working!

“Noarin, Darius!” I called out. “Fire tornado, like before. Rishia, be ready with water to contain it!”

Understanding flashed in their eyes. Noarin’s flames roared to life, encircling the lion, while Darius’s winds whipped them into a frenzy. The fire tornado grew, lifting the now-lighter lion off its feet. Rishia stood ready, her hands raised as she gathered a massive amount of water from nearby hydrants and fountains.

I turned to Lyra, who was now free from the debris thanks to Spica’s intervention. “Can you create a sinkhole beneath it? We need to bring it down and keep it contained!”

Lyra nodded, her face set in determination despite her obvious pain. The ground beneath the lion began to crumble and sink, creating a massive pit.

As for me, I knew what I had to do. Concentrating harder than I ever had before, I reached out with my power, trying to resonate not just with one, but with all of my teammates’ abilities simultaneously. It was like trying to listen to five different songs at once, each with its own rhythm and melody. But somehow, incredibly, I managed to find the harmony between them.

Light burst from my body, infusing each of my teammates’ powers with extra strength. Kai’s gravity manipulation intensified, making the lion almost weightless. Noarin and Darius’s fire tornado blazed even brighter, the winds howling with increased ferocity. Rishia’s water surged forward with impossible force, while Lyra’s earthen pit deepened and widened.

The combined assault was too much for the giant beast. With a final, earth-shaking roar, it crashed down into the sinkhole. Rishia’s water rushed in, dousing the flames and filling the pit. As the steam cleared, we could see the lion, now back to its normal size, unconscious and floating in the impromptu pool.

For a moment, we all stood in stunned silence, barely believing what we’d just accomplished. Then, as if a spell had been broken, we erupted into cheers and laughter, the relief and adrenaline overwhelming us.

I rushed to Spica, scooping her up in my arms. “You amazing, incredible girl,” I whispered, holding her tight. “How did you do that?”

Spica just smiled up at me, her eyes twinkling with a wisdom far beyond her years. “I just wanted to help, Papa,” she said simply.

As the initial euphoria of our victory faded, the weight of what had just happened began to settle in. ADF agents swarmed the area, securing the unconscious lion and beginning cleanup operations. Paramedics arrived to tend to the injured, with Lyra being among the first to receive attention.

Keller approached us, his usually stoic face showing a mix of relief and concern. “Good work, all of you,” he said. “But I think we have a lot to discuss. Let’s regroup at headquarters once the medics clear you.”

----------------------------------------

An hour later, after being checked over by the medical team and helping with some of the immediate cleanup, we found ourselves back in the ADF's conference room. The atmosphere was tense, a strange mix of triumph and unease.

Keller stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over each of us before landing on Spica, who sat contentedly in Noarin’s lap. “I think,” he began slowly, “that we need to address the elephant – or should I say, the lion – in the room.”

“You mean how Spica somehow used Lyra’s power?” Kai asked, leaning forward. “Because yeah, I’d really like an explanation for that.”

All eyes turned to Spica, who seemed unperturbed by the attention. I felt a surge of protectiveness. “She’s just a child,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “She probably doesn’t understand what happened any more than we do.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Noarin nodded, her arms tightening slightly around Spica. “Aruta’s right. We can’t expect her to explain something she might not even comprehend.”

“Be that as it may,” Keller interjected, “we can’t ignore what happened out there. A child with the ability to mimic Holder powers… it’s unprecedented.”

Rishia, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up. “It’s more than that, isn’t it? She didn’t just mimic Lyra’s power. She amplified it. That shield she created was stronger than anything I’ve seen Lyra produce.”

Lyra nodded in agreement, wincing slightly as she adjusted her bandaged arm. “It was like… like my power, but cranked up to eleven. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“It sounds similar to what Aruta can do,” Darius mused, his eyes narrowing in thought. “The resonance, the amplification…”

I felt a chill run down my spine. Darius was right – Spica’s ability did seem eerily similar to my own. But how was that possible?

“We’re missing the bigger picture here,” Kai interjected. “Sure, Spica’s ability is fascinating and all, but what about the giant lion? Who was controlling it, and why? And how did they make it so big in the first place?”

Keller nodded grimly. “We’re working on tracking down the Holder responsible. Preliminary reports suggest it might be the work of a group calling themselves the ‘Chaos Bringers’. They seem to be Holders who believe that the world isn’t ready for the existence of supernatural abilities, and are trying to cause panic and destruction to prove their point.”

“That’s insane,” Noarin said, shaking her head. “How does causing chaos prove anything except that they’re dangerous?”

“Fear makes people do irrational things,” I murmured, remembering some of the darker moments in our fight against Belzad. “But you’re right, it doesn’t justify their actions.”

“So what’s our next move?” Lyra asked, looking around the table. “We can’t just wait for them to strike again.”

Keller’s expression hardened. “We go on the offensive. We’ll increase patrols, work with local law enforcement to gather intelligence, and prepare for any future attacks. But we’ll need all of you at the top of your game.”

As the others began discussing strategies and training regimens, I found my gaze drawn back to Spica. She met my eyes, and for a moment, I saw something there – a depth, an understanding that seemed impossible for a child her age. It both thrilled and terrified me.

What are you? I wondered, not for the first time. And what does your existence mean for all of us?

The tense atmosphere in the conference room is suddenly shattered by a familiar flash of light. Saria materializes on the conference table, her small feline form a stark contrast to the gravity of our discussion. Her sudden appearance startles us all, pulling me abruptly from my swirling thoughts about Spica and the recent battle.

“Have you forgotten me?” Saria’s voice held a hint of playful indignation, though I could sense an underlying tension. Her choice to appear on the table rather than her usual perch on Noarin’s shoulder didn’t escape my notice. Something was off.

Keller, ever the professional, quickly brought Saria up to speed. “We’ve had a… situation,” he began, his voice grave. “A massive lion, skyscraper-sized, rampaged through the city. It was controlled by what we believe to be a new group of rogue Holders calling themselves the ‘Chaos Bringers’. They seem intent on sowing fear and destruction to prove some twisted point about the dangers of supernatural abilities.”

Saria’s tail twitched, a sign I’d come to recognize as concern. “I see. And I assume you managed to subdue this threat?”

“Yeah, barely,” Kai chimed in, his usual sarcasm tinged with exhaustion. “Just another day of nearly getting flattened while saving the city. But that’s not even the most interesting part.”

Saria tilted her tiny head, ears pricked forward in curiosity. “Oh? What could be more interesting than a colossal feline wreaking havoc?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “It’s Spica,” I said, watching Saria carefully. “She… she can resonate with others’ powers. She used Lyra’s ability to save her, amplified it even. She’s an Absolute Resonator, just like me.”

What happens next sends a chill down my spine. Saria’s reaction is… off. Her surprise seems genuine, her eyes widening and her fur standing slightly on end. But there’s something else there – a flicker of recognition, perhaps? It’s as if she’s encountering a possibility she had considered but hoped wasn’t true.

“Is that so…” Saria’s voice is barely above a whisper. Her face contorts in a way I’ve never seen before, a mix of fear, sadness, and something I can’t quite place. It’s unsettling to see such complex emotions on her usually composed features.

I lean forward, my brow furrowing. “Do you know something…?” The question comes out more accusatory than I intended, but the sudden tension in the room is palpable.

A heavy silence descends upon us. I can feel the others exchanging glances, the air thick with unasked questions. But my focus remains on Saria. She stands motionless on the table, her usual grace replaced by an unnatural stillness. Even her tail, typically so expressive, hangs limp and unmoving.

The seconds stretch into an eternity before Saria finally speaks, her voice small and fragile. “I’m… sorry,” she begins, each word seemingly a struggle. “I know the last time I hid something from you, it didn’t end well. But this time…” She pauses, swallowing hard. “I’m not ready to tell you something I just found out.”

“What…?” Noarin’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt. Saria flinches at the sound, turning away as if unable to bear the weight of Noarin’s gaze.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions brewing inside me. “Can you tell us why?” I ask, striving for a gentler tone.

Saria remains silent, but I notice her tiny body trembling slightly. A pang of guilt hits me – have I pushed too hard? The last thing I want is to cause her more distress.

Suddenly, Spica slides down from Noarin’s lap. With a grace that belies her young age, she approaches Saria. “Saria…?” Her small hand reaches out, gently stroking the cat’s fur. The look she gives Saria is one of pure compassion, wise beyond her years.

Saria takes a shuddering breath, her form seeming to shrink under the weight of whatever secret she’s carrying. Finally, she turns to me, her purple eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m afraid my discoveries will tear everyone apart.”

The implications of her words hang heavy in the air. We all exchange glances, a mix of concern, curiosity, and apprehension on every face. What could Saria have possibly discovered that would have such dire consequences?

Noarin is the first to move. She rises from her seat, her movements deliberate and calm despite the tension in the room. As she approaches Saria, her face softens with a warmth that never fails to amaze me. She gently scoops Saria into her arms, cradling her close. “We won’t,” Noarin says, her voice firm but kind. “Whatever you find, I’ll embrace it. Nothing can break our bond.”

I nod emphatically, feeling a swell of pride and love for Noarin’s unwavering support. Around the table, the others follow suit, a chorus of affirmations and reassuring nods.

Saria’s rigid posture begins to relax, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The relief on her face is palpable, as if a great weight has been lifted from her tiny shoulders.

“All right then,” Saria says finally, her voice steadier now. She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as much as her feline form allows. “I’ll tell you what I found.”

As Saria prepared to reveal her discovery, I felt a mix of anticipation and dread. Part of me was eager to uncover this new piece of the puzzle, to understand more about Spica’s abilities and perhaps my own. But another part feared what this knowledge might bring. Saria’s earlier words echoed in my mind: “tear everyone apart.”

“Aruta,” Saria begins, her voice barely above a whisper. The room falls into an eerie silence, the tension palpable. “First of all, I have to ask you something about your past.”

I nod, my throat suddenly dry. “Go ahead.”

“When did you get your ornament?” Saria’s purple eyes bore into mine, searching.

“When I was about 6 years old,” I reply, a faint memory flickering at the edges of my mind.

“Do you have any memories before that?” Her tail twitches nervously.

“I do…?” I answer, confusion creeping into my voice. Something feels off, like trying to recall a dream that slips further away the more you grasp at it.

Everyone in the room listens intently to our exchange, the air thick with anticipation. Noarin’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently. Spica’s gaze darts between our somber faces, her young features etched with concern beyond her years.

Saria pauses, her tiny form seeming to shrink even further. “Do you know who your parents are?”

“I…” The word sticks in my throat, choking me. A cold realization washes over me, leaving me numb.

I don’t know…

Saria’s eyes soften with sympathy. “What does the Kuroyuki family mean to you?”

I cover my mouth, my mind reeling. “They are… the ones who take care of me since I was a child…” The words sound hollow, rehearsed.

Saria nods, her expression grave. “Last question…” She looks at me deeply, her gaze seeming to pierce through to my very soul. “When is the most distant memory you can remember?”

Silence descends, heavy and suffocating. I close my eyes, desperately reaching back through the corridors of my mind. High school, starting to live on my own, moving to the city, middle school, elementary school, kindergarten… But beyond that, a haze, a void where memories should be.

I look at Spica, and she gives me an innocent smile. Suddenly, a fragment of memory flashes through my mind, vivid and disorienting:

“What should we call him? He doesn’t seem to know his name…”

“Just think of a new name.”

“Hmmmmm…”

I see a man with black hair, his face frustratingly blurred. Next to him stands a woman with long black hair braided at the sides, her features equally indistinct.

image [https://i.imgur.com/CAOn3nJ.jpeg]

“How about a Sanskrit word?”

“Do you have an idea?”

The woman nods, stroking my hair with a gentleness that feels both familiar and alien.

“Aruta.”

I gasp, coming back to the present. Everyone is staring at me, concern etched on their faces. I’m trembling, the weight of this revelation threatening to crush me.

“Got your answer?” Saria asks softly. I nod, unable to speak.

“It’s when I was 4 years old…” I finally manage, my voice barely audible. “The time I got my name…”

Saria’s gaze is long and penetrating. Her face tells me she already knew my answer but had desperately hoped to be wrong. She takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I think you have understood now. Spica and you are alike. That’s what makes you both an Absolute Resonator.”

She pauses, visibly struggling with what comes next. Noarin reaches out, gently stroking Saria’s fur. Spica places her small hand on Saria’s back, her touch seeming to lend strength.

“Now I need you to hear me,” Saria continues, her voice trembling. “But please… don’t start losing yourself.”

I swallow hard, bracing myself for what’s to come. The room seems to shrink around us, the others fading into the background as Saria’s words become my entire world.

Saria stares deep into my eyes, our gazes locked in an unbreakable bond. When she speaks, her words carry the weight of a terrible truth.

“Absolute Resonators are different from other living beings. In their soul, there’s a pure magic circuit, the source of all created magic…” She pauses, gathering courage for the final revelation.

“Aruta,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “you are not human.”