“They did what?” Tiberius asked incredulously.

“It was the summer solstice, exactly three years after Messiah revealed himself. They took Arcturus and they used his trust to betray him. The largest ritual in human history was enacted with Arcturus in the lead, and it changed the face of the world. It created metahumans, by creating a spell woven into the fabric of our species’ very connection to magic. The exact odds aren’t certain, but the result was an immediate wave of magical conversion from external to internal expression. Thousands of practitioners suddenly lost their direct connection to magic, and developed superhuman abilities instead.”

She looked at Malachi. “For many it was traumatic. For others, it was a means to fight back.”

The old man confirmed it with a grunt, shrugging. “The shock wore off. We adapted.”

“The spell had a second effect.” Vanessa continued while turning back to the boys. “It had a permanent altering influence on anyone with magical potential. In modern days, now, two out of every three children born with magical potential will not express that potential externally. Instead, they will become metahumans.”

“That’s…” Tiberius stared at his mother in stunned disbelief.

“That’s a form of genocide.” Lucien said right after Ty, his voice tight in his own ears. “It’s a form of race elimination.”

“At the time, boy, it was necessary.” Malachi growled. “It’s easy to look back and condemn your forebears now, but think about the reality. The Trumpets were effectively living gods. They couldn’t be fought, killed, stopped, or slowed down. Only their desire for power stopped them annihilating the entire planet.”

“But you said Olympus, er, Arcturus was tricked.” Tiberius cut in, looking at his mother. “That doesn’t sound like a betrayal.”

“No, he agreed to that part of their plan. What happened afterwards, however, he did not. Arcturus was weak after coordinating such overwhelming levels of magic. He reshaped our very species. It left him vulnerable, and that’s when the true betrayal happened.” She looked at Lucien as if in apology, though she continued speaking as if she felt compelled to get it out. “The Elders, with consent from all the adult members of their Orders, joined with the heads of smaller Covens and their consenting Orders to enact a massive ritual of empowerment — but of a different vein. Where the Six had stolen their powers, Arcturus’ powers were a gift.”

“And Arcturus was too weak to use his position as Grand Warlock to stop them.” Leonidas put in, breaking his considerable and immensely patient silence. “I knew your father, Lucien, as I said. He was a good man. A truly honourable soul. I assure you, if Arcturus had not been beyond exhausted, such a deception never would have succeeded.”

“So my Father’s Coven…?” Lucien asked, hoping he was wrong.

“Committed targeted ritual suicide.” Vanessa said with a trembling voice. “And not just them; multiple other smaller Covens as well. All for the singular and unified intention of creating a defender for a tormented world. As Malachi explained, magic has intention. The Six were twisted and demented by the echoes of intention left behind by their betrayed Covens, not so with Olympus. Two overriding intentions were threaded into the ritual that gave him his powers and made him the Primus: A desire to bring Justice to those slain or suffering because of the Trumpets, and a desire to defend the world and the vulnerable within it.”

“Woah.” Tiberius said aptly with his mouth slightly open.

“Which is also a significance of your birthmark, boy.” Malachi said gruffly. “It was the symbol of Arcturus’ bloodline, one that was renowned for its benevolence and the quality of its leadership among Practitioners. One eagle — thus, one bloodline — but two heads, or two sides of the same concept: Justice. One head for Judgement, one head for Mercy. Remember that.”

Lucien touched his chest where he knew his birthmark was beneath his shirt, and swallowed. The weight of what Malachi had revealed settled on him with a feeling of gravitas, and raised his anxiety to boot. It was a lot to live up to, and a lot to take in. His father seemed more and more mythical the more Lucien heard about him. It was surreal to think he was the son of such an incredible individual. The idea of it took his breath away.

“The rest of the story you essentially know.” Leonidas continued after a few moments of silence. “Olympus was born that day. His actions were definitely guided in part by the sheer power of those unified intentions, but also by his personal desire to see the sacrifice of his loved ones be proven right. Your father may have hated what they did, Lucien, but no one can deny they chose the right champion. He was the first true Superhero.”

“I… But hold on.” Lucien said, turning to Malachi. “You said you believed his power was ‘divine’. That wasn’t a blessing from God, it was just a really, really powerful piece of human magic!”

“What is Magic, boy, if not a gift from God?” Malachi growled back. “Further, what is a divine blessing if not the willing martyrdom of thousands of men and women for the dedicated purpose of saving their world?” Malachi snorted. “It doesn’t get any more divine than that, you putz.”

“Huh. He has you there, dude.” Tiberius said while glancing at Lucien.

“I… Yeah, okay.” Lucien muttered while running a hand through his hair. “But what I don’t understand is how this affects me. Sure, I guess I technically lost my place as the next Grand Warlock, but I don’t see what’s so bad about that. I can’t use magic anyway.”

“But that’s exactly the point, son.” Leonidas said, drawing everyone’s attention. “You didn’t lose your place. You are the Grand Warlock of your Coven.”

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“My… Uncle Leo, they’re all dead.”

“But their power isn’t. The power that you inherited from Arcturus—from Olympus. The power flowing through your veins, awakening more and more every day.”

“I can’t do magic.” Lucien objected.

“Internal and External, Lucien.” Leonidas said patiently. “What was given to Olympus didn’t die with Olympus. You didn’t just inherit his power, son, you inherited his power’s intention through your lineage as the next Grand Warlock.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Remember that strongwoman you planted in the asphalt?” Malachi asked in his usual, irreverent way. “That wasn’t just you needing counseling for anger issues, boy, that was your inherited magical intention. Justice. It just so happens that the magic amplified some intense emotions you already possessed.”

“So that’s why my powers manifested there?”

“Yes.” Vanessa confirmed, taking over. “What you did was still wrong, Lucien, but it wasn’t purely out of a lack of self-control. Magical intention is a powerful thing, and in your case it cannot be understated how powerful it is. You’re only experiencing a fraction of it now, but eventually your compulsion to correct injustice and protect the planet will be… Well, they’ll be extremely potent parts of your psyche.”

“What about Lucien himself, though?” Tiberius demanded, drawing a startled look from Lucien. “Will he just get… replaced? Can we stop it? We can’t just let this shit erase him!”

Sudden fear gripped him as he realized what it was Ty was talking about, but Malachi threw cold water on the sudden spike of hot terror running through him.

“Juvenile miscomprehension.” The old Israeli growled. “Intention is not personality. It simply informs development and motivation. Lucien already wants to correct injustice and protect people, he got that from his father, and your own parents boy. Intention only becomes dangerous if the bearer or influenced individuals actively try to resist it.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien asked. “Resist it in what manner?”

“The way I understand it,” Leonidas cut in, “is that intention is like a form of conscience. It’ll push or pull you in a certain direction, usually subtly. Small nudges and prods towards its focus. If you begin actively against these more gentle encouragements, that’s when it begins to build. Ignoring it is less immediately dangerous than directly opposing it, but both end the same way. Eventually.” He seemed almost guilty as he said it, looking from Malachi to Lucien. “The more powerful the intention, the faster and more uncomfortable the consequences.”

“So the original Trumpets…” Tiberius said with a growing look of horror.

“Were doomed to become psychotic, massively destructive monsters.” Leonidas confirmed. “No matter what they did, they sealed their fate the moment they enacted those rituals. It was further amplified by the fact they committed their crimes on unwilling victims, which likely made the suffering for going against the intention even worse.”

“Whereas Olympus’ intention was born of a genuine desire for justice and protection, and created through willing self-sacrifice.” Lucien said, half for himself as much as everyone else. “So his — my? — intention really is literally a kind of magical, active conscience nudging me towards justice.”

“Or at least, the perception of justice relative to your own mind.” Vanessa said. “Which is why your mother worked so hard to instill the values in you she did. It’s also why Leonidas and I tried to continue her lessons. It’s why we asked Malachi to teach you, and why we were so careful about nurturing Ty. Your mother knew that you could have the potential to be the greatest hero the world has ever seen, Lucien.”

“Or a greater threat than the Six Trumpets combined.” Malachi finished grimly.

“Which brings us all the way back to the initial discussion.” Leonidas said with a resigned tone. “Vanessa and I thought, foolishly I admit, that if we stopped you here and now you could go on without the weight of your Coven’s intention. Perhaps without the burden of such a visceral destiny, but…” He looked at his wife, who smiled at him sadly. “It’s clear, now, that we were deluding ourselves. We let our love for you and our desperation to protect you blind us to the consequences of our actions.”

Vanessa and Leonidas turned back to Lucien, and his godmother spoke. “After laying it all out for you, I know it was wrong of me to want to try to keep you from this, Lucien… But I had to try. I understand if you’re upset, honey, we just…”

“I’m not.” He said quietly, before clearing his throat. “I’m not upset. You were just trying to protect me, and I know it was out of love, but… Honestly, I wasn’t going to stop anyway. I would’ve kept going.” It felt bad to admit, but also cathartic to get it off his chest. “This stuff just feels… right. Maybe it’s the intention messing with my head, or whatever, but I just…” He grasped at the air, trying to find the words.

“You need to make a difference, because you always wished someone would do it for you.” Malachi said, his voice surprisingly devoid of its usual growl. “I understand what that’s like, boy.”

“Someone really wise once told me that if you have the power to stop the bad things from happening, then when they do happen and you could have stopped them, they become your fault.” He looked at Tiberius when he said it, and his godbrother grinned at him.

“But what about Hyperion?” Vanessa asked, looking from Lucien to Malachi. “He’s still targeting Lucien.”

“And we know why.” Malachi rumbled. “Hyperion declared himself Olympus’ successor in all but name. The world accepted him as the inheritor of the mantle. He styled himself as the one true heir to that legacy.” The old man turned to Lucien. “But it’s a lie. All of it. A delusion born of ego and, I’d like to believe, gross misunderstanding on Hyperion’s part. There’s only one true heir to your father’s legacy, Lucien, both literally and symbolically: You.”

And that meant he was a direct threat not just to Hyperion’s legitimacy, but to the entire legacy and narrative underpinning the very existence of the Golden League. His identity, and bloodline, were directly in the path of his personal idol’s future and the very status quo of metahuman society.

Once again, Ty summed it up perfectly: “Holy shit.”