CHAPTER 24: TRUTH!

Truth!

"Behold," Ben’s voice boomed, his hand held aloft as glints of luminescence flashed in his hand, "this is your gift, my son—Fallen Lightning."

The room trembled with the unleashed raw energy, a low vibration humming along the walls and floor. White arcs crackled and spat within the glass vial before him, straining against their confinement as if hungry to consume all around them. Each flash of light bathed the training hall in harsh, brutal flashes of light, throwing jagged shadows that writhed upon the stone. Even the air appeared to shudder under its burden, thick with power and peril.

Victor stood frozen. His raven hair length streamed with each burst of static, sweeping against his bare shoulders. Violet eyes went wide, echoing the beauty of the lightning. Though covered by the barrier, the bite found him—microscopic needles of electricity tasting his skin, the finer hairs on his arms and throat stiffening. His chest expanded hesitantly, torn between wonder and terror.

His lips parted involuntarily. In his previous world, lightning was a glimpse in tumultuous skies—something viewed from afar, never caressed, never owned. But this... this lived, trapped within arm’s length. Gorgeous. Frightening. Starving. His breath hitched, as if merely seeing it could take it away.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe. The energy before him was not merely power—it was raw will, charged with potential and devastation.

Then, as a whiff of sound piercing the tempest, a metallic chime awakened within his mind.

[System notification: Unidentified treasure found in vicinity of host.]

[Secondary scan finished.]

[Treasure identified: Fallen Lightning – a elemental core of lightning condensed. Provides unimaginable control of the lightning element and imbues wielder with force of destruction.]

[Grade appraisal started.]

[Object quality determined: D Class.]

[For reference later on, host—objects, weapons, techniques, or anything that will be rated will always be given a grade ranging from F, lowest to SSS, highest.]

Victor’s eyes narrowed. SSS Class...? The words boomed in his head. His chest constricted as if air itself had become thicker, pushing against his ribs until each breath was shallow. The raw magnitude of what he’d just heard stunned him, his face frozen between wonder and incredulity.

"Son? Where are you lost?"

Anna’s soft voice floated to him as sunlight seeping through a storm. He opened his eyes, shaking himself back into the present, and looked toward her. Her mouth was curved in a gentle smile, but her eyes were fixed on his face with quiet concern—a mother’s ability to read the turmoil that he had tried to keep hidden.

"I..." His voice cracked, then regained its strength with a weak laugh. A small smile pulled at the edges of his lips as he struggled to bring his gaze back to the globe where lightning seethed and writhed, bound but unrestrained in its prison. "I was just... amazed. Truly."

Ben’s laughter thundered through the chamber, deep and uncontrolled. "Ha! I told you, darling. Our son has excellent taste—he approves of my presents."

Anna shook her head at her husband, entertained but tolerant, her face relaxing as she stared at the two men. "Yes, yes. He does."

Victor’s interest only grew more acute, burning hotter than the tempest trapped within the artifact. He turned, violet eyes landing on his father with an intense look. "But Father... what is this Fallen Lightning? And how did you acquire it?"

For the first time, Ben’s smile shifted. The easy pride wore off, replaced by something older, something heavier. Shadows fell at the back of his eyes, old memories rising to the surface, pressing against them. His voice, while calm, had that heaviness. "The truth is, this treasure was not mine to find. It was left to your grandfather... a gift left to him by my elder brother—the crown prince of the Lionheart Kingdom.

Victor’s breath caught, his entire body stiffening as if the world itself had come to a halt for him. His violet eyes, wide at first, narrowed into sharp slits, disbelief flashing like a storm across his countenance. His voice cracked as he stumbled out the words, "Crown prince... elder brother? But... Father, you always said you had no brothers. Only Mother, my sister, and I. How could—"

Ben raised his hand, a sharp, solitary movement that stifled his son’s objection. The air within the chamber changed with it. Even silence seemed charged, as if the very walls of the stone room strained to hear what was to be said. Outside, thunder boomed deep through the heavens, and lightning ripped the sky, its light spilling through the high-stained glass windows and casting splinters of color on the floor. The light illuminated Ben’s dark blue eyes, setting them aflame with a kingly, yet awful power, but behind that royal weight lay something else—something broken, shaking, human.

"I know," he finally said, his voice weighed with strain, heavy, a note torn out of some deep well of him. Not the voice of a ruler giving order—it was the voice of a man coming apart. "You are confused. Let me explain."

Victor took a hard breath, the raven-black strands of his hair falling across his shoulders as he adjusted his stance. His violet eyes grew darker, impatience flashing across them for a moment, but he kept silent. There was something in his father’s voice that stood him firm, something beyond authority.

Ben’s eyes dropped, then wandered off, as if he stared at specters visible to him alone. When he spoke, every word came weighted, pulling with it a sorrow borne too long. "You were born, and I was still just a young prince. Untroubled. Just married to your mother. My older brother held the crown then. The kingdom was at peace. At harmony. At safety.". For a while, it felt like forever." His throat convulsed, his lips compressing as if the memory itself seared. "But a year after your birth... it all fell apart."

Victor’s gaze hardened. His father’s tone bore the brunt of an unhealed wound.

Ben’s fist tightened against the armrest of the throne. His jaw worked, his muscles shaking though he struggled to remain steady. "There was a rebellion. Quick. Violent. The noble houses we had trusted most—traitors. The kingdom was awash in fire and steel. One night... the palace itself was stormed by the rebels. They slew my father. They slew my brother. They slew everyone who carried the blood of the crown.

The words tore through the chamber like a knife. Victor’s chest rose dramatically, his breath trapped in his throat until it seared. His fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood bubbled at the crescents they etched. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning all out except for the rage building in his veins.

"They thought the throne was theirs," Ben went on, voice hardening to iron, but sorrow still danced at its rim. "But your mother and I... we weren’t in the capital. We had removed you and your sister from the city for a brief period. By chance. By fate. We survived. The others..." His voice broke, and Victor realized, for the first time ever, his father’s mask wavered. "The others were killed."

The silence that ensued was intolerable, stifling, as though even the storm raging outside paused in its breathing.

Ben persisted, his voice low, sharp, but relentless. "I went for help to the Terra Dragon Kingdom. Their king complied—though his clemency cost me dearly. Lionheart’s land, half of it. I agreed. With his armies, I put down the rebellion. Order was maintained. The crown was regained. But at what price..." He hesitated, then stood up, the words wrested out in finality. "The price was everything. By the time we finished. only we were left. Your mother. Your sister. You."

The chamber sank into silence again, heavy with ghosts, thick enough to choke on.