My Talent's Name Is Generator

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “By doing something they don’t expect.”

“And if I say no?” he asked quietly.

“Then I will find a way to go around you and do what I want to do,” I replied, a faint smile touching my lips. There was no threat in my tone, just certainty.

Saleos studied my face for a long moment. His gaze was sharp, heavy, as if he was trying to strip me layer by layer and see what was hidden underneath. The fire in his eyes did not disappear, but it stopped raging.

“Your organization,” he said slowly, “it’s called the Order of Absolute, right?”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

He let out a breath through his nose. It almost sounded like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “An arrogant name.”

“It is,” I agreed calmly. “I won’t deny that.” Then I added, “I’m Billion Ironhart, by the way. And the two behind me are my people.”

Saleos’s eyes flicked past me, lingering on Knight and Lyrate, their forms still hidden beneath their cloaks. “Yes,” he said. “The ones I was not told about. Where were you hiding them?”

I shrugged slightly. “There are a couple more hidden as well. You don’t survive this kind of war by laying all your cards on the table.”

That earned me a longer look.

“So tell me, Commander. After what you just experienced. After being taken from the core layer without raising an alarm. After seeing what we can do without using armies or banners…”

I paused, letting the silence stretch.

“Are you feeling even a little tempted to gamble?”

“If the answer is yes,” I continued evenly, “then we move on to the next demonstration. And after that, you can decide whether we’re worth trusting.”

His answer came faster this time.

“Yes,” Saleos said. “I want to. I want to pull my people out of this deadlock. I want to erase the Eternal from the face of this universe.” His jaw tightened. “But what you’ve shown so far is still not enough for me to place everything on you.”

I nodded once, accepting that without offense.

“Fair,” I said. “I wouldn’t trust someone either if all they did was talk big and kidnap me.” A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Alright. Then let’s move on to the next demonstration.”

I turned slightly and pointed toward the demon inside the cocoon.

Lyrate stepped aside and snapped her fingers. The wooden cocoon finally began to loosen. The tightly braided threads of law-infused wood unwound themselves layer by layer, shrinking inward, compressing until the entire structure folded back into a single dark seed. She caught it effortlessly and slipped it away.

Phegor’s body dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

“He was making too much noise,” Lyrate said calmly. “So I knocked him out.”

I chuckled softly and walked closer, stopping just beside Phegor’s motionless form. Saleos followed me with his eyes, his expression hard, but now threaded with caution.

“Commander,” I said, “when I walked through your defensive layers earlier, I noticed something interesting.”

I glanced up at him.

“I’m sure you already know this, but there are traitors among your forces.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s nothing new.”

“I agree,” I said. “What surprised me wasn’t that there were traitors. It was how many there were.”

I let that sink in before continuing.

“Not one or two. Not a handful. A pattern. Spread across multiple layers. Command posts. Medical bases. Combat units.”

Saleos stiffened.

“And then,” I continued, “I found something even more interesting.”

I looked down at Phegor.

“Your right commander is one of them.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Saleos took a step forward, his aura flaring before he caught himself. “Watch your words,” he said coldly. “Phegor has fought beside me for decades.”

“I’m sure he has,” I replied evenly. “That’s what makes it effective.”

“That’s enough,” Saleos snapped. “You’ve crossed—”

I raised one hand slowly.

“Commander,” I said, “you asked for proof. I’m giving it to you.”

I looked him straight in the eyes.

“I know this is difficult to accept. I know it sounds insane. But before you deny it, before you attack me, or before you decide I’m your enemy, do one thing.”

I gestured toward Phegor.

“Let me show you.”

Saleos hesitated. His fists clenched. His gaze flicked from me to the unconscious demon and back again.

“Do not interfere,” I added quietly. “If you do, this conversation ends here. And I might attack you myself. I have talked enough.”

Something shifted in his expression.

“Proceed,” he said at last.

I looked at Knight and nodded.

In the next instant, shadows surged out from his body. They wrapped around Phegor’s limbs one by one, coiling tightly before lifting him off the ground. His arms were forced wide, his legs pulled apart, his entire body suspended in the air as if nailed in place. The shadows dug in deep, not just restraining flesh but binding Essence itself. Even unconscious, his body strained against them, muscles twitching in reflex.

“He won’t wake up,” Lyrate said calmly. “I made sure of that. I pumped him with enough suppressant to keep his mind offline.”

Saleos did not answer. His eyes never left Phegor.

I stepped closer and raised a single finger.

The air shifted.

Phegor’s armor cracked first, then split apart entirely, fragments falling away and vanishing before they could hit the floor. His clothing followed, tearing as if pulled by invisible hands, exposing his bare torso to the cold air of the hall.

At the same time, deep within the dawn core, the Star of Origin trembled.

I felt it clearly. The same response I had sensed before. The same wrongness.

Black veins began to spread across Phegor’s skin.

They started at his chest, thin lines at first, branching outward like ink bleeding through paper. Then they thickened, crawling down across his abdomen, pulsing faintly as if alive. A third vein surfaced along his left thigh, twisting unnaturally beneath the skin.

Saleos took a sharp step forward before stopping himself.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, but edged with shock.

“I’m not doing anything,” I replied evenly. “I’m just letting you see what was already there.”

I increased the force on the space around those veins. The black lines shuddered, then began to move. Slowly, painfully, they pulled inward, converging as if drawn by a central force.

The flesh split.

Three runes emerged.

One rose from Phegor’s chest. Another tore free from his abdomen, heavier, denser, carrying a weight that made the surrounding Essence recoil. The third surfaced from his thigh, smaller, but far more refined, its lines precise and deliberate.

They hovered in the air, dripping black residue that evaporated before it could fall.

The hall went deathly still.

I flicked my wrist, and the runes floated higher, rotating slowly for Saleos to see from every angle. Deathmist leaked from them in thin wisps.

I turned to face him.

“Commander,” I said calmly, “I think you know exactly what these are.”