My Talent's Name Is Generator

”Vivi, tell me one thing?” I asked.

”Yeah,” she replied.

”Who has more control over Vaythos—you or me?”

For a moment Vivi paused. Only the faint ripples of violet essence moved across the surface of her feathers, tilting her head with clear curiosity.

”But I am Vaythos,” she replied simply.

I smiled at that answer.

Through the Sovereign Link I could clearly feel the connection between us. My essence resonated with hers, and through that link the entire planet responded faintly to my presence. The bond that allowed me to control the world core still existed, only now that power had a small phoenix-shaped form.

Which meant that if I had control over Vivi... I still had control over Vaythos.

”Alright, Vivi,” I said finally. ”Let me go visit my grandmother and take care of a few other things. Once I’m done, I’ll come back. Then we will go find some world cores for you to devour.”

Her wings flared excitedly.

”Really?”

”Yes.”

I pointed toward the small basin filled with liquid essence.

”Until then, enjoy the pool.”

Vivi didn’t waste another second. She flapped her wings once and dove straight back into the violet essence with a happy splash.

”Come soon!” her voice echoed from inside the glowing liquid. ”I will keep watching you!”

I chuckled.

Then I took a step forward.

Space folded.

The next moment I appeared high above the capital.

The massive city of Astra stretched beneath me, far larger than I remembered. New districts had expanded beyond the old walls, and the flow of life across the streets felt stronger than before. Despite our arrival earlier, the city remained calm. No alarms, no sudden movements.

No one had noticed. I glanced back toward the forest plateau in the distance. That was probably Vivi’s doing.

But I didn’t stay there long.

Another step and space folded again. The capital vanished from below me and I reappeared above Cairo, my home city.

The familiar streets spread beneath me as memories resurfaced instantly. The city looked almost unchanged compared to the capital, quiet, steady, and comfortable in a way that large cities rarely were.

I descended slowly.

Moments later my feet touched the ground in front of my house. For a moment I simply stood there. The house looked exactly the same.

The wooden gate. The small garden. Even the stone path leading to the front door had not changed. Time had moved forward... but this place had remained the same.

I closed my eyes briefly and extended my perception. Inside the house I could feel a familiar presence.

My grandmother.

I blinked slightly in surprise.

She was home. At this hour she normally would have been out working. Taking a slow breath, I stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

The faint chime echoed inside the house. I could here footsteps moving through the house. After few moments the door opened.

My grandmother stepped out, holding a book in her hand.

She looked up.

For a moment she simply stared at me.

Shock filled her eyes.

Then her voice trembled.

”...Billion?”

I smiled softly.

”Yes.”

Instantly she took one step forward. Then another. Before I could say anything else, she pulled me into a tight embrace.

For a moment she simply held me.

Her arms wrapped tightly around me as if she were afraid I might disappear again if she loosened her grip. I could feel the faint tremble in her hands as they pressed against my back.

”You came back...” she whispered.

Her voice was soft, almost disbelieving. I slowly returned the hug, placing one arm around her shoulders.

”Yes,” I said quietly. ”I came back.”

She pulled away just enough to look at my face. Her eyes moved across it carefully, as if confirming that I was real and not some illusion standing at her door.

”You look the same,” she said softly, though her eyes had already begun to water. ”But... you feel different.”

I gave a small, helpless smile.

”A lot has happened.”

She reached up and touched my cheek gently, the same way she used to when I was younger. Her voice wavered slightly.

”I never knew if you were safe.”

For a moment neither of us spoke. Then she suddenly pulled me into another hug, this time even tighter than before.

”I missed you,” she said.

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of all the time that had passed.

I closed my eyes briefly.

”I missed you too, grandma.”

She laughed softly through her tears.

”Come inside,” she said after a moment, pulling back and wiping her eyes quickly as if embarrassed. ”You must be hungry. You always came home hungry.”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

She turned and walked back into the house, and I followed quietly behind her. The familiar scent of home lingered in the air.

My eyes moved slowly across the living room.

Nothing had really changed.

The same wooden table. The same sofa. The same shelves lined with old photographs and small decorations collected over the years.

Then my gaze stopped. The family portrait still hung on the wall exactly where it always had.

Grandma paused as well when she noticed where I was looking.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

In the picture, my grandmother, Elena Ironhart, sat in a chair, holding a seven-year-old version of me in her lap while I made a ridiculous face toward the camera.

Behind her stood my father, Julius Ironhart, wearing his full special forces uniform. His green eyes were sharp, his brown hair neatly cut, and a small but unmistakably proud smile rested on his face.

Beside him stood my mother, Chloe Ironhart, also dressed in her uniform. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders, and her dark eyes were focused entirely on me even in the photograph.

That picture had always done the same thing to me.

It made my chest tighten.

And it always made me wonder what it would have been like if they had lived long enough to see what kind of man I had become.

”Grandma,” I said softly.

”Yeah?” she replied, turning fully toward me.

Her voice was calm, but I could see the way her eyes had softened while looking at the portrait.

”I have some news.”

She frowned slightly, curious.

”What is it?”

I looked at her.

”They’re safe.”

She blinked.

”What?”

”Their souls,” I said quietly. ”My parents’ souls are safe.”

For a moment she didn’t move. Then her eyes widened slowly, disbelief flooding her expression.

”What... did you say?”

I took a small step closer.

”My parents’ souls are safe, they did not turn into Abomination or Phantom” I repeated. ”And I can bring them back.”

The words seemed to freeze the room.

My grandmother’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Her hand slowly rose to her mouth as if she needed to steady herself. For a long moment she simply stared at me.

Then tears began filling her eyes.

”You... you can bring them back?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I nodded gently.

”Yes.”

Her knees nearly gave out as she sank down onto the nearby chair. Her eyes moved from me... to the portrait... and back to me again. Her fingers trembled as she pressed a hand over her chest.

”All these years...” she whispered.

Then suddenly she began crying.

Not quietly. But like someone whose heart had carried a weight for far too long.

”My children...” she whispered through her tears.

Her gaze returned to me again, searching my face desperately.

”You’re telling me... I will see them again?”

I stepped closer and knelt beside her.

”Yes, grandma,” I said softly. ”Someday you will.”

I stepped forward and pulled her gently into my arms again, holding her as her shoulders trembled.

”Hey,” I said softly, resting my chin lightly against her head. ”Don’t cry like a kid.”

She let out a shaky laugh through her tears.

”I have so much to tell you, grandma.”