Chapter 52: Family 3
Nova took over the kitchen with a seamless, rhythmic efficiency. He didn’t need to look for the utensils; he moved between the counter and the stove with a spatial awareness that made the cramped room feel twice as large.
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, activating [Absolute Insight]. The world shifted. The ingredients on the counter—the Crimson Phoenix Chicken, the Jade Spirit Vegetables, the Deepwater Dragon Fish—lost their physical form and became a map of energy signatures, nutrient densities, and flavor profiles. Within seconds, his mind simulated thousands of combinations, discarding them until he arrived at a singular, flawless sequence of preparation.
A flick of his wrist ignited a pale, shimmering fire over the stove. This wasn’t a gas flame; it was the Chaotic Origin Flame, burning with a heat so precise it could sear a molecule without damaging the cell wall.
As he began to cook, he circulated his Qi. He didn’t just season the food with spices; he infused the fibers of the meat with chaotic energy, weaving a tapestry of vitality into every cut. To Lyanna and Mira, it looked like he was merely moving with high-speed grace. To Thorne, who watched from the doorway with sharpened warrior instincts, Nova looked like a master smith forging a weapon.
The aroma hit the room first—a scent so rich and vibrant it felt like a physical weight.
"Nova..." Aunt Mira whispered, standing by the doorway. "I’ve never smelled anything like this. Even the Five-Star restaurants in the Inner City don’t..."
"Just wait until it’s finished, Aunty," Nova said, his hands moving in a blur as he flash-seared the Dragon Fish.
THE DINING TABLE - 8:30 PM
The dining table was crowded with plates that seemed to emit a soft, internal light. The Crimson Phoenix Chicken sat at the center, its reddish-gold glaze shimmering.
"To family," Thorne said, raising his glass in a quiet toast.
They began to eat. The conversation died instantly.
Lyanna made a sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, her eyes rolling back as she focused entirely on the flavor. To her, Mira, and Torven, the meal was a masterpiece of taste. They felt a familiar, pleasant warmth spreading through their limbs—the same "invigorating" feeling they had experienced over the last few days of Nova’s cooking. Unknown to them, the last of their hidden internal scars and cellular blockages were being swept away by the Qi Nova had woven into the broth.
Thorne, however, froze after the second bite.
He didn’t just taste the food; he felt it. As a frontier veteran, he knew the feeling of high-grade healing potions and expensive vitality supplements. This was different. The energy from the chicken didn’t just sit in his stomach—it raced toward his right shoulder, the one that had sat low for years. He felt the old, jagged adhesions in the muscle dissolve. The deep, gnawing ache in his marrow from a decade of border frost began to thaw.
He looked across the table at his son. Nova met his gaze with a calm, knowing expression. Thorne realized then that this wasn’t just a celebratory dinner—it was a medical intervention disguised as a feast.
After Dinner
"The mansion," Nova said, breaking the silence as the plates were eventually cleared. "It has a proper training hall where I can practice without worrying about destroying our current home. It has security formations that will keep you all safe when I’m away. It has space for everyone to live comfortably."
He looked directly at his father. "And most importantly, having you resign from frontier duty means I don’t have to waste mental energy worrying about whether you’ll survive the next Rift incursion."
Thorne’s expression hardened, his jaw set. "I can’t resign. Those positions are—"
"Essential, I know," Nova interrupted. "But Father, you’ve been stuck at your current level for years because frontier duty doesn’t provide enough time for proper cultivation advancement. You’re getting older, the Rifts are becoming more dangerous, and the gap between your level and what you’re being asked to face is widening."
He watched the tension in Thorne’s shoulders, noticing the way his father sat with his weight balanced for a fight even at dinner.
"How many close calls have you had this year? The injuries you hide in your messages—the shoulder, the new scar. You’ve done your duty. Over two decades of service. You’ve earned the right to retire with honor."
"The border needs experienced warriors—" Thorne started.
"The border will survive without one sentinel," Nova said. "I can’t survive without my father."
The honesty of the statement left Thorne silent. He looked at Mira, who was wiping her eyes, and at Lyanna, who was watching him with a quiet, uncharacteristic fear. He looked back at Nova and saw a young man who wasn’t just asking—he was providing a way out.
"I’ll consider it," Thorne said finally, his voice rough. "File for honorable discharge. They should approve it given my years of service."
"Deliveries start tomorrow at 7 AM," Nova said, moving to close the deal. "Food provisions first, then furniture, then vehicles at 9 AM. We can move in whenever you’re ready."
"Tomorrow," Thorne confirmed quietly. "We’ll move tomorrow."
Lyanna literally bounced with excitement, her earlier seriousness evaporating completely. "I’m going to have my own room! An actual bedroom with space for all my stuff!"
She paused and looked at her mother with pleading eyes. "And we’re eating the leftover Crimson Phoenix Chicken tomorrow, right? We can’t let it go to waste!"
Aunt Mira looked at the fortune sitting in their kitchen, then at her daughter’s hopeful expression, then at Nova.
"Yes," she said, a tremulous smile finally breaking through.
"YES!" Lyanna pumped her fist in the air, then immediately dashed toward the kitchen. "I’ll help package everything!. I am definitely not going to sneak a bite."
They all knew she was definitely going to sneak not just a bite but a couple.
As she disappeared, chattering excitedly, Uncle Torven shook his head.
"Yesterday we were worried about academy fees. Today we’re moving into a mansion and eating ingredients that cost more than our house."
"Life changes fast sometimes," Nova said.
Thorne stepped closer to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he spoke his voice carried the full weight of a father’s emotion. "You’ve grown so much. Not just in power — in maturity, wisdom, responsibility. I’m proud of you, Nova. More than I can express."
"Thank you, Father."
They stood like that for a moment. Then Thorne’s expression shifted slightly — still proud, but with an edge of something else. Something he had been carrying for a long time.
"There’s something I need to tell you," he said quietly. "About your mother. About what really happened."
LATER THAT NIGHT
After the table was cleared and the house had settled into a heavy, satisfied quiet, Nova found his father sitting on the front step. The night air was cool, and Thorne held a cup of tea with both hands, staring out at the dark street.
Nova sat beside him. They sat in silence for a long moment, the only sound being the distant hum of the city.
"You look at me with the same eyes she did," Thorne said quietly, not looking up from his tea. "Analytical. Always three steps ahead."
Nova’s attention sharpened. "Tell me about my mother."
Thorne took a slow breath, the steam from his tea curling into the air. He looked at the street, his hands tightening around the cup.
"Your mother didn’t die," he said.
The world seemed to go still. Nova didn’t blink. He waited, his mind already beginning to simulate the implications of that single sentence.
[AN:
Time for some generic cliche plot, dont blame me, imagination is hard] "Or at least," Thorne continued, "I don’t believe she is. Though I can’t prove it, and I’ve been searching for seventeen years without success."
He turned to face his son directly, golden eyes meeting golden eyes.
"She disappeared the night you were born. Not died—disappeared. Without explanation, without even a warning, leaving only a letter that raised more questions than it answered."
Thorne reached into his pocket and produced a folded piece of paper—worn from years of handling, the edges softened by countless readings.
"She wrote that she had to leave to protect us. That staying would bring danger to both you and me. That powerful forces were involved, and the only way to keep us safe was to vanish completely."
He handed the letter to Nova.
The paper was indeed old, the ink slightly faded but still legible. Nova’s enhanced perception immediately noted several things: the handwriting was elegant but hurried, the paper quality was far superior to anything his father could have afforded seventeen years ago, and there were faint traces of residual energy—something beyond mortal capability—embedded in the fibers.
The letter read:
My dearest Thorne,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. Please understand that this decision breaks my heart, but it is the only way to protect our son and you.
Forces beyond your current understanding are involved. My presence endangers both of you in ways I cannot fully explain. If I stay, they will find me—and they will destroy everything I love to get what they want.
I’ve sealed Nova’s potential. He will appear completely ordinary, without talent or exceptional gifts. This is mercy, not cruelty. Let him live a normal life, safe from the attention my bloodline would bring.
Please raise him with love. Teach him to be kind, strong, and wise. If fate allows, we will meet again when he’s powerful enough to stand beside me without being destroyed.
I love you both more than life itself. Never doubt that.
—A?????/085u48 (I haven’t thought of a name yet, Put your name ideas in the comment section.)
Nova read the letter twice, his Absolute Insight analyzing every detail.
She sealed my potential, he thought with sudden comprehension. That’s why I was considered talentless. Not because I lacked ability, but because it was deliberately suppressed.
So when I awakened, it must have broken that seal. She probably didnt expect the rank of my talent would be at the Primorial Origin Rank.
Which explains the sudden ’awakening’ that seemed to come from nowhere. All that pent up potential exploded forth in a second and broke the seal, making me awaken a Primordial Rank Talent and System.
"I’ve tried to find her," Thorne continued, his voice rough with old pain. "Spent every spare moment searching, investigating, following every possible lead. But it’s like she vanished from existence entirely. No records, no traces, no witnesses. Nothing."
He gripped the railing tightly, knuckles white. "I told you she died because it was easier than explaining I had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. Easier than admitting I’d failed to protect her, failed to find her."
"You didn’t fail," Nova said quietly. "If she went into hiding deliberately, with access to power beyond normal understanding, then of course you couldn’t find her. She didn’t want to be found."
Thorne looked at his son with surprise, then grudging acceptance. "Perhaps. But it still feels like failure."
"Do you have any clues about these ’forces’ she mentioned?" Nova asked, carefully refolding the letter and handing it back.
"A few theories, nothing concrete." Thorne tucked the letter back into his pocket—he clearly kept it close always. "Based on that residual energy you undoubtedly noticed, she wasn’t just a normal civilian. She had cultivation abilities, possibly quite advanced."
"I met her at a border outpost twenty years ago," he continued. "She appeared out of nowhere during a particularly bad Rift incursion, helped us close a King Tier breach that appeared out of nowhere, then vanished again, she seemed badly injured. I tracked her down afterward, and we... connected."
"I was quite handsome back then. hehehe."
His expression softened with memory. "She was brilliant, powerful, kind, mysterious. She never spoke much about her past, but I knew she was running from something. I just never imagined it would catch up with her the night our son was born."
Nova processed this information, cross-referencing it with his knowledge of this world’s power structures and hidden factions.
A woman powerful enough to partially seal a Primordial Origin-grade talent. Advanced enough in cultivation to evade detection for seventeen years. Connected to forces that even she feared might destroy those around her.
That suggests either very high-level cultivation sects, ancient bloodline clans, or possibly something from beyond this planet entirely.
"I’m telling you now," Thorne said, "because you’re strong enough to hear it. And because you deserve the truth about your mother. She loved you—loves you. Whatever she did, she did to protect you."
"I understand," Nova said. "And I don’t blame her. Or you. You both did what you thought was right."
He met his father’s gaze steadily. "When I’m strong enough—and I will be—I’ll find her. I’ll learn what these ’forces’ are. And I’ll make sure she never has to hide again."
Thorne’s eyes glistened with moisture that refused to fall. "You’ve already surpassed me. In just three days, you’ve reached heights I spent twenty years trying to achieve. If anyone can find her..."
"I will," Nova confirmed with absolute certainty. "That’s a promise."
They stood together on the porch for a while longer, father and son connected by shared determination and the mystery of a woman who’d loved them enough to disappear.
Eventually, Thorne clapped his son on the shoulder. "Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be chaotic with the move."
"You too, Father."