Demos: "What ability?" he asked.
The Voice: "My son, you wouldn't understand my divine ability, even if I explained it to you."
Demos: "Hey, come on… how would you know?" he protested.
The Voice: "Okay, okay… but you'll have to call me Mother first, and then I'll explain it to you."
Demos wasn't expecting her to ask that of him. He had never known what it felt like to have—or to call—someone mother. The word felt foreign on his tongue. Embarrassed, he blurted out a jumbled mess of words that didn't form a full sentence. The voice from the interface paused, startled—then burst into laughter.
Demos: "What? No—I'm not ready—but why—no—hey—what?!"
The Voice: "Ahahahaha! Ahahahahah!"
The Voice: "Calm down, Demos. When you're ready to call me Mother, Mom, or even Mommy, I'll be here."
Her words reassured him. A calming sensation filled his chest. He paused, then asked softly:
Demos: "So… are you going to tell me what kind of ability it was?"
The Voice: "Well—yes. But not now."
Demos: "What?! Why? Is it because I'm too weak?"
The Voice: "Well… yes. You're not ready. And stop interrupting me when I'm trying to explain something, okay?"
Suddenly, Demos remembered the suffocating pressure he'd felt earlier. He lowered his head and answered like an obedient child.
Demos: "Yes… Your Majesty."
She laughed warmly and replied:
The Voice: "Ahahahahahahaha! Demos, to you, I'm no queen… just a mother trying to protect her only child."
For the first time, Demos began to understand what it felt like to be loved by a mother. A small smile crept across his face without him realizing. Tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. He murmured so softly that even the system interface flickered, glowing brightly for a moment.
Demos: "…Thank you… Mother.
The Voice: "My baby has finally called me Mother. This calls for a celebration! I think I'll go visit that old man for once. Anyway—as I was saying—I gave you my own celestial vanes so you could be healed in the Chambers of Nothingness."
Demos: "So… you're saying your celestial vanes turned me into your biological son? Is that right?"
The Voice: "Yes. You and I now have the exact same celestial vanes. We're 99% related by blood. And the best part? Unlike your father, who only has two colors from the Original Five-Colored Lightning… you and I possess all five. Ahahahahaha! I guess that experiment worked perfectly!"
Demos: "WHAT THE FUCK?! MOTHER, DID YOU JUST SAY I WAS A FUCKING EXPERIMENT?!"
Demos shouted, stunned at the revelation. His mother had just casually admitted to using him as a test subject.
She suddenly started playing dumb, her voice feigning innocence.
The Voice: "I have no idea what you're talking about…"
She tried to change the subject as fast as possible.
The Voice: "Oooo… it looks like your Spartan innate ability will awaken soon!"
Demos: "Hey! Mother, don't just skip the topic like that—wait, innate ability? What's that—?"
He stopped mid-sentence, his thoughts derailed by her final words. Spartan innate ability? Just like that, he forgot the whole experiment ordeal.
The Voice: "Okay, baby boy… I'll have to contact you again. The mana stone is about to—"
The interface crackled. Her voice cut off mid-sentence. The connection was gone.
Demos: "Mother? Mother—Mother, say something! I want to know what innate ability you're talking about!"
But no answer came. She was gone.
Somewhere in the cosmic void, she smiled softly—remembering the sound of him calling her Mother.
Back in the chamber, Demos kept calling for her, voice trembling with frustration. Then silence. He cursed under his breath, desperate for answers.
He sighed, defeated, and turned toward the cave's entrance—just as a familiar voice called out.
Akira: "Tribe Leader, you're awake. Are you okay?"
Demos: "Yes, I'm fine. Is something wrong?"
Akira: "No, Tribe Leader. But… six moons ago, we heard you scream so loud, it startled the warriors at the entrance. They were too afraid to enter without your permission."
Demos' eyes shot wide open.
Demos: "Six moons?!"
He looked around in disbelief. Shaking his head, he grabbed his axe.
Demos: "Where is Gorthok? That fucking bastard tried to roast me."
Akira's face remained stoic. Her eyes revealed nothing. Without a word, she turned and motioned for him to follow.
Demos trailed behind her, stepping into blinding sunlight. He squinted, shielding his eyes until they adjusted. Before him lay a vast plain—rugged cliffs, twisted dying trees, and the rotting stench of decay. Skeletal remains of long-dead creatures littered the earth.
It was a land of death. A place where only the strongest survived.
Akira led him to a clearing. There stood Gorthok, towering and still. Around him, the tribesmen began to gather, murmuring in hushed voices as they laid eyes on Demos.
Gorthok's single eye locked onto the Spartan axe in Demos' hand. His face twisted in confusion. He staggered back, stunned—not a single wound remained on the young warrior. The axe radiated with power.
How had Demos survived?
How was he… whole?
The tribesmen whispered among themselves.
Then, Gorthok's scowl deepened. He dropped his bone spear to the ground with a heavy thud.
Gorthok: "I will receive my punishment," he growled. "For underestimating the strength of the new Tribe Leader."
A massive warrior stepped forward.
Maverick: "You have proven your strength in battle, Tribe Leader. I, Maverick, would be honored to hunt alongside you… Great Warrior of Sparta."
Three others stepped up in unison.
Ryker: "I, Ryker, will also hunt alongside the new Tribe Leader."
Thane: "I, Thane, wish to join the hunt."
Kael: "And I, Kael, will follow you into battle."
Akira watched silently, her eyes fixed on Demos—part concern, part reverence. She wondered: What judgment would he pass on Gorthok?
Demos' expression was unreadable. Then, at last:
Demos: "I will not punish you, Gorthok. Not yet, at least…"
He tightened his grip on the axe and turned to them all.
Demos: "Instead, I will hunt with you—and with these four warriors. Together, we will bring down a massive beast… and celebrate a new beginning for our tribe."
A moment of stunned silence. Then one tribesman cried out in joy. The others joined in, roaring with excitement. Anticipation of a grand feast filled the air.
Gorthok's face remained solemn, but a flicker of gratitude danced in his eye.
Gorthok: "Thank you… Tribe Leader."
Demos chuckled.
Demos: "Ahahahaha! Aren't you thanking me a bit too soon? Your punishment will be life-threatening—a stress relief for the warriors! But don't worry—I won't let a single one of my people die. With this axe… we will be victorious."
A shiver ran down Gorthok's spine at those words—but he smiled, reassured by Demos' promise.
Gorthok: "I'm ready, Tribe Leader."
Demos: "Then let's head out."
And so, the new Tribe Leader—Demos, son of the fallen Sparta and heir to divine lightning—set off with his warriors: Gorthok, Kael, Thane, Ryker, and Maverick, leaving behind the rocky plains and venturing into the unknown.