The Grand Hall at Murrchel Academy shone softly, light from the lanterns making the polished stone glow with golds and dark shades. Hundreds of students sat quietly gazing at todays star , barely breathing, cause the situation is breathtaking 'The Greatest Human' In front of them breathing same air as them, their hearts filled with respect and worry. Old flags hung in the hall. They told stories of bravery, courage, losses, and the endless search for Ultimate power.
Then he entered.
Lucias Hiemer — The Human God.
He didn't need guards. He didn't need an introduction.
The moment his boots touched the marble floor, the air itself shifted — firm, alive, as though reality bowed to acknowledge his existence. Every whisper died. Every pulse synced. Even the light seemed to bend toward him.
Abraham sat near the center row, Jennifer and Maria beside him. The Hollow Cry inside him stilled for the first time, as if in reverence. He didn't understand why — but Lucias's very presence calmed the chaos, not with peace, but with dominance.
Lucias stood at the podium, quiet for what seemed like forever, letting the anticipation build. Then, his voice sharp and clear, he began.
There's no greater honor I can think of than to live—and even die—for the world where you came from.
His words hit hard every point – calm, steady, and strong presence. He didn't shout to reach everyone ear; he didn't have to. You could hear the authority in his voice, and the attitude he carry It's traveling the words to people. The cadence of someone who had watched empires crumble and rebuild, Simply when a strong presence take over the world side with them.
"Being a patriot" he went on, "Is not about following blindly. It is will. The will to stand when others kneel. The will to give everything — your body, your name, your life — for the land that gave you a reason to exist."
Students sat transfixed. Some looked proud; others looked terrified.
Lucias's gaze swept over them like judgment incarnate — pale eyes gleaming faintly, as though they could see into the core of every soul in that hall.
Jennifer swallowed, whispering, "He's… unreal. It's like the air bends for him."
Maria's gaze stayed steady, sharp. "That's not charisma," she murmured. "That's power in disguise."
Lucias's hand rose slightly — not a gesture, but a command.
"You believe power is meant for self-gain. For dominance. For your pride.
But power… true power… exists to serve something greater.
The weak use power to control. The strong… use power to protect."
Abraham's pulsewave flickered. The words resonated too closely. Hollow Cry pulsed faintly in his chest, responding to that truth. Protect. Not rule. It was the same vow that lived buried inside him since that day.
Lucias turned his gaze to the crowd's center — to Abraham. Their eyes met at some point, and for a heartbeat, time slowed down like lucias stare have the authority over even time.
Lucias smiled faintly. Not mockery, not warmth — something deeper. Recognition.
"Some among you," he said softly, "carry something inside you that should not exist. A fragment of chaos bound to a mortal shell.
If you learn to master it — you will shape nations.
If you fail — it will consume you."
A wave of worry spread among the people gathered. Abraham alone grasped the complete importance of what had just been said. His Hollow Cry thrummed, answering in echo.
Lucias's tone softened, a shadow of melancholy threading through it.
"I have seen empires burn because they forgot what they stood for.
I have buried kings who feared death more than dishonor.
Remember this, children of Murrchel — the world owes you nothing.
But you… owe it everything."
The hall erupted in applause and clapping sound —Started slow, then hit like a storm.
Lucias didn't smile. He simply nodded once, eyes distant, already beyond the moment. To him, this was not a performance. It was a reminder — a sermon of inevitability.
As he turned to leave, his gaze brushed Abraham one last time.
And in that instant, Abraham saw it — the faintest shimmer around Lucias's form. Not light, not aura — but something deeper. A Hollow Cry. Ancient. Perfectly contained.
Maria's eyes widened. "He… has one too," she whispered.
Jennifer shivered. "No… his isn't Hollow Cry. It's something else… something older."
The great doors closed behind Lucias with a resonant boom.
Silence lingered, heavy, sacred.
Abraham sat frozen, breath trembling. After being reborn in this world for the first time he encountered someone whose existence he could not comprehend and it was not because of chaos being controlled by power, like his own experience.
Maria leaned in, her voice soft and unsure. "You felt that aura from him too, right?
He nodded still processing . "Yeah… whatever that was… it looked at me."
The faint pulse of his Hollow Cry answered, whispering through his soul-core — a warning, or perhaps an invitation.