Allina spent the next hour breaking down the mechanical requirements of becoming a true Pathbearer. She explained how these three distinct pathways were fundamentally tethered to specialized Essence Cores, and how an individual's specific categorization of awakening was determined.
These Essence Cores acted as biological engines, deeply intertwined with the strict hierarchy of one's ancestral lineage order. When triggered, they granted an individual the ability to project and manifest their unique lineage flaws inside a highly volatile, metaphysical domain known as the Genetic Sphere.
As the conversation deepened, Morca learned that following the codification of the Sin Purging Ceremony, humanity had successfully categorized three primary methodologies through which a post-human could force their lineage flaw to awaken.
Although he was already casually familiar with the first two concepts, hearing them systematically laid bare by his mother stirred an unfamiliar fire deep within his chest. A sudden surge of exhilaration nearly caused him to spring to his feet, but he suppressed it through sheer force of will. He kept his posture relaxed, choosing instead to listen, his analytical curiosity razor-sharp and intensely focused.
Soon enough, his discipline paid off.
"These methods determine how an individual awakens the flaws embedded in their genetic sequence," Allina explained, her voice carrying a rhythmic weight. "The first method of awakening is tied to the Legacy Genetic Spheres."
"Society often whispers that heaven always leaves a path for the common folk, yet watches with indifference as they bleed to reach it. Whenever a Legacy Genetic Sphere appears, blood is bound to spill. Even the most ancient clans will wage total war over their coordinates. These spheres are almost always accompanied by massive natural phenomena, emerging within isolated dimensional pockets (akin to dungeons,) deep underwater trenches, or entombed within ancient ruins. Such apocalyptic anomalies are nearly impossible to conceal."
"To successfully awaken a flaw within a Legacy Genetic Sphere, a mortal must survive layers of brutal trials, performing a sacred, binding rite at the final stage to grant them access to its innermost core structure."
"The second method," Allina continued, "is the most structured, effective, and comprehensive: the Ancestral Genetic Sphere."
"This path is possessed exclusively by ancient clans, secret factions, and a few dominant families. Only direct, pure-blooded descendants—and occasionally an exceptionally worthy subordinate faction—are granted entry within their respective lineages. Access is secured strictly through the Sin Purging Ceremony. By submerging a youth of at least fifteen years of age into a mythical fluid that stimulates their ancestral bloodline, their consciousness is forcefully projected directly into the clan's proprietary Ancestral Genetic Sphere."
She paused, her expression shifting into something deeply abstract, almost fearful. "The third way to awaken is dictated by an entirely different force: Fate."
"Fate is a concept that is virtually impossible for a mortal mind to comprehend, let alone break. When the gears of fate move forward and you choose to stand directly against them, it offers absolutely no leeway. Instead, it systematically breaks you. It tests you, grants you fleeting glimpses of false hope, and plays its cruelest tricks until you either perish in failure… or succeed."
"But if you possess the willpower to break free from its shackles, then that domain becomes yours permanently: the Evolutionary Genetic Sphere."
"An Evolutionary Genetic Sphere is as exceedingly rare as a phoenix feather. Barely one in a hundred thousand geniuses ever awakens through this path, and its ultimate benefits can be summarized in a single word—Anomaly."
"It is a living myth, attainable almost exclusively by the sovereign heads of ancient clans, major families, their designated heirs, or a rare few elite anomalies. It manifests only when an individual possesses a dual bloodline flaws that undergoes a complete genetic metamorphosis into a Mythical-grade sequence. For such a metamorphosis to occur, highly specific conditions must be met: the primary bloodline flaw must be equal to or stronger than the secondary one, and the individual must enter a Dual Genetic Sphere perfectly aligned with their flaw elements.
For example, a youth bearing a Dehydration-and-Heatstroke flaw must seek out a synchronized fire-water or fire-ice genetic spheres."
"Alternatively," she added, her voice dropping an octave, "one may force this transformation by refining the raw blood essence of both parents through exceedingly rare, naturally formed treasures. Only then can one fully awaken this path… and ascend as an Anomaly Pathbearer."
She looked at him dead in the eye. "But failure on any of these paths is absolute. If a youth fails their awakening, they do not simply remain an ordinary mortal. They are left as completely broken, crippled husks."
Hearing his mother's exhaustive breakdown of the genetic spheres, Morca nearly slipped from his seat. The internal exhilaration he had been desperately suppressing twisted into profound confusion, then hardened into grim realization, before finally crystallizing into a burning anticipation.
He was thoroughly confused because, if these three hazardous paths truly represented the only known avenues to awakening, then which category did he belong to? Had his father's disruption a year ago already condemned him to complete, irreversible failure, leaving him with zero hope of ever awakening?
A grim shadow fell over his thoughts. He could almost see his sole chance at power slipping through his fingers like smoke dissolving into thin air. He remembered that day with terrifying clarity; he had faced no ancient trials, nor had he been in any genetic sphere when his lineage flaw was meant to bloom.
If anything, he had felt rejected by an unknown force, only to find his consciousness drifting aimlessly through a stark, empty void—a trauma that was immediately followed by his chronic nightmares. The phantom weight of that failure had never stopped haunting him, even to this day.
And yet… the anticipation remained.
He knew his mother's character intimately. Allina would never toy with his emotions, nor would she offer him false hope simply to watch it crush him. She wasn't capable of such cruelty.
Sure enough, Allina leaned forward, her eyes reflecting the dim embers of the fireplace. "These three categories of awakening are what the vast majority of Pathbearers across Evoslon believe to be absolute law."
"But in truth… there exists a fourth path. One that almost no living soul in this era knows about."
She claimed it was a secret she had stumbled upon during her extensive travels—an ancient, decaying scroll that detailed a forgotten, forbidden trajectory: the Tri-ceedant Genetic Sphere.
"If the first path is a heavenly concession to mortals, the second a worthy legacy, and the third a break free from destiny… then the fourth is something entirely transcendent," Allina whispered, her hands trembling slightly. "It is an unrestricted, unbound, entirely self-created… and universally abandoned path of awakening."
"And it demands a horrific price."
"To walk it means you will be utterly forsaken by fate itself. Both the heavens above and the abyss below will seek to erase your very existence the moment you are perceived. Fewer than a handful of entities have ever dared to step onto this path, and those who did… their ultimate ends remain shrouded in eternal mystery."
Hearing this, Morca felt the blood in his veins flow in reverse. A visible tremor ran through his limbs—not out of a mortal fear, but from a terrifying, euphoric excitement blooming deep within his soul. A grander, absolute truth was standing right before him… agonizingly close, yet impossibly far.
With a faint, visible ache splitting her heart, Allina spoke, her voice thick with a profound, maternal sorrow. "And you… Morca… you belong to that exact category."
As for how a mortal was supposed to successfully awaken through the Tri-ceedant path, or what its awakening truly signified, she closed her lips, refusing to utter another syllable.
Yet another revelation left Morca completely stunned: she casually noted that it was strictly forbidden for any fifteen-year-old who had never suffered from a chronic, debilitating illness to undergo the standard Sin Purging Ceremony.
And then came the final tactical macro-reveal. The two neighboring regions of the Mystrasia Continent that bordered the Salvic Union were ruled entirely by ancient clans—each bearing distinctly terrifying traits and wielding dominant lineage orders of completely unknown origins. In time, she promised, he would come to learn more about them.
*****
Now, hours later, still standing rigidly before his theory collection board in the quiet dark of his bedroom, Morca slowly closed his eyes. He placed his right hand firmly over his rapidly beating chest.
"My heart… it's beating faster than it ever has before," he whispered into the empty room, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Shouldn't I be paralyzed with fear? Why do I feel so thoroughly… thrilled? Even knowing that the eyes of heaven and the abyss will hunt me down the exact second I awaken?"
The answer was clear: his soul was racing with pure anticipation for the unknown.
He was finally closing the distance on his puzzle, finally preparing to step his foot into the chaotic, blood-soaked macro-world of Evoslon. Utilizing his vast intellect, his mind began connecting the erratic fragments of his very first nightmare. Though the picture remained incomplete, a profound suspicion took root.
That cataclysmic, fragmented dream was not a mere hallucination born of trauma. It was an active revelation—one that would require time and power to fully decipher.
But a singular, haunting question still lingered in his mind: if it wasn't just a dream, was he viewing his inevitable future… or a forgotten past?
After pondering the paradox for a moment, he pushed the thought aside to focus on an immediate, glaring anomaly.
During his mad dash back through the forest, right after witnessing the red and purple blurs of Blackghost Crow and the mysterious young lady streaking toward his home, the system synchronization interface had glitched. At the time, he had logically assumed the error was triggered by his sudden physical exertion or the spiking anxiety of protecting his mother.
But the secondary glitch—the one that flared up the exact moment his gaze locked eyes with the veiled girl across the clothesline—proved otherwise.
Morca's crimson eye narrowed in the moonlight as a final, chilling realization crystallized in his mind.
Did the Infinity Nihility System's synchronization have something to do with that mysterious young lady?