He seized the boy's shoulders, shaking him desperately, voice hoarse with panic:
"Akio! Get up, son! Enough joking—wake up!"
But Akio's body stayed limp, his small eyes shut, his burned skin still reeking of char. Vanco refused to believe it. He kept shaking him, madness in his movements, as tears burst down his face, mixing with the rain across his son's cheeks.
"Get up!! Please… you won't die like this…!"
His words rang false, more like lies to himself than pleas to his son. Each second broke his voice further, his heart shattering into pieces.
At last he collapsed to his knees, pulling Akio against his chest with all his strength, as if his embrace alone could breathe life back into him. He cradled the small body, head dangling lifelessly against him.
Vanco's scream ripped through the storm, loud enough to merge with the thunder, as though the sky itself cried with him.
"Aaakioooooo!!!"
After a long walk through the dark forest, Vanco staggered as he carried his son's body. His breathing was heavy, his shoulders trembling from exhaustion and cold, while his trembling voice released weak sobs, as if his tears had already dried up.
Each step was slower than the last, until it seemed like he was walking unconsciously, his body nothing but a machine moved by pain. Then… in the midst of all that silence, a faint voice broke through, barely audible:
"…Father…"
Vanco froze instantly, his eyes widening in shock as though time had stopped. His heart leapt in his chest, and his trembling voice rose as he stared at Akio's face:
"Akio?! Is that you?!"
Vanco stood frozen, his eyes locked on his son's features. Slowly, life began to return to those dim golden eyes. They opened as though fighting back against the darkness that had swallowed them. Akio's chest rose and fell with broken breaths, each inhale like a battle against death itself.
Vanco gasped, gently lowering him onto the ground, his own hands trembling from the shock. He cupped his son's face with desperate tenderness, afraid he might vanish in the next heartbeat. Tears poured down his face, mixing with the rain, as he choked out words he could hardly believe:
"Akio… my God… you… you're alive!"
But the heavens showed no mercy. Another bolt of lightning split the night and struck Akio once again! Yet this time, his body didn't fall as Vanco expected. Instead, Akio began to rise slowly, floating into the air as if pulled upward by some unseen force. Blue and golden sparks surged from his small body, dancing across his skin, weaving in the air like living threads of lightning.
Vanco dropped to his knees, screaming in horror, his eyes glued to the terrifying sight. His heart pounded like a war drum, his hands shook violently—he didn't know if this was a miracle or a curse. Without thinking, he bolted toward the nearest towering tree, climbing it in wild desperation until he reached the top.
From there… he leapt.
It was reckless. Foolish. Impossible. But he didn't care—he only thought of reaching his son, suspended in the storm.
Vanco stretched his hand with all his strength, his fingers trembling, brushing against the charged air around Akio's glowing body. For a heartbeat, it felt like he had reached him… but it was nothing more than a mortal's leap. His fingertips barely grazed Akio's back before slipping away.
The next instant, his body slammed into the ground with brutal force. The air was knocked from his lungs, blood gushed from a gash in his side where he struck the rocks. A ragged groan tore from his throat, his scream breaking into a hoarse whimper, barely heard over the storm.
He lay sprawled in the mud, his blood mixing with the rain, his half-lidded eyes fixed on his son floating far above him, beyond his reach. All he could do was stretch out his trembling hand into the void and whisper a fading name that dissolved into the thunder:
"…Akio…"
Moments later, the lightning that consumed Akio slowly lowered him back down, as though the sky itself was returning him to the earth. His body came to rest on the wet grass, wrapped in a fading golden glow.
And then came the sight that froze Vanco's blood—every burn and wound that had scarred Akio moments ago was gone, erased completely, as if he had never been touched.
The golden mark on his forehead was shining brighter than ever, blazing like the only light that dared to defy the storm. In the next moment, Akio's eyes shot open wide. He gasped for air, breaths ragged, staring at himself in disbelief, with no memory of what had just happened.
But when his gaze fell on his father's broken body on the ground, he screamed at the top of his lungs:
"FATHER!!"
He sprinted toward him with all his might, his feet slapping the mud, arms reaching forward. But suddenly… a sharp spark burst from his right hand. It was as if lightning itself surged through his veins and exploded outward. A bolt of electricity shot like an arrow, striking the trunk of a towering tree nearby. In an instant, flames erupted, and its upper half cracked and came crashing down.
Akio froze in place, eyes wide in horror, his heart pounding madly. The lightning had come from him!
He stared at his trembling right hand, raising it slowly before his face as if it belonged to someone else. Tiny sparks still pulsed between his fingers, fading and returning, a reminder of what he had just unleashed.
His mind spun wildly:
"Did that… come from me? But how…?"
A cold shiver ran down his spine, a mix of fear and awe. He didn't realize yet that he had changed—that this moment was only the beginning of something far greater.
Vanco, meanwhile, staggered to his feet, barely able to stand, blood pouring from his wound as he clutched it with shaking hands. Each step was a gasp of agony, but his eyes never once left his son.
Akio reached a trembling hand toward him, his voice breaking in confusion:
"Father… I… what have I done?"
Vanco didn't let him finish. He dragged himself forward, heavy steps carrying him to his son. Then he knelt and pulled Akio into a crushing embrace, as though he feared the boy would vanish from his arms if he let go. His frail body pressed against Akio's small frame, his hands quivering as he held him tight, the tears the rain had failed to wash away flowing once more.
Their embrace was drowned by the storm around them, rain and thunder blending into their grief. Vanco clung to his son, whispering in a broken, tear-stained voice:
"I knew… I knew this moment would come, Akio. Everything pointed to it since the day you were born… the lightning that chased you, the mark on your forehead… It was never a coincidence. You… you are not an ordinary child."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting his son's golden ones, trembling with fear and shock, and continued:
"You are now… a wielder of the Falken's power."
Akio's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice stumbling out:
"W–What?!"
But before he could catch his breath or make sense of his father's words, the sky roared with lightning once more, louder than ever before, shaking the entire forest.
The mark on Akio's forehead burned with searing brilliance, his face glowing as if ignited from within. A torrent of immense power surged through his veins, terrifying and unknown. His whole body trembled, while even Vanco himself faltered, watching his son with wide eyes—as though witnessing a beast awaken for the very first time.
And just before the storm's fury died, Akio's scream ripped through the forest:
"AAAAAAH!!"
Then… darkness fell.