The psychic shimmer faded, like a curtain lifting from a stage.
At last, Albert Hugo Deford's true face was revealed.
His features struck with an almost unnatural harmony—delicate yet defined, a seamless blend of oriental softness and western sharpness. His skin was pale, almost porcelain, unmarked by blemish or flaw. Platinum-blonde hair fell smoothly against his head, its strands catching the office light like threads of silk. And his eyes—shimmering amethyst purple, glowing faintly as though lit from within—carried both mystery and gravity. They radiated psychic strength so profound that even in stillness, it seemed to hum beneath the surface.
His features were androgynous, beautiful in a way that transcended sex and mere childhood innocence. There was something otherworldly about him—the kind of beauty that would draw eyes no matter where he stood.
More than that, his expression held a wisdom far beyond his years, as though life had etched experience into a child's gaze.
Joseph Stone, a man not easily shaken, blinked once. Even for him, the sight was striking. He had seen countless people in his long career—powerful trainers, brilliant scholars, visionaries, and champions—but rarely one who looked as though their face was carved by God itself.
Steven, however, was transfixed. The boy's ice blue hair and pale blue eyes reflected the light, but they seemed dim beside Albert's quiet radiance. His lips parted slightly, and almost without realizing it, he whispered:
"…Beautiful."
The word slipped into the silence of the office, soft but unmissable.
Albert froze. Heat rushed to his cheeks, a sharp contrast to his normally measured composure. He turned his head slightly, embarrassed, his psychic energy flickering faintly in response.
For all his intellect, for all his carefully cultivated aura of control, in that moment, he represented a child—shy, flustered, caught off guard.
Steven blinked as though realizing he had spoken aloud, and quickly looked down, but the faint blush on his own cheeks betrayed him.
Joseph allowed himself the faintest chuckle. "So it seems even brilliance comes wrapped in...unexpected gifts." His voice carried admiration, though it was tempered with pragmatism. "And perhaps, Albert, beauty can be as dangerous a tool as intelligence, if wielded without care."
Albert's embarrassment softened into a small, wry smile. His voice was quieter now, reflective. "For five years, I've lived with this face. And it hasn't always been easy. At the orphanage, some children avoided me, calling me strange. Others clung to me for the wrong reasons, seeing only an image, not the person I was beneath. Adults stared too long, sometimes with awe, sometimes with unease, sometimes..."
He didn't continue, and the silence afterwards was more than enough, making Joseph frown in distaste.
Albert's amethyst eyes glowed faintly as he continued. "The advantages are obvious—people remember me, they listen when I speak, doors open that might otherwise stay closed. But the disadvantages… are just as real. Jealousy. Isolation. Covetousness. The sense that no matter what I achieve, some will always say it came because of how I look, not who I am."
He drew in a breath, steadying himself. "So I hid behind the mask my powers allowed, until I could stand before the right people, at the right moment, and reveal myself by choice. To you, now."
Joseph's eyes gleamed with approval at the measured honesty, while Steven raised his head again, his expression softer, less startled now, but still deeply curious.
Joseph nodded slowly. "You recognize the burden of gifts as well as their power. That is wisdom beyond your years, Albert."
Albert met his gaze firmly. "It is not something I sought. But if it helps me be seen, remembered, or listened to when it matters, then perhaps it too has purpose."
Joseph's eyes gleamed with approval as he leaned back, satisfied.
Steven, meanwhile, couldn't quite tear his gaze away. The word he had spoken still lingered in the air, unclaimed yet undeniable. He stole one more glance at Albert's striking features, his young mind grappling with awe, curiosity, and something he could not yet name.