Time in Gaia Paradise did not move the way it did in mortal realms. Some days passed like falling petals. Others stretched endlessly, wrapped in the glow of eternal sunrise. For Dante and Anarissa, the weeks blurred into a rhythm of training, meditation, and long hours spent testing the limits of bodies that were still learning to exist.
Their mentors noticed the changes first.
Under the Dawnrise Expanse, where the light never fully dimmed, Dante and Anarissa were sparring against several newly risen gods they'd grown close to—Ryalis of Aether Fire, Tovan the Tidebearer, Seris the Veil-Witch, Marion the Stone-Fist, Lyria of Blooming Winds, and Torwen of Stormsong. The matches were overseen by their mentors: Vorun, Lysera, and Varael, each watching from different vantage points with the sharp focus of seasoned gods.
The sparring began evenly enough.
Dante moved first, silver-violet aura flaring with each strike as he clashed against Ryalis. Aether flames spiraled off Ryalis's staff, but Dante's claws cut clean arcs through the air, scattering sparks everywhere. Across the field, Anarissa swept into a radiant slide beneath Tovan's sweeping water-blade, her palms leaving streaks of golden light that evaporated the currents instantly.
Ryalis laughed between clashes. "You two grow stronger every hour."
Seris, slipping around Dante's blind spot, muttered, "And that's the problem. Their power spikes like a beast with no leash."
Dante halted just long enough to exhale, aura flaring stubbornly. "I'm trying. It just reacts before I do."
Anarissa mirrored him, sunlight flickering along her forearms. "Mine too. It keeps making choices for me."
Vorun, arms crossed, raised a brow. "Exactly why we're observing."
They resumed.
And the changes became impossible to ignore.
Dante lunged, and silver-violet fur dusted along his arms in a ripple. His third eye flashed open without his consent—just a single violet blink—and Seris's illusions warped like melting glass. Ryalis stumbled as the very air bent around Dante's movement, pressure shifting in unpredictable waves.
Not far away, Anarissa's wings burst outward in a half-formed fan of gold fire, scattering feathers of radiant heat. Her hair ignited briefly into living sunlight, and when Tovan tried to bind her with a spiraling water vortex, her next strike shattered the technique into glittering steam.
Torwen whistled. "There! Again. Their power shifted mid-motion."
Lyria nodded slowly. "No—evolved."
Varael lifted his staff slightly. "Enough. Stop the match."
His voice did not rise, but the command cut through the air like a still blade. The sparring ended instantly. Dante's aura dimmed reluctantly, flickering like a settling flame. Anarissa's wings folded, though not entirely—they seemed reluctant to disappear.
Lysera stepped closer, eyes glowing with a calm, ocean-blue sheen. "Your forms are awakening early. Earlier than predicted."
Dante frowned. "Awakening what?"
Varael tapped the ground with his staff. "Godly Talents."
Ryalis nearly dropped his weapon. "You're already triggering those?"
Seris leaned in. "Show-offs."
Lysera shot her a look. "Sit—all of you."
They obeyed. Even the young gods sat in a loose circle, curiosity outweighing pride.
Vorun conjured a sphere of pale light between his palms, patterns shifting across its surface. "Godly Talents," he said, "are the deeper truths embedded in a god's soul. Not spells. Not skills. They are reflections of who you are and what you can become."
Lysera nodded. "Some awaken immediately. Others sleep until you form a Divine Kingdom. Or battle. Or suffer. Or ascend further."
Varael gestured to Dante. "Yours, especially, needed to be examined."
A soft hum rose as a sphere of Dante's essence separated from him—silver and violet, swirling like a dream and a star colliding. The sight made several young gods inhale sharply.
Lysera touched the sphere, her eyes widening slightly. "His Soul-from-Beyond talent is active."
Tovan leaned forward. "Soul-from… where?"
Dante stared. "What does that mean?"
Vorun answered, voice steady. "It means your soul does not originate in our cosmos. It grants adaptability far beyond normal limits. You can merge with foreign essence, survive hostile laws, evolve aggressively. It is why Oblivion did not claim you."
Dante felt a chill—but also understanding.
Varael nodded toward the faint glow around Dante's third eye. "Your Psionic Mutation talent has also awakened. Hence the eye opening on its own."
Dante grimaced. "Will I ever be able to control it?"
Lysera's tone was reassuring. "In time. Power first blooms wild."
Seris whispered to Lyria, "I want a third eye."
Lyria pinched her arm.
Then Lysera turned toward Anarissa. "And you. Yours shines brighter."
A golden sphere emerged in front of Anarissa, glowing like a newborn star. The field lit up around them.
"That," Lysera said quietly, "is your Radiant Rebirth Kernel. A life-creation talent. Rare. Beautiful. Dangerous if mishandled."
Vorun added, "It resonates with your mortal avatar's solar affinity. Across planes, your strengths feed each other."
Anarissa blinked. "So when she grows… I feel it?"
"And she feels you," Varael said softly. "A mirror across existence."
Ryalis grinned. "That's incredible."
Marion crossed his arms. "It's terrifying is what it is."
Vorun lifted a hand. "Understand—these are only the first talents. You will awaken many more. Realm talents. Divine talents. Soul talents. Talents that appear only after you build worlds."
Dante exhaled. "So how do we trigger the rest?"
Varael smiled faintly. "By living. Fighting. Creating. Losing. Loving. Everything a god does leaves an imprint. Everything changes you."
Anarissa stared at her golden sphere. "So we're evolving already."
Lysera inclined her head. "Yes. And that is why we began this training early."
Vorun stood. "Tomorrow, we begin formal talent modulation."
Dante's lips curved into a determined grin. "Good. I want to know what else is inside me."
Anarissa rose beside him, wings flickering with warm gold. "Then let's learn what we're meant to become."