Morning had arrived.
The rising sun painted the rooftops of the village in soft shades of orange and pink.
Yamato stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
The warm glow of dawn touched his face, but his expression remained unreadable.
Calm on the outside. Restless within.
The words from the book echoed through his mind.
The message.
The unknown meaning.
The weight behind it all.
He drew in a long, slow breath.
"I need to stop thinking and just work."
He tied a cloth around his head and got to work.
The broom glided across the wooden floor in long, practiced strokes.
Dust disappeared.
The dishes were washed. The windows were cleaned until they reflected the morning light.
He dusted the shelves, rearranged the furniture, and wiped every surface he could find.
Each movement was smooth.
Deliberate. Mechanical.
The more he worked, the quieter his thoughts became.
The chores anchored him.
When the last task was finished, he walked into his room.
The strong wind from the previous night had blown dead leaves through the opening in the roof.
"Tch..."
"I should've fixed this yesterday."
He dragged a stool beneath the opening and climbed onto it.
Stretching both arms upward, he pressed a patch of cloth over the broken section and fastened it carefully.
Dust drifted down from the ceiling, dancing through the sunlight.
Satisfied, he climbed back down.
His eyes swept across the room. Clothes. Books. Old tools.
Everything lay scattered.
PHEW!
He sighed.
"My room's a mess too..."
He began cleaning again.
He folded his clothes neatly. Stacked the books. Moved old boxes aside.
Then...
As he pushed a heavy wooden chest away from the wall, something caught his eye.
A faint glow. A soft golden light.
He froze.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
He turned back toward the wall.
Two strange words had been etched into the wooden planks.
Barely visible. Yet glowing with a gentle golden light.
His brows furrowed.
"Why is this showing now? I've lived in this house for years... and nothing has ever glowed."
He didn't understand.
But he stepped closer anyway.
His heartbeat quickened. His breathing grew heavier.
"What is it...?"
he whispered.
The glow pulsed once.
His fists slowly tightened. Veins surfaced across his forearm.
PRACK!
His fist crashed through the wooden wall.
The plank split apart.
A small hidden compartment broke loose and landed on the floor with a dull thud.
Dust burst into the air.
He immediately moved beside it.
Reaching into the hollow space, he carefully pulled something out.
A book.
Its cover was buried beneath years of dust and cobwebs.
Yet beneath the grime... A soft golden glow remained.
With one sweep of his hand, he wiped the cover clean.
The title revealed itself.
Yamato.
His hands trembled.
"This spelling seems... odd."
His fingers traced the letters.
"It doesn't have the symbol above the letters."
"It's just plain."
Something inside the book pulsed. Almost like a heartbeat. As though it had been waiting...
Waiting for him.
He slowly sat on the floor, crossing his legs. The room fell silent.
Then... The book responded.
It trembled.
FWOOM!
The cover opened by itself. Its pages flipped rapidly.
FWIP!
FWIP!
FWIP!
Until...
They stopped near the middle.
Yamato leaned closer.
Blank. Nothing but empty pages.
Then... Golden letters slowly burned themselves onto the paper.
"Yamato, you are an Outlook."
His lips parted. His breathing became shallow.
"...What is an Outlook?"
CREEAK.
The wooden floor behind him groaned softly. Gentle footsteps approached.
He turned.
His mother stood quietly in the doorway. Her hair was slightly messy. Sleep still lingered in her eyes.
"Yamato?"
she called softly.
He blinked.
"Mom..."
A gentle smile appeared on her face.
"Can I join you?"
He hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
"...Yes, Mom."
She walked over and quietly sat beside him.
Without saying a word, she rested a gentle hand on his back.
"I thought you already knew about this."
A faint smile crossed her face.
"I always wondered when you would open it."
"Your dad told me that one day, this book would call you when you were ready."
Yamato slowly looked back at the pages. More words appeared.
Letter by letter.
As though someone was writing directly before his eyes.
"Yamato, I don't know if I'll ever see you again. But I wrote this to help you understand who you truly are."
The page turned by itself.
"You are an Outlook."
Yamato read aloud.
Esther remained silent beside him.
Her eyes shimmered.
"You see, Outlooks are god children... or, as the creatures and creation called them, Demi-gods."
"Let's go back to the beginning."
"In the beginning were the gods. Created from nothing, but by something."
The page turned.
"An Outlook, however, is different."
"Born from a god and a human, regardless of which parent is which."
"They are gods as well. I dislike the term Demi-god because they possess the full potential and power of a god, even if they don't appear to."
Yamato gasped.
His mind struggled to grasp what he had just learned.
He continued.
"As the other book stated, I was the one who ordered the death of every Outlook from birth after The Madara Incident."
The page turned.
"It was my law."
"And because of it, many Outlooks died."
"Many are dying."
"And many more will still die."
Esther quietly lowered her eyes.
She already knew Yamato was an Outlook. And one day...
Something would come for the light she cherished most.
Another page turned.
"But when you were born, Yamato... I couldn't do it."
"I couldn't follow my own law."
"You were born from love, your mother's and mine."
The next page turned.
"You became our happiness."
"Something I never believed I could experience."
"You made me understand why gods continued breaking the law I created, even knowing the consequences."
Yamato gripped the book tighter.
His arms trembled.
"I sealed your power using the highest sealing technique."
"One that even I can barely undo."
Another page turned.
"I didn't know if you would ever reach this point..."
"But the fact that you're reading this now..."
"Means you've become stronger than I ever imagined."
"And that frightens me even more."
A tear quietly rolled down Esther's cheek.
She smiled.
"He was so happy when he held you for the first time."
Yamato continued reading.
"The reason for the law was the first Outlook we allowed to live."
"We believed he was simply another god."
The page turned.
"He became too powerful."
"Even the War Apostles feared him."
"Eventually, one of the Grand Gods, Láriniñ, the God of Light, was summoned to stop him."
"They fought."
"But killing Madara would mean distress."
"Instead, a deal was made."
"He became the God Slayer."
"The one destined to hunt every other Outlook."
Silence.
Yamato slowly lowered the book.
His eyes drifted toward the floor. Then...
To his own hands.
Finally... He looked at his mother.
"So..."
"I'm the son of a god."
He swallowed.
"Is that what the book is saying?"
"An Outlook."
Esther gently rested her hand on his shoulder once more.
"Yes."
Silence lingered between them.
A fire slowly ignited within Yamato's eyes.
"It doesn't scare me."
"Madara..."
"Whoever he is..."
"He doesn't scare me."
He looked down at the book again.
"It doesn't change who I am."
His voice grew firmer.
"It's just another wall I have to overcome..."
He turned toward Esther with quiet determination.
"...so I can work hard for you, Mom."