Legacy of the Void Fleet Chapter 83: ch80 finally at home

For nearly a full minute, my father stared at , emotions shifting across his face—disbelief, confusion, sothing else I couldn't quite place. Then, in a quiet, almost hesitant voice, he asked,

"So… you are him? But then… why do you look like this? What happened to you?"

I let out a sigh as I looked at my father. He was finally starting to accept what I had just revealed, though confusion still lingered in his eyes. Yet, despite the whirlwind of emotions he must have been feeling, he showed no signs of alarm or suspicion toward .

That realization brought a sense of relief. At least, for now, he wasn't rejecting outright.

Knowing that words alone wouldn't be enough, I decided it was ti to offer tangible proof—sothing undeniable.

"What I'm about to do will definitely shock you," I said, my voice calm yet firm. "But don't be alard. I'll explain everything."

I muttered my will, deactivating my ability concealnt.

With a whoosh, my appearance began to shift—no, it wasn't changing, it was returning to what it truly was.

My black hair faded, replaced by its natural white, streaked with golden strands. My blue eyes glowed as they morphed into their usual sharp golden hue. My facial features refined themselves, regaining their flawless, almost ethereal perfection. The air around shifted as well, my suppressed aura pressing faintly against the room—an overwhelming might held tightly under my control.

It all happened in an instant.

My father, standing before , froze in shock once again. anwhile, my mother, seated beside , remained still. Though her expression was complex, filled with emotions I couldn't fully decipher, she did not recoil. It was as if, deep down, she had already accepted the truth.

"This is my true appearance after I awakened my soul, Father, Mother," I said firmly, looking at them both.

My father, still reeling from the shock of my transformation, repeated my words in confusion. "Awakened soul?" His voice carried uncertainty, but he was noticeably calr than before.

I nodded. "Yes, Father."

Taking a deep breath, I began to give them a brief explanation.

"So that's how it is, huh?" my father muttered, still processing everything. "That being… it's so mighty and powerful to be able to do sothing like this so easily, at least from the way you just explained it."

He paused, his gaze sharpening. "But then… why you? Was it because of your unique soul, like you just explained?"

"Indeed, Father. It was because of my soul that he noticed ," I replied. "As for why specifically… I don't really know. But he did say that whatever happened to —and my other variant—was bound to happen sooner or later, just like it has now."

I took a deep breath before continuing.

"The only difference is that this ti, I have my fleet and the various advantages I've gained… all in preparation for what's coming."

"So, what you're saying is… just like now, our son—I an, you—would have disappeared two months ago, only to return like this?" my father said, his voice laden with complex emotions.

He looked at intently, struggling to fully grasp the truth yet slowly accepting it. "You are our Kallus… and at the sa ti, you're not?"

"It's not like that, Father," I said, shaking my head. "I had the resources and power that allowed to co back here—to return to all of you."

I paused for a mont before continuing. "If things had happened naturally, like that being said, everything would have been completely different."

And just like that, my father began asking countless questions, each one laced with curiosity, doubt, and concern. I answered him calmly, explaining everything to the best of my ability.

An hour passed.

By then, my father had mostly regained his composure, his initial shock giving way to contemplation. My mother, too, seed more at ease in my presence, which brought a sense of relief.

After a long silence, my father finally spoke.

"Okay, son. I understand what you've told ," he said, his voice steady but still carrying the weight of everything he had heard. "But you must understand—it will take ti to fully accept it all. You, coming from a different universe… having the mories and experiences of our Kallus… it's a lot to take in. No one can process sothing this big in just a few hours. So, please, give us ti."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"But know this—no matter how difficult it is to accept, you are our son, one way or another. You may have lived without us in your own universe, but here… we are all alive. Even Luna is here for you. So don't worry about us rejecting you." He glanced at my mother, who shared his grief, then turned back to with a resolute expression.

"We grieve for what was lost," he admitted. "But we are not in pain. Because you are here with us."

I took a deep breath, letting my father's words settle in. I had expected resistance, doubt—maybe even rejection—when I told them everything. But instead of all that, I found acceptance.

Even if it ca with grief for what was lost and hesitation for what was gained, it was still acceptance.

"I understand, Father," I said, my voice steady yet filled with emotion. "This isn't sothing anyone can accept easily… and I certainly wouldn't expect you to."

I glanced at my mother. Her expression was softer now, yet still laced with emotions I couldn't quite na.

"But knowing that you still see as your son, despite everything I've told you… it ans more to than I can put into words."

I gave a small yet genuine smile, one that carried both relief and gratitude. "Take all the ti you need. I'm not going anywhere."

I paused, then looked at both my mother and father simultaneously before adding,

"And I'll do my best to live as Kallus—the Kallus you rember—not just as the person I was before. Because here, in your presence… that is who I am."

My father let out a slow breath, his eyes closed for a mont as if gathering his thoughts and contemplating what had just happened. It took him quite a while before he opened them again, and when he did, they held a deep yet unreadable emotion.

"Huff... I see," he murmured.

Then, after a brief pause of silence, he gave a small nod.

"That's all we ask for, son. That's all we can ask for," he repeated the phrase in a steady voice, but there was an unmistakable warmth in it—a warmth that had been overshadowed by various emotions just monts ago. The pain was still there, lingering, yet he still said those words.

"You're here. That's what matters."

My mother, who sat beside , didn't say anything at first. Instead, she reached out her hand, hesitating for a mont before gently placing it on my cheek. Her touch was warm and comforting—the tender, familiar touch of a mother I had once lost.

Tears welled up in my eyes, slipping down my cheeks, yet I remained silent, listening to her.

"You're still our Kallus," she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet I heard it. "No matter what..."

Her lips trembled slightly, and before I could react, she pulled into a tight embrace.

For , this wasn't just a hug. It was her silent acceptance—her way of holding onto her son despite the impossibility of our circumstances.

My father watched the mont unfold, his expression softening as he did. He was never as openly emotional as my mother, but his stance was relaxed. Slowly, he stood up, walking toward , and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

It was his silent affirmation that, while things had changed and were undeniably different, our bond had not. Even though I had changed, I was still the sa.

They still needed ti. That much was clear to .

But in this mont, I—Kallus—knew that I was truly ho, in every sense of the word.

The hall remained silent.

For a long mont, none of us spoke. The weight of my words and the truth I had revealed still lingered between us, yet the warmth of their acceptance softened its sharp edges.

My mother's embrace remained firm, as if she feared that if she let go, I would vanish again. I understood her fear—I had, after all, disappeared from their lives once before.

My father, still standing before with his hand resting on my shoulder, watched in silence.

I gently stroked my mother's hair, feeling the quiet tremble of her tears as they fell. "I promise," I said softly, my voice steady but full of emotion. "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked up at , searching my face as if trying to commit every detail to mory. Then, after a brief mont, she gave a small nod, and her grip loosened slightly.

My father let out a quiet sigh before withdrawing his hand from my shoulder. He walked back to his seat, sinking into it with a heaviness that betrayed emotions he rarely allowed himself to show. His fingers interlaced as he leaned forward slightly, deep in thought.

"You ntioned… that this being," he finally said, choosing his words carefully, "told you this event was inevitable. That you—or rather, all versions of you—would have vanished no matter what."

He t my gaze, his expression unreadable. "That suggests sothing far greater at play than just fate. Or… is it rely coincidence? Do you understand what that ans, son?"

I nodded, understanding his concern. "I do, Father. But even now, I have no real answers. That being never explained the reasons behind it. All I know is that forces are at play—forces beyond my comprehension, at least for now."

I paused, then added with quiet resolve, "And as for what's coming… I may not be ready yet, but when the ti cos, I will be."

"But that's for later, Father. You don't need to worry about it," I said, my expression serious, yet filled with confidence. "For now, I am here. That's what matters."