The imposing dining room of Venhorst Castle was enveloped in a heavy silence. Three figures sat at the table, engaged in serious conversation, and the solemn atmosphere contrasted with the warm glow of the candles and the richness of the details that adorned the room.
The first was a woman of rare beauty, about twenty-eight years old. Her ocean-blue dress fluttered gently over the chair, and the tight fabric at the top accentuated her slender, elegant silhouette. Her long black hair fell loose, framing a face marked by delicate features, but her serious gaze conveyed an almost forbidding grandeur, as if she were a rare, beautiful, and unattainable jewel.
At her waist, a long, black, metallic train was tightly wrapped over her dress. At first glance, it could be mistaken for an ornamental belt, further hugging her curves, but to those who knew, it was a mark of her lineage. The contrast between the darkness of the train and the vibrant blue of the dress only enhanced its presence. Around her neck, a necklace of evidently magical material glinted in the flickering candlelight, matching the earrings and bracelet that adorned her wrists.
The second figure was a man who appeared to be in his early thirties, but his gaze and posture betrayed that his real age was much older than what could be seen. His presence was imposing. He had short, black hair, and his white shirt, tight to his body, revealed well-defined muscles. The open collar revealed a glimpse of his strong chest, while the brown pants and leather boots gave him a robust, almost savage air. Like the woman at his side, a black tail wrapped around his waist, a symbol of his origin and power. His eyes were deep and penetrating; few dared to look at him directly. But the most impressive thing about him was not his appearance – it was the weight of his existence. At such a "young" age, he had already progressed to the level of a superior being.
The last figure was the smallest of all. A seven-year-old boy, with a delicate appearance and a thin frame, sat in front of the adults. His features resembled those of the woman beside him in almost seventy percent, although they also bore similarities to the man. His short, black hair was like a shadow of night, matching his dark eyes that, unlike the intimidating brightness of his parents, brimmed with restlessness. His tail, too short to be tied to his waist, swung nervously up and down, showing his anxiety.
The three were seated, but only one spoke. John.
The weight of his words still hung in the air, like a secret about to be revealed.
He took a deep breath, his tail moving downward—an involuntary gesture that revealed a mixture of guilt and hesitation.
— Father... mother... — her voice came out trembling.
Fernando and Catarina kept their eyes fixed on him, attentive to every nuance . They could sense that something important was about to be said.
John swallowed hard, then blurted out the truth he had been keeping to himself for so long.
— I came from another world... called Earth.
An overwhelming silence fell over the table.
— Somehow, I got sucked into a darkness... and now I'm here.
Catarina's eyes shone with surprise and disbelief. Fernando remained motionless, analyzing every word.
John didn't look away.
After all, that moment would change everything.
And he was ready to face the consequences.
After John finished speaking, his eyes roamed over his parents' faces, anxious for any hint of reaction.
The silence that followed was brief— too brief .
Suddenly, a burst of laughter erupted into the air.
— Hahahahaha ... hahah ... haha ... — Fernando burst out laughing, throwing his head back, as if he had heard the most absurd joke of his life.
— Very good! — he choked out between laughs. — 'I came from another world'... hilarious !
He slammed his hand on the table and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before turning to Catarina, still laughing.
— Honey, our son is a world traveler! Can you imagine?
John didn't laugh. Neither did Catarina.
Fernando, noticing the seriousness in his son's gaze, patted him on the shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.
— F. Júnior... son , you're joking, aren't you?
John just shook his head in denial, his expression unwavering.
Fernando's laughter slowly died down, and he then looked at Catarina, hoping to find some complicity in his wife's gaze. However, what he saw was a serious look, cold as ice.
— Honey, don't you think ... ?
Catarina interrupted him before he could finish.
— Think about what I told you years ago. Let him explain.
The seriousness in her voice made Fernando frown. His eyes darkened slightly as he thought about it. He remembered. John's birth. What Catherine had told him back then.
The air became heavy.
- Speak.
The word came out as an indisputable order.
But along with it came something else.
An invisible pressure took over the environment, and suddenly, the earth elements in the room began to stir, instinctively responding to Fernando's presence.
John gasped. The air was knocked from his lungs as if an invisible hand were squeezing him. His vision blurred, and he felt his body tremble under a crushing weight. The pressure on him was overwhelming, suffocating, relentless.
The world around him dissolved into a blur of pain and despair.
I... will die...?
Then, everything changed.
A cool, refreshing breeze enveloped his body, like the embrace of the ocean itself. The weight on him instantly disappeared, and air filled his lungs again in desperate relief.
The breeze came from Catarina.
Her eyes, once gentle, were now like sharp blades, cutting and merciless.
"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was icy, and the power contained within it made even Fernando stiffen. "He's just a boy."
Fernando hadn't done it on purpose— Catherine was sure of that . But that didn't stop her from being furious.
Protecting John was a primal, visceral instinct. It didn't matter who was in front of her, or why. If her son was harmed in any way, Catarina would act without hesitation.
Fernando scratched his head, uncomfortable, and let out a sigh.
— My bad... sorry . Don't get mad.
But Catarina didn't seem willing to let the matter drop so quickly.
Still staring at him, she pointed at John, her voice thick with suppressed frustration.
— Apologies to F. Júnior.
Catarina's tone was firm, non-negotiable.
Fernando sighed and turned to John.
— There you go… Son , forgive your careless father.
John nodded with a small smile, although he knew that the real reason for the apology was not exactly regret, but rather Fernando's fear of making Catarina angry.
Being a superior being meant a lot, but not enough to defy his own wife. He had learned that lesson the hard way. The last time he had angered Catherine by not paying enough attention to John, he had had to spend an entire month sleeping on the cold floor. All the while, Catherine had made sure to dress provocatively in front of him— and there was nothing he could do about it.
Since then, Fernando understood that certain limits should never be exceeded.
As the atmosphere became milder, John took a deep breath. He loved those two. Despite everything, despite their individual quirks, Fernando and Catarina were his family. He had grown to love them over the past seven years, and he knew that, as inexperienced and carefree as Fernando was as a father, he loved him deeply. The same went for Catarina, who pampered and protected him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.
And that was why he wanted to tell the truth.
— Actually, I used to live on a world called Earth — he began, measuring his words. — I was already an adult when I ended up here. There, I was an orphan, but I had my sister… and many friends.
He smiled slightly.
—To tell you the truth, I had more than a thousand friends.
Of course, he didn't mention that these "friends" were just contacts on Facebook , Instagram , and other social networks. That detail didn't seem relevant.
— I graduated from a good university with a degree in computer science. After graduation, I started working in SIA intelligence. But my sister didn't know about it… I was forbidden to talk about my work.
John then told us what his life was like on Earth. He talked about his career, his routine and his fascination with technology. He commented, with some pride, that he was a respected otaku on the internet, although he avoided going into details about the adult light novels he read and the dubious anime websites he visited.
He enthusiastically described the modern world— how technology connected people, how countries had diverse cultures, and how the Internet had broken down borders, uniting humanity in ways never before seen.
Fernando and Catarina listened in silence, astonished.
To them, that world seemed as unbelievable as it was insane. A place without spiritual energy, where people depended solely on machines to evolve? A world where there were weapons capable of decimating entire cities without the use of magic? A place where humans lived in metal boxes that flew through the sky, traveling between continents in a matter of hours?
For Fernando, it was a chaotic and dangerous world. For Catarina, it was a cold and lonely world.
But of all the things John told, it was his sister who took up most of the conversation.
He talked about the days they spent together, the trips to the movies, the afternoons shopping where she spent all her allowance, the sunny Sundays at the beach. He told her about his exaggerated jealousy, about how he would pick on his girlfriends and how he always found a way to push them away.
John pretty much shared his entire life.
When he finished, Fernando and Catarina bombarded him with questions.
Fernando seemed more interested in the women of Earth— how they dressed, especially at the beach, and how relationships worked without the influence of spiritual energy. Catarina, on the other hand, focused her questions on John's sister, the girlfriends he had had, and how women behaved in their world.
For some reason, when Fernando insisted too much on beachwear, Catarina gave him an icy look.
John just watched the interaction between the two, amused.
That was his family now.
And somehow, he felt at home.
By the time the conversation was over, the evening had already gone on. John was feeling tired, and his parents, realizing this, sent him to bed. He did not protest. On the contrary, he felt a deep relief.
This truth had been bothering him for a long time, and now that he had finally shared it, he felt lighter.
In these seven years, John had discovered something fundamental: although his mind was that of an adult, due to his past life, his childish body exerted an undeniable influence over him. Hormones and the gradual development of his brain directly affected the way he thought and acted. In the early years, when he was still a baby, he had extreme difficulty thinking clearly. He spent long hours sleeping, just like any other child his age. Now, although his consciousness was more stable, he still noticed that his memory did not always follow his train of thought.
He realized, little by little, that his soul was surrendering to the body he now inhabited.
His calculations indicated that by the age of ten, he would finally be able to keep his body intact. Still, he knew that he would never be exactly the same person he had been on Earth. His new body was not human. As a demihuman, he had possessed superior physical strength and endurance since birth, and these abilities would only increase as he evolved.
Before going to bed, John looked at his parents and made a request:
— Dad… Mom , I have something to ask.
Catarina leaned slightly towards him, attentive.
— What's wrong, son? You can ask for whatever you want.
There was a new warmth in her voice, a tenderness even more evident than before. Perhaps because by revealing his secret, John had demonstrated the trust and love he felt for his parents in this world. Knowing that he saw them as his new family touched Catherine's heart deeply.
John took a deep breath and seriously declared:
— I want my name to be John Venhorst .
Catarina's eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, listening.
— I don't want to forget my past life — he continued. — Therefore, from today on, I renounce the name Fernando Júnior Venhorst . I want to be called John Venhorst . I'm sorry, father.
Fernando and Catarina exchanged a look. There was no hesitation in their expressions, only understanding.
Catarina nodded first, followed by Fernando.
"You are our son," Fernando said, his voice firm but gentle. "It doesn't matter what you are called. Never forget that."
John feeling his chest warm.
After that, they exchanged goodbyes and each went to their rooms.
In the privacy of their chambers, Fernando and Catarina continued their conversation.
John's story was still difficult to assimilate. Not because they doubted him, but because there were many gaps, many mysteries still unanswered.
Fernando went over every detail he heard, his mind working on countless possibilities. There was something that caught his attention in a disturbing way: at no time did John say he had found an egg in his soul — the same type of egg that resided in Catarina's soul.
This was no coincidence.
Oh egg. The crimson energy. The mysterious baby that existed in John's soul.
The pieces were there, but the connection between them remains shrouded in shadow.
And Fernando knew that, sooner or later, they would need to find the answers.