Bloody Odyssey

Chapter 79 79: New Year

Months had passed like water through one's fingers.

The seasons turned, the Backrooms settled under Dax's rule, and somewhere in the world above, the calendar had finally turned to a new year. For the Godfall family, it was no ordinary celebration.

It was a day of remembrance.

The streets of the Godfall manor had transformed. Lanterns hung from every archway, their soft glow warm against the winter chill. Long tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, sweet pastries, steaming bread, and bottles of wine. Children darted between the legs of adults, laughter trailing behind them like colorful ribbons.

It was not a sad occasion. Grief here was not worn as a burden. It was shared — broken bread, poured wine, stories offered to the sky where the dead might still hear.

Dax walked the cobblestone paths with Madeka on one arm and Nadia pressed tightly to his other side. His robes were simple — dark and unadorned. Heads turned as he passed. Whispers followed. But no one dared approach.

Except the children.

They swarmed him like sparrows, tugging at his sleeves, showing him their toys, their masks, and the painted faces they had made for the festival. Dax released Madeka and Nadia without a word and dropped to one knee as a little girl thrust a paper flower into his hands.

Beside him, a familiar presence pressed against his leg.

Sapphire.

The chocolate princess had grown — barely — but her presence had not diminished. She stood close to Dax now, closer than before, her small hand gripping the folds of his robe. While the other children ran wild, she remained at his side.

Dax reached into his robe and produced a handful of candies wrapped in bright foil. The children cheered. He knelt lower, pressing a sweet into each eager palm with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Each wrapper carried a tiny nano tracker — invisible, weightless, perfect.

He watched them scatter, already cataloging the data streams that would soon flow into his systems. Their auras leaked from their small bodies like steam from a kettle — untamed, undisciplined, pure.

Talent. Every single one of them carried it.

His gaze drifted across the courtyard, past the games and laughter, settling on the youngest. Those below the age of four had not yet unlocked their cores. Their auras were faint, formless, and untapped.

All except Sapphire. She had already formed hers.

She stood beside him now, her tiny hands busy with something on her face. She had taken her ceremonial robes and wrapped them strangely — loose and flowing in all the wrong ways. Leaves from the garden had been tied across her cheeks with string. She stroked them gently, as if they were something sacred.

"Hohoho."

Her little voice echoed across the courtyard, high and sweet.

The children around her froze. Then they burst into laughter.

One little boy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. "Ancestor! The Ancestor has come!"

Sapphire nodded gravely, her leaf-beard rustling. "Hmm. Did you not see me coming?"

More laughter erupted. The boy wiped tears from his eyes. "Forgive us, great Ancestor!"

Dax watched. His chest shook. Then the laugh escaped him — genuine, unguarded, surprised out of him by the sheer absurdity.

"Hahaha! You children are very bad."

Sapphire beamed up at him, her leaf-beard askew, her brown eyes bright with mischief.

He ruffled her hair, but his eyes had already returned to their work — analyzing. The children's auras painted themselves across his vision like constellations. He noted every flicker, every deviation from the norm.

His gaze lingered on Sapphire.

"Chocolate Princess is very strong," he said, voice light and teasing.

Sapphire drew herself up to her full, insignificant height. "My name is Sapphire, Uncle Chocolate." She nodded once, firmly, reintroducing herself with the solemnity of a diplomat. "Sapphire."

Dax's lips twitched. "Sapphire, then."

She nodded again, satisfied, and returned to stroking her leaf-beard.

In the distance, a child was running.

He was older than the others — six, perhaps seven — and he moved through the crowd with unnatural ease. His eyes were tightly shut. Yet he dodged between bodies, tables, and scattered toys as if he could see every obstacle perfectly.

His feet found the gaps. His shoulders twisted past reaching hands. Not a single stumble.

Dax straightened, eyes narrowing.

Origin Eyes.

The world shifted. Auras resolved into shape and structure. The boy's core blazed in his abdomen — small, but undeniably present.

"This child…" Dax's voice was low. "What is wrong with him?"

Sapphire looked up. Her leaf-beard fell away. "Caleb!"

She dropped her disguise and ran, small legs pumping as her voice cut across the courtyard.

At the last possible moment, the blind boy veered. His shoulder brushed past Sapphire's outstretched hand.

Sapphire skidded to a halt, spinning around with tears welling in her eyes.

He was already gone, weaving through the crowd with his eyes still closed, his path certain.

Dax watched him disappear.

He's blind.

The realization settled into him like a key turning in a lock. Blind, yet his core burned with the brightness of a child twice his age. Blind, yet he moved through chaos with perfect clarity.

How interesting. The best time to genetically modify a subject is during their growth stage.

His smile spread slowly — thin, precise, hungry.

Madeka appeared at his shoulder. She had been watching him watch the children. She leaned close, her lips brushing the curve of his ear.

"You haven't changed," she whispered.

Her breath was warm, her words knowing.

Across the courtyard, Nadia's hand tightened around her wine glass. Her eyes tracked the intimate space between Dax and Madeka with deep jealousy. She said nothing — she didn't need to. The tension in her jaw spoke volumes.

Dax was about to respond when a sharp, familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

Dax.

"Grandfather," Dax murmured as the old man's voice rang directly in his mind, direct and commanding.

"Report to the elders' meeting this moment."

The warmth of the festival seemed to recede at once. Dax's expression smoothed into something cold and unreadable.

He looked at Madeka and Nadia.

"It seems something has come up," he said calmly. "I'll return shortly."

He did not wait for an answer. He vanished.

Madeka and Nadia did not hesitate. They followed tightly behind.