Alex remained silent, his gaze unwavering. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the faint shimmer of IRyS's hair. His instincts screamed danger, yet a flicker of hope ignited within him. He'd sought answers for years, encountering only dead ends. Could this enigmatic Nephilim truly hold the key to his past?
Finally, Alex broke the silence, his voice low and gravelly: "Prove it."
IRyS's smile widened, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, but before I reveal your true origins…" she paused. "You perhaps know this tongue...?"
Alex was confused. Seeing his confusion, IRyS continued, speaking in a language unfamiliar to Alex, yet one he'd heard before.
IRyS then spoke a language Alex had never spoken, but only heard of. As he listened, his eyes widened in shock. This was the language from his scouter; he didn't understand it but recognized it.
"How did you learn to speak that language?" Alex asked, his shocked expression unchanged.
IRyS chuckled. "I'm guessing you've heard this language before, correct?"
Alex's surprised expression turned serious. "Yes, I know it—the same language from my scouter," he said coldly. "Now, tell me how you learned it and what it is."
IRyS's smile widened, amusement dancing in her eyes. She reached out, her long, elegant fingers touching his face, and kissed him. Alex was surprised by the unexpected kiss. He jumped back, wiped his lips, and his expression turned angry.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Alex demanded.
IRyS raised a hand. "Relax, Alex, this is part of revealing your true origins," she said with a mischievous grin.
Unfazed by his anger, IRyS smiled. "That language you heard is an ancient one, long forgotten."
Alex's expression remained unchanged. "An ancient language? What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
IRyS nodded. "Yes, an ancient language. Now listen carefully, because I will only say it once…" She spoke the language again, her voice a silken whisper. As Alex listened, his eyes widened in shock; he understood.
Still shocked, Alex exclaimed, "How is this possible? What kind of power is this? What magic did you use, Nephilim?" His expression was angry.
IRyS shook her head. "No magic. It's an ability of your people, the Sakarian language."
"The Sakarian language?" Alex said, his shock unchanged.
"Correct. Your people, the Sakarians, possess the unique ability to linguistically assimilate through physical contact, most commonly kissing. This allows instant mastery of any language through contact with a speaker. It also enables instant comprehension of the language's alphabet," IRyS explained.
Alex stared at IRyS, the revelation hitting him like a physical blow. The Sakarians—a race he'd never known—were his ancestors. He'd spent years searching for his origins, consulting many oracles, only to have the answer revealed in such an intimate manner. His anger simmered, replaced by a dizzying mix of awe and disbelief. Before Alex could speak, IRyS continued.
"But there's also a downside to this unique ability," she explained.
Surprised, Alex asked, "What do you mean?"
"This ability only functions if a Sakarian kisses someone of the opposite gender. It won't work with the same gender," IRyS explained.
Alex frowned. "So, you're saying I have to kiss a woman to instantly learn her language and alphabet?" He found the idea awkward, especially given his lack of interest in romantic relationships with women.
IRyS chuckled, a melodic sound both amused and sympathetic. "Indeed. The Sakarians, being a warrior race, weren't known for affection; they primarily used this ability as a communication tool," she explained. "Though, I suppose you could easily kiss any woman you want. You are quite handsome and muscular, after all." She added with a giggle.
Alex frowned, finding her flirtatiousness more annoying than amusing. "Spare me the flirtation," he said, annoyed, as IRyS continued to giggle.
(Author's Note: The Sakarians are a combination of Kryptonians (DC Comics), Viltrumites (Invincible), and Saiyans (Dragon Ball Z). They possess all the powers of those races: Kryptonian abilities (including solar energy absorption), Viltrumite abilities, and Saiyan abilities and transformations (including Great Ape and Super Saiyan forms). The Sakarian equivalent of the Saiyan Great Ape transformation is lycanthropy—transformation into werewolves or lycans.
While combining these three races, Sakarians lack the original races' weaknesses. They have no inherent weaknesses, though stronger opponents can still defeat them. They also possess unique abilities, including lunar energy absorption (requiring lycanthropy transformation for a power boost) and the ability to learn and write any language by kissing someone of the opposite gender. They can also experience a frenzied state upon smelling blood, which boosts their powers (this also requires lycanthropy transformation for a power boost).
Ignoring IRyS's continued giggling, Alex focused on the implications of her words. The Sakarian ability, while undeniably useful, presented a significant social hurdle. He wasn't interested in casually kissing women to learn languages; the thought was profoundly uncomfortable. He needed a different solution.
"Is there any other way?" Alex asked, his tone sharper than intended.
IRyS, her expression unchanged, said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's no other way to learn a language without lip contact. That ability is inherent to the Sakarian race. You have no choice but to kiss a woman to learn her language and alphabet."
Alex slumped back, the weight of his predicament heavy upon him. The idea of randomly kissing women to acquire linguistic skills was utterly repulsive. He wasn't a womanizer, nor did he possess the social skills to navigate such a situation gracefully. The warrior aspect of his heritage resonated far more strongly than the inherent social awkwardness of his unique ability.
"This is… less than ideal," Alex muttered, facepalming. He couldn't go around kissing every woman he encountered; the social ramifications would be disastrous. He valued his dignity too much. "There has to be another way," Alex said, his expression annoyed. "A less intimate approach."
IRyS tilted her head, her amusement fading slightly. "Well, you could try the old-fashioned way—study languages. That might work for Earth languages," she said. "Although, I don't know if you can learn alien or non-human languages just by studying them," she added, tapping her chin. "I think you really need to kiss them to learn their language." She said this in a teasing tone.
Alex sighed in annoyance. He hated the idea that he couldn't learn alien languages simply by reading and studying them. He had learned some Earth languages in the monastery, but learning alien languages required kissing random women.
The revelation hung heavy and unexpected in the air. Alex, the Forsaken monk, the warrior of immense power, was a Sakarian. The name resonated with a deep, primal chord within him, a feeling of homecoming mixed with the overwhelming weight of untold millennia. He felt the echoes of a history far grander than anything he could have imagined, stretching back to the dawn of creation itself.
With a serious expression, Alex looked at IRyS and said, "Tell me more about my origins, the Sakarian race." His voice was filled with determination.
IRyS nodded, her eyes gleaming with almost predatory amusement. "Very well, Alex Garcia, you're a Sakarian, from planet Sakar…"
"Planet Sakar…" Alex murmured, a surprised expression on his face.
"You wonder why you outlived your brothers, hmm, Alex? Because you're a Sakarian," IRyS said. "The Sakarian race can live for thousands of years…"
Alex whispered, "Thousands of years?" The enormity of the statement settled upon him like a physical weight. A human lifespan felt insignificant in comparison. He looked at IRyS, his eyes wide with wonder and dawning comprehension. "So... that explains why I feel… different."
"Indeed, that's the lifespan of your people, Alex," IRyS confirmed softly. "Sakarians can live exceptionally long lives. Sakarian males and females age similarly to humans during their teenage years, but after reaching their late teens, their ageing rate slows to about 50 percent of a human's, allowing them to significantly outlive humans. You outlived your brothers, even growing up alongside them, because you are not human; you are a Sakarian, Alex Garcia."
Hearing this, Alex found IRyS's revelation both shocking and true. He had outlived all his brothers despite growing up together. He was 100 years old yet appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He hadn't aged at all.
IRyS continued, her eyes gleaming with almost predatory amusement. "Planet Sakar… a world lost to time, a civilization shattered by a conflict that shook the very foundations of existence. Long before Earth and other life forms existed—460 nine eons ago, even before the Sakarian Empire was formed, or the planet was named Sakar—two species inhabited the planet: lycans and werewolves. They were among the cosmos's first life forms. A catastrophic turning point occurred when these two races engaged in a devastating war, the Bloody War. Each species, naturally aggressive and warrior-like, strived for dominance, waging a ruthless, barbaric conflict."
IRyS continued, explaining the war. "The conflict stemmed from the lycans' belief in their superiority, viewing werewolves as lesser beings. This belief was rooted in the lycans' ability to control their transformations, making them potentially stronger and more controlled than werewolves, who were often forced to transform by the full moon and were seen as wild and uncontrollable, although they could also train to control their transformations. However, the werewolves proved capable of rivaling the lycans in power and strength. Their home planet became the battlefield, with conflicts raging across it."
"The war," IRyS continued, her voice dropping to a low, almost reverent whisper, "lasted for eons, reshaping the very landscape of Sakar and leaving scars that even time couldn't fully erase. Both sides suffered unimaginable losses, their numbers dwindling, and their strength waning."
Then, IRyS spoke of Daikon, the werewolf leader. "Unlike his comrades, Daikon possessed a righteous heart. He existed long before the planet was called Sakar and was the first to awaken the Legendary Sakarian transformation—a power the Sakarians themselves call the Legendary Sakarian God (the real name is Legendary Sakarian). He awakened this transformation after witnessing the deaths of his comrades, driven by his desire to end the war," IRyS continued, her expression turning serious.
"With this power, Daikon saved his comrades and single-handedly defeated the lycans. Despite his comrades urging him to kill them all, he refused, believing it unrighteous to kill a defeated warrior," IRyS said.
She then spoke of Radigon, the lycan leader. "Radigon, possessing a wicked heart, was the second to awaken the Legendary Sakarian God, doing so out of necessity. He challenged Daikon to a death battle; the winner would determine the fate of the Sakarian race. Their battle ended in a stalemate, with both dying. The remaining lycans and werewolves reached a fragile truce, a tenuous peace born of mutual devastation. This ended the war and united the two species, who then called themselves Sakarians and their planet, Planet Sakar." IRyS looked at Alex. "Not long after, they named their empire the Sakarian Empire. They are now renowned as the strongest and most technologically advanced race in the universe," she concluded.
Alex stared, speechless, at IRyS. The weight of this revelation pressed down on him, a physical burden mirroring the emotional turmoil within. He, a warrior who had spent centuries honing his skills, a monk who had sought enlightenment through solitude, was a descendant of this ancient, brutal, yet magnificent history. He felt a kinship with Daikon, a respect for his mercy, and a chilling recognition of the darkness that still lingered in the Sakarian bloodline—a darkness hinted at in his own occasional bursts of uncontrolled rage.
"And what happened then?" Alex asked, his voice barely a whisper. A terrible presentiment, a gut-wrenching feeling that he already knew the answer, washed over him.
IRyS continued. "Even united as Sakarians, they remained ruthless, barbaric, and merciless, naturally aggressive warrior races. They conquered countless planets, realms, dimensions, and even multiverses to expand their empire, enslaving other races throughout the cosmology. This included the high heavens, realm of the angels, and the burning hells, realm of the demons. The Sakarians were feared throughout the cosmology for their unmatched military experience and prowess and their highly superior advanced technologies." She added, "The only difference between the lycans and werewolves was that the lycans had long, hairless, grey tails and naturally white hair, while the werewolves had long, brown, hairy tails and naturally black hair."
A chill crawled down Alex's spine. Then, noticing his own white hair and long, hairless, grey tail, he realized he was a lycan, not a werewolf. The image of Radigon, his ancestor, the powerful, terrifying lycan leader, clashed violently with his self-image as a Forsaken/Warrior monk fighting for justice and honor. He'd thought he was related to Daikon, but it turned out he was related to Radigon. Even so, his respect for Daikon's kindness remained. The weight of his legacy, the brutality of his own race, pressed upon him with crushing force. He had always felt a disconnect, a darkness within himself he couldn't understand. Now, he understood: it was the echo of millennia of conquest, a blood-soaked heritage flowing in his veins.
"So, you're saying I'm a lycan, like Radigon...?" Alex said, looking down with a disgusted expression.
IRyS nodded, her expression somber. "Yes, you are a lycan. The Sakarian transformation—lycanthropy—is not limited to a single species. It's a genetic trait inherent in both lycans and werewolves from birth. While werewolves' lycanthropy is awakened by a full moon, lycans are awakened by extreme circumstances, a desperate need to survive and protect." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "Your disgust is understandable. Your ancestors' actions were monstrous. But understanding the past doesn't excuse it; it allows you to learn from it, to break the cycle of violence."
Daikon's righteous heart reflected a benevolent soul, while Radigon's wickedness twisted the same potential into a destructive force. "Your lineage, your inherent nature... it leans towards Radigon's path, but that doesn't define you, Alex. The choice, the path you take, remains yours," IRyS said. "You might be connected to Radigon, but that doesn't mean you must walk the same path as your lycan ancestors."
Alex looked down at his hands, tracing the lines of his palms. He felt a strange mixture of revulsion and fascination. The legacy of conquest, the potential for immense power, both terrified and intrigued him. The weight of expectation, the burden of his heritage, felt less like a crushing weight and more like a challenge. He wasn't defined by his ancestors' brutality; he could shape his own destiny. He looked up, his eyes still clouded with shock and revulsion. "But what can I do? How can I possibly atone for the sins of my ancestors?"
IRyS smiled sadly. "Atonement isn't about erasing the past, Alex, but about shaping the future. The Sakarians inflicted unimaginable suffering; your atonement lies in preventing such atrocities from ever happening again. You possess the power, the potential, to be far greater than your ancestors, to use the Sakarian transformation not for conquest but for protection."
A cold resolve hardened within Alex. The weight of his heritage, once a crushing burden, now felt like a mantle of responsibility. He wouldn't erase his ancestors' sins, but he would fight to ensure they were never repeated. He would dedicate himself to a higher purpose, to use his power to protect, not to conquer.
"But if I'm a Sakarian, why am I on Earth?" he asked, his voice stronger now, a newfound purpose ringing in his tone. "Why was I found on the holy grounds of the Forsaken monks?"
IRyS, understanding his question, didn't hesitate. "Your mother, the Sakarian queen, Queen Melonia, sent you to Earth as a baby…" Alex's eyes widened in shock. IRyS continued, "Remember the pod you were found in, the green scouter embedded in your left eye, and the alien language you hear when you activate your broken scouter? That was your mother communicating with you. There's a reason for all of that."
Alex frowned. "What do you mean, there's a reason for all of this?" His voice was cold.
IRyS saw the seriousness on Alex's face. "Remember earlier when I said the Sakarians conquered countless planets, realms, and dimensions? Well, they found their match when they tried to conquer a specific realm called Eden…"
Alex's surprised expression replaced his serious one. "What? The Sakarians found their match?"
IRyS continued. "When the Sakarians, having conquered the high heavens and the burning hells, thought they could easily conquer Eden, they discovered it was the realm of the Nephilim." Her expression turned serious as she met Alex's gaze. His eyes widened at the mention of the Nephilim.
"The Nephilim," IRyS continued, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, "were beings of immense power, ancient and enigmatic. Offspring of Angels and Demons, they wielded the power of both the high heavens and the burning hells. They rivaled the Sakarians, resisting their invasion. This sparked a war that spanned creation—the War of the Ancients."
Alex listened intently, absorbing IRyS's words. He knew of the Nephilim's power from legends, but he hadn't known about the war that had ravaged creation.
"The war was devastating," IRyS said, her voice laced with a somber tone. "It tore apart worlds, leaving behind scars that echo even now. Both sides wielded terrible power, capable of shaping reality itself. The Sakarians, with their brutal efficiency and overwhelming numbers, clashed against the Nephilim's raw, unpredictable might. Neither side could gain a decisive victory." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "It was a stalemate, a bloody, unending conflict that threatened to consume all of existence."
IRyS added, "And the irony is that the Nephilim, just defeated the high heavens and the burning hells, took Eden as their home, killing and slaughtered all its previous inhabitants."
A shiver ran down Alex's spine. The scale of the conflict was almost incomprehensible. He, a single individual, was connected to this ancient, devastating war. "So you're telling me that your race fought my race?" His voice grew cold.
IRyS, seeing his curiosity, said, "Yes, they did fight."
"So you're saying, 'I'm a Sakarian prince who was sent to Earth by my mother, the queen of the Sakarians'," Alex said, piecing together IRyS's words.
"Yes, that's correct," IRyS said, nodding towards Alex. "You are the prince of the Sakarian race."
"Then, what happened to my father, the Sakarian king? What happened to him, and what's his name?" Alex said, looking at IRyS with a serious expression.
IRyS's expression turned somber. "Your father… King Theron… was killed during the War of the Ancients. He died on the battlefield leading his strongest Sakarian super-elite soldiers toward Eden. It was a brutal, desperate battle. He fell as a true warrior, carrying the honor and legacy of Planet Sakar within him." A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a slow tribute to Alex's father. "But when your mother heard that her king had fallen, your mother, Queen Melonia, carrying you—still an infant—fled to the Sakarians' underground escape pods. She knew Sakar was no longer safe for you, a prince destined to continue the Sakarians' legacy. She sent you to Earth, hoping you would grow up stronger and free from the bloodshed and hatred that defined your heritage. Before you were even far from your planet, Planet Sakar was destroyed, killing every Sakarian, including your mother."
Alex was shocked that his parents had been killed. He'd assumed a Nephilim had killed his father, but he couldn't help but ask IRyS. "So, the Nephilim killed my father?"
IRyS shook her head. "No, it wasn't a Nephilim. None of my brothers and sisters could kill your father. He was one of the most powerful Sakarians who ever lived. He could single-handedly kill an army of Nephilim."
"Then why are you telling me all of this? You're a Nephilim, aren't you? Don't tell me you came into my consciousness to kill me." Alex addressed IRyS directly.
IRyS's expression turned angry. "Because the higher Gods ordered the extinction of the Nephilim—my brothers and sisters… They destroyed them all, viewing the Nephilim as cursed creations, unholy offspring of Angels and Demons."
Alex stared, the implications of IRyS's words settling heavily upon him. The higher Gods, the beings supposedly benevolent and all-powerful, had orchestrated the genocide of the Nephilim.
IRyS continued. "Not only the Nephilim, but also your race, the Sakarians, were targeted. The Nephilim's unimaginable power, holding the might of both the high heavens and the burning hells, and the Sakarians' unmatched lycanthropic transformations posed a threat to the higher Gods. Their interference ended the War of the Ancients between our races," IRyS added. "And they were the ones who killed your father and destroyed Planet Sakar."
Silence hung heavy between them. The revelation struck Alex: the higher Gods, not the Nephilim, were responsible for the destruction of his planet and the death of his parents. The weight of this new knowledge pressed down on Alex, a crushing burden added to the already immense weight of his heritage. He felt a surge of cold, righteous fury. The supposedly benevolent deities had committed genocide, and he, their unwilling pawn, was left to grapple with the consequences. He also acknowledged that the near-extinction of his people was perhaps a necessary consequence, given the Sakarians' threat to the cosmology.
"So," Alex finally said, his voice low and dangerous, "the higher Gods… they're the real villains of this story."
IRyS nodded, her gaze distant, lost in the echoes of a past she couldn't change. "They feared the power of the Nephilim and the Sakarians. They saw us as threats, uncontrollable forces that could upset their carefully balanced cosmology. They acted, not out of justice, but out of fear and a desire to maintain control."
"So," Alex said, his voice low and dangerous, "they wiped out the Nephilim… and also my own race, the Sakarians. And my mother… she sent me to Earth to…"
"To survive," IRyS finished, her voice barely a whisper. "To ensure that the Sakarian legacy, the lycan bloodline, would not be completely extinguished. Queen Melonia foresaw the higher Gods' actions and their intervention in the war, knowing that both Sakarians and Nephilim threatened the very fabric of creation. She sent you away to a world where you could grow, learn, and perhaps… one day… fight back."
The revelation struck Alex like a physical blow. He wasn't just a warrior monk; he was a survivor, a seed of rebellion planted on a distant world. He wasn't just carrying the weight of his ancestors' sins; he was carrying the torch of their legacy, a legacy of defiance against unimaginable tyranny.
To be continued.