****** [Billion’s PoV]
"Lord," Julius said again, a little more cautiously this time, "is there something wrong?"
For some reason, I couldn’t answer.
The words were right there. I had crossed half the Null Realm to find them. I had imagined this moment more times than I could count.
During long journeys, sleepless nights, and countless battles, I had replayed different versions of our reunion inside my head until I was sick of it.
In some of those fantasies, they recognized me immediately. In others, I had to convince them. Sometimes there were tears. Sometimes there was laughter. Sometimes there were questions that lasted for days.
Not once had I imagined myself standing there like an idiot, unable to form a complete sentence.
The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on me.
A few minutes ago, I had looked at four Peak Transcendent monsters and erased them from existence with a single word.
Now I was struggling to answer a simple question.
My gaze remained fixed on the two people standing inside the barrier.
My parents.
For years, they had existed only in memories. For years, I had believed I would never see them again.
Yet here they were.
And somehow that made everything infinitely harder.
The silence stretched longer.
I could feel the confusion spreading through the camp. Hundreds of eyes remained fixed on me. Questions filled the air. Speculation, curiosity and nervousness.
None of it mattered.
The only people I could focus on were standing directly in front of me. As a Saint, I could hear things that most people couldn’t.
Heartbeats.
Breathing.
The subtle shifts in muscle tension. I could hear my mother’s heart racing with emotion.
My father wasn’t much better.
His heartbeat remained controlled on the surface, but it was still far faster than it should have been. One of his hands had unconsciously curled into a fist so tightly that the knuckles had turned white.
They knew something. I guessed they had seen the resemblance.
I could see it in their eyes. I could hear it in their hearts. They recognized something familiar standing in front of them and neither of them understood why.
The realization hit me harder than any battle ever had. After all these years, they still remembered me.
The thought almost made me laugh. I had spent years worrying about whether they would recognize me.
What a stupid concern.
Of course they recognized something. Parents noticed things other people missed.
Even now, after years apart, after growing older, after changing beyond what I once thought possible, they had noticed immediately.
Not enough to believe. But enough to hope.
And that hope was exactly what terrified them. My eyes drifted toward my mother.
The years had changed her.
Of course they had.
Time changed everyone. Yet somehow she still looked exactly like I remembered.
The same eyes. The same expression she always wore whenever she was trying to solve a problem.
The same slight tilt of her head whenever something confused her. Even now she was staring at me that way.
Trying to understand. Trying to make sense of something impossible.
Now the person herself stood only a few dozen meters away. And for some reason, her eyes looked moist.
The sight nearly broke me. I wasn’t even sure she realized it. She simply continued staring at me while trying desperately to maintain composure.
As though some part of her already knew the truth while the rest of her refused to accept it.
My gaze shifted toward my father.
Julius Ironhart.
All I saw was my father. I remembered endless weapon lessons.
Countless corrections to my stance. The patient explanations whenever I made mistakes.
The family dinners. The celebrations. The lectures.
I found myself smiling despite everything. I had spent years imagining what it would feel like to see him again.
The reality was far worse. Because memories could be controlled.
Reality couldn’t.
Reality reminded me of everything I had lost. Everything I had missed.
Every year that had passed while we believed each other gone. For the first time in a very long while, I felt genuinely overwhelmed.
And that was saying something considering the life I had lived. Inside the barrier, Julius took another step forward.
His eyes never left me. There was caution in them and respect.
Confusion.
And something else.
Something he was trying very hard not to feel.
Hope.
That was the problem. Both of them wanted it to be true. They wanted it so badly that they couldn’t allow themselves to believe it.
Because believing meant risking disappointment. Believing meant reopening wounds that had never truly healed. Believing meant accepting the possibility that the impossible had happened.
No wonder they were struggling. I wasn’t doing much better.
"Lord?"
Julius asked again.
The title felt wrong. Painfully wrong. I had heard people call me many things over the years.
None of them sounded right coming from him.
For a brief moment, I considered simply telling them. The words should have been easy.
I’m alive.
It’s me.
I’m home.
Simple.
Instead my mind went completely blank.
How exactly was I supposed to tell parents who had separated from their son for so long?
There wasn’t exactly a guidebook for situations like this.
The longer I stood there, the more awkward the silence became. Eventually I realized I couldn’t keep staring forever.
People were beginning to get nervous. Julius looked thoroughly confused. My mother looked ready to either cry or attack someone.
Possibly both.
I opened my mouth.
"Umm..."
The sound escaped before I could stop it.
For a moment, nobody reacted. Then I felt a wave of embarrassment crash into me.
Brilliant.
Absolutely brilliant.
After everything I had accomplished, after all the impossible things I had survived, after making one of the most dramatic entrances in recent history, the first word I managed to say to my parents was "umm."
Outstanding.
Truly the response of a legendary Saint. To make matters worse, I could see the confusion on Julius’s face increasing.
Even my mother looked baffled.
Neither of them had expected the glowing, monster-erasing Saint to suddenly sound like a nervous teenager.
Honestly, neither had I.
I took a slow breath. The remaining Saint Soul Force surrounding my body began to recede.
Silver light faded from my skin.
The pressure blanketing the battlefield gradually disappeared. Around us, the camp grew quieter and quieter.
There was no point delaying this any longer. No clever speech was going to make the situation easier. No dramatic introduction would improve anything.
At some point, I simply had to say it.
My eyes met my mother’s.
Then my father’s.
For several seconds, none of us moved.
Then I finally spoke.
"Mom."
My voice came out softer than I intended.
My gaze shifted toward Julius.
I swallowed once.
Then smiled.
"Dad."
"It’s me Billion."