My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 807 Ironhart Lineage And Souls

"That's," he replied deliberately, "not an easy question to respond to." His eyes shifted beyond me for a moment, wandering over the vast sea as if the explanation lay hidden in recollections instead of speech.

"Yet if you're determined to halt the Eternal assault," he went on, "you'll need to overcome him."

I gazed at him intently.

"He's linked to the Eternals?"

Amun gave a nod.

He held off on explaining right away.

That affirmation by itself stirred waves in my mind. Each Eternal I'd confronted, every piece of their being I'd absorbed, every oddity tied to their aura—all of it now converged on one source.

Not some species, but an individual.

"Why did he claim he wiped out all the Ironharts?" I inquired. "And how could he manipulate my blood?" I posed the issue that had nagged at me since the start.

Amun hesitated.

The confection lingered midway from his fingers to his lips. For the first instance since our talk began, his face shed its relaxed demeanor. He breathed out softly and placed the sweet back on the dish without tasting it.

His azure eyes met mine once more, and as he resumed speaking, his tone lacked the prior playfulness.

"During the conflict for the Empty Throne, the Ironharts opposed him," Amun stated evenly. "Thus, he pursued and eliminated them."

He presented it plainly, without flair or gentle phrasing. He conveyed it like recounting an empire's downfall or a star's implosion—something unavoidable once the course was set.

"However, since you're here with me," he proceeded, eyes fixed on mine, "you realize the result wasn't total. Certain ones endured. Beyond the Ironharts alone. Numerous bloodlines thriving in the Prime Universe today stem from my original realm."

He eased back a bit, crossing his arms casually over his torso.

"The Ironharts weren't insignificant," he noted further. "Your forebears didn't just survive. They dominated. Galaxies yielded to their command. Their sway reached areas unknown to most societies."

His gaze sharpened subtly.

"I'd rank your heritage among the leading five of that time for accomplishments and reach. That by itself marked them as threats."

He stopped for a second.

"And considering you're here today, bearing that lineage, advancing this much… that's no trivial feat."

I mulled over his statements thoughtfully. The Ironharts hadn't begun in the Prime Universe. They'd hailed from another place.

From his realm.

A realm older than all I'd encountered.

"Do the Eternals originate from your home world?" I questioned.

He affirmed with a quick nod.

"Yes."

That verification clicked into position at once, matching all I'd noticed thus far. "How did he manage to command my blood?" I pressed.

Amun didn't reply straight off.

Rather, he selected another treat and examined it pensively prior to responding.

"Because he comprehended it," he explained. "He'd clashed with it previously."

He regarded me anew.

"Tell me," he urged. "How many visions have you witnessed from the book?"

"Two."

He inclined his head slightly.

"Well done. The third vision will reveal his talent."

His manner grew a touch graver.

"Once you witness it, you'll grasp why your blood reacted to him."

"Why are you two foes?" I queried once more.

He grinned.

"I'm not sharing that."

The straightforward denial felt nearly offensive.

I fought the sudden impulse to lunge over the table and wipe that serene look from his features.

"Why did he mention you're intending to hand me your role?" I asked in its place.

Amun lifted his shoulders nonchalantly, like the matter held little weight.

"How should I know his reasons for saying that?" he countered. "Ask him yourself."

He grabbed another sweet and nibbled it, utterly indifferent.

I watched him wordlessly. Oddly, despite Theras's actions and what he embodied, I found him simpler to handle than Amun. Theras was straightforward. Brutal. Upfront in his aggression. Amun concealed it all with composed grins and offhand remarks, as if no force in reality weighed on him.

He let out a gentle laugh, evidently discerning my inner turmoil from my look alone.

"Billion," he remarked, "do you recall when I mentioned knowing the location of your parents' souls?"

My face tightened right away.

I did recall.

In the chained realm, facing him without grasping his true nature, he'd uttered precisely that.

"You see," he elaborated, voice steady, "the Eternals can't seize Ironhart souls. They can annihilate forms. They can end lives. But essences like yours… they can't hold them. Your parents' souls remain secure. They persist in a place he can't touch."

He halted momentarily.

"And when you attain Saint," he declared, "I'll disclose the spot."

He rose from his seat and strolled several paces toward the boundless sea, hands clasped idly behind him while surveying the tranquil waters.

"The Theras you encountered wasn't the authentic one," he noted. "It was just an incarnation crafted from one droplet of his blood. Even in that constrained form, he overpowered you utterly."

No blame colored his words.

Merely fact.

"You ought to comprehend the implication," he added softly. "The adversary awaiting you ahead isn't that shard. It's the genuine article. And he's vastly stronger than what you saw."

He stayed quiet briefly before going on.

"He's my foe because I blocked him from claiming what he viewed as his due. I chose based on my sense of necessity. I acted on my conviction of justice. Yet he perceives it differently."

His tone eased a fraction.

"He's my brother," he revealed. "But he despises me with his entire being."

He faced me again.

"And he'll arrive."

Doubt was absent from his statement.

"He'll target the Prime Universe. He'll seek vengeance. He'll come for me."

His eyes held mine firmly.

"And he'll come for you."

I held his stare.

"You now bear the Executor authority," he stated. "And you possess Ironhart blood. To him, you symbolize the history he sought to obliterate and the destiny he can't dominate."

Those declarations weighed down on me profoundly.

"The System lacks the strength to thwart him," Amun went on. "Not upon his arrival in full form."

"Thus, on that fateful day," he concluded, "it falls to you."

Quiet lingered between us.

I examined his features closely.

"Won't you battle him?" I wondered.

He delayed his response.

Instead, he directed his sight back to the infinite ocean, stance serene, face inscrutable.

"I wish," he murmured.

And in that brief phrase, I detected an unforeseen element.

Regret.