Charles woke slowly, blinking at the all-too-familiar gray ceiling above him. A hush filled the space; only his own soft heartbeat broke the silence. He began to rise, and his bare feet met the cold stone floor with a shiver.
Sitting on that plain wooden bed, he tried to piece together recent events: the Soulstone plunging into his chest, that sinister presence attempting to seize his identity. It was like the memory of a dreadful nightmare—so vivid, yet not quite dream-like enough to doubt.
He carefully checked over himself. No visible injuries or morphological changes. Lifting a hand, he touched the scar on his head—only to find it gone. His eyes went wide.
"What the…" he breathed, startled and disbelieving. The skin there was smooth, as though the wound had never been.
Though outwardly intact, he sensed something added deep within. Strange knowledge had taken root, melding seamlessly with his consciousness—almost as if it were a limb he'd always had.
He closed his eyes, attempting to tap into that knowledge. Immediately, he felt it: the brand-new power that Edward had mentioned. It wasn't theoretical now.
It was the Neuro-Melder power—the ability to steer or distort minds—not direct telepathy, but rather a capacity to redirect a person's thoughts in a matter of moments.
All at once, he grasped the potential uses:
He could make someone forget what they intended to do by injecting a momentary surge of mental confusion, halting that chain of thought.
He could cause someone to become fixated, saturating their mind with a single idea until they saw nothing else.
The information flowed into Charles's consciousness like an infant's first instincts—no instruction required. It was built into him now, ready to deploy.
He opened his eyes, letting his mind wander to the memories glimpsed during his Ascension. These recollections were murky, like fragments of a dream, but he could sense their importance. He saw fleeting images of three people—parents and a sister—enveloped in warmth and familial closeness, so unlike anything he had managed to recall. They felt like a loving family, the sort he'd never been able to picture.
From those misty mental snapshots, one detail stood out: his surname was Watson, inherited from his father. The revelation ignited an emotional stirring within him, though he still didn't know his actual first name. Even so, learning his family name felt like a tiny sliver of light guiding him out of the shadows of his missing past.
He sat, frowning slightly, probing that place in his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, the rest remained an empty void, as though it had never existed.
After a while, Charles exhaled heavily.
'No use…' he thought. 'Perhaps other memories will come back in time. Or maybe they'll emerge if I ascend to a higher rank.'
"Watson…" Charles murmured aloud, tentatively rolling that name off his tongue. Uttering it eased something in his chest, if only slightly.
"How're you feeling?"
Charles nearly jumped. He turned to see Joseph in the doorway, arms folded, posture relaxed but eyes still laced with concern.
Joseph walked closer, studying Charles's face and posture. "All right?" he asked, more seriously this time. "Any strange sensations? Anything off after your Ascension?"
Charles took a moment to re-evaluate his body and mind. Though he felt the peculiar weight of his new powers, there was no pain or apparent dysfunction.
"I…think I'm fine," he said slowly, rising from the bed to stretch out. "Feels like everything's under control."
Joseph eyed him carefully before nodding in relief. "Good. If anything does feel wrong, you have to tell me. Don't try to handle it alone. Got it?"
A slight grin tugged at Charles's lips, gratitude in his eyes. "Yes, I understand."
Joseph moved a chair from beside the table, settling down across from Charles. Though his posture was casual, his gaze was keen and unwavering.
"From now on, since you've become an Ascendant, the Special Division will keep close tabs on you," Joseph explained. "Some of your actions may be restricted—purely to ensure civilians aren't harmed by your powers."
Charles inclined his head, unsurprised and not offended. He understood how dangerous these abilities could be to ordinary people.
Joseph watched him for a moment. "Tell me—do you regret going through with this?"
Charles froze briefly, mind drifting to that moment of gulping the bitter blue liquid, that terrifying strike of the Soulstone. Then he recalled the fleeting glimpses of the family he'd lost, the knowledge that part of his memory now hovered just beyond his reach…
He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "No. I don't regret it."
'It was worth it,' he thought. 'If not for the Ascension, I'd never have even a sliver of these memories. I'd still be in the dark, not knowing who I am.'
Joseph, seeing that determined light in Charles's eyes, nodded in satisfaction. "Good. In that case, I'll walk you through the rest of what it means to be an Ascendant."
He paused, glancing at Charles as if assessing his readiness. "Also, Uncle Edward asked me to let you know you're free to resume active duties whenever you feel able."
Charles nodded without hesitation. "I'm ready."
Joseph's expression turned serious. "Then we'll start now. The details of an Ascendant's progression, the rules, the hazards—you need to know them inside out."
He cleared his throat. "There are three major 'ranks' of Ascension—Superhuman, Supernatural, and Grand Vitalis—each split into three smaller stages…"
Before Joseph could continue, Charles raised a hand, interrupting. "I already know that. Edward briefed me before."
Joseph's eyebrow lifted. "Oh? How much do you know?"
So Charles repeated everything Edward had once explained: the three major ranks, each subdivided into three stages. Joseph listened, face calm.
When Charles finished, Joseph nodded in quiet approval. "Well done. You've grasped the basics. I'll fill in what you don't know yet."
He shifted slightly. "Ascending each stage isn't easy. You have to deepen your mastery of the powers you currently hold, plus go through specific processes to absorb new essence from other beings."
"For the Superhuman rank," Joseph explained, "you have to find and absorb powers from fellow Ascendants using the same root power type. In your case, that's other Neuro-Melders, though ones with different specialized abilities—like someone who can manipulate dreams, or telepathy, or something along those lines."
Joseph paused. "Collect enough relevant powers, and you'll fully unlock your particular 'Superhuman' skillset. Only then can you start pushing toward the next rank."
He gave Charles a moment to take it in. "But remember," he continued, "each time you ascend, you essentially consume that new power so it becomes part of you. Your body needs to adjust before you push further, or you risk your own power devouring you. And if you try to skip any steps, well…you can guess how that ends."
He briefly let the warning sink in. "We'll talk about how you actually absorb the powers later."
Joseph then moved on. "At the Superhuman level, every time you elevate a stage, you'll need another body-adjustment drug—just like you had before. But you can't reuse the same potion or it'll stop working. Each step up requires a new formula."
"Now, once you reach the Supernatural rank," he added, "the process changes somewhat. You still have to find and absorb powers from Ascendants with your same power root, but you stop using standard body-adjustment drugs. Instead, it's more about reconfiguring your soul—or using specialized gear or magical rites that help merge your soul with the new power source."
Joseph's expression grew grim. "That's even riskier than the previous stage, as you're tampering with your spirit more deeply."
Finally, Joseph mentioned the highest rank: "As for Grand Vitalis…I don't know exactly how one crosses into that. Even the records we have are incomplete. No one's entirely sure what it takes."
He glanced at Charles. "Any questions?"
Charles shook his head; he knew there would be more explanation coming, so best to keep listening now.
Joseph pressed on. "A critical concept you must grasp is that ascending in rank isn't just about collecting powers; you have to truly assimilate those powers so they become part of you. That means training with them repeatedly, or studying your own abilities in depth, so your body and mind adapt."
Joseph shot Charles a pointed look. "For your new power—the Neuro-Melder—Uncle Edward wanted me to remind you: forcibly siphoning or manipulating others' consciousness helps you 'digest' the power faster, especially if it's done on other Ascendants. But watch yourself—using your power on normal civilians needlessly would brand you an outlaw among Ascendants. The special division you're part of would have to hunt you down."
He paused, gaze softening slightly with concern. "Finally, remember your power isn't limitless. Just as your body tires from physical strain, overusing your abilities can leave you vulnerable to that devouring aspect. If you push too far, you'll face a backlash. We can mitigate it with a special antidote the division provides every two weeks, to help you manage. You'll get it on schedule."
When Joseph finished speaking, he eyed Charles seriously. "You follow me so far?"
Charles mulled it over, then asked, "What if…if I start getting pulled under by the power and can't get that antidote? What should I do then?"
For a moment, Joseph was silent, weighing his answer. Then he spoke in a hushed, firm tone. "In that scenario, the only thing that can save you is the strength of your own mind. You have to find something—anything—that keeps you grounded. That's up to you alone. You need something deep to hold onto. Could be personal ideals, moral convictions—anything that matters enough to keep you grounded. Some people even cling to anger, rage, or intense desire to ride out that wave, if that's all they have."
Joseph's eyes flicked back to Charles's. "But it has to be potent enough to counter the power's instincts, to keep you mindful until the worst passes."
Charles frowned. "Wait. Isn't it true that if I can't satisfy the power's hunger, it'll just devour me wholesale?"
Joseph sighed. "That's only if you fully lose your mind to it. If you give in, letting the power consume you before you can respond—and can't control that craving in time—then yes, you'll lose yourself entirely. But if you hold on, stay conscious and fight back that urge, you can make it out. Eventually, it'll subside and you'll remain you."
Charles nodded, trying to take in the weighty information.
"Good," Joseph said. "Remember, this is more than theory—these are the iron rules you must follow. If you break them, not only do you endanger yourself, you threaten the people around you—and the human society we aim to protect."
Standing, Joseph gestured to the door. "Let's go. Time for the final test."
Charles turned to face the doorway. He understood immediately. He stepped out with a rush of complex emotions swirling inside. Stopping in the hallway, Charles peered at the corridor stretching out ahead.
Silence enveloped him as he gathered his thoughts, bracing himself for whatever might come next.
He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, focusing on the sensation in his own mind. He waited for the visions that had tormented him—the hallucinations that once plagued him—to return.
But no matter how long he waited, the corridor remained quiet. No whispered voices, no illusions creeping at the edges of his sight.
Bit by bit, his heart calmed. 'So it worked…' Charles thought, relief spreading through him as he realized, for the first time, that the dread illusions were gone.
"At last…" he murmured, his voice warm with genuine relief.
By becoming an Ascendant, he had rid himself of that lingering contamination from glimpsing a Grand Vitalis entity. The haunting visions were gone for good.