The memories of the Void came to a pause once again, and the scenes within the Heart of Tiberius's pocket dimension remained obscured. Susan Morrow could vaguely sense this. As each fragment of memory unlocked, as her psychic link grew stronger, she knew she’d eventually witness what transpired in that otherworldly space. And the moment she could trace the original face of that dimension in her memory, would be the moment she’d find a way to cross the void and pinpoint the Heart of Tiberius.
On the other side of the Earth, the Eternal Night was mobilizing at full throttle. Every faction was activated, scrambling to strategize their next move. They had to race against the 'Divine' and the forces behind it, and find a way to overtake them before every loophole was sealed shut.
That’s not easy.
Based on current intel, it’s as if the name Tiberius Technologies never existed—completely wiped from history. Every lead was severed, and even the few people the old aunts vaguely remembered were erased without a trace.
But Jill Young trusted her own crew’s skills. All she needed to do now was adjust her mindset and wait patiently.
In the desert, a bonfire blazed. The whooshing night wind swept across the sands, fanning tongues of flame three feet high and scattering sparks far into the distance.
By the fire, Jonathan Black looked at Jill Young. After a moment’s silence, he spoke: "Well?"
The question was vague, but Jill Young knew exactly what her cousin was getting at.
She took a deep breath and raked her fingers through her hair, troubled: "Hey, it’s hard to say. Zade Senior—he’s tough to read. Even after seeing two of Aunt Joan’s memories, he’s still shrouded in mystery. He’s complicated, has many sides, and honestly, I can’t tell which face is the real one, or which look or word reveals his true intent. All I can say is, he and Aunt Joan did have feelings for each other. But how deep those feelings went, and whether he really had anything to do with her death—that’s anyone’s guess."
"Hmm..." Jonathan Black was silent for a long time, poking at the fire as the wood crackled and popped.
Jill Young knew deep down that Jonathan Black couldn’t accept Donald Zade’s story. If there was even a sliver of hope, no one would believe their own father killed their mother. It’s just too cruel, too cold.
Who can say what’s really hidden in the shadows of history? From the memories she’d seen so far, Adam Zade had absolutely no reason to kill Joan Morrow.
But Jill Young’s gaze sharpened, and that fierce look flashed in her mind again.
Words felt lacking; even 'fierce' didn’t quite capture what Jill Young was feeling now.
She knew she could be fierce too—her stare could be harsh, her smile downright wicked. But Adam’s look was different. Absolutely different.
While she was lost in thought, Jonathan Black spoke up again: "I know that too. In my memories, that guy was always impossible to figure out."
"Tell me about it?"
"Sure." Jonathan Black had never talked this much before, but tonight, he just kept pouring it all out.
In his recollection, his childhood was nothing but a cold, forbidding old mansion; a bunch of proud, fanatic, self-important siblings; brutal, relentless training and study; and squads of guards who stared with robotic indifference. There was no such thing as father-son or father-daughter affection between Zade Senior and his children.
He was colder than the harshest iron-fisted emperor, more chilling than anyone could imagine. Forget love or companionship—if you weren’t good enough, you’d never even see his face. For the young Zades, being summoned by Zade Senior was the highest honor. It meant you had some extraordinary talent. It meant you were valuable.
Those who really didn’t measure up would quietly disappear from the training camp after a while. No one ever mentioned them or remembered them.
Jonathan Black wasn’t outstanding, but he wasn’t the worst either. Honestly, he excelled in quite a few areas, but he’d never been summoned. Even that loser Donald Zade got summoned twice, which is probably why Donald looked down on Jonathan so much.
The one and only time Jonathan Black was summoned was when he was seven. He was led into a grand hall, facing a huge floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, towering snowy peaks reflected a harsh, cold light under the sun. In that blinding white glare, young Jonathan stood silent, expressionless, and unshielded—like a lone wolf, staring coldly ahead.
In front, a massive desk. Behind it, an old but imposing chair. The chair faced away from the door, so Jonathan never saw the person sitting there. All he could make out was an elbow resting on the armrest, the owner propping up their chin, lost in thought.
To young Jonathan, all of this felt like a giant, heavy black mountain pressing down, blotting out everything else—his eyes fixed on that ever-growing shadow.
Soon, the person in the chair seemed to wave a hand. The attendant beside him read out the decision: After Jonathan finished his training, he’d be sent to Hong Kong.
Hong Kong’s a nice place, but for the Zade Family’s power map, going there was basically exile.
In their one and only meeting, Zade Senior didn’t say a single word, didn’t even look at him—like this son didn’t matter at all.
"From start to finish, all I saw was the back of a chair. No voice, no face, no other interaction. So, father-son feelings? I really don’t get it." At this point, Jonathan suddenly thought of something, turning to Jill Young: "Hey, what’s a normal dad supposed to be like? What’s a normal father-son or father-daughter relationship?"
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Jonathan Black really wanted to know.
"A normal dad, huh..." Jill Young squinted, digging through her memories, then suddenly burst out laughing and flopped onto the sand with her head on her arm. She gazed at the planets above, eyes full of warmth.
Her memories flashed back twenty-six years, to when John Yang had just become a father. Newborns can’t see far, can’t hear clearly, but John’s tenderness and care went beyond sight and sound.
She remembered when the baby was born, how John Yang was so nervous—wanting to hold him, afraid to hold him, not wanting to let go.
She remembered how John Yang stayed by his wife’s side day and night, comforting her through extreme pain with his gentle words.
She remembered John Yang putting the baby in the sun to lower his jaundice, massaging him with warm hands.
She remembered when the baby developed the bad habit of waking up whenever he was put down, how John Yang spent whole nights holding the ten-pound kid just so he could sleep soundly—his heartbeat and arms so reassuring.
She remembered her dad, who usually cared a lot about his image, making all kinds of silly faces and animal noises just to make his son laugh—dancing around like a total goofball, not caring how he looked.
He didn’t have a fancy background or supernatural money-making skills, couldn’t take them traveling the world. But what he gave was worth far more than family status or cash. Sure, he’d scold harshly, even discipline strictly, and catch you red-handed—but as a dad... he was really great.
"I don’t know if my dad counts as a 'normal dad,' but I know for sure he’s a really good one. Maybe he has many sides, but every side is wonderful." Jill Young wiped her nose, glowing with pride. "Honestly? Your dad is nowhere near as good as mine!"
Seeing Jill Young’s face glowing with happiness, Jonathan Black paused, then gave a wry smile: "Yeah, that I can totally believe." Feeling complicated, Jonathan shook his head, stood up, and quickly walked away: "I’m gonna see if there’s any news from Apollo."
Jill Young didn’t move, just lay there with her legs crossed, swinging her foot. Then she turned her head: "So, aren’t you supposed to vent a little yourself?"
In the direction she looked, Qi Meng appeared, dreamlike and graceful. The cold-faced Valkyrie strode over, her expression icy. As soon as she saw Jill, she was instantly annoyed: "What could I possibly have to say to you? You pawned off taking care of Mom on me—don’t you feel guilty?"
"Hey, it’s not like you’re not stronger than me. I’m only good at fighting—mental care is your thing. Besides, my mom’s basically your mom, right? Okay, maybe not yet, but soon. You just called her ‘Mom’ a minute ago!"
"Look at you, shameless as ever!" Qi Meng shot out a kick—a classic iron sand move.
A few grains of sand hit her, but it didn’t matter—Qi Meng hadn’t used any real force. Still, with sand in her face, Jill Young instantly clutched her eyes and rolled away, wailing: "Aaaah, my eyes! My eyes! I’m going blind!"
Watching her roll around like a pro scam artist, Qi Meng was about to explode: "Get up!"
"Fine, I’m up." Jill Young scrambled to her feet, eyes shut, hands groping everywhere—always aiming for the weak spots: "If I grab anything, just forgive me, I’m blind."
Smack—Qi Meng swatted away her wandering hands, feeling her patience run thin: "Quit messing around!"
Jill Young squinted and leaned in: "Then blow on them for me."
Faced with this stubborn troublemaker, Qi Meng could only grit her teeth and take a deep breath: "Fine, I’ll blow for you—!"
Whoosh—the wind swept over the desert, crackling as it stirred the grass.
Sparks from the bonfire flew, drifting far into the distance.
And in that faraway place where the sparks landed, another fierce storm was about to rise.