Legacy of the Void Fleet

Chapter 81  ch78 the confusion

I didn't know how to explain it. But I felt it.

Call it a mother's intuition or whatever you will.

And for me, that was enough.

Which was why… his words confused me even more.

....

[Kallus POV]

I exhaled deeply, gathering my thoughts. There was no way out of this, and I knew it. Without a shred of hesitation, I began speaking.

"My previous life…" I started, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Yes, I know it sounds strange, but it's important for you to understand. At the very least, it will give you a picture of what's happening."

I looked at my parents, their expressions filled with confusion, but they didn't interrupt me. They simply waited, listening.

And so, I began from the very beginning. I told them about my past life—one that had been both beautiful and fulfilling, at least until I turned sixteen. As I spoke, I noticed something peculiar—though perhaps not so strange after all. Everything I described felt familiar to them as if this world's Kallus had lived almost the same life as I did.

From the memories I had gathered, our experiences growing up were nearly identical, with only one or two small differences. It was no wonder my story resonated with them.

But they remained silent, even as their confusion deepened. I could tell they were wondering why I was telling them about my childhood, yet they didn't stop me. I nodded in acknowledgment and continued, giving them a brief description of my early years.

Everything was good… until I turned sixteen.

That was the year I lost my family. My beautiful and gentle mother. My strict yet caring father.

My voice wavered for a moment, emotions threatening to take over, but I forced myself to press on. I told them how, after their deaths, I tried to live with dignity, believing they were watching over me from the stars. But without them, I had no real motivation. I kept my distance from people, shutting myself away from the world.

At that moment, my mother, unable to bear it any longer, interrupted me.

"What are you talking about, son?" she asked, her voice trembling, tears threatening to spill.

I turned to look at her. She was confused, but more than that, I could feel her inner turmoil. She wanted to deny my words, yet deep down, she knew I was telling the truth.

"But I'm alive," she continued, her voice shaking. "Your father—Noah—is alive. So why are you saying we died when you were sixteen?"

I met her gaze and tried to smile, though it felt forced. I wanted to reassure her, but there was no easy way to do this.

"Let me finish, Mother," I said gently. "Only then will everything make sense."

Seeing my mother nod, I took a deep breath and continued my story.

I recounted the event that changed everything—a moment that seemed ordinary yet turned out to be fateful, at least for me.

One second, I was lost in darkness, unconscious. The next, I woke up aboard the Obliterator-class Star Dreadnought. My first encounter with the Red Empress. The unbearable headache that struck me like a tidal wave.

Of course, I didn't describe it as painful—I simply said it was far from ordinary. But what I didn't tell them was the real truth behind it.

The pain had been caused by something far greater: I was receiving the memories and experiences of my other variants from different realities. Their knowledge, emotions, pain, and happiness—all of it surged into me at once. But before I could absorb them fully, the sheer volume became too much for me to handle.

Back then, my soul was unweakened. If I had tried to take everything in at once, my very existence would have crumbled under its weight.

That was when a supreme being intervened. It sealed those memories deep within me, locking them away until I was strong enough to access them on my own. Even now, I had no idea of their full extent.

I chose not to reveal this part to my parents. Instead, I explained it in simpler terms—I told them that, somehow, I possessed the memories and expertise of the versions of me that existed across countless realities.

However, I made one thing clear: my consciousness was the dominant one.

"I am the core," I said firmly. "The one who remains."

In essence, I assured them that the Kallus of this universe and I were one and the same. There was little—if any—difference between us.

Or perhaps, not even physically.

"The only real difference," I continued, "is that my consciousness prevailed. The me of this universe has fully become me, just as I have fully become him. But in the end… I am still who I am."

At least, that was what I had been told.

I let those words settle, watching my mother and father as they processed the weight of my confession

....

[Amelia's POV]

Though confused, I still listened to Kallus.

At first, his words were hard to grasp, but when he began recounting his childhood, my confusion only deepened. Everything he spoke of was eerily familiar, almost identical to the memories I held.

I turned to my husband, only to see him looking at me with the same bewilderment I felt. But neither of us interrupted. Kallus had asked us to listen, saying it was important. So we did.

As he continued, describing his past in vivid detail, I couldn't help but recall those same moments—the happy memories we had shared. For a brief moment, my fluctuating emotions stabilized as I relived those cherished times.

However, I soon noticed something strange.

There were slight discrepancies—events that didn't quite match my memories. They were rare, small details that seemed misplaced, as if he had simply forgotten and mixed them up. At first, I dismissed them as lapses in memory.

But then, my expression changed.

Because Kallus said something impossible.

He spoke of losing us—his parents—in an accident when he was sixteen.

My breath caught in my throat.

That made no sense. I was alive. My husband, Noah, was alive. We were both here, right in front of him.

For a moment, I thought something terrible had happened to his memory. Maybe he had suffered some kind of trauma. Maybe he was remembering things wrong.

And yet… the way he spoke, the emotions in his voice… It all felt too real. As if it had actually happened.

Tears welled in my eyes and began to fall. I could feel his pain as if it were my own. And it was unbearable.

Unable to take it anymore, I finally spoke.

"What are you talking about, son? I'm alive," I said, my voice trembling. A part of me still clung to denial, refusing to believe the feeling in my heart.

"Your father, Noah, is alive. So why… why are you saying we died when you were sixteen?"

I wanted to say more—wanted to scold him, tell him that if this was a joke, it was cruel.

But when I looked into his eyes… I couldn't.

Because there was no trace of humor in them.

Only pain.

I looked at him as he focused on me, his expression unreadable yet filled with something I couldn't quite grasp.

But when he heard my question, I saw it.

Pain.

He tried to hide it—tried to force a reassuring smile. It was the same smile he always gave when things were tough, the same mask he had worn as a child when he didn't want me to worry.

That realization made my emotions, which had barely stabilized moments ago, spiral into turmoil once more.

Then, he spoke.

"Let me finish, Mother," he said gently. "Only then will everything make sense."

I wanted to say more. To question him. To tell him that none of this made sense, that what he was saying couldn't possibly be real.

But when I met his gaze… I fell silent.

Because I needed to know.

I needed to understand why his words felt so real—why my heart told me they were true, even when my mind insisted they were not.

So, I let him continue. ...

[Noah's POV]

...

I listened to my wife's question, which mirrored my own confusion. But when he asked to continue, and seeing that my wife—his mother—didn't stop him, I, too, held back. I didn't interrupt.

I wanted answers.

Yet, the more he spoke, the deeper my confusion grew.

Darkness.Unconsciousness.An Obliterator-class Star Dreadnought.The Red Empress.Memories and experiences of his variants across different realities.The him of this universe.

I clenched my fists as my mind tried to piece together his words.

What the hell is going on?

While I was still trying to make sense of everything, he continued.

"I am the core," he said firmly. "The one who remains."

His words were meant to reassure us—that he and Kallus were the same. But instead of easing my mind, they only deepened my confusion.

I struggled to understand, to grasp any of it. But how could I? This was beyond anything rational—beyond human perception itself.

And when he finally finished speaking and stood there in silence, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, my voice rising. "Some dreadnought? The Red Empress? Memories and experiences from other versions of yourself across different realities? 'The one who remains'? 'The core'?"*

I shook my head, frustration boiling over.

"I can't understand this at all!"