My body tensed the moment the words left her mouth.
"Do you want to become my familia?"
The alley felt narrower, the shadows pressing in as if they were listening. My right foot slid back slightly, weight shifting, muscles coiling out of habit. I didn't lower my guard—not for a second.
"…What does that mean?" I asked, my voice low.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she took a step closer. The faint light spilling in from the street barely touched her face now, but I could see her expression clearly—calm, unreadable, almost gentle.
"Do you want power?" she asked softly."Do you want to conquer the Labyrinth?""Do you want to find your father?"
My breath caught.
That was enough.
My hand moved.
I lunged forward, aiming for her throat. I didn't know what she was—human, god, or something else—but no one spoke about my father like that and walked away unharmed.
She didn't flinch.
Before my fingers could even graze her cloak, the world seemed to tilt. Not violently. Not painfully. Just enough that my footing vanished for a fraction of a second. I stumbled, boots scraping against the damp stone of the alley, and had to catch myself against the wall.
She was still standing where she had been.
"Relax," she said. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have moved at all."
My heart pounded. Not from fear—but from realization.
"…You're a god," I said.
She smiled faintly. "Took you long enough."
I straightened slowly, never taking my eyes off her. "Then answer me. How do you know about my father?"
For the first time, her expression changed.
Not smug. Not playful.
Somber.
"Because his familia," she said, "belonged to my older sister."
The words hit harder than any blow.
"…What?"
"My sister was Heliora," she continued. "Goddess of Dawn. The one who blessed the Solaris Familia."
My world froze.
Heliora.
That name hadn't been spoken around me in years—not without pity or discomfort. The goddess who vanished. The familia that shattered. The day everything stopped.
I stared at her, my thoughts spiraling. If what she was saying was true, then the being standing in front of me wasn't just a goddess.
She was family to one of the strongest gods humanity had ever known.
Which meant—
"You're lying," I said hoarsely.
She shook her head. "I wish I were."
Silence swallowed the alley.
If she was Heliora's sister… then she had been there. She had seen what happened. She knew things no one else did.
"You should be powerful," I said slowly. "Way beyond anyone here."
Her gaze dropped for a moment.
"I was," she admitted. "Once."
She looked back up, and this time there was no mistaking it—weariness lined her eyes.
"But I'm not anymore. I have no familia. No followers. No standing among the gods. Without mortals to bless, a god cannot grow. And without growth…" She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "We stagnate."
I clenched my fists. "Then why me?"
"Because you're alive," she said simply. "Because you're stubborn. Because despite everything taken from you, you still walk toward the Labyrinth every day."
I didn't respond.
She stepped closer again, close enough now that I could feel a faint warmth radiating from her—like sunlight filtered through clouds.
"I'm the weakest goddess now," she said quietly. "Stripped of authority. Forgotten by both heaven and earth. But even so, I still possess divinity."
She raised her hand between us.
"And you," she continued, "are the weakest adventurer. Bound by a blessing that no longer exists. Trapped at the beginning of a path you were never meant to walk alone."
Our eyes met.
"So I'll ask you again, Kael Ardent," she said. "Do you want to become my familia?"
I swallowed.
"If I accept," I said carefully, "what happens?"
Her lips curved into a small smile.
"I bless you," she replied. "I restore your path to growth. You gain experience. You level up. You climb the Labyrinth."
"And you?"
"When you grow," she said, "I grow as well."
I frowned. "That's not how it works."
"It is," she corrected. "Just not something mortals are told."
She explained it then—how gods and mortals were bound together by more than contracts. When a god blessed a child and updated their status, they didn't simply grant power. They shared in the journey. Experience flowed both ways.
Strong adventurers made strong gods.
Weak adventurers… did not.
"That's why powerful gods hoard powerful familias," she said. "And why abandoned gods fade."
I understood.
She needed me as much as I needed her.
"If I fail?" I asked.
"Then we both remain weak," she answered honestly. "Or worse."
I exhaled slowly, looking past her toward the distant silhouette of the Labyrinth. Toward the timer. Toward the floors my father might still be trapped within.
Ten years of being powerless.
Ten years of watching others rise while I stayed behind.
"…What's your name?" I asked.
Her eyes widened slightly, then softened.
"Solenne," she said. "Goddess of Thresholds."
I nodded once.
"Fine," I said. "I'll become your familia."
The alley brightened.
Not with blinding light—but with something warm, steady, and real. Symbols formed in the air, glowing softly as they etched themselves into my back. Pain flared for an instant, then vanished.
A new status window appeared before my eyes.
Familia: Solenne FamiliaBlessing: Active
My heart pounded.
For the first time since Heliora vanished my path was open again.
Solenne stepped back, her breathing uneven, but her smile genuine.
"Welcome," she said. "My first and only child."
I looked at my hands, and they were shaking.
But this time, it wasn't from weakness.
This was the moment everything changed.
This was the moment I stopped being trapped at the beginning.
And this is where I truly began walking the path to becoming the strongest adventurer.