SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 344: A Necessary Conversation [VI]

Trafalgar’s gaze shifted slightly, the pieces beginning to align on their own. His thoughts moved away from bloodlines and legacy and settled on something more immediate, more concrete.

"The Council," he said after a moment. "That time." His eyes narrowed faintly. "What you gave me. What you forced onto me." He paused. "That protects me from the Void Creatures, doesn’t it?"

Rhosyn answered without hesitation.

"Yes."

She did not elaborate right away, allowing the confirmation to settle before continuing.

"It hides your trace," she said. "Void Creatures are drawn to Primordial blood. They sense it instinctively, like a signal they cannot ignore." Her voice remained calm, factual. "When they detect it, they create Rifts as close to the source as possible."

Trafalgar’s expression tightened slightly.

"That’s why they appeared when you arrived," he said.

Rhosyn nodded.

"Yes. My presence was enough."

The silence that followed carried a different weight now, sharper at the edges.

"So you’ve been hiding there all this time," Trafalgar said. It was not an accusation. It was an observation. "Staying in one place."

"I never stayed long," Rhosyn replied. "I moved constantly. From region to region. From continent to continent." Her gaze drifted briefly, then returned. "I was searching for others like us."

Her voice did not change when she continued.

"I did not find them."

The admission landed quietly.

"I only knew you," she said. "And when I learned that the original Trafalgar had taken his own life, I could not ignore it." Her eyes held his steadily. "That was the moment I acted."

Understanding settled in.

"So there are two of us," Trafalgar said slowly. "That’s all."

"Yes."

The scale of it pressed in from every side. Not despair, not panic. Perspective. Two against something vast enough to erase bloodlines and fracture history.

"That isn’t enough," he said.

"No," Rhosyn agreed. "It is not."

She did not let the conclusion linger unchecked.

"The other bloodlines are not useless," she said. "They have evolved. Adapted. They are capable of standing against the Void." Her tone sharpened slightly. "But the world is divided. Wars. Power struggles. Ambition layered on top of fear."

Her gaze hardened.

"Those fractures must be addressed first," Rhosyn said. "Before anything else."

Silence stretched between them once more, different from before. It was no longer heavy with uncertainty, but with understanding that had nowhere left to go.

Rhosyn was the one who spoke.

"Does that answer everything you wanted to know?" she asked.

Trafalgar looked at her then. Properly this time. There was sadness in his expression, but it was tempered by something steadier, something closer to clarity. He did not rush to respond. He let the question sit, turning it over slowly, measuring it against everything that had been laid bare.

"Yes," he said at last. "All of it."

He drew in a quiet breath.

"They’re terrible answers," Trafalgar went on. "Not the kind anyone would hope for." His gaze did not waver from hers. "But they’re complete. That matters."

Rhosyn did not reply. Her composure held for a moment longer, then fractured. The control she had maintained throughout the conversation slipped away all at once, like a knot finally loosening after being held too tight for too long. Her shoulders trembled, breath catching as tears welled and spilled without restraint.

She cried without sound at first, as if unused to the act itself.

Trafalgar did not move. He did not speak. He remained where he was, present, allowing the moment to exist without trying to shape it or interrupt it. This was not something that needed words.

After a while, Rhosyn wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, though the tears kept coming. She looked at him then, hesitation flickering across her face.

"Can I..." Her voice faltered. She swallowed and tried again. "Can I hug you?"

Trafalgar did not answer verbally. He stood and stepped toward her, arms opening in a simple, unguarded gesture.

That was enough.

Rhosyn rose as well and moved into his embrace. She clung to him with surprising strength, fingers gripping the fabric of his clothes as if letting go might undo her entirely. Up close, she felt smaller than she looked, lighter, almost fragile, like something that had been held together by will alone.

Trafalgar remained still, letting her cry against him.

’She’s carried this alone,’ he thought. ’All of it.’

The knowledge settled quietly. The years of silence. The responsibility. The expectation of a world that did not even know it still needed her. She looked fragile now, breakable, yet she had endured everything by herself for far longer than anyone should have had to.

His arms tightened slightly, not to restrain her, but to hold the weight she had finally allowed to surface.

There were still questions. He could feel them waiting, patient and unresolved. Magnus. The truth behind Valttair. Why only Rhosyn remained when an entire bloodline had once existed.

Those answers would come later.

Rhosyn stepped back first.

She drew a slow breath, lifting a hand to her face as she wiped away the remaining tears with deliberate care, as if restoring the composure she had set aside only briefly. When she looked up again, her eyes were still damp, but steady. Present.

Trafalgar watched her for a moment before speaking.

"So," he asked quietly, "what happens now?"

Rhosyn did not hesitate. "We continue," she said. "As we have been." She folded her hands together, fingers interlacing loosely. "I will keep searching for the Primordials. They have to exist somewhere. Bloodlines like ours do not vanish without leaving traces."

Her gaze sharpened slightly as she met his again. "And you have a war to deal with."

Trafalgar exhaled through his nose, a faint, humorless sound. "Figures."

"There is more," Rhosyn added. "The vision you saw." She paused, letting the weight of it settle. "It remains the most accurate projection of what is coming. Of how things unfold if nothing changes."

His eyes narrowed a fraction. "You know about that too."

"Yes," she replied simply.

Trafalgar looked away for a moment, then back at her. "Then answer me this." His tone softened, losing its edge. "Are you going to keep disappearing like before, or will I finally be able to see you when I want to?" He shook his head slightly. "You have no idea how much time I spent questioning myself. Trying to figure out if I imagined you, if I was losing my grip back then."

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers pressing briefly against his scalp. "I get it now. I was weak. Maybe you were right. The version of me from a year ago would not have endured any of this. He would have folded." A pause followed, thoughtful rather than bitter. "So maybe you made the right call."

His eyes returned to hers, clearer than before.

"But now," he continued, "I know what I am. I know what this world expects from me." His voice steadied. "Can you stop vanishing for another year?"

Rhosyn did not answer immediately.

Then she nodded.

"Yes," she said. "I can do that."

Something lightened in her expression, subtle but unmistakable. Relief, perhaps. Or quiet happiness, the kind that did not need to be announced.

Trafalgar tilted his head, studying her. "One more thing."

She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Go on."

"How old are you?" he asked.

Rhosyn blinked, then let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh. "You are not supposed to ask that."

He shrugged faintly. "I already crossed several lines tonight."

She considered him for a moment, then relented. "Secret," she said. Her lips curved just a little. "But I am still young for a Primordial."

"Young?" Trafalgar asked.

"Yes," Rhosyn agreed. "Our life expectancy is long. Longer than most. Too long, sometimes." Her gaze drifted briefly, then returned. "But in that sense, we are not so different from each other."