"Huh? I'm a breaker…?" Missio repeated, shaking off the strange voice.
"Yes! You've leveled up. You're now on the second level of Transcendence." Dante halted near him. "You feel cleaner, don't you? Like you're soul, mind and body have been cleansed."
Missio nodded. "Yeah… It does feel like that but… how does that work?"
"Transcendence is like your stats in a video game. Once your soul's been refined, mind aligns with the concept your climbing and you've used your given ability to a certain degree. You can transcendent by doing an action related to your concept and saying the keyword. For your Pillar of Creation, the keyword was Create." Dante explained.
"Then… what ability do I get?" Missio inquired.
"Try creating a sword. You couldn't before, could you?" Dante backed off.
Missio looked at his hand. He closed his eyes and focused. Imagining his energy flowing into his palm, he crafted a sword in his imagination. A blinding light burst forward, scattering across the sky. Eventually, it faded. Missio opened his eyes and gazed down at his hand. In its grip was a katana that had appeared out of nowhere.
"Now, you don't feel that much exhausted, do you? For creation, Until the Paragon level, your creation prowess will continue to grow."
"Paragon? What level is that?" Missio blurted.
"There are eight levels in the Pillar of Transcendence according to my knowledge. Awakener – Breaker – Ascendant – Paragon – Eminence – Eidolon and Archon." Dante counted.
"So, I'm at the third lowest level…"
"Your one of the few transcendent's on this continent. Have some self-esteem, will ya?"
Just then, Isabella's voice rang out from behind.
"More like, clean up the mess you made!"
Dante spun around, looking at Isabella who's hair had been ruffled. He spun around again and peered at the broken canvas. He patted Missio on the shoulder while stepping forward.
"Go inside. I'll clean this up."
Missio gave a nod, gripping his sword. He headed towards the house. Isabella's fingers glided through her hair, unruffling it. She rotated and walked with Missio. Both headed inside as Dante began cleaning up.
***
After a few hours…
The sun began setting. The evening sun shone through the clouds as dusk finally came. Within Isabella's home, she began cooking food. Dante and Missio sat in the living room, watching television. Suddenly, the front opened and two people.
"Isabella, I'm home." A man's voice rang.
Isabella spun around and rushed to the door. There she met a man and a woman who seemed to be in their late forties. The man had polished dark hair with a beard covering his mouth, blue eyes and wore a brown suit. The woman on the other had shiny brown hair, blue eyes like Isabella's and wore a bright red dress.
"Good evening, Mom, dad." Isabella said. "You're finally back from that business trip?"
"Yes, honey." Her father smiled, glancing at the sofa. "It seems we have some guests."
Dante tilted his head back and waved.
"Nice to see you, Mr. Lorenzo. You too Ms., Clarice."
Lorenzo laughed. "Dante! How surprising!"
"Let's get out of these clothes first, Honey. We can greet them later." Clarice passed him.
"We'll be right back." Lorenzo followed his wife.
The duo passed the staircase, heading to the back of the house. Dante peered at Isabella.
"Is dinner ready yet?"
"It'll be in a minute." Isabella went back to cooking.
After a few minutes, Isabella' parents returned in their normal attire. Lorenzo wore a green T-shirt with gray shorts while Clarice wore red graphic T-shirt with blue trousers. At the exact same time, Isabella finished cooking.
"Dinner's ready people, huddle around."
Dante turned off the TV. He jolted up from the couch and headed towards the dinner table. Missio tucked the katana away and followed him. Lorenzo, Clarice, Dante and Missio sat down as Isabella brought over dinner. She laid down a platter of pasta, vegetables, meat and berries. She brought over water and gave separate plates to everyone. Then, she sat down as well.
Lorenzo cleared his throat.
"Now… let's say grace."
He reached his arms out. His wife took it and held out her hand from her daughter. Isabella also took. On the other side of the table, Dante smiled and took Isabella's father's hand. But Missio didn't. Isabella raised a brow.
"Missio, hold Dante's hand."
Missio scratched the back of his head. He turned his head, locking eyes with his brother. Dante tilted his head slightly, urging Missio. Missio turned back, meeting the other's gazes.
"I'm sorry but… I'm an atheist."
"Oh…" Isabella blurted.
The table instantly became awkward. But fortunately, Isabella' mother broke the silence.
"It's okay. Let's continue."
Lorenzo, Dante, Isabella and Clarice lowered their heads and recited a prayer.
"Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we're about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."
As they recited, Missio drew a deep breath, feeling his own heart pump blood. He felt the others heart thump as well. The food's heat felt like a warm blanket pushing against his skin. The prayer finally finished and all began eating.
"So, Dante what brought you over? Did Isabella miss you?"
Dante laughed. "No – no, Missio's trying to recover from his trauma. So, I just getting out of the manor would be a good idea. Plus, I've a got a whole cross-country road trip planned."
"When will you leave?" Clarice asked, biting into her pasta.
"February 28th." Dante replied. "I want to get back by September."
"Aren't the elections for PM going to happen in March? How are you gonna vote?" Isabella asked.
"Might I remind you my attribute is Lightning?" Dante licked his lips.
"Oh, right…" Isabella replied sheepishly.
"But Dante I have a question…" Lorenzo stated.
Dante raised a brow. "Yes…?"
"Any… 'big news' you want to share about?"
Dante's brain jolted, an awkward smile making its way onto his face.
'Not this again…'
He muttered in his mind. Then, an idea came to him. He patted Missio on the back.
"Yeah, I just fried Missio and another officer from the black ops."
Lorenzo chuckled slightly, knowing Dante was avoiding the question. They continued eating their dinner as Dante pushed Missio into the conversation ever few moments.