The childish spectacle they engaged in helped the father and son shake off some of the emotional strain they had. Most of Graves's security detail watched them play around with understanding – as experienced soldiers, they had seen death before, and they knew the importance of a good-natured distraction from the anxiety and sorrow.
Quarter of an hour later, Michael was chatting with his dad, sitting on the bench, when a doctor approached them. "Mr. North, Mr. Severniy. Mrs. Severniy has woken up. She is perfectly fine but a little tired. She's asking for you, but please, keep your meeting short, for her sake."
Father and son exchanged a glance. Vladimir pointed at his throat and arched an eyebrow, to which Michael responded with a nod.
It was time for him to come clean before his parents.
In the ambulance car, Nadezhda was waiting for them. She looked a little disheveled, with pale half-moons under her eyes. Two clamps were attached to her limbs to keep track of her vitals.
"Nadya, you're all right!" Vladimir got into the cramped van first and squeezed himself into a seat between two machines on the side.
"Hey, mom! Glad you're feeling better." Michael smiled as he squatted near her bed.
"Misha, dear! I'm so happy you're here! Those men, they wanted to kidnap you…"
"We already know everything. Calm down. The doctor will get angry if he finds out you're not getting rest." Vladimir gently pressed on his wife's shoulder, squashing her attempt to get up. He touched her hairline and brushed off the unruly hair, then leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips.
Any other teenager would cough or get annoyed if they saw their parents kiss, but Michael wasn't like that. Even if his subconscious was adapting to the body, lowering his mental age, he still had enough tact to look at the floor and let his parents share an intimate moment.
"So you're an Alter, huh? Why didn't you tell me?" Vladimir asked, stroking his wife's hair.
She blushed a little and confessed, "You like being the man in the family. I was worried that it would make you feel incapable…"
Vladimir's face darkened.
"Pffe-he-he!" Michael chuckled, "It takes two people to keep up your manly image, dad!"
"…And I didn't know what my power would be. I tried to expel energy like Misha says, but I was always alone, and nothing happened. And when they pointed a gun at me, I did it again, on instinct. Sorry," she said, seeing her husband's wry, self-deprecating smile.
"Don't worry," he muttered under his breath.
Nadezhda caught Vladimir's arm to stop his gentle ministrations and turned her head to look at Michael. "I am so sorry, dear. Someone called our home, told us you were hurt, that your phone was broken. I should've taken a minute to consider if it was true. It just… sounded so real."
"No, mom." The teenager took her hand in his. "It's not your fault. If you didn't fall for it, they might've gone for something riskier, like infiltrating the apartment building."
The woman nodded, her breathing slightly haggard.
"Are you tired? Let me help." The young cultivator covered his palms with golden energy and passed it to his mother. The warm, pleasant stream sank into Nadezhda's arm and traveled around her body.
Glory points represented the purest energy of the World Tree. It was extremely powerful, but with Michael's limited control, it could only perform miracles on a microscopic level. The greater the scale, the more glory points were needed. To dissolve a tumor or a clot – tens of thousands of points. To heal a broken arm – at least a million.
Now, in order to supply his mother's body with vitality, Michael spent a few million points without a second thought. With his exposure and social status, replenishing that energy would take him a few hours, if not less.
As the radiant gold spread through her limbs and organs, Nadezhda felt like she was enveloped in a silky, velvety cloud. Not only did she cheer up, but her Mental Power reserves replenished considerably.
"It tickles," she mumbled, her dumbstruck expression provoking Vladimir to double up with laughter. The medical equipment around him shook as the man guffawed, clutching his stomach.
"Listen, guys," Michael began after his dad calmed down, "I think I'm going to tell you why this kidnapping happened, but you must keep it a secret. Do you understand?"
Vladimir gave a decisive nod, while Nadezhda bit her lip and winced in anticipation.
Michael told them everything. He left out the details about Splendid Glory and cultivation, of course, but went over most of the events of the past two weeks. He told them about stopping an Altered criminal who could vibrate parts of his body, alerting the Swiss government, announcing himself to be the first Alter, finding out the Russians had been after him for a long time (Vladimir hung his head at that point, blaming himself), confronting Russian spies and allying forces with principal Graves.
When Michael got to the deadly conflict in the Russians' safe house, Nadezhda gasped and gripped his hand tighter. When he confessed to killing two scientists to find out their location, Vladimir's gaze turned grim.
"So, you can punch through metal walls," he said after Michael finished his story.
"Yes. And that's exactly what I want you to take away from this." He looked at his mom, who was gray with worry, and spoke the harsh truth, "I'm tough. I've gotten into this with the intention of preventing a global panic, and my actions have saved countless lives. They've also alerted many powerful people, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles. There's no doubt something else will happen to me that'll make you worry, and I'm sorry for that."
She protested, "You can stop this while you can! Walk away, leave these… spy games to people who know what they're doing!"
"No, mom." Michael shook his head. "You can't see it, but there are people who need me. Not for cancer research, not for mobile games, but for the guidance, however little and crude it may be. I can see them when I close my eyes."
He did so and opened the Notifications menu with a thought. New lines appeared constantly, swarming Michael's field of vision.
"800 glory points earned for preventing an accident."
"400 glory points earned for helping a person find meaning in their life."
"30 glory points earned for making a person feel good about themselves."
"250 glory points earned for helping a couple find common ground."
"120 glory points earned for providing a person with explanations on how to control their powers."
He opened his eyes and continued, "So, don't worry, mom. You bought the kidnappers' cheap trick because you're afraid something will happen to me? It will! There will be so much crap I'll have to go through, I can't even imagine! But I'm tough. My fists can break iron. There's nothing they can do to me. I promise I'll survive."
Vladimir found it difficult to breathe, so proud he was of his son. He still remembered the kid who had been putting on airs, claiming he was a self-made millionaire, or just days ago, when the young man had been restless, unable to decide whether to come out as the first Alter.
Now, he was a picture of confidence and poise.
"I can't do that," Nadezhda refused. "How do you expect me to go about my life if my baby is in danger?"
"Mo-o-o-m…"
"Khm. But if you keep me appraised, that might… relieve my worry. I only want what's best for you, Misha."
The teenager perked up. "There is something you can do to help me! It's funny; the Russians are after me because of my unusual powers, but what they don't know is, I've created a training regimen for Alters to increase their strength. It should work for non-Alters too. Want to give it a go? I will definitely sleep tighter if I know you two can take care of yourselves."
After all, he had told them so much truth. Adding in a few lies didn't matter, right?
When both Vladimir and Nadezhda agreed to try, Michael clapped in glee. "Great. Don't worry, it's nothing special. Just some breathing exercises."
I know the numbers are off because of author's notes, but this is my chapter №100.
I've gone a long way, learned a lot and met some wonderful people. I've also taken long breaks and was lazy sometimes. There are plotholes in the novel I don't really have time to correct for now.
This is just the beginning of my writing career.
Thank you for sticking with me.
Love you.
P.S. This is the perfect opportunity to buy me a pizza!
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