As the darkness closed in around Thomas, he felt a strange sensation, as if he were being pulled through a tunnel. "What the hell was that?" he thought, still grappling with the remnants of the chaotic dream he had just experienced.
"That was just a dream of a long-forgotten time when I was still young," Ren's voice echoed in his mind, a soothing presence amidst the confusion. But as Thomas prepared to ask more questions, he sensed a shift in the atmosphere around him.
Suddenly, he became aware of muffled voices nearby—words he didn't yet understand—coming from two figures. He felt the warmth of his mother's embrace, and as he shifted slightly, he caught a glimpse of a man beside her. The man was large, with long black hair cascading down his shoulders and a beard that framed his strong jawline. He wore intricately designed armor that reminded Thomas of ancient Viking tales.
The man began speaking, his deep voice resonating with joy as he looked at Thomas. Though Thomas couldn't comprehend the words, he could sense the happiness radiating from the man. He must be his father, he realized, especially as he noticed the blue hues of his eyes, which glowed with an almost ethereal green light.
"Is that part of that man's system?" he wondered, still trying to piece together his new reality.
"Yes. He seems to have a low-grade system granted by the god of nature. It's quite a good system for a warrior," Ren had explained before he went into hibernation, leaving Thomas to navigate the unfolding events on his own.
Thomas thought about Ren's offer to help him understand the language spoken around him, but now it was too late. He took a deep breath, anticipating the moment he could finally engage with his new family.
Suddenly, a loud BOOM reverberated through the room, startling Thomas. His mother, Beth, tightened her grip around him, her protective instincts kicking in as she looked around in alarm.
"Looks like I didn't make it in time. What a bummer," a booming voice filled the space, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the balcony.
"Father!" Beth and Vincent exclaimed in unison, their voices a mixture of relief and excitement. Beth relaxed her grip on Thomas, allowing him to look around.
"Let me take a look at the little guy… what did you name him?" the man said as he stepped into the light.
As Thomas finally got a good look at him, he saw a tall figure with a lean yet muscular build, adorned in striking armor that resembled the scales of a red dragon, shimmering in the light. He seemed ancient yet robust, exuding an aura of authority and kindness.
"We didn't give him a name yet; we were waiting for you, Father. We wanted to give him his true name," Beth explained, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"I see," the man replied, his gaze shifting to Thomas. He reached for him gently, lifting Thomas into his arms as if he were the most precious treasure.
As Sarge held him, Thomas felt a strange warmth flow through him again, more potent than before. He wasn't aware of exactly what was happening, but it felt right.
"Little one, don't fight it. I will not harm you; you are my new grandson after all. Just let my energy flow," Sarge said, his voice deep and soothing.
Thomas relaxed completely, allowing the warmth to envelop him. He felt as if he was being infused with something powerful, something ancient that connected him to this new world.
"Ahh," Sarge exclaimed, his eyes glowing with a brilliant white light. "He is going to be powerful for sure. He will be known as Thomas Black of our Black Hand Clan."
As the white light in his eyes began to fade, Thomas felt something shift within him, a sense of identity being forged.
"That is all I can see," Sarge continued, his expression turning serious. "It seems like he is covered in shadows that I cannot see through; that is why I say he is going to be powerful."
He turned to walk back towards the balcony, and Thomas felt an overwhelming rush of emotions. He was part of a clan, a legacy that stretched beyond his understanding.
"Time to meet the clan, little Thomas. Oh, by the way, this old man's name is Sarge, but you can call me Grandpa," he said, his voice brimming with warmth and enthusiasm.
As Sarge stepped out onto the balcony, he held Thomas high, allowing the gathered crowd below to catch a glimpse of him. Thomas's heart raced as he looked out at the sea of faces—strong men and women, their expressions a mix of pride and joy.
"Clan of the Black Hand!" Sarge bellowed, his voice carrying across the village like thunder. "Gather 'round! Our new member has arrived!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a symphony of excitement. Thomas felt a surge of belonging wash over him as he realized he was not just a child; he was a part of something much larger—a family that stretched across generations.
"Thomas Black!" Sarge continued, his voice infused with pride. "He will carry our name and our legacy. A child of strength and shadows!"
As the crowd roared in approval, Thomas looked around, taking in the sight of the village nestled in the valley below. It was a vibrant community filled with life, laughter, and a shared history that he was now a part of.
As Sarge lifted him higher, Thomas felt a wave of emotion wash over him. He was not merely a newborn; he was the next chapter in a long lineage, and the anticipation of what lay ahead filled him with excitement.
"You'll learn to harness the shadows within you, little one," Ren's voice echoed softly in his mind, but Thomas couldn't respond. He was eager to engage with the world around him, to learn about his new family and the legacy he was now part of.
Sarge turned back to him, beaming with pride. "Ready to meet your family, Thomas?"
With a nod, he felt a new surge of energy from Sarge's grip, filling him with confidence. The clan members began to approach, each one eager to catch a glimpse of the newborn.
First came a woman with fierce green eyes and wild red hair, adorned in leather armor that accentuated her warrior spirit. "Welcome to the clan, little one!" she exclaimed, kneeling down to get a better look. "I'm Astrid, your aunt. We're going to be great friends!"
Next, a burly man with a thick beard and a booming laugh stepped forward. "And I am your uncle Erik. Prepare yourself for many adventures!" He placed a large hand on Thomas's head, and Thomas could feel warmth radiating from him, a promise of protection.
As more family members introduced themselves, Thomas felt overwhelmed but also exhilarated. Each greeting was filled with affection and excitement, making him feel cherished and wanted.
"Whoa, this is amazing!" Thomas thought, still processing everything.
As the introductions continued, Thomas felt a strong bond forming within him. They were his family, even if he had just met them. He could sense their love, support, and the strength that came from being part of the Black Hand Clan.
Finally, Sarge turned back to the crowd, gesturing for silence. "Let us feast and celebrate our newest member!" he declared, and the crowd erupted in cheers once more.
As they moved from the balcony into a grand hall filled with laughter, music, and the tantalizing aroma of food, Thomas felt a sense of excitement bubbling within him. He was ready to embrace his new life, ready to discover what it meant to be Thomas Black of the Black Hand Clan.