"How did you get a pet?" Greaves asked, her shock still evident on her face.
Narvel regarded her as though she were overreacting and replied, "I don't know. Voidscale awakened a few hours after I first arrived in the Crucible."
"And you have been a Nova for years now?" Joseline added almost rhetorically.
His case seemed to be an anomaly that went against what they knew about Novas. From their perspective, he seems to have the foundations of a powerful Nova, however, his reality doesn't match up with his potential.
They also considered that it could be that Narval was in a coma in the Crucible for quite a while hence his missing status for two years. Nonetheless, that wasn't enough of a reason for his level which was still in the Awakening stage to remain there.
But this was just Greaves and Joseline overestimating what they knew while also mixing their hopes in their assumptions.
They wanted Narvel to be strong.
They need him to be a rock that they could rely on, but at the moment, everything they presented with was edging otherwise.
With a sigh, Greaves leaned back into her chair. "Your case seems to be special, Narvel. From what you've said, it sounds like you're a talented Nova, but your current level suggests otherwise. This is going to make things harder for us."
"What do you mean by that?" He questioned. Though he was aware he wasn't the strongest, he still believed he could pull his weight—as he had when he was younger in The Crucible. Greaves spoke as though he were going to be a hindrance.
"She meant that you wouldn't be able to join us at your current level. If you do, you might lose your life easily," Joseline clarified.
"What's going on? What am I supposed to join that will cost me my life so easily?"
"After you were gone, we heard a lot of news that the Federation kidnapped many Novas that night. It was one of their goals after inducing the Novara gene to awaken. They took their bodies while they were in the Crucible, using the guise of wanting to protect the peace of the city. Anyone who died in The Crucible—and their bodies turned into a Havoc, they killed immediately, or at least that's what the public was told… they were dealt with accordingly. That was their excuse."
This explanation clarified why they had assumed he'd been kidnapped, and it also shed some light on why the government released Ember in Sector 8 that day. However, it didn't answer everything Narvel wanted to know.
"Because of that, someone has become one of the prime targets for the Federation over the years while they try to determine if they were responsible for abducting you. She fought hard and became a serious problem for them. In doing so, she even created a team of Supernovas, a type of Nova stronger than the average Nova. Each of them has special talents that give them immense boosts to their abilities, the weakest in her group are Eclipse Novas, and the strongest is her, a Sunmoon Nova." Greaves continued.
This was enough to explain to Narvel what they had been up to during his absence. His mind raced.
She's a Sunmoon Nova? At the peak already? But still...
"Why did you do something so dangerous?" Narvel asked, his voice tinged with overwhelm as he considered this new, formidable version of Joseline. The Joseline he remembered was gentle, somewhat weak-willed—a kind soul who would never cause harm. At the same time, he couldn't help but imagine the struggle she had to overcome to get this far, and it pained him.
"Because she thought you had been taken by them. She couldn't bear the thought, so she continued to fight to find any trace of you," Greaves replied before Joseline could speak for herself.
Joseline remained silent, watching Narvel's expressions closely.
She could tell he was shocked and confused at the same time, and that realization stirred something warm within her, though it didn't show on her face.
The two of them locked gazes and stared deep into the pupils of the other.
It comforted Narvel to know that someone was willing to defy her nature to do something for him—to go to such lengths on his behalf. That thought brought warmth to his heart, softened his resolve, and, if he were honest, sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
With a deep sigh, Narvel leaned back in his chair. "Well, it's a good thing I'm back now. You don't have to continue searching for me. And you can finally stay out of the Federation's way."
"It is indeed a good thing that you are back," Joseline said softly. "Although I might not be showing it perfectly, I am beyond happy that you're safe and alive. However, Andy, I can't stop now. I can't betray the lives sacrificed and the promises made to those who chose to follow me. What started because of you has grown into something much bigger than you."
Narvel absorbed her words, and indeed, it was as she said. Joseline wasn't displaying her emotions in the typical way, contrary to the emotions he was sensing from her, her face didn't portray anything. As though she had forgotten how to express them openly, not because she didn't want to, but because of all that had happened to her these past few years.
"So everyone that was here are your teammates?"
"Yes, there are others, but they aren't in Avalon at the moment."
"What about that guy who tried to stop me? Who is he?"
This question, in particular, revealed what Narvel truly wanted to know. A smirk appeared on Greaves' face as she spoke first, "The boy is downright smitten—almost to an obsessive, delusional degree—believing that little Josy here is his."
Those words struck Narvel hard, stirring jealousy and fury. He didn't doubt Joseline's character, but the thought of having missed two years of her life gnawed at him. What if she now harbored feelings for him? What would he do then?
"Others are free to assume as they wish; their assumptions aren't mine to manifest. Ronan is strong—one of the first people I met in The Crucible—and he is a reliable subordinate. He has helped me many times, so I trust him, but I am not his," Joseline murmured.
She could tell that Narvel had become jealous, and in that moment, it was almost amusing to her. As she was before him, Joseline realized that she was beginning to feel emotions she hadn't experienced in two years—feelings that filled her with both joy and relief.
A few seconds passed as the conversation sank into Narvel's mind, each word resonating with the weight of unspoken emotions. "This is even more reason for me to join your group. I can't let you keep on wandering around with that delusional boy," he declared, his tone firm and resolute.
"But you're too weak," Joseline retorted softly—not meant as an insult, merely as a statement of fact. Yet those words struck Narvel deeply; he never imagined that hearing such a blunt truth could make him feel diminished, as though he were less of a person than he already believed himself to be.
"I can become strong," he murmured, a spark of determination flickering in his eyes.
"And I don't doubt that one bit," Joseline continued, her voice measured but laced with an undeniable edge. "But becoming strong enough in a short time isn't something that can be done—at least not easily or right now. It took me two years of struggle and luck, consuming treasures and cultivating a certain Glyph Technique—an inheritance—to reach this level. My case is different from many; I had a lot of help along the way. In two more years, I should be able to reach the first Evolution, and at that time…" She paused, exhaling slowly, her gaze dropping as the weight of her words settled over the room.
"My point is that it will be extremely difficult for you to catch up, or at least to reach a level where you can protect yourself against our enemies." This was the most she had spoken all at once since his return, and her tone left no room for misunderstanding.
"Creating my group wasn't easy," she continued, her voice softening. "Not only did we face attacks from the Federation, but we also had to defend ourselves against rival groups and Aristocrat families. Many of us have had our identities exposed. If you join us while you're this weak, you'll become a burden to me, Andy." Her words, though blunt, carried a sorrowful inevitability.
"While she might have been harsh with her words, she isn't wrong," Greaves interjected, her tone gentle as she sought to shield Narvel from further hurt. She feared he might not adjust to Joseline's new, colder manner of speaking— different from the warmth he remembered. In her eyes, having him back had been the medicine Joseline desperately needed.
"Me? A burden to you?" Those words reverberated through Narvel, striking him in the deepest recesses of a long-held trauma—one that stemmed from the disappearance of his parents. He had always believed that his very existence had become a dangerous burden to them, thinking that it was the reason why they left him. That thought had haunted him, and now it threatened to unravel him once more.
"That's quite a harsh thing to say to your husband," Narvel whispered, his voice breaking with genuine hurt.
At the sound of his quiet plea, Joseline's face registered shock, guilt, and a trace of regret. The moment she heard Narvel call himself her "husband" stirred a bittersweet warmth within her, even as it amplified the guilt inside her.
When they were younger—around fifteen—Joseline had insisted they marry, fearful she wouldn't live past seventeen because of her illness. She had proposed out of romantic idealism and also out of a desperate desire not to die young and single.
Though Narvel had accepted her proposal, he had always insisted their relationship remain private, never broadcasting it or allowing her to call him "husband" in public. The only reason Greaves knew of their union was that she had officiated it, standing as a witness to their matrimony.
Since that day, apart from quietly supporting her financially and emotionally, Narvel had never acted as though they were a couple.
Now, hearing him refer to himself as her husband, Joseline felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. So intense was the feeling that her aura seemed to ripple; the room grew colder as thin layers of frost appeared around her, only to recede a few seconds later as she forced herself back into a calm façade.
"I am a bad wife," she murmured, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke, "I hope you can forgive me in the future… we may not have much time together, husband."
Before another word could be exchanged, Greaves cleared her throat. "Let me give the two of you some privacy," she said, rising gracefully from her chair and leaving the room, her departure punctuating the intimate moment that remained.