Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner - Chapter 514

Chapter 514: Pithon Family secret 1
The Western Quadrant sprawled beneath them as Seraleth’s ship cut through darkness, the Grey family interceptor making the journey in under two hours thanks to propulsion systems that made standard transports look primitive. Noah watched the landscape shift from the industrial zones around Eclipse headquarters to the affluent districts where wealth concentrated itself in defiance of global threats.

They’d left at night—full darkness in their region. But the planet’s rotation meant they were chasing daylight, and as they crossed into the Western Quadrant, night gave way to afternoon sun. The time zone difference was disorienting, stepping off the ship into bright daylight after departing from midnight.

Pithon Estate occupied enough land to qualify as its own district. The main structure rose seven stories, all flowing curves and transparent surfaces that caught sunlight in ways that made the building seem alive. Gardens surrounded everything—not decorative landscaping but full ecosystems with their own weather systems, water features that could have supplied small towns, climate zones that transitioned from tropical to temperate to alpine within the same property.

The landing pad activated guidance systems as they approached, bringing them down with mechanical precision. When the boarding ramp extended, Noah stepped out into air that felt curated—perfect temperature, ideal humidity, even the scent seemed deliberately engineered.

“Your father lives like this?” Noah asked.

“Welcome to the Pithon family’s complete rejection of modesty,” Kelvin replied, his tone carrying layers of complicated emotion.

Webb Pithon was waiting at the entrance, and Noah immediately understood where Kelvin had inherited his energy. The man practically vibrated with motion even while standing still—hands gesturing as he spoke into a communication device, pacing in tight circles, attention split between multiple conversations simultaneously.

He looked younger than Noah remembered for someone who’d built an industrial empire. Mid-forties maybe, with graying hair at the temples but movements that were sharp and quick. His clothes screamed expensive without being ostentatious—the kind of casual wealth that made thousand-credit garments look like everyday wear.

“—tell them the specifications are final,” Webb was saying into his device. “If they want Pithon technology, they accept Pithon terms. No negotiations. No compromises. Call back when they’ve grown spines.”

He ended the call and his entire demeanor transformed, face lighting up with genuine joy.

“KELVIN!” The name carried across the courtyard. “My boy! My SON! Here in actual flesh instead of on news broadcasts for once!”

He closed the distance in quick strides and pulled Kelvin into a hug that looked equal parts affection and performance. When he released him, Webb turned his attention to Noah with that same enthusiastic energy.

“And you must be Noah Eclipse. The young man who saved two hundred thousand people through sheer determination and an unusual bomb defusal kit. I’ve wanted to meet you since then.”

“Sir,” Noah said, accepting the handshake.

“Webb, please. ‘Sir’ makes me feel ancient and my joints complain enough without adding formality.” He gestured toward the entrance with sweeping motion. “Come! Both of you! I’m in meetings but they can absolutely wait. How often does my son actually visit?”

The interior matched the exterior’s promise. Soaring ceilings, walls that shifted transparency based on privacy requirements, furniture that looked like sculpture but proved surprisingly functional. Holographic displays floated through corridors showing various projects in development, technical specifications rendered in three-dimensional space.

“The Yamato representatives are in conference room three,” Webb said as they walked, his words coming rapid-fire. “Corporate types mostly interested in saying they met me personally. Good for business, terrible for actual innovation, but such is commerce.”

He stopped at an intersection, turning to face them both with expression that mixed parental pride and business calculation.

“Actually—before we discuss whatever brought you here—I want these investors to meet you. Show them what their defense budgets actually protect.” He was already guiding them toward the conference room. “Five minutes. Indulge your father.”

“Dad—” Kelvin started.

“Five minutes!” Webb interrupted, opening the conference room door before Kelvin could protest further.

Six people in expensive business attire looked up from holographic projections of weapons systems. Their expressions shifted from professional interest to curiosity as Webb shepherded Kelvin and Noah inside.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” Webb announced with theatrical flair, “my son Kelvin Pithon, and his colleague Noah Eclipse. Both recently departed from the EDF’s Vanguard program to pursue independent operations.”

One investor leaned forward, a woman with calculating eyes. “Eclipse Faction? The one that’s been trending across every network?”

“The same,” Webb confirmed, pride unmistakable. “Kelvin designed their technical infrastructure from scratch. And Noah—” his smile widened, “—commands actual dragons. Category Five threats handled independently.”

The investors’ interest sharpened immediately, business instincts recognizing opportunity.

“We’ve been monitoring your operations,” a younger man said. “The transparency approach is revolutionary. Direct observation of faction work could fundamentally change—”

“Which we can discuss extensively later,” Webb interrupted smoothly. “Right now I’m being paternal rather than professional. Networking can wait until after I’ve properly welcomed my son home.”

He guided Kelvin and Noah back out, closing the door on curious stares.

“There,” Webb said with satisfaction. “Now they’ll spend an hour discussing partnerships with Eclipse instead of questioning my pricing structure. You’re welcome.”

“You used us as a distraction,” Kelvin observed.

“I used you as LEVERAGE,” Webb corrected. “Also I genuinely wanted to show you off. A father is allowed simple pleasures, yes?”

He led them to a private study that felt more real than the polished exterior—actual work happened here. Technical schematics covered displays, prototype components occupied workbenches, the smell of solder and electronics made the space feel lived-in.

“Sit,” Webb said, gesturing to chairs. “Talk. Tell me why my son who swore eternal independence is standing in my study looking like he needs something important.”

Kelvin and Noah exchanged glances. The moment of truth.

“I need materials,” Kelvin said directly. “The experimental alloy from the Category Five armor project. The composite with void-reactive properties and extreme thermal tolerance.”

Webb’s eyebrows rose. “Straight to business then. No pleasantries, no catching up, just ‘give me experimental military materials.’ You inherited my directness at least.”

“Dad—”

“I’m not offended. Just noting the similarity.” Webb leaned back, expression shifting from paternal to calculating. “That alloy exists. Project succeeded—created material that could handle Category Five loads theoretically. EDF canceled production because costs were astronomical.”

“How astronomical?”

“Small warship prices for a single armor suit.” Webb’s smile was sharp. “Which is why it sits in R&D storage being expensive and theoretical.”

“I need twenty kilograms,” Kelvin said. “For reactor containment. Something that won’t fail under extreme thermal stress.”

Webb went completely still, his constant motion freezing in a way that made Noah’s instincts scream warnings.

“A reactor,” Webb said slowly. “Requiring Category Five thermal tolerance. What exactly are you building?”

Kelvin explained. The fusion concept, the dragon catalyst, the self-sustaining generation. He pulled up schematics, showed energy projections. Webb listened without interruption, his expression cycling through curiosity to genuine interest to something approaching awe.

“That’s brilliant,” Webb said when Kelvin finished. “Using biological generators as fusion catalysts—genuinely innovative. The physics is sound, engineering is excellent, power projections are staggering. One hundred megawatts sustained? That’s remarkable work, son.”

Pride colored his voice unmistakably.

“So we can have the alloy?” Kelvin asked.

“No.”

The word dropped like a guillotine blade.

Kelvin stared. “What?”

“No. You cannot have the alloy.”

“But you just said—”

“I said the work is brilliant.” Webb stood, moving to his workbench. “That’s not the issue. The issue is you’re planning to use brilliant engineering for suicide, and I won’t provide materials that enable it.”

“This is for a critical mission—” Noah started.

“Young man,” Webb turned to face him, and all warmth evaporated. His voice stayed polite but carried an edge like breaking glass. “I appreciate your heroism at the tournament. Genuinely. You saved thousands of lives through courage that would break most adults.”

He stepped closer, and Noah felt the full weight of Webb Pithon’s attention.

“But this is family business. And while you and my son play faction, I’ve stayed uninvolved. Haven’t interfered. Haven’t used my influence to complicate your operations.” His expression hardened. “But I won’t watch Kelvin commit suicide. I let him join the EDF because they had professionals supervising. But Eclipse?” Webb shook his head. “Wannabe soldiers playing war. That’s what you are.”

Noah felt heat rising but forced calm. “With respect—”

“Leave,” Webb said flatly. “I need to speak with my son. Alone.”

Noah looked at Kelvin uncertainly.

“Buddy,” Kelvin said, voice carrying warning. His eyes stayed locked on his father. “Don’t move an inch.”

The temperature dropped.

“Noah stays,” Kelvin continued, his usual energy completely absent. “He’s family. More than you’ve been. He’s why I’m alive to have this conversation.”

“Kelvin—” Webb started.

“No.” Kelvin’s voice cut clean. “You don’t dismiss people who kept me breathing. Noah, Diana, Sophie, Lucas—they’re not playing soldier. They’re the only reason humanity has a chance. And you?” His laugh was bitter. “You sit here making weapons and profit while actual heroes work.”

Webb’s expression darkened. “Watch your tone.”

“Or what? You’ll lecture me?” Kelvin stood, facing his father directly. “You lost that privilege when you chose profit over principles. When you sold weapons to anyone with credits. When you prioritized Pithon Industries over actually helping people.”

“I SAVED humanity with those weapons!” Webb’s voice rose to match Kelvin’s intensity. “Without Pithon technology, the Harbinger war ends with extinction! Every weapon system keeping soldiers alive—MY designs! MY company! MY contribution!”

“Built on corpses of people you destroyed!” Kelvin shot back. “Don’t pretend I don’t know about competitors who mysteriously went bankrupt! Researchers whose projects failed when you needed market dominance! Small manufacturers who couldn’t compete after you undercut their pricing!”

“That’s business—”

“That’s corruption!” Kelvin’s voice cracked. “You operated in grey areas! Sold weapons to criminals when profitable! Looked away when buyers used Pithon technology for atrocities because acknowledging it would hurt your reputation!”

Webb’s jaw clenched. “You think war is clean? Survival is pretty? There are grey areas in business, Kelvin. Choices young idealists don’t understand!”

“So that makes it acceptable?” Pain bled through Kelvin’s anger. “You justify everything with ‘it’s complicated’ instead of admitting you chose money over morality every time!”

“I chose SURVIVAL!” Webb’s shout rattled displays. “I chose giving humanity tools to fight extinction! If that required uncomfortable decisions—then yes! I made them! And I’d do it again! Because idealists who prioritize purity over practicality? They DIE!”

They were both shouting now, voices escalating in tandem. Noah pressed against the wall trying to disappear.

“You weren’t making tough choices!” Kelvin’s voice shook. “You made CONVENIENT ones that happened to make you wealthy!”

“And what were YOU doing?” Webb shot back. “Running away to play soldier because you couldn’t handle reality? Joining the EDF to feel morally superior?”

“I joined because I wanted to make a difference WITHOUT becoming everything I hate!”

“Then you’re a FOOL!” Webb’s voice cracked like a whip. “The world doesn’t reward idealism! It rewards RESULTS! And the only reason you’ve survived to judge me is because people like me, YOUR FATHER, made hard choices you’re too weak to make!”

Kelvin went very still. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, controlled, absolutely lethal.

“You weren’t a good husband. You definitely aren’t a good father. And everything you built? It’s founded on compromises that would shame most people.”

There was absolute silence.

Webb’s face went pale. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” Each word deliberate, weighted with years of pain. “You… Failed…My…Mother.”

“No,” Webb whispered.

“Yes.”

“No—”

“YOU DID!” Kelvin was shouting again. “She needed you and you weren’t there! She was dying and you were in meetings!”

“I DIDN’T—” Webb’s voice broke.

“YOU DID!”

“I DIDN’T!”

“YOU DID!”

Back and forth, the same accusations and denials, volume climbing with each exchange until Webb’s voice cracked with something that might have been anguish or fury or both.

“BUT YOU KILLED YOUR MOTHER!”

The words detonated like a bomb.

Kelvin stopped mid-breath, face draining of color completely.

Noah’s stomach dropped through the floor.

The study fell into silence so complete that Noah could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. Kelvin stood frozen, staring at his father with expression that cycled through shock, hurt, confusion, devastation.

Webb’s face had gone ashen, his hand rising to cover his mouth as if he could somehow take the words back.

But they were out now.

Irretrievable.

Hanging between father and son like an open wound that would never heal.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.