Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 63: Call of Origin

Chapter 63: Call of Origin

Elius was just about to step forward—his mind racing, thoughts forming, ready to approach the boy with the swirling sand—when a loud, blaring, completely out-of-place ringtone shattered the entire atmosphere like a lightning bolt crashing through a peaceful meadow.

RING RING RING!!!

DADADADADA-DUN! DUN DUN DUN!!!

It was one of those default ringtones.

The kind that ships with factory phones. Loud. Jarring. Cringe-inducing.

Every sidekick in the area froze.

Elius, eyes wide in horror, looked down at his pocket. His ancient, dusty smartphone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with the name "Mom"—Shannon—glowing with innocent urgency.

Elius stared at it, internally screaming.

Why didn’t I mute it? Why did I leave it in loud mode!?

He fumbled it out of his coat like it was a live grenade and quickly turned around, walking toward the edge of the crowd as casually as he could. He pressed the green icon and answered.

"H-hello?" he whispered harshly.

The warm voice of his mother came through the other end, full of gentle concern and affection. "Elius, sweetie, are you in school right now? Did you forget your lunchbox again?"

Elius closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, Mom... I’m in school. At Academy High."

"Oh, that’s good!" Shannon said brightly. "But you forgot your lunch again! I made those dumplings you like. I even added the sweet sauce this time—just like when you were little. I know things are hard there, but I’m really proud of you. You know, you’re going to be a real superhero like your father someday. I can feel it!"

She sighed wistfully on the other end. "Your father would be proud of you, too. Even if he doesn’t say it much."

Elius nodded awkwardly, still facing the wall of the building, his back to the rest of the sidekicks. "Thanks, Mom... yeah. I’m doing fine."

"Oh, good!" she continued. "I know it’s not easy, but you always do your best. Just remember to be kind to your teammates, eat lots of veggies, and don’t be too reckless, okay? You’re strong like your dad, but you’re also smart like me, right?"

She chuckled.

And Elius—frozen between fear and embarrassment—could only smile faintly.

"I’ll be okay," he muttered. "Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later."

"Okay, good luck, baby!" she said cheerily. "Be the best hero!"

Click.

The call ended.

But the damage?

The damage had been done.

Because Elius—oh-so-clever, oh-so-silent Elius—had forgotten one crucial thing.

Ever since awakening as an Immortal Cultivator, he never used his phone. He cultivated silently in a dungeon. Trained with sidekicks. Survived life and death situation against Lava Scissor.

But he had never turned off the sound on his phone. Ever since he became an immortal cultivator!

Which meant the call had blared through the plaza like a battle trumpet. Like a megaphone declaring:

"THIS KID IS HIDING SOMETHING."

He pocketed the phone quickly, his hands sweaty, and turned around—hoping he could disappear into the crowd.

Only to see every single sidekick looking at him.

The music had stopped.

The lights flickered.

A bubble popped mid-air.

The glowing origami birds froze, crumpling to the ground like dead paper doves.

And a deep, awkward silence settled over the area.

Dozens of sidekicks. All eyes on Elius.

His heartbeat thudded louder than ever. Did they hear her say superhero? Do they know? Crap—do they think I’m a Superhero? Are they gonna crowd me? Ask for invitations? Or—

Then, someone chuckled.

Just one guy.

A short one with goggles and shock-blue hair, who pointed a gloved finger at Elius and muttered, "Did... did he just lie to his mom?"

Another girl, the one with the floating bubbles, raised her brow. "Wait, did she say ’become a superhero like your father’? Oh my god—"

Another person burst into laughter. Then another. And then, like wildfire...

They all started laughing.

At first, it was quiet snickers. Muted giggles. The kind of laughter you try to hold back but can’t help. Hands covering mouths. Shoulders trembling.

Then it grew louder.

Bigger.

Explosive.

"He told his mom he’s a superhero!" someone cried, tears forming in the corners of their eyes. "He’s not even wearing an ID band!"

"Bro, who lies to their own mom like that!?"

"Dude was probably gonna say he’s in S-Class tomorrow!"

"You hear that ringtone!? That’s the kind of phone my grandpa uses!"

"What is he, like, ten? Oh my god—this is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week!"

They weren’t malicious.

They weren’t cruel.

But the laughter was relentless. Infectious. Unforgiving.

The sidekick with the sand power? He was laughing too. Even he couldn’t help it, doubling over with a choked "What the hell!" as he slapped his knees.

Elius stood there, frozen, arms slack at his sides.

He had fought beasts in dimensional cracks. Felt the pressure of Radiant Man’s gaze. Withstood the fear of being manipulated by a cosmic fire god.

But this?

This was humiliation.

Pure. Undiluted. Humiliation.

He didn’t know whether to explain or vanish into thin air. Should he yell that it was true? That he was at Academy High? That he was powerful?

Or would that just make it worse?

I’m going to die from secondhand embarrassment, he thought miserably.

And just when he thought it was over, when the laughter had finally started to fade and some people began wiping tears from their eyes, thinking it was just an awkward moment and maybe he was just another weird kid pretending to be something more...

RING RING RING!!!

DADADADADA-DUN! DUN DUN DUN!!!

The same loud ringtone echoed again.

Elius flinched like he’d been shot in the spine.

His phone, once again, had come back for vengeance.

With trembling hands, he looked at the screen.

MOM (AGAIN)

He groaned softly, face burning with shame, and answered the call in a tiny, strangled voice.

"Y-yeah?"

"Elius, sweetie—I forgot to tell you something!" Shannon’s voice came bright and clear over the line. Loud. Too loud. The crowd instantly went silent again, half-listening with barely concealed grins.

"Your father wanted me to tell you something!" she said cheerfully. "He said—"

Elius swallowed, dread filling him.

Oh no. Please. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say I’m his pride and joy. Please don’t say ’be the next Radiant Man.’ Please just hang up. Please—

And then she said it.

"Your father says—uhhh... what is it again..."

Elius stood frozen, his phone still pressed to his ear.

On the other end, his mother’s voice echoed with her usual warmth, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of social destruction she had just unleashed in the background.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Shannon said casually, like she was reminding him to buy milk. "Your father said that once he’s back, he’ll finally tell you about your origin. Isn’t that exciting? I know he’s been waiting for the right time. Good luck, my son. Love you!"

Click.

The call ended.

And then—

BOOM.

Like a nuclear bomb of laughter exploding across the courtyard.

A beat of silence.

Then one person burst out. "DID SHE JUST SAY ORIGIN?!"

Another followed, howling. "OH MY GOD—HE TOLD HIS MOM HE’S A SUPERHERO AND NOW HE’S GETTING AN ORIGIN STORY?!"

A girl with rainbow tattoos on her arms gasped and pointed, holding her stomach as she laughed, "You’re DEAD, bro! Your dad’s gonna find out you’re a SIDEKICK!"

"Oh, shit!" someone howled. "Wait until dad shows up and sees his son isn’t even on the Hero Registry!"

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

"You’re fucked, dude! FUUUUUCKED!"

"Yo, when your dad finds out you’re LARPing as a superhero, he’s gonna blast you to the moon!"

"Someone call an ambulance—he’s gonna spontaneously combust from shame!"

The crowd erupted.

This wasn’t just laughter anymore.

It was a wildfire.

A tsunami.

A thunderous, unrelenting cacophony of joy at Elius’s supposed demise.

People were crying from laughter.

Some were on the floor, clutching their ribs.

One guy had dropped his soda and didn’t even care.

Girls were covering their mouths, wheezing and shaking their heads, one even said, "I’ve never seen anything this tragic since that guy who glued himself to his own power armor."

They were reenacting the phone call with dramatic flair.

"’Good luck, my son,’" one mocked, putting a hand over his heart and faking a tear.

"’My son, I will tell you your mighty origin!’" another cried, raising his arms to the sky and falling back into another fit of laughter.

Everywhere he turned, Elius could see mouths wide open, teeth gleaming, knees slapped, hands clapping, people wheezing.

But none of it reached him anymore.

He wasn’t hearing them.

He wasn’t even there with them.

Because Shannon had said something else.

"Your father said that once he’s back, he’ll finally tell you about your origin."

And that...

That changed everything.

His hands trembled. Not from shame. Not from social suicide. Not even from anger.

But from a crawling, bone-deep terror that crept up his spine and spread like frost.

He remembered the comic.

The arc that changed the entire direction of the world.

The moment Radiant Man finally acknowledged Keith as his son.

In that version of the story, when Keith had proven himself in battle—when Radiant Man could no longer ignore the truth—he sat Keith down and told him his origin.

And it wasn’t just some heartfelt story about being born in the light of a dying star or whatever poetic crap Radiant Man liked to use in his speeches.

No.

It was a signal.

A beacon.

A declaration that reached across galaxies.

When Radiant Man revealed Keith’s origin, it activated a tracking pulse within his bloodline—one left dormant by the Solarion Empire, the ancient galactic overlords who had created Radiant Man as a living weapon.

A seed.

A test tube filled with divinity.

That signal told the Empire:

"The descendant is ready."

And then...

They came.

The Solarion Empire, cold and calculating, descended on Earth—not as invaders, but as judges.

They watched Keith.

Watched him fight.

Watched him fail and rise.

And in the comic, Earth’s entire fate came down to that evaluation.

If Keith passed, Earth would be spared. Enfolded into the Empire’s "Divine Seed" program.

But if he failed—

They would burn the planet down to prevent any other species from gaining access to Radiant Man’s divine bloodline.

That one moment was the turning point for humanity.

And now...

That moment was about to happen again.

Only this time, Keith didn’t exist.

Only Elius did.