Veil of Aether

The two returned to their decrepit room after a long, miserable day of labor. Kei, too exhausted to even stand, dropped straight to the floor, missing the scrap of cloth that barely passed for bedding. Not that he cared. He just laid there, face down, body stiff, muscles twitching like they were threatening mutiny.

Every part of him screamed—pain radiating from muscles he didn’t know could ache. His body wasn't just sore; it was offended.

“So, this is what a Temporal Zone is like, huh?” Kei muttered, his voice muffled into the dirt.

Silvie flopped down nearby, barely making the effort to sit upright. “I thought it’d be a regular Exalted Dungeon. Y’know, deadly, soul-crushing… but manageable. But this? This is just disrespectful.”

Kei groaned. “I hate this. All that time I spent crafting gear… gone. All those carefully made pieces—wasted. And why? Because you told me to prepare.”

Silvie didn’t even try to sound apologetic. “No, no. That was for the actual Exalted Dungeon. We have to clear this first before we can even touch that one. And Temporal Dungeons are always... hell.”

Kei didn’t even care enough to argue anymore. He just groaned again and let his body fuse with the floor.

“We’ve got to figure out what this time period wants from us. Find whatever secret it’s hiding. There’s always a goal. The system just didn’t feel like giving us any hints,” Silvie added. “At least I met that really cute friend of yours.”

“Hm? I don’t think I’d really call them a friend,” Kei replied, voice slurred by exhaustion. “Just some kid I spoke with—talked about hunting … nothing serious.”

“Really?” Silvie mused. “But she was so cute and fra—”

“She?” Kei’s head suddenly lifted off the floor, neck muscles burning in protest. “I haven’t met anyshe besides you today.”

Silvie blinked. “Wait... what?”

Kei’s tired eyes narrowed. “I was talking to some scrawny guy during lunch.”

Silvie sat up straighter, alarm flashing in her eyes. “The girl I spoke with? Her name was Mia. She even said your name.”

Kei stared.

“I… never told anyone my name,” he said slowly.

Silence fell over the room, both of them suddenly wide awake.

“…Well, I hate this even more now,” Kei muttered, flopping back down again.

Silvie didn’t respond, but her fingers twitched slightly, her scarf shifting as faint pulses of Nature Force curled toward her subconsciously.

“It’s a shame. She’s cute, but I feel so bad for her,” Silvie said quietly, settling back against the worn wall behind her.

“You’ve probably met a lot of people in our position,” Kei muttered, still half-buried in the dirt. “What makes her stand out?”

“She’s just… so fragile. I think she has osteogenesis imperfecta,” Silvie replied, her tone softer than usual. “Her bones cracked just from eating. But even then, she was so happy. I used a bit of Nature Force on her food—just enough to boost the nutrients—and the way she lit up… you’d think it was a feast.”

“Brittle bones, huh?” Kei sighed, flipping onto his back with effort. “There’s not really a cure for that. Must be a painful life. Every day.”

A beat passed.

“You can still use Nature Force?” he asked, eyes flicking toward her. “I can barely even sense my Breeze Force. It’s like it’s there but… distant. Faint.”

“Oh, yeah. My Spark draws it in for me,” Silvie said casually, twirling the end of her scarf between her fingers. “I forgot—you only just accepted your God Spark title. I accepted mine when we entered the expanse.”

She glanced over at him. “Sparks act like a personalized embodiment of your force alignment. Kind of like aether going the extra mile to help us out. They usually show up as something sentimental. For me, it’s this scarf. For you? Who knows. Could be something that just screams, ‘this looks cool as hell.’ There's no set formula.”

Kei blinked slowly.

Then gave her a shaky thumbs up, arm trembling from the effort.

“…Thanks for the explanation,” he muttered, voice flat.

Silvie snorted. “You look like that hand’s about to break in two.”

“I feel like I’m about to break in two.”

“Well, sleep tight then, Mr. Half-Corpse.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

He didn’t say it aloud, but deep down, he was grateful she was still joking.

Even here.

Even now.

Early morning arrived like a slow exhale. The light was dim, the heat merciful—for now—and the air held the dry chill of dawn. It wasn’t restful, but it was quiet enough to think.

Kei and Silvie didn’t waste it.

They worked out their strategy while the village around them still slept—whispers traded in the dark corners of their decrepit room. Fitness, training, force gathering... and most importantly, food.

For all her foodie tendencies, Silvie knew nutrition mattered now more than ever. Their bodies, despite housing fragments of godlike force, were just flesh. And no force, no title, no secret aether could fix a body built from scraps and fed on dust. Not without work.

Kei had woken first, slipping outside into the yard and collecting a handful of pebbles—each one fitting roughly into the curve of his palm. He’d found a quiet corner and began slowly, using what little strength he’d regained to practice his throwing technique.

His aim was off. Timing, worse. His fingers trembled from overuse before he even got through the first few tosses. The precision, the effortless fluidity—gone. His body was raw, undertrained, unresponsive. Starting from scratch would be generous.

But…

He still felt it.

That lingering pulse deep inside—Shima Edgecraft: Stormpiercer Ascendant.

The connection wasn’t strong. More like a whisper than a voice. But it was there. A memory etched into his soul, not his stats. Even without the system skills he'd once had, that technique had imprinted itself too deeply to be erased.

He couldn’t fire like before. But the weapon was still inside him—if his body could withstand the strain.

Silvie had woken even earlier, seated in the corner with her scarf wound tightly around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slow—so slow it looked like sleep. But in truth, she was working, gathering Nature Force in tiny waves through her Spark. It was like trying to fill a lake with a teacup, but she did it anyway. Drop by drop.

It was all they had. And it was enough.

Once the morning passed and their individual routines came to an end, Silvie grabbed a jug and headed out to collect water from the nearest well.

Kei, meanwhile, turned his attention to the meager supply of food in the room. It wasn’t much: some rough grains, flour, a small pinch of salt, and barely enough to call seasoning. But they were lucky. There was a firepit outside, a cracked old pot, and a few bowls and utensils. Even a flat stone slab that could be used as a cooking surface.

It wasn’t a kitchen.

But it was something.

He crouched beside it and ran his fingers through the grains, examining texture, density, and moisture. His stomach rumbled softly. He ignored it.

It was going to be a long day.

But this time?

They’d be ready for it.

Kei returned from the village’s open-air market, arms full with what meager ingredients he could scrape together. His steps were heavy, the woven sandals offering no protection from the rocky terrain, and his back ached from haggling with merchants who looked ready to bite his head off for daring to bargain this early in the morning.

He hadn’t had enough money for everything, but he’d managed to convince one of the older merchants—a gruff woman with a scar down her lip—to let him walk away with goods on credit. With interest. Something he’d have to figure out before the sun went down.

Still, the haul wasn’t bad.

A small bundle of coarse salt, some cracked and dried herbs, a handful of withering root vegetables—mainly potatoes and carrots—and, most importantly, a wrapped cut of goat meat. Tough and lean, but protein-rich. Enough to split between two people and still leave them with something in their stomachs.

Silvie met him just outside their room, eyes lighting up the moment she spotted what he was carrying.

“Oh thank the stars—actual food,” she said, her voice already warming as she looked over the vegetables and meat. “Didn’t think we’d be this lucky.”

“Yeah, well, this is all the coin we had,” Kei muttered, setting the bundle down. “Had to owe her the rest. Said I’d pay with interest by the end of the day.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Silvie blinked. “Wait—you agreed to interest?”

“Didn’t really have much of a choice.”

“How much?”

“Didn’t ask.”

She stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Kei, that’s… incredible. Incredibly reckless.”

He shrugged. “Look, I didn’t want to come back empty-handed.”

She glanced at the vegetables again and poked a potato with a wrinkled frown. “These are barely edible.”

“They’re not rotten,” Kei pointed out.

“They’re auditioning for it.”

He crouched down and began sorting what he could salvage, retrieving a rusted kitchen knife from the room’s cooking corner. “Also, side note—we might owe rent. No idea how much. Or when.”

“Wait, we’re supposed to pay rent?”

“Probably.”

“...Don’t look at me! I always had adults handling that stuff.”

Kei grinned. “Back in the real world, I ran a business. Slept in a corner of the office most nights. Wherever they found me sleeping—under my desk, in the kitchen, passed out in the break room, even outside under the tree—the janitor always managed to find me and poke me awake with that stupid broom handle.”

He scratched his head. “All the bills and logistics were handled by actual professionals. I didn’t even have to think about rent or utilities, let alone pay them myself. So no clue how this kind of thing works.”

Silvie stared. “...You were basically homeless.”

“I was streamlined.”

Her stomach growled loudly in response.

“Just start cooking,” she grumbled. “I’m too hungry to deal with your vocabulary.”

Kei rolled up his sleeves. “You know, for someone supposedly raised to be Earth’s protector, you’ve got the patience of a toddler before breakfast.”

“Less talking. More food.”

Despite everything—the heat, the pain, the pressure—the two of them smiled, just for a second, and Kei got to work.

Kei made a simple breakfast—flatbread from the flour, a grain-based congee stewed with slivers of goat meat, all lightly seasoned. He hadn’t been overly worried about the condition of the vegetables; Silvie had already confirmed her Nature Force could nurture vegetation. He’d gambled their last coins on that ability—and it paid off.

With a small pulse of her Spark, the wilted greens regained some of their color. Even the grains and flour subtly improved under her touch. Not by much, but enough to matter.

Once everything was cooked and plated, Kei served her a modest spread—goat congee, bread, vegetables, and more roasted meat for protein. They ate slowly at first, relishing each bite, chewing carefully like it might vanish if they blinked.

By the time breakfast was over, most of the goat had already been used up. But neither of them cared. Their bodies, finally refueled with something more than sand and hope, responded in kind. The ache dulled. The strain lightened. For the first time since entering the Temporal Zone, they didn’t feel like corpses-in-training.

Since they had the day off, Silvie packed a portion of the food—bread, meat, and vegetables—and left to look for Mia. A small bag in hand, scarf fluttering behind her.

Kei stayed behind. His muscles still throbbed, but with the boost from breakfast, it was manageable. He stretched, focused on form and control. With strength returning to his limbs and protein settling into his system, every rep came smoother. Every motion more stable.

After a few hours, something clicked.

He caught it as it happened—familiar movement, familiar weight, familiar focus. He’d found his rhythm again. Not fully, not yet, but enough.

He checked his status screen.

[Skill Acquired: Basic Projectile Throwing]

A quiet grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Time to go hunting,” Kei said.

It took a bit of time for Silvie to locate her, but eventually, she spotted a frail, weak girl slowly exiting a nearby building—struggling to hold an empty clay jug, her steps slow and deliberate, as if afraid that a single misstep might shatter her bones.

“I’ll help you!” Silvie called out.

She rushed forward, careful not to startle her. Gently, she supported the girl with one arm and took the jug from her with the other, guiding her back inside her home with a light touch, like she was handling glass.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back with some water,” Silvie said with a smile, placing the wrapped bundle of food she’d brought on a nearby stool before slipping back out the door.

It didn’t take long before she returned, the jug now filled with clean water. “Here you go,” she said, setting it down carefully. “Also, I thought you might want something to eat. My friend made this—it’s really yummy.”

Mia’s eyes widened, her thin arms trembling slightly as she looked at the food. “Um… I’m sorry. You don’t have to, really, you don’t—” she said quickly, her voice shrinking.

“Don’t be daft. Eat,” Silvie said, crossing her arms with a stern look.

“Y-Yes, ma’am!” The meekness cracked for a moment under Silvie’s firm tone.

Mia gingerly picked up a small portion of food and brought it to her mouth. The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes lit up. Her face practically glowed as she chewed slowly and then let out a blissful hum. “Mmmhhmmm… so yummy,” she nearly sang, cheeks puffing in delight.

“I’m gonna save some for Kei,” she added quickly between bites, trying to pace herself. “So he can have some good food too! Thank you so much—you’re so kind!”

Silvie just smiled.

In the same breath Silvie went off in search of Mia, Kei quietly slipped out of the village’s outskirts, scanning the dry terrain for anything he could hunt. He kept low, observing from the shade of crumbling walls and tall rocks, eyes narrowed as he tracked the movements of the local wildlife. His breath slowed, pace measured, as he watched their routines and behavior.

Some animals moved in clusters—light, fast, twitchy. Not worth the effort.

Others were larger, solitary, thickly muscled. Worth it… maybe. But not yet.

Eventually, he found a herd of goats grazing beyond the edge of a cracked ridge. Only, these weren’t Earth goats. They were bigger. Leaner. Their horns curved like scimitars, and their eyes burned with an intelligence that made him hesitate. Their muscle tone alone made it clear—these weren’t prey to just walk up and try his luck with.

He stayed crouched, watching them from a safe distance, calculating.

“Hmm. How do you think we should go about it?” a voice said casually from right next to him.

Kei didn’t even look. “Knock them out, of course.”

“I like your idea.”

That made him pause.

He finally glanced over and saw the boy next to him—about his age, messy hair, sun-weathered skin, eyes far too bright for someone living in the slums. In his hands was a rock, tied with a frayed rope. He swung it a few times like a makeshift sling, then launched it at the goats.

It missed. Completely.

But with a quick tug of the rope, the stone zipped back to his hand. He started wrapping the rope around the stone again, grinning.

“My name’s Kei, Kei Moriyama by the way,” the boy said without missing a beat.

Kei’s brow twitched. He blinked.

“…Khenu,” he replied flatly.

The boy gave him a lopsided grin. “Cool name. Let’s see if we can bag one of these things before the sun cooks us.”

Kei didn’t respond, but a slow, amused exhale slipped out through his nose.

Of course the weird kid trying to knock out murder-goats with a rope-wrapped rock would also be named Kei.

The universe had jokes.

“That’s an interesting tool you’ve got there,” Kei Y muttered, eyeing the rope-wrapped stone in Kei M’s hand. “Does it work well?”

“It’s been useful in the past,” Kei M replied, giving it another idle twirl. “Sometimes hard to aim with the thing though—kinda depends on the wind.”

Kei M shifted his stance slightly, keeping his eyes on the goats grazing below. “So… what’s your idea for dealing with them?”

“I was just gonna pelt them with rocks, really,” Kei Y answered without hesitation, as if it was the most normal plan in the world.

Before Kei M even had time to fully process the answer, a sharp thunk cracked through the air beside him.

A muffled bang. A startled bleat.

One of the goats stumbled, blood dripping from its shoulder. It didn’t collapse, but it backed away nervously, clearly wounded.

Kei M turned his head slowly.

“…Cool,” he said, completely unfazed.

Kei Y simply stretched his fingers and rolled his shoulder, eyes flicking back to the rest of the herd as if nothing had happened. The pebbles in his pouch clinked softly as he adjusted his stance, already tracking his next shot.

“You know,” Kei M added, smirking, “I think I’m gonna like you.”

With its injuries, it didn’t take long for both Keis to finish off the goat.

“Whew. That went easier than I expected,” Kei M said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Thanks to you, I finally killed one of these things. Never done it before. Now I can bring some meat back for my friend—hopefully it’ll help her get stronger.” He grinned, proud of the accomplishment.

“Glad I could help,” Kei Y replied. “We should probably get another one or two while we’re out here—if you don’t mind helping.”

“Of course I don’t,” Kei M responded without hesitation.

“May I see that thing?” Kei Y asked, nodding toward the rope-and-stone tool.

A bit confused, Kei M handed it over.

Kei Y examined it quickly, adjusting the knot tension, rebalancing the stone, and tightening the loop around the base. After a few quick tweaks, he handed it back.

“Alright. Try throwing it again now.”

Kei M gave it a spin and let it fly. Thunk. It struck its mark. His eyes widened slightly.

He tested it out a few more times—hit after hit, his aim more consistent than before.

“Seemed like the balance was off,” Kei Y said casually, brushing dust from his palms. “I just adjusted it a bit.”

“Thanks, man,” Kei M grinned. “Now I really owe you.”

They both laughed.

“Too bad the rest of the goats ran off pretty far,” Kei Y commented, scanning the dunes.

“No worries,” Kei M replied, tilting his head. “I can still hear them. Feel the vibrations when they move—kinda like tracking through sound.”

“You can hear that far?” Kei Y asked, raising a brow.

“Yup.” Kei M grinned.

With no time to waste, the two set off in pursuit. Kei Y fell back into his old strategies—targeting the eyes with carefully aimed pebbles. Kei M followed up with precise throws from his improved tool, landing clean hits.

The goats were fast, wild, and stronger than expected. But bruises and scrapes aside, the two Keis managed to bring down two more by working in sync—one striking blind, the other striking true.

As they stood over the last goat, both panting slightly, they turned to each other.

“Thanks for your help,” both said at the same time.

A pause.

“If you ever need help, feel free to let me know,” they said again, in perfect unison.

They blinked at each other.

Then both broke out laughing.

Our Kei returned to his and Silvie’s shared shack, dropping off one of the goats they’d killed earlier. The moment the meat hit the ground with a solid thud, Silvie popped her head out of the doorway.

“Oh stars, you really did it,” she said, blinking at the fresh goat carcass.

“Protein solves problems,” Kei replied with a grin, wiping some of the dried blood off his hands.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the village, the vendor who had sold Kei the meat on credit was still muttering to herself.

“That brat better pay me back by sundown… thinks he can just vanish with my goods? I’ll have him strung up by—"

Her internal monologue screeched to a halt when she heard a dullplop right in front of her stall.

A whole goat carcass.

Just lying there.

She blinked once. Twice. Then squinted up at the scrawny, blood-covered boy standing over it.

Kei grinned.

“Told you I’d pay you back—with interest.”

The woman’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Uhhh… this is… way more than I expected, idiot.” She rubbed her nose, trying to hide her guilt. “Here, take a few coins back. I’m not about to owe you, of all people.”

Then she really looked at him.

Blood splattered across his front. Bruises forming under his jaw. Scratches, cuts, small tears across his arms and legs. But the goat in front of him wasn’t nearly bloody enough to explain all of that.

She narrowed her eyes, suspicion creeping in as she stared at the goat carcass… then at the blood-covered boy grinning like he didn’t just crawl out of a warzone.

“…What the hell did you do for this thing?” she asked flatly.

Kei just chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a casual shrug.

“Thanks for the trust. I used up all the coin we had on breakfast,” he said, voice light like it was no big deal. “Had to figure something out after that. Now I might actually be able to pay rent.”

He didn’t say anything else.

He’d solved the problem.

That was enough.

He didn’t mention the group of older boys—half-starved and desperate—who tried to rob him as he dragged both goat corpses back into town.

Didn’t mention how they threatened to kill him.

Didn’t mention how they laughed at his size.

And certainly didn’t mention how they dropped screaming when pebbles embedded in their eyes with surgical precision.

A few were tougher—resistant to blindness, seasoned with grit—but Zeph’s training had done its work. Kei used a sharpened rock like a dagger, turned the tide, and walked away.

He hadn’t wanted to kill them.

But some fights didn’t give you a choice.

By the time he’d finished cleaning the worst of it off, the system chimed softly in his mind.

[New Passive Skill Unlocked]

[Ocular Puncture Proficiency] (Passive)

• Description: Your consistent precision strikes to ocular regions have honed an unorthodox—but effective—skill.

• Effect: Projectiles aimed at the eyes gain +15% accuracy and +15% critical hit chance. Successful hits may induce temporary blindness, vertigo, or visual distortion depending on the target’s resilience.

• Flavor Text: “Keep aiming for the eyes, huh? Fine. Have a skill for it, you menace.”

“…Is the system making fun of me?”

He sighed.

“Eh. I’ll take it. Who knows what else I’ll need to blind.”

Then he turned and walked away, coins jingling in his hand and blood drying on his shirt, already thinking about what kind of seasoning he’d use on the next batch of goat stew.