Veil of Aether

“So… are we just supposed to ignore the fact that we don’t even know who the two of you are?” Kai asked, as he stared at Lisa and Jenny.

“Yeah, seriously,” Owen added, turning to Jenny. “And what do you mean by ‘boss’? What exactly is Kei to you?”

Before she could answer, Reese cut in, eyes wide with dramatic disbelief. “And how did he manage to get two ridiculously attractive women to come all the way out here looking for him?!”

Kai and Owen both nodded furiously in agreement, like that was the real mystery.

Meanwhile, Talia was already sprawled across Wooloo, fast asleep, completely unbothered.

Hachi, curious as ever, wandered over to Lisa and began sniffing her. When he received a few pats and scratches, he immediately flopped down and started wagging his tail like a content puppy. Lisa giggled and gave him more attention, clearly delighted.

Jenny, however, didn’t share the mood. She blinked, slowly rising back up from her nap position.

“I should be the one asking who you guys are,” she said, voice flat but dangerous. “I’ve known Kei for the past five years. None of you look familiar.”

In the blink of an eye, her scythe was in hand—its edge glinting as force and aether surged through it.

The three guys instantly tensed, hands going to their weapons, ready to defend themselves—

“We’re his test subjects,” Talia mumbled, eyes still closed as she rubbed Wooloo’s wool.

Jenny paused. Slowly turned.

“…You’re still alive?” she asked, scythe lowering an inch. “Impressive. I have to admit.”

She dismissed the weapon and let out a soft huff, as if that answered enough for now.

Reese finally broke the moment of silence. “Okay, seriously—who is Kei? Why is he your boss? You’re so freakishly strong, it doesn’t make sense.”

Jenny just stretched lazily, arms raised behind her head, posture relaxed again. “You’ll understand eventually. Probably. Hopefully.”

She didn’t say anything more—but the smile tugging at the edge of her lips, paired with the unreadable gleam in her eyes, left them all more confused than reassured.

Everyone slowly turned to Lisa, expectant.

“Oh, me?” she said, blinking rapidly. “Um—I met him a few days ago. He came to buy some tools, and we became friends. Then he kind of… trained me? Like, physically. Without using the system, just actual body training, and um…”

She looked increasingly flustered, hands fidgeting at her sides. “And he asked me to help him craft this weapon-thingy for him. I just thought I should drop it by.”

The rest of the group exchanged glances. That all sounded weirdly on-brand for Kei. They just nodded, already half-accepting it.

Then Lisa added, a little too quickly: “Also, I’m his wife. He came by, swept me off my feet, and took me off the market.” She giggled, cheeks slightly red.

“WHAT?!” the guys shouted in unison, eyes bugging out.

Meanwhile, Jenny’s eyes had locked onto the custom weapon Lisa was carrying. Her expression had changed—less playful now, more somber.

“That design… it’s exactly like the one his dad gave his mom before they…” Jenny’s voice trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Lisa blinked. “Oh, you know about them too?”

Jenny nodded slowly, eyes still on the weapon. “Yeah. He keeps the original in the corner of his office. Cherry blossoms carved into the handle, same exact detailing.”

Everyone went quiet.

Somehow, the strange weapon in Lisa’s hands suddenly felt heavier. Not because of its weight—but the meaning behind it.

Jenny’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “He must really trust you.”

Lisa said nothing, her hands tightening ever so slightly around the grip.

“WAIT—HE’S THE IDIOT YOU SAID YOU MARRIED?!” Jenny suddenly exploded, shooting to her feet and grabbing Lisa by the shoulders. Her usual laziness evaporated as she shook her with enough force to rattle bones. “AND THAT IDIOT DIDN’T INVITE ME TO THE WEDDING EITHER?! I’M GONNA KILL THE BOTH OF YOU!”

The rest of the group could only stare in wide-eyed horror as Jenny tried to shake Lisa’s soul out of her.

“Hey! Take that up with my husband! He’s the one who changed my name from Lisa Moriyama to Lisa Yuichi—I had nothing to do with it!” Lisa protested, wobbling back and forth.

“You did say ‘I do,’” Talia muttered, half-asleep from atop Wooloo’s back.

That earned another howl of outrage from Jenny.

It took all three guys to pry Jenny off Lisa. After a few more muttered death threats, she finally calmed down, slumping back to the grass with crossed arms and an offended pout.

“To think… you actually married into that fortune,” she muttered with a quiet laugh.

“Fortune?” Talia sat up instantly, eyes gleaming with sudden interest. “Wait—how much are we talking? Are we getting paid for being test subjects? Hurry and tell us, lady!”

Jenny whipped her head around. “You’re older than me! Don’t call me lady like I’m ancient!” she snapped.

Then she huffed. “And I don’t know exactly, okay? We’ve been away from Earth for a while. Who knows what the current value of Cherry Tree Inc. even is anymore?”

It was like she dropped a bomb.

Talia froze.

Kai’s jaw hit the metaphorical floor.

Reese looked like he forgot how to breathe.

Owen actually blinked twice—twice—which for him meant total shock.

“...You guys didn’t know?” Jenny asked slowly, her eyes scanning them one by one. “Seriously?”

Nobody answered.

Then, without missing a beat, she pointed at Zeph, who’d been quietly watching her the entire time.

“And why is that monkey staring at me like that?”

Zeph tilted his head slightly.

Still staring.

Unblinking.

Tail twitching.

“…He’s sizing you up,” Owen said blankly.

“For what?” Jenny asked.

Lisa, still recovering from being rattled like a maraca, just muttered, “Probably trying to figure out how you’d rank on Kei’s personal chaos scale.”

“Oh, I’m top tier,” Jenny said proudly. “Just wait till he sees me here.”

Zeph’s tail flicked again, just once.

Then he nodded.

Jenny narrowed her eyes. “Was that a threat or a greeting?”

Silence.

Then, from behind her, Talia whispered, “Yes.”

“Cherry Tree Inc?” Lisa echoed, tapping her finger to her lip like she was trying to gauge the worth of a fruit stand, not a world-dominating conglomerate. “I mean, I guess they should have a decent chunk of change.”

Everyone’s head whipped around to stare at her.

“Alright, Lisa,” Jenny said slowly, her tone shifting from playful to uncomfortably serious. “You clearly have secrets, and sure—you don’t have to tell us…”

She stepped closer, eyes locked onto her friend.

“…But just so you know—I will vibrate the soul out of your body if you don’t start talking.”

Lisa blinked.

Jenny’s gaze dropped—right to a faint mark on Lisa’s leg, partially visible through the edge of her clothing. Her expression darkened.

“And before you even think about asking how I know,” she added, her voice low, “the technology that regrew that leg? That was invented by your husband.”

Lisa froze, a hand unconsciously drifting toward the faint scar.

Everyone else looked from Lisa to Jenny, then back again—staring at the mark they hadn’t noticed before.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

It wasn’t just a scar.

It was an identifier.

A subtle brand etched into regenerated limbs—left behind by one of Kei’s most groundbreaking innovations on Earth.

Back before all this.

Back when Kei Yuichi had been a living legend, not just in combat or force mastery—but in science, medicine, and sheer world-altering genius.

Before he became a ghost.

Back when he’d built Cherry Tree Inc. from nothing and rewrote every record he touched.

His company had changed the world.

And among his greatest feats? A revolutionary breakthrough: regrowing lost limbs—perfectly functional, fully integrated, and marked by a single unique identifier to distinguish natural tissue from Kei’s creation.

Lisa said nothing.

Didn’t deny it.

Didn’t need to.

Jenny’s expression softened, just slightly.

“So…” she said, quieter now. “You gonna tell me who exactly you are? Or do I keep connecting dots?”

Lisa looked down at her leg, then at the others. There was no panic in her expression—just quiet resignation. The kind someone wears when they know a truth can’t be avoided anymore.

“…Guess it’s about time I stop pretending I’m just a woodworker, huh?” she muttered.

“Ya think?” Reese mumbled, eyes still wide.

“Wait. Kei regrew your leg?” Kai asked.

“And married you after?” Owen added, clearly spiraling.

Talia raised her hand weakly from where she was sprawled. “So… can we get medical coverage in our test subject contracts, or…?”

Jenny just shook her head, already regretting asking the question at all.

Zeph, as always, just kept staring.

“Well,” Lisa began, brushing her hair behind her ear as all eyes shifted to her, “I figured you guys would learn this eventually… granted you live long enough.”

She didn’t say it as a threat—but something about the way she said it made everyone sit up a little straighter.

“One thing you’ll come to understand,” she continued, “is that this whole Force and aether thing? It wasn’t some mystical accident that only started just recently. Back on Earth… certain groups already knew. Kept it under wraps for the most part.”

That got their attention.

Lisa nodded. “My family—the Moriyama family—is one of those groups.”

Reese tilted his head. “You’re saying your family knew about aether? About Force?”

“Knew it. Studied it. Prepared for it.” Lisa’s voice was even. “See, growing up, we were taught from a young age that a shift would come—when force and aether would reawaken in the world. That we had to be ready when it did. But honestly?”

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

“I didn’t want any of it.”

She leaned back against Wooloo, arms crossed, the past painting itself in her voice.

“I lost my leg a few years ago. A dumb accident. Nothing heroic. After that, I moved in with my grandmother—she was the only one in the family who didn’t care about training or destiny. Just a quiet old woman who loved woodcarving.”

Lisa smiled faintly. “She taught me everything she knew. And I loved it. I was perfectly happy doing nothing but carving wood and living a quiet life. No force, no combat, no pressure.”

She glanced down at her leg, gently touching the faint mark left by the regenerative tech.

“Then the limb-regrowth tech came out. Of course I got it. But while everyone else in my family jumped back into training… I just kept carving.”

Everyone stayed silent, caught in the weight of what she was saying.

Lisa let out a breath. “My family’s history is something any bloodline in existence would be proud of. We have scrolls—records of our ancestors and their feats. One in particular stands out.”

She lifted her chin, eyes distant now. “It says, ‘And then he declared to the heavens, I am the Supreme God of Sound. I am the God of Martial Arts—the God of Control.’”

There was a pause.

Then she added, almost awkwardly, “…While holding a yo-yo.”

Everyone blinked.

“My ancestor’s name,” Lisa said, a small, proud smile curling her lips, “was Kei Moriyama.”

Lisa chuckled, but the sadness in her eyes never quite left. “It’s a name I was always proud of. But also… a burden I never wanted. I didn’t want to be dragged into this world. I never wanted to follow a legacy.”

She folded her arms again, voice softening. “But here I am anyway.”

Talia groaned as she rolled off Wooloo’s back and hit the ground. “Just what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”

Jenny hadn’t said a word throughout the whole speech, her eyes fixed on Lisa as if trying to read between every line. Even now, she stayed quiet.

Then, as if her brain had decided it was too early for this much history and cosmic legacy, Jenny just plopped onto the ground and muttered, “Okay…”

And that was that.

For now.

“How about you?” Kai asked Jenny. “How did you end up working for Kei?”

“Mind your business,” Jenny shot back instantly, making Kai recoil a little, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“What!? That’s not fair, blondie! You made me spill all my secrets—I’m gonna drag the truth outta your vocal cords if I have to!” Lisa shouted as she lunged at Jenny, tackling her to the ground.

The two immediately began rolling around in the grass, scuffling like wildcats.

The others stood there, watching blankly.

“…Should we stop them?” Reese asked.

“Nope,” Kai replied flatly. “Just start walking away. Quietly. Maybe find a cliff.”

Back in the temporal dungeon—

Kei M was off to the side, spinning and launching his new weapon with increasing precision. The yo-yo hybrid flowed better than his old rope rock ever did, moving in smooth arcs and snapping back with pulses of Sound Force. Each time it landed a hit on the head of someone waking up, a low resonant hum echoed through their skulls as they passed back out.

“Really is incredible,” he murmured, eyes locked on the weapon in admiration.

Meanwhile, Kei Y was putting the finishing touches on the armor and weapons he had crafted for the team. For himself, he used goat horns and treated leather to forge a lightweight armor set, careful to leave enough room for flexibility and movement. With vines reinforced by Silvie’s Nature Force, he stitched together matching gear for everyone else.

“All right, I’m done here for now. Let’s go,” Kei Y said, brushing dust from his hands.

“Give me one sec,” Kei M replied. He walked among the unconscious cultivators, drawing faint rune strokes onto their bodies—subtle, unnoticeable to the hosts, but perfectly visible to those he intended to send a message to. Whoever those people were, they'd feel it. They’d understand. And it would make them restless.

With that complete, the two returned to the house.

The moment they stepped inside, they saw Mia jabbing her trident wildly at Silvie, who was calmly deflecting each thrust like it was nothing. Mia locked eyes with the two Keis, pleading mid-swing. “Please help!”

“No,” both replied instantly, flat as stone.

Mia looked seconds from crying.

“Hey, Mia,” Kei M called. “You’re aligned with give and take, right? Try applying that. Not just in principle—make it practical.”

“Huh?” Mia blinked, barely dodging another strike.

She thought about it. Her whole life she had been fragile—bones weak, movement stiff. But now she was fighting. Standing. Balanced. She’d taken a lot from the world... maybe it was time to give some of it back.

Then it happened.

A palm strike came from Silvie—one that should’ve connected cleanly.

But it didn’t.

Mia dodged.

And then dodged again.

Then again.

“Whoa… she’s faster than before,” Inpu said, eyes wide with disbelief.

The others looked on, surprised and impressed. Silvie, for her part, simply smiled. Calm. Proud.

“Looks like you’re finally getting the hang of your Force,” she said.

As the others praised Mia’s progress, cheering her on and smiling at how far she’d come, none of them realized what was really happening beneath the surface.

Mia’s Balance Force had begun responding in a far more profound way than any of them expected.

To give herself speed and strength, she had knowingly offered something in return—her own physical stability. Her bones, once weakened from frailty and fear, were now being weakened again—but this time by her own hand. Her Force, in turn, compensated for that sacrifice.

She had made a choice: to give away the fortune of her stability in exchange for another kind of strength.

And her Force listened.

The result was shocking.

Her balance improved. Her limbs moved faster. Her strikes had more weight behind them, more grace. She became stronger, quicker, more dexterous. But it came at a cost—and she could feel every ounce of it.

Each motion came with a sting. Every successful dodge sent a pulse of pain down her spine. Her body was shifting, transforming—but it wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t merciful. The more she embraced this method of growth, the more it reminded her of the pain she thought she’d left behind.

The others didn’t notice the change right away.

But Kei M did.

His Sound Force picked up on the strain in her breathing, the subtle tremble in her steps. He caught the faint edge in her voice every time she exhaled, even as she smiled through it.

“All right, Sanu,” Kei M called out, serious now. “That’s enough. She’s making her bones weaker to get stronger.”

Silvie froze mid-strike. Her eyes flicked toward Mia—reading her energy, watching her stance.

Then she gave a slight nod and stepped in smoothly, delivering a light but firm palm strike to Mia’s chest.

Mia dropped flat onto her back, winded, limbs sprawled.

“Good idea,” Silvie said, standing over her. “But be careful not to overdo it.”

Mia winced but smiled up at her. “Okay…”

After that, the group finally took a moment to rest and breathe. They’d pushed hard—some more than others—and it was time to recover.

Once everyone had settled, Kei Y stepped forward and began distributing the equipment he’d crafted back in the district. The gear was sleek, well-balanced, and custom-fit with subtle enhancements drawn from each person’s Force alignment. He had poured not only his aether into the work but Silvie’s Nature Force as well, granting each item an added vitality.

For himself, Kei Y now wielded a newly reforged Gale Fang—a lightweight blade carved from rare piece of wood nurtured and hardened by Silvie’s Nature Force. The material, originally brittle, had been steeped in her aether until it became denser than bone, yet retained a natural flexibility that made it perfect for channeling wind.

The edge had been sharpened with wind-aligned rune strokes, layered in subtle etchings that pulsed faintly when swung. The blade wasn’t forged in fire but shaped by steady hands, careful carving, and precise pressure, forming a weapon that breathed with the same flow as its wielder.

The handle had been wrapped with reinforced vines—also Silvie’s contribution—woven tightly for grip and embedded with windrunes so delicate they looked like the veins of a leaf. When Kei Y held it, it felt more like an extension of his will than a crafted weapon.

It didn’t hum with menace.

It whispered.

Silvie watched silently as Kei Y gave it a few test swings. The air parted around it in gentle gusts, each motion trailing a soft breeze that lingered in the wake of its arc.

After resting, Kei Y had gone to make them a meal with Mia acting as an aide in the kitchen, and the food had been quickly prepared

“Wow, God Sparks really are amazing,” Inpu said, genuinely impressed as he watched Mia swing her legs from the seat, mouth stuffed with food. “So she’s got a really good shot at becoming the Supreme God of Balance, huh? But… how does that work? Isn’t there supposed to be only one at any given time?”

“I’ve been wondering that too,” Kei Y added, glancing toward Silvie. “How does that even work?”

“Simple, really,” Silvie replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “It’s based on force progression. The person with the highest progression in a major force—across all of existence—has the right to claim themselves as the Supreme God of that force.”

“That’s it?” Mia asked, cheeks full, blinking in surprise.

“Try saying it out loud,” Silvie suggested with a small grin. “Say it like you mean it. Declare it.”

Mia swallowed her food with an excited gulp, sat up straight, and proudly declared, “I’m the Supreme God of Balance!”

Inpu clapped.

“Kei! I’m the—” she began to shout again, turning toward him enthusiastically.

But Silvie held up a hand. “Now try again,” she said calmly. “This time, focus your aether into your words. Combine it with your will. Make the same claim—but as if the world should acknowledge it.”

Mia blinked. Then nodded. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and focused.

She opened her mouth to speak—but nothing came out.

Her lips moved, her face strained, her entire body tensed… but not a single sound escaped.

“She’s not saying anything,” Inpu said, glancing between the others.

“She can’t,” Kei M said flatly, arms crossed. “No one can claim to be the Supreme God of a major force unless they actually are. If you try to make a real declaration and your force progression isn’t the highest, existence itself rejects your claim. It’s not just words—it’s recognition. And if you don’t have the standing, your will won’t manifest the statement.”

“That’s… kind of weird,” Kei Y muttered. “But also convenient?”

“Very effective,” Silvie added. “It keeps pretenders from running their mouths. And it’s a neat way to check who’s legit.”

Mia finally exhaled, gasping slightly. “That was so hard…”

“Means someone else has the throne for now,” Silvie said kindly. “But you’re getting closer.”

Everyone went back to eating in peace, the energy relaxed again.

After a full meal and some quiet conversation, they settled down for the night. The stars shimmered faintly above, the wind rustled gently through the trees, and calm finally returned to the house.

The next morning came far too quickly.

A familiar knock echoed against the front door.

Rhythmic. Sharp. Official.

Kei and Silvie both froze mid-stretch.

“…It’s him again, isn’t it?” Kei muttered, already getting up.

“Yep,” Silvie sighed. “Same supervisor as before.”

Inpu blinked. “Wait—who?”

“Trouble,” Kei M said knowingly, already turning to unlock the door.