Veil of Aether

With such an explosive display to mark the beginning of the tournament's first challenge, all eyes were drawn toward the Amunar Kingdom's Recruit Class participants. Even their fellow Amunar recruits couldn’t help but glance over with confusion and a tinge of disbelief.

These five masked figures—clearly teammates—had already earned a reputation before the challenge began. Each of them had effortlessly dismantled their peers during practice matches. At best, the others had managed to draw a few beads of sweat from one of them before being utterly crushed.

Now, watching that same masked teammate blast a path through the sky, even the other kingdoms couldn’t ignore them.

Some sneered at the dramatic display.

Others nodded with interest, taking mental notes on Kei Y’s weapon, his power, and his physical appearance for later.

Even the Soldier Class and Specialist Class participants narrowed their eyes in silence. Some shifted their stances. A few whispered among themselves. Their evaluation had changed. New threats had emerged.

But the five masked participants didn’t care.

They hadn’t reacted to the stares. They hadn’t even glanced at the watching crowd. Especially not Kei Y and Silvie.

Because just before the challenge started, while everyone else was still sizing each other up, Kei Y and Silvie had received a system message—

Not a quest.

Not a reward.

Not a warning.

It was something different.

And it shattered everything.

This wasn’t just going to rewrite Earth’s history.

It was going to burn it.

Because standing among the competitors—and even on their own team—were beings who, by all accounts, shouldn’t exist.

Not according to history.

Not according to science.

Not according to religion.

They would rather believe Earth had the monstrous, one-in-a-billion fortune to birth four God Sparks throughout its existence… than accept what was unfolding before them.

Because if this was true…

Then Earth’s history wasn’t just wrong.

It was fabricated.

At some point during their arrival, when Emory gathered the kids to introduce them to the other Amunar teams, he unknowingly left two of them behind.

Kei Y and Silvie.

He only noticed when they didn’t show up alongside the others—turning around to find the pair frozen in place, still standing where they’d been dropped off. Their heads tilted slightly upward, eyes unfocused but wide.

“…You two okay?” Emory asked, brow furrowing.

No response.

Neither Kei Y nor Silvie looked at him.

They just kept staring upward. Not at the sky—at something only they could see.

It clicked quickly for Emory.

A system message.

And not just a minor one. He’d seen this reaction before—when the system offered something heavy. Dangerous. Maybe even world-shaking.

He grew concerned.

What kind of request had the system sent them? Was it something they couldn’t handle? Something they couldn’t refuse?

He wasn’t wrong to worry.

But he wasn’t right for the reasons he assumed.

Kei Y and Silvie weren’t frozen because they were overwhelmed.

They were frozen because they were in disbelief.

Their system prompt glowed in front of them—unchanging, insistent.

[Before you lay the truth of your planet. All that were thought to be myths and legends—spoken of only in religions, mythos, and cultural tales—stand before you as your opponents. Among them, some stand as your allies.]

[Due to your planet's historical disconnection from aether and the cultivation world, the truth of its past was distorted. The names of these figures were forgotten or turned into legend. Some were worshipped. Some demonized. Others dismissed entirely.]

[Their return marks the reawakening of Earth’s true legacy. Correcting your world’s history will realign its position in the cultivation hierarchy, grant access to hidden relics, divine trials, and legacy worlds that cannot otherwise be touched.]

[Would you like to accept the mission to restore your planet’s rightful truth and reintroduce the names and deeds of these ancient beings to the world?]

The message ended with a soft chime.

Kei Y and Silvie both blinked.

And then, in perfect sync, answered aloud:

“NAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

The entire plaza turned in their direction.

Other recruit class tilted their heads.

Soldier class raised eyebrows.

Specialist class paused mid-conversation.

Even a few other kingdoms’ elites whispered among themselves.

“…Did they just say no to the system?”

“…What kind of mission did they even get?”

“…Who even are they?”

A moment later, a system prompt reappeared, only for Kei Y and Silvie:

[Re-requesting mission acceptance: Unlock Earth’s forgotten legacies. Secure access to ancient domains. Establish Earth’s divine pantheon.]

Their answer was immediate.

“NAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

Again.

A pause.

[.................................]

The system seemed genuinely stunned.

And then, quietly, it disappeared.

“I’m not rewriting Earth’s history,” Silvie complained. “I don’t care if Zeus, Anubis, or fucking Thor is standing in front of me—let Earth figure it out on its own.”

“I’m not explaining this to Twitter,” Kei Y added.

“Hmmm?” The Crown Prince of Amunar turned his head at the sound of Silvie’s outburst, his gaze lingering a moment too long.

Silvie glanced at him. “What?”

He blinked. “Oh… uh, nothing. Just… thought I heard something familiar.”

In front of them stood the participants from the other kingdoms—representatives of Kingdoms that could only be described as Greece, Japan, China, Jerusalem, and India, with Amunar representing Egypt, stood among them, with each kingdom fielding teams from the Recruit, Soldier, and Specialist Class divisions.

“…Did these countries ever have kingdoms?” Silvie asked, her voice low but undeniably curious.

Kei Y shook his head slowly. “I don’t know anything. Just seeing these people here is hard enough to wrap my head around. And the fact they’re all so distinct—so easy to recognize from their stories? I give up,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping across the field of competitors.

But these weren’t just ordinary participants.

Before them stood living legends—figures spoken of in religious texts, ancient myths, epic poems, and even portrayed in modern books, video games, and movies. And yet, here they were—undeniably real. Manifestations of myth given flesh, each radiating a force presence that defied belief.

It was shocking enough to see such names and faces gathered in one place… but what truly baffled Silvie was the Crown Prince of Amunar, Kei M's older brother.

At first, she hadn’t paid him much attention. But over time—through sparse observations, the way he moved, how others reacted around him—she’d started piecing together fragments of his abilities and Force alignment. Most of that information she had… extracted… from Kei M, though he’d been extremely reluctant to speak about his older brother.

Still, Silvie hadn’t thought much of it.

Until now.

Until she looked at the other participants—legends—and felt something click.

Because if those beings were real, then the way Auserre spoke of the Crown Prince’s immense strength… made far too much sense.

And only one legendary figure came to mind.

Only one name fit the power, the authority, and the overwhelming presence he gave off.

But what she couldn’t understand—what left her more confused than any myth standing before her—was why that legendary figure was standing in Egypt.

Silvie slowly turned her head to glance at Kei Y.

He was already looking at her.

Their eyes met. No words needed to be said.

He already knew what she was thinking.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I have no idea,” Kei Y said quietly.

And that only made the silence heavier.

Seeing the masked Amunar participants acting oddly—clearly reacting to some system message—the other kingdoms’ representatives couldn’t help but scoff.

“Tsk. Pathetic. Can’t even carry out a simple request from the system? Amunar’s fallen so low, this is the best they can do?”

“They’re probably just here to make up numbers,” another muttered. “Look at them. They don’t even dare show their faces.”

One participant from Greece—clearly feeling bold—stepped forward from the Soldier Class ranks. He strolled up to Kei Y with a mocking grin and reached for his mask.

“Hey, kid. Why don’t you show us what you look like? No need to be shy.”

Kei Y didn’t move. His tone was calm.

“Your mother didn’t think I was shy last night. What surprised me is that you feel comfortable walking around in public with a face like that.”

The Greek soldier froze, and the veins in his forehead twitched.

“You—”

“I’m not saying you’re ugly,” Kei Y continued casually. “I’m just saying, if I had your face and had to stand next to your teammates every day, I’d feel a little... inferior. The fact that you don’t? Honestly commendable.”

He even sounded genuinely impressed.

“Don’t feel bad, though. In every group, someone has to be the least attractive. In your case, it just so happens to be you. That’s not a bad thing.”

The silence that followed was tense—until Kei Y suddenly stepped to the side, as if sensing something.

Behind him, a second participant—a Recruit Class member from Greece—had tried to sneak up on him.

Kei Y spun, lifted his leg, and slammed a brutal roundhouse kick directly into the attacker’s face.

CRACK.

The force of the blow sent the recruit flying. His body slammed into the ground hard enough to crack the stone beneath, leaving a crater as he lay motionless—out cold.

Kei Y yawned, clearly bored, still standing on the unconscious body beneath him.

“Hey, kid, don’t you think that was a bit ruthless?” the soldier class participant asked, surprised by the casual brutality.

“Nah,” Kei Y replied, stretching with one arm above his head while scratching his belly. “Felt pretty mild, honestly.”

“Boy, you’d do well to take your foot off my participant,” a calm but commanding woman’s voice echoed across the plaza.

Kei Y glanced over lazily. “You’d do well to lose weight, you fat, obese bitch.”

Gasps erupted around them.

“You dare speak to me so?” she asked, her tone now sharp with danger.

“I wouldn’t dare touch you. You might give me diabetes,” Kei Y said without missing a beat, still yawning.

“Emory,” the woman snapped, turning toward the representative of Amunar Kingdom. “You dare allow a member of your delegation to speak to me in such a way?”

Still smiling, hands folded behind his back, Emory gave a polite nod. “Ah, Queen Thalia. It’s good to see you again. You’re looking quite… lovely today.”

“You’re quite the liar, aren’t you, old man?” Kei Y added, giving Emory a sideways look.

Emory smiled wider but didn’t respond, clearly enjoying playing this charade with Kei Y.

“Emory!” the Crown Prince called, his posture stiffening. “How can you let him be so disrespectful to a queen? He’s ruining the image of our kingdom—”

CRACK.

Before he could finish his sentence, Emory casually slapped him.

One open-handed strike.

And the Crown Prince went flying—disappearing into the distance like a comet, trailing dust and shockwaves, his body sailing for several kilometers.

Silence fell.

Then the silence was broken by a pained groan. Everyone looked around, only to notice it was from the person below Kei Y's foot. The closer they paid attention, the more they noticed healing force was radiating from Kei Y's foot

“Knocked him out, then healed him… I don’t know what to think about you, kid,” Emory said, still smiling at Kei Y with that ageless serenity.

“Hmph. You have some sense at least,” Queen Thalia scoffed.

In another area, a few participants glanced toward Kei Y, surprised that someone so vicious had Healing Force and was so physically strong. One person in particular, who was cultivating with both eyes closed, slightly opened one eye.

"That’s a really high quality of Healing Force… interesting," he muttered, then closed his eyes and resumed cultivating.

Kei Y tilted his head slightly, still stretching, then glanced back at the Queen. “You said something?”

Queen Thalia’s jaw clenched. “Kid, don’t think your King can protect you. Heal my participant—then kneel and apologize. Do so, and I may let you live.”

Beneath Kei Y’s foot, the previously unconscious participant stirred. Groggy and dazed, he blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the muffled voices. Then he recognized his Queen’s voice and, with it, a flicker of hope returned.

Until—

CRACK.

An audible shatter rang through the plaza like a hammer on stone. The participant’s eyes went wide—just before rolling back—his body twitching once, then going limp again. Blood seeped onto the stone beneath him.

Everyone watching tensed.

Some gasped.

“BOY!!!!” Queen Thalia’s shriek echoed across the sky, shaking the air as a pulse of fury surged from her body.

But Kei Y didn’t flinch. Still yawning, he lazily glanced toward her.

“Lady, you’re like… a hundred years old, right? Careful not to cause any more wrinkles on that crusty face of yours. The flubber on your grotesque body’s already bad enough.”

An entire section of the Greek delegation gasped.

One specialist muttered under their breath, “He… he just insulted the Queen’s figure…”

“She’s not even fat,” another whispered. “She’s gorgeous. Is that kid blind or just suicidal?”

The atmosphere shifted instantly—tense enough to snap steel. Queen Thalia raised her hand slowly, her expression murderous. Golden force shimmered in her palm, thick enough to blur the air.

Kei Y was mid-yawn when it hit.

An invisible weight pressed down on him like a falling mountain. His limbs locked up. Breathing became harder. His foot remained on the soldier’s head, but he could no longer move.

A flash.

A palm—Queen Thalia’s—descended toward his skull, carrying every intention to kill.

CLANG.

The sharp sound of force meeting force rang out like a thunderclap.

Emory stood between them, one hand raised casually, blocking the Queen’s strike with two fingers. His expression hadn’t changed, his smile still polite.

“Queen Thalia,” he said gently, “please be mindful of your actions.”

There was no anger in his tone.

Only warning.

“I would hate to find myself on the wrong side of your kingdom. But don’t test my patience, even if your cultivation’s higher than mine. I might be old… but these bones can still stretch.”

Silence.

The air around them crackled with suppressed tension.

Kei Y blinked. “Wow. You really don’t want this guy to live, huh? You’re kind of mean, lady.”

He shifted slightly, his gaze flicking down toward the unconscious participant beneath his foot. His brow furrowed. “Huh. That pressure you flared just now—it hit him too.”

Kei Y tilted his head, feigning disappointment. “Honestly, I at least thought you’d be skillful enough to avoid harming your own cohort, but it looks like you just did more damage than I did.”

He crouched slightly, one hand glowing faintly with Healing Force, and added with mock sincerity, “I mean, I can heal him… but how do you plan to pay me?”

His voice was calm. Too calm. As if he was genuinely more concerned about payment than the broken body underfoot.

The tension in the air didn’t break.

It curdled.

The Queen’s body trembled with rage. “Emory… step aside. This is a matter of discipline. One, I doubt even you wish to bear the consequences of interfering with.”

Emory smiled wider.

“Try me.”

The tension didn’t break.

It sharpened.

All eyes are now locked on the Queen and Emory—two veterans with terrifying weight behind their names.

The King of Amunar, watching from a distance, let out a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“This is going to be a long tournament,” the King muttered, rubbing his temples.

He glanced to the side—toward the edge of the arena grounds—where two figures could be seen standing behind makeshift stalls selling food and drinks to spectators. The Vendor and Auserre, back in the old disguise the Vendor had crafted for her using Creation Force.

Both of them sensed the King’s gaze.

Both of them deliberately ignored it.

Their silence alone seemed to say: You wanted them, they're your headache now. If the King wanted her to step in, he’d have to pay for it. And he knew all too well… that would be far too expensive.

So he said nothing.

He simply turned his attention back to Emory—who still stood calmly between Kei Y and Queen Thalia.

“Queen Thalia,” Emory began, still smiling, though the edge in his voice was now unmistakable, “you’d be best to remember—it was your cohort who came over here and antagonized Amunar’s participants of their own free will.”

He nodded slightly at the still-unconscious soldier under Kei Y’s foot.

“And this boy brought about his own fate the moment he tried to assassinate one of my recruits.”

Emory’s smile remained—pleasant, unwavering—but the weight behind it turned sharp, dangerous.

“So if it is his fate to die by the hands—or foot, in this case—of the one he tried to kill… then that’s his fate to bear.”

He took a single step forward, and the pressure that rolled off him silenced the surrounding area.

“Step aside.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice dipped.

“I won’t tell you again.”

A mysterious force suddenly pulled the unconscious boy out from under Kei Y’s foot. He drifted through the air and landed gently in Queen Thalia’s hand.

“Emory,” she said coldly, her eyes locked on the man still smiling calmly, “I’m neither afraid of you nor the King you serve. Just know—this isn’t over.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished healing him,” Kei Y protested, pouting. “And when do I get paid?”

Queen Thalia looked back at him, venom dripping from her gaze. “You… heh. I can’t wait to see how long you last in this tournament. Try not to die too soon, boy.”

“You’re not going anywhere, you cheap bitch—pay me my—!”

Before he could finish, Emory calmly reached over and covered Kei Y’s mouth, dragging him away with one arm like a parent dealing with a stubborn child. Silvie, Mia, Kei M, and Inpu trailed behind, looking entirely unfazed.

Just seconds after they left, a bolt of lightning cracked down from above, striking the exact spot where Emory had stood moments earlier. The Crown Prince of Amunar materialized from the bolt, looking ragged, scuffed, and thoroughly winded.

“I really need to calm down around that guy,” he muttered, brushing off his robes, eyes twitching slightly. “Even Father doesn’t protect me from that demon…”

He shivered at the memory, only to pause.

“...Wait. Where’d he go?”

He spun around in confusion, realizing Emory was nowhere to be seen.

And so, the ceremony began.

Participants from each kingdom took the stage before a roaring crowd, representing the younger generation of their respective powers—Amunar (Egypt), Greece, Japan, China, Jerusalem, and India. From Recruit Class to Specialist Class, the arena was filled with powerful and promising figures, each exuding presence and potential.

As the introductions carried on, Kei Y leaned toward Silvie, voice low beneath his mask.

“So, what did you find out?”

Silvie’s whisper barely carried over the ceremony drums. “It really does seem to be the case. All of them are real—and standing right in front of us.”

Her voice grew more tense.

“This is going to be a problem. Especially the ones from Jerusalem and India. If they’re even half as strong as the way people worship them back on Earth…” she trailed off.

Kei Y didn’t respond immediately.

While he was antagonizing Queen Thalia earlier, Silvie had used the parasitic nature of her Spark to temporarily control others around the tournament grounds, siphoning information, listening to private conversations, and cross-referencing what she heard with Earth's ancient texts. What she gathered only confirmed their worst suspicions.

They didn't just resemble those mythical figures.

These were those mythical figures—appearing in their youth, before the legends were written, before the gods were worshipped. Back when they were just powerful cultivators.

And now they were back.

Alive.

Competing.

Silvie exhaled slowly. “The odds of us winning this tournament… have practically dropped to zero.”

Kei Y smiled meekly under his mask. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He then turned his gaze toward the Chinese delegation, eyes narrowing. “If anything, the one from China might end up being the biggest headache.”

The young man he referred to must’ve felt the attention—because he looked straight at them. Though masked, the gaze from Kei Y and Silvie was unmistakably focused, direct.

The Chinese figure blinked once.

“…Hmm?” he muttered softly, confused as to why those two unknowns were staring at him so intently.

Silvie gave a small laugh. “It’d be kind of cool to see him fight the Indian guy. A round two, in a way.”

While Kei Y and Silvie tried to piece together how to win the tournament, complete their quest, and clear the temporal dungeon, the official rules of the tournament were finally being presented—alongside an overview of the upcoming challenges.

Most participants, along with the onlookers, were paying close attention to the speaker explaining the format and stages. Everyone except, of course, two very specific individuals.

Silvie and Kei Y.

Actually… make that three.

“Anubis, huh?” Inpu muttered to himself beneath his Jackal mask, clearly still thinking about Silvie’s earlier outburst. “I like that name. It’s really cool. What do you think, Mia?”

Mia, whose mask had swirling koi fish swimming gently across its surface, tilted her head in thought. “I really like that name too, Inpu. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he replied with a shrug, the faintest grin on his face. “Just thought it was a cool name, that’s all.”

Before she could reply, a familiar shift occurred beneath their feet—space warping, aether pulsing.

Without warning, the platform vanished.

And just like that, Inpu found himself airborne—falling from the sky as the first challenge began.

Elsewhere on the Expanse, Seth sat down, taking a short break as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He exhaled, arms resting on his knees—until a sudden stirring from within made him pause.

“Huh?” he muttered, sitting up straighter.

As if compelled, his body instinctively activated his force. Healing aether surged gently through his limbs—and his eyes widened, glowing faintly with awe.

The sensation was unmistakable.

His Healing Force had… changed.

It was more refined—more potent. The quality had jumped in a way he couldn’t explain. Injuries that once required delicate concentration now felt easy to mend, and the aether cost was noticeably lower. Each pulse of healing felt cleaner, smoother, more effective.

“Did I… level up?” Seth whispered, though no system message had appeared.

Even so, he couldn’t help but smile, confusion swept aside by the excitement blazing in his chest. His fingertips hummed with new potential, his pulse alive with possibility.

He wouldn't have guessed, the person who once tortured him, who used him as nothing more than a research subject, had just played a quiet part in helping him grow.

And Seth, blissfully unaware of it all, simply closed his eyes… and kept smiling.