Aiko woke up screaming someone else's name. The problem was, she'd never heard the name "Yuki" before in her life.
Her own voice, raw and hoarse, echoed in the cavern. She sat bolt upright on the cot, heart hammering against her ribs. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead.
The cavern was dark. Silent. Only the faint, bioluminescent moss on the walls offered a dim, eerie glow.
Kael's cot, a few feet away, was empty.
Aiko gasped, clutching her chest. The dream. It had been so vivid. Too vivid.
She had been running. Through a field of snow. The wind biting her face. Her lungs burning.
And then, a voice. A woman's voice. Calling out. Kael!
And a name. Yuki.
Aiko shivered. It wasn't her dream. It was his. The binding. The "unexpected side effect" of their "unique compatibility."
She swung her legs off the cot. Her muscles ached. Her head throbbed. The residual fear from the dream clung to her.
"Kael?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
No answer. He was gone.
Aiko scrambled to her feet. Where had he gone? Had he left her? Abandoned her in this creepy underground bunker?
A surge of anger mixed with her fear. That arrogant Reaper. Leaving her alone after that... that emotional assault of a binding ritual.
She stumbled towards the entrance of the cavern, where the tunnel led back to the surface. She needed out. Needed air. Needed to know he hadn't just vanished.
As she reached the tunnel entrance, a faint light flickered from deeper within the cavern. Kael.
He was standing by the ancient altar. His back to her. His form shimmered faintly in the dim light. He was meditating. Or something equally celestial and annoying.
"Kael!" Aiko snapped, her voice sharper than intended.
He didn't flinch. Didn't move. Just stood there. Still. Like a statue.
Aiko marched towards him. Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor. "Did you hear me? I said, Kael!"
He finally stirred. Slowly. He turned. His eyes were no longer black. They were back to their usual winter storm blue. But they were clouded. Distant. Haunted.
"You are awake," he stated, his voice flat. No surprise. No concern.
"Yeah, because I just woke up screaming your dead girlfriend's name!" Aiko retorted, her voice rising. "What the hell was that, Kael?"
Kael's face went utterly blank. His eyes, though no longer black, hardened. A wall of ice.
"The binding," he said, his voice clipped. "A residual effect. It will dissipate."
"Dissipate?" Aiko scoffed. "I just ran through a snowfield in my sleep, heard a woman call your name, and then woke up with a panic attack! That's not 'residual effect,' that's a full-blown invasion!"
"It was a memory," Kael replied, his gaze unwavering. "Not yours. Mine. The binding allowed you to... perceive it."
"Perceive it?" Aiko cried. "I lived it! I felt the cold! I felt the fear! I felt... your grief!"
Kael was silent. His jaw tightened. A muscle in his cheek twitched. A tiny, almost imperceptible sign of distress.
"Yuki," Aiko whispered, her voice softer now. "That was her, wasn't it? The woman from your past."
He didn't answer. Just stared at her. His eyes were unreadable. But Aiko could feel it. Through the binding. A deep, aching sorrow. A profound sense of loss.
"You're feeling it too, aren't you?" Aiko pressed. "My fear. My anger. My confusion. All of it."
Kael finally nodded. A slow, reluctant movement. "The emotional transparency. It is... more pervasive than anticipated. Especially during periods of unconsciousness."
"So, we're basically sharing a brain now?" Aiko scoffed. "Great. Just what I needed. More baggage."
"It is a consequence of our unique compatibility," Kael stated. "And your... volatile emotional state. It amplifies the connection."
"My volatile emotional state?" Aiko bristled. "I'm sorry, is it 'unproductive' to have feelings when your life is a cosmic dumpster fire and you're sharing dreams with an ancient, brooding Reaper?"
Kael sighed. A long, exasperated sound. "Your sarcasm is still unproductive."
"And your emotional repression is infuriating!" Aiko shot back. "Look, we need to talk about this. About the dreams. About Yuki. About whatever ancient, depressing memories you're carrying around that are now invading my sleep!"
Kael turned away from her. Walked back to his cot. Sat down. His back to her.
"There is nothing to discuss," he stated, his voice flat. "The dreams will dissipate as our essences stabilize. Focus on your training."
"No!" Aiko snapped. She walked to his cot. Stood over him. "I'm not going to just 'focus on my training' while my subconscious is being hijacked by your tragic backstory! We are linked, Kael! That means we deal with this together!"
He was silent. Still. Like a statue.
Aiko felt a surge of frustration. And a faint, almost imperceptible hum from the binding. Her anger. Amplified. Reflected back at her.
"Fine," Aiko said, her voice tight. "You want to be a silent, brooding statue? Be a silent, brooding statue. But don't expect me to just ignore this."
She walked back to her own cot. Sat down. Pulled her knees to her chest. Stared at the opposite wall.
The cavern was silent again. But the silence felt heavy. Strained. Filled with unspoken words. And shared, unwanted emotions.
Hours passed. Aiko couldn't sleep. Her mind raced. The dream. Yuki. The snowfield. The fear.
She could still feel Kael's presence. A cold, distant hum. But beneath it, a faint tremor. A disturbance.
He was struggling too. With the shared emotions. With the memory.
Aiko sighed. This was going to be a long, awkward partnership.
Suddenly, Kael broke the silence. His voice was low. Almost a whisper. "The dreams are not random."
Aiko looked at him. He was still facing away from her.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"They are memories," Kael explained. "Fragments. From my human life. Before I became a Reaper."
Aiko frowned. "I got that part. But... why now? Why are they appearing in my dreams?"
"The binding," he replied. "It has created a conduit. A bridge between our minds. Our pasts."
"So, I'm basically watching your old home movies?" Aiko scoffed. "Great. Is there popcorn?"
Kael ignored her sarcasm. "These memories are... volatile. They are tied to my transformation. To my purpose."
"And to Yuki," Aiko added softly.
He was silent again. A long, heavy silence.
"Yes," he finally said. His voice was barely audible. "To Yuki."
Aiko felt a pang of sympathy. Despite his coldness, his arrogance, she could feel his profound grief. It was a raw, open wound.
"What happened to her?" Aiko asked, her voice gentle. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But... I felt it. Your pain. It's immense."
Kael was silent for a long moment. Aiko thought he wouldn't answer.
Then, he spoke. His voice was distant. Like he was speaking from another time. Another place.
"She died," he said. "Because of me."
Aiko gasped. "What? No, Kael, that's not... you were a Reaper. You save people."
"I was not a Reaper then," he interrupted, his voice flat. "I was human. And I made a choice. A terrible choice. To save her."
"What choice?" Aiko pressed.
Kael finally turned. Looked at her. His eyes were haunted. Filled with centuries of regret.
"I betrayed her," he whispered. "To become what I am now. A Reaper. I sacrificed her to save her soul."
Aiko stared at him, aghast. "You... you sacrificed her? What does that even mean?"
"It means I killed her," Kael stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "To prevent a fate far worse than death."
Aiko recoiled. Her breath hitched. He killed her? The woman he loved?
"No," Aiko whispered. "You can't have. Reapers don't... they don't kill humans. They guide souls."
"Some rules are meant to be broken," Kael said, his eyes fixed on hers. "When the alternative is unthinkable."
Aiko felt a cold dread spread through her. This was darker than she imagined. Far darker.
"What was the alternative?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What fate worse than death?"
Kael was silent for a moment. His gaze drifted to the bioluminescent moss on the walls. As if seeing something beyond them.
"The Nox," he finally said. "They were not always... corrupted spirits. They are a mutation. A perversion. Born from souls that linger too long. That are consumed by despair. Or by something else."
Aiko frowned. "Something else?"
"An ancient entity," Kael explained. "It feeds on despair. On chaos. On souls that are lost. It corrupts them. Turns them into its instruments."
"The entity that created the Nox Mayor?" Aiko asked, remembering the blueprint.
Kael nodded. "Indeed. It was... targeting Yuki. She possessed a unique spiritual affinity. A latent power. Like yours."
Aiko gasped. "She was a medium too?"
"A nascent one," Kael confirmed. "She was unaware of her abilities. But the entity sensed her. It sought to consume her. To transform her into something... monstrous."
"So you killed her to save her from becoming a Nox?" Aiko whispered, trying to wrap her mind around it.
"To save her soul from eternal corruption," Kael corrected. "And to prevent her from becoming a weapon in the entity's hands. A weapon that would have brought untold suffering to the mortal realm."
Aiko stared at him. The cold, logical Reaper. He had made an impossible choice. A brutal sacrifice.
"And in return," Aiko said, "you became a Reaper. Bound to Heaven. To maintain the balance."
Kael nodded. "It was the bargain I made. My soul for hers. My eternity for her peace."
Aiko felt a pang of profound sadness. For him. For Yuki. For the impossible choice he had to make.
"That's... that's horrible, Kael," Aiko murmured. "I'm so sorry."
He was silent. His eyes were distant. Lost in centuries of regret.
"It was my duty," he finally said. "My penance."
"Penance?" Aiko frowned. "For saving someone? For making an impossible choice?"
"For taking a life," Kael replied. "Even to save a thousand. The rules are absolute."
"But sometimes," Aiko countered, "rules need to be broken. For humanity. For love."
Kael looked at her. His eyes held a flicker of something she hadn't seen before. Curiosity. Or perhaps, a faint spark of hope.
"You believe that?" he asked, his voice low.
"I have to," Aiko said. "Otherwise, what's the point? If we just follow rules blindly, what makes us different from... from those Collectors? Or from the Nox?"
Kael was silent for a long moment. He seemed to be processing her words. Analyzing them.
"Your perspective is... unique," he finally said.
"Yeah, well, I'm a unique kind of mess," Aiko retorted, a faint smile touching her lips. "So, what now? Are we going to have more shared dreams about your tragic past?"
Kael sighed. "It is possible. The binding has opened a pathway. And my memories are... fragmented. Unstable."
"Great," Aiko muttered. "So I get to be your cosmic therapist."
"Your assistance would be... appreciated," Kael said, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips.
Aiko chuckled. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for a lost cause. And a brooding Reaper with a tragic backstory."
She felt a shift in the atmosphere. The tension between them had lessened. Replaced by a fragile, tentative understanding.
"So, about this training," Aiko said. "Are we going to do it now? Or are we going to have a therapy session first?"
Kael stood up. His posture was still rigid. But there was a subtle difference. A faint easing of his shoulders.
"Training," he stated. "The Collectors will return. We must be prepared."
Aiko nodded. She stood up too. Her body still ached. But her mind felt clearer. More focused.
She had answers. Not all of them. But enough to understand. Enough to fight.
"Alright, Sensei," Aiko said. "Show me how to kill what's already dead. Without, you know, killing myself in the process."
Kael looked at her. His eyes, though still cold, held a flicker of something new. A hint of respect. Or perhaps, a shared burden.
"Come," he said. "We begin with the basics. Control. Precision. And understanding the flow of spiritual energy."
He walked to a clear area of the cavern. Aiko followed.
He began to explain the intricacies of Soul Resonance. How it connected to the veil. How it could be used to unravel. Or to amplify.
"Your previous attempts were... forceful," Kael explained. "Like a sledgehammer. You must learn to use a scalpel."
Aiko listened intently. She focused on his words. On the energy in the cavern.
She tried to feel it. Not just see it. But truly feel it. The subtle currents. The hidden pathways.
Hours passed. Kael was a relentless teacher. Patient, in his own way. But utterly demanding.
He made her practice. Again and again. Focusing her energy. Directing it. Not blasting. But weaving. Unraveling.
Aiko felt the drain. The familiar ache. But this time, it was different. Less like a tear. More like a controlled burn.
She was learning. Slowly. Painfully. But she was learning.
"Better," Kael stated, after one of her successful attempts to unravel a small, lingering spiritual anomaly in the cavern. "More control. Less collateral damage."
"Thanks," Aiko panted. "My lungs are full of spiritual dust, but at least I didn't accidentally vaporize the altar."
Kael's lips twitched. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk.
"You are a quick study," he conceded. "For a human."
"Compliment accepted, Reaper," Aiko retorted. "Now, what's next? Are we going to fight imaginary Nox?"
"Imagination is a luxury we cannot afford," Kael replied. "We will practice with controlled simulations. Replicas of spiritual entities. Created from my own essence."
Aiko raised an eyebrow. "You can do that?"
"A basic Reaper ability," he stated. "Now. Focus. This will be more challenging."
He extended his hand. A shimmering, shadowy form began to coalesce in the air before them. Smaller than a Nox Mayor. But still menacing.
"This is a Nox Minor simulation," Kael explained. "Your goal is to unravel it. Efficiently. Without excessive energy expenditure."
Aiko took a deep breath. She focused. Imagined the threads. The essence.
She extended her hand. Golden light flowed. Not a blast. A precise, controlled stream. It wrapped around the Nox simulation.
The simulation shrieked. It struggled. But Aiko held it. Twisted it. Unraveled it.
It dissolved. Vanished. Cleanly. Efficiently.
Aiko gasped. She felt the drain. But it was minimal. Controlled.
"I did it!" she exclaimed.
"Indeed," Kael said. "Again."
They practiced for hours. Aiko fought simulation after simulation. Learning to control her power. To use it like a scalpel. Not a sledgehammer.
She felt herself growing stronger. More confident. The hum of her power felt less chaotic. More harmonious.
She also felt the constant, subtle presence of Kael. Through the binding. His cold logic. His unwavering focus. It was a strange kind of support. A silent anchor.
As the hours wore on, Aiko felt a profound exhaustion. But also, a strange sense of accomplishment.
"That is enough for tonight," Kael finally stated. "Your spiritual reserves require replenishment."
Aiko collapsed onto her cot. "Thank god. I think my brain is going to melt."
Kael walked to his own cot. Sat down. His form still shimmered faintly. The erosion was still there. But it was stable. Contained.
"You performed adequately," he conceded.
"Adequately?" Aiko scoffed. "I was amazing! I was a spiritual ninja!"
Kael's lips twitched. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "Your self-assessment is... optimistic."
Aiko chuckled. "Whatever. I'm just glad I didn't die. Or make you bleed out again."
She closed her eyes. The image of Kael, bleeding light, flashed in her mind. The fear. The guilt.
"Kael?" she whispered.
"Yes, Aiko?" His voice was calm.
"Thank you," she said. "For teaching me. For... not letting me die."
He was silent for a moment. A long, comfortable silence.
"It is my duty," he finally said. But his voice was softer now. Less flat.
Aiko smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Duty. Whatever."
She drifted into a restless sleep. But this time, the dreams were different. Less chaotic. Less terrifying.
Flashes of snow. A woman's laughter. A man's voice. Strong. Protective.
And then, a new image. A young man. With dark hair. And eyes like winter storms. But they were filled with warmth. With love.
He was holding a woman's hand. Her face was blurry. But Aiko knew it was Yuki.
The dream wasn't just Kael's memory anymore. It was becoming something else. Something shared. Something... intimate.
Aiko woke with a start. Her heart pounded. The dream lingered. The warmth. The love.
She looked at Kael's cot. He was still there. Lying on his back. His eyes open. Staring at the cavern ceiling.
"Kael," Aiko whispered.
He turned his head. Looked at her. His eyes were wide. Haunted.
"The dreams," he rasped. "They are... changing."
Aiko nodded. "I know. I saw... I saw you. With her. You were... happy."
Kael's face was utterly blank. But Aiko could feel it. Through the binding. A torrent of raw, unfiltered emotion. Grief. Longing. Regret.
"It is not... accurate," he stated, his voice strained. "Those memories are... idealized."
"They felt real," Aiko countered. "I felt your love. For her."
He was silent. His gaze distant. Lost in the depths of his past.
"We need to talk about this," Aiko said, pushing herself up from the cot. "About your past. About Yuki. About why these dreams are suddenly becoming... more."
Kael finally looked at her. His eyes, though still haunted, held a flicker of something new. Something she hadn't seen before. Vulnerability.
"They are becoming... clearer," he whispered. "More complete. The binding is... accelerating the process."
"What process?" Aiko asked.
"My human memories," Kael explained. "They are... resurfacing. The binding is breaking down the barriers I erected to contain them."
Aiko stared at him. "So, you're remembering everything? Your human life?"
He nodded slowly. "And the circumstances of my transformation. My choice."
Aiko felt a chill. The "terrible choice" he had made. The "betrayal."
"We need to talk about the dreams," Kael said again, his voice sounding different. Older. More human. Filled with a raw, agonizing pain.
Aiko nodded. "I know. We will. But first..."
She looked at him. At the raw vulnerability in his eyes. At the faint shimmer of light around him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.
Kael was silent for a moment. Then, to Aiko's surprise, he reached out. His hand, still cold, touched her cheek.
"No," he whispered. "I am not. But I will be. With you."
Aiko felt a warmth spread through her. A strange, unexpected comfort.
This was more than a binding. More than a partnership.
It was a connection. A shared journey. Into the depths of his past. And the unknown future.
And Aiko had a feeling, a cold, creeping certainty, that unraveling Kael's past might be even more dangerous than fighting Nox. But she was bound to him now. For better or worse. And she was never one to back down from a mystery. Especially when it was tied to her own survival.