[Aetherion Evolution Attempt - Fusion Cosmic Gamble]
[Location: Azure Hollow High-Tower Hotel Room.
Time: 8:17 AM | Weather: Light Rain | Phase: Dreambound flux.]
Ashborn stood by the foot of the bed, towel around his waist, hair still damp from the shower. The mist of condensation curled lazily through the room, and Lunavelle now lay curled against a pillow, still fast asleep, her presence pulsing gently like a resting starseed.
He stared at the system HUD floating in front of him, three options, three destinies bound into relic evolution threads:
• Worldsplit Javelin.
• Blade of Narrative Rift.
• Petal of Unfinished Poem.
His Star-shaped lavender eyes glowed faintly.
"Can't pick just one... screw that."
He exhaled, then grinned savagely.
[Override Attempt: Initiating Dream-Themed Fusion]
[WARNING]: Attempting to breach Legendary Relic Evolution protocols.
[Result]: Unstable Narrative Conflict Detected.
Ashborn slammed his hand forward-
[CROWN OF INFINITE IFS - ACTIVATED]
"What if: Both relic paths were granted at once?"
Aetherion's mythic algorithm surged, trying to collapse infinite branching paths into one outcome.
Ashborn's Core shuddered violently.
"Lock it in. NOW!"
He snarled, voice cracking the veil between logic and dream.
[CHRONO-WARD SEED - Planted]
"If reality fails to accept dual form, rewind 4 seconds prior."
A ripple spread across the air.
Time itself bucked slightly, curling around the edge of the moment like pages of a burning book.
[GENESIS THREAD - ECHO-LOOM SPIRAL: Narrative Drift Trigger]
"Defiance. Greed. Curiosity. Destiny Disruption."
Six threads unraveled from Ashborn's back, weaving mid-air like celestial ink. One of them flared purple. Another glowed like torn manuscript parchment.
[Attempting Relic Fusion...]
[Mythos Claymore] × [Inkveil Scythe] > [REJECTION]
-
The room exploded.
NOISE hit like a planet breaking in half.
Ashborn's body was flung backward violently, his back smashing through the arcanoglass window as a thousand dream-laced static glyphs ripped across his torso like whips made of prophecy.
He hit the floor, bones cracking, stardust blood erupting from his mouth as the fusion attempt backfired. His Genesis Thread screamed, some filaments snapping into black flame, others writhing against him like betrayed nerves.
[SYSTEM REJECTED: DUAL PATH CONFLICT ERROR]
[DREAM CORE CONCUSSION: STABILITY - 34%]
[WARNING: ARTIFACT COLLAPSE IMMINENT]
[FAILURE DETECTED]
Activating [Chrono-Ward Seed]...
[TIME REWIND: 4 SECONDS PRIOR...]
Ashborn staggered back into place standing again beside the bed, heart pounding, chest rising and falling as the echo of failed reality burned behind his eyes.
His entire body was steaming, skin coated in layer-thin trauma.
"...Damn that hurt."
Blood dripped from his nostrils. He felt the memory of the impact still in his spine.
His left hand trembled.
But his grin returned.
"Okay... one more time."
This time, he stepped forward calmly. His voice was low. Focused.
"Crown... do it again."
But this time, he didn't just force it. He understood it.
The scythe was elegance, entropy, sorrow, and unfinished fate.
The Claymore was weight, legacy, and unbreakable truth.
He didn't want both.
He wanted a paradox.
A weapon of contradiction. A blade that could bleed endings and crush beginnings at the same time.
He raised both hands, slowly. Threads emerged. All focused.
Then a sevent, unseen, flickering into existence.
It wasn't logical.
It was a Narrative belief.
"What if... the story of the blade is unfinished?"
"Because it carries the weight of stories that haven't been written yet?"
"Let's call it..."
"Aetherion - Riftpetal Exe."
[System Accepting: Name Anchor Registered]
Fusion Variant Detected: "Riftpetal EXE - Blade of Causality's End & Dream's Bloom"
Form: Mutable. Shifts between Claymore / Scythe depending on emotional state.
Origin Mode: Narrative Rift + Unfinished Fate.
Reality Stability: 72%
Side effects: High-level sanity tremors during extended use.
---
The room dimmed.
Aetherion shattered.
Then reformed, glowing silver ink and violet steel.
Its handle was wrapped in ancient black cloth, its blade flickered between jagged edges and petal curves, never quite settling. It was hilt-bore shifting script, one moment a war hymn, the next a forgotten haiku.
Ashborn held it in one hand
"...Yeah. That's the one."
Lunavelle stirred faintly, still half-asleep.
"Ash...? Why's the room spinning...?"
He looked down at her, chuckling as the swirling blade hovered beside him.
"Just finished rewriting the rules."
[Relic Status Updated - Aetherion: Riftpetal EXE]
Rank: ★★★★★★ (Mythic Legendary Hybrid]
Class: Proto-Conceptual Paradox Blade. (Claymore <> Scythe Form)
Appearance & Form:
Aetherion: Riftpetal EXE is a mutable, dual-state weapon constantly shifting between two mythic forms based on Ashborn's emotional intent and narrative focus.
• Mythos Claymore Form:
° Length: 6'4"
° Blade: Wide, jagged crystalline structure. Shifting script depicting legends and epics runs along the edge, heavy and resolute.
° Weight: Emotion-driven (heavy, increasing with user conviction).
• Inkveil Scythe Form:
° Length: 7'2"
° Blade: Elegantly curved, ethereal, and ink-black blade formed from flowing, tangible poetic stanzas. Petal-shaped runes swirl silently across its surface.
° Weight: Featherlight, wielded effortlessly, yet lethally sharp.
Hybrid Core Attributes:
• Material Composition:
° Reality-Fused Genesis Crystal Alloy.
° Celestial Ink-Thread of Unfinished Poetry.
° Singularity-Infused Narrative Rift Core.
° Dream Logic Filament Inlays (adaptive resonance)
• Mythic Stability: 72% (Stable with minor Dream-Logic turbulence)
• Side Effects: Occasional high sanity tremors during extended combat use (manageable via Dream Core)
• [Passive Unique Traits]:
[Narrative Weight Shift] - The weapon adapts its weight and speed to Ashborn's emotional and narrative state, allowing seamless transitions between crushing blows (Claymore) and fluid sweeps (Scythe)
[Fate Bleed Edge] - (Scythe Mode Only): Each slash causes opponents to lose certainty in their predetermined outcomes. Attacks causes confusion. disrupting prophecy, fate-bound abilities, and future sight.
[Causality Breaker] - (Claymore Mode Only):
Heavy strikes shatter localized cause-and-effect chains on impact, temporarily disabling enemy reactions or automatic defenses.
[Paradox Resonance] - Weapon accumulates paradoxical energy during combat, granting stacking bonus damage based on narrative contradictions inflicted upon enemies.
• [Active Abilities]
[Rift Collapse] - Overhead strike creates a momentary rift in causality. Affected enemies lose control of the next 2 seconds of their actions, causing unexpected outcomes.
(Cooldown: 60s)
[Narrative Heaviness] (Passive/Toggle) - Each successful hit increases the Claymore's damage output by +3% per swing, stacking up to 30% extra damage. Resets if no damage is dealt within seconds.
[Legend's End] (Ultimate - Cooldown: 180s) - a devastating strike capable of instantly nullifying active legendary-tier enemy buffs or abilities by literally breaking their narrative hold.
• [Scythe Mode Techniques]
[Inkveil Dance] - Rapid spinning attack surrounds Ashborn in shifting poetic verses, rendering him intangible to physical damage for 3 seconds while counter-slashing nearby foes.
[Petal Cut - Unwritten Fate] (Passive/Trigger):
Strikes randomly erase or weaken enemy attacks yet to be fully executed, particularly powerful against foes heavily reliant on prediction and probability manipulation.
[Peom of Severed Destiny] (Ultimate - Cooldown: 180s)
Delivers a sweeping, unavoidable slash marking enemies hit with lingering poetic wounds, draining their narrative certainty and rapidly weakening their resolve over time.
• [Hybrid Fusion Techniques - Claymore & Scythe Simultaneous] (Requires Narrative Drift Trigger to Activate Both Forms Temporarily)
[Paradox Blooming] (Limited - Cooldown: 300s)
Weapon briefly merges both forms into a paradox state for a single devastating hybrid attack:
° strikes simultaneously break causality and unravel future outcomes, creating widespread chaos in enemy formations.
[Echo-Loom Barrage] (Genesis Thread Enhanced):
Channels Genesis Thread Phase IV into the weapon, creating a barrage of narrative-heavy slashes and poetic scythe cuts, overwhelming enemy defenses through story-based erosion.
• [Special Synergy Effects]
[Arc Sanctum Resonance - Inkveil Trait] (Passive Hidden Effect):
Weapon instinctively harmonizes with Arc Sanctum's Poetic Law Inscription techniques, granting Ashborn deeper intuitive control over narrative combat when near Arc Sanctum envoys.
[Genesis Thread Narrative Resonance - Mythos Trait] (Passive Hidden Effect):
Intensifies the power and reaction speed of Genesis Thread's narrative manipulation, particularly when Ashborn's emotions match his current battle narrative.
[Usage Advisory]
[Sanity Strain Warning] - Extended fusion form use may cause insane fatigue, real hallucinations, or high-level reality perception disturbances. Usage of Dream Core is periodically advised to maintain stability.
Ashborn gently ran his fingers through Lunavelle's hair as she purred softly in his lap, curled up in peaceful slumber. The HUD slowly faded, leaving behind only the quiet hum of Aetherion's new hybrid form suspended beside him.
"A paradox weapon that breaks destiny and shatters causality. Exactly my style."
He smiled faintly, ready to embrace the challenges it would bring.
Ashborn's hand gently stroked Lunavelle's silvery-violet hair as she curled tighter against his chest, purring softly in the warmth of his presence. With his other hand, he raised Aetherion, now humming with shifting pulses of narrative logic and cosmic contradiction. His star-shaped lavender eyes studied the weapon carefully as it flowed through each of its six perfected forms, seamlessly transitioning with a flick of thought or instinct.
• [Aetherion Form Rotation Visual]
[Bow Mode - "Astral Piercer"]
The weapon snapped into a shimmering cosmic bow, string woven from refracted Genesis Thread, pulling from a quiver that didn't exist until it needed to. He fired an arrow into the wall, and it struck, split, and echoed back into two ghostly bolts that vibrated through time. The wall shimmered for a moment with lagged perception before stabilizing.
"Still perfect for air-based assassins or mana-phased reavers..." Ashborn murmured.
[Spear Mode - "Lance of Collapse"
A spin and flick, Aetherion stretched into a deadly spear of condensed gravity. Ashborn performed a short lunge across the room, its tip struck air, but the spatial distortion cracked the wooden frame of the bed, forcing Ashborn to adjust the angle of inertia in real-time.
"Too much force. Need to bind it with an Echo Thread next time..." he whispered, satisfied.
[Staff Mode - "Codex Scepter"]
Aetherion's form twisted into a radiant, rune-covered scepter. Ashborn raised it, and twin orbs of light and entropy danced in his hands. With a dual-channel pulse, he fired both spells into the ceiling, causing a harmless shiver in reality as local mana buckled momentarily.
"Perfect Convergence. Can't wait to combine this with a full-scale battlefield theorem."
[Blade Mode - "Core Resonator"]
Returning to the default melee form, Ashborn slashed once toward the reinforced pillar. Five strikes in rapid succession and a blast of true damage burst out like an echo of rage, ripping into the material with no delay. Dust fell like ash.
"Still brutal. Simple. Reliable. But..."
[Whipblade Mode - "Sovereign Lash"]
With a swirl, the blade loosened into a flowing edge of semi-sentient metal and radiant thread. Ashborn performed a rapid wide slash, then twisted it into a narrow thrust. The weapon adapted immediately, fluid and monstrous. As he kept it in motion, the feedback started intensifying, small sparks of space-anchoring gravity flaring along the whip's coils.
"The longer it moves, the deadlier it gets. I'll need control or this will level half a sector."
Then it came, the true test.
[Riftpetal EXE: Hybrid Form]
The room grew colder as Aetherion's sixth form emerged.
Aetherion bloomed. One side grew into a jagged mythic blade. The Claymore of Narrative Rift. The other, a sweeping Inkveil Scythe, black as untold fates, yet threaded with shimmering Genesis Veins.
Ashborn took one stance, and the world twisted.
His vision fractured for a second. The reflection in the window didn't move as he did. A second heartbeat echoed in his ears. The room seemed to breathe with him.
"This... this isn't just a weapon it's an argument against the universe."
[Usage Advisory Activated]
Warning: High-level Sanity Pressure Exceeding Safe Limits.
Dream logic destabilization is imminent. Reality may lose coherence. Emotional anchors required.
Ashborn tried to swing.
And that was the mistake.
The very first clash of Riftpetal EXE in its hybrid mode against his training dummy sent a blast of paradoxical force. The strike didn't hit the dummy, it questioned its right to exist.
The result?
The weapon struck back.
[BACKLASH TRIGGERED]
The room fractured.
Ashborn was launched into the wall, then through it, phased briefly through three layers of matter, time reversing and folding for a split second. His ears rang with conflicting haikus. His mind spun between a past where he hadn't swung and a future where he had already died.
He landed on his knees, bleeding from his nose, his vision flickering with spirals of violet ink and silver flames.
Lunavelle stirred, groaning faintly at the feedback. Even her dream was cracked.
"System..." Ashborn hissed through clenched teeth. "Chrono-Ward Seed."
[Time Rewind Activated - 4 Seconds Prior]
Suddenly, reality snapped back. The fracture was undone. The room reset.
Ashborn, now standing, didn't move.
He breathed.
Slowly. Eyes closed.
"...That wasn't a swing," he murmured.
"That was a statement. I wasn't ready."
[Second Attempt - The Correct Way]
Ashborn stepped into a practiced stance,
grounding his feet and his mund. He activated:
[Narrative Drift Trigger] - six threads split out and bound the weapon to the present, to himself, to reason.
"Cut through fate... but don't get cut by it."
He guided the Claymore end slowly through the air, his emotions aligned: resolve, fear, memory. The threads pulsed. The weapon stabilized.
Then, with precise grace, he flipped the scythe half upward and sliced gently.
The room did not fracture.
It listened.
The cut landed. Reality whispered instead of screaming.
Ashborn exhaled, calm, sweat down his back, hands trembling but stable.
"Tame the paradox. Don't wield it... negotiate with it," he said softly to himself, wiping a bead of blood from his lips.
He looked down at Lunavelle still snoozing peacefully, blissfully unaware of the almost cataclysmic moment her guardian had just weathered.
Ashborn smiled, faintly.
"We're gonna need a bigger battlefield for this one."
----
----
----
[Location: Forbidden Surface - Cyber Ruins near Sector VI-B.
Area: Azure Hollow | High-Tower Hotel Complex > Outer Streets.
Time: 9:37 AM | Weather: Light Rain.]
---
Ashborn stepped into the gray light of morning, boots clinking softly against the synth-stone tiles of the high-rise hallway, slick with condensation. His star-shaped lavender eyes flicked across the hovering digital glyphs that trailed from his open System Thread, strands of luminous violet data weaving silently through the air like a sacred contract.
"Petal Accord - Arc Sanctum Treaty Thread Initialized"
Terms: Peaceful entry. Combat is prohibited within the chamber bounds.
Invitation attuned to: [Author Candidate Signature: Ashborn Lionheart]
The words shimmered for a moment before coiling gently around his right wrist, a symbol of covenant, not merely ink on a page, but a living contract that responded to soul-weight and intent.
Nestled atop his head, Lunavelle lay curled like a fluffy feline, small hands gripping a lock of his silky, black hair streaked with subtle curly purple ends. Her ears twitched at the light chill, but the soft purring never ceased.
Ashborn gently reached up and adjusted her position, ensuring her tiny form wouldn't slip as he made his way out of the high-tech hotel room, closing the reinforced door behind him with a quiet hiss.
The streets of Azure Hollow unfolded before him in full urban sprawl, rain lightly misting over neon-lit roadways and semi-collapsed cyber-cathedral ruins. Towering monoliths of glowing stone and shimmering digital panels loomed above, each embedded with ancestral codes, half-destroyed sigils, and rusted circuitry from the Forbidden Surface's unknown past.
Ashborn paused on a sky-bridge extending out from the 38th floor of the hotel, overlooking the vast sprawl of Sector VI-B's techno ruins. Drones buzzed lazily in the mist, carrying small crates or relaying projected advertisements to travelers below.
"It's beautiful, in a broken way..." he murmured.
His hair clung slightly to his neck, catching some of the rain. Lunavelle's purring deepened slightly as her small face snuggled deeper into his curls.
"Still got six days until Arc Sanctum... might as well explore and get some decent clothes."
Ashborn adjusted the weight of his Aetherion, now sealed into Riftpetal EXE form, coiled tightly across his back beneath a cloak woven from Genesis threads, faintly glowing under the dampness of light rain.
He descended from the sky-bridge ramp into the Central Exchange of Azure Hollow, passing between vendors shouting in machine dialect, mercenaries in half-shattered armor, and digital prophets chanting into black glass mirrors. All of them were too distracted by their miseries.
Ashborn stepped under the shelter of a half-lit storefront, watching an automated tailoring drone skim through neon wardrobe options.
"Welcome, traveler. Need a re-thread?" The drone buzzed.
He nodded once, gesturing toward his current Wraith-MK1 pants.
"Something for high-mobility, durable. Cloak optional. Make sure it fits around the myth-threaded weapon base."
"Acknowledged. Dream Core compatibility?"
"...Yea." Ashborn nodded "Add memory retention fibers too."
As the outfit was woven in real-time by semi-organic nanothreadings, Ashborn turned back toward the open street. The skyline above azure Hollow shimmered under the faint aurora of dreamlight, warping subtly near the edges where reality-tether fields fluctuated, a reminder that this was a place where memory, myth, and malfunction coexisted.
He pulled his hood gently over Lunavelle's resting form to shield her from the rain, whispering.
"You rest easy... We'll walk this world slowly. For once."
----
[Location: Azure Hollow - Dreamthread Boutique "SpectraSync Styles"
Time: 10:09 AM | Weather: Neon Rainfall - Light Drizzle, ambient Data-Fog Present]
----
The streets of Azure Hollow were a prismatic blur, alive with movement and digital haze. Pedestrian, some flesh, some wireframe moved along neon gutters and shimmer-paths etched into the curved walkway. Above, translucent banners danced in the simulated breeze: "Trust SpectraSync clothing aligned with Soul-weight!"
Ashborn stood still beneath a rusted canopy laced with dreamglass ivy. The slick platform hummed with ambient power as vendors shouted in fractured dialects, overhead drone ads glowing faintly: "Unstable dreams? Layer your aura!"
His lavender star-shaped eyes cut through the visual noise, landing on a storefront that wasn't loud but precise. Tucked between a half-ruined building and a floating drone alrar was a simple name etched in living light: [SpectraSync Styles | Soul-Attuned Weaving]
Ashborn stepped through the sliding pane, the door vanishing like mist behind him.
Rein clung to his shoulders, trailing down the black cords of his makeshift cloak. Lunavelle, still curled on his head like a smug cat, blinked her drowsy silver-blue eyes, her cracked halo spinning faintly. Radiant particles flared off her fur-lined wings with each tiny breath.
"Tides... at... morning," she murmured sleepily, wrapping herself tighter in his hair.
"You're awake, princess. Good timing,"
Ashborn smirked.
"We're getting you clothes to match."
----
Inside, glowing mannequins wore kinetic cloaks that shimmered with dream logic. One robe floated, each ripple casting memories from passing minds. A battle-damaged coat near the wall seemed to breathe in the air, twitching as if eager for combat.
But none of it called to him.
Until Ashborn's wyes locked on a section tucked deep in the back, where the light dimmed. There it hung: a suspended outfit forged not from matter alone, but narrative influence, starlight compression, and relic-tier design principles.
[AN: WTF?]
[Ashborn's New Outfit - "Ecliptical Phantom: Riftborne Variant"]
[Material: Crystallized Threadweave + Dream-Circuit Bloom.]
[Torso: Form-fitted jet-black tactical mesh with prismatic crystalline cross embedded across the chest. Fabric shimmers with dreamthread lines, animated by his spiritual pulse.]
[Arms: White and Violet wraps interlinked by suspender-chains, infused with kinetic-reflective padding and scripted thread memory nodes.]
[Pants: black plated pants with flex-stitched with entropy recoil wefts.]
[Gloves/Boots: Violet-lined Dreamweave gloves with fingertip sensors. Heavy combat boots woven from reinforced memory-steel leather, reactive against terrain and aerial combat.]
[Functional Add-ons: 6 tether slots aligned to his Genesis Thread, dream-field dampeners, reactive spine plate for dream overload scenarios.]
Ashborn's eyes gleamed.
"I don't have money..."
"...Whatever. I'll do what I did with Wraith-MK1."
With a flick of his wrist, the Genesis Thread responded like a loyal serpent.
White-violet light unraveled from his palm, forming glyphs of command and layering threads through the air, hooking into the dreamstore's anchor-point reality.
Particles surged, dream matter folding and reweaving. Heatless light shattered silently, forming lines of script in mid-air.
The outfit dissolved, then rebuilt itself around his body, as if it had always belonged to him.
Rain hissed off his new coat like mist off glass.
The system pinged.
[New Gear Equipped: "Ecliptical Phantom - Riftborne Variant"]
[Affinity: Cosmic Thread, Dreamweave, Myth-Reactive.]
Then, Ashborn looked up, his eyes softening.
"Not just me..." he whispered, extending a hand upward.
Lunavelle was still nestled on his head like royalty.
He summoned the Genesis Fragment with a thought and whispered:
"Bloom gently. Make it soft... make it hers."
The air pulsed.
The [Proto-Matter Bloom] surged like starlight drawn by lullabies. Gently, lovingly, it formed her outfit with careful threads of comfort, mobility, and dream-core alignment.
[Lunavelle's New Outfit - "Riftling Radiance: Bloomform Edition"]
[Design: A miniature violet dress coat, sleeved with semi-flowing dream lace.]
[Material: Memory Silk fused with Dreamwool lining.]
[Accents: Tiny constellations orbiting her hair clasps, her halo now reinforced with a silver brace.]
[Function: A built-in dream anchor module allows her to float more easily even in warped fields. Dream-thread gloves allow her to influence small constructs.]
[Boots: Soft-knee mini boots with no-slip enchantments.]
[Accessories: A floating micro-orb halo on her left side, drifting around her like a guardian orb. Her earrings are shaped like miniature silver crescent moons.]
---
Ashborn held her in his hands now, lifting her off his head with reverence.
"How do I look?" He asked, gently turning toward the nearest reflective dream mirror.
Lunavelle blinked, looking at his armored coat, the gleam of his chest emblem, the storm-black gloss of his plated pants.
Then she looked at herself, her lace-lined sleeves flowing with faint dream particles, her tiny hands covered in gloves that shimmered with star-matter.
She beamed.
"You look like a protector."
"...And I look like a princess!"
Ashborn smiled.
"That you do. Let's burn the world down. Dream by dream."
----
The automatic doors of Dreamthread Boutique: SpectraSync Styles slid closed behind them with a whisper of light and synthesized chimes, leaving behind the soft ambient hum of tailoring drones and scent-threaded fabrics.
Ashborn's boots met the glistening street with faint clicks, his reflection stretched beneath him on wet digital pavement. His new outfit pulsed faintly, the cross-emblem on his chest radiating between ultraviolet brilliance and a deep indigo glow, Dreamtide particles twirled around his form like curious spirits, briefly attracted by the resonance in his Genesis Thread before fading again into the morning shimmer.
Parched gently upon his shoulder, Lunavelle blinked slowly her starlit lashes catching droplets of rain as her halo flickered with sleepy rhythm. Her dream-thread dress rustled like a whisper in a cathedral. She nuzzled his cheek faintly, not yet fully awake but already sensing the shifting mood in Ashborn's energy.
"I've wondered if there's more spirits in the floating lake back in the Veiled Glade of Woven Echoes, my anchored domain."
His eyes glowed faintly from the mirror reflection moments earlier, now softened into contemplative light as he watched the sky panels flicker with simulated clouds. The gentle hum of levitation traffic buzzed above them, interspersed with song fragments from open arc-speakers streaming local myths in melodic data-verse.
Lunavelle stirred.
"Dunno..."
Her voice was gentle and fragile, her small hand clung to a lock of his curled hair.
"When I first opened my eyes there..." she said slowly, "I was alone. Not just lonely... Alone. Like, nothingness around me. I didn't even know what I was. Or what to call myself. Or what that lake was for. Pr why it keeps humming..."
She glanced up at Ashborn's jawline, her cheeks brushing against the faintly gleaming contour of his shoulder.
"Days passed. Or maybe weeks. Maybe longer. I followed echoes. I hid under memory-stalks. I chased fragments of color hoping they'd talk to me. I didn't even remember my name until you gave me one."
Ashborn said nothing at first.
Instead, he gently reached up and curled two fingers around her tiny body, firm enough to keep her secure, soft enough to be comforting. His fingers brushed the wing-shaped folds of her back and flicked the halo slightly to center it over her head again.
"Then maybe that lake's waiting for more spirits to wake up."
"And maybe they won't until I return. Or maybe they're watching us now through the dreamfield reflection..."
The rain intensified slightly, small rhythmic pulses tapping against translucent umbrella warda flickering across floating vendors' stalls. Signs twisted in soft holographic flourishes overhead. An advertisement for [Velvet Requiem: Arc-Sanctum Branded comfort wears] scrolled past in glittering dream-font.
Ashborn walked past it without a glance. His mind was elsewhere.
"I anchored that Glade because it felt like a place that needed a reason to be."
He paused, gazing upward. Neon starlight winked at him from above, projected through the upper-tier atmosphere ring.
"Maybe now that I've changed... It's changing too."
Lunavelle smiled softly and nestled into his neck, her small fingers tracing idle circles into the sleeve of his new coat.
"Even if it doesn't... we're not alone anymore. I have you now."
Ashborn smiled faintly.
"You always had me, Lunavelle."
---
---
---
To be continued...