[Opening Spread — Two Full Pages]
Black sky.
Clouds twisting unnaturally above the city skyline.
Rain falls—
But the rain does not fall straight.
It curves.
Like gravity is misaligned.
Below—
An overpass.
Police tape flutters violently in wind that shouldn't exist.
In the center of the scene—
A body.
Suspended three feet above asphalt.
Spine snapped backward.
Jaw dislocated.
Chest cavity torn open so clean it looks surgical.
But nothing is missing.
No feeding.
No bite marks.
Just—
Hollowed.
[Close-Up Panel]
The corpse's eyes are still open.
Pupils dilated.
Frozen in absolute terror.
Tiny razor-thin incisions cover the skin.
Hundreds of them.
Too clean to be claws.
Too precise to be blades.
[Narration Box]
Air is invisible.
Until it decides not to be.
The body suddenly rotates mid-air.
A violent spiral.
Then drops.
Wet crack against pavement.
Blood spreads.
But not naturally.
It flows sideways for half a second—
Then gravity reclaims it.
The observing Válkrith enforcers step back.
One whispers:
"…Atmospheric manipulation."
Cut.
[Street Level — Page 4]
Footsteps.
Calm.
Measured.
Ryuto walks through rain-soaked streets.
Long black hair brushing his shoulders.
Silver eyes dull — reflective, not glowing.
His coat moves subtly against the direction of the wind.
Like it doesn't agree with nature.
[Internal Thought]
The pressure is wrong tonight.
To him—
The world isn't empty space.
It's layered density.
Warm pockets.
Cold currents.
Compressed zones.
He doesn't see wind.
He feels weight.
Air has mass.
And tonight—
It's restless.
[Alleyway — Wide Panel]
A scream rips through the rain.
Then stops abruptly.
Ryuto turns.
The wind shifts around him.
He steps into a narrow alley.
Brick walls cracked.
Trash swirling unnaturally in slow circles.
A rogue Válkrith crouches over a human.
Its jaw extended grotesquely.
Fangs buried deep in the man's neck.
Essence vapor rises from the wound.
The man twitches weakly.
The rogue doesn't look back.
"…You're that unfinished one."
Ryuto says nothing.
[Fight Initiation — Page Turn Impact]
The rogue vanishes.
Reappears behind Ryuto.
Bone-shattering impact.
Ryuto is launched through brick.
Wall explodes inward.
Dust and stone erupt.
He crashes into pavement.
Ribs fracture.
Blood fills his mouth.
The rogue lands beside him.
Grabs his hair.
Slams his face into concrete.
The ground dents.
"You don't have a bloodline."
"You don't even smell alive."
It lifts him by the throat.
Fingers tightening.
Airway collapsing.
[Mechanic Activation — Detailed]
Ryuto's heart rate spikes violently.
Pain surges through fractured ribs.
His breathing destabilizes.
The sigil beneath his skin ignites faintly.
It activates under lethal stress.
The sigil is not decorative.
It regulates atmospheric compression within a defined radius.
His body begins drawing in surrounding pressure gradients.
Air is compressed inward.
Not wind.
Pressure.
Normal humans ignore 14.7 psi constantly crushing them.
Ryuto does not.
He can alter it.
The rogue squeezes harder.
"You're weak."
Ryuto exhales.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He compresses air in a micro-thin horizontal plane between them.
Releases.
The rogue's forearm splits open.
A perfect surgical line.
Blood sprays sideways.
The rogue recoils.
"…What—"
More cuts appear.
Thin.
Precise.
Because Ryuto isn't swinging.
He's creating rapid pressure differentials that shear through tissue.
Air forced through condensed channels becomes blade.
Invisible.
Silent.
[Escalation — Brutal]
The rogue roars and charges again.
Ryuto increases atmospheric density around its legs.
Higher density = greater resistance.
The rogue's movement drags unnaturally.
It feels heavy.
As if running underwater.
It punches.
Ryuto slightly tilts his head.
The fist misses by millimeters.
He lifts two fingers.
Compresses a vertical column of air.
Releases downward.
The rogue's shoulder implodes.
Bone splinters outward through flesh.
White fragments scatter across brick.
It screams—
The scream distorts.
Sound waves refracted by uneven pressure zones.
The rogue lunges desperately.
Ryuto increases internal pressure within the rogue's lungs by rapidly condensing air around its chest cavity.
External compression meets internal oxygen expansion.
The result—
Ribs snap inward.
Organs rupture.
Blood erupts violently from mouth and eyes.
Not dripping.
Exploding.
The rogue drops to its knees.
Coughing chunks of lung tissue.
"…Monster…"
Ryuto steps forward.
Expression unchanged.
He lowers his hand.
Increases lateral pressure at neck level.
Releases.
The rogue's head detaches cleanly.
Spins mid-air.
Body collapses in pieces.
Blood hovers for half a second—
Held in a distorted pressure pocket—
Then slams to the ground.
Rain resumes normal pattern.
Air stabilizes.
Silence.
[Aftermath]
Ryuto stands there.
Blood mist settling around him.
Breathing steady.
His chest burns beneath clothing.
The sigil glows faintly.
His tolerance for atmospheric strain increases slightly.
His nervous system recalibrates.
Not stronger randomly.
Adapted through trauma.
Stress-triggered evolution.
Wind Tier 1 stabilized.
The human victim stares at him.
Terrified.
"W-what are you—"
Ryuto turns away.
No answer.
He walks out of the alley.
Stepping through blood without looking down.
The wind coils behind him like a silent serpent.
[Cut — Ashen Crown Chamber]
Ancient stone.
Elders seated in shadow.
One voice:
"The prototype has triggered again."
Another:
"Pressure output increased by twelve percent."
A third:
"He adapts when near death."
Silence.
"…Continue observation."
[Final Page — Rooftop]
Ryuto stands overlooking the city.
Lightning flickers.
Wind spirals upward around him.
His silver eyes glow faintly.
Behind him—
For a split second—
A massive storm-serpent silhouette forms within the clouds.
Hollow eyes watching him.
Then gone.
Ryuto touches his chest lightly.
Whispers—
"…Why was I made?"
Black page.
AERION
End Chapter 1.