Music for chapter: P.O.S. - That one
Aullie woke to silence. Not the kind that invited peace, but the kind that let unease fester. The lights above were dim, bathing the sterile white recovery room in a dull blue hue. He could hear the low hum of Aether-filtration vents and the quiet beeping of a vitals monitor to his left. Shinku lay curled at the foot of his bed, eyes closed but alert.
In his right hand, Aullie absentmindedly played with his bronze lockpick.
He was alone, but not unobserved.
Transparent Aether-shields shimmered faintly along the room's walls. Not containment yet, but enough to make him feel more specimen than student.
His body felt fine. Strong, even. Whatever they'd used to stabilize him after the Awakening had done its job. As he shifted upright, the faint glimmer of his Void bead beneath his skin pulsed, responding like a creature stirring with hunger.
Shinku stretched and yawned, tail flicking lazily.
"You're awake. Good."
Aullie blinked. "You... I can hear you."
"Took you long enough to notice," the cat replied, his voice clear in Aullie's mind.
He blinked again. It wasn't speech, it felt telepathic.
"That's not supposed to be possible," Aullie muttered.
"I'm not supposed to be possible," Shinku replied, tail curling. "Let's stop pretending anything about me follows the rules."
Aullie stared at him a long moment. "You were there, weren't you? Back then, at the shrine, the cat I used to feed."
Shinku didn't blink. "I was. Not exactly like this, but yes. My soul came with yours, when you died, I followed. I don't know how, but when I was born again here, something changed, I gained knowledge and intelligence I never had before. Then I remembered. I watched. I waited."
Aullie sat heavily on the edge of the bed, stunned.
"So all these dreams I've had since I was a kid... they were real? They are fragments of a past life of mine?"
Shinku tilted his head. "I was wondering when it would all click into place for you. Yes, whatever dreams or nightmares you've been experiencing are most likely flashbacks of your life back then, back when you were the only human to treat me with care, the only human to give me food, even when you were struggling to feed yourself."
"That's why we bonded so easily," he said quietly.
"We always belonged to each other," Shinku replied.
Aullie sat there with his hands covering his face for a few minutes, just digesting the fact that everything was real. "I'm going to need some time to let this sink in. I really don't want to get into all of what this means right now."
Shinku didn't respond, just bumped his head on Aullie's leg.
Aullie exhaled and swung his legs off the bed. "You really bound yourself to my bead and gave me void powers."
"You needed it, and now you're not alone."
Aullie stood and glanced down at his right wrist. The black-violet bead shimmered faintly, cool against his skin. "I tried to bind two of your skills to the jewel after it stabilized, but it wouldn't let me."
"Because Void doesn't follow your human rules. One jewel, one Void ability. That's the price of our power."
Aullie frowned. "But beasts are supposed to allow two skills per jewel. That's how it works."
"And Void is supposed to be extinct," Shinku said evenly. "Adapt."
He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching into the bond. One skill had connected: Void Step, a short-range teleportation ability. He'd picked it for mobility, always valuing mobility in a fight.
Shinku's additional abilities remained temporarily unavailable: Void Ray, a penetrating energy blast, and Negate, a defensive void-portal capable of redirecting or destroying incoming attacks. They hovered behind a wall he couldn't breach.
Only one ability. One Void. One rule.
Aullie paced slowly, staring at the bead. "So what, I need to find more of you? Another Void beast?"
Shinku snorted. "You'll be lucky to ever see another one again. The portals that used to leak them shut with the first invasions, remember? We're as close to extinction as it gets."
"Then how did Forrest do it?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. But I wouldn't be surprised if someone or something chose him. Just like someone chose you."
Later that day, someone knocked once and entered without waiting.
Dane Cartwright.
Aullie recognized the name from hushed conversations in Academy hallways, rumors of Britain's strongest Jewel Master who wielded the dual affinities of Light and Darkness. But none of that prepared him for the reality.
Dane Cartwright had once been a fixture in London. Brynn Ikeda, Aullie's mother, had grown up there; she and Dane had been childhood friends, inseparable until he moved to the United States with his family at sixteen. She had been his compass, his sanctuary, and though he'd never had the courage to tell her, his heart had always belonged to her. By the time he returned to London years later, ready to confess what he'd buried for so long, she was gone.
She had left everything behind, her powerful family, her country, and her old life, to follow Aoi Ikeda, the man she fell in love with during his short academic stay in England. Dane never knew until it was too late.
But that hadn't stopped him from watching. Quietly. Protectively. Especially after Aoi's death.
None of this was known to Brynn or Aullie. He just wanted the woman he always loved to be safe, and her boy to not be abused by people in power.
And now, here he was, stepping into the life of the boy Brynn had raised alone.
He entered like the storm. He was immense and commanding. There was something surreal about the man in person, as if he didn't quite belong to the same world.
Dane commanded quiet authority, his tall frame adorned in a sharply tailored black-and-silver coat that subtly shimmered with protective runes. His pale blond hair was tied back, and his eyes, an uncanny shade of steel gray, felt like they had seem a little too much.
Aullie stood instinctively, unsure if he was supposed to bow or salute. His throat felt dry.
"You're... Dane Cartwright," he said.
Dane nodded once. "And you're the boy with the Void."
His presence sucked the weight out of the room. Aullie straightened.
The man's voice was calm, precise. "How are you holding up?"
"Alive. Which feels... conditional."
"Fair assessment." Dane sat without invitation. "You're being watched. You're not trusted. And every major faction in this school and country is deciding whether to fear you or chain you."
Aullie didn't speak. He couldn't decide if he felt honored or threatened. Why was someone like this here, for him? What did Dane want?
He sat, wary but curious. Every fiber of his being told him this meeting wasn't just about power. There was something else behind those eyes, something tired.
Dane reached into his coat and slid a black coin across the table. A silver rune shimmered faintly along its edge.
"This belonged to Forrest Diechman. He used it to help focus his mind when the Void felt too out of control. Consider it a training wheel."
Aullie picked it up. It was cold, heavier than it looked. "You knew him."
"Better than anyone." Dane studied him. "He also could only bind one ability per Void beast. It's not a flaw. It's containment. But..."
"But?"
"His seventh Void jewel, his final one, granted him three abilities. No one knows how. Not even him."
Aullie nodded slowly. "You think I'll hit the same wall."
"No. I think you'll blow past it."
He stood to leave, then paused. "You've barely scratched the surface of what Void can do. There's more power waiting, always is. Just make sure you're ready when it finds you."
Standing at the door, he added, "Listen carefully, kid. A Royal's smile is about as fake as can be, so when dealing with them, always keep your guard up and your true feelings hidden."
Back at campus, students parted like waves when Aullie walked into the courtyard.
He'd always been an outsider, but this was different. It wasn't rejection or cruelty that greeted him now, it was awe and fear. Heads turned, conversations fell quiet. Aullie kept his gaze ahead, his stride steady, but inside, his unease churned.
He hated the feeling of being watched, even more so when no one dared speak directly to him. Every step felt like walking a knife's edge between reverence and dread.
Part of him understood their reaction, void wasn't just rare; it was legend, myth, whispered in stories of demons and the fallen. He'd become a breathing reminder of that terror.
Yet a deeper part of him, exhausted and bitter, resented how they clutched their bags tighter or stepped away as if he might strike at the slightest provocation.
He wasn't a monster. He was just... himself.
And yet, even he wasn't sure if that would be enough.
Haru met him with a smirk. "Welcome back, golden boy."
Aki threw him a protein bar. Aullie caught it and didn't hesitate to open the wrapper, taking a bite like it was his last meal.
"You always eat like you've never seen food before," Aki teased.
"Because food is sacred," Aullie said, mouth full. "Wasting it should be a crime."
Haru rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."
Aullie jabbed a thumb toward his friends. "One of these days, I'm going to write you both a strongly worded essay on the socioeconomic consequences of food waste."
They laughed, but it wasn't the first time they'd heard that rant, and wouldn't be the last.
Sora didn't speak right away. She just looked at him, eyes quiet, unreadable. Then she gave a small nod. She hadn't flinched. Not once.
Behind them, whispers skittered.
"Is that the Void user?"
"Heard he nearly lost control."
"Heard he disintegrated someone."
"Probably part demon."
Aullie ignored them like he always had.
Haru grinned. "For what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass."
Aki elbowed him. "Of course you do, you have the survival instincts of a panda."
"You say that like it's a bad thing; pandas are awesome."
Sora looked between them. "You two are ridiculous."
And just like that, Aullie felt a little more human again.
A stray tabby cat brushed against his leg. Aullie crouched and focused inward, mentally reaching into his space ring, a small personal storage item that most jewel users owned. While common, most rings had limited capacity unless you were royalty or absurdly rich.
Aullie's ring didn't carry much, just the essentials, some food, emergency supplies, and one thing most wouldn't think to bring: animal treats. He pulled out a small piece and tossed it gently.
The cat munched happily before darting away.
In a world where space was precious, the fact that Aullie used part of his limited ring storage for strays said more about him than he'd ever admit aloud.
Sora watched. "You always have those with you?"
"Can't help it," Aullie said. "The animals didn't ruin the world. They deserve better."
A sudden gust of wind swept through the courtyard as they walked together, rustling the branches overhead and sending petals dancing across their path. Aullie looked up; above the stone walls of Kirin Academy, clouds churned low and dark.
"That storm's been building all day," Haru murmured.
"Feels like the world's holding its breath," Aki added.
Sora glanced over at Aullie, eyes unreadable. "Or bracing for impact."
That afternoon, the first Aether control class began.
The training hall stretched before them, a vast chamber with elevated walkways circling its perimeter. Glowing ward-runes lined the walls, illuminating training dummies reinforced with inscribed metal plates. Anticipation charged the air, while soft blue light from ceiling crystals cast shifting patterns across the polished obsidian floor.
Each student now possessed a bead, their personal connection to a summon or elemental bond, and this moment marked their first opportunity to demonstrate their power before their peers.
Ryota was a second year so he demonstrated first to show the year ones, his movements smooth and controlled. Fire coiled around his right arm while ice misted off his left shoulder. A perfect harmony of contradiction. Several students applauded.
A girl with a lightning bead stepped forward next, her energy discharging in erratic bursts that fractured the floor tiles with each misstep. Following her, an earth-affinity student commanded attention as he methodically raised stone pillars around himself with such composed precision that even several Royals took notice.
Aullie watched, silent. He could feel his Void bead like a heartbeat in his wrist.
When his name was called, the buzz turned to silence.
He stepped forward.
And everything held its breath.
Students formed lines. One by one, they channeled energy from their beads, streams of fire, coils of earth, sparks of lightning.
He reached inward, grasping for his Void power. His hand unconsciously brushed the bronze lockpick resting in his pocket. A nervous tic, or maybe a shield.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the air cracked.
Violet tendrils erupted from his palm, writhing across the ground like serpents. Students stumbled back, gasping. One instructor shouted. Another raised a barrier.
Aullie clenched his fist, heart pounding. Void power writhed but obeyed, responding to his will like a cornered animal watching a familiar hand. The tendrils twitched, then snapped back into his body.
He didn't smile, he didn't bask. He just exhaled and stepped back, quiet and calculating.
That was the difference between him and the others. He didn't need to perform, he wasn't here to show off, he was here to survive.
The coin Dane gave him felt hot in his pocket.
He looked up. Ryota was watching from the corner but not in fear like the rest of the students, but in fascination.
Across the room, someone whispered, "That's not control."
Another added, "If he slips just once..."
The instructor cleared his throat but didn't reprimand Aullie. Instead, he just said, "We'll move on."
That night, Aullie sat cross-legged in his room, coin pressed to his palm. Shinku perched nearby.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" he asked.
Shinku didn't answer.
Because something else did.
Aullie's eyes closed.
Sometimes he felt like a cracked mirror, shaped by two lives, two souls. The quiet boy who fed strays and hoarded worthless trinkets. And the one who used to slit throats in back alleys to see tomorrow.
Both were him and neither were enough.
And he saw it.
Not a dream, not a memory but a vision.
A massive chamber, hollow and dark. At its center, chained and breathing slowly, was..something. Corpse like skin and shadows. Its eyes opened, slow as centuries.
Crimson.
Ancient.
"Soon," it said. No mouth, just voice. Deep and echoing.
Aullie snapped awake, drenched in sweat.
His window rattled from the wind outside.
On his desk was a sealed envelope.
Inside:
Shrine. Dusk. Come alone.
At the bottom of the page, a vertical eye.
Black.
Faintly glowing.