Twenty-five years ago, when the Arches first appeared, they remained active for ten straight days. During that time, the Terrors ran rampant, leaving carnage in their wake, tearing through cities, killing indiscriminately, and pushing humanity to the brink of extinction. If it weren't for the intervention of the other races, humankind might not have survived.
But there was one other force that saved them.
Aether, an invisible energy that flows through all living things. It fuels the abilities of every race and powers the Arches themselves. It is the lifeblood of the universe.
For reasons still not fully understood, the Arches aren't always active. Their intermittent nature, governed by the unpredictable ebb and flow of Aether—became humanity's greatest stroke of luck. It gave them time to regroup. To adapt. To survive.
In time, humanity learned of a new threat, "Aether storms."
These storms would erupt without warning, opening Arches across the globe and unleashing Terrors from multiple realms all at once. The unpredictability of it all sparked just as much panic as the initial emergence of the Arches themselves. No one ever knew where or when the next storm would strike.
But like with all things, humanity adapted.
Aether, though invisible, has a presence, a certain "feel" in the air, a "weight" on the environment. Normally, this presence is constant, like the quiet hum of the universe itself. But when that feeling vanishes, when the air becomes eerily still and hollow, it signals a gathering. Aether is pooling... and a storm is coming.
This discovery changed everything.
With at least a day's notice, cities began deploying Adapters in force. Emergency protocols were established. Defenses readied.
Yet even with preparation, Aether storms remained chaotic. Creatures from one Arch could manifest at another halfway across the world. No single city was ever truly safe, which is why no city ever prepared alone.
Still, even armed with all this knowledge, Aether storms remained dangerous—and no one in their right mind would ever travel through one.
*
"Are you crazy?!" Dorian yelled.
"You have no clue where you'll end up! You could land on a completely different planet—or in the middle of a Drakonid stronghold!"
"It's suicide!"
"He's right, Griffin. This is a pretty bad idea."
"But I'm all about bad ideas," Jaime said, grinning.
"You're insane. I like that about you," Elara added with a smile.
Dorian jumped up and down, almost blowing a gasket at our cavalier attitude.
"You have a Drakonid with you, don't you? Why not just get authorization for the arch to be opened up?"
"It's far less risky and actually LEGAL!"
"No. Even with Elara accompanying us, entering Volcaris will still be difficult."
"What? Why?"
"Archway patrols are glorified toll trolls. You pay, or they dig through your gear and make up laws on the spot."
"Also, the time it'll take for them to contact Volcaris, get clearance, and activate the arch could take months."
"Months that I don't have."
Dorian froze. "You've got to be kidding me."
His eye twitched. Then he buried his face in both hands and groaned. "This is madness. Actual madness."
"Then it's settled. We head for Virelith in a week."
"Crazy bastards, the lot of you," Dorian muttered.
'He'll get over it.'
I stood to leave, but Elara stepped in front of me.
"What?"
"I need to speak with you."
"Go on."
"Why are you so weak?"
I nearly rolled my eyes.
'This again?'
"I told you already. I don't have a system."
"I know."
"Then why ask?"
"You're aware of Aether," she said quietly. "But you don't use it."
"Why?"
"I can't."
Her eyes widened. For a moment, she didn't speak. Then, the air shifted. A subtle pressure built in the room, and her hair began to lift as if caught in an unseen current.
It was such a sharp, sudden reaction that even Dorian and Jaime looked over. Whatever energy she was giving off, they felt it too.
'What's her deal?'
"That's impossible. All living things possess aether, even a toddler can use aether."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I still can't use it."
"What's going on?" Jaime asked.
"She doesn't believe that I can't use aether."
"Oh, well you are a one in a 8 billion case."
"Explain." Elara said in a deadpan tone.
"Well, aether is used and felt by humans in a different way than races like you Drakonids. The system is our guide and teacher."
"And since Griffin here lacks a system, no one can properly teach him how to use it."
Elara's gaze turned cold. Not angry—just... disappointed. Like a parent staring down a failed report card.
"A living being… with no instinct for Aether. How pathetic."
'Did she just—?'
Jaime looked like he was watching a movie, expression caught somewhere between concern and curiosity. Dorian, meanwhile, was cackling at the front like this was the best entertainment he'd had all week.
She didn't say another word. Just walked to the front, sat down, and shut her eyes like she hadn't just insulted my entire existence.
She was really starting to get on my last nerve.
"I'll be back in an hour. You guys do whatever."
"Sure thing."
I stepped out of Dorian's workshop and made my way toward the city center. The streets of Bladepoint buzzed with activity, metal ringing from forges, the hiss of steam vents, the occasional burst of laughter or swearing from a nearby shop.
Eventually, I reached a majestic, over the top building with a bold sign overhead: The Arena.
Bladepoint was a haven for blacksmiths and engineers, which meant it attracted adapters, powerful ones. They were always testing out new weapons or modifications. But with that kind of strength, sparring in the middle of the street wasn't exactly encouraged.
So they built the Arena. A sanctioned place for violence.
The rules are simple:
No killing.Only the weapons being tested are allowed.Fighters must be around the same level—or willingly suppress their strength to match.Both parties must consent.A wager must be made.
Those five rules keep the blood off the streets and the gold flowing in. They're fair, high-stakes, and surprisingly profitable. The Arena rakes in over a million gold a month because of them.
People don't just come for the fights; they come for the thrill, the gamble, the spectacle.
And the reason I was here?
Rules Three and Five.
All the money I'd earned from the last contract was going straight into Dorian's tinkering obsession, and we still needed funds for the trip to Virelith. This was the fastest way to get it.
Sure, fighting high-level adapters head-on would get me smushed. But in a match where everything's equal?
No one is my equal.
As I was getting ready to step into the arena, I caught sight of two familiar silhouettes.
"Where is that slowpoke?"
"So this is the so-called arena?"
Jaime and Elara, standing at the entrance like tourists at a theme park. Jaime still had his black-tinted sunglasses on, and he finally got a new shirt to wear. Elara's hair danced in the moonlight, those crimson eyes of hers cutting through everything they landed on.
They were waiting for me.
"Ah, there he is."
Jaime spotted me and tapped Elara's shoulder, motioning her to follow. The two of them looked… chummier than I remembered.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"First things first. Dorian told me to give you these."
He tossed me a sword and a revolver. More specifically, a Great War sword and a .44 Magnum. Heavy-hitters, both of them. Precision and raw power in steel and lead.
'Nice one, Dorian.'
"I figured you were coming here to score some coin, so I tailed you. And she," he jerked a thumb at Elara, "wanted to come along 'cause she was curious."
I turned to her. She stared at me like I had something hanging off my face. This went on for an uncomfortable amount of time before she finally spoke.
"Don't disappoint me."
And with that, she walked off.
'Where does she get off?'
Jaime threw an arm around my neck and grinned.
"You heard her, buddy. Let's go kick some ass."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
This might turn out more lucrative than I thought.