The Aether haze billowed like a torn veil after the blast—no, after the Aether impact scattered into a drifting mist. The spear-bearing Valkyries moved like reapers in wheat, their harvest done. They angled to slip away under that dim cover, like fish vanishing into reeds, and fall back to the Aether Barrier.
One sweep had fattened their haul like a winter larder. Each storage ring felt like a small moon heavy with nearly a thousand crystals, glittering like frost. Some were cracked, some flawed like chipped ice, but the pile would feed research like rain feeds spring shoots.
“Haiyin, fall back.” The voice came quick and tight, like a plucked string in fog. “We’ve got enough crystals. The mist’s thinning. The next beast tide is almost here.”
Before a hulking elite beast, a purple-haired Valkyrie named Haiyin still dug like a miner under starlight, reluctant to leave. This elite carcass was strange as a storm-twisted tree—most of its body had mutated. Every joint and even its organs hid crystals of power, condensed like seeds in a pomegranate. Haiyin had spotted it at the edge of retreat like a hawk catching a glint and rushed in to pry.
For studying these warped beasts, more crystals were always better, like more threads on a loom. Special cases mattered most, like rare herbs on a healer’s shelf. The more unique samples they had, the sooner they could unweave why the beast tides rose like tides under the moon. With a target this valuable, Haiyin saw no reason to let it go like a fish from the net.
“Lori, you head back first.” Her tone stayed calm as cold water, then turned firm. “I’m faster than all of you. I’ll make it. Don’t worry about me. If we wait, other squads will pile in. Don’t drag the others down.”
Her spear shifted in her hands like quicksilver, then split the carcass with surgeon-speed. Chunks of flesh came free like wet clay, and shallow-layer crystals gleamed up like buried lamps. Even at that blistering pace, her precision stayed steady as a metronome. Crystals flicked up like sparks and vanished into her storage ring.
Fear hit Lori first like a sudden gust, then her hands tightened on her spear till the knuckles went pale. Through the thinning Aether mist, she pictured snarling maws at arm’s length, roars about to break over her like surf. Haiyin still worked as if shelling beans, eyes fixed on the elite beast, as if she meant to dig deeper still.
“B-but, Haiyin, it’s too dangerous for you to stay here alone…” Her words trembled like a leaf in wind, then broke.
“Squad Three, Squad Three, respond—what’s your distance to the barrier?” The Aether comm on her armor crackled like a dry spark. The assault-leader of Squad One was hailing them, voice steady as drumbeats. Most Valkyrie squads had already fallen back within range where Aether sense could brush them like a tide, or he wouldn’t call directly on Squad Three’s channel.
Torn, Lori’s heart seesawed like a lantern in storm. One side was her partner; the other, her captain.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Haiyin. But this elite’s body was massive, like a mountain next to hills, far beyond their battlefield cleanup charts. Sinking time here was unwise, like planting in winter. And if things turned worst, she knew staying would be useless as an empty blade. She had to reach the Aether Barrier and call for help from the Valkyrie domain, like striking a gong for aid.
Besides, Haiyin never budged when Lori tried to talk her down—habit hardened like old ice. It wasn’t bias; Haiyin just locked in when she worked, sharp as a drawn bow. To speak plain, she tilted toward obsession. Lori couldn’t sway her. Force was a joke—Lori wasn’t strong enough to pin Haiyin, and Haiyin’s hard training had pushed her skills ahead like a runner breaking the pack.
Thoughts ran quick as rain, then settled. Lori chose.
“Haiyin—catch!”
A shadow cut over like a hawk’s wing. Haiyin’s hand snapped up on instinct, catching the thrown weight before thought could bloom. The feel of it struck her palm like a live spark, and a cold dread slid through her ribs. She looked up, anger rising like steam, ready to snap at Lori.
Who throws an Aether Scroll—their last-ditch lifeline—like a rock?!
It was a scroll handcrafted by Brynhildr, gilt with layered arrays like rings in ancient oak. It held composite effects: Extreme Healing, Grand Barrier, Time Freeze, Aether Burn, Aether Explosion, Aether Compression Reinforcement… Each array was a vessel that took the faintest strand—one ten-thousandth—of Brynhildr’s Aether, then magnified it in a heartbeat like a bell struck full-force, unleashing power near her own.
From shelter to ruin, it covered all. If the Valkyries were swarmed like a boat in piranhas, the five defensive arrays would ignite first, stacking like stone walls. Breaking them all at once would be near impossible unless foes on Sigdrifa’s level struck together like thunder. In practice, it forged an almost-invincible shield.
Next, anchored to that shield, the remaining Aether would compress and flare, then compress again, like a forge bellows pumping to white heat within the etched arrays. It chased one aim: maximal force at release, like lightning hitting the tallest tree. Any who dared rush them—or stood too strong—would taste a blow near Brynhildr’s own. In this world, few could stand before a strike from her like a cliff before a storm.
Of course, the perfect spear and the perfect shield are a paradox, like fire and ice in one cup. Power and defense both decayed with time, only peaking at the instant of release, like a spark’s brightest flare. To keep those inside safe, Brynhildr had even parsed the time laws of the Asgardian Realm, altering threads to work a “Time Freeze” miracle like frost locking a river.
A treasure like this wouldn’t be easy to trigger, like a vault with hidden catches. Yet in set cases, it became simple as a heartbeat. While a Valkyrie held it, it wouldn’t misfire from jolts or pressure; its protections linked to their minds like a tether. As long as it stayed with them, accidents were a winter dream.
But if enemies seized it—or it stayed separated long enough to break that link—then at the first hostile touch it would wake like a guard dog and trigger. Brynhildr’s lingering Aether inside would judge friend and foe like scales seeking balance.
And Lori had thrown it. Just tossed it. If Haiyin had missed and it grazed the beast’s corpse, she’d be dead like a candle in wind! Haiyin lifted her gaze, anger hot as iron, only to meet Lori’s wet eyes shining like rain.
“Haiyin, I’ll report to Lady Brynhildr!” The vow rang like a bell.
Lori wiped her tears in one hard swipe, then sprinted for the Aether Barrier like a deer for the treeline. Haiyin froze a heartbeat, surprise opening like a blossom. Guilt pricked her—she hadn’t meant to make her gentle partner cry like that…
Yet warmth rose too, like coals under ash. If you trust me, I won’t betray it. Her resolve set like jade. Haiyin’s cutting sped up, quick as sleet, and that odd pull in her bones grew stronger, like a compass tugging north. Among Valkyries, Haiyin’s sense was the keenest, a thread that never snapped. She trusted it wouldn’t fail her now.
Running, Lori thumbed her Aether comm on and scrubbed the last tears away like fog from a mirror. Her voice steadied like a line cast sure. “Flora, Squad Three is returning. Requesting cover.”
“Copy.” The reply came crisp as steel. “Twenty seconds until the Aether mist fully clears. All units to ready posture. Prepare to receive Squad Three.”
Within ten meters of the barrier, the assault leader—Flora—switched her comm to the open channel like a beacon. Orders rolled out like drumbeats, and nearly every assault squad shifted their formations like geese wheeling in sky. They halted at the ten-meter mark, paired off for cover like shields overlapping, eyes on the mist, waiting for Squad Three.
“Captain, are they going to be okay?” Flora’s partner couldn’t hide the worry, voice thin as thread. She knew Haiyin and Lori, knew their bond and its frictions like weathered knots. Lori’s near-sob over comms would rattle anyone like a sudden chill.
“They’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I trust them.” Flora’s smile was a calm shore, and she shook her head lightly.
“Heavy-armored Valkyries, out of the barrier!” Her voice cut clean, a blade over water. “Stand by to deploy the Valhalla Shield. Fire-support Valkyries, hold your marks. Eye of Aether comes online in ten seconds. Load repulsion rounds and isolator rounds, alternate fire!”
Just then, the commanding Valkyrie lifted her faceplate, her features clear as a moon between clouds. She looked less like Brynhildr’s soft spring and more like Sigdrifa’s sharp winter—beauty edged with steel. An eyepatch shaded her left eye like a raven’s wing, lending her a quiet, stern gravity.
In her right eye, the pupil drew into a cross like a star forming at night. She stared into the Aether mist like a hunter into brush, searching for silhouettes to bring home.
