It couldn’t be helped. The more minds know, the more thoughts branch like sparks racing through dry grass. It’s how humans think. When truth surfaces, ideas ripple toward every tangent. All the more after the Stellar Goddess dropped that casual, not-so-casual hint.
Fenrir wasn’t stupid. She knew coincidences that neat don’t exist in this world. People say dreams are a body’s echoes ringing in the soul. But her body and soul stayed split too long. That gift was gone. She wasn’t even the lead of that dream, let alone its dreamer.
“I understand. I’ll have to trouble you for a while, Lady Stellar Goddess.”
Unease swelled first; then Fenrir let out a heavy sigh. Since this lies beyond her reach, hiding well is wiser. Let others call her a coward if they want. You can’t fight if you’re dead; first keep the spark of life. As for clues, she’d left Aphelia more than enough.
“No worries. Rest here for now. Or, if you want, come witness a star being born...”
Her lips curved like a comet’s arc; a laugh slipped free. Alone in a universe emptied of anyone else, even a goddess had little to play with. Especially before she shaped any living forms.
Dread hit first; Fenrir’s face went stiff, a comic mask cracking. She forced a few brittle smiles and shook her head fast. What a joke—star-making is the work of gods. A mortal who watches won’t stay sane. Once, the Stellar Goddess pranked her. “Accidentally” she’d glanced at a newborn star. In an instant, her mind went white, like frost blown over a lake. She faced a data storm too vast to count. Even after forcing it into numbers, her thoughts buckled. With a normal frame, her brain would’ve burned out long ago. She wouldn’t be here talking at all.
Of course, the Stellar Goddess wouldn’t actually fry her mind. Basic safeguards were in place. But to seed a little awe, the goddess let her glimpse a corner of creation. The result left Fenrir writhing, unable to rise for a long while.
“Rest, then. I’ll keep an eye on Aphelia for now. If anything big shifts, I’ll handle it first.”
She smiled, turned, and left the manor. Starlight stretched a seam through space; she slipped along it into the dark, shoreless cosmos. Fenrir was alone beneath the manor’s quiet roof.
This manor was built by the Stellar Goddess ages ago. It sits outside space, a special refuge. She first meant it as a hideaway to heal from enemies. After she ascended the throne of divinity, it became more symbol than shelter. Fenrir, under her care, had lived here often.
When the goddess left, Fenrir set down her teacup and left the terrace. She stepped inside. The place looked hollowed like lace, a lattice you could fall through. But it was only folded space at work. Those gaps were walls, real as stone. For show, it looked like bravura. But Fenrir knew the Stellar Goddess’s craft with space was beyond anyone. To most strong folk, this felt like showing off. To the goddess, it was a flick of the wrist. She’d shaped it mostly to trip up Fenrir—mischief, pure and simple.
Exasperation breathed first; Fenrir sighed. Couldn’t Her Ladyship save a bit of fuss on things like this? She’d handled these overlaid vistas many times. She set Aether in motion and teased the folded layers apart before her. Sometimes she wondered if the Aphelia in her world shared the same mischievous streak.
Back in the original world, Aphelia slipped past those bizarre toys at full tilt. They couldn’t hurt her, but curiosity drove her to probe their limits.
“This thing’s got a mind for my vector?”
Amused, she smiled and walked forward again. Light flickered in her eyes. She dove straight into the laser web that had knitted itself across the hall. Her body split into a thousand fine pieces. Before those dense beams could touch her, she’d already flowed through.
Tech at this level won’t hurt Aphelia. Truth is, it won’t hurt most Valkyries who command Aether. Spread Aether evenly across the body, and common energy weapons can’t bite. A Valkyrie can even slip through as they prime and wreck the emitters.
As for Uroboros, there’s even less to say. Her black-mist form is a highly dense cluster of Aether. Such weapons can’t act on a cluster like that. Smiling, Uroboros reached the end of the corridor in one drift. Anyone could see this laser array topped out right here.
“Alright, that’s enough. Uroboros, take the system. I’ve figured out how this so-called laser works. Don’t break it; it’s still useful.”
Aphelia bloomed into a streak of crimson and reached the far end. She patted Uroboros on the shoulder. Uroboros, half-laughing, raised both hands and meddled with the system. Aphelia let her gaze comb the room.
The chamber was sealed, a box with no doors to anywhere. It looked like a dead end. Opposite the laser tunnel, a small corner held something like a control desk. It was empty, save for weapons scattered across the floor.
Curiosity pricked; Aphelia sent Aether sweeping out again. Same as before. No trace in the desk, no trace in those weapons, nothing. She widened the scan to the whole platform. Still nothing—no residue of Aether at all.
Could it be infighting—humans killing humans? Then why so clean? Even a careful assassination leaves a smudge. Here, it felt like no one had ever set foot inside. No Aether prints, not even the dust-scuffs of human work. Someone wouldn’t murder and then polish the whole place spotless, would they?
She shook her head and cut the thought. From the battle outside, these people fled the outer line in a rush. They fell back to defend inside. Heavy weapons lay scattered through the first corridor. Nothing about that screams time for assassination and cleanup.
Then… was there a stronger force that wiped them away?
“Aphelia, I’ve got the control system. Want to take over? These lines look severed. I can run this side, but the inner grid is fully blocked. Not sure whether that was their doing or sabotage.”
Aphelia nodded, then pointed at the wide platform yawning around them. “Is there a passage here?”
“Of course.”
Uroboros swept her smoky arms wide. The mountain-backed platform shuddered hard. Along the cliff walls, rock sloughed off in sheets. Within the mountain, lift platforms revealed themselves. The hidden routes were these passages tucked in the stone. Nine small, one large, circling the platform.
“Tsk, tsk. Hide them this well, and your own people can’t find them?” She smiled. Most soldiers likely used the small shafts to reach the lower base. The big lift was built for special weapons or vehicles.
The words had barely left her mouth when the sight froze her. Uroboros, working the system, also paused, then snapped to. Black mist flooded the huge lift. She sealed everything inside with Aether, locking it like ice.
“So that’s why I never saw any corpses...” A cold smile edged Aphelia’s lips. When the big lift finished its turn, the pile inside came clear. Gaunt soldiers lay sprawled on a blood-stained dais. They were gnawing at the scattered remains. And those remains were human limbs.
