🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋✦ AetherBorne: The Archivus Legacy ✦🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋Â
I narrowed my eyes at the smoke-filled crater. "I think so."
The battlefield was unrecognizable. The once solid ground was now a vast abyss of destruction, shattered by the sheer force of our attacks. The dust had yet to settle.
For a moment, we stood still, waiting.
Waiting to see if the nightmare had finally ended.
As the dust began to settle, the battlefield finally came into view.
The King Beetle lay motionless on the ground.
A full minute passed.
Then—it stood.
Its once-proud armor, now shattered beyond recognition, crumbled from its form. The engraving of my fist was still imprinted on its cheek—a reminder that I had wounded it.
A low, eerie "Eek, eek."
It wasn't a sound of pain. It was a command.
The swarmborn froze in place. Not a single insect moved, as if waiting for its next order.
Then, the King Beetle raised its massive hands.
Steam hissed from its body.
With a heavy, ground-shaking thud, its broken carapace detached, crashing into the ground like discarded armor.
Then, it reached for its head.
I watched in horror as the beetle's face was peeled away.
Like a warrior removing his helmet.
The horns snapped off, discarded like mere accessories. Beneath the broken shell, a new face emerged—an ant's face. As if the beetle's visage had only ever been a mask.
Then, just as casually, it placed the beetle's face back on—like a trophy, a keepsake from our battle.
A chill ran down my spine.
Then—its transformation continued.
The last of its broken carapace fell apart, revealing a sleeker, more terrifying form.
Then—it revealed another set of arms.
Instead of mantid blades, its forearms bulged with massive, overgrown extensor carpi muscles—twisted and grotesque, like sinewy steel cables ready to snap.
Like Popeye's arms—if they belonged to a monster.
Then, with a low hum, its wings unfurled.
Black wings.
Like a grasshopper's.
Then—it moved.
FWOOOSH—BOOM!
A deafening shockwave ripped through the air before my mind could process what happened. The ground beneath me trembled, dust and debris scattering in all directions. My ears rang. My vision blurred. A blur of black and red streaked past—too fast, too sudden.
Then—BAM!
A thunderous collision. The sound of metal shrieking, of flesh meeting unstoppable force. Freya's body rocketed backward like a missile, smashing through debris, carving a deep trench in the ground. Her dual axes, still gripped in her hands, trembled under the sheer force of the impact.
I barely saw it. No, I didn't see it at all. It was only when the aftermath unfolded—the dust, the debris, the silence—that I realized the King Beetle had already struck.
My breathing hitched. That speed… that power…
It wasn't just fast. It moved like death itself.
A black blur.
Freya was gone.
No. Not gone—flying.
The force of the impact launched her across the battlefield.
She had blocked the attack with her axe, but it didn't matter—the sheer force of it was devastating.
I barely had time to react before I felt its gaze settle on me.
Slowly—it turned its head.
The air around me felt heavier, suffocating, like the battlefield itself was shrinking.
It was no longer the towering juggernaut of before. No. This new form was leaner, deadlier, faster. Its grotesquely overgrown extensor carpi muscles twitched, pulsing with raw, inhuman strength.
Then—it locked eyes with me.
A shiver shot through my spine. My breath hitched. Something primal, something buried deep in my instincts, screamed at me to run. But my legs wouldn't move. I was frozen.
Not by choice.
Not by hesitation.
But by the sheer, crushing weight of its presence.
Death.
It was here. Staring me down. Clawing at my throat.
The world around me blurred. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, deafening, drowning out all other sound. I couldn't breathe. My lungs refused to work.
This is it.
The end.
My body wouldn't respond. My fingers wouldn't curl into fists. My mouth wouldn't even open to scream.
I closed my eyes.
Waiting for oblivion.
Then—
BOOM!
An explosion.
I snapped my eyes open just in time to see the King Beetle knocked backward, smoke trailing from its chest.
What—?
Then—I saw him.
A shadow against the carnage. Unyielding. Immovable. A monolith amidst the chaos.
Massive. Familiar.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU FOOL?!"
Grandpa.
His voice tore through the battlefield like a thunderclap, shaking me to my core. The weight of his words crushed the suffocating fear gripping my chest.
"GET A GRIP! IF YOU'RE GONNA DIE—THEN DIE FIGHTING, YOU DAMN FOOL!"
I gasped, my body trembling as I fought to comprehend.
The sound I heard earlier—it wasn't an explosion.
It was a cannonball.
A cannonball fired by Grandpa.
The King Beetle staggered from the impact, its monstrous form momentarily held back.
I barely had time to process when—
THUD.
A vial slammed into my chest. My fingers instinctively closed around it.
"NO TIME FOR QUESTIONS! GO TO Freya—NOW!"
His command was absolute. My body moved before my mind could think.
I glanced down at the vial, my breath hitching.
Aether medicine.
"It'll force an adrenaline surge, amplify her Aether circulation, and repair damage—TEMPORARILY."
His voice was ironclad, unwavering.
"NOW RUN!"
I ran.
The battlefield blurred around me, my body moving on sheer instinct. Freya—I had to reach her.
There was no time to think. No time to hesitate.
Because Grandpa had arrived.
And when Grandpa arrives—things change.
But none of that mattered. Not right now.
Freya lay collapsed on the ground, her body motionless, her breaths shallow. My chest tightened at the sight. The unwavering force that had always stood by my side—the one person who never doubted me—was slipping away.
I dropped to my knees beside her, my fingers trembling as I pressed them against her neck. Her pulse—weak. Fading.
"No… No, no, no," I whispered, my voice cracking.
The world around me dimmed, the battlefield noise fading into a distant hum. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. I couldn't lose her. Not her. Not the only person who had ever—
My heart dropped.
"GRANDPA! SOMETHING'S WRONG!" I shouted
I turned to look at him—and finally realized something.
Even though the King Beetle towered ten feet tall, even though it was monstrous, even though it had changed into something more powerful—
It felt small compared to Grandpa.
The King Beetle tilted its head, eeking softly.
It could feel it too.
Grandpa's gaze flickered toward Freya—not at the King Beetle, not at the battlefield, but at her.
His expression darkened.
"Tch. You're lucky."
The words were barely a whisper, but they carried weight—not pity, not relief, but frustration. As if something more important than this fight was at stake. As if he had no time to waste on an overgrown insect.
He turned toward us, his massive frame striding forward with the presence of a war god descending upon mortals. The ground seemed to shrink beneath his steps—each movement deliberate, each second exuding raw dominance.
Then—
Fwoom... fwoom... FWOOOM—
A high-speed blur closing in, its pressure cutting the wind like a blade.
A blur of black. The King Beetle.
Its grotesque form cut through the air like a phantom, its speed defying logic—one moment far, the next, right in front of Grandpa.
It struck.
A devastating blow aimed to stop a titan, grandpa . A fist large enough to cave in steel.
It never landed.
CRACK.
Grandpa's right hand moved so fast I barely saw it—just a blur of motion, a hurricane of force condensed into a single point. His fist met the King Beetle's cheek. Flesh, chitin, and bone crumpled under the impact.
Then—SILENCE.
For a fraction of a second, the entire battlefield froze.
The next second—
BOOOOM.
A shockwave tore through the air, blasting debris outward like a meteor strike.
The King Beetle's body launched like a bullet, soaring through the battlefield—no, beyond it—crashing through ruins, through hills, through anything in its path.
A blur in the sky. A vanishing star. WITHOUT using Galaxy Punch.
Grandpa lowered his fist, exhaling like he had merely swatted a fly.
I was speechless.
Grandpa was still holding back.
But there was no time to admire it.
The King Beetle was sent flying, tumbling across the battlefield.
Before it could recover, Grandpa lightly tapped me and Freya.
A familiar sensation—teleportation.
The battlefield vanished.
🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋✦ AetherBorne: The Archivus Legacy ✦🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋Â
New Maharlikan City (Capital City of Aurealis)– Emergency Room
The moment we reappeared, the air snapped like a rubber band.
A sudden shift in pressure stole the breath from my lungs.
White lights. Sterile walls. The scent of alcohol and adrenaline.
We were in a hospital.
"We've got incoming!" a voice barked.
"Two patients—priority one!"
Doctors surged forward in a blur of motion—scrubs, gloves, urgency.
Freya was torn from my arms, her hair trailing behind like a ribbon.
They placed her onto a stretcher without pause.
"BP's dropping—start fluids!"
"Get that oxygen on her now!"
I tried to speak—tried to follow—but hands caught me next.
"Sir, stay with me. You're bleeding—lie back."
Another stretcher rolled in. Mine.
My vision swam.
I barely felt myself being laid onto a bed before everything faded to black.
Was it exhaustion?
Or was it the lingering presence of death itself?
I didn't know.
But I let go.
Darkness took me.
And the battle...
It's over.
🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋✦ AetherBorne: The Archivus Legacy ✦🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋🜋Â
I woke to the sound of voices.
Low. Muffled. Male.
Like a quiet conversation wrapped in shadows.
My body felt heavy—like I'd been asleep for days.
The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, but beneath it… something familiar.
Coffee.
Rich. Bitter. The kind only one person brewed that strong.
My eyes cracked open to darkness.
Not pitch black, but that dim silver kind—the kind that only comes past midnight, when moonlight filters through half-drawn blinds and the world has gone quiet.
Machines hummed softly beside me, their rhythm steady.
The monitor beeped in slow, measured tones—probably mine.
It took effort, but I turned my head just enough to see them.
Two figures.
One sitting stiffly in a plastic chair by the door, arms crossed, back perfectly straight like even sleep couldn't break his posture.
Grandpa. Even in shadow, that stern silhouette was impossible to miss. Like a boulder that refused to erode.
The other leaned by the counter, sipping from a paper cup.
Steam curled upward in lazy spirals, catching the moonlight in streaks.
The tilt of his shoulders. That quiet sigh after each sip.
Father.
I blinked slowly. My mind still felt like it was wading through fog.
But there was no mistaking it.
They were here.
Both of them.
Neither noticed I was awake.
I stayed still.
Silent.
Listening to the faint scrape of the cup, the rustle of Grandpa shifting in his seat, and the gentle hiss of the air vent.
The world outside that room didn't matter. Not now.
Just for this moment…
In the middle of the night, in a hospital room bathed in silver light—
I wasn't alone.
"How is he?" My father's voice was laced with worry, though he tried to mask it with forced calm.
Grandpa exhaled, unconcerned. "He's fine. Don't be so damn dramatic."
"How can I NOT be worried? He fought a King Beetle, for god's sake."
Grandpa let out a short chuckle. "Hmph. And? I've fought worse in my youth."
My father scoffed, clearly not amused. "That doesn't mean—"
"The doctor said the damage is already healed," Grandpa cut him off, voice steady. "A few more days and he'll be back in top shape. You worry too much."
I heard my father sigh, the tension in his voice still unrelenting.
Grandpa continued, this time his tone was more serious. "I'm more concerned about Freya. She was not built for endurance. If we hadn't acted fast, she would've been dead." He paused. "She's out of danger for now. But she needs rest."
A weight lifted from my chest.
Freya was safe.
I needed to thank her… to express my gratitude once she woke up.
But then, my father's voice sharpened. "This is YOUR fault."
A pause.
Then he continued, his words more forceful. "That ridiculous training regime you put him through—"
Grandpa didn't hesitate. "Without that 'ridiculous' training, he'd be weak."
My father clenched his jaw. "At least if he was weak, THIS wouldn't have happened."
A sudden shift in the air.
Then—
"Enough."
Grandpa's voice was a hammer, slamming down with the weight of absolute authority.
The room fell into silence.
He continued, calm but unyielding. "I had my reasons. You know that."
Father said nothing.
Grandpa sighed. "Let's just be thankful Freya was there. And that everything's okay." His voice turned resolute. "Ryuji just needs to be stronger. We won't always be there for him."
Stronger…
I swallowed hard, gripping the sheets beneath me.
I knew that.
I knew that better than anyone.
A long pause. Then, my father exhaled. "What did the government say?"
A loaded question.
"You're retired," he continued, his voice edged with concern. "They banned you from stepping onto any battlefield. If they find out—"
Grandpa scoffed, cutting him off.
"What can they do? Put me to prison?"
His voice was low, gravelly—but there was a dangerous weight behind every word.
Not loud, but enough to make the room feel tighter, like the air had thickened.
The scent of strong coffee lingered between them, bitter and grounding.
Somewhere in the distance, a monitor beeped faintly, rhythmic and oblivious.
A quiet, dangerous intensity laced his tone.
"If it's about this family—if they try to touch what's mine—"
His breath hitched—barely. The muscles in his jaw tensed, visible even in the sliver of moonlight slicing through the blinds.
There was no humor in his next breath.
No smile behind it. Just cold, simmering rage.
"I'll turn this world upside down."
The room fell quiet.
Then, with a voice like embers smoldering beneath ash, he continued—controlled, but furious.
"We have the agreement," Grandpa said madly, but not so loud as to wake us.
His words trembled on a line between promise and threat, clenched tight with conviction.
The night held its breath.
And the world beyond that dim hospital room felt suddenly... very small.
"Agreement" Making me Intrigue
My father didn't respond. Because he understood.
This was Grandpa.
Nothing was more precious to him than the family he built with his own hands.
A heavy silence lingered then granpa finally spoke again. "And you? How are you holding up?"
Father leaned back slightly. "Crescent Continent" he asked.
A tired sigh. "It's a mess," my father admitted. "Without the Barrier Wall, the titans would have already overrun us."
"But you're holding?" Grandpa Asked
"For now." Father Replied
A slow nod. "Good," Grandpa muttered. "You know the drill. If it gets bad, break your Aether Watch. I'll be there."
My father exhaled through his nose. "Don't worry about me."
Grandpa said nothing, but I could sense the way his eyes lingered.
Then—
"What about your wife?"
The question hit like a blade slicing through the quiet.
A pause.
A long, heavy silence.
"…No news."
Grandpa's expression darkened slightly. "I see."
Then, a warning.
"Keep it a secret from Ryuji." my father whisperedÂ
…What?
My mother?
Why?
Confusion clouded my mind, but my body was still too weak, too sluggish. My limbs felt like lead. My head pounded.
I wanted to demand answers.
I wanted to sit up, look my father in the eye, and ask him why.
But the pain dragged me down.
Damn it…
My body refused to obey.
As the haze of exhaustion swallowed me again, my last thoughts were of her.
And the secrets I wasn't meant to know.
Then—
Darkness.