*
Braun's confession must have drained him completely, as not long after, he slipped back into slumber.
Ashen, however, didn't have the luxury of rest. He still had a crisis to deal with in the form of his recall skill.
But the bombshell Braun had dropped left his mind reeling.
'What kind of thing is really behind the Shroud for someone to take their own life at the mere sight of it…?'
It was common knowledge that Earth was surrounded by a strange veil. This veil, also known as the Shroud, was positioned just above the ozone layer, selectively blocking signals, probes, and artificial attempts to breach it, yet still allowing sunlight and natural forces to pass through.
No one knew when it appeared or why it existed, only that nothing, absolutely nothing, could pierce through it.
The phenomenon had baffled scientists for centuries. They tried everything: radio signals, missiles, even physical contact.
But no matter the method, every attempt ended the same way: failure. The Shroud remained untouched, an impenetrable wall between Earth and whatever lay beyond.
Some reckless souls had even attempted to breach it themselves. None survived. The moment they made contact, their bodies dissolved into motes of white light, erased as if they had never existed.
After enough losses, humanity did what it always did when faced with the incomprehensible. They stopped asking questions and filed the Shroud away as just another unsolved mystery.
And it wasn't the first time technology had buckled under an unknown force.
When explorers stumbled upon a previously undiscovered continent, they faced a similar issue; unable to set foot on its shores, as if some unseen power repelled them.
Unlike the Shroud, though, Ashen had a strong suspicion that the Seravellian dwellers were responsible for that particular anomaly.
Even now, he wasn't entirely sure why they insisted on keeping themselves hidden from Esperra.
Then, his thoughts drifted back to Cornelia's remark about recruits not exactly being the most upstanding individuals. After hearing the seemingly honest Braun's past, that statement felt a lot more believable.
'Guess I should start being more cautious around my fellow trainees from Esperra…'
That said, there was one thing he refused to believe.
Seraphine…
There was no way she belonged in the same category as the rest of them. If she were here, it wasn't because she was some lowlife recruit.
No, someone must have dragged her into this. And he had a gut feeling that whoever it was… had a personal grudge against her.
Ashen took a deep breath and called up his status window.
'All this can wait. I should do what must be done before I get interrupted again…'
==============================
[4. Abilities]
1. Innate Powers:
— Weaver's Eyes
— Equivalent Exchange (1)
==============================
'It's actually listed under my innate powers…'
It made sense. If the ability traveled back in time with him, it had to be tied to his soul.
'Here goes nothing…'
He whispered the command… and the spell tore free.
A moment of silence. Then motes of light manifested above him, slowly converging into a human silhouette.
Ashen darted a glance at Braun, but there was no reaction.
It seemed he was the only one who could witness this spectacle.
As the light receded, a breathtaking woman emerged, floating inches above his bed.
Ashen had seen beauty before. But this… this was something else.
Her hair cascaded in flowing strands of milky white, her storm-gray eyes seemed to be holding the weight of centuries.
A white dress clung to her like liquid silk, the fabric folding around every curve as if it had been spun from moonlight itself.
It draped just shy of scandalous, hugging the swell of her hips, the inward sigh of her waist, before rising to cradle the soft, full curves of her breasts.
Every inch of her was abundance, a celestial temptation that seemed to pull the world into her orbit.
She moved like a hymn poured into satin… all rolling thunder of hips, the arch of her spine a bridge between sin and sanctuary.
Every curve was a rebellion against the straight lines of the world.
Floating just centimeters above him, she smiled.
"Child," she intoned, her voice rich with an age-old cadence, each syllable weaving through the air like a sacred hymn. "What is it you seek? But heed this; I grant nothing without price."
Ashen felt his bones melt at the angelic sound, his mind momentarily lost in the velvet timbre of her voice.
The woman, unbothered by his silence, merely smiled, her lips curling in quiet amusement.
Thankfully, Ashen managed to drag himself from her ensnaring presence, forcing his mind into full analysis mode.
'Who is this woman? No way she's real… Maybe an illusion from the spell? Wait—the spell!'
Only now did the pieces snap together.
If the soul of the planet had gifted his future self this ability, then this woman had to be—
'Miratheris.'
So much for never meeting her in my lifetime… he thought bitterly, cursing that 'older brother' of his.
Still, now wasn't the time for sarcasm. With effort, he found his voice.
"I want to make the Recall skill innate."
Miratheris regarded him with an unreadable expression, her gaze heavy, as if weighing something unseen.
"Then it shall be so."
She reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek in a slow, deliberate caress before pulling away.
Between her hands, an ethereal blue sphere coalesced. She parted her palms, letting it drop to his chest.
Ashen's body flared with heat, every nerve igniting at once, before the fire died in an instant, replaced by a searing cold.
Something tore free from within him, a small, crimson sphere bursting from his chest.
Miratheris caught it with effortless grace.
"Strive onward, child," she murmured. "For every feat you accomplish, I shall reward thee."
With those parting words, her form shimmered, turning translucent, then vanished entirely.
As if she had never been there at all.
Ashen lay still, dazed. His mind blanked for the first time in months. Then, when it finally rebooted, one lingering thought surfaced.
"…I don't think that caress had anything to do with the exchange."
*