Chapter 2: The Girl of the Veil
The light had faded, but its echo lingered — faint sparks dancing through the misty air like memories that refused to disappear.
Rimuru stood before the girl, raincoat flapping in the rising wind. The world around them had gone eerily still. Even the usual city noise — car horns, voices, the hum of life — had fallen silent, like the world was watching.
The girl trembled, clutching her chest. Her eyes glowed faintly, the colors swirling like a storm trapped inside them.
"Easy," Rimuru said softly, raising her hands in peace. "You're okay. Well… mostly okay. Fifty-fifty chance you just caused a small emotional apocalypse."
The girl blinked, her lips parting. "Who… who are you?"
Rimuru smiled, the kind that could mean everything or nothing at all.
"Someone who really hates when reality gets dramatic before lunch."
The girl stared blankly, and Rimuru sighed.
"Right. I'm Rimuru. Local tech witch, part-time therapist for malfunctioning emotions. You are?"
The girl hesitated. "Aira."
Her voice was soft, like she was afraid of breaking something invisible.
"Well, Aira, congratulations," Rimuru said, stepping closer. "You just opened a door you weren't supposed to."
Before Aira could answer, a faint distortion shimmered above the street — a ripple, like heat haze. Then, from it, shadows began to crawl out. They weren't solid, more like fragments of people's fears, flickering and twisting into shape.
Aira gasped. "What are those?"
Rimuru's tone stayed light, but her eyes sharpened, glowing faintly blue-red under the colored rain.
"Emotion fragments. When The Veil weakens, people's buried feelings leak out. Usually guilt, anger, regret… fun stuff."
The first fragment lunged — a shape with too many eyes and no mouth — and Rimuru didn't even flinch. She flicked her wrist, and a ripple of light shot out, slicing it apart like glass under pressure. The others froze mid-lunge, sensing something dangerous.
"Lesson one," Rimuru said, cracking her neck. "If it doesn't laugh back, it's probably not friendly."
The fragments screamed, and suddenly, the air was alive with motion.
Aira stumbled backward, eyes wide as Rimuru danced between the creatures — elegant, fast, her smile never fading even as her surroundings warped.
Every motion of her hand painted the air with blue and silver light, each flicker a new power born from thought alone.
When the last fragment shattered, silence returned. The rain slowed, glowing droplets turning into soft sparks that floated away into the night.
Rimuru exhaled, turning back to Aira with her usual lazy grin.
"See? Nothing to worry about. Just your average magical meltdown."
Aira looked at her — really looked — and for a moment, her fear gave way to something else. Curiosity.
"You're… not human, are you?"
Rimuru chuckled. "Define 'human.'"
---
That night, as Rimuru led Aira back to her shop, the city lights seemed dimmer — and the air heavier. Somewhere in the distance, unseen by either of them, a voice whispered through The Veil:
> "The catalyst has awakened… and so has she."
Rimuru stopped walking for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she smiled again — softer this time, almost tired.
> "Laugh first, question later," she whispered to herself.
"Guess tomorrow's going to be interesting."