The return to Terra Nova was a blur.
Albert barely remembered activating his ship's autopilot, his body drained, his mind fraying at the edges. The battle against the Architects had pushed him past his limits—far past them. Every muscle screamed in protest, his Aetherion circuits flickering wildly, destabilizing.
By the time he reached EvoTower, his vision was a haze of lights and shadows. He stumbled through the private docking bay, his knees buckling.
Then—soft hands caught him.
"Albert!" Liana's voice was sharp with worry.
She had been waiting.
He tried to speak, but his throat tightened, the weight of exhaustion dragging him down. The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him was her face—etched with concern, her amber eyes glistening in the artificial glow of the tower.
And then, everything faded.
---
When Albert opened his eyes, he was not in EvoTower. Not in his room.
He floated in an endless expanse—a void where time and space unraveled into shifting currents of light. The air shimmered with energy, pulsating in rhythm with his own heartbeat.
And then, he felt it.
A presence.
Ancient. Vast. Watching.
You push yourself too far, little heir.
The voice was neither loud nor soft. It simply existed, resonating in the marrow of his bones.
Albert turned—and before him, suspended in the void, was the Aetherion Blade. The relic pulsed, its obsidian edge wreathed in shifting silver veins of power. And within it—
A figure.
Or rather, the echo of something long past.
A warrior, clad in armor that defied description—woven from the essence of stars, radiating an unfathomable presence. Their features were blurred, indistinct, as if time itself refused to hold their form.
Albert's breath hitched.
"…Who are you?"
The presence seemed amused.
The one who came before. The first to wield the blade. The keeper of its truth.
Albert's gaze sharpened. "Then tell me—what is this blade? Why does it resonate with my bloodline?"
A moment of silence. Then—
Because it was never meant for mortals. The Aetherion Blade was forged in the crucible of dying stars, tempered by the wills of those who defied the cosmos itself. It is not a weapon—it is a covenant. A bridge between what is…and what lies beyond.
Albert's fingers twitched. "…And what exactly lies beyond?"
The figure tilted its head slightly. You are not yet ready for that answer.
Of course. It was never that easy.
Albert exhaled. "Then tell me this—what did I unlock during the fight? My circuits burned, but I felt… something new."
The presence shifted, as if studying him.
You touched the threshold of Overdrive.
Albert frowned. "Overdrive?"
Aetherion is bound by limitations. The body can only channel so much before breaking. But in moments of true peril, when survival demands more than what is possible…
A pause.
You forced reality to comply.
A shiver ran down Albert's spine.
But power demands balance, little heir. And you…
The figure raised a hand. The void trembled.
…have overstepped.
Albert felt it before he saw it—the backlash. His circuits, the very core of his Aetherion cultivation, had splintered. His body was paying the price for pushing beyond what it was ready for.
Pain ignited across his form. His vision blurred, the void twisting—
And the presence faded.
Rest, Albert Faustin. Heed this lesson well. Next time…
A final whisper.
It may cost you more than pain.
---
Albert's eyes snapped open.
Pain lanced through his body. His circuits flared erratically before settling into a dull throb. He was back in his quarters, the dim light of Terra Nova's skyline casting long shadows against the walls.
A soft sigh of relief reached his ears.
Liana.
She sat beside his bed, arms crossed, her brows furrowed. "You're an idiot."
Albert blinked, his throat dry. "Good to see you too."
She didn't smile. "You almost burned yourself out."
He exhaled slowly, his body still aching. "…I know."
Silence stretched between them. Then, softer—"What happened?"
Albert hesitated. The Aetherion Blade. The voice in the void. The warning.
But instead, he only said, "I pushed too far."
Liana studied him for a moment, her gaze searching. Then, with a sigh, she stood. "You need to rest. And next time…"
She leaned down, just enough for him to catch the quiet anger in her voice.
"…Don't shut me out."
Albert met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them.
Then she turned, heading toward the door.
Just before she left, she glanced over her shoulder. "Sleep. You're going to need your strength."
The door slid shut behind her.
Albert stared at the ceiling, exhaustion dragging him down once more.
And in the back of his mind, the words of the Aetherion's keeper echoed.
Next time, it may cost you more than pain.
He clenched his fists.
Next time—he would be ready.