Ten minutes later, Ray was feeling human again.

  The Crimson Weaver’s ‘Neural Gastronomy’ skill was working its magic, clearing the mental fog and restoring his focus. He watched the creature, which was currently investigating a potted plant by dissolving into the pot and popping out of the soil.

  “Time for an interview,”

  Ray decided.

  He wiped his mouth and focused.

  He activated the Primal Naturalist’s ‘Beast Speak’ skill.

  The world shifted. Ray didn't hear words. Instead, his mind opened to the intuitive language of the animal kingdom, posture, scent, intent, and projected imagery.

  Immediately, the Primal Naturalist burst into the forefront of his mind, practically bouncing with excitement.

  Naturalist: “Here we go mate! Will you look at that little ripper! He’s a bit of a mystery wrapped in a shadow, isn’t he? An absolutely gorgeous specimen!”

  Ray prepared to project a question, but the Archetype cut him off.

  Naturalist: “Whoa there, mate! Hold your horses! You can’t just barge in with the interrogation lamp. He’s skittish as a long-tailed feline in a room full of furnitures. You gotta show some respect! You gotta come at him sideways. Project ‘Safety’ first, then ‘Curiosity.’ Low and slow, yeah? Let him know you’re not looking for a fight, just a yarn.”

  Ray took a breath, adjusting his mental posture. He suppressed the urge to demand answers and instead softened his mental projection, wrapping his question in feelings of warmth and safety.

  He looked at the creature.

  “Where do you come from?”

  Ray asked, projecting the concept of Origin / Home.

  The creature stopped playing. It turned its Golden Eyes to Ray.

  A series of images flashed into Ray’s mind, sharp and vivid.

  Image 1: The Deep. Cold. Crushing weight. The smell of rot and ozone. Endless tunnels of stone saturated with corrupted, violet mana. Ray recognized the image immediately, the Sunken Vaults beneath the academy. The creature was small, hiding in the cracks, terrified of the larger, corrupted beasts roaming the dark.

  Image 2: The Vent. The rumble of the containment ward. The valve in the ward opening. The rush of pure aether from it.

  Image 3: The Purification. A blinding explosion of golden light. Pure Aether flooding the tunnels. The corrupted creatures screaming and burning away. But the shadow… the shadow didn't burn. It was "scrubbed." The violet taint was incinerated, leaving a core of pure, sterile void.

  Image 4: The Sanctuary. Seeking warmth. The creature attracted to the aether on the other side of the containment ward, tiny and terrified, squeezing through the closing valve of the ward, following the scent of the golden light into the Genesis Chamber just before the seals locked.

  Ray blinked, processing the data.

  Naturalist: “Well, I’ll be… This little bugger is a survivor! A ‘purified corrupted creature.’ He was born in the muck, but the Purifying Aether blast scrubbed him clean. He’s an elemental paradox, mate, a shadow that’s addicted to the light. No wonder he likes you; you’re a walking heat lamp!”

  “What can you do?”

  Ray asked, projecting Capability / Action.

  The creature looked at a ceramic mug on the table. It walked forward, and instead of hitting the ceramic, it dissolved into smoke, flowed through the solid object, and reformed on the other side without disturbing the tea inside.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  It was the ultimate scout. Unstoppable entry, absolute stealth.

  With the dinner plates cleared and the interrogation finished, the atmosphere in the suite shifted from tense mystery to a strange kind of domestic normalcy.

  Ray moved to the living room sofa, watching the creature, an elemental paradox capable of walking through walls, as it batted at a dust mote that only Rina seemed able to see. It was absurd. He had just engaged in a high-stakes magical engineering project, negotiated with a corrupted ecosystem, and now he was watching a void-creature play like a kitten.

  “What shall we call it?”

  Ray said, leaning back in his chair.

  Rina, who was clearing the plates, smiled.

  “It does need a name, Young master.”

  Ray rubbed his chin, looking at the creature. He felt the urge to give it a handle that sounded impressive.

  “How about… Catzilla?”

  Ray suggested, testing the weight of the word.

  “Or Ninja Mittens?”

  The creature stopped grooming its tail. It looked at Ray, hissed softly, and deliberately turned its back on him to face the wall.

  Scholar: “Please stop. You are embarrassing us. 'Catzilla,' 'Ninja Mitten'? Really? I am revoking your naming privileges.”

  Veteran: “Target is unimpressed. Abort strategy.”

  “Tough crowd,”

  Ray muttered. He tried again, aiming for something edgier.

  “Night Puff? Spook?”

  The creature turned its head and stared at him with flat, unimpressed golden eyes. It projected a feeling of profound disappointment, as if wondering how a being with so much Aether could have so little taste.

  Rina giggles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her amusement.

  “Young master, your naming sense is… truly unique. Perhaps we should let the creature decide?”

  “I’m trying here,”

  Ray defended, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. He thought some more and thought of something rugged.

  “Obsidian? Midnight?”

  The creature yawned, stretching its jaw wide, visibly bored by the clichés.

  Ray sighed. He looked at the creature, a being of pure darkness that had chosen to live in the light. He thought back to his past life, to a role he had played as a brooding sorcerer where he had to learn Latin incantations to sound authentic. He remembered the script, the feeling of the words rolling off his tongue.

  Night.

  “Nox,”

  Ray said.

  The creature froze mid-yawn. Its ears twitched.

  It looked at Ray. The sound was sharp, short, and authoritative. It didn't sound like a pet name; it sounded like a title.

  The creature blinked slowly. It walked over to Ray and bumped its head against his knee. It projected a feeling of Approval / Identity.

  [SYSTEM UPDATE]

  [Subject Name: Nox]

  “Nox it is,”

  Ray grinned, reaching down to scratch the creature behind the ears. The fur felt like cold velvet.

  “Welcome to the family, Nox.”

  The next morning, after eating his breakfast, Ray left the suite with Captain Svane.

  He left Nox with Rina, the creature seemed to prefer sleeping in her shadow during the day, likely because it was quieter. He arrived at the Genesis Crystal Chamber.

  He hadn't told Headmaster Andrade that he was finished with the work. As far as the headmaster is concerned, he was still working on the 'fix,' buying himself precious time.

  The Genesis Crystal Chamber was humming. The low, steady thrum of the Facade Protocol Array filled the air, sounding exactly like a boring, safe, high-capacity mana battery. The bio-luminescent forest glowed softly, undisturbed.

  Ray walked up to the barrier and placed his hand on the runic shell.

  “System,”

  Ray commanded.

  “Run simulation. Scenario: 7th Circle Wizard Scan. Target: Facade Protocol integrity.”

  A blue grid swept over the massive crystal, calculating angles, refraction indices, and mana signatures.

  [RUNNING SIMULATION...]

  [DETECTION PROBABILITY: < 2.8%.]

  [RESULT: MASK IS SOLID.]

  Ray exhaled, feeling a surge of confidence. The lie was almost perfect. The Auditor would see exactly what Ray wanted him to see. All that is left is selling it.

  Now, it was time to reap the reward.

  He walked to the center of the chamber, the spot where he had stood during his Reforging. He sat down in the lotus position on the mossy stone floor, surrounded by the silver ferns.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled.

  Ray started to cultivate using the ‘Ashvane Method.’

  “Open the floodgates.”

  Ray whispered.

  Before, cultivating in his dorm room felt like standing under a low-pressure shower head, trying to catch droplets of mana in a cup. It was slow, tedious, and limited by the ambient density of the air.

  Now… It felt like standing under a waterfall.

  The sheer density of the Aether in the chamber was overwhelming.

  It slammed into him.

  [MANA RECOVERY: 10% per second.]

  [CORE SATURATION: MAXIMIZED.]

  Ray felt his core vibrating violently. He wasn't just refilling his tank; he was stretching it. The "bottleneck" that had forced him to take on this dangerous job, the limit of his Life-Force Capacity, began to crack under the pressure.

  The Aether rushed through his meridians, scouring away the impurities, expanding the channels, and forcing his body to adapt to the higher power level.

  [ALERT: LIFE-FORCE CAPACITY INCREASING.]

  [+1... +1... +1...]

  Ray smiled, his face bathed in the golden light of the Sunstone. The power rushed through him, washing away the fatigue, the doubt, and the fear.

  He sat there, a speck of dust in the eye of a god, drinking from the firehose of the universe.

  He wasn't just ready for the Auditor. He was waiting for him.