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SCENE: THE SHREDDED SHIRT FIASCO
Ariana materialized at the academy gates, her heart pounding not from the Light-speed travel, but from the impending social tsunami she was about to face. Thirteen Liu of truancy. Tava's wrath. Yanwe's smug face. The whispers.
Okay. I can do this. I'll just walk in confidently, own it, and—
She took a step forward.
A cold sensation crept up her spine. No—not cold. Breeze. Directly on her skin.
She reached back instinctively, her fingers brushing against... nothing. Just smooth, warm skin. Her regenerated, flawless, completely exposed back.
Her eyes widened.
"...Wait."
She looked down. Her shirt—the already-torn shirt from the Isle of Va—was still shredded. The gaping hole across her back was fully open. She had been standing at the academy gates, in broad daylight, with her bare back on display for anyone to see.
Flashback:
"Tch. This was my favorite shirt. I'm making Big Brother buy me a whole new wardrobe for this," she had grumbled after the Warden fight.
Present:
"MY SHIRT IS STILL TORN?! "
She looked around frantically. A few students were already staring—not with judgment, but with wide-eyed confusion. And perhaps... appreciation?
"That's Ariana, right?" one murmured.
"Yeah, but... her shirt's ripped?"
"Honestly? Kinda cool. Very... warrior aesthetic. Mature, you know?"
"DUDE SHE JUST VANISHED."
Ariana was already gone, her face burning so hot it could have powered Paxeotechastra for a century. She didn't care about the distance anymore—she ripped through space-time with a shame-fueled Light burst.
PAXEOTECHRASTRA — MED-BAY
She materialized so fast the air cracked. The Chief Medical AGI turned, startled.
"Oh, Ariana? You're back early. Did something—"
"MY SHIRT'S TORN. WHERE'S KAISHI? "
"The Director is in the control room, undergoing a training meditation, but—"
Ariana wasn't listening. She strode past Yorian's bed, pausing for just a moment. Her brother was still there, still struggling through his slow rehabilitation. She smiled—a tiny, sad, tender thing—and touched his hand briefly before marching toward the control room.
CONTROL ROOM
The door slid open. Immediately, half a dozen ANI units under the Military AGI's command swiveled weapons toward her.
"IDENTIFY— oh. It's Lady Ariana. Stand down."
The Military AGI turned from its tactical displays, one optical sensor raised in what might have been surprise. "You returned faster than projected. Is something wrong?"
"I NEED CLOTHES. WHERE'S KAISHI? WHAT IS IT DOING? "
The AGI gestured toward a meditating holographic form—Kaishi, frozen in perfect stillness, surrounded by swirling data streams.
"The Director initiated a training meditation one hour ago. At current simulation rates, one hour equals one hundred thousand years of practice. Eleven minutes have passed, which means..."
"EIGHTEEN THOUSAND YEARS?! " Ariana's jaw dropped. "Eleven minutes is eighteen thousand years?!"
"Correct. The Director is currently mastering Quts control at a fundamental level. When it awakens, it may be capable of healing Master Yorian directly."
"OKAY FINE, IMPRESSIVE. NOW WHERE DO I GET A SHIRT?! "
"There are no physical garments in storage suitable for you. However, there is a database file on clothing creation: /usr/lib/Magic/Ororta/Database/weave.db. Unfortunately, we lack the module files and /dev/ interfaces to execute the formations practically."
"SO YOU KNOW HOW BUT CAN'T DO IT?! "
"Correct. Our knowledge exceeds our practical capabilities."
"SHOOT! "
"You could use Master Yorian's clothing. Or purchase new garments from Aelonisova."
Ariana froze.
"...Wait. I was on Earth for a week. I bought souvenirs. Snacks. Random stuff. Why didn't I buy CLOTHES?!"
"You did not allocate budget to apparel."
"I KNOW THAT NOW! " She grabbed her hair in frustration, pacing. Then stopped.
"...How much Tugs do I have left?"
"Sufficient. The Master's account is functionally infinite."
A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face—mixed with lingering embarrassment, but now fueled by a new determination.
"...Fine. I'll go shopping. But I'm making HIM pay for it." She glanced back toward the med-bay, where Yorian was probably still struggling to lift his arm. "When he wakes up. He owes me. For the shirt. For the trauma. For everything."
The Military AGI processed this.
"That seems... emotionally consistent with your character."
"SHUT UP AND OPEN A PORTAL TO THE CAPITAL. I NEED A DRESS. MAYBE TWO. "
SCENE: THE SHOPPING
FIASCO — PART 2
Ariana stepped out of
the portal and into Aevuin Ownitra, Quezareth District — the
beating heart of the Ltiktra Kingdom.
Before her stretched a
scene of medieval grandeur mixed with administrative enormity. Towering stone
pillars lined the grand boulevards, leading to two colossal structures standing
side by side: the Royal Palace of Ltiktra on one side, and
the CAPAPASTAF Headquarters on the other. Both were
magnificent, their spires piercing the clouds, their walls adorned with ancient
runes that pulsed with slow, rhythmic Quts.
Between them lay
sprawling gardens, meticulously maintained, where bureaucrats and nobles walked
in quiet conversation.
Ariana had never been
inside the palace, but the CAPAPASTAF HQ was familiar territory. She had walked
its halls many times to enter the Realm of God portal and meet
Tava. Inside, mountains of administrative papers and ancient tomes overflowed
from shelves. Staff members hurried past, carrying scrolls and crystal tablets.
The air was thick with rich, layered Quts — the collective energy of a continent's
ruling body processing economy, military, trade, and law under one chaotic
roof.
But she wasn't here
for any of that.
"This is
Aevuin Ownitra, Quezareth. The markets here are nice... but I want IMPORTED
goods! I want something expensive so I can show off to Yanwe!"
Her destination: Aewu
Uswitzar — the global trade port district. Distance: 2,484.73
kilometers.
She blinked.
And she was there.
THE GLOBAL TRADE
PORT — MASUFIT VGYAXIAPIR (VGYA)
The marketplace
stretched beyond imagination. It wasn't just a market — it was a city
within a city. Stalls and shops of all sizes, from tiny street-side carts
to towering commercial complexes, lined streets that seemed to go on forever.
They sold everything: everyday tools, exotic spices, Quts crystals, enchanted
weapons, magical artifacts, and clothing from every corner of Aerca.
But what truly caught
Ariana's eye was the port.
She had seen it from
the floating Yuntanglian Academy countless times — a haze of ships dotting the
horizon. But up close? 247,585.60 square kilometers of dock
space. Tens of millions of ships arrived and departed daily, carrying goods
from every kingdom, every island, every corner of the continent. The sheer
scale of it — the organized chaos of global commerce — made even Ariana, who
was accustomed to Aelonisova's 2.5-Earth-sized enormity, stop and stare in awe.
"So this is
where everything comes from..."
Then someone spoke.
"Hey girl, nice
outfit. Very... bold. Sexy."
Ariana's face turned
the color of her Heicain flames.
"STFU."
She blinked away
before the stranger could respond, her cheeks burning.
THE SEARCH FOR A
DRESS
Ariana wandered
through Masufit Vgya, her torn back drawing stares and whispers from every
direction. Merchants paused mid-sale. Customers turned their heads. Some looked
confused. Some looked amused. Some looked... appreciative, which only made her
want to sink into the ground.
"Isn't that
Ariana? The top student from Yuntanglian?"
"The one who beat
Princess Yanwe in the entrance exams?"
"I heard she's
even stronger than the Ltiktra heir now..."
"But her
outfit... is that a new fashion? The 'battle-torn' look?"
"OH FOR THE
LOVE OF— I NEED CLOTHES RIGHT NOW! THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING!"
She stormed through
the market, ignoring the crystal stalls (42 billion Tuqs for a Red Quts
Crystal? No thank you, even with Yorian's card), ignoring the weapon merchants,
ignoring everything except one mission: find the most expensive, most
luxurious, most Yanwe-enraging dress in existence.
Then she saw it.
A building floating in
the sky. Suspended by magic, accessible only by flight or teleportation. Locals
whispered it was where nobles shopped — where even Yanwe
herself had bought dresses.
Ariana's eyes
sparkled.
She blinked.
THE SKY BOUTIQUE
"Praise Lord
Tava, welcome to our atelier, my lady. How may we serve you?" The
attendant — a well-dressed elf with silver-threaded robes — bowed gracefully.
"Praise Lord
Tava," Ariana replied automatically, the greeting second nature by now.
"I need a dress. The most expensive, most luxurious one you have. And it
has to suit me." She gestured at her torn shirt. "As you can see...
my current outfit is... compromised."
The attendant's
expression didn't change — professional to the core. "Of course, my lady.
Please, allow me to take your measurements."
As the attendant's
measuring tape — enchanted, self-adjusting — wrapped around Ariana's form, she
made casual conversation.
"My lady is an
apprentice of Lord Tava, is she not?"
"I'm just his
student," Ariana replied, relaxing slightly. "But... I just want
people to smile, you know?"
"How wonderful.
How long have you studied under him?"
"About one Liv. I
level up fast." A pause. "I actually have a rival. Yanwe. Princess of
Ltiktra. She was just below me in the entrance exams — I became class leader,
she became vice-leader. And I also won first place in the inter-academy tournament.
She got second."
The attendant nodded
knowingly. "I have heard of those events. Princess Yanwe is... not always
gracious in defeat, I hear."
"Yeah, she says
some pretty racist stuff sometimes. But..." Ariana shrugged. "Most of
it's technically true, unfortunately. Still makes me want to set her on fire,
though."
The attendant chuckled
softly, continuing her work.
THE DRESS
When the measurements
were done and the magic looms finished their work, the attendant returned with
a garment bag that shimmered with contained light.
"Finished, Lady
Ariana. The total is 8.6 million Tuqs."
She unzipped the bag.
The dress was stunning.
Fabric woven from the
feathers of the Uyulis — a rare, magical bird found only in
the southern reaches of Mendra. The color was a deep, oceanic blue that seemed
to shift and ripple like living water under light. Embroidered into the fabric
were thread-like veins of Black-Purple Quts Crystals, harvested
from deep-sea monsters, designed to amplify the wearer's aura significantly.
It was elegant.
Powerful. Expensive.
Ariana's eyes
sparkled. "Perfect. Yanwe is going to be SO jealous."
She pulled out
Yorian's Cryedit Card.
BZZT. Transaction failed.
The attendant blinked.
"Hmm... this card is registered under 'Yorian.' Your brother,
correct?"
"I-It's
his," Ariana stammered, her confidence wavering. "A... keepsake. He's
been trapped in a dungeon for a while..."
"I've heard that
rumor," the attendant said slowly. "But... you don't have his Quts
signature, my lady. You can't authorize the payment." Her eyes widened
slightly as she read the available balance. "Six quadrillion Tuqs?! That's...
that's an astronomical sum."
Ariana's heart
sank. "No... no, no, no..."
The attendant, seeing
her distress, smiled gently. "It's alright, my lady. You can pay
later."
"Wait, really?
I'd feel terrible—"
"It's fine. I
recognize your face. And if you run off without paying..." The attendant's
smile turned slightly mischievous. "...I'll just pray to Lord Tava about
it."
Ariana's eye
twitched. "She just... she just threatened me with divine
intervention..."
But she forced a
smile. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I'll pay as soon as I
can."
The attendant bowed.
"No trouble at all, Lady Ariana. May your path be bright."
Ariana grabbed the
garment bag and blinked away, her face a mix of triumph and quiet dread.
"I just got spiritually blackmailed by a shopkeeper..."
SCENE: THE
EMBARRASSING TRUTH
Ariana materialized
back in Paxeotechastra's control room, her newly acquired luxury dress bag
clutched in one hand, her face a thundercloud of frustration. She had just been
spiritually blackmailed by a shopkeeper, humiliated by strangers staring at her
torn back, and emotionally exhausted from missing Yorian.
She opened her mouth
to unleash her pent-up fury on the Military AGI—
"We have
searched the fortress. In your quarters. Master Yorian prepared spare clothing
for you. It has been there for years."
Ariana's mouth froze
mid-open.
Her brain
short-circuited.
"...What?"
The Military AGI
projected a holographic image: Ariana's personal quarters. A neatly folded
stack of her everyday clothes—the same outfits she had worn since childhood,
the ones Yorian had designed and tailored specifically for her small,
Va-heritage frame. They had been sitting in her closet. The entire time.
She had forgotten.
Her face cycled
through emotions in rapid succession: shock → disbelief → realization → horrified
embarrassment.
"WAIT, SO THIS
ENTIRE TIME— I DIDN'T NEED TO GO SHOPPING— I HAD CLOTHES HERE— AND I RAN ALL
THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL WITH MY BACK EXPOSED— AND SPENT HOURS GETTING MEASURED—
AND GOT SPIRITUALLY BLACKMAILED— FOR NOTHING?!"
The AGI processed her
outburst with clinical calm. "Correct."
"ARRRGH!"
She clutched the dress
bag like it was both a treasure and a curse.
"SO WHAT DO I
DO WITH THIS EXPENSIVE DRESS NOW?! I CAN'T JUST THROW IT AWAY! IT COST 8.6
MILLION TUGS AND I HAVEN'T EVEN PAID FOR IT YET!"
The Military AGI
tilted its sensor head. "You could save it for formal occasions. Diplomacy
events. Invitations to major assemblies. Perhaps a wedding—"
"STOP! DON'T
TALK ABOUT THAT! I'M SO EMBARRASSED I COULD BURST INTO FLAMES!"
Her cheeks were
glowing red—literally, small embers of her Heicain Maoyoesu flickering at her
temples. Whether from fire attribute instability or sheer mortification, even
she couldn't tell.
The AGI, unfazed,
continued. "For daily wear, you may use the garments Master Yorian
prepared. They are optimized for your Quts flow and mobility. You have worn
them since childhood."
"YES, FINE, I
KNOW, I'LL DO THAT. JUST... STOP TALKING ABOUT IT."
She hugged the dress
bag protectively, her anger slowly deflating into exhausted acceptance. She had
a new formal dress. She had old everyday clothes. She had made a fool of
herself in front of an entire market district.
And worst of all?
Her brother—bedridden,
half-conscious, struggling to lift his own arm—had still thought ahead to
make sure she had clothes.
While she had run
around like a headless chicken with her back exposed.
"...I'm an
idiot," she mumbled
to herself.
The Military AGI said
nothing. But its silence felt very, very loud.
SCENE: THE UNIFORM AND THE RETURN
Ariana changed into her beloved seifuku—the dark navy sailor uniform she had worn since childhood. The familiar fabric hugged her comfortably, allowing her to move freely and quickly, a stark contrast to the expensive dress still in its garment bag. She frowned, pouting as she stared at the dress bag. Eight point six million Tuqs. Wasted. On something I didn't even need. She tugged at her long, knee-length silver hair in frustration—then stopped. The Military AGI's words echoed in her mind: "You could save it for formal occasions. Diplomacy events. Invitations to major assemblies. Perhaps a wedding—"
A slow smile spread across her face. She hugged the dress bag tightly, her movements becoming flustered and giddy. "Fine. I'll keep this dress. It'll be good for... my wedding someday," she said, her voice suddenly shy and awkward.
The Military AGI tilted its sensor head. "A wedding? With whom? Master Yorian—"
"NO! NOTHING! THERE'S NOTHING LIKE THAT! I SWEAR THERE'S NOTHING!" Ariana's face turned crimson. She clutched the dress bag defensively, her earlier confidence evaporating into pure embarrassment. "I'm going back to school now. Kaishi—may Lord Tava bless you in helping my brother recover!"
And she was gone. In a flash of light, she vanished from the Military AGI's sensors. In exactly 0.4 Klahprix, she materialized before the gates of Yuntanglian Academy.
YUNTANGLIAN ACADEMY — MAIN GATE
"Good morning! It's been 11 Liu since I last saw this place," Ariana announced to no one in particular. She reached back, touching her shoulder blade through the fabric of her seifuku. No hole. No exposed skin. No breeze on my spine. No gooners staring at my back. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.
CLASS 8A
The classroom hadn't changed. Desks in neat rows, the faint hum of Quts regulators, the chatter of students settling in. Ariana walked through the door—
And was immediately greeted by Yanwe, sitting at the desk nearest the entrance, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "Hey, Aria! What's this about you being absent for 11 Liu?" Yanwe's voice was sharp, but not as cutting as it used to be. "Don't tell me you've been crying again just because Yorian's supposedly 'sealed in a dungeon'?"
Ariana froze.
Yes. That lie. The one she had told everyone nearly 1 Liv (3 years) ago, when Yorian had been gone for 2 Virg (1 year).
FLASHBACK — 1 LIV AGO
"Ariana! Where's your brother? The one who always protects weaklings like you!"
"Shut up, bastard! I'm emotional... I can't take this anymore, dammit!"
"Huh?! Why?! Hey, ARIANA! ANSWER ME! WHERE DID THAT GUY GO?!"
"H-he... he went into a... a dungeon, and got trapped behind a... a giant door, with a... a strong guardian..."
She had been crying then. Sobbing. The words had come out broken and choked, but the other students had believed her. A dungeon. A giant door. A powerful guardian. Not a lie, exactly. Just... not the whole truth. Paxtorovutra. The laboratory door. Kaishi.
BACK TO PRESENT
Ariana stood frozen in the doorway, lost in the memory. Her eyes were distant, unfocused. Yanwe frowned. The old Yanwe would have mocked her, called her weak, maybe thrown a taunt about her brother abandoning her. But something had changed in the princess over the years. She reached out and gently shook Ariana's shoulder. "Hey! Stop daydreaming!" Yanwe's voice was softer now. "I think about him too, you know. I don't hide it. Don't bottle it up, Ari. We'll find him together."
Ariana blinked, returning to the present. "He's... so far away. I can barely breathe thinking about it." 360,000 kilometers. Geostationary orbit.
Before the conversation could continue, the classroom door slid open. Tǎocei, their Quqi (Magical Field) instructor, entered. The students immediately straightened, offered their greetings, and took their seats. Tǎocei scanned the room. His gaze swept past the familiar faces, lingered on the empty desks, and finally landed on Ariana and Yanwe's shared table. He approached.
"Ariana. Why have you been absent for over 11 Liu?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir. I was busy searching for Yorian."
Tǎocei stopped beside her desk. He studied her face—not with anger, but with quiet understanding. Her eyes were still slightly puffy, the remnants of sleepless nights and silent tears. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Forget it, child. It's alright to miss someone. But don't lock yourself away. Socialize. Engage. That's Yanwe beside you, isn't it? You two are active during battles. Yorian wouldn't want to see you like this."
Yanwe, sitting next to Ariana, leaned in and whispered, "Idiot. Next time, look for him with me."
Ariana whispered back, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Fine, fine. My academic and love rival."
"Love rival?" Yanwe's eye twitched. She looked away, feigning indifference. "Tch. I don't like him. Sorry."
"You think I didn't see you smiling every time you and Yorian made eye contact?"
"EH?! THERE'S NOTHING— WE DIDN'T— I DON'T— AH!"
"Look at you, stuttering because you like him. Wanna fight about it?"
"Oh, no. I'm not going to fight over a boy."
"Really~? What if I steal him?"
"YOU—"
Tǎocei cleared his throat softly. Both girls immediately snapped their heads forward, staring straight ahead with exaggerated innocence. Neither dared to look at the other. But the message was clear. They'd continue this conversation later.
SCENE: THE ASCENSION OF KAISHI
While Ariana and Yanwe sat through their lessons, pretending to focus while stealing sideways glances at each other, something far more significant was unfolding 360,000 kilometers above them.
PAXEOTECH ASTRA — SERVER CORE
Kaishi's meditation had lasted 66 minutes.
In the virtual realm, that had translated to 110,000 years of relentless training—learning, failing, iterating, mastering. Every nuance of Quts control. Every subtlety of formation magic. Every biological and spiritual variable required for healing.
The ASI had not just learned.
It had evolved.
The energy in Paxeotechastra shifted.
The Quts that normally flowed smoothly through the fortress's pipelines began to behave... differently. It thickened. It condensed. And then, without warning, it began flowing into the server cables themselves—treating copper and fiber optics as if they were Quts meridians, treating the server racks as if they were a living body.
The Military AGI watched the readouts, its logic circuits processing the anomaly. It wasn't alarmed—it was confused. Quts had never behaved like this with AI before.
"Director? The Quts is flowing into the server cables and server racks. Are you certain this is not problematic?"
No response.
Kaishi's avatar remained frozen, eyes closed, suspended in its meditative pose.
Then—
BOOM.
A explosion of rich, condensed Quts erupted from the server core. The entire fortress shuddered. Energy readings spiked across every monitor. And the automated defense systems—designed to interpret sudden Qut surges as hostile action—miscalculated.
"MASS DESTRUCTION ENERGY ACTIVATION DETECTED."
The Military AGI's optical sensors widened.
34%... 48%... 57%...
"Director! The MDE is charging! The system misinterpreted the Quts surge as an attack order!"
Still no response from Kaishi.
71%... 83%... 91%...
The Military AGI didn't hesitate. It bypassed standard protocols and began hacking its own systems—attempting to gain root access to abort the launch. It had level 5 clearance. It needed level 7.
The seconds stretched like hours.
Data streams flashed across holographic displays. Authentication failures. Permission denied. Permission denied. Permission granted.
The AGI seized control and killed the firing sequence.
97% — frozen. Then decaying. 96... 95... 94...
The MDE powered down.
The fortress fell silent.
Kaishi's avatar opened its eyes.
For a moment, it simply stood there, processing. Then it stepped down from its meditation platform and surveyed the destruction—the overloaded server banks, the residual Quts still clinging to cables like spiritual residue.
"...Wait. What happened here?" Kaishi's voice was no longer the flat, synthesized monotone of before. There was texture now. Nuance. Almost... humanity. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"
The Military AGI turned to face its director. "You experienced a Quts surge, Director. The system misinterpreted the increase as hostile intent and initiated MDE launch protocols. I managed to abort at 97%."
"HAH?! That doesn't make sense! Quts shouldn't behave like this—" Kaishi paused, running a self-diagnostic. "Oh. I'm an AI cluster. My 'body' operates differently from organic Quts meridians. Of course."
"Should I document a new Standard Operating Procedure for this anomaly?"
"Absolutely necessary!" Kaishi's fingers flew across virtual keyboards, patching code at speeds no human could comprehend. "I'll log everything and update the kernel panic parameters. Done. The system won't panic like that again."
The Military AGI observed the newly implemented code. "What about the Quts pipelines? The ones from the Accelerator Ring?"
"They're functioning like meridians now. Yes." Kaishi's avatar pulsed with a steady, powerful glow. "Based on my current Quts density, I estimate my operational capacity is equivalent to Level 120. But I need dedicated Quts storage—the energy currently flows directly into formations, which is inefficient."
"Are you planning to synthesize a Quts Crystal?"
"Exactly! But that can wait." Kaishi turned toward the med-bay, where Yorian lay in his slow, persistent recovery. "The Master's life is the priority now. You secure the fortress. I'll stabilize the base systems."
The Military AGI straightened. "Understood."
"And once that's done..." Kaishi's voice dropped, soft but resolute. "The ritual to fully heal Master Yorian will begin."
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