Nyx sat trembling, her fingers clawing at the unyielding ground beneath her. The once-vibrant colors of the world had been reduced to smudges of purple streaks and blurred shapes. She blinked, desperate to sharpen her sight, but the swirling patterns in her eyes—alive with glowing magic—offered no clarity. Shadows stretched and bent unnaturally, making the world seem like an unfinished painting.
“Warning: Visual clarity permanently impaired due to system recalibration. Sensory enhancements in progress. Alternate perception pathways initializing.”
The system’s calm voice echoed in her mind, but its reassurance felt hollow. Alternate perception? What did that even mean? Panic surged as she realized the truth: her eyes were not broken but different, something beyond mortal understanding. The swirling designs within her irises flickered faintly, hinting that she could see—not in the way she used to, but in a way she didn’t yet understand.
She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees. The disorientation, the loss, the unbearable silence—it pressed down on her until she could hardly breathe.
The memories came rushing back, vivid and merciless. Flames, golden and alive, devouring the forest. The constellations, Len and the others—her family—frozen in place as their cores dimmed and drifted away. She saw life leave their powerful forms, leaving behind only statues of what they once were.
Her breath hitched as fresh tears welled up and spilled over, streaming down her face. The ache in her chest was unbearable, as though a piece of her soul had been ripped away.
“I couldn’t save them,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I couldn’t do anything.”
The system spoke again, emotionless as ever:
“Recalibration complete. Powers enhanced. Guidance unavailable.”
Nyx let out a bitter laugh, her voice trembling. “Guidance unavailable? Perfect. Just perfect.”
She curled tighter into herself, her silver hair falling over her face in disheveled strands that glimmered faintly under the strange light. The air around her hummed with a faint magical resonance, as if the very land acknowledged her presence. It wasn’t comforting.
The ashes beneath her shifted faintly, crumbling like dried leaves. Everything felt wrong. The air tasted unfamiliar—dry, sharp, and metallic. The silence pressed against her ears, loud in its emptiness. Even the Veil of Stormweaver resting over her shoulders felt heavier than before, its once-comforting hum now a distant echo.
She gripped the fabric, her trembling fingers finding no solace.
Her thoughts turned dark, spiraling into the depths of despair. How was she supposed to keep going? The constellations had been her family, her protectors, her entire world. Without them, she felt hollow, as if the flames had consumed her as well.
A faint flicker of light caught her attention. She opened her eyes again, the distorted vision swirling with movement. The Veil pulsed faintly, its energy responding to her despair. The world around her shifted, the shadows bending as if alive. She wasn’t sure if it was her new sight or the lingering magic of the veil, but she felt… watched.
“Get up,” a voice in her mind whispered—a voice that sounded like Drac’s, gruff but encouraging.
“I can’t,” she murmured, shaking her head. Her tears fell harder. “I can’t do this alone.”
Another voice—Fox’s this time, sly and teasing—spoke from her memories: “You’re tougher than you think, kid.”
Her chest tightened as more voices echoed in her mind, fragments of memories that both comforted and tore at her heart. The constellations believed in her, even now. They had given everything to protect her.
She wiped her face with trembling hands, her breathing uneven. “Crying won’t bring them back,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “They wouldn’t want me to stop.”
But her resolve felt fragile, like a thin sheet of ice over a deep lake.
The system interrupted her thoughts again:
“Alternate perception pathways fully activated. Visual clarity replaced with sensory mapping. Neural integration with environmental magic achieved.”
Nyx blinked as the world shifted around her. The swirls of purple and silver began to take form—not through her eyes but through something deeper. Shapes became clearer, their edges outlined with faint glimmers of magic. The ashes beneath her glowed faintly, and the remnants of the air carried trails of light that she could sense more than see.
Her vision wasn’t gone. It had changed.
She pressed her hands against the ash-covered ground, forcing her trembling arms to push her upright. Her legs wobbled beneath her, shaky and uncertain, every muscle protesting the effort. Slowly, she managed to get partway to her feet, the ground swaying beneath her as she struggled for balance.
But her strength faltered.
Her knees buckled, and she fell back down with a soft cry of frustration, her hands slamming into the dirt. She sat there for a moment, her chest heaving as she fought back tears of helplessness.
“I can’t even stand,” she muttered bitterly, her voice breaking as the realization hit her. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t even stand?”
The world still felt foreign, but she could feel it now—alive, pulsing, waiting for her to move.
The Veil of Stormweaver clung tightly to her shoulders, its faint hum growing stronger. Nyx clenched her fists, determination flickering in her chest.
“I’ll keep going,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, but there was a fragile strength in it. “For them. For everything they gave me.”
Nyx still on the ground, with her legs folded beneath her, fingers brushing over the earth in a futile attempt to steady herself. The ash beneath her felt cool yet suffocating, a stark contrast to the fiery chaos that still played out vividly in her mind. Her breaths came in short, shaky bursts as the weight of everything pressed down on her.
Her voice broke the oppressive silence, trembling with frustration and despair.
“I… I don’t know what to do. System, do you know where I am?”
For a moment, there was no response, just the faint rustle of wind brushing through the distant remains of the forest.
Finally, the detached, familiar tone of the system echoed in her mind:
“Configuring in process. Please hold on.”
Nyx let out a bitter laugh, her hand covering her face as her silver hair fell forward. “Hold? You’re supposed to know everything, aren’t you?”
“Configuration complete. Affirmative.”
Her head snapped up, hope flickering faintly in her chest. “So? Where am I?”
“Unable to determine precise location.”
The hope was snuffed out as quickly as it came. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. “So you don’t know,” she muttered, her fingers digging into the ash-covered ground. “Figures. Of course, you don’t.”
She sat silently for a moment, clenching her jaw, before asking another question.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“What about people? Can you find anyone like me?”
The system processed her words for a moment, its tone calm and clinical.
“Configuring in process… Nearest civilization detected. Approximately 12 kilometers north from the current position.”
Nyx let out a sharp exhale, part relief, part bitterness. “Perfect. Thanks for something, at least.”
She tried to push herself to her feet, but the dizziness struck again, forcing her to collapse back to the ground. Her world swirled in faint purples and silvers, her vision more of a sensation than a tangible reality. Frustration bubbled over.
“System…” Her voice cracked as she pressed her palms into the dirt. “My eyes. Why can’t I see?”
The system’s response came immediately, its clinical detachment cutting deeper than Nyx expected.
“The reason for your visual impairment is due to a decision made during evolution. You sacrificed your eyes in order to evolve faster than the one-week timeline initially required.”
Nyx froze, her body stiffening as the words sank in. Her breath hitched, and her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“I… I what?”
“The decision was made during the initiation process of the evolution sequence. Sacrifices included: vision, magic items, and magic stones. This was deemed necessary for optimal evolution efficiency.”
Her heart raced as the full weight of the revelation pressed down on her. Her fists clenched against the ground as hot tears welled in her useless eyes.
“I didn’t agree to that,” she choked out.
There was no sympathy in the system’s response.
“The sacrifices were assessed and automatically deemed acceptable within the parameters of the evolution process.”
Nyx’s chest tightened. She pressed her fists into the dirt, her voice trembling with a mix of despair and anger. “So, now I have nothing. No vision, no treasures… nothing.”
“Correct,” the system replied. “The sacrificed items and abilities were consumed as temporary energy sources to facilitate your transformation.”
Nyx’s breath came in shallow bursts as her mind reeled. Then a bitter thought crossed her mind, one she couldn’t ignore.
“But… the Storm Weaver Veil. Why do I still have it? Why wasn’t it consumed too?”
The system’s answer was clinical, almost dismissive:
“The Storm Weaver Veil is a unique artifact. Unlike magic stones or temporary energy items, the Veil is designed to evolve and integrate with its user’s form. It has now become a permanent component of your advanced abilities.”
Nyx let out a hollow, humorless laugh. “So, the Veil was too special to sacrifice itself? Lucky me,” she muttered, her voice laced with sarcasm and exhaustion.
She sat silently for a long moment, the system’s words echoing in her mind. Her tears fell freely now, her fingers trembling as they gripped the ash-covered ground.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start.”
The system offered no response this time, its silence heavier than its clinical tone.
Nyx wiped at her face, smearing ash and tears across her cheeks. She pressed her hands against the ground, forcing herself to take deep, steady breaths. Her sight—or what was left of it—flickered with swirling patterns of purple and silver, a stark reminder of her sacrifice.
“This is all I have now,” she murmured, her voice shaking. “Just me… and this stupid system.”
Her trembling fingers gripped the edges of the Veil of Stormweaver draped across her shoulders. Its faint hum resonated through her fingertips, a small spark of comfort in the emptiness around her.
She clenched her jaw and pushed herself upright, swaying slightly as her legs wobbled. Every step felt foreign, the ground beneath her feet shifting unsteadily. But she forced herself to stand.
Taking a shaky breath, she muttered to herself, “I’ll figure this out. One step at a time.”
The system broke its silence, its tone still cold but direct:
“Nearest civilization remains 12 kilometers north. Recommend immediate movement.”
Nyx let out a sharp breath, brushing strands of silver hair out of her face. “Yeah, I get it. Move forward. I’m not going to just sit here forever.”
She turned toward what she hoped was north, the swirling patterns of magic in her sight painting faint outlines of the path ahead. The world still felt foreign, but she wasn’t entirely lost. Not yet.
“I’ll survive,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both despair and determination. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
Nyx took one shaky step, then another, her arms stretched out cautiously in front of her to avoid bumping into anything. The uneven ground beneath her feet made each movement a struggle, but she refused to falter. She might not be able to see, but she wouldn’t let that stop her.
“System,” she asked hesitantly, her voice trembling, “can you do something about my eyes? Since I can’t use them fully right now?”
The system’s response came swiftly:
“Please clarify your request.”
Nyx sighed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I mean, can you fix them?”
“Unfortunately, I cannot.”
Her shoulders slumped, the weight of her situation pressing down on her again. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay calm. “Well, is there anything you can do?” she asked, desperation leaking into her voice.
There was a brief pause before the system answered:
“Yes. I can create a covering over your eyes to prevent unnecessary attention or causing panic when interacting with others.”
Nyx tilted her head, curiosity flickering through the gloom. “Oh? How would you do that?”
“The covering will be created using the Storm Weaver Veil.”
She blinked, the thought intriguing her despite her despair. “Alright… permission granted. Do it.”
“Initiating Darkveil… process beginning.”
A soft, warm sensation brushed against her face, startling her at first. She froze, her breath catching as the veil shifted and moved on its own. Slowly, the fabric wrapped around her eyes, snug but not uncomfortable. The light pressure was both strange and oddly reassuring, like an embrace.
Nyx ran her fingers over the covering, her touch tentative. It felt smooth and light, like a second skin. “That’s… better,” she murmured. Her lips quivered into a faint smile. “At least now I won’t scare anyone.”
She paused, fingers still brushing the veil, as a new thought struck her. “System… What about my other skills? Are they still intact?”
The system’s response carried a faint tone of certainty:
“All previous skills have been successfully combined and enhanced. New abilities are ready for discovery.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Really? That’s… something, at least.” The faintest spark of hope stirred within her. Despite everything she had lost, a part of her power—of herself—remained. She gripped onto that thought, fragile as it was, like a lifeline.
Even as the world around her remained a blur of shapes and indistinct shadows, she clenched her fists, her determination beginning to take root. She might have lost her sight, her family, and her old life, but she wasn’t powerless. She couldn’t be.
Nyx took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her legs wobbled as she tried to take another step, her balance precarious. The ground shifted beneath her feet, uneven and unfamiliar, but she refused to fall again.
Even without clear vision, she focused on the faintest details—the warmth of the earth beneath her, the cool fabric of the veil over her eyes, the subtle hum of magic still lingering in her veins. She whispered to herself, her voice low but firm, “One step at a time.”
Nyx continued her careful steps, her hands brushing against the soft, smooth fabric of the Darkveil covering her eyes. The sensation grounded her, but uncertainty still gnawed at her. “Since I can’t fully use my eyes,” she asked tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper, “could you… tell me where we’re going?”
“Yes, I will,” Uriel responded promptly, its tone as calm and assured as ever.
Nyx hesitated, her foot pausing mid-step. She bit her lip before asking her next question. “Did… everything evolved from within?”
“Yes, that is correct,” Uriel replied, its answer immediate and unwavering.
She tilted her head slightly, curiosity sparking despite the gloom surrounding her. “Really? Even you?”
“Affirmative.”
The answer startled her. Nyx blinked—or at least tried to, though the veil absorbed the motion. “What can you do now that’s different?” she asked, her tone laced with both awe and suspicion.
“Several upgrades have occurred,” Uriel began, its voice steady and precise. “I can now make decisions for you without requiring your permission in dire situations. I can also translate languages into your understanding, combine newly acquired skills for optimal performance, and initiate a Chronoscape at your request.”
“Wait, what’s a Chronoscape?” Nyx interrupted, her voice quickening with excitement.
“It is a magical dimension where you can store belongings, ensuring their safety and accessibility as needed.”
Nyx’s steps quickened, her excitement momentarily pushing aside her uncertainty. “That’s… that’s actually amazing. I’ve always wanted something like that!”
Uriel continued, unfazed by her enthusiasm. “Additionally, I can assess combat situations in real time to determine the most effective skill to use.”
Nyx’s lips curled into a small grin, her first genuine smile since awakening. “You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you? That’s awesome.”
There was a brief pause before Uriel responded, its tone tinged with a hint of—was it pride? “Indeed. I am now unique among my kind. My intelligence and functionality have reached unparalleled levels.”
Nyx raised an eyebrow beneath the veil, her playful tone returning. “Wow, someone’s feeling confident.”
“I am aware,” Uriel replied, its tone flat but unapologetic.
Nyx couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound soft but genuine. “Anything else I should know? Or are you saving the rest for later?”
“Yes. Since I have evolved, I am no longer referred to as ‘system.’”
That gave her pause. She stopped mid-step, tilting her head again as if trying to get a better read on her enigmatic companion. “No longer ‘system’? Then… what should I call you?”
“Uriel,” it answered simply, the word resonating with steady assurance.
Nyx let the name settle in her mind, testing it aloud. “Uriel… I like it. It suits you.”
“Your approval is appreciated,” Uriel replied. “Now, let us focus on the path ahead. The nearest civilization lies approximately 12 kilometers north of this location.”
Nyx took a deep breath, the nervous energy in her chest replaced by a faint flicker of determination. “Alright, Uriel. North it is.” Her voice carried a note of resolve as she adjusted her posture, ready to face the unknown.
As she took another step, the ground beneath her felt just a little steadier, her heart just a little lighter. Though she was blind to the world around her, Nyx had gained something invaluable: a guide, a partner, and perhaps, in some strange way, a friend.