The nexus began to fade, and Kyle felt himself hurtling back to reality. But as his apartment flickered into view, he realized the world would never look the same again. Threads of light danced faintly at the edge of his vision, whispering of unseen truths—and untold dangers.

Kyle stumbled forward as his feet hit the familiar creak of the apartment floor. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the dim, flickering light of the hallway outside his unit. It all felt… surreal. The rough texture of the door beneath his palm grounded him briefly, but as he turned the handle and stepped inside, the world didn’t feel quite right.

The apartment was just as crappy as it had been an hour ago: stained carpet, a peeling ceiling, the faint smell of mildew, and the faint, ever-present hum of a radiator that didn’t work. Yet, something was different. It wasn’t the apartment that had changed—it was him.

Faint, glowing threads crisscrossed the room, faint and pulsating like veins of light. They weren’t obvious at first, but as Kyle focused, they became clearer, sharper. These threads wove through the air and walls like an intricate web, some perfectly taut, others sagging slightly. They weren’t part of the physical structure of the building; they were something deeper, something alive. He remembered the System’s words: “The Lattice of the Unseen.”

Kyle took a step forward, drawn to the threads like they were calling to him. His fingers hovered near one of the glowing lines that passed near the ceiling. As he focused, he felt the energy coursing through it. It wasn’t just light—it was something more, something vital. A soft hum resonated in his chest the closer he got to it.

Then he noticed it: a jagged, dark rupture cutting across one of the threads. It was a gaping, chaotic mess, like a torn wound oozing faint black smoke. The disruption flickered angrily, rippling out across the other threads nearby, sending shockwaves of instability through the web.

“What the hell is that?” Kyle whispered, his breath hitching as he reached for the tear.

The System’s voice echoed faintly in his mind. “Disruption detected. Thread instability identified. Mana flow compromised. Initiating localized repair sequence.”

Kyle instinctively reached out to the damaged thread, his mind flooded with the knowledge imparted by the Aether tutorial. The tear resisted him, its jagged edges writhing like they were alive. As his fingers brushed it, a searing heat coursed up his arm, and a sharp pain stabbed into his skull.

He pulled back, shaking his hand. “Damn it! What am I supposed to do here?”

“Focus,” the System intoned. “Threadweaving required. Stabilize the disruption by aligning the flow of mana. Visualize the connections and repair the rupture.”

Kyle exhaled slowly, forcing himself to concentrate. He knelt closer to the thread, letting his hands hover above it without touching it directly. He could feel the chaos within it now, like a storm raging under the surface. The tear didn’t just look wrong—it felt wrong. It was a wound in something fundamental, something the apartment—and maybe the world—relied on without knowing.

He closed his eyes, drawing on what little control he had over the mana flowing within him. His resonance with the Lattice felt faint, like a weak signal on a dying radio, but he pushed harder, focusing on the patterns around the tear. He imagined the thread as a river, its flow disrupted by a dam. If he could just clear it, smooth the flow, maybe it would—

The thread shifted under his influence, glowing brighter. The jagged edges began to quiver, shrinking slightly as Kyle’s energy stabilized it. Encouraged, he pulled on the threads around the tear, weaving them back together with careful precision. Each motion felt like threading a needle, delicate and exacting. He felt sweat beading on his forehead as he worked.

Suddenly, the tear snapped shut, the black smoke dissipating with a faint hiss. The thread’s light pulsed, glowing steadily again, and the shockwaves in the web began to calm. The threads around the apartment shimmered brighter, their hum softening into a peaceful resonance.

Kyle sat back on the floor, panting. His hands trembled, and his head throbbed like he’d run a marathon. “What the hell was that?” he muttered, staring at the repaired thread.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Local disruption neutralized. Thread resonance restored. User proficiency in Threadweaving: Beginner. Progress noted.”

The System’s voice didn’t sound smug, but Kyle swore he could hear a faint undertone of approval. “So this is my life now, huh? Fixing magical plumbing no one else can see?”

As he looked around the room, he noticed the other threads shifting faintly, their light calming, almost grateful. He frowned. Was he imagining that? Could threads feel?

Before he could spiral into overthinking, a faint crackling noise caught his attention. He turned toward the corner of the room, where another thread pulsed irregularly, a faint black flicker darting through it like a warning.

Kyle groaned, rubbing his temples. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This place is falling apart—literally.”

But as he moved closer, something else caught his eye: the thread wasn’t just damaged. It was changing. The black flickers weren’t random—they were converging, condensing into something solid, something alive.

The air grew colder. Shadows deepened in the corner, and a low growl resonated through the room. Kyle backed up, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Uh… System?” he said, his voice shaking. “What happens when a disruption doesn’t stay a disruption?”

“Hostile entity detected. Initiating combat protocols. Prepare for engagement.”

The corner of the room erupted in darkness as the thread’s corruption took form, coalescing into a shifting, writhing mass. Two glowing eyes snapped open, glaring at Kyle with a predatory hunger.

“Yeah,” Kyle muttered, raising his hands instinctively as a faint glow of Aether energy surrounded them. “Guess I’m doing this now.”

Kyle staggered back, his eyes locked on the shadowy mass in the corner of the room. It writhed and pulsed, growing denser, darker, and more solid with every passing second. The glowing eyes in its center burned like embers, fixed on him with unsettling intensity. The air felt thick, heavy, and the hum of the threads around him turned into a discordant screech. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t supposed to exist here.

“Hostile entity confirmed. Corruption: Class I Aberration. Threat Level: Low.”

“Low?” Kyle snapped, his voice breaking. “It looks like it wants to eat me!”

The shadow mass lunged without warning, a tendril of inky darkness whipping toward him. Kyle dove sideways, crashing into the battered coffee table and sending a stack of takeout containers clattering to the floor. He rolled to his feet, panting, heart hammering in his chest. Instinct screamed at him to run, but something deeper—something new—kept him rooted.

The glowing threads around the room shifted in his vision, their once smooth flow now jagged and erratic, pulsing in rhythm with the shadowy creature. Kyle’s hands trembled as faint wisps of blue energy flickered around them. He didn’t understand it, but he could feel it—the threads weren’t just showing him the damage; they were giving him tools to fight back.

“Okay,” he muttered, forcing himself to steady his breath. “Think, Kyle. You just fixed a thread. Maybe… maybe you can do something else.”

The creature lunged again, its form splitting into several jagged tendrils. This time, Kyle didn’t think. He reacted. His hand shot out, and the flickering blue energy around his fingers surged outward. A translucent barrier of light formed just in time, deflecting the tendrils with a sound like shattering glass. The barrier rippled and collapsed, but it had held long enough to save him.

Kyle stared at his hand, wide-eyed. “Did I just—”

The creature screeched, cutting off his thoughts. It recoiled slightly, then lunged again, more aggressive this time. Kyle scrambled backward, ducking behind the couch, his mind racing. The System’s voice echoed faintly in his head, instructions bleeding through the panic.

“Focus mana into a construct. Visualize. Stabilize. Execute.”

“Construct? What the hell does that even mean?” Kyle growled, but his instincts—newly awakened and strange as they were—took over. He closed his eyes for a split second, imagining the energy in his chest, in his hands, shaping into something useful.

The creature lashed out again, and Kyle felt the threads respond. A glowing tendril of energy shot from his hand, wrapping around the Aberration’s closest limb like a glowing rope. The shadow twisted and writhed, trying to free itself, but Kyle instinctively pulled the tether taut. The energy hummed, crackling as it fought to contain the creature’s chaotic movements.

“Stay still!” Kyle shouted, his voice raw. His mind felt like it was burning, the effort of holding the tether draining his already fragile control. He needed more than this—something stronger, something decisive.

His eyes darted to the threads around the room, and he saw it: a cluster of glowing lines converging near the ceiling, pulsing with energy. They were vibrating in time with the Aberration’s chaotic movements, as if reacting to its presence. If he could redirect that flow…

Kyle released the tether, the glowing rope dissolving into sparks. The creature screeched, surging forward, but Kyle thrust both hands toward the cluster of threads. He didn’t know what he was doing; he just felt it, like instinct had taken over. Energy surged from the threads into his hands, crackling and coalescing into a jagged spike of glowing light.

“Let’s see how you like this,” he growled, hurling the spike with every ounce of strength he had. The projectile streaked through the air, striking the Aberration dead center. The creature screamed, its form exploding into a burst of black smoke that dissipated almost instantly.

Kyle collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. The threads around the room slowly calmed, their glow softening until they pulsed gently once more. The air lightened, and the oppressive cold faded.

“Aberration neutralized. Combat evaluation: Initiate Grade. Efficiency: 34%. Mana reserves depleted. Recovery required.”

Kyle groaned, staring at the ceiling as the System’s voice droned on in his head. “Thirty-four percent? What does that even mean?” He felt like he’d just run a marathon and barely survived.

The glowing threads flickered in his vision, steady now, as if watching him. Kyle sat up slowly, cradling his head in his hands. His mind reeled, replaying the fight over and over.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered.

The System answered immediately. “You have successfully engaged your first hostile disruption. Combat instincts are a natural extension of your Aether alignment. Continued practice will refine these skills and improve efficiency. Next steps: rest and replenish mana.”

Kyle leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The System’s voice, the glowing threads, the Aberration—it all felt too much, too fast. But deep down, in a part of himself he barely understood, he knew this was only the beginning.