Seated in the confines of his meticulously reconstructed room, Tim's gaze remained fixed upon Aerith as she attempted to heal his injured hand. His augmented vision granted him an unerring view of the arcane energies weaving through the air, desperately seeking purchase upon his damaged flesh. Alas, there was precious little substance left for the spell to anchor itself to.

Tim’s left hand had become victim to the Akkorokaumi, its form marred by an eerie translucence that revealed a skeletal framework intertwined with fading traces of muscle and veins. The flesh had receded in places, granting an unsettling view of the anatomy beneath. The phenomenon was both mesmerizing and unsettling as if reality itself had wavered and allowed a spectral glimpse into the inner workings of his hand.

Curiously, there was an absence of pain, a disturbing void where sensation once resided. The boundary between his corporeal form and the ethereal seemed to blur, leaving Tim both fascinated and perturbed. Yet, his disquiet deepened when he directed his attention to his ring finger, a once-solid digit now marked by patches of near-transparency, revealing glimpses of the bone beneath. It was a disconcerting tableau.

"Thank you," Tim voiced his gratitude, his words sincere yet laden with a hint of uncertainty.

Aerith's response was immediate, her voice reflecting both concern and curiosity, "Do you believe it made any difference?"

Tim's gloved hand flexed thoughtfully as he contemplated her question, his gaze shifting between his altered appendage and the arcane glove that concealed its peculiar state. While bestowing upon him the inadvertent air of an eccentric pop star, the glove held a purpose far more profound than mere fashion. Concealed within its snug embrace was a potent restoration array, a hidden arsenal that held the promise of tempering the relentless degradation that had befallen his hand – perhaps even reversing it.

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"Hard to say for certain at this moment," Tim admitted “But I believe every bit helps. Now, after having some first-hand experience, no pun intended, in what the Akkorokaumi do, I think I understand what is happening.”

Tim took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “So, there is this thing from my world called the law of conservation of matter. It states that things can change from one form to another like a tree turning ash as it burns. But matter itself cannot be created or destroyed. But the world here doesn’t really follow that law. There are many spells that summon materials to this plain. I think that’s why the Akkorokaumi are here: to erase materials summoned to this reality. To restore balance.

“I can slow them down, but I don’t think I can stop them. They would just keep coming back until their job was done. Although, there may be a way to send things back to their native plains…” Tim paused in contemplation.

“Next week,” Tim sighed, “we need to launch our operation on Takakotan. We can’t delay that any longer. But with all the preparations and the new E Box setups, it should be a quick effort. After we get back, I think we will head back to Bonsho. There might be something left. And any more clues would be invaluable. Then maybe we will take a vacation to the elvish lands. Check out those records Hoban keeps talking about.”

Aerith leaned down and kissed Tim’s cheek. “Sounds like we are going to be busy for a while.”

“Yeah,” Tim said with a weak smile. Then he glanced down at the ring on his hand. “But first, I think I need to have a long talk with Form…”