OLD-WORLD EXTRA

474  World Returning To Form

Just a few feet away from the Metalzilla's collapsed arms, lay the severed head of a student.

The creature must have killed her when it fell, slicing through her neck with one of its claws.

It was a horrifying sight, no doubt, but that wasn't what made his chest tighten, what made his breath quicken.

He didn't care whether she had lived or died.

That wasn't the point, not one bit.

A professor had been saved, and that was enough.

His position in the Academy was cemented.

What mattered was her face.

...It was familiar.

Emir rarely remembered names, let alone faces.

He didn't need to.

But this time, he forced himself to look, to acknowledge the girl as a person—to put a name to the life he'd let slip away.

The reason for that was simple.

He needed to report her death.

And what he saw struck him cold.

Her head was small, delicate, with childish features frozen in terror.

But that wasn't what disturbed him, twisting his insides like his ability did the Tyrant.

No, it was something far worse.

The girl's face was almost a perfect match for Faye's.

"...Huh."

Emir stood there, staring.

The resemblance was uncanny—down to the curve of her jaw, the shape of her lips, even the wide, fearful eyes that were now dull.

For a moment, it felt as if time had stopped, the world shrinking around him as all he could see was that face.

Faye's face.

Her laughter, her voice, her smile—all of it flashed in his mind, blending with the expression of the dead girl in front of him.

Emir knew that it wasn't her.

It couldn't be.

Faye was home, likely playing with his mother and sister.

There was just no way.

But the image lingered, burning into his memory.

'...Her sister?'

His hand clenched involuntarily, Aether sparking to life around him.

There was no room for this kind of weakness, no room for doubt or hesitation. Emir had a task to complete.

He was an Ethereal Threader, a puppeteer in control of his every thought and action.

Yet here he stood, shaken by the face of a dead girl who wasn't supposed to matter.

But she did.

He wasn't even sure why.

Perhaps he had taken a liking to Faye more than he would like to acknowledge.

But was that even possible?

He didn't know.

Neither did he know how long he stood there, staring at the girl's head.

His mind simply refused to process the love he felt for someone who wasn't a blood relative.

It was as if his brain was going to war against itself, the rational side versus the much smaller emotional one. Whoosh... whoosh... whoosh...

But that war was shattered when, out of nowhere, he heard the whistling of bullets heading towards him.

'Aetheric Shield.'

Reacting in nearly an instant, he conjured his shield before the bangs! could even resound and was hit with incredible force.

It cracked but didn't break, and he was sent back, stumbling.

In the next second, multiple assailants rushed him, attacking him from each direction.

One swung his long sword, another bashed him with a shield, and the last stabbed with his spear.

Their attacks were coordinated, aiming to overwhelm him in one swift strike.

Emir watched them approach in slow motion, as he had activated Templar Perception the moment he heard the gunshots.

He could've defended himself and stuck back, killing at least one in the time their attacks reached him, but he focused on his Aetheric Shield instead, intending to use their attacks in his favor. Dodging the spear, he closed onto the shield, directly taking the hit.

He deliberately bounced off it and was thrown to the ground, evading the sword slash as his Aetheric Shield slammed hard against the cold concrete.

Crack!

Smiling wildly, he pushed himself upright, standing fully straight before the rubble caused by his impact could even reach its highest.

Without pause, he reached out to the now floating rubble, and his surroundings transformed into a shimmering haze of Aether.

Using both his Weaver's Veil and Aerlalis Aspect, he strengthened himself to the max, pushing his explosive power to the limit.

Then, each fragment of rubble trembled in the air as he infused them with Aether, transforming them into Celestial killing weapons.

The shards glowed intensely, vibrating as if barely able to contain the Aether within.

Time seemed to slow even further as his assailants began to realize what was happening, but it was already too late.

Emir began to punch away, unleashing his makeshift gattling gun.

They shot outward in all directions, each shard moving with the speed and precision of a bullet.

In the next slow-moving moment, he saw the expressions of shock and fear on his attackers' faces as the projectiles tore through their heads, cutting through flesh and bone. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Blood sprayed in the air, and the attackers, finally caught to speed, were thrown back, their bodies falling to the ground in an incredible display of carnage.

One by one, they died, their lives snuffed out in an instant by the very rubble they had helped create.

When the last of them had fallen a full second later, Emir relaxed his arms and undid his Aspects, giving his core a breather. 'Now, who were my little assassins? They even knew about Faye.'

Looking around at the scene of destruction he had wrought, he attempted to identify his "little assassins."

They had no identifiable features he could pick up, just the standard E10 augmented suit in its default state—sleek, nondescript, and completely void of any personal customization.

Yet it didn't take him long to figure out that they were from the Liberation Army.

While they didn't adorn their insignia, the "brothers" hairstyles were matching.

An undercut, long on the top but shaved at the back and sides. No one but the Liberation Army would settle for such a shit-looking haircut.

But it wasn't just the hair.

The augmented suits they wore were another giveaway.

The E10 model wasn't something just anyone could afford, even if the Elite made it seem incredibly common.

Each one cost a billion UC—a price way out of reach for the average hunter group.

Owning even one would be a stretch, let alone ten.

Emir had no doubt about it.

These men belonged to the Liberation Army.

Besides, he hadn't exactly maintained the best relationship with one of their leaders either.

In fact, he was willing to bet that these were the leftovers Aquila had mentioned in his report.

They were out for revenge.

Chuckling, Emir took one last glance at them. "Too bad they picked the wrong target."

There was no denying it, Faye had become an important someone in his life.

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He only realized that now but this wasn't the time for that. He looked appreciative almost. "Hm... And good job on helping me cut loose ends I guess."

Apparently, he was. "I'll mention you to your leader, don't worry."

With those words, his gaze drifted back to the decapitated head of the student or rather, the outside girl they brought in from who knows where.

The feelings it gave him still sent a shiver down his spine, but he forced himself to keep that at bay. There was no denying it, Faye had become an important someone in his life.

He only realized that now but this wasn't the time for that. The Major Disaster took precedence.

Emir checked the life status of the hunter group leaders.

It looked utterly chaotic, heart rates were spiked, oxygen levels had dropped, disjointed commands were issued, signals moved randomly, nothing was in sync, and most importantly...

One signal was missing entirely. An HG leader had died. 'Ah, man. Things always gotta go wrong.'

Emir smiled.

He knew that anything that could go wrong would go wrong, no matter how much he prepared.

It was natural.

'But I ain't complaining... It's what makes it so fun.'

Though he was enjoying the danger, he really needed to move before it was too late. The world was returning to form, following an unspoken rule.

Ten Ancient Clans, likely ten Mega Corporations, ten Leaders of the Order, ten Primordials, ten systems in control of humans on the Local Group, Big Ten, and now…

Ten Hunter Groups.

And he didn't know if it was going to stop at that. Glancing at the wall to his right he pointed at the professor and then began to move.

There would be time to deal with the consequence of that later—if there ever was time at all.

For now, all that mattered was the plan.

Lyra's disappearance, behind-the-scenes politics, the Praying Lady, the dead student, none of that mattered at that moment.

The plan had to succeed...

Otherwise, their entire future was in jeopardy.