The whip in Silvie’s hand flickered once—then dissolved into green motes, dissipating like dew under the rising sun. Her gaze never left him.

  Not because she was ready to fight.

  But because something in his expression unraveled her.

  “…You’re really crying?” she asked, voice softer now. “Over that?”

  Kei nodded once, blinking as if embarrassed, then turned his head away. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, a breath catching in his throat.

  Silvie dropped into a crouch across from him, chin resting on her knees, watching him in silence.

  “No one’s ever told you that before?” she asked, her tone a quiet blend of curiosity and gentleness.

  He chuckled, low and dry. “Not in a way that stuck.”

  They sat like that for a moment—no lightning, no wind, no vines. No radiant forces clawing for dominance. Just stillness. Breath and silence.

  “…Sorry for threatening to kill your monkey,” she mumbled.

  Kei snorted. “I’ve been threatened worse by squirrels.”

  Another beat of quiet passed between them.

  Then she tilted her head. “So? Are you gonna accept your title?”

  Kei glanced again at his status screen. The prompt still lingered, like a whisper that had been patiently waiting at the edge of his awareness.

  [Hidden Title Available]

  [Accept? Y/N]

  “…Why now?” he asked aloud. “Why does it feel like I’ve only just started to understand any of this?”

  Silvie leaned forward, her eyes steady. “Because you’re finally asking the right questions.”

  A gust of wind passed through the clearing—not disruptive, not harsh. It circled around him slowly, gently, as though recognizing something long awaited. As though the world itself had been holding its breath.

  He exhaled.

  [Y]

  The system pulsed once. No fanfare. No blinding light. Just a ripple—deep and quiet—that stirred the air. A still nod from the world.

  He held up the screen for her to see.

  [Title Accepted: God Spark]

  [Warning: Title effects cannot be reversed once activated.]

  [Unique Trait Unlocked — Core Resonance: All minor and major forces drawn to you will now retain imprint traces, increasing compatibility and fusion potential over time.]

  Silvie blinked at the air, eyes flicking as she read the same notification hovering before her.

  Then the sky shifted.

  A massive gale spiraled around the two—violent in scale but controlled in motion. Cyan and turquoise-blue threads of aether came rushing toward Kei, howling in sheer elation. The wind screamed, the aether pulsed. It wasn’t just reacting to him. It was celebrating him.

  The God Spark of Wind had finally donned his crown.

  “…Okay,” Silvie muttered, jaw slack. “That’s not fair.”

  Kei blinked, puzzled.

  “I thought you were the God Spark of Lightning,” she said, pouting as her hair was tousled by the roaring aether.

  “You said I was lightning,” Kei pointed out.

  “I said you seemed like lightning,” she corrected, squinting at the wild winds circling him. “But now? I think you’re a black hole.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Because the aether isn’t reacting like it’s found its master,” she continued, voice small against the storm. “It’s reacting like it’s found home.”

  Kei didn’t reply. But a faint smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

  “Quick question—why does your status screen say you’re still Level 0?”

  “You’re hoarding, aren’t you?” Silvie asked after a second, her eyes narrowing. “All that experience. You haven’t claimed a single drop since this all started.”

  “I’m in no rush to level up,” he said simply. “Besides, I can still train and improve without leveling.”

  “That’s... a possible path?” Silvie blinked. “Wait, really?”

  “You’ve been training your whole life, haven’t you?” Kei asked, raising a brow. “Didn’t you notice you got stronger the more you trained?”

  “Well sure, by Earth’s standards,” she admitted. “But once aether got involved, I just leveled up. That’s how it’s typically expected to go.”

  He looked at her in silence, returning to the food he was cooking, his expression unreadable beneath his calm.

  He didn’t answer—just waited.

  “Each expanse is a trial—a crucible. And the Apex Bosses are the flames we’re thrown into. How we handle them? That’s what the multiverse is watching.”

  He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

  “The rankings matter,” she continued. “A lot. Most worlds can’t even challenge one Apex, let alone defeat one. But Earth? One dead, one defeated... and now challenging another? That’s not normal.”

  Kei didn’t speak.

  But he was definitely listening.

  “One of the benefits of getting a good ranking is the quality of aether your world starts receiving. There are tiers, you know. The quality is determined by how pure the aether is—like comparing bodies of water. Some are murky and impossible to see through, while others are crystal clear, clean as can be.

  The rankings of purity go like this: Common, Refined, Resonant, Purified, Divine, and Origin Aether—and most worlds never get past the first two. The better we perform during our trial, the purer the aether our world is granted going forward. It’s like feeding a newborn star—what we do now shapes everything that comes after.”

  She paused, then added, “And it goes without saying, but the higher the rank of aether used, the more powerful our attacks become, the easier it is to train and understand our forces. Higher-ranked aether lets you progress faster without burning out or hitting walls—and the purer the aether flowing through Earth, the more powerful treasures will start being born here.”

  “And what about Pristine Aether?” Kei asked.

  “Ooooh, that’s a whole other tier,” Silvie said, her eyes lighting up. “That’s even above Origin Aether. Pristine Aether isn’t just pure—it’s creation-level. It doesn’t exist in nature. You can’t find it. You can’t absorb it. You’re either born with it… or you’re not.”

  She gave a theatrical huff and puffed out her chest with a smug little grin.

  “Like me, obviously.”

  Kei didn’t say anything. He just reached into his inventory and casually tossed her the Gale Fang.

  She caught it one-handed, curious. Then she looked at the system info.

  [Crafted with: Pristine Aether]

  Her grin flattened into a blank stare.

  “…You asked because you have it too, didn’t you?”

  Kei shrugged slightly, offering no explanation.

  Silvie muttered under her breath, still turning the weapon over in her hands. “Pristine Aether… not even all God Sparks are born with it. It’s that rare. And the ones who are? They're on a different level entirely. They don’t just use aether—they shape it. Like, the rules bend a little just to keep up with them.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  She looked back up at him, a little more serious now.

  “Those of us born with Pristine Aether usually come with something else, too—traits or bodies the system can’t fully register. It doesn’t know how to define us. Not completely. We're built different.”

  Kei sat in silence.

  “There aren’t many of us,” she added. “God Sparks are already rare, but God Sparks with Pristine Aether?”

  She held up two fingers. “Single digits. Across all known iterations. And every one of them changed the fate of their world.”

  Then she lowered her hand and stared at him a little longer.

  “…So if you’re one of them too?” She gave a small, crooked smile. “Looks like I’ve got some serious competition.”

  Kei gave her a neutral look. “What are the chances someone’s born with Pristine Aether… without being a God Spark?”

  Silvie tilted her head slightly. “Basically zero. Less than zero, if that makes sense. Across all known iterations of existence, there’ve been maybe five non–God Sparks ever born with Pristine Aether.”

  Her fingers curled tighter around the wooden weapon, the weight of what she was saying anchoring her usual energy.

  “And those five?” she continued, voice quieter now. “They were monsters—even by our standards. People who could shift the future of an iteration just by being alive.”

  She glanced up at him, eyes serious.

  “Only God Sparks born with Pristine Aether could rival them. And even then, if it ever came down to a fight between them...”

  Silvie held out the Gale Fang and handed it back with a brow raised.

  “...Honestly? I wouldn’t bet on either side.”

  “Basically, my whole reason for saying all this,” Silvie began, leaning back as she chewed, “is that we’re capable of turning Earth into one of the top-ranked planets in the trials. The benefits would be massive. Other worlds, galaxies, even full-blown universes would be more willing to invest in us. Protect us as we grow until we’re strong enough to stand on our own.”

  Her eyes stayed locked on him.

  “You really sure you want to give that up… for a monkey? Can you bear that responsibility on your own?”

  She took another bite, chewing dramatically. “Mmm. This is really good.”

  “If I hadn’t known you had Pristine Aether,” she continued through a satisfied hum, “I’d have still gone ahead and killed it—whether you liked it or not. Mmh.” She scooped another bite and moaned lightly. “Seriously, so good.”

  She glanced at him between bites, mouth still half-full.

  “You should open a restaurant.”

  Kei silently handed her another small portion—he’d made extra, just in case.

  “But now that I know?” she said, tone softening as she set the bowl down. “I can’t be so bossy about it. You being here changes everything. If there’s two of us… we can carry the burden together. Still get Earth where it needs to go.”

  He nodded once. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged it off, but the corners of her mouth curled upward.

  Then her expression turned serious.

  “Also,” she added, brushing crumbs from her fingers, “keep your Pristine Aether a secret. God Sparks are already hunted. But God Sparks with Pristine Aether?” She leaned forward again, eyes narrowed. “That’s the rarest treasure existence can give birth to. You’d lose your freedom the moment it got out. You’d be hunted, not just by people—but by forces. Real ones. Ancient ones.”

  Kei absorbed the weight of her words in silence.

  “Noted,” he said simply.

  And then something changed.

  There was no light, no chime, no rumble.

  Just stillness.

  [Title Effect Activated: He Who Defied Fate]

  The system accepted what he had become—and rewrote the truth of him into the world.

  All across the expanse, wherever his crafted items existed, a quiet rewrite occurred. No flash. No alert. But those who paid attention would notice.

  Each blade, bow, gauntlet, tunic, and hidden mechanism—every item he’d ever touched—lost the trace that once made them special.

  [Crafted with: Pristine Aether]

  was replaced with

  [Crafted by Kei]

  The legacy of what he was… concealed.

  By force.

  Far off in the fight against the Ironsworn Ravager, Jin—dashing past a crumbling wall of molten stone—caught a flicker of his gear and paused for half a heartbeat.

  The silver rings he once wielded? Gone—detonated earlier to alter a fate.

  But even without them, he noticed the change.

  Jenny, her twin-bladed scythe blazing with kinetic sound, also glimpsed the shift mid-spin. The wording was different. The material, subtly altered.

  She said nothing.

  Neither of them did.

  The battle against the Apex raged on—but far from it, deep in the silence of the wind’s domain, the world shifted.

  The system moved.

  And the boy who defied fate began to be rewritten into its code.

  Quietly. Permanently.

  The system held its breath.

  Because the title wasn’t just accepted…

  It was beginning to take effect.

  Zeph, although he hadn’t understood what they were talking about, understood that Kei had protected it from the girl. he could sense traces of another Apex Boss, a creature such as himself, and that could only mean she had defeated and killed one

  Zeph looked towards Kei, eternally grateful

  “Come on, guys,” Kei said, casually slitting his wrist and letting a few controlled drops of glowing orange aether-infused blood fall over their food bowls—his daily offering.

  Hachi, Wooloo, and Zeph padded over without hesitation, drawn by instinct and familiarity. They began eating, quiet and focused, the faint shimmer of aether curling from their meals with each bite. Their bodies responded subtly—muscles tightening, coats gleaming, presence sharpening.

  The effects were immediate, as always. Aether-enhanced nutrition, tailored to them through Kei’s blood.

  Silvie, meanwhile, transformed into a puddle of excitement.

  “Oh my god—look at you guys!” she squealed, practically throwing herself into Wooloo’s plush wool. “You’re so fluffy I could die!”

  Her hands moved with unrestrained enthusiasm, rubbing Wooloo’s sides before reaching for the quiet Fangcub nestled beside him. “And you—oh my stars—you’re gorgeous.”

  She blinked at the Fangcub’s, her expression shifting from delighted to genuinely impressed.

  “Wait… a Fangwolf cub too?”

  Kei, still crouched nearby and casually stirring a pan over a small flame, gave a soft chuckle.

  “Yeah. He’s the first thing I met in this place. Bastard took a bite out of me and became obsessed with my blood.”

  Silvie tilted her head, then looked down at the cub, her tone turning sugary.

  “He must’ve done something mean. He’s a big meany, huh?” she said, ignoring Kei entirely as she rubbed behind the cub’s ears. “You’re so cute and innocent, yes you are.”

  The cub looked up at her, tail flicking, faintly annoyed by the baby talk.

  “...No idea what your name is,” she said, “but you’re officially the prettiest fangpuppy I’ve ever seen.”

  With zero hesitation, she scooted over and hugged him, then leaned her full weight into Wooloo’s side, claiming both creatures at once.

  Kei kept stirring, the faintest curve of a smile on his lips.

  She paused, glancing back at the Fangcub.

  The cub huffed softly, as if he’d heard the word murder puppy one too many times.

  “But it is weird, though,” Silvie said between bites, eyeing him over the rim of her bowl. “Wind aether usually comes in, like… cyan-greenish turquoise colors. Yet yours is orange. That’s not normal.”

  She paused, chewing thoughtfully before continuing.

  “Still, Pristine Aether usually comes with its own weird gimmicks, so I guess it makes sense… kinda.”

  “Anyway,” Silvie continued, grabbing a bowl and digging into her portion, “the biggest problem now is that Exalted Dungeon. I found a clue for it once, but this super mean voice told me I didn’t qualify. Just laughed. Total jerk.”

  Kei glanced over, mildly amused. “So you’re passing that off to me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s clearly a ‘chosen one’ thing, and I’ve already got too many of those. You can handle this one.”

  She took another bite, humming in satisfaction.

  Just then, Wooloo stood up—with Silvie still seated on its back.

  Kei blinked. “Wooloo?”

  The Fellhorn didn’t respond. It simply turned and began walking—calm and regal, like a mount with a destination in mind.

  Silvie blinked, chewing as she swayed gently with each step. “Uh… okay?”

  They passed through the trees in silence, arriving at a weathered outcropping. The ground was cracked and humming with dormant energy. A moss-covered stone pillar stood embedded in the earth, faint runes glowing along its surface.

  Silvie’s eyes widened. “Wait... this is it.”

  She slowly turned her head back toward Kei, still seated comfortably atop Wooloo.

  “You already found it?!”

  Kei stared at the Fellhorn. Flatly.

  “You traitor,” he said.

  Wooloo flopped into the grass with zero guilt.

  Silvie kept eating.

  “No loyalty,” Kei muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward—just a little.

  Staring down at his food, Kei let out a quiet chuckle.

  “God Sparks, huh?” he murmured, as if the idea itself were some private joke.

  His title—[He Who Defies Fate]—continued blinking softly in the corner of his vision, pulsing gently now that the hidden title had been accepted.

  “You’re really cheeky, aren’t you?” Kei said to the system, shaking his head.

  “Well… let’s see where this goes.”

  —

  Elsewhere—far beyond Earth, in a galaxy ruled by vast imperial power—a young man strode confidently through a marble-lined corridor. The weight of his lineage adorned him in every step, every thread of his tailored coat, every emblem carved into his cuffs.

  His name was Alix, and his presence was radiant—almost celestial. Handsome to the point of cruelty, the kind of figure myths were built around.

  Returning to his chamber, he cast one final glance over his shoulder, then entered and closed the doors behind him.

  “It’s finally time,” he said, voice full of pride and ambition. “The 1st Expanse… I’ll make it mine. My trial begins today.”

  He opened his status screen mid-step, confidence pouring from his grin.

  A voice called from beyond the door. “Alix, are you ready? The departure party’s assembled.”

  “Yes, Father,” he replied with calm composure. “Coming now.”

  He turned to leave—

  —and froze.

  His status screen flickered.

  Then it glitched. Hard. Error signs flooded it, static blurring the interface.

  “What...?”

  Before he could react, the entire display began to deform. Not shatter, not collapse—break.

  His eyes widened. Pupils shrank. Panic raced through him as the system seized violently.

  His aether responded in kind. Not with pride. Not with welcome. But with rejection.

  The force within him—once so obedient, so faithful—was clawing its way out. Like something sacred had been revoked.

  “No—what's happening?!”

  He staggered, clutching at his chest as if trying to hold it all together.

  His father, sensing something was wrong, burst into the room. Energy flared, shaking the marble walls.

  “Alix! What’s going on?! Are you hurt?!”

  But Alix didn’t hear him. He couldn’t.

  He was watching his connection to the Wind Force get severed in real time. The aether in his veins—the same aether that once flocked to him—now rejected him, violently purging itself from his body.

  The wind turned cold. Silent. Unwelcoming.

  He reached out, trembling… but there was nothing left to hold onto.

  [Title Revoked]

  [Slot Locked]

  [Designation Transferred]

  The screen blinked one last time—then shattered into black.

  Alix Ren collapsed. Unconscious.

  Not from injury.

  But from fear.

  From shock.

  From the unbearable realization…

  He was no longer the God Spark of Wind.

  “Alix?! What’s happening?!” the king demanded, his cultivation flaring with desperation. “What’s going on?!”

  But no answer came.

  —

  Back in the clearing, Kei stirred the pan slowly.

  Still laughing.

  Still smiling.

  [He Who Defies Fate]

  [God Spark]

  The system didn’t shout.

  It didn’t announce.

  It simply moved.

  And something across the stars had been quietly, irrevocably… corrected.