Chereads / Argonaut 51 / Chapter 72 - Chapter 72 - Update (4)

Chapter 72 - Chapter 72 - Update (4)

[Do you hear me?]

The message blinked relentlessly, bright and imposing in Aedhira's Soulscape. It repeated with such persistence that even his dulled thoughts found clarity in the simple yet overwhelming barrage. 

[Do you hear me?]

For a moment, Aedhira just stared, unsure if this was another glitch in the Soulscape's system or some kind of joke from the universe. Finally, shaking off the haze clouding his mind, he fumbled for a response. 

"Yes...?"

The moment the single word escaped him, the messages stopped. Silence rushed into the Soulscape, a silence so thick it made the metaphysical space quiver, as though bracing itself for whatever came next. Then, a reply. 

[That's a relief. I'd hate to have accidentally annihilated a random star system because I contacted the wrong being.]

Aedhira's non-existent breath caught in his throat, a sudden rush of cold dread creeping into his chest. The entire Soulscape shook—matching his metaphysical shudder—like it had heard the same words and understood the terrifying weight of such a casual statement.

Who...?

Before he could even voice the question, another message came through, forcing his attention back to the pulsing words. 

[Identity confirmation required.]

Aedhira blinked, his mind sluggishly catching up to the situation. "Identity...?"

But again, he was too slow. The voice beat him to it.

[Aedhira Ver. Israejin.]

He froze, eyes wide. The Ver. part echoed oddly in his mind—an unfamiliar addition. The rest, however... was undeniable.

"That's... me," Aedhira muttered, still trying to make sense of the strange title. How did this voice know? He wasn't even sure what the Ver. was supposed to mean.

As though satisfied with the confirmation, the messages began to shift, their formal tone softening into something almost... familial?

[Ah, good, good. Well, how's that rascal Astiron holding up?]

The name hit Aedhira like a shockwave, forcing him to stiffen. His voice—if he could call it a voice in this strange soul-space—died in his throat. He didn't know what to say, how to respond, or even where to begin. Silence stretched, heavy and awkward.

Finally, the disembodied voice chuckled, a sound that rang louder in the Soulscape than Aedhira's own thoughts. It boomed with a force that rattled the very space around him, each word reverberating like thunder in his mind. 

[Ah, Astiron keeping you in the dark, is he? You don't know, huh?]

Aedhira could only shake his head in response. A strange gesture, considering he was alone here, and no one could see him. But the voice seemed to understand.

A sigh—deep and old—filled the air, laden with a hint of reluctant resignation. 

[Well, maybe it's for the best, for now.] There was a brief pause, then a surprisingly cheerful tone followed. [You can just call me Grandpa!]

WHAT?!

Aedhira physically recoiled, his very soul-scape rippling with the sheer absurdity of what he'd just heard. Grandpa?! Today was either some grand unveiling of every peculiar relative he apparently had—or he was truly, completely losing it.

'I think I might have gone insane.'

The voice laughed heartily, seemingly amused by Aedhira's shock. [Not too fast, now! I don't expect you to get so familiar with me in the first five minutes. You'd be a crazed fool if you did.]

Aedhira frowned, feeling somewhat wronged by that statement. He hadn't been the one to suggest calling anyone "Grandpa." That was all on the voice! He hadn't even said anything back yet, but somehow, he was the one feeling foolish. He grumbled internally, frustration mixing with confusion as the Soulscape continued to warp and shift around him in response to the powerful presence of this voice.

Mild indignation began to swell within Aedhira, and he opened his mouth to speak, to at least voice something coherent. Yet, before he could utter a word, the voice cut him off with the same booming, thunderous authority as before.

[Explaining too much would be problematic,] the voice interrupted, its tone no longer playful but steady and grave. [Not because I don't want to tell you, but because there's little time. And honestly, telling you now would only screw with your head more than you're already dealing with.]

The weight of the statement hung in the air, and Aedhira clenched his teeth—his metaphysical set of pearlies.

The frustration he felt simmered, though he knew better than to protest.

[You're only getting what you need to know,] the voice continued, its booming resonance reverberating through Aedhira's very core. [Don't bother with extra questions either—it's a waste of time we don't have enough of.]

Aedhira's lips pressed into a tight line, realizing that any further protest would fall on deaf ears. But the question lingered in his mind: who—or what—exactly was this entity that seemed to know him so well? 

[Now,] the voice boomed again, breaking Aedhira's thoughts like glass shattering against stone, [if the plan's been going according to the sequence, you've met the Father figure—Astiron—and the Godfather figure—Nornesh.]

The statement ended with a questioning intonation, prompting Aedhira to respond. A slight furrow formed on his brow as he considered the phrasing: Father figure, Godfather figure. Why tack on the word 'figure' at the end?

He had already met Astiron and Nornesh, so why the odd semantics?

He nodded, though he quickly realized that nodding in the Soulscape was likely pointless. "Yes, I've met both."

[Oh, goody!] the voice erupted in what could only be described as boisterous glee, followed by a hearty laugh that rippled through the Soulscape. Aedhira winced slightly; even in this strange mental space, the sheer volume of the laugh was almost too much to bear.

'He seems off in the head' Aedhira thought.

After a brief pause, the voice continued, its tone shifting back to something more serious.

[Do you know what a 'Traveler' is, Aedhira?]

Aedhira hesitated for a moment, his mind immediately turning to the textbook definition, the kind any scholar or knowledgeable individual might know. "A Traveler is—"

[Not THAT Traveler,] the voice cut him off, almost with a hint of impatience. [I'm talking about TRAVELERS, the other ones.]

That gave Aedhira pause. His mind reeled for a moment, sifting through the various fragments of information he had stored away in his "Archives." Then it hit him, the pieces coming together just enough to light up his mind with recognition. His eyes widened slightly in realization. "Oh. Oooh!" He muttered, the understanding dawning on him like a light breaking through fog. 

[Well?] the voice urged, an edge of amusement creeping into the booming tone. [Do you actually know, or are you just playing at it?]

Aedhira scowled a little, spurred on by the faint doubt laced in the question. "I know," he said, though there was an undertone of uncertainty in his voice. He wasn't sure how much he really knew, but he'd give it his best shot.

Taking a mental breath, Aedhira delved into what fragments of knowledge he did possess, organizing it as best he could. "Travelers were initially wandering souls," he began, his voice steady as he pieced together the puzzle in his mind, "deviated from the natural cycles due to... unforeseen reasons. They became detached from their original paths, lost. Then... an Illyenial, for whatever reason, decided to give these lost souls a 'destination.' And that led them to land on a world apart from their own."

He paused, feeling a bit more confident now that he'd begun to recite what he knew. "These souls, at least the ones that survived the journey, would change on their way. The energies they encountered... caused mutations, deviations from their original forms. The change would manifest as abilities, or sometimes multiple abilities, depending on the soul's nature."

Aedhira trailed off, knowing that was about the extent of his knowledge. There had to be more to it, but the pieces he needed were locked away, inaccessible in his mind's 'Archives.'

He sighed, adding, "That's about as much as I know. There's more to it, I'm sure, but my Archives are still closed to me."

Silence followed his explanation, and for a moment, Aedhira feared the voice would chide him for not knowing enough. But when it spoke again, there was no trace of disappointment—only mild approval.

[Not bad,] the voice acknowledged with a satisfied hum. [But like you said, there's more to it. A lot more, in fact.]

Aedhira waited for the voice to continue, knowing it wasn't done yet. There was a sense that the information he'd just given was only the surface of a much deeper, more intricate truth.

[Not bad,] the voice acknowledged with a satisfied hum, the resonance vibrating softly through the ethereal space. [But like you said, there's more to it. A lot more, in fact.]

Aedhira waited, sensing that the voice was about to delve deeper into the truth, but what came next took a turn he hadn't expected.

[You see,] the voice began, its tone thoughtful, almost reflective, [the souls that survived the journey—they were different in many ways, sure. But there was one thing, one trait, that connected them all together.] There was a pause, the weight of what was coming pressing down on Aedhira. [Each of those souls, and the minds within them, were ruinously resilient.]

Aedhira blinked, the term striking something deep within him. Resilience—he knew the importance of that. It was something innate, necessary for survival-

-as those that couldn't endure were often likely to perish. It wasn't anything special.

A synonymous rule, true for every corner of the known universe.

[Why?] the voice continued, its tone tinged with a note of mystery. [I don't know. How? Don't know that either. Playing with souls? That's forbidden. Everywhere. Across the universe and even—]

The voice abruptly cut off, and for a moment, Aedhira thought it had vanished, leaving him hanging on the edge of the conversation. But then there was a sound—a comically artificial coughing fit, followed by a quick, deliberate change of subject.

[Anyway,] the voice pressed on, as if nothing had happened, [I wanted to help these lost souls, the ones that found themselves in places they didn't belong. They were alone in worlds not their own, confused, vulnerable.] The voice softened, taking on a more compassionate tone. [I wanted to support them. So, I created a crutch—something that would aid them in growing stronger in those foreign worlds.]

Aedhira perked up, intrigued. The voice's next words came with a sense of pride, as if recounting an accomplishment that had stood the test of time.

[I called it the System,] the voice revealed. [It was designed to help them grow, to protect them from the nasty old fogies—] A brief chuckle escaped from the voice, [—the monsters who loved picking fights with these fledgling souls. It was meant to ensure they grew in the most optimal way, to give them the best chance possible.]

Aedhira could sense the pride swelling in the voice, like an old inventor admiring their creation. [Only Travelers had the System,] the voice added, its tone now adopting a kind of proud-grandfatherly air. [That's part of the reason why Travelers are so formidable.]

The voice paused as if letting the revelation sink in. Aedhira processed it, feeling as though he were standing at the edge of some grand realization, but the voice wasn't done.

[Now,] the voice continued with a sudden shift in tone, like it was gearing up for something more personal. [Imagine my surprise when a mortal came to me many years ago, asking for that very same System—for his child.]

Aedhira's eyes narrowed as his suspicion grew. He had an idea of where this was going now, but he stayed silent, allowing the voice to spin the tale.

[This mortal,] the voice went on, [was conniving. Cunning. A thief, a terrorist. One of the worst men his world had seen in a long, long time. Not because he caused genocides or assassinations—no, no, nothing like that. He wasn't a tyrant. He was labeled 'the worst' for different reasons.]

There was a pause, a shift in the voice's tone that hinted at something more personal, more amused.

[He was called the worst because of his goals—because of his selfishness, his shamelessness. And, well,] the voice chuckled warmly, [his appalling talent for thievery and running away.]

Aedhira found himself chuckling under his breath. The image forming in his mind was all too clear now.

[But,] the voice continued, a warm fondness creeping in, [at his core, that mortal was a hardcore softie.]

A hearty chuckle followed, one that seemed to come from a place of genuine affection.

[Of course, I said yes when he asked me to help,] the voice said, its tone lifting with pride. [Out of sheer interest, mind you. But then I asked for the man's child, you know, to see what I'd be working with. And do you know what that mortal said?]

Aedhira didn't respond, though a grin tugged at the corners of his lips, already suspecting the punchline.

[He told me,] the voice broke into a fit of laughter, [he didn't have a child yet! Can you imagine? The nerve! He came to me asking for the System for a child that didn't even exist yet!]

The laughter echoed through the Soulscape, and Aedhira couldn't help but chuckle along, the ridiculousness of it all finally settling in. He had pretty much figured out who the voice was talking about, and the pieces were aligning in his mind.

"Astiron," Aedhira muttered, shaking his head with a knowing smile. Of course, it was him.

[Of course!] The voice's laughter echoed like a rumble across a distant stormfront, amused and filled with an almost affectionate exasperation. [The fool of a father, coming to me with grand ambitions for a child who hadn't even been conceived yet! Oh, how he made me laugh! That trait of his—reckless, audacious, utterly shameless—that's what made me agree to work with him in the first place. Even if he was a conniving mortal, there was... something about him.]

Aedhira listened intently, his smile deepening as he imagined Astiron, bold enough to bargain with mysterious cosmic entities, yet sentimental enough to wish for a child who would someday need their protection. The voice's tone shifted again, a hint of wistfulness creeping in as it continued.

[So here we are, many, many years later. After so many risks taken, and oh, the things he stole—this entire sector of the universe went quiet for a couple of decades.] The voice let out a small, rueful sigh. [I thought, perhaps, he had failed. Perhaps those grand aspirations of his had remained just that—dreams, unfulfilled and forgotten.]

The voice trailed off for a moment, its musings turning inward. Then it refocused, and Aedhira could almost feel the voice's gaze settling on him, scrutinizing with a sharp, searching curiosity.

[But then you show up. And I look at you, and I think... it's almost too coincidental, don't you think?] There was a pause, laden with suspicion and something deeper, like a mystery being tugged into the light. [So much coincidence that I can't help but feel like something's off. Just a bit. But even so, I felt it—the moment you were conceived, boy. It was like a ripple through the fabric of space, two weeks ago.]

Aedhira blinked, trying to process the claim. He tilted his head slightly, brows furrowed. "Two weeks ago? I've only been around for—It hasn't been more than 10 days?" he echoed. "What do you mean—"

[Oh, don't worry about that for now,] the voice interjected smoothly, dismissing the matter with a dismissive wave that Aedhira could almost see. [The point is, even as busy as I am, I made time for this meeting. So you better be grateful!] There was a playful reproach in the voice, the tone almost chastising, like an elder reminding a younger one to mind their manners.

Aedhira couldn't help but smile, a warm, genuine expression that seemed to thaw the chill that had settled in his chest. He gave a mock bow, playing along. "Yes, yes, alright, Grandpa," he teased lightly, a touch of mischief in his tone.

[Audacious! Look at this one!] The voice stuttered, its tone shifting to one of mock indignation. [Calling me 'Grandpa' within minutes of meeting me! Oh, the nerve!]

Aedhira laughed softly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Well, now you have something to brag about, don't you? You can tell your friends you've got a grandson."

For a moment, there was silence, and Aedhira's smile faltered, his own words echoing in the emptiness. Did he overstep? He glanced around the void, the shadows of unease beginning to settle into his mind. Maybe he'd misjudged, crossed a line with the being.

But then, the voice returned, filled with a warm, genuine laughter that washed over Aedhira like a tide. [Oh, that's exactly what I'll do! None of my friends will have a grandson like you, boy. Thank you, Aedhira. I... I needed this.]

Aedhira's smile wavered, his form leaning slightly forward in the void, puzzled by the sincerity in the voice's tone. He blinked, trying to parse the sudden shift. "Needed... this?" he repeated, confusion seeping into his expression. "What do you mean?"

But the voice pressed on, moving past Aedhira's question as if it hadn't heard him—or perhaps choosing to leave that mystery for another time.

[Now then, let's get to the heart of the matter.] The voice's tone regained a sense of purpose, becoming sharper and more focused. [Since you're here now, all the preparations are complete. The System will integrate itself with your user interface once you return to the waking world, so you don't need to worry about that.]

Aedhira took a deep breath, nodding slowly as the reality of what the voice was offering began to settle in. His mind raced with questions—what exactly would this System mean for him? How would it change things? But the voice's next words caught his attention, pulling his focus back to the present.

[I've also left a few nice goodies for you,] the voice added warmly, an almost conspiratorial tone slipping into its voice. [For being such a good grandson, of course.]

Aedhira chuckled softly, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. But then the voice's tone shifted again, taking on a more serious, almost cautionary note.

[But know this—your System won't be quite like the others, the ones designed for Travelers.] The voice paused, letting the words settle into Aedhira's mind. [You see, normally, the System is meant for souls like theirs—warped, changed, small, and... well, rather fragile.] There was a slight hesitation, as if the voice were weighing how much to reveal. [But you, Aedhira... your soul is different.]

Aedhira's gaze sharpened, catching the subtle clue. He had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed stirred something inside him. His soul—unlike a Traveler's—was robust, vast, unbroken by whatever trials shaped those other wandering souls. But what did that mean for him? For his journey?

[But you'll find out in time,] the voice continued, a touch of amusement lingering as if enjoying the mystery it had left hanging. [I'll let you piece it together yourself, boy. After all, what fun is there in handing over all the answers at once?]

Aedhira huffed lightly, a half-smile tugging at his lips despite the lingering unease in his chest. "Fine, fine. I'll figure it out. But you're not off the hook yet, old man," he shot back with a playful lilt, his tone masking the quiet storm of thoughts forming within him.

He didn't fully understand the significance of everything that had just unfolded, but his instinct told him that whatever this "System" was, it was going to change things in ways he couldn't yet foresee.

For now, he filed it all away for later. He knew that he'd still be able to access some of the more esoteric parts of the system—the [rewards], the [quests], and whatever other oddities might pop up every now and then. But those weren't at the forefront of his mind. No, there were two things that loomed larger than anything else, the hints dropped about the "preparations" and what exactly he was. These were the puzzle pieces he'd have to put together soon enough.

The Soulscape around him began to warble, distorting in a way that made the space feel as if it were bending under immense pressure. The voice, which had grown so familiar during this strange exchange, spoke again, this time with a note of amusement. 

[Oops, seems time's up. I'm surprised it managed to hold me here for so long, anyway.]

Aedhira went quiet for a moment, feeling a strange tug of reluctance as the voice started to fade. There was still so much he didn't know, but one thing gnawed at him enough to push through the quiet.

"Wait," he said, trying to grasp the last moments. "What's your name?"

The voice chuckled softly, its tone almost affectionate now, the amusement clear. 

[You only remembered to ask now?] Aedhira flushed slightly, caught off guard by the sudden embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks burning as he muttered something about not having had the time before. 

[Ah, fine, fine, I'll tell you. Remember it proper now.] The voice shifted slightly, something more formal, more powerful in its cadence. [It's Elysium of the Novus.]

The very name caused a ripple through the Soulscape, a sharp warble that Aedhira could almost feel deep inside his mind. There was a dull ache, not exactly painful but certainly unsettling. He pressed his lips together, understanding instinctively that this was not a name to be spoken lightly. He nodded to himself, committing it to memory with care.

"Got it. See you around, Grandpa," he said, forcing a grin. "Stay well."

The voice roared with laughter, hearty and full of warmth. 

[This is the first time a mortal has ever wished an Illyenial to stay well. But…] The laughter softened, a more tender, wistful note entering the voice. [I wish the same for you, boy. Stay well.]

Cracks began to form across the Soulscape, fragments of this strange world starting to fall away. Elysium's voice hastened, a trace of urgency breaking through. 

[Ah, before you go! Send my condolences to that bratty Nornesh, would you? Tell both Nornesh and that fool Astiron to write me! It gets lonely, you know, if they don't. Or whatever it is kids do these days to keep in touch.

Aedhira couldn't help but smile, warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of this ancient, powerful being bickering with his father and an entity like Nornesh. "I'll let them know," he promised.

The world began to blur, colors and light folding in on themselves, fading into nothingness. Elysium's voice, warm and distant now, echoed once more before the Soulscape collapsed entirely.

[Good lad.]

And then, all at once, it was gone. The world of dreams shattered like glass, leaving Aedhira adrift in the endless, silent void of unconsciousness. For a long while, there was nothing. Only the deep, heavy stillness of sleep. But somewhere, at the edge of his awareness, a hollow voice reverberated through the dark.

[100%]

[REMITTING CONTROL]

---

When Aedhira opened his eyes again, the familiar weight of reality pressed down on him, the sensation of his body returning in slow increments. His limbs were heavy, but his mind was startlingly clear, memories of the Soulscape and Elysium's words hovering just beneath the surface.

He let out a slow breath, sitting up, his muscles groaning in protest. The air was cool, the quiet hum of the surrounding systems bringing him back into focus. Everything felt the same, yet... different. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere around him, like the world had clicked into a new alignment.

Aedhira sat there for a moment longer, processing. The System had integrated, as promised, and though he couldn't see the full picture yet, he felt it, coiled deep inside. A part of him now.

He ran a hand through his hair, still half-amused by how surreal the entire encounter had been. Elysium, Illyenial of the Novus. His supposed "grandfather." He smirked to himself, shaking his head.

"Guess I'll have to live up to that title."

For now, the questions could wait. There would be time to figure out the deeper meanings, the mysteries left in the wake of that meeting. But as Aedhira stood and stretched, he knew one thing for certain.

The path forward had just shifted, and with it, the weight of the universe felt just a little bit lighter.

---

Somewhere, in the recesses of the cosmos, a ripple spread. Unseen, unheard, but felt. A new player had entered the game—one whose fate was intertwined with forces beyond even the oldest of the stars.

And the stars? They waited.