The world evaporated, until he lost touch with all of his senses.

               His eyes opened to darkness, but it was not the pitch blackness from before. He could sense pinpricks of a dim light peering through. He heard a hundred soft thuds close by. Barely an arm’s length ahead.

               It sounded like… rain?

               Nick felt slow and sluggish, both in body and mind. Like he had just awoken from a deep sleep. The best sleep in his life. Wherever he was… it was comfortable. He wanted to stay in that bliss, to rest some more. His eyes drooped.

               Something hissed, like steam escaping from a kettle. The darkness split sideways to reveal a gray sky.

               A drop pelted his cheek. Followed by another, and another. Cold and wetness glistened down to his face, driving him out of comfort and back into the world.

               His eyes bleared open. He blinked past the rain, he could make out blurry dark branches in the gray sky, like trees swaying in the breeze.

               Where was he, and what just happened?

               He heaved himself upright, slowly feeling blood rush back to his head. A haze scoured his vision, like looking at the world through distorted glass.

               Shapes resembling tree trunks strode up around him. Even if his sight was in question, his sense of smell worked fine.

               He smelled bark, leaves, grass, and something else. Something foreign. Something he couldn’t recognize from his time in the wilderness around Sevola.

               It was a forest.

               Besides that, he felt fine. Better than fine. It struck him odd. Something tugged at the recesses of his memory. Whatever he had gone through should not have left him fine.

               He began to remember.

               Nick peered down at his hands. The frostbite on his right hand was gone, although the rolled cloth along his arm was ripped along several places. However, his left arm…

               The cloth was completely torn away, revealing a violet pattern of straight lines and circles. They stretching down the entirety of his limb, contrasting with his now corpse-like white skin. They converged onto a rigid spiral-like shape at the back of his hand.

               Nick almost flung his left arm away as if it was diseased.

               He recalled more of what happened. The room, the battle, the pitch blackness and the voice. All the days spent in purgatory strapped to the ship, and the attack on Sevola.

               The voice said he would be returned whole. Was this part of the deal?

               The wind picked up and rain continued to pelt his face. Nick raised an arm to block it, while taking a look around. Even through blurred vision, he could make out the swaying trees above and a rising gray mass to the left. A mountain or cliff perhaps?

               He distinctly recalled falling. Down to a forest. This must have been where he landed.

               How did he survive the fall?

               He was clearly not resting on the ground. He was resting on something soft. Far more comfortable than any bed. He looked down.

               A black pod, shaped like a caterpillar’s cocoon. Violet lines strummed its interior, similar to those running along his left arm.

               He graced his right hand along the outer shell. It was as hard as marble.  

               Whatever this thing was had cushioned the blow for him. How it appeared and whatever happened between the moment he blacked out and the moment he landed was still a mystery.

               A mystery to be solved later. He still had no idea where this place was, and he didn’t like not having his bearings.

               Nick’s awareness surged out, like his mind suddenly became too big for his body. He could feel those strange phantom limbs flailing about. He remembered the sensation.

               It wasn’t a dream then. Everything that happened had been real.

               He had been sent back.

               Too many odd things had happened at once. The machine-like humanoids. The floating blue screens.

               Nick looked at his left hand again. The violet striations drew up unpleasant images. Ones from his nightmares and dreams of years past. He stared where the lines met at the back of his hand. A square symbol with straight lines protruding inwards like a jagged spiral.

               It looked like a button, so he pushed it with a finger.

               The instant he did; a transparent blue screen flashed in front of his eyes.

               Main Unit: NEZRA- 14526181
               Current Generation: 1

               Main Unit Energy Quantity: 100
               Droid Count: 0/50

               Total Mineral Quantity: 0
               Total Energy Quantity: 100

               Active Constructs: Sarcophagus x1

               Options:

               [UNIT ARRAY INTERFACE]
               [BUILD]
               [ADVANCEMENT] Requirements for Second Trial

                              Main Unit Upgrades: Power x5, Capacity x5, Mental x5
                              Constructs: Sarcophagus x1, Refinery x1, Factory x1, Armory x1
                              Droid Count: x30
                              Active Classes: Offensive Droid x2, Defensive Droid x2, Support Droid x2

               The same blue screen from earlier. A part of the power he gained as a result of the removed restraints?

               The rain passed by the screen as if it wasn’t there. Interesting. Nick pushed his left hand against its edge, and it moved as if it was a solid object, floating in front of him.

               How exactly did it do that? Maybe through the power of air? There didn’t seem to be any emeralds or aether, and it didn’t seem to react to the corporeal world. An illusion then? Rather stellar illusion and beyond any he knew of.

               Nothing about this ability matched anything he knew about Bracers or the elementally-gifted Innatum. Upon a cursory glance of the words however, he detected a string of logic to it. One he could use.

               As happy he would have gone on uncovering the mystery of this power now, more pressing matters took priority. He pushed the red [X] at the top right corner of the screen, causing it to vanish.

               He needed to figure out where he was.

               Nick swung his legs out of the pod.

               The instant he stepped onto the dirt, water sponged out his wet socks and through the holes in his shoes. What remained of his pants and shirt was drenched and tattered. He peeked under his shirt, and onto his chest. The bandage over his chest dangled, but the scabs, the ones inflicted by the harpy aberration, were completely gone.

               Whatever healed him evidently did not do the same justice to his clothes. Although it got rid of the waste.

               Nick stepped up.

               His body felt amazing. More responsive and agile.

               His vision still hadn’t returned to normal, although he could see further with each second. He turned around, taking another look at the black pod he emerged from.

               Above it was a series of yellow letters, just like the ones he read from earlier.

               [Sarcophagus]

               Well he at least knew what it was, and he had the feeling he was going to see more of those yellow labels in the future. The pod itself reminded him about something similar Valdric found him in as a child.

               Thoughts to be shelved for later.

               A tree trunk stood a few steps away from him. Pale white shapes draped across its sides, like towels hanging from a laundry string.

               There were pale shapes not just along this tree, but across nearly all the others in the forest. Or at least the section he was looking at.

               There was something off about the trunk, like something was emanating from it. He took a few steps forward, feet splashing into rain puddles. More water seeped into his shoes, which he ignored.

               The sight of the trunk sharpened, and he noticed the red bark, along with something gaseous peering off the skin. It wasn’t just a trick of his mind or faulty vision.

               Nick reached out with a finger, and the moment he touched the trunk it was coated in a faint blue outline.

               Another screen flashed in front of him.

               [Potential Resource] Mineral Content: 100, Energy Content: 50

               Its sudden appearance caused him to flinch away. Nick, in annoyance, pushed the red [X] to send it off. The blue outline vanished along with the screen.

               He placed a finger against the bark, skimming it along its edge. Rough and brittle. However, as his fingers trailed along the wood, the gas swirled in its wake, wisping into his skin. The sensation was pleasant but also familiar.

               He recalled feeling it when auroral winds billowed past him or when he drew energy from gemstones.

               Aether. The odd gas was aether. What sort of tree naturally emanated aether?

               He took a closer look at the bark, and his eyes widened as he realized what it was, and consequently, where he was.

               The tree was a cousin to the lumber that made up the blue hulls of the Longwarder and the other ships of the raiders. Far less sturdy however, because the area it thrived was further from the Ancient Capital, and consequently far less rich in aether.

               The tree was rubenyew, which only grew in the Fringe. The outermost layer of the old continent.

               His sight now normal, Nick made out dozens of the same type of trees around him. The willowy shapes between them. Shapes which turned out to be webs, their span the size of human bedsheets. They were everywhere.

               His blood froze. He took a step back.

               He noticed a yellow glare from the corner of his vision. A reflection of his face from the puddle, glaring back at him.

               The sight caused him to jolt another step. His heel caught a root and he tumbled back.

               Right onto one of the pale strings.

               The impact sent a ripple across the long chain of webs.

               Nick lurched up, but the web clung furiously to the back of his shirt, dragging him back to the ground.

               Something shrill shrieked through the trees. Alerted to the presence of prey.

               Nick grabbed the shredded pieces of linen along his chest and tore it in two. He tumbled free, leaving behind the tattered remnants of shirt, while almost colliding into another web in front.

               He knew what was coming, and he had no intention of being prey.

               Looking around him, he saw nothing he could fight with, and he still had little idea how this power of his worked.

               So, he did the next logical step, and ran.

               He left the sarcophagus behind, running into a section of the forest absent of webs. He realized he must have landed just at the corner of their territory.

               That didn’t mean he was safe however. What was coming was several steps above harpies on the aether-monster hierarchy, with a pack-hunting mentality. As if to reinforce that, several more shrieks joined in with the first. He could hear trees swaying behind him in the distance, far too erratic for it to be the wind or the rain.  

               He whipped through the forest, toward the side without the webs. He ran faster than he thought he could. All while feeling the need to breathe harder. In fact, he didn’t feel the urge to breathe at all. Like it was just a pleasant habit versus a necessity.

               Even with this newfound endurance, he could hear the swaying of the trees, rustling of branches, and the skittering of multiple legs ebb closer and closer.

               He was going to be overrun.

               The giant slope from earlier loomed beyond tree cover to his right. With his vision clear, he made out odd structures perking out the side of the wall. Too straight and rigid to be formed by nature.

               A gemstone mining structure, or at least what was left of it. Built by the First Civilization and worn down from eons of abandonment.

               Close enough to be a possible means of escape.

               He swerved in its direction, trying not to think too hard about the encroaching legs and howls.

               The forest ended into a small clearing, before the wall of stone began. Built into a cliffside, it loomed high over him, as tall as eight houses.

               Nick looked in despair as the ground level entrance had caved in.

               However, about half-way up was a hole. A separate exit for minecarts. Once there may have been a slope leading it to the ground, but now all that remained was a narrow ledge jutting off the cliffside.

               At this point, he had no alternative. He stepped to the wall, looking for a few ridges he could brace himself against and began climbing.

               Valdric’s words echoed in his mind, back when they first ventured up a mountain. Always keep three of four limbs against the rock. Push with your feet if you can. Keep your body close to the surface. Use a rope.

               He didn’t have a rope, and he really wished he did because the wind picked up a few steps up the wall. Rain turned into hail which pummeled his right side. He struggled to keep his grip against the rocks which seemed to grow more and more slippery with his ascent.

               Pain jolted when he grabbed onto an edge that was sharper than he expected. He resisted the urge to let go, even as warm red blood dripped down.

               Almost immediately, violet wisps swirled off his skin and around the injured palm. He felt the wounds seal shut.

               So, he can heal too? More to think about later. Once he made it to safety.

               He got up a few more steps, when he could hear the skitters reach the clearing. Sneers, hisses, and clacking rose from below.

               He did not tempt a look. The bestiary specifically mentioned they had issues latching onto watery surfaces. Hopefully.

               It was just a few more steps to the ledge. He moved his right hand up, just as the footing below his right foot gave away.

               Nick slipped, and a gust of wind threatened to send him flying away. He clutched onto wall with his left hand and foot.

               As he hung in limbo, he got a good glance of what was waiting below.

               Six of them, each the size of a horse. Hissing and slinking about on eight-legs protruding out a bulging core of green and brown patterns. Their mandibles opened, revealing several rows of snapping fangs. Each capable of snapping through any metal weaker than silverite. Their hide thick enough to resist many first and even second tier spells, even accounting for elemental weaknesses. Many in their number had killed Reclaimer expeditions in the past, and Nick was aware of a few historical footnotes of Seraph-Knights or Line Mages getting eviscerated by their packs.

               Forest Arachnids. Communal hunting aether-monsters with an emerald core that, as their name suggested, took the shape of a giant spider. Their green eyes glimmered up, and Nick was distinctly aware they were looking upon him. Waiting for him to fall.

               A few pawed their way up, before slipping back down. The rest let out guttural shrieks, spewing green spittle which hissed holes through the rock and dirt.

               Nick looked away, clenching his teeth. Even as he felt the blood drain from his face.

               There was no need to be scared. As long as the rain kept up, which looked like it would, they wouldn’t be able to get up. Just a few more steps until safety.

               He swung against the wind, his right-hand finding purchase on the wall. He kept climbing, and heaved himself over the broken ledge. As a measure of caution, and partly from exhaustion, he crawled several paces away into cover.

               As he lay upon the stone surface, violet wisps healed and relieved the scrapes around his chest, knees, and hands from that final effort.

               The forest arachnids howled, a final gesture of anger at their escape prey, before he heard their legs skitter back into the forest.

               He was still alive, and safe. For now.

               Nick lurched up, taking a look at what lay ahead.

               Beyond the rain, he could see a forest of red trees with green leaves. A river cut across it, before it continued on, ending into a series of rolling hills. As one approached the horizon, the hills grew steeper, until they sloped up into a mountain range which stretched endlessly to his left and right. The regional divide which split the Fringe from the Outskirts.

               This was the old continent, the same land where Valdric spent the majority of his life.

               A land haunted and plagued with aether-monsters. Entire poems and songs were dedicated to the terrors awaiting here.

               However, even with the dreariness of the rain and clouds, Nick had a hard time imagining this to be some ravaged wasteland.

               It was serene. In a natural way only possible without human intervention.

               Beauty aside, coming here had always been his goal, and now here he was. In less than suitable conditions, but he still he made it.

               He looked down upon his dirt-covered hands, and the ripped remains of his pants and shoes. The situation now reminded him of a something similar long ago. When he departed into the wilderness, intending on arriving at Reclaimer City by land. Rash and stupid, fueled by emotion than reason. Done without a plan and with no knowledge of geography.

               He managed a week before he was forced to return. Dirty, his clothes in rags, and out of any other supplies. He recalled Miri and Ren’s faces when he wandered through the gate. When they ran towards him. It was one of the few times he remembered seeing Miri cry. Lara wrote him a rather strongly worded letter once she got wind.

               He was beyond returning, and even if he did, there was no Sevola to return to. Still, Miri and Ren were safe, and in good hands. Nephilim always watch over their own.

               Nick took a seat. And where did that leave him?

               He clenched his fists. He hadn’t forgotten the faces of the raiders. Laughing as they waltzed off with their stolen loot, departing from the devastation they left behind.

               They weren’t just mere pirates and thieves. Northlander heathens who lived outside the way of the Divines. Oathbreakers who reneged their oath to the Reclaimer cause, abusing the powers they gained to prey upon others.

               Nick could see memories of Cedric and Cianna’s corpses. Their dead eyes calling for justice, alongside all the dead left behind. He didn’t know if Vislanda would do anything in retaliation but he doubted it. They had abandoned their forays into the old continent long ago.

               Vlara was still out there, along with half the children. And beyond that? Valdric’s dream, and the complete reclamation of humanity’s homeland.

               He fulfilled one promise that day, and alongside the ones that remained, he also made a few more.  

               He felt the phantom limbs crick around his mind. The urge and the madness tingled in a corner. It wasn’t gone, but it was still there. Smaller though, as if with the expansion of his own mind its relative size remained the same.

               Enough to be ignored.

               The wet rock below him formed a mirror, reflecting his own visage back at him. The same one which caused him to jolt earlier.

               The color in his disheveled hair and his eyebrows had drained away. Where once it was black, now it was a messy gray. Violet lines and circles, similar to the one along his arm, splintered along his skin from his left ear toward his eye.

               An eye embedded with a glowing yellow square iris. Like the mask from before.

               Things hadn’t gone as he planned. He wasn’t a Bracer, but he could feel he had been given the means for something far far more.

               He looked down at his left hand, to the symbol on the back of his palm.

               Nick had several obligations, and he fully intended on delivering them.

               He drew his right hand to push the symbol and bring up the screen.

               It was time to understand how this power worked.