The glow of the monitor painted the room in pale blue, sharp enough to sting tired eyes. It was past midnight—again—and the only sound was the faint hum of the computer fan and the rain tapping against the window like impatient fingers.
Kael sat forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had gone white. On the screen, the final paragraph of Eternal Aether: Sovereign of Magic waited, unmoving, unforgiving.
He didn't scroll.
He didn't need to.
He already knew how it ended.
"Read it," Lyra said quietly from behind him.
Her voice wasn't angry. That somehow made it worse.
Kael exhaled through his nose. "I already did."
"Out loud," she insisted. "I want to hear how bad it really is."
He leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight, and glanced over his shoulder. Lyra lay sprawled across the bed, silver practice shinai discarded at her side, blonde hair fanned messily over the pillow. Her eyes—sharp even when exhausted—were fixed on him.
They'd been training earlier. Kendo drills until their arms shook, footwork until their legs burned. It was the only thing that ever calmed them after reading this novel together.
That, and complaining.
Kael turned back to the screen.
"…And so, standing atop the ruined capital, his body broken and his soul hollowed, Argen sealed the Abyssal Gate with his life. The war was won. Magic returned to balance. The world would remember him as a hero."
He stopped.
"That's it?" Lyra said.
Kael swallowed. "That's it."
Silence filled the room, thick and heavy.
Lyra sat up slowly. "So let me get this straight. He sacrifices himself. The gate closes. The corrupt nobles live. The mage council keeps their power. Close combat users are still treated like disposable shields. And the world just… moves on?"
Kael nodded once.
She laughed. It was short, sharp, and utterly humorless.
"Six hundred chapters," she said. "Six hundred. And this is the ending."
Kael stood, pacing the small room. "They built up aura as this forgotten system. They hinted it could be something more. And then—nothing. He never even tries to change it."
"He doesn't even fight properly," Lyra snapped. "Every major battle is just spell spam. The so-called 'close combat mages' are just mana junkies reinforcing their bodies. That's not martial combat. That's cheating with glitter."
Kael smiled faintly despite himself. "You sound like my instructor."
"I mean it," she said. "They had a chance to show something different. Something disciplined. Something real."
He stopped pacing and leaned against the desk. "If people actually fought like that world says they do, they'd die in seconds."
Lyra nodded. "No distance control. No awareness. No intent."
They both fell silent again.
Outside, thunder rolled.
Kael looked back at the screen. At the final line. At the ending that had left something hollow in his chest.
"You know what annoys me most?" he said quietly.
Lyra tilted her head. "What?"
"He won… but nothing changed."
She smiled grimly. "Then it wasn't really a win."
Kael closed the tab.
For a moment, the desktop wallpaper appeared—an old photo of the two of them at a regional kendo tournament, younger, bruised, grinning like idiots.
He turned to her. "If we were there…"
Lyra's eyes lit up instantly. "We'd fix it."
He chuckled. "We'd die."
"Maybe," she said. "But we'd try."
A new sound cut through the room.
Ping.
They froze.
The monitor flickered back to life on its own. A black screen replaced the desktop, letters appearing one by one in stark white.
DISSATISFIED WITH THE ENDING?
Lyra blinked. "Is this an ad?"
Kael frowned. "That's… not my antivirus."
Another line appeared.
DO YOU WISH TO FIX IT?
They stared at each other.
Lyra snorted. "Okay, that's creepy."
Kael folded his arms. "Probably a prank."
WARNING: CONSEQUENCES ARE REAL.
Lyra grinned slowly. "It's really committing to the bit."
Kael hesitated. His finger hovered over the mouse.
"This is dumb," he said.
"Completely," Lyra agreed.
They locked eyes.
She extended her fist. "As a joke."
He bumped it. "As a joke."
Kael clicked YES.
The screen went white.
Not bright—endless.
The world folded inward.
Sound vanished.
Pain followed.
Kael woke choking.
Air burned his lungs as he sucked it in desperately, fingers clawing at dirt and stone. He rolled onto his side, coughing until his chest screamed in protest.
"Kael!"
Lyra's voice cut through the haze.
He forced his eyes open.
Sky.
Not the dull gray of the city—but a vast, unfamiliar blue, streaked with drifting clouds. Grass brushed his cheek, damp and sharp with dew.
Lyra knelt beside him, hands on his shoulders. She looked… wrong.
Younger.
Her face was softer, her build lighter, but her eyes were the same—focused, alert, alive.
"You okay?" she demanded.
He nodded weakly. "I think so."
They sat up together.
They weren't in his room.
They weren't on Earth.
Stone ruins surrounded them—cracked pillars half-swallowed by moss, ancient symbols worn smooth by time. A broken road stretched into the distance, disappearing into forest.
Lyra looked down at herself. "Kael…"
He followed her gaze.
Their bodies.
Smaller. Leaner. Unscarred.
Hands without calluses. Arms without the hard-earned density of years of training.
He swallowed. "We're…"
"Fifteen," she finished.
His heart pounded.
"No phones," Lyra muttered, patting her sides. "No bags. No weapons."
Kael stood slowly, legs unsteady. "This isn't a dream."
She looked at him sharply. "How do you know?"
He closed his eyes.
Breathed in.
The world pressed back.
Weight. Distance. Presence.
Intent.
"There's pressure," he said. "Everywhere. Like before a match. But bigger."
Lyra's eyes widened slightly.
She felt it too.
A presence—not hostile, not friendly. Simply there.
"This is Aetheris," she whispered.
The name tasted real.
A wind passed through the ruins, carrying distant sounds—voices, metal clashing, something roaring far away.
Lyra hugged herself. "Kael… we actually did it."
He laughed softly, breathless. "We said yes as a joke."
"Well," she said grimly, "the world didn't laugh."
A translucent blue window shimmered into existence before them.
STATUS UNAVAILABLE
AWAKENING: DORMANT
AFFINITY: UNKNOWN
Lyra groaned. "No cheats."
Kael almost smiled. "Figures."
Her gaze hardened. "We have no money. No power. And we're minors."
"And in three years," Kael said quietly, "this world drafts everyone into war."
She met his eyes.
"Then we get stronger before that."
A distant bell tolled.
Somewhere, fate shifted.
Kael clenched his fists.
"This time," he said, "we don't accept the ending."
Lyra stepped beside him, shoulder to shoulder.
"We rewrite it."
Together, they turned toward the road—and began walking.