Whispers of the Wind in the Proof Ruins
My whole body buoys up—whoosh—then settles lightly back down. I blink and stare ahead. I'd taken five steps forward, but got shoved back nine.
Wha— we just floated up! We almost flew away!! I told you it'd fly us!! How many times did I warn youuuu!!!
"Meh."
Truth be told, at first I didn't think it'd send us flying that far. In the game, I'd never been swept away by a sandstorm. But experiencing it for real? Yeah, it felt like it could hurl us pretty damn far.
Probably 'cause my body's so light.
So what do I do?
Use a different spell.
I kick off my shoes without a second thought, going barefoot. Then step forward, no hesitation.
Krrsh—
But it's different from before. My foot sinks into the ground. My tail, swaying behind me, does the same—digging in right beside my foot to brace me steady.
Krrsh—
The next step doesn't touch the surface either. My foot plunges into the wasteland's parched earth, and my tail slams down alongside it.
Krrsh— Krrsh— Krrunch—
Soon, I stand where I got blown back to earlier. I splay my toes wide, then stomp down harder. The raging storm rocks my body at the same moment.
It sways. That's it. No floating back like before.
Storm-Withstand Magic (Physics)!
I grin cheekily and keep walking. One step, two. Three.
With each forward stride, the grit of sand grains whipping past my skin sharpens. The crunch-crunch sounds vicious as hell. Miko in my mouth screams her throat raw.
Can't blame her. It sounds like scraping coconut husk with a fork, nonstop.
But my skin stays smooth. Transparent scales risen over it block the blade-like grains.
No need for magic stolen from test subjects. Just don't get blown away.
I yank my foot free from the earth with a satisfying pop and take a big step.
This is insane. Seriously, this can't be real. How did we get out? What the hell even... What have I been researching all this time...?
We emerge from the sandstorm. Not a drop of blood spilled, no scratches on my skin, perfectly fine. Even my clothes are intact.
The scales protecting me seem to have anticipated every scenario that could trouble me.
For real, at this level... We could take on corps, right...? No, we'd definitely win...?
Drones bob around me, Miko babbling in a dazed voice. Her expression's probably as slack as when she offered to lick my tail.
Doesn't catch my interest, though.
"Whoa..."
They say the eye of a typhoon is calm. Same here.
This place, walled in by sandstorm on all sides, lies serene and still. Even the jaundiced sky clears to blue here.
And what I see? Just one thing.
The Proof Ruins, standing proud in the desert's heart. Structures of sleek marble, countless fragments of what were once pillars, now toppled.
Their surfaces bear wind-carved traces of ages and unknowable glyphs, screaming they're not of this world. When storm gusts flash against the marble, the light seems to dance alive in the patterns.
And at the center. Everything else buried in sand, but the hourglass-shaped structure—surely slumbering with magic—has a clear, open entrance.
That's where I go. Magic awaits!
"My mod!"
I dash forward, grinning like the world's mine.
Wait, squeak!!
Miko snaps to and blocks my path. A thumb-sized drone can't stop me, of course.
What now? How do I halt this filly?
Her processors whir, finding the answer.
If you go straight in, the magic might vanish!
"Huh?"
Momentum? Never heard of it. My body halts abruptly.
"Vanish?"
Yes! Ruins have traps... like puzzles. Skip 'em and your body might explode, or teleport somewhere, or the magic vanishes.
Vanishing magic's the best outcome, she says. Explosion's obvious no, teleport's bad too. If coordinates lock right, you move fine—but jumbled ones fuse you with structures. Most common? Merging with wasteland dirt.
Humans sprouting from barren soil? Still nightmare fuel, she claims.
But who am I? Yuugiri Miko, chief researcher of the ruins exploration division. Best in Eden at disarming traps.
Not an empty title. Not faked. She proved it, mostly via traps.
Heh heh, time to prove my worth. Leave it to me. Most traps take a day max!
"What if not most?"
Then... one to three months, but it's fine! This place isn't huge. Worst case, six hours.
Calling this not huge means she's seen bigger. How much got stolen?
I pout and step forward.
Mmm, see that rock ahead? Stop there.
Following her, I halt before a big boulder and squint around.
Something's there, sure enough. A pale, misty dome encircling the ruins...
Mana.
Hmm, this one's a maze, I'd say.
"Maze?"
Yep. Wrong path teleports you. Follow slow, wanna try?
Miko hums a tune, bobbing ahead. Moments later, she stops dead at the dome's edge—like she has mana-sensing cams.
My steps halt there too. And I see it.
Hmph, six hours tops.
A path drawn in mana. Twisting into the ruins, footprints stamped helpfully—like safe to step.
Looks legit. Follow those prints, no problem.
"Miko."
Yeah?
"Right in front of my foot."
I wiggle my toes. The drone bobs over, scans.
What's here?
"This the way?"
...Huh? Wait, hold on.
Silence, then Miko stammers, quivering.
It is...? H-how'd you know...?
Mazes are toughest at the start. Four of six hours just finding the entry.
Yet I spot it in under a minute.
"I see it."
You see it? The path?
"Yeah. Let's go."
No more waiting. My pale foot touches the mana footprint.
Second step same. Nothing happens. Mana around us gathers like a welcome.
W-wait! One slip-up and—
I ignore her shriek, take the third step. Nothing.
"It's fine."
By the fourth, I'm sure. Tingling mana greets me as I skip along.
Fifth, sixth, seventh. A hum rises—mana's murmur. Spreading, it's a pleasant melody. Like morning birds, or a siren's song.
I follow it deeper. No need to check the path. Mana's whisper is my guide.
Eighth, ninth. The yellowed ruins burst into full color under the storm-blocked sky.
Spring meadow of nameless wildflowers. Summer mountains lush with green leaves. Autumn barley fields gleaming gold. Winter garden muffled in white snow.
Plain white mana blooms into hues, stirring breezes. Meadow flowers sway. Mountain leaves flutter. Barley dances. Hidden snow flowers peek out.
My face blooms too.
Tenth step. Into the ruins.
"Whoa."
Wind blows. Ordinary to most, but not me.
This wind wrapping me is pure magic. Fingers stroking silver-gray hair, breath tickling my tail, faint scent brushing my cheek.
Instinct guides my hand out. Wind twines slender fingers—warm like interlaced hands, or blanketing my knuckles. It whispers.
Not human tongue. I know no languages beyond Hangul, but this isn't human. Still, I grasp it fully.
Dragons can't not understand magic.
"Wind magic, huh."
Unlike stolen scraps from test subjects—no forcing pieces together.
This is whole, complete.
Magic circuits etch into my mind. No chant needed. Just will it—world's mana obeys its master. I murmur low.
"Good job. Rest now."
The sandstorm, vigilant eons guarding the ruins, slumbers.
Ruins' enveloping magic and mana vanish. Lighter out than in.
I beam, fanning my fingers. Thin winds drape each one.
Can't shoot or swing 'em. No use in mind yet.
Still, I grin ear to ear. Complete magic!
"Miko."
Beaming, I approach the drone hovering frozen. Seems even wobblier now.
"Look."
No reply. No beastly gasps, no awe, no sighs—like always.
"Magic."
I show off anyway. Index to middle, middle to ring, ring to pinky—then thumb. Wind wafts, tap—nudges the drone.
We gotta run.
Corps are coming.
Corps eyes and ears everywhere. Could say it's the most common line in Cyberpunk: Eden.
Holds in the wasteland too.
I scan slowly. Massive sandstorm gone. Clear sky beyond—hundreds of corp drones swarm.