The Space Spirit

The footage was brutally simple.

The sky tore open, and a flood of monsters poured through. An instant later the heavens sealed shut again, slicing most ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the creatures that hadn’t made it down cleanly in half. But in that fleeting gap, enough of them slipped free and plummeted straight into the city below.

What came after never appeared on screen. The recording simply ended there.

Even after the alert confirmed Haze’s evolution was finished, my body refused to move. More accurately, I couldn’t shake free of the shock from what I’d just witnessed.

“...What the fuck?”

I doubted whether what I’d seen was real. The thought itself was stupid, and I ground my teeth hard enough to hurt.

Purely in terms of performance it was a jackpot. But the application shown in that footage looked far too familiar, so I couldn’t simply celebrate.

Zzzt.

As if reading my mood, a window that felt similar yet distinctly different from the status screen opened in midair like a tear in space.

An emoticon. The unfamiliar method of conversation and the clear bewilderment radiating from it forced me to take a deep breath and wrestle my own panic under control.

...Right. Haze hadn’t done anything wrong.

If anyone was at fault, it was that other Space Spirit who had caused the disaster back then. There was no guarantee Haze would ever do the same. Repeating that to myself let my racing heart gradually settle back into its normal rhythm.

“...Haa. Sorry. Looks like I worried you for nothing.”

The emoticon shook its head left and right as if denying my apology, radiating pure embarrassment. Watching it for a moment, a sudden question struck me.

If it could use complicated emoticons like that, wouldn’t typing actual words be easier? And more than that—through the skill Link I could already feel its emotions directly. Why bother with this roundabout method?

I couldn’t understand why it was deliberately leaking feelings only through emoticons.

A sour-faced emoticon appeared, as if it had just swallowed something bitter. Through Link I felt embarrassment mixed with a faint anger—no, more like reproach.

“What, trying to tell me that’s not it?”

Apparently I’d hit the mark. A wink and a star shot out like fireworks, sparkling all the way to my face before bursting and vanishing.

Watching it waste high-performance power on something this trivial made it crystal clear that Haze’s personality had shifted a little from before. Probably the influence of the absorbed spirit stone.

With the evolution its sense of self had solidified, and the emotions I felt were far more varied. That meant its thinking and capabilities had risen as well. I found myself looking forward to it in a way completely different from Kallion.

Of course, that didn’t erase the feeling that it was somehow both quiet and noisy at the same time. It was a different flavor from Keres, who had become oddly solemn only during combat while staying lighthearted the rest of the time.

At least things won’t be boring from now on.

I brushed aside the lively barrage of emoticons with one hand and looked toward the far side, where the cracks were growing larger. The end was finally approaching.

“...Wait.”

A sudden thought hit me. The current Haze was a Space Spirit.

If the Weathering Spirit could manipulate the very concept of weathering, then as a Space Spirit Haze should be able to handle the concept of “space” itself, right?

I wasn’t asking it to tear the dungeon apart. But what about beyond that barrier? This entire place was a “space” sealed inside the barrier, after all.

A proper Space Spirit ought to be able to do something about a barrier like this.

If my hunch was right, I could force the coward who’d been waiting outside, nibbling at our supplies, to come in whether he liked it or not.

Everything I’d seen in that evolution footage had been possible precisely because it was a Space Spirit. This much should be doable.

I frowned at the slowly shattering void and weighed the options: one massive wave of every remaining round at once, or repeating this tedious grind several more times. The choice was obvious.

I had the power. No need to chip away carefully.

Understanding the situation instantly, I turned to the newly evolved Space Spirit and asked,

“Haze. Can you open that?”

It was phrased as a question, but the casual jut of my chin already treated the answer as a done deal. If it couldn’t, I’d make it. If power was lacking, I’d just pour more in. Fight the enemies that appeared, stack Subjugator, and try again.

My intent must have come through perfectly. A somewhat deflated emoticon appeared, shot me a few sidelong glances, then let out a long sigh.

...What was that reaction?

It was already heading toward the barrier, so it clearly could do it. The emotions flowing through the link were overflowing with confidence—bordering on arrogance that failure simply wasn’t possible.

“...Ah.”

I got it. Right now Haze was high on its own power and couldn’t contain the excitement.

It was itching to show off its newly strengthened abilities without restraint, and my half-hearted question had felt like a lack of trust, deflating it completely.

In short, a lukewarm “Can you open it?” was far less satisfying than a forceful “Smash the whole damn thing.”

I’d been so shaken by the footage that I’d completely forgotten to check the mutated skills and new trait. The unused points still sitting there were proof.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. Back when it was a lesser spirit it had obeyed without complaint, so I hadn’t cared. Now that its ego was solid, this kind of inconvenience had appeared.

...No. I’d treat it as growth pains for a better future. As long as we could communicate, education and correction were possible.

Belatedly I opened Haze’s status window, dumped 4 points into Dexterity ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and 5 into Intelligence, confirmed, and checked the updated screen.

The updated status was excellent.

Unknown Egg, proof of high potential, only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠raised future expectations higher. Trajectory of Nothingness, which granted deep understanding and adaptation to space, was an intuitive skill that clearly showed where Haze now stood. Space Manipulation, the very identity of a Space Spirit, needed no explanation, and the supporting skill Mark that recorded spatial coordinates looked useful at a glance.

Combined properly, it could easily serve as a teleport substitute like in games. No—if the footage was accurate, Haze would definitely be able to use it that way.

The real problem was personality. The emotions I felt in real time could only be described as “childish.” Immature? Pure? I couldn’t decide whether to be happy that it now felt more human or just sigh.

“Pfft... It’s like watching a stormy teenager slowly discovering the walls of their own maturity. Hilarious.”

Lee Se-rin had somehow appeared at my side, clutching her stomach and giggling. I almost nodded without thinking—she’d nailed the complicated situation perfectly.

She was right. All that grumbling about what it could do boiled down to wanting a stronger, rougher order. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

If I just went along smoothly it would be fine, but if I didn’t firmly set the habit at this stage, later it might start demanding absurd conditions as if they were natural. At the same time, crushing a request it had finally made wasn’t what I wanted either.

What I wanted wasn’t a puppet that only moved on my orders, but a partner that could freely display its full skill within the framework of those orders.

The fact that she could define this whole messy nuance with a single word like “stormy adolescence” proved she hadn’t lived all those years for nothing.

Shiver.

At that thought a chill ran down my neck, followed by a clammy dampness. The air suddenly felt heavy, as if it had gained massive weight—like I’d been half-swallowed by a predator and barely escaped.

The vivid sensation raised goosebumps all over my nape. I roughly rubbed it, and Lee Se-rin, still smiling, quietly spoke.

“I didn’t say it out loud, so I’ll let it slide this time. Next time... you know, right?”

Leaving the rest unsaid and dumping it on my imagination only made the terror worse. It was a classic mind game—vague wording that stoked guilt and planted the obsessive fear that maybe I really had done something wrong.

An annoying technique if you fell for it. I didn’t answer and simply averted my eyes.

...Monster of a woman. Now I couldn’t even think freely inside my own head.

“Ahaha, look at me. I said I’d just watch and ended up butting in. Soooorry~”

My sullen reaction must have satisfied her enough. She apologized in a tone that held zero actual remorse and withdrew that bone-chilling aura.

It had lasted only a moment, yet the aftershock reached even the beasts behind the magic-armored palisade; distant, mournful howls rose into the air.

My summons weren’t spared either. Linked directly to me, they must have felt it even more clearly.

Kallion’s scales rattled as its face went pale. Growl instantly flattened its ears and began whining. Echidna kept a calm expression with lowered eyes, but her fingertips trembled faintly. Keres was shaking so hard her jaw dropped; she frantically caught it with flames and shoved it back into place. Bihos clung tightly to my shoulder, antennae twitching as it sampled the air. Hive, nestled in my shadow, flapped its wings in panic.

The only one whose form I couldn’t see was Haze—but I understood immediately.

A rigidly frozen emoticon floated on the far side, and through Link a violently trembling emotion poured in. It must have overheard our entire conversation, then gotten hit with that murderous aura right after. The mental shock was clearly enormous.

Otherwise I wouldn’t be describing the feeling as “trembling all over” in such a vague way. It was like dumping concentrated extract into wine that had only just begun to age. Anyway, the explosive emotion I felt right now could only be expressed as full-body shaking.

In short, it was insanely noisy—emotionally and visually. Strangely, nothing reached my ears. What kind of new torture was this? I sighed.

When I glared at Lee Se-rin with a reproachful look, she whispered with a completely shameless face that child-rearing was the parents’ job. So she starts the mess, dumps the responsibility and cleanup on me, and still wants to watch and enjoy the process?

“You really need to die...”

“Ahaha, such a joker.”

I was dead serious. Her conscience-free way of thinking left me speechless. Left with no choice, I wrapped mana around my throat.

“Haze.”

A cold voice stripped of all emotion or pitch was amplified by mana and rang out.

At my call, Haze immediately stopped panicking. The chat window that was presumably hers zipped over and settled in front of me.

An emoticon that seemed to be carefully avoiding my gaze. I slowly raised my hand toward it.

Crack!

I locked onto the spot that had swollen so large the crack looked ready to spit something out at any second, and spoke with absolute finality.

“Smash it. Don’t leave a single piece.”

The moment the order landed, loyalty slammed into place. The chat window began dancing wildly with celebratory emoticons as it shot toward the opening crack. I watched it go and let out a faint sigh.

“Aah~ You just glossed right over it.”

“...Shut up. Because of you everything got tangled and I’m about to collapse from exhaustion.”

“Then shall I lend you my lap?”

Pat-pat!

She tapped her thigh and started spouting more nonsense. I ignored Lee Se-rin completely and frowned as mana poured out through the link in a steady stream. I invested freely—several times the usual amount.

So much mana was sucked away in an instant that my vision blurred, but I forced my eyes wide and tensed every muscle to endure it.

What the hell was it doing that it drained more mana than even Kallion?

The question still hung in the air when my vision gradually regained focus. At that exact moment the entire surrounding area began to warp, as if heat haze were rising.

The distortion slowly mixed and separated in spiral patterns, looking exactly like a child squeezing paint onto a finished picture and stirring it with a stick.

Kiiiiiiik...!!!

As if proving this was no natural phenomenon, the crack in the void grew even larger, then shattered. A earsplitting screech like metal scraping a chalkboard tore through the air from every direction.

The noise reached its peak.

KWA-CHANG!

The world finally couldn’t withstand the rotation and broke.

“Grrrr... whine?”

“Woof! Woof-woof!! Krrrheeeeng...”

Crunch, crack, snap, squelch.

The aftermath was massive. Creatures that had been using the place as a passage to reach us touched the shattered fragments of space and were instantly shredded into ground meat or compressed beyond recognition into fist-sized meatballs.

Watching the stacks of Subjugator fill in real time made it clear that definite “death” had been delivered to them.

But the numbers were a little strange.

The count that had been climbing by tens and twenties suddenly rocketed the moment the chat window began weaving through the broken space. In the blink of an eye ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every stack was completely full.

My slightly hazy vision snapped into perfect clarity. The change was so abrupt it felt like I’d dozed off and been jolted awake; I rubbed my eyes without thinking.

When I opened them again, everything was already over.

Not a metaphor—I literally closed my eyes for one blink and it was finished.

Thud-thud, plop-plop!

When the twisted space returned to normal, corpses and blood began overflowing everywhere. Bodies that had been hanging in midair until their strength finally gave out hit the ground and split cleanly in half from the impact.

The cut surfaces were so smooth it looked as if nothing had ever been there to begin with. They were neat enough that you could have used them as teaching materials for a proper anatomy lecture.

I looked up at the chat window floating in the air.

There sat Haze, scattering cheerful emoticons and flowers as if it had done something wonderful, forcibly making the horrific scenery sparkle.

I didn’t know about anything else, but one thing was certain.

If I left that thing unsupervised, a whole pile of unpleasant scenes would start playing out. Maybe even the exact footage I’d seen would become reality. That, at least, I had to prevent. Absolutely.

Furthermore, until the stability of teleportation was guaranteed, I was sealing that function for a while.

For now, Kallion’s back still felt a lot more comfortable.

...Honestly, after seeing that spectacle, what idiot would cheerfully try space travel?

With a thoroughly cooled gaze I glanced at the scattered fragments of what had once been the boss, ordered Hive to collect any possible byproducts just in case, then turned to the unicorn and its forces still panicking in the rear.

“Hurry up and restore the barrier. This is the end.”

“Hi-hiiiing...”

The unicorn’s somewhat deflated reply came as its horn flickered and began to shine. Color gradually returned to the surrounding forest that had been drained of life. I stared blankly at the sight.

No matter how many times I saw it, the scene still felt completely unreal.

“Hiiiiiiiiing!!!!”

Accompanied by the unicorn’s cry, the paradise I had first seen began to reassemble itself.

At the same time I quietly pushed the clear alert that had appeared in midair off to the side and took in the sight of a world quietly reclaiming its peace.

Just a little longer. Just a tiny bit longer.