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The World of Light: Aetheria

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🌸 Chapter One: A Thread Unravels

The sky was falling.

Or at least, it looked like it.

Shards of golden light cascaded from above as if the heavens themselves had been torn open. In the distance, the faint sound of sirens and cracking energy echoed through the air — an all-too-familiar symphony of a Riftstorm.

Kael Ren stood at the very edge of the highest platform in Tenka City, leaning over the protective rail. Below him, countless floating isles glittered like lanterns in the dusk, each crisscrossed with streaks of shimmering Threads of Light. Between them, the vast emptiness of the Abyssal Sea yawned, a void of stars that both beckoned and terrified him.

And up above, the sky burned.

The Riftstorm hadn’t been in the forecast — but then again, the Threads didn’t care about human forecasts. Dozens of brilliant white cracks spiderwebbed through the clouds, and ghostly Wraithkin shapes moved inside the storm, writhing and screeching.

Kael gripped the rail tighter, feeling his fingers go numb. The Threads of Light weaving through the sky seemed weaker here — like taut strings stretched too thin.

For as long as he could remember, he’d been able to see them. Everyone could see Threads faintly, glowing faintly in the corner of their vision… but Kael saw them clearly. Every vibrant, twisting ribbon connecting people to each other, to the world, to their destinies.

And tonight, he saw something he’d never seen before.

One of the golden threads above him snapped.

The sound was deafening, like the twang of a colossal bowstring, followed by an eruption of light. A lone figure plummeted from the storm, trailing sparks behind them as they fell.

Kael didn’t hesitate.

“Dammit,” he muttered, springing onto the railing.

The wind tore at his black uniform jacket as he launched himself off the platform. The freefall stole his breath instantly. His body cut through the air like a blade, his hand reaching up.

“—Threadbind!”

The golden line of light he’d been focusing on snapped taut in his mind’s eye, and with a flash, it appeared in his grasp. He yanked it toward him. The world around him blurred as the thread pulled him sideways through the sky, whipping him toward the falling figure.

The impact nearly broke him. He slammed into the figure and wrapped his arms around them as they continued plummeting together. His ears rang as he summoned another thread and tugged it hard — stopping their fall mere meters above one of the lower isles.

They hit the ground in a messy heap, rolling to a stop in a rain of glowing dust.

Kael coughed, his chest screaming in pain, but he forced himself up.

The figure was a girl.

Her long white hair was tangled, her uniform torn and smoking. Strange markings glowed faintly on her skin — marks he’d only ever seen on ancient scrolls. Her hands were still clutching a broken thread, one end frayed and sparking in her grasp.

Kael froze.

“You…” he whispered. “You cut it?”

Her golden eyes flicked open, and for a moment she looked at him like she didn’t understand what he meant. Then she smiled faintly.

“About time… someone noticed.”

Then she passed out.

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The sirens were getting closer now.

Kael’s mind raced as he hoisted her up onto his back. If the Peacekeepers found her, they’d drag her straight to the Council. And if the Council saw that broken thread in her hand…

He didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to her.

So he ran.

He cut through the alleyways of the lower isles, ducking under streams of light and weaving between startled pedestrians. Around him, the Threads of Light stretched in every direction — faint connections between strangers, bright bonds between lovers, heavy chains between masters and servants.

And above them all, the storm raged.

For years, Kael had wondered if the whispers were true. That the Threads weren’t just energy… but chains. That somewhere up there, something was puppeteering the whole world.

And now… he’d seen it. Someone who could cut them.

A Threadbreaker.

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When he finally stopped, he was deep in the undercity. Here, the air was thick with steam and grease, and glowing graffiti marked the walls — sigils of the gutter gangs who ran these streets.

Kael ducked into a narrow doorway and knocked three times.

The door cracked open.

A wiry boy with oil-streaked hair and mismatched goggles squinted out at him. “Kael? You’re late, man. The boss is pissed.”

Kael shifted the unconscious girl higher on his back. “Tell her she’ll want to see this.”

The boy raised an eyebrow but stepped aside. Kael strode in, his boots clanging against the metal floor as he descended into the hideout.

The air was warmer here, filled with the hum of machinery and soft light from floating lamps. A group of young Weavers-in-training sat on mats, practicing their forms with glowing strands.

And in the center of the room, leaning casually on a rail overlooking the Abyss, was her.

Aya Soryu.

Leader of the underground Weavers, the most feared rebel in Tenka’s underbelly.

She didn’t look up as Kael approached — just flicked her braid over her shoulder and twirled a dagger of light between her fingers.

“You’re late,” she said flatly.

“I know,” Kael replied, gently lowering the girl onto a nearby couch. “But I think I found what we’ve been looking for.”

Aya finally glanced over, her crimson eyes narrowing when she saw the girl.

“Who is she?”

Kael hesitated, then looked Aya dead in the eyes.

“She’s a Threadbreaker.”

The word hung in the air like a blade.

Aya’s dagger dissolved in her hand.

She stepped closer, studying the girl with the faintest trace of wonder on her face. “Impossible,” she murmured. “Those are just myths. No one can…”

Kael pointed to the frayed golden strand still clutched in the girl’s hand.

Aya’s eyes widened. She reached down, touching the broken thread — and instantly yanked her hand back as sparks shot up her arm.

“…Well then,” she said finally, her usual smirk returning. “Maybe the myths are real after all.”

Kael sat back, rubbing his sore ribs as he watched Aya gesture to the others to stand guard.

Above them, another crack of thunder echoed.

The Riftstorm wasn’t letting up.

And somehow… Kael knew this was just the beginning.

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🌌

That night, as the storm howled over Tenka City, Kael couldn’t sleep.

He sat outside the hideout on a rusted platform, legs dangling over the edge. The golden Threads stretched above him like a broken harp.

For so long, he’d felt trapped here.

Told what to be. Who to be. What thread to follow.

But tonight…

He closed his eyes, feeling the storm winds whip through his hair.

Tonight, he’d seen someone who could cut those chains.

He glanced back at the girl lying unconscious inside.

“…Who are you?” he murmured.

No answer came, just the faint shimmer of light on the horizon.

Somewhere up there, the gods were watching.

And Kael knew, deep down, that whatever fate they’d written for him…

He was going to break it.

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✨ End of Chapter One

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