The world stood on the brink of collapse.
Calamity had spread like an unstoppable plague—an ancient curse reborn—corrupting lands, devouring cities, and turning entire civilizations to dust. From the icy monarchies of the Europa Kingdoms to the lush islands of the Pacific Continent, Gaia's proud nations waged desperate wars against the unknown.
Bullets.
Prayers.
Machines.
All failed.
Technology crumbled. Faith fractured. Borders bled. And still, the Calamity advanced—reshaping reality itself.
Yet amid the chaos, Gaia Financial remains unshaken.
Deep beneath the surface of Gaia, within a hidden facility cloaked by encryption barriers, arcane warding, and automated defenses, something far more important than any weapon was being constructed.
The world above fought for survival.
Below, the Unsealer was being built.
The Unsealer was not a weapon.
It was something greater.
It was hope.
Hidden in myths, buried beneath lies, the truth was clear to Gaia Financial Corporation's founders:
Gaia was not just alive.
It was Aether itself.
QUEEN had known it from the beginning.
Every tree.
Every ocean.
Every heartbeat.
All pulsed with the unseen flow of Aether—the life-thread connecting spirit, body, and the land.
And once, humanity could wield it.
Through Dr. Jin Excelsior's genetic research, Vanguard uncovered the devastating truth:
Humans had been sealed.
An invisible lock embedded deep within their DNA.
A mental shroud woven into their memories.
A theft so profound that even remembrance itself was buried.
The Unsealer would shatter that lock.
It would awaken Gaia's forgotten children.
✦ The Division of Roles
Each of the four great visionaries played a part in the resurrection of humanity:
Joseph A. Adams – The Architect of Awakening
From the Avalon Continent, Joseph led the technological efforts.
Using TechLogia's arsenal of neural synthesis, quantum bio-signal amplification, and leyline resonance stabilization, he designed the core framework of the Unsealer.
It would be capable of safely unlocking Aether's dormant strands within every human without catastrophic mutation or death.
Dr. Jin Excelsior – The Healer of Potential
From the knowledge halls of Eidengard, Dr. Jin shaped the biological evolution required to survive the Awakening.
His work ensured that once humanity's seal broke, the body could endure the shock of attunement—enhancing muscle, neural, and soul structures to withstand the surge of Aether.
Peter Pietrus – The Keeper of Remembrance
From the spirit libraries of Revia, Peter designed the Remembrance Doctrine.
It was not enough to unlock power—without wisdom, Aether would consume its wielders.
Through doctrine and rites, Peter prepared the teachings that would guide the newly Awakened back to their ancient birthright.
QUEEN – The Phantom Steward
QUEEN oversaw the practical applications. Understanding Aether better than anyone, they knew that awakening power without control could lead to devastation. Thus, they built MaGia Academies across Gaia, hidden training grounds meant to teach the newly awakened how to wield their abilities.
The world was about to change.
The ringing of the bell echoed throughout MaGia Academy, Division IX, signaling the end of class.
"Don't forget next week's assignment! We have a quiz covering each Calamity and their latest locations. Finals are coming—and that includes a taste of the frontlines!" Instructor Gryf, a retired soldier, bellowed as he packed up his notes and limped out of the room.
A crumpled piece of paper struck me on the head. "Hey, Taxi, take me home!" Sol called out.
Solomon Salamander—or Sol—was a prodigy of fire-based magic, a genius whose mastery over flames was unmatched among his peers. Standing at a towering 6 feet, he possessed a striking presence, his crimson-red hair resembling a wildfire, always untamed, always burning. His sharp amber eyes flickered like embers, reflecting both his intense determination and the legacy he carried.
Born into one of the Nine Originally Unsealed, Sol's lineage was steeped in history. His grandfather, Isaac Salamander, was a legendary figure—one of the first to break free from humanity's seal. He spearheaded the defense in Northern States of Avalon, Atalanta, driving back the Calamity of Frost and forcing it deep into Imperya Kingdom territory. His name was etched into history as the man whose flames held back an era of ice.
The Salamander family was vast—Isaac had twelve children, and each of them had five children of their own. That made sixty fire users in the bloodline, all inheriting their flames from his lineage. But among them all, only one possessed the same overwhelming presence, the same raw, untamed power as Isaac himself—Sol.
I sighed. "Yes, boss."
"Good," Sol smirked, but one of his cronies interrupted. "Aren't we heading to the training center first? Got to boost our magic."
Sol, ever lighthearted but dangerous when angered, turned to me. "Hey, Taxi, take us there first."
Another sigh escaped me. My guardian was going to be pissed.
"Taxi, we're waiting!" Sol snapped.
I summoned my Codex Nexus, flipped to the page depicting the training center's front door, and, in the blink of an eye, transported us there. The Codex Nexus is a unique projection of Aether, exclusive to our family. Unlike ordinary spell books, it does not simply contain knowledge—it is an extension of our abilities. Each page serves as a gateway, allowing us to summon, store, or even manifest objects and locations we have inscribed within. The volume of the Codex Nexus indicates how big our aether reserve is; some say my grandfather's Codex was so powerful it held entire battlefields within its pages. For me, it's a convenient tool—one that makes me the ultimate "Taxi" for Sol and his gang.
"Pick us up in an hour," Sol ordered.
"Yes," I responded diligently.
Sol laughed. "See? Convenient. He can teleport anywhere, carry our things no matter how heavy, and keep them safe. That's my Taxi!"
With a simple touch and flick of my Bookmark skills, their bags vanished into my book's page. The Bookmark is an ability. Bound to my lifeblood and the Codex Nexus, it allows me to mark reality itself with my Aether. Physical objects vanish upon marking, seamlessly stored within the pages of my Codex. Locations I mark become gateways, tethered to the Codex, allowing me to traverse distances with a mere touch. Each mark carries the weight of Aether, making the Codex an extension of my will.
"Told you," Sol grinned. "Useful, isn't he?"
They strode into the training center, leaving me standing in their wake.
Taxi. Porter. Storage guy. Back scratcher.
My usefulness had always defined my nicknames.
But my real name?
Ryuji Archivus.
White hair—a trait unmistakable among those who bend the laws of space and time. My abilities, rooted in teleportation, distort the very fabric of reality—a gift I share with others who walk the folds of existence.
I stand six feet tall—lean, swift, built for motion rather than brute strength.
Born of the ocean's embrace and the forgotten light of old kingdoms, my blood traces back to the peoples of the Pacific Continent: descendants of spiritwalkers, tideforgers, and storm dancers.
Yet buried deep within my veins flowed something rarer:
a distant fragment of ancestry from the Europa Kingdoms—from a time when ice-bound kingdom pioneered the discovery of the pacific continents
With a family name that already sounded like a butler's, I sometimes wondered if I was doomed to servitude. But the Archivus bloodline carried more weight than most realized. Like Sol's grandfather, mine was also one of the first nine unsealed. Genzo Archivus—my grandfather—was once called "General." They said he was the strongest among them. Now, he was retired, spending his days at home, where he mostly lounged around, summoning everything he needed without lifting a finger.
Unlike the Salamanders, our family wasn't large. My grandmother died during the calamity, leaving my father, Shiro Archivus, as her only child. Now, he was always away, fighting on the frontlines of the Crescent Empire. With him gone, the responsibility of raising me fell to my grandfather and my guardian. Genzo, despite having left the battlefield long ago, made sure I was trained, disciplined, and prepared for the world outside. My guardian, on the other hand, handled everything else, ensuring I was cared for in ways my grandfather couldn't. Between the two of them, I was never neglected—but I wasn't exactly coddled, either.
"Young master!" a voice called out, sharply breaking the silence as footsteps approached quickly.
Freya Eisenberg—Freya—stood tall, with long, striking yellow hair that cascaded down her back like liquid gold. Her figure was impressive, standing at just over 5 feet 6 inches, exuding both grace and strength in equal measure. She carried herself with an air of authority, her presence filling the room effortlessly, commanding attention even when she wasn't speaking. Of Eidengard descent, her sharp, well-defined features gave her an almost regal appearance, accentuated by her piercing blue eyes that burned with intensity.
She stormed toward me, her glare demanding an answer. "Where did you go this time?" she asked, her voice tight with tension. "Did someone pressure you into using your powers again? Are they making you their servant? Tell me, and I'll make sure they regret it."
I quickly raised my hands in defense, trying to calm her down before things escalated. "No, no, nothing like that!" I protested. "I just thought I might train a little. Summer's coming, and I wanted to prepare."
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Prepare for what?" she asked, her tone sharp. "Are you dissatisfied with my training? Do you think you need something more?"
I instantly regretted saying anything. The smirk she gave me—equal parts amusement and menace—sent a shiver down my spine. I could already picture the brutal training sessions she'd have lined up for me later.
"Come on, let's get a taxi and go home," she said in a tone that left no room for argument.
"But I—" I hesitated, pleading. "I was supposed to meet Sol and the others. They might get upset if I don't show."
She cut me off, her voice unwavering. "No. Your grandfather wants to see the results of your training."
I scoffed. "He's probably just going to sleep through it."
Freya's expression darkened slightly, then softened into something more serious. "Not this time. I think he's serious," she said, giving me a firm look.
That caught my attention. My grandfather, serious? He rarely ever got worked up about anything. With a resigned sigh, I realized there was no getting out of this. "Fine," I muttered.
As I looked at Freya, I couldn't help but reflect on how she ended up here in the first place. She was a survivor—one my grandfather had personally saved during an incursion in Eidengard. He told me the story countless times: how he found her, barely more than a child, fending off a horde of beasts under the influence of the Calamity of Frost. She hadn't been unsealed then, yet she fought with a strength beyond reason. Something in her defied fate itself, and my grandfather saw that spark. He brought her back, gave her a place, and—perhaps unknowingly—shaped her into the terrifying force she is today.
Now fully unsealed, Freya was more monstrous than ever. Just thinking about it made my stomach turn.
Reluctantly, I agreed. "Alright, let's go," I muttered.
I had no choice.
As we rode the taxi in silence, I felt Freya's piercing gaze on me.
I pretended not to notice, but I knew exactly why she was staring.
She had already glanced at my wrist—at the glowing Aether Watch.
Aether Watches are high-tech monitoring devices developed by TechLogia, designed to track Aether levels and body conditions in real time. They were standard gear for anyone unsealed, ensuring they didn't overuse Aether and end up disintegrating from the strain.
Right now, mine is at 90% capacity.
Which meant she knew.
"You used your ability again, didn't you?" Freya said, her voice sharp.
A chill ran down my spine. She caught on.
"N-no, I just—"
"Save it," she cut me off, her eyes narrowing. "You know the rules. The Aether may be infinite, but your body isn't. Every time you burn through it recklessly, you're pushing your limits."
I swallowed hard, already aware of the consequences.
She leaned back, arms crossed. "Think of it like this taxi," she said. "If Aether is the fuel, then your body is the engine. But unlike this car, you don't have a built-in cooling system. Push too hard, and the engine breaks. For us, that means disintegration."
I clenched my fists. I already knew this.
Aether was a double-edged sword—an incredible power, but also a constant risk. That's why people relied on artifacts to ease the burden, but artifacts were rare and tightly controlled by the government. Most people had to compensate by training under the remembrance Doctrine, a system designed to strengthen the body against Aether's side effects.
Freya sighed, shaking her head. "We need to conserve your Aether for training. You know that. So why did you use it?"
I hesitated, unsure how to answer.
Should I tell her the truth—that I'd used my ability to mess with Sol and his friends?
Or should I lie and risk making her even angrier?
Either way, I was screwed.
I turned to Freya, trying to shake off my unease. "Actually... I'm just hungry," I said as an excuse.
The truth? I was doomed tomorrow. Sol and the others would kill me for ditching them at the training center—four kilometers from school—and taking their bags with me.
Freya smirked, clearly unconvinced but choosing to play along. "Don't worry," she said. "When we get home, I'll cook you the best meal to replenish your strength."
A shiver of pure panic ran through me. Her cooking. Her terrifying "protein combo meal." A meal straight from hell.
I would rather be dead.