KNOCK NOCK. The sound echoed lightly through the ancient cabin, bouncing off the cluttered walls and tangled rafters. Kite’s head jerked up from the now-closed book resting in his lap.

  The cosmic afterglow still lingered faintly in the air around him, embers floating like drowsy stars ready to wink out. Then, a voice came—light, casual, too casual. “Kite? You in there? I’ve been looking all over for you, buddy.”

  Liora. Kite’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

  He looked around the cabin—and instantly panicked. Every surface was stacked with duplicated tech, reassembled artifacts, and borrowed gear from every corner of the ship. Threads hung like cobwebs from the rafters.

  Open containers buzzed faintly with mana, and one of Salti’s duplicate copies was twitching gleefully on top of a disassembled compass. “Y-Yeah! I’m here!” Kite called out, scrambling upright in the hammock.

  Which was, unfortunately, not meant for abrupt motion. The synthetic thread hammock flailed under him, slingshotting him sideways.

  With a loud crash, he tumbled out of it, landing in a graceless heap on the floor, causing a cloud of dust and loose blueprints to puff into the air.

  Meanwhile, just outside the aged cabin, Liora stood with her back to the engine hold, her storm-marked arms crossed loosely. The air buzzed faintly with the rhythmic hum of the turbines and the faint hiss of steam valves.

  The area was old—unused. The door to the cabin looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. Paint peeled off the aged wood in curled strips. The metal hinges were rust-bitten and crooked.

  Charcoal-black scorch marks stained the lower half of the frame, and a faint old burn ran across the baseboards, like someone had once tried to torch the place in frustration. Liora eyed it all with a raised brow.

  “Did Felix lend him this dusty deathtrap?” she thought as she gazed upon the door. Then her eyes narrowed. “…Or did the little rat invite himself in?”

  The soft crunch of movement inside made her tilt her head. More shuffling. Thudding. Panicked movement.

  Then—the door creaked open. A cloud of dust escaped first, followed by Kite, standing awkwardly in the doorway. He gave a crooked, sheepish smile, half his face smudged with grease and a cobweb dangling from one ear.

  “Uh… morning,” he said weakly. Liora blinked once, slowly. Her eyes scanned the inside of the now spotlessly cleaned cabin, its clutter tidily tucked away with only faint magical traces hanging in the air.

  Her gaze slid downward—her stormy eyes catching the sight of two enlarged Saltis, one latched lovingly to each of Kite’s wrists, both pulsing faintly like protective little gauntlets.

  She tilted her head just slightly. But said nothing.

  Instead, she put on a bright, saccharine smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sleep well?” she asked, her tone almost sing-song.

  Kite, oblivious to the undercurrent, nodded and stepped out, brushing off his coat as he slipped the book into the inner lining of his jacket with practiced ease. “Yeah,” he said, stretching lazily. “It was cold last night, but—heh—luckily Felix let me use the cabin.”

  Liora chuckled, soft and casual, twirling her black double-edged spear lazily in her fingers as the two of them began to walk along the grated walkway toward the ship’s upper levels. The morning light filtered through the open vents, casting golden shafts along the corridors.

  “Felix must talk in his sleep, then,” she said, voice light as breeze. “I actually woke him up this morning.”

  Liora pause for the slightest moment as her gaze hardened ever so slightly. “He said you were missing. And strangely, he said he’d lost his key.”

  That last word was bait. She glanced at him sidelong.

  Kite faltered for half a second. Then the smile returned.

  “Hah, that guy. Must’ve forgotten,” Kite chuckled, eyes drifting.

  “He was dead tired when I talked to him. I could’ve sworn I saw the key on the workbench by his robo-doggy. Probably dropped it in his sleep or something.”

  The lie flowed smoothly. But Liora wasn’t fooled.

  Not even for a moment. Her smile remained as the two walked. “Mmm,” she hummed, “Guess that explains it.”

  She said nothing else about it, and the two of them continued walking—Kite slightly ahead now, Salti’s limbs wrapped securely around his forearms, her duplicates humming with protective energy. Liora trailed behind him by a step, her spear resting on her shoulder, her storm-bright eyes narrowed just enough to keep him unaware.

  He really is clever, she thought. But not clever enough.

  She smiled to herself, a plan slowly forming as her mind raced. Ill play along with his game for now.

  The upper interior levels of the skyship were a world of their own, a symphony of noise, magic, and chaos unfolding in every direction as Kite and Liora stepped into the sprawling hallway.

  The air was thick with the scent of burning mana and damp wood. The walls curved high overhead, lined with slim golden pipes that snaked and coiled like veins throughout the ship’s skeletal frame. Some were polished and pristine, newly installed with fresh engraving and glinting softly beneath the lights.

  Others, however, were ancient, their once-smooth surfaces dulled and scarred, patched together with bolts, scrap metal, or wrapped haphazardly in old cloth to stop minor leaks. Every so often, a tired hiss of gas would escape from a loose valve, sending wisps of faintly glowing mist curling into the air like ghostly snakes.

  The ceiling overhead glowed faintly from the dim enchanted bulbs, powered by spiraling runes etched into the copper lining, their light pulsing rhythmically, as if breathing. Kite’s wide eyes drifted upward in wonder, his mouth parting slightly as he took it all in.

  “This place…” he breathed out, awe humming beneath his voice.

  Liora paused beside him, arms crossed loosely, her spear now resting along her back. Even she couldn’t help but let her stormy gaze flick briefly across the scene, taking in the sheer madness ahead.

  Down the length of the upper hall, enchanted brooms and mops were soaring through the air at alarming speeds, their wooden shafts vibrating with frantic, barely contained magic. Each left behind burning trails of fiery crimson embers, cutting like comets across the corridors as they chased down screaming crew members and guests alike.

  One poor sailor dove flat onto the floor, narrowly avoiding a spiraling mop that whirled past like a dive-bombing hawk. Another broom twirled with wild sentience as it chased a portly merchant up a staircase, its bristles ablaze with harmless but dramatic crackling sparks.

  “Get it away from me!” the man shrieked.

  Slippery puddles of soapy water and magical residue covered the wooden planks beneath their feet. Evidence of Vel and Rad’s earlier whirlwind chase.

  Crew members skidded helplessly, sliding into walls or colliding with barrels that tumbled loudly down the hall. A chaotic mix of curses, shouts, and panicked laughter echoed everywhere.

  Kite blinked, stunned. His gaze followed an airborne mop as it looped overhead like a playful predator.

  “…What the—” Kite began, both amused and mildly concerned. He turned to Liora. “Uh… is this… normal?”

  Liora’s brow twitched, her jaw tight as she sighed through her nose, visibly unimpressed. “This?” She pointed a finger lazily at the mayhem. “Earlier today, some boy and a fairy, hauling around some kind of weird robotic baby, tore through half the ship like wild animals.”

  She scowled. “Woke up the entire starboard crew. Shattered two dining rooms. Nearly flooded the galley. And someone reported that the fairy turned the laundry into—” her brow furrowed deeper in irratation, “—projectiles.”

  Kite’s expression shifted from wide-eyed awe to open curiosity. The thought of a kid and a fairy running wild with a robot baby was absurd.

  But also… kind of impressive. “Seriously?” he asked, squinting as another crew member screamed while vaulting over a slick trail of soap water. “Wonder who they were…”

  Liora scoffed, rolling her eyes as she gestured for him to follow. “Idiots, probably,” she muttered dryly.

  The two of them began walking away from the chaos, Liora’s pace slow, measured, her boots splashing quietly through shallow puddles left behind.

  Kite followed beside her, casting one last curious glance over his shoulder at the lingering madness. The cacophony of shouting voices, enchanted objects, and hurried footsteps gradually softened behind them as they climbed a gently rising staircase leading further into the upper decks.

  Here, away from the noise, the air felt calmer, thinner, as if even the wild heart of the skyship had its quieter arteries. Liora’s stormy calm returned like a tide receding.

  Without looking back, she grabbed and twirled her black double-edged spear in one hand, its lightning core humming faintly beneath her fingertips.

  And with her usual dry bite, she added over her shoulder, “…Honestly, I bet that damn fairy still thinks this is funny.”

  Kite smiled faintly, unable to hide his amusement. “…Yeah,” he muttered to himself. “Kinda is.”

  Liora’s ear twitched. That little mutter from Kite—that half-laugh, half-breath of amusement.

  It hit her like a thorn in her side. Slowly, her storm-bright eyes narrowed as she turned her head to give him a look—not playful, not scolding—but that sharp, slow-burn glare like distant thunder rumbling over blackened clouds.

  Kite’s steps slowed as he noticed. His emerald eyes flicked toward her, watching closely, and for the briefest second, his own expression shifted. The carefree mask faltered. Something colder, sharper, passed behind his gaze. Realization.

  A flicker of clarity in a sea of feigned innocence. Liora didn’t notice. She was already talking, her words edged with growing irritation.

  “You think people getting hurt is funny?” she asked flatly.

  Kite blinked, caught off guard. “I—” He opened his mouth to reply, but Liora was already clutching a fist, her spear crackling faintly with static frustration as she held it.

  “People were hurt this morning,” she said firmly. “Not just their pride either. Bruised ribs. Broken arms. Hell, some poor idiot fell three decks through a laundry chute!” She glared sideways at him. “Tell me, still laughing, tough guy?”

  Kite’s shoulders sank ever so slightly. For a moment… he actually felt bad.

  But then, slowly, he frowned. “…If you care so much…” he began, tilting his head, “…why aren’t you down there helping them?”

  Liora visibly jolted. Her arms uncrossed just enough for her grip to falter on the spear’s shaft.

  “I—The crew can handle themselves just fine,” she said quickly, almost too quickly.

  Kite’s brow lifted in slow, knowing amusement. Gotcha.

  Salti gave a tiny chirp of agreement from his wrist, smug, loyal, and entirely too on-the-nose. Liora’s words stalled in her throat as she caught sight of Kite’s forming smirk—the way he was looking at her like a cat toying with a bird who thought it was safe.

  The twin Saltis clung snugly around Kite’s wrists like living gauntlets, their silver-threaded bodies glinting in the golden light streaming through the pipes above them.

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  Kite shrugged playfully, taking a lazy step forward. “So instead of helping your precious crew,” he said, pacing slowly around her, “you decided to spend your morning tracking down me… all the way to the engine hold…” His grin widened as he shook his head in mock disappointment. “Man… cold-hearted and petty.”

  Liora’s jaw unhinged slightly as her eye twitched. Did… did this twig-legged, smug little rat just scold me?

  “I—I only came because you’re suspicious as hell!” she snapped defensively, spinning around as he paced. “And it’s not my fault the new crew members are completely useless!”

  Salti chirped again—this time with what sounded suspiciously like laughter. Liora groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

  “I swear… the old crew never would’ve let this happen…” She paced now, her voice rising as her frustration spilled over. “Back when Garrin and Edda were still running security? When old Briggs still patched the hull? Those were real sailors. Not these starstruck tourists with mop buckets!”

  Kite stood across from her now, arms crossed over his chest, smirking like he was king of the mountain. But then—Liora’s words stumbled.

  Mid-rant. Mid-step.

  Her mouth hung open slightly.

  Wait. Her storm-bright eyes narrowed as a single chilling realization hit her like a dagger between the ribs.

  …Wait. How’d he know I tracked him down?

  For a heartbeat, Liora’s mind blanked—not in confusion, but in something colder. Older. The soldier in her measured his words. The warrior in her weighed his stance.

  But beneath all that—beneath pride, beneath annoyance—something ancient and wordless twisted in her gut. Instinct.

  She’d fought monsters before. Thieves. Mercenaries. Beasts that stalked the void between worlds. But this?

  This felt wrong. Like watching a shadow that moved when it shouldn’t. Like staring at calm water and feeling teeth waiting just below the surface.

  Something was staring back at her.

  Something dangerous.

  Liora’s heart skipped a beat. Slowly, stiffly, her gaze turned to him, calculating, suspicious.

  “…Hey…” she said quietly, almost carefully. “How’d you know… I tracked you down?”

  Kite froze. But the grin didn’t vanish.

  His posture shifted ever so slightly—eerily still now. Kite’s skin seemed just a little paler beneath the hallway lights.

  He stared directly at her eyes. His reply?

  Soft. Careless. Perfectly deliberate.

  “…Oops.”

  Liora’s blood froze. Her tattoos, the blue stormmark sigils along her arms and collarbone, flared to life in a bright, electric glow.

  Before thought could even catch up to instinct, she moved. A blur of pure azul lightning—faster than any human reflex could hope to follow.

  Her body lunged forward—spear arcing clean through the air like a divine judgment. SHHK-KKK—SHUNK!

  Kite’s head separated cleanly from his shoulders. Time itself seemed to hiccup as Kite’s head soared.

  His head hit the floor with a thud, rolling gently before coming to a still stop—the exact same arrogant, undisturbed smirk carved across his detached face.

  Liora stumbled to a halt, chest heaving, electricity sparking in the air around her. “What…” she breathed.

  But then—she saw it. Kite’s decapitated body didn’t fall like flesh and bone.

  It unraveled. Thread by thread. His body peeled apart—breaking down into synthetic silk, the strands shimmering faintly before they began to float upward… dissolving into the air like scattered spiderwebs in unseen winds.

  The soon head followed suit—unraveling into threads, becoming nothing but a drifting cloud of gleaming white strands.

  Liora’s expression slowly twisted into something halfway between horror and fury. Her pulse roared in her ears.

  Then—the screaming. From below. Louder now. Urgent. Real.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she snapped her head toward the source, the lower decks where the chaos still raged.

  Her stomach dropped. Her heart sank.

  “…Kite,” she whispered in dawning dread. Without a second of hesitation—BOOM.

  Her body exploded into motion—a bolt of blue lightning tearing through the corridor, leaving jagged scars of light in her wake.

  Her form blurred—her spear trailing streaks of crackling blue energy, as she vanished deeper into the heart of the skyship, her name a curse and a promise on the wind. “KITE!”

  Liora’s furious yell echoed like rolling thunder, reverberating through the twisting steel corridors of the skyship: “KIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!” But the boy in question?

  Far, far ahead of her—swinging through the open rafters of the skyship like he owned the place. Kite’s lean frame cut through the air, his jacket flaring behind him like wings as he twisted effortlessly from thread to thread.

  From both of his wrists, Salti’s enlarged twin forms clung tightly, her eight small eyes gleaming with excitement. From her tiny mouthparts on each wrist-launcher, she fired out silver strands of synthetic webbing—the threads singing through the air with an audible twip-twhip!

  Every time Kite snapped his wrist downward to launch a new line. Each line of webbing glinted like liquid steel in the filtered morning light pouring through the upper glass vents of the ship.

  Kite’s grin stretched ear to ear, wild and electric. “That…” Kite exhaled between laughs, “…was way too close back there.”

  Salti chirped rapidly in agreement, a bright sound like delighted bells as her threads pulsed with faint inner light. The wind rushed past his ears, the distant sounds of chaos growing louder beneath him.

  And then—he swung wide into the heart of it. The corridor he entered was massive, easily one of the main arteries of the ship—a broad, open hall branching into multiple smaller passageways.

  The walls were plated in aged copper and iron, layered with enchanted brass pipes that rattled faintly with the ship’s constant hum. Glowing runes etched into the walls pulsed like veins, providing both light and stabilizing magic.

  But Kite’s swing slowed slightly. His smirk faded for a second as his bright green eyes took in the scene below him.

  And it was glorious. Absolute, beautiful chaos.

  The floor was soaked and dangerously slick, puddles of shimmering soapy water swirling like glass beneath the frantic footfalls of crew members and guests. Everywhere, enchanted brooms and mops, burning with wild crimson embers, shrieked overhead like predatory birds—their bristles ablaze as they chased screaming sailors down the polished corridor.

  Crew members scrambled for balance, slipping comically across the slick floor—arms flailing, limbs tangling, crashing into each other like a herd of terrified deer on ice. One poor chimera merchant clung desperately to a decorative support beam, screaming as a mop tried to stab at his ankles like a hunting dog.

  But it wasn’t just cleaning tools anymore. Farther down, monstrous shapes lurched through the main corridor—enchanted furniture, animated beyond reason.

  A wide-legged dresser galloped like a charging beast, its warped drawers snapping open and shut like biting jaws. A long-backed bench had somehow grown crab-like legs made from twisted table legs, skittering after a pair of sobbing tourists.

  Nearby, an elegant tea cabinet with brass filigree bellowed—its glass windows pulsing like eyes as it stomped after a cluster of screaming deckhands. Kite’s lips parted in awe, like a kid at a festival.

  “…No way…” he whispered, half in admiration. But then—that spark returned to his eyes.

  The thrill. The itch in his blood. The game.

  His grin came roaring back, wolfish and bright. Kite’s irises gleamed with vivid green light, excitement building in his chest like a storm waiting to break.

  “Come on, Salti…” he whispered as he twisted in mid-air, the world spinning around him. “Let’s give our audience a show!”

  Salti answered with an excited, electric chirp—her body glowing brighter, her threads pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Kite kicked off his current line of web, flipping through the air with the impossible weightlessness of a spider.

  His body turned in a tight spiral—graceful, precise—and as he descended, he flicked his wrist hard toward the ground. TWIP-KRRRCHH—SSSSHHH.

  From Salti’s mouth shot a massive sheet of shimmering silver webbing, unfurling like a falling curtain of liquid silk. It expanded outward in an instant—slapping against the floor and spreading with breathtaking speed.

  The web adhered to everything it touched. The monstrous furniture skidded to a halt—their legs tangled, their frames groaning under the sudden grip of unbreakable synthetic strands.

  The galloping dresser let out a low mechanical groan before tipping over with a heavy WHUMP. The skittering crab-bench thrashed wildly—but its legs were stuck fast, locked in place like flies in amber.

  Kite swung gracefully overhead, twisting effortlessly as the chaos below slowly ground to a halt. For a brief moment—silence.

  Then—scattered gasps. Crew members who had been moments from certain doom paused… blinking upward… towards their unexpected savior.

  Guests, still dripping wet and panting from their frantic running, slowly followed their gaze. And there, illuminated against the glow of the skyship’s golden lights—swung Kite, threading through the rafters like a living streak of silver.

  “Who… is that?” one sailor whispered breathlessly.

  “Is that… one of ours?” a guest murmured.

  “I’ve never seen a kid swing like that!” another said in disbelief.

  “He’s not staff…” a burly deckhand added, squinting upwards.

  But Kite didn’t answer. Didn’t even slow.

  He laughed—loud, full of thrill and mischief—as he soared above them all like a rogue comet, Salti’s webs singing behind him like silver shooting stars.

  “Show’s just getting started!” Kite grinned to himself as he sped through the air.

  And somewhere—not far behind—blue lightning was closing in. Fast.

  BOOM. A crack of thunder and a streak of pure blue tore through the skyship’s upper corridor like the wrath of a storm given flesh. Liora arrived like a comet of lightning, her form ripping through the air in a streak of raw electric fury.

  The soaked floor hissed beneath her as she landed hard—boots skidding against the thin layer of sticky silver webbing Kite had left behind. Sparks spat from her soles as the electricity bleeding off her tattoos sizzled against the synthetic threads clinging to the floor.

  Her storm-bright eyes darted wildly across the wide corridor. Chaos still lingered in the air—but not the destructive chaos she’d expected.

  All around her, wide-eyed crew members and guests huddled against the walls, breathing hard but… safe. Some of them bruised. Others soaked. But all alive.

  Liora’s scowl deepened, confusion cutting through her anger like a jagged crack. She spun sharply on her heel, scanning for any sign of that insufferable spider-rat boy.

  Her pulse hammered. Where are you—?

  Then—laughter. High above.

  Light. Carefree.

  That laugh—raw, childish glee — echoed across the skyship like a challenge hurled from the heavens themselves. Liora’s head snapped upward—and there he was.

  Kite. Swinging effortlessly through the golden-lit rafters like a specter of silk and silver, Salti’s threads trailing behind him like comet tails. His green eyes shimmered, wild and bright, as his messy brown hair whipped in the wind from his momentum.

  The boy moved like a spider who had never known the ground—flipping, twisting, thriving in the air. Liora’s eye twitched. Her mind reeled. He’s… helping them?

  Ahead of Kite, another cluster of terrified guests screamed as the enchanted mops and brooms, their crimson ember trails wild and unpredictable, zipped after them with reckless hunger. Kite’s sharp gaze locked onto them in an instant.

  Without hesitation, he let go of his current web line—flipping through open air like a gymnast—and dove. “Salti, now!” Kite barked.

  Twin web lines shot downward with sharp TWIP-THWIP sounds, spiraling outward into a massive net of shimmering synthetic silk, spreading like a trap designed by the gods themselves. The enchanted mops and brooms collided mid-chase, tangled together in a flailing heap as the webbing wrapped tightly around them—their crimson embers sparking wildly but powerless to break free.

  Kite swung right past the stunned group of people, holding the web-net like a fisherman reeling in his catch. The crew members and guests who had braced for impact slowly peeked up, their jaws slack in astonishment.

  They watched as Kite twisted in midair—that wild grin still on his face—and with a powerful spin, hurled the entire writhing, ember-spitting net upward. THWACK.

  It slapped firmly against the corridor wall, sticking in place like an oversized, enchanted cocoon. Kite didn’t stop there.

  He landed on the wall above his trapped quarry, crouched low like a spider—perfectly balanced, grinning like the little menace he was. He let the silence stretch for just a heartbeat.

  Then, in a smooth motion, he rose—standing tall on the vertical surface, perfectly unfazed by gravity—his bright green gaze locking directly with Liora’s wide, incredulous stare.

  Hands on his hips. Smug. Mocking.

  “Look at me,” Kite called down in sing-song, “doing your job for you. Some friend you turned out to be!”

  Liora’s mind went blank.Her eye twitched so hard it was a miracle it didn’t tear loose.

  Silence stretched. Then slowly, trembling, her hand lifted—spear at the ready—veins bulging along her forehead and arms, glowing tattoos flaring like cracks in stormclouds.

  “You…” Liora growled through clenched teeth. “I’m going to kill you.”

  But Kite just laughed—sharp, bright, and impossibly infuriating. But Kite just laughed—sharp, bright, and impossibly infuriating.

  “Pfft—I’d love to see you try.” His words hadn’t even finished leaving his mouth when Liora’s spear was already gone.

  CRACK-KRRRRCHH! A blue streak of lightning—blindingly fast—arced directly toward Kite’s chest.

  IMPACT. The spear hit dead-center, exploding against Kite’s form—and his body instantly burst apart into a writhing explosion of synthetic webbing, unraveling like silk shredded by wind.

  Liora’s heart skipped. Her eyes widened—huge, unblinking— s the webbing drifted harmlessly in the air.

  AGAIN!? Her mind screamed. She stood frozen, spear handle buzzing faintly in her trembling grip.

  And then it hit her. She’d been tricked. Kite had escaped her a second time.

  Her jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched her fists.

  Slowly—ever so slowly—her body began to shake, veins bulging at her forehead and arms, her tattoos glowing bright with rage. Tiny arcs of blue lightning cracked at her heels.

  And then—finally—came the eruption. “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Liora roared with primal, storm-charged fury, her voice echoing through the entire skyship.

  Every poor soul within earshot winced. Blood trickled faintly from her clenched fists where her nails dug deep.

  Blood trickled faintly from her clenched fists where her nails dug deep. With one last furious snarl, her body blurred—exploding forward in a violent surge of speed, her lightning aura blooming outward in a shockwave of raw azul power.

  She vanished like a bolt from heaven. A streak of howling blue lightning ripping through the skyship’s halls—cutting toward whatever unlucky corner of this floating madhouse Kite was hiding in next.

  “KIIIIIIIIIIITE!!”