Eldritch Guidance

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Johannes froze, his blade lowering slightly as his eyes narrowed. For a moment, the icy aura around him seemed to waver, the relentless advance faltering. Cid could see the conflict in Johannes' expression—anger, grief, and curiosity warring for dominance.

Cid: "His last words were: Save me, brother. Please, save me. He kept moaning that, over and over, until he died," his tone dripping with mockery. He watched Johannes closely, searching for any sign that his words had struck a nerve.

For a moment, it seemed they had. Johannes' eyes widened, his grip on his sword tightening as a flicker of raw anger crossed his face.

Johannes: "Bastard! I'll kill you!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the field.

But just as quickly as the anger had appeared, it vanished. The tension around Johannes shifted, the air growing calm once more, as if the outburst had been nothing more than a feint. He exhaled slowly, his expression settling into one of cold composure.

Johannes: "At least, that's what you'd expect someone like me to say," his voice steady. "But, I know what you're trying to do. You want me to lose my cool, to make a mistake. It won't work."

With deliberate slowness, Johannes slid his sword back into its scabbard, the icy mist around the blade dissipating as the weapon was sheathed. He crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving Cid's.

Cid: "Keeping calm under pressure," he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I guess there's some truth to the rumors about you."

Johannes ignored the jab.

Johannes: "What I want to know more about is your magic," he said, his tone shifting to one of curiosity. "The report I read said you're supposed to be a null-mage. Yet, I just saw you use four of the six elements with a level of proficiency that suggests attunement. I suppose you somehow lied about that on the attunement tests."

Cid tilted his head, his smirk widening.

Cid: "Would you like to know how I'm doing it?"

Johannes raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical.

Johannes: "Sure," his voice dry. "But I doubt you're going to tell me."

Cid: "I don't mind telling," he replied, his tone casual, almost conversational. "It's simple, really. I'm still a null-mage. All the magic I just used didn't involve any elements."

Johannes' brow furrowed, his skepticism deepening. He studied Cid carefully, as if trying to detect a lie. What Cid had done defied everything Johannes knew about magic. He had summoned a block of earth to create a barrier, launched a fireball, broken his fall with water, and used wind-based magic multiple times. Each of these feats suggested attunement to fire, water, earth, and air—a level of versatility that would make him a gifted mage. And yet, Cid claimed he was still a null-mage. It didn't add up.

Johannes: "You expect me to believe that?" his voice tinged with disbelief. "What you've done suggests otherwise. Using four elements at that speed and power in the middle of combat? That's impossible for a null-mage, someone who has no elemental affinity."

Cid shrugged, his expression unreadable.

Cid: "Believe what you want," he said, with a shrug. "But the truth is, I'm not using the elements themselves. I'm manipulating the very concept of them—specifically, their numerical values through division and compounding. This ability doesn't have a name yet, but I think I'll call it 'reality arithmetic.'"

Johannes' eyes narrowed, his mind racing to process Cid's words. The idea was both fascinating and terrifying. If Cid was telling the truth, it meant his magic wasn't bound by the same limitations as everyone else's. He wasn't just a mage—he was something else entirely. Something that defied the very foundations of what Johannes understood about magic.

Johannes: "What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice edged with skepticism and a hint of unease. He took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the icy mist around it swirling faintly.

Cid smirked, his tone calm and almost conversational, as if he were explaining a simple mathematical equation.

Cid: "It means exactly what I just said. I can temporarily alter the numerical value of anything near me. Take the block of earth I created earlier—I compounded the size of a small cube of earth in a vertical direction to form that wall. For the wind, I divided the air pressure in a specific space, creating a vacuum that collapsed on itself and generated a shockwave. The fire? I compounded the temperature in the area to create that ball of flame. And the water? I multiplied the amount of moisture present in the air when I landed to break my fall. And throughout this entire fight, I've been multiplying my speed just to keep up with you."

Johannes' eyes widened, the implications of Cid's words sinking in like a stone dropped into still water. His grip on his sword tightened, his mind racing to reconcile what he was hearing with what he knew about magic.

Johannes: "So that giant pencil I saw break through the wall—you were multiplying its size?"

Cid: "Correct," he replied, his smirk widening. "I changed both its size and mass after I tossed it at that enforcer."

Johannes' jaw tightened, his skepticism giving way to a growing sense of concern about what he was hearing.

Johannes: "I see. But if that's true, and you can manipulate any numerical value, how am I still alive? During this whole fight, you could have divided my lifespan until it was nearly nothing, causing me to die of old age in an instant. Or reduced my speed to zero. Or even multiplied my mass until I'm crushed under my own weight. So why haven't you?"

Cid's smirk faded, replaced by a look of mild irritation, as if he'd been hoping Johannes wouldn't ask that question.

Cid: "That would make it easier," he replied, his tone calm. "But this ability has its limitations. Aside from myself, I cannot directly alter the numerical values of living beings or anything under the influence of someone else's aether."

Johannes: "So, you're saying you can only change inanimate objects?"

Cid: "Exactly," Cid replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "And even then, the effects are temporary and easily disrupted. If someone with enough aether control interferes, the changes I make can be undone. It's not as all powerful as it sounds."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of Cid's revelation hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Johannes' hand twitched, as if he were considering drawing his sword again, but he remained still. For now.

Johannes: "Then what about all the chaos? When I was called in, a number of enforcers had already died under strange circumstances before I even arrived in that study. Was that your doing too?"

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Cid's expression shifted, a flicker of something darker crossing his face.

Cid: "That was a different ability," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I refer to it as the 'calculation of cause and effect.' I can analyze the potential outcomes of my actions and set off a domino effect. By saying the right words to those I was speaking with before you arrived, along with making specific gestures and tapping the desk, I triggered a series of events that eliminated and injured some of the enforcers hiding in the shadows. I caused a few of them to trip and break their necks, and I made the explosives they were carrying detonate. I even manipulated the sniper trained on me into accidentally firing his weapon, which resulted in that little snitch Jafar getting killed."

Johannes' eyes widened in shock, his grip on his sword tightening until his knuckles turned white.

Johannes: "You… you orchestrated all of that? Just by tapping a desk and saying a few words?"

Cid shrugged, his expression calm, almost indifferent.

Cid: "It's all about probabilities and precise actions. It's not perfect, but it's effective."

Johannes took a step back, his mind reeling. The sheer scope of Cid's power was staggering, and the implications were horrifying. If Cid could manipulate reality to such an extent, what else was he capable of? The question gnawed at Johannes, his thoughts racing as he tried to process the enormity of what he'd just learned. But as he stood there, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Johannes: "Why are you telling me this?" his voice sharp and laced with suspicion. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, the icy mist around it swirling more violently.

Cid's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Cid: "Because I did my own calculations," he said, his voice calm and measured, "and found that my best opportunity to escape this situation was to honestly tell you about how my power works. It distracted you long enough for me to prepare this." As he spoke, he began to raise his hand, aether gathering at his fingertips in a faint, shimmering glow.

But Johannes was ready. In a fraction of a second, an intense wave of aether pulsed through him as he unleashed his own spell. Unbeknownst to Cid, Johannes had been preparing his own move during their conversation. He had gathered aether into a single point at the center of his body, compressing it to an almost unbearable density. The moment Cid began to raise his hand, Johannes released it all in a single, explosive burst.

The spell Johannes unleashed was one of the more advanced arcane sword techniques: Flash Burst. By gathering and releasing aether in this way, Johannes could temporarily increase his speed to an impossible degree, far beyond what the human eye could perceive. Combined with the Gixian sword draw technique—a method of drawing the blade with such precision and speed that it amplified the force of the strike—Johannes became a blur of motion, faster than thought, faster than sound.

As Flash Burst activated, Johannes' perceptions accelerated to match his newfound speed. The world around him seemed to freeze, every detail crystallizing in his mind. He could see the individual flaps of a hummingbird's wings in this state, the slow drift of dust particles in the air, and the faint shimmer of Cid's aether as it gathered around his raised hand. Time itself seemed to stretch and warp, giving Johannes an eternity to act within the span of a single heartbeat.

From Johannes' accelerated perspective, he moved toward Cid with deliberate, almost languid grace. Cid was still in the process of raising his hand, his expression calm and focused, unaware of the danger hurtling toward him. Johannes drew his blade in a single, fluid motion, the Gixian sword draw technique amplifying the speed and power of the strike. The sword cut through the air with a precision that defied belief, its icy edge gleaming as it arced upward toward Cid's arm.

Johannes watched in slow motion as the blade made contact, slicing through Cid's arm at the elbow like a hot knife through butter. The sword cut cleanly through skin, bone, flesh, and sinew, the blood spraying outward in a slow cascade. Cid's expression hadn't even changed yet; he hadn't registered the attack, let alone the pain.

But Johannes wasn't done. As his blade completed its upward arc, he twisted his wrist, the sword humming with icy energy as he brought it down toward Cid's neck. The motion was seamless, a perfect blend of speed and precision. Johannes watched in slow motion as the blade descended, its edge coming within an inch of Cid's throat. This was it—the moment he would finally avenge his brother, the moment he would end this once and for all.

The blade was less than an inch away from Cid's neck, poised to sever his head from his body in a single, decisive strike. But Johannes' years of intense training had honed his instincts to a razor's edge, and every cell in his body screamed at him to stop. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. Before he could fully process the thought, his body reacted on its own, initiating the process of disengaging and backing away.

It was just in time.

From beneath Cid's robes, a long, shadowy clawed hand emerged, stretching and bending with unnatural fluidity. It moved faster than even Johannes' accelerated perception, intercepting the blade with its palm. The clash sent sparks flying, the icy edge of Johannes' sword grinding against the shadowy hand with a sound like metal scraping stone. The force of the impact reverberated through Johannes' arm, the shockwave nearly knocking him off balance.

Before Johannes could react further, a second shadowy hand shot out from beneath Cid's robes, its clawed fingers reaching for him with terrifying speed. Thankfully, Johannes had already begun to retreat, and the hand grasped only at empty air where he had stood just a moment earlier. He leapt back thirty feet in a single motion, his boots skidding across the ground as he landed in a defensive stance.

The burst of acceleration from Flash Burst had worn off, and Johannes' perception returned to normal. The world around him seemed to return to its natural pace, the chaos of the moment crystallizing into clarity.

Then, Cid screamed.

Cid: "Augggggh!!"

The sound was raw and guttural, a primal expression of pain as his brain finally registered what had happened. His severed arm flew high into the air, blood spraying violently from the stump where it had been attached. The sight was gruesome, the crimson arc of blood stark against the sky. Cid staggered, his face contorted in agony, as two more shadowy hands emerged from beneath his robes.

Another hand emerged from under his clothing and shot upward, snatching the severed limb out of the air with uncanny precision. Then another hand clamped down on Cid's bicep, holding the stump steady as the other hand brought the severed arm back into place. A fifth shadowy hand emerged, wrapping tightly around the point where the arm had been severed. The sound of sizzling meat filled the air, accompanied by the acrid smell of burning flesh. Cid screamed again, his body convulsing as he instinctively tried to pull away, but the shadowy hands held him firmly in place.

Johannes stood frozen, his sword still in hand, as he watched the scene unfold with a mixture of fascination and horror. The shadowy hands worked with eerie efficiency, their movements precise and deliberate, as if they had done this countless times before. The sizzling sound grew louder, the air thick with the stench of charred flesh and blood. Cid's screams echoed across the battlefield.

Eventually, Cid's screams subsided into ragged gasps, his body trembling as the shadowy hands finally released him and all five hands retreated back under his robes. The severed arm had been reattached as if it had been welded back together, the flesh fused seamlessly as though it had never been cut—save for the three distinct handprints left behind, as though it had been branded onto his flesh. Yet the toll was unmistakable; Cid's face was pale and drenched in sweat, and exhaustion clouded his eyes, revealing the heavy price he had paid for this unnatural restoration.

Johannes: "What… what are you?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cid: "I'm… in a lot of pain, is what I am. So, fuck off," he replied, raising his hand once more.

Seeing Cid attempt to conjure something again, Johannes reacted instinctively, launching himself forward to stop whatever Cid was planning. But as he flew through the air toward him, everything suddenly went white, and for a moment, Johannes felt as if he were floating in nothingness. Confusion washed over him; he was suspended in a void of blinding white, and he wondered if he had died. This subliminal state lasted for ten seconds before everything snapped back to normal, and he landed hard on his knees.

Quickly regaining his footing, Johannes surveyed his surroundings. He found himself amidst a chaotic scene, surrounded by enforcers and researchers from various departments of the university, all clustered around a series of machines that seemed to be aimed at him. Cid was nowhere to be seen.

A nearby enforcer rushed toward him, concern etched on his face.

Enforcer: "Sir Johannes! Are you alright?"

Johannes: "Yeah, what's going—" he began, but was interrupted by a researcher's frantic shout.

Researcher: "This is impossible! This goes against everything we've ever known!" the scholar yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

The man, clad in a lab coat, stood beside a machine connected to a large dish that pointed directly at Johannes. He clutched some papers the machine had put out, his eyes wide with disbelief as he read the data.

Researcher: "This defies every theoretical law of nature we understand. This type of magic should be impossible, yet these readings suggest otherwise. This is the first and only instance of chronomancy! Someone has successfully used magic to manipulate time!"