The rumors, persistent and irritating as a static shock from an unshielded power conduit, continued to circulate through the Conduit circles. Talk of the elusive Aether-Wisp from Aether-Nexus 7 and “that man”—which, to Jory’s growing dismay, clearly meant him—was apparently all anyone in the lower tiers of the Ascent Trials could chatter about. Some speculated that this particular Wisp, still technically classified as a beginner-tier manifestation, had somehow been tethered to a top-tier Aether-Weaver looking to sandbag in the initial stages. A cynical, though not entirely implausible, theory, Jory thought. Others, more charitably, suggested that the Wisp was simply benefitting from a string of particularly weak first-round opponents, making its early victories seem more impressive than they actually were. Jory knew this to be somewhat true; his Wisp *had* faced some spectacularly incompetent contenders. Still others, usually the ones who wore matching Guild robes and carried clipboards, insisted it was all clever hype orchestrated by the event organizers, a narrative designed to drum up interest in what was usually a dreary affair. Jory suspected a bit of all three, with a healthy dose of pure, unadulterated dumb luck on his part. Regardless of the truth, this stubbornly intriguing Aether-Wisp, which Jory still didn’t quite have a proper name for beyond “the Wisp” or “the blasted thing,” continued to inexplicably raise the profile of the “Conduit Challenge” group stage. This, of course, brought a greasy, satisfied smile to the face of the overseeing Guild Master, who likely saw potential for more revenue streams in the accidental phenomenon Jory had become. Jory, meanwhile, just saw a monumental inconvenience escalating with every undeserved 'Merit Point' notification. To Jory’s bewildered observation, the Wisp, apparently taking its new, unwanted celebrity status seriously, dedicated itself to diligent training each day. It hovered through the cramped living space, practicing its ephemeral movements, phasing through Jory’s antique data-slate, and generally making a nuisance of itself. According to Jory’s antiquated Essence Codex, a clunky device he’d inherited from his long-departed aunt, the Wisp hadn't actually developed any *new* inherent abilities. However, it had, in its own inscrutable way, thoroughly absorbed all the foundational knowledge from the tattered copy of the *Beginner’s Aether-Weaving Manual* Jory kept meaning to discard. Jory idly wondered if the Wisp’s continued evolution – a transformation into a more stable, powerful “Umbral Conduit,” the Codex called it – was what was holding back its deeper potential. He just hoped it would evolve into something less... *eager*. In the meantime, the very Aether-Cast videos that had inadvertently launched Jory into this unwelcome spotlight—the “Illusory Echo, Shield-Weave, Static-Shock” combo and the utterly baffling “Evasion Team” showcase—continued to gain traction. The viewership numbers on his personal Specter-Feed, a channel he’d barely bothered to maintain before, pushed past the 100,000 subscriber mark. Jory stared at the notification on his comm-pad with a mixture of disbelief and growing dread. He’d barely posted a dozen times, mostly blurry footage of his Wisp accidentally knocking over his nutrient paste dispenser. _Ding! Mission “I’m Not Just a Pretty Face” completed!_ _Mission Objective: Reach the goal of 100,000 subscribers._ _Reward: 1,000 Merit Points, Random Skill Lv1, Weave-Shard “Illusory Echo” x1_ Jory blinked. “Illusory Echo”? He remembered vaguely sketching out a concept for a distraction technique, a sort of spectral doppleganger, during a particularly boring Aetheric Theory class. He’d never thought it would actually manifest as a skill. The Random Skill Lv1 turned out to be “Synthetics Crafting Lv1.” The description, as unhelpful as ever, stated: _Improve your crafting skills, including material manipulation and thermal regulation. (Your crafted reagents now carry a familiar resonance)._ Jory, who considered pre-packaged nutrient paste the pinnacle of culinary achievement, merely groaned. Great. Now he could accidentally infuse his dreadful concoctions with… whatever ‘familiar resonance’ meant. Probably just made them taste vaguely of stale socks. The newly acquired data-shard, a translucent crystal barely larger than his thumb, hummed faintly with latent energy. It contained, Jory noted, detailed instructions for manifesting an Illusory Echo, comprehensive training methods, and practical applications for different Aether-Wisps. Apparently, simpler, foundational techniques like this particular echo could be absorbed and integrated within three standard cycles with the help of an appropriate Weave-Shard. The official Guild-sanctioned Weave-Shards were endlessly reusable, a key selling point, as bootleg versions often contained corrupt data or, worse, dangerous omissions that could destabilize an Aether-Wisp’s essence. Jory, ever the pragmatist, had always opted for official Guild tech, even if it meant paying exorbitant credit fees. Investing in functional education, even for an accidental energy manifestation, was apparently essential, as the Guild’s endless propaganda loops frequently reminded everyone. Instead of attempting to decipher the shard’s contents himself, which frankly sounded like an exhausting endeavor, Jory simply handed the humming data-shard to the Wisp. “Here,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Figure it out. Ask me if you don’t understand, I guess.” He half-expected the Wisp to ignore him, or perhaps try to absorb the shard itself and become permanently corrupted. The Wisp, a swirling mass of shadowy mist with two unsettlingly bright eyes, hesitated for a moment. It emitted a soft, questioning _“Gengarrr?”_ that somehow conveyed both nervousness and eagerness. Then, it carefully took the data-shard in its ethereal form, plugged it into Jory’s ancient data-pad with a surprisingly delicate tendril, and, with a flick of its translucent tongue, maneuvered the stylus to open the relevant file. Opening the file titled “#092 Wisp Designation,” the Wisp settled into an almost studious posture, its form condensing slightly as it focused. On the data-pad screen, a holographic projection of another, identical Wisp executed the Illusory Echo technique. It split its black, swirling mist into two distinct entities, forming two grinning, ethereal copies. The paler, less substantial one vanished after blocking a single, simulated energy burst. _“Gengarrr!”_ The Wisp nodded thoughtfully, a spark of understanding in its glowing eyes. No wonder Jory had told it to study solo; this was simple enough. It was almost condescendingly straightforward. Jory, meanwhile, was already regretting his offhand comment about asking for help, bracing himself for an onslaught of incomprehensible questions. Excited, the Wisp somehow manifested a phantom stylus and began sketching its burgeoning ideas onto a nearby blank synth-sheet: “_I could use Illusory Echo to continuously cast Will-o-Wisp for tactical distraction... I could distract enemies with it and then launch a sneak attack… Or perhaps…_” Before Jory knew it, the Wisp had filled an entire page with increasingly complex diagrams and illegible annotations. Its form, usually a vibrant, swirling black, began to pale, its bright eyes dimming. It looked utterly drained, the spectral stylus wavering in its grasp. This Illusory Echo technique was apparently more challenging than expected. Jory watched, a flicker of genuine concern replacing his usual apathy, as the Wisp paused, looking from its complex diagrams to Jory, then back again. Should it ask its exasperated tether-weaver for help? Or maybe there was another approach it hadn’t considered yet? Taking what Jory assumed was a deep, ethereal breath, the Wisp somehow rolled two potent Essence Cubes into its form with a swift, almost practiced motion. Then, it downed a bottle of concentrated Aether-Vim in one gulp, the glowing liquid vanishing into its insubstantial essence. In an instant, the Wisp’s eyes flared with renewed intensity, its shadowy form deepening. It was fired up, ready to continue learning. Jory sighed. So much for a quiet evening. That evening, Jory’s Aether-Cast caused an unprecedented stir across the Spire-Cities. First, it was his inaugural stream since the infamous “Evasion Team” video had gone viral, drawing in a crowd eager for more accidental mayhem. Second, and perhaps more significantly, it was his unceremonious face-reveal debut. Viewership numbers, Jory noted with a dull throb in his temple, soared past a million concurrent watchers. A million. For him. It was absurd. On camera, Jory, with his perpetually disheveled hair, the faint lines of cynicism around his eyes, and a jawline that had apparently captivated half the Arcane Council’s junior apprentices, propped his chin on his hand. He quietly watched the game screen, a picture of detached contemplation. Apparently, this was interpreted as “timeless appeal,” sparking hearts regardless of gender or species. Jory, for his part, was just trying not to fall asleep. But the moment he spoke, the carefully constructed calm of his on-screen persona shattered. “How dare you roar at me?” Jory bellowed, his voice cracking slightly with indignation. “Inferno-Heart, roar even louder, you overgrown spark-mop!” “Damn it, it missed again?! I’m about to explode here!” he yelled a few minutes later, flailing his hands dramatically. Tonight, Jory was the epitome of bad luck. Despite his Wisp’s seemingly flawless maneuvers and Jory’s surprisingly accurate, if belligerent, predictions, every other attack missed its mark. His opponent, a smug individual named 'ZephyrGlide,' scored critical hits in a relentless succession, including multiple infuriating “Shield-Weave” defenses that thrilled the rapidly expanding audience. Jory felt the familiar prickle of heat behind his eyes, the early warning sign of an oncoming headache. “I can’t take this anymore!” read one frantic message scrolling across his chat feed. “Is this a full-course meal right from the start?” another chimed in, using the popular idiom for a spectacular loss. “This is one feast after another!” After a long, humiliating night, Jory’s rank in the lower tiers actually fell. Yet, the stream itself was filled with joy and laughter, the atmosphere inexplicably alive with good vibes. Jory’s ineptitude, it seemed, was highly entertaining. Though his gameplay had devolved into a truly magnificent mess, the gifts and viewership numbers broke all previous Specter-Feed records. The Credits notifications were coming in so fast they blurred. Jory sighed, rubbing his temples. “Stop donating, seriously!” He muttered, his voice barely audible over the digitized sound effects of incoming tips. “Thanks to ‘Finch’s Resplendent Fans’ for the Aether-Burst… Mods, please ban the guy spamming Aether-Bursts, this is getting ridiculous.” He paused, squinting at the screen. “How many times do I have to say this? I’m *really* a skill-based streamer!” The chat erupted in a fresh wave of laughter and sarcastic emojis. Even though he ended the stream in a haze of embarrassment, the entertainment value had clearly been explosive. Jory, to his utter bewilderment, raked in nearly 5,000 Credits in tips and gained about 300 additional Merit Points. His comm-pad was vibrating continuously, threatening to overheat. The Fortune’s Weave prize pool, Jory recalled, didn’t just contain Aether-Wisp specific items. It apparently included such utterly bizarre non-Aetheric prizes as an archived schematic for a long-decommissioned Spireship, or a life-sized Holo-Bear plush. Jory’s ten-pulls, however, usually yielded items useful only to his Wisp, and tonight was no exception. It was almost as if the system was actively conspiring to force him deeper into this unwanted lifestyle. _Ten-Pull Results: Luminescent Glyph-Block x1, Sparkling Aether-Dew x2, Vigor-Orbs x4, Aether-Vim x3_ The ten-pull had only yielded one purple-quality Luminescent Glyph-Block, but it was apparently worth 500 Merit Points in the system store, so it was still, annoyingly, a small win. Among the other items, “Sparkling Aether-Dew” was a carbonated nutrient drink, similar to a soda, while the “Vigor-Orbs” were a popular item among Aether-Weavers. They helped Wisps recover from move fatigue, thus theoretically increasing their training time. “Once made into Energy Infusions, it should help with the Wisp’s fatigue,” Jory murmured, a faint echo of his Synthetics Crafting skill flaring in his mind. He was actually *thinking* about crafting something for the Wisp. This was a new, and deeply concerning, development. When he returned to his cramped living space, he found the Wisp precisely where he’d left it: hovering intently, its newly acquired phantom stylus still scratching furiously at the synth-sheet, taking notes. Its form, however, was still faded, almost translucent with exhaustion. Seeing Jory, the pale-faced Wisp looked up, managing a weak, wobbly grin that conveyed a disturbing amount of pride. “Whoa! Are you overworking yourself?” Jory asked, genuinely surprised. He’d never seen the thing look so… fragile. _“Gengarrr!!”_ The Wisp’s response was a low growl, its bright eyes bloodshot, but its determination was palpable. It was not, Jory noted, a 'no.' Then, with a low, shimmering moan that vibrated through the air, a misty, pale form separated from the Wisp’s shadow. It coalesced, taking the precise shape of another grinning Aether-Wisp, an exact, if slightly fainter, duplicate of the original. This newly manifested “Illusory Echo” blended seamlessly into the deeper shadows of the room, settling by the Wisp’s side, a silent, unblinking sentry. Jory stared, his jaw slack. The Wisp, noticing Jory’s utterly astonished look, let out a dark, satisfied chuckle that seemed to ripple through the air itself. At the same moment, the Illusory Echo, still half-hidden in the shadows, flared with an eerie, internal glow, almost like a suppressed pulse of energy. “This is…” Jory swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “…an Illusory Echo attack?” The words, half-question, half-declaration, hung heavy in the air, echoing the widening chasm between Jory’s cynical detachment and the escalating, increasingly magical reality he was being dragged into.

Aether-Casts, Echoes, and Unwanted Attention