“Jory Finch, you’re finally getting a taste of the higher-level inconvenient reality!” “Aww, so adorably menacing, I want to dissipate it.” “Excuse me, could the individual above please maintain some decorum?” The Conduit’s Nexus, usually a haven for discussions on esoteric Aetheric artifact repair techniques and the occasional grumble about Guild bureaucracy, had erupted into a cacophony of digital cheers and morbid curiosity. The usual lurkers, the ones who only materialized to offer obscure historical tidbits or critique his soldering methods, were now out in force, buzzing with what could only be described as a gleeful, almost celebratory atmosphere. Jory Finch, currently standing in the perpetually flickering descent-shaft of his Spire-City building, felt a familiar knot of exasperation tighten in his gut. [Conduit Kaelen: … Perhaps an Aether-Snare is in order?] Jory stared at the message on his wrist-mounted data-slate, then up at the undulating, misty form of the Phantasm-Shade hovering impassively before him. His jaw tightened. An Aether-Snare. Of course. Because when faced with an impossible, malevolent entity from a sub-level that shouldn’t exist, the logical, *convenient* solution was always to *capture* it. And then what? Use it as a paperweight? A very clingy, drooling paperweight? [JoryFinch_AetherFix: Are you absolutely certain it won’t detonate if I attempt that?] He watched the three dots on the screen flicker for a moment, then vanish as Kaelen, his usual sparring partner in online Aetheric debates, went back to whatever high-octane training regimen he was undoubtedly engaged in. Typical. Offer the ill-advised suggestion, then abandon the poor soul stuck with the consequences. Jory sighed, tucking his data-slate back into his utility vest. Gathering what remained of his rapidly dwindling patience, he shot the Phantasm-Shade a glare that, under normal circumstances, would have had a lesser Aether-construct self-repairing its optical sensors out of sheer fright. This particular entity, however, merely pulsed with an unnerving, happy-go-lucky luminescence. His data-slate buzzed again. Another message. The ID, ‘Matron Elara’, was somewhat familiar. Right. His landlord. The one who started this whole inconvenient debacle with her reports of flickering lights and impossible sub-levels. [Matron Elara: Judging by its… playful disposition, it seems to be quite fond of you!] Jory stared at the message, then back at the Phantasm-Shade, which had just elongated a tendril of dark mist in his direction. Fond. He thought for a long moment, trying to recall if Elara had ever shown any particular affinity for the grotesque, the inconvenient, or the potentially soul-sucking. No. Her primary affinity was for timely rent payments and the impeccable maintenance of communal Aetheric conduits. This was new. [JoryFinch_AetherFix: You classify this as ‘fondness’? It clearly desires to consume my entire Aetheric essence!] He hammered out the response with more force than strictly necessary, his internal disbelief growing by the second. To punctuate the point, and perhaps to shame the collective voyeurism of the Conduit’s Nexus, he quickly attached a live feed. [JoryFinch_AetherFix: (Live Aether-Projection)] The projection showed, in stark, undeniable detail, the Phantasm-Shade – an entity composed entirely of swirling, inky vapor with two enormous, luminous white eyes – regarding him with what could only be described as an unsettlingly enthusiastic expression. Its form, less solid than a cloud but more defined than smoke, was currently extruding a long, prehensile wisp of darkness. The wisp, having navigated the space between them with unsettling agility, was now making a determined effort to slurp its way across Jory’s cheek. He could feel a faint, clammy residue where the spectral tongue had been. “Quit licking, you… you insubstantial nuisance!” Jory snapped, wiping the phantom slime from his face with the back of his hand. “Give me something that looks less like an imminent existential threat!” The Phantasm-Shade, to its credit, paused. Its two luminous eyes blinked, then narrowed in what Jory could only interpret as an attempt at a conspiratorial grin. With a sudden burst of spectral energy, it drifted closer to the data-slate, its bulbous, unblinking eyes entirely filling the Aether-projection, obscuring Jory and the rest of the descent-shaft from view. The chat group, he imagined, was having a field day. *** High above, in the shimmering, sun-drenched upper tiers of Spire-City Apex, within one of the Grand Conclave’s Arcane Council Sanctums – a cavernous training chamber humming with contained Aetheric energy – Kaelen stifled a chuckle. He leaned back against the hardened Aether-steel wall, his own wrist-mounted data-slate held aloft, its screen displaying the now-eclipsed Aether-projection. The image of Jory’s exasperated face, followed by the sheer, unadulterated *gloom* of the Phantasm-Shade’s close-up, was simply too much. “Hey, focus on your resonance patterns!” a sharp voice cut through the ambient hum. Aric, renowned Arch-Wielder and scion of an ancient Aethelgard lineage, detached himself from the colossal Stone-Behemoth he’d been meticulously calibrating. The Stone-Behemoth, a construct of animated crystal and ore, shimmered with internal Aetheric light, its massive, multi-faceted form radiating quiet power. Aric himself was a picture of controlled intensity: dark, close-cropped hair, a striking Guild pendant resting against his chest, and eyes that missed nothing. Kaelen, a young man with a generally affable demeanor, tried to compose himself. “What’s got you grinning like that, then?” Aric asked, narrowing his gaze at Kaelen’s mirth. “Just found… a new Aetheric anomaly streamer,” Kaelen managed, a smile still playing on his lips. “Looks like he’s trying to ‘tame’ a nascent Specter-Wraith.” Aric hopped lightly down from the Stone-Behemoth’s shoulder, a feat that, while seemingly effortless, spoke volumes of his control over Aetheric movement. He strode over, glancing at the data-slate. His eyes, typically cool and analytical, lingered on the obscured projection of the Phantasm-Shade. “This Phantasm-Shade,” he mused, a hint of professional curiosity in his tone, “it shows… decent potential for Aetheric integration.” Kaelen looked up, genuinely surprised. Aric’s commendation was rare, reserved for only the most exceptional Aetheric manifestations. Arch-Mentor Valerius, when first observing Aric’s prodigious talent, had remarked that his true genius lay in his unparalleled ability for “Aetheric nurturing,” coaxing forth the hidden capacities of any construct or entity. If Aric, of all people, saw potential in Jory’s inconvenient Phantasm-Shade, then this was far more than just a passing oddity. “He’s primarily a… a repair and identification specialist, though, not a combat Weaver,” Aric shrugged, his dismissive tone returning. “Why would anyone watch his… ‘anomaly streams’ when they could be observing live Grand Conclave Ascendant matches?” Kaelen, despite Aric’s usual disdain for anything less than pure, high-stakes Aetheric combat, found himself defending Jory. “It may be a casual stream, but his intuitive command skills are, frankly, better than most mid-tier Aetheric Wielders.” He gestured to the data-slate. “And isn’t the Arcane Council’s Aetheric Projection Matrix tech already being utilized in these… interactive simulations?” He paused, a hopeful glint in his eye. “Who knows, before long, we might be able to engage in full-spectrum Aetheric duels online!” “Hmph.” Aric’s eyes sharpened, a competitive glint extinguishing the earlier disinterest. He smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Even if it’s merely a digital simulacrum, Kaelen, I won’t tolerate losing to you.” *Haven’t you lost enough already?* Kaelen thought, a silent, internal sigh of long-suffering friendship. He chuckled awkwardly. “Anyway, let’s get back to training!” He tapped his data-slate, preparing to resume his own resonance exercises. Just then, his data-slate vibrated again. A new message. Kaelen glanced down, a wider smile spreading across his face. “He actually… he actually *captured* the Phantasm-Shade.” Aric, who had resumed his watchful stance over the Stone-Behemoth, crossed his arms. “Invite me to that Conduit’s Nexus group.” His tone was flat, devoid of emotion. Kaelen blinked. “You don’t… you don’t even engage with casual network streams.” “I am merely… observing a developing anomaly,” Aric replied, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “It’ll pass the time.” Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “Just do it, will you?” Aric snapped, the mask of indifference cracking just slightly. “My time is valuable.” “Fine, fine. No need to unleash a Spire-wide Aetheric surge on my account.” Kaelen sighed, tapping a few commands to send the invitation. From across the Sanctum, a burst of compressed Aetheric energy signaled the continuation of their sparring. “Does that include assaulting other Wielders? Spark-Sprite, unleash!” “Stone-Behemoth, Seismic Rend!” *** Late at night, in a perpetually stalled, mysteriously re-routed descent-shaft, encountering a sentient, drooling Phantasm-Shade typically presented one with three practical options: * **A.** Pretend not to see it, calmly walk out, and discreetly report an immediate Aetheric systems purge to your Guild Overseer. * **B.** Casually engage it in conversation, perhaps commenting on the alarming naivety of today’s younger Aetheric Conduits while attempting to subtly back away. * **C.** Trust in the old adage that true courage causes spectral entities to spontaneously go on permanent vacation. Jory Finch, however, in his characteristic manner of embracing the utterly impractical and inconvenient, chose option D— “You dare to haunt *me*?” he roared, his voice echoing unnaturally in the confined space. He waved his hands wildly, improvising on the fly. “By the latent energies of the Grand Spire and the fundamental principles of Aetheric stability… I invoke… the… the power of the Resonant Harmony! Eat my Aether-Snare!” Phantasm-Shades, despite their terrifying appearance in hastily produced B-grade holodramas, were fundamentally Aetheric entities. Scientific, if inconveniently so. And like all quantifiable Aetheric phenomena, they were susceptible to the basic principles of Aether-capture. Thus, the Phantasm-Shade, caught off guard by Jory’s sheer audacity and the unceremonious deployment of the Aether-Snare – a specialized containment device he’d reluctantly acquired from his System – transformed into a flash of incandescent scarlet. It condensed, shrinking rapidly, before being drawn into the whirling vortex of the Aether-Snare. The spherical device pulsed once, twice, then a third time, before settling into a steady, soft thrum, its internal light now a reassuring, contained green. It dropped to the grimy floor of the descent-shaft with a gentle *clink*. Jory let out a shaky sigh of relief, his heart hammering against his ribs. He bent down, carefully picking up the Aether-Snare. The warmth radiating from it was unsettling, a constant reminder of the pulsating spectral entity now contained within. “Keeping a Phantasm-Shade, huh,” Jory muttered, staring at the inert sphere with a peculiar mix of bewilderment and resignation. “Well, I suppose it could be… interesting. In a deeply inconvenient, life-altering kind of way.” He paused, then added, almost defensively, “I mean, their evolved form, a Specter-Wraith… it’s kind of… conceptually efficient, right?” He knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that while a Specter-Wraith might be depicted as aesthetically pleasing in animated Aether-scrolls, the reality was likely far less charming. His immediate plan to simply rationalize away the entire Sub-Level Beta incident, report a minor Aetheric cascade, and go back to his quiet life of artifact repair had, quite obviously, imploded. He released the Phantasm-Shade again, just to confirm. A swirling cloud of dark mist billowed from the Aether-Snare, coalescing instantly into those two enormous, luminous white eyes and a gaping maw revealing rows of alarmingly sharp, pointed teeth. The entity floated happily behind him, casting an impossibly deep shadow over his head, its spectral laughter a silent, maniacal echo in the enclosed space. Jory looked up, staring directly into the Phantasm-Shade’s cavernous mouth and its gleaming teeth as it narrowed its luminous eyes and extended its long, red, spectral tongue. It made another determined pass, leaving a fresh trail of clammy residue across his jaw. He wiped the phantom slobber off his face, his internal monologue veering wildly between cynical pragmatism and utter despair. [Congratulations, Host! Achievement unlocked: ‘It’s Gotta Be You!’] [Achievement Description: Capture any foundational Aetheric Entity. Reward: 500 Aetheric Resonance Points] Jory merely grunted at the System notification. A foundational Aetheric Entity. Great. Just what he needed. His life, which until recently had revolved around the predictable hum of aetheric conduits and the precise calibration of arcana-mechanical gears, was now apparently a hero’s journey, whether he liked it or not. Looking closely at the Phantasm-Shade again, he noted that beyond the huge eyes and the teeth, it was, fundamentally, just a dark, amorphous fog. Within his tolerable range, just barely. Although his original, much more sensible plans of cultivating a docile, aesthetically pleasing Aether-Sprite had been spectacularly derailed, he now, inexplicably, had a new, terrifying, and utterly unwelcome path laid out before him: horror-streamer specializing in unmanageable entities (crossed out, furiously, in his mental ledger). Plus, he supposed, he could always use the Phantasm-Shade to inconvenience particularly annoying members of the Arcane Council at night. A petty thought, perhaps, but a comforting one. The Phantasm-Shade, seemingly oblivious to Jory’s internal turmoil and nascent plans for its deployment in acts of minor revenge, floated happily in mid-air. With a sudden *CRACK*, the descent-shaft lights flickered back on, bathing the space in a dull, sterile glow. The lift began its slow, grinding ascent, leaving Sub-Level Beta, and its inconvenient truths, behind. As the descent-shaft creaked upwards, Jory recalled the Phantasm-Shade back into its Aether-Snare, the sphere growing warm again in his hand. He began to contemplate, despite himself. “If it evolves into a Specter-Wraith, its active Aetheric resonance would be quite formidable.” He stopped. “Wait, why do I even need formidable active Aetheric resonance? I fix things, I don’t fight things.” He shook his head, then, a flicker of his usual pragmatic cynicism returning, mused, “Well, I suppose the Phantasm-Shade could always be a rather… unique mascot for my Aether-artifact repair livestreams…” [You have a new message] [Conduit Kaelen has added ‘Arch-Wielder Aric’ to the Conduit’s Nexus chat group] Jory startled, nearly dropping the Aether-Snare. He stared at the notification, then at the profile of ‘Arch-Wielder Aric’ with a sensation of profound, utter confusion. This guy… could it truly be *the* Arch-Wielder Aric? The Grand Conclave Ascendant Champion, renowned across Aethelgard as the ‘Nurturing Legend’ for his unparalleled ability to cultivate Aetheric potential in even the most dormant of entities? No way—it really was him. The profile pic, austere and official, left no room for doubt. Jory recalled the special Arch-Mentor scrolls detailing Aric’s meteoric rise; how he had taken over the Viridian Sanctum and within less than a year, had raised a team of Aetheric constructs averaging resonance levels of seventy. His own paltry attempts at Aetheric self-improvement, which mostly involved trying to identify obscure conduit failures, seemed laughably inefficient by comparison. *That’s some dedication*, Jory thought, a grudging respect mixed with dread. After Jory had posted that live Aether-projection, the Conduit’s Nexus group chat had predictably devolved into a frantic discussion on the optimal methods for ‘raising a Phantasm-Shade.’ “Jory, are you aiming for a toxic-essence focused Specter-Wraith build?” “No, I think it’s better if a Specter-Wraith focuses on its pure spectral core!” “No, why do you keep saying ‘No’?” Just as the debate threatened to spiral into a full-blown Aetheric theoretical disagreement, a new message flashed. [Group Member ‘Arch-Wielder Aric’ has shared a file] [Phantasm-Shade Cultivation & Integration Guide.AEC] The chat group exploded. “Wow, he really is a legend!” “Even Arch-Wielder Aric is following JoryFinch_AetherFix!? I’m completely blown away!” “That’s professionalism.jpeg!” After posting the comprehensive data-file, Aric, true to his aloof reputation, went back to lurking, effectively hiding his unparalleled prowess behind the digital veil. Jory, however, stared at the shared document in the chat with a profoundly complex expression. If it was a cultivation manual by Arch-Wielder Aric, the ‘Nurturing Legend’ himself, its expertise and accuracy were undoubtedly top-notch. Irrefutable, even. After an intense internal debate, a silent battle between his ingrained cynicism and the inescapable reality of his situation, Jory sighed deeply, a long, drawn-out sound of resignation that echoed in the now-moving descent-shaft. “I never wanted to be a Wielder…” he mumbled, staring at the screen. He wanted to repair conduits, not cultivate spectral entities. He wanted a comfortable, independent living, not grand destiny and inconvenient power. He wanted quiet evenings, not comprehensive training regimens for entities that licked him. Then, with a grimace, he opened [Phantasm-Shade Cultivation & Integration Guide.AEC].

The Unsolicited Training Regimen