The Boy who embodied the Radiant Heavens above had no idea what in the world was going on.

He had come out to the island to secure the raft before the storm swept it away, but the next thing he knew, he was being swarmed by small creatures made out of inky blackness and 2 yellow dots for eyes that he just could not hit for the life of him.

He would be the first to admit that his weapon, a wooden 'sword' that was essentially just two planks nailed together, was pretty slipshod, but the problem went beyond the quality of his equipment.

His attacks were not connecting at all. The wooden weapon simply passed through the dark creatures like they weren't even there.

It was like they were some sort of…Shadow.

They had no such problem, and he would know. Their claws tore through his clothes and cut into his flesh like they were made of paper.

All he could do was run away.

He fled to the small connecting island where he and his friends always hung out, sitting on the curved trunk of the paopu tree to watch the sunset.

No words could describe his immense relief when he found one of his friends, the Boy who bore Inner Strength as vast as the Land, on the island, staring up at the storm that was looking more like an impending apocalypse by the second.

That relief was rapidly replaced by horror when he started babbling with a fervor and madness he had never seen before and then swallowed by the tide of darkness.

He too was caught up in it, and was on the verge of drowning within its inescapable depths when a light tore through and freed him.

It manifested itself as a l̴̳̔͂a̴͙̕r̶̹͋͜͝g̶̦̘̎e̸̼̓͑ ̶̱̐͜s̵̳̏͘k̶̖͜͠e̶̗̳̽l̴̤̗͝e̶̞͕͆̍t̷̘̻̋̄ó̷̬̪n̴̗̥̐̎ ̴̙̏̓k̴͉̺͆̑ē̷̬̝y̸̮̙͋̎-̵̺̑l̶̗͇͋i̷̹͊ḳ̵͍̊͝e̸̼̟̒͘ ̴͖͙̓̏o̵̯͗ͅḇ̷̪̊j̴̺͋e̷̬͚̕͘c̴̠̟̽̏t̸̲̳̕ in his hand, an echo in the wind told him that it was called a Ḵ̵͓̜͒́̿̎̎͘e̶̱̠̱̲͍̠͓̜͊͋́y̴̢̗͖͖̟̏̊́b̴̡͚͈̦̱̊̀̍́̆̅̓l̶̨͕̙̬̜͔̖̬̫̎̉̿͋̍̍̏̎͜͠͝a̶͈͋̊̈̅̉̊͑̄̚d̸̮̜̺͉̻̪͈̓̀́̊͠ͅẻ̶̢̘̻̺̝̫ͅ, and all of his instincts were screaming that it was a weapon.

It was ridiculous, really. A ğ̴͔̖ḭ̶̗̀á̷͕͈͆ṋ̶̈́̚t̵̙͇͠ ̶̮̹̿k̶̗̲͊͐e̵̦̫̎̕ÿ̴̙̘́̉ ̶͈͗ shouldn't offer much more utility as a weapon than a wooden sword did, but he could feel the power within its almost comical form.

The shadows caught up with him, and he took a swing at them…and watched with a mix of shock and satisfaction when they burst into a dark mist when the k̶̗̲͊͐e̵̦̫̎̕ÿ̴̙̘́̉ ̶͗ cut through them like a hot knife through butter.

He had no time to savor the end of his helplessness though.

Another of his friends, the Girl who was an Endless Ocean of Light, was still somewhere on the island, and in grave danger from these creatures.

He had already lost one friend. He couldn't lose another too.

He hadn't seen her on the way here, and he had passed through the majority of this small island.

So the only place she could be was…

He spun on his heels and dashed towards the center of the island, where the entrance to their secret place was.

The creatures swarmed him with every step he took, but with the Ḵ̵͓̜͒́̿̎̎͘e̶̱̠̱̲͍̠͓̜͊͋́y̴̢̗͖͖̟̏̊́b̴̡͚͈̦̱̊̀̍́̆̅̓l̶̨͕̙̬̜͔̖̬̫̎̉̿͋̍̍̏̎͜͠͝a̶͈͋̊̈̅̉̊͑̄̚d̸̮̜̺͉̻̪͈̓̀́̊͠ͅẻ̶̢̘̻̺̝̫ͅ in hand, he was able to fend them off.

Was it just his imagination or did their numbers not seem to falter no matter how many were destroyed by each swipe of the key?

He eventually managed to break through the seemingly endless swarm and reach the hidden cave behind the waterfall, where he found his friend standing in front of the mysterious door at the back that no one could ever open.

But…something was wrong.

She was listless, lifeless, almost like a walking corpse, a far cry from her usual upbeat self.

Something was very wrong.

Then the unopenable door flew open and a black gale rushed forth from inside it with such strength that the girl was thrown towards him.

He attempted to catch her, but just as she reached him, she vanished right before his eyes.

He didn't have time to think about what had happened much longer because the wind also threw him out of the cave.

He landed on a small island that was slowing rising into the sky, towards the ball of dark energy that was at the center of the immense storm sweeping the area.

The islands that made up his home of the past 14 years were unrecognizable, either utterly ravaged by the storm or vanished from sight.

He feared for the safety of his parents, of everyone he knew.

Then the floating island trembled with a force that had nothing to do with the storm overhead.

He turned and found himself backpedalling rapidly, almost going off the edge as a pool of darkness spread out from the center of the island, and a dark creature taller than anything he had ever seen in his life climbed out of it.

It was completely different from the Shadows he had been fighting off, even leaving aside its massive size.

The Shadows could barely be called humanoid, with large round heads adorned with two antennas, which should be too heavy for their small bodies to hold up, upper limbs that ended in three claws and large flat feet.

If anything, they looked more like little imps straight out of a child's imagination.

This thing however…the only way to describe it was humanoid.

Its feet were as flat as a Shadows, but the rest of its body had clearly defined musculature, a physique that he had only seen on the physical labourers of the islands.

Its bulky arms hung past its waist all the way to its knees, ending in five clawed fingers.

Its broad torso had a huge heart-shaped hole where its stomach should be, but that did not seem to hinder it at all.

Its head was nearly obscured completely by twisting tentacles sprouting forth in a crude imitation of hair, except for two glowing yellow eyes.

Which were staring straight at him, sending shivers down his spine, fear like nothing he had ever felt before welling up within him.

He could tell just by looking that he had no hope of winning against this thing.

Still, with shaking hands, he brandished the Ḵ̵͓̜͒́̿̎̎͘e̶̱̠̱̲͍̠͓̜͊͋́y̴̢̗͖͖̟̏̊́b̴̡͚͈̦̱̊̀̍́̆̅̓l̶̨͕̙̬̜͔̖̬̫̎̉̿͋̍̍̏̎͜͠͝a̶͈͋̊̈̅̉̊͑̄̚d̸̮̜̺͉̻̪͈̓̀́̊͠ͅẻ̶̢̘̻̺̝̫ͅ, for he refused to die here, alone amd confused, with the fate of his friends unknown.

He fought valiantly, but the creature proved to be every bit as strong as he had dreaded, and then some.

Even with the Ḵ̵͓̜͒́̿̎̎͘e̶̱̠̱̲͍̠͓̜͊͋́y̴̢̗͖͖̟̏̊́b̴̡͚͈̦̱̊̀̍́̆̅̓l̶̨͕̙̬̜͔̖̬̫̎̉̿͋̍̍̏̎͜͠͝a̶͈͋̊̈̅̉̊͑̄̚d̸̮̜̺͉̻̪͈̓̀́̊͠ͅẻ̶̢̘̻̺̝̫ͅ, it did not take long for it to swat him aside like an insignificant bug.

That was certainly how he felt at the moment.

But before it could finish him off, the storm overhead finally grew too strong to be ignored, sweeping the massive creature into the glowing ball of dark energy above.

He held on for as long as he could, but with his injuries hampering him, his grip came loose too easily, and he too was sent flying just as his consciousness finally slipped away.

Aiz's eyes snapped open and she shot upwards from her sleeping position, breathing heavily and her heart pounding in her chest.

Her pajamas were cold and clung disgustingly to her skin, utterly soaked with sweat, making her grimace.

What was that?

Obviously, it was a nightmare. She had plenty of those already in the past week since she woke up in the Twilight Manor's infirmary and chose the life of an Adventurer as the newest (and youngest) member of the Loki Familia.

But they had mostly been about that day, when her parents were torn from her by the creature she was almost certain from its description alone was the same Monster that had destroyed the 2 most prominent Familias in Orario, the One-Eyed Black Dragon.

The target of her vengeance.

This one had been different.

It wasn't a nightmare of her past, but of a scene she had no recollection of whatsoever.

Islands torn apart by a great storm, unfathomable creatures that could not be harmed by conventional means…and the young man who had been in the back of her head since she woke up in Orario, like an itch she couldn't scratch.

"Sora…"

The memory of his warmth, his kindness and his promise still warmed her soul and quelled her anger and hatred in her darkest moments, but she had ultimately dismissed her encounter with him in the plane of endless skies and sea as a hallucination she had on the verge of death and tried to put it behind her to focus on her mission.

So why was she having these strange dreams now?

He looked younger than when she first saw him and did not have the same aura of indomitability around him, but she was certain it had been him she had seen in her nightmare.

And that weapon he wielded, the…

The…

She frowned.

Everything else in the dream, she could remember with vivid detail.

It had been so realistic that despite not actually being present in the dream, she felt all of the emotions he had felt.

His fear, his confusion, his panic, his sorrow, his resolve, she had experienced them first-hand.

But when she tried to think of the weapon Sora had wielded to vanquish the dark creatures, her mind just drew a blank.

She could not remember its name or its appearance, only that it had been a powerful weapon.

That could not be normal.

Maybe…she should consult someone about this nightmare of hers?

Loki…or Finn or Riveria?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she shook her head.

If she had no wish to be treated like a child, then she needed to stop acting like one, and that meant not waking them up in the dead of night because of a nightmare.

She was just trying to convince herself it had been anything more than a strange, oddly realistic dream.

She lay back in bed, trying to go back to sleep and steadfastly ignoring the wetness of her clothes or the feeling that it had not been a mere dream.

She was sure that she would eventually forget about it once her usual nightmares returned.

She was very wrong.

She continued to dream.

Her second dream turned out even stranger than the first.

A strange town that was a refuge for those whose homes had been swallowed by the dark tide.

The dark creatures appearing again and terrorizing the residents.

A small group of warriors fighting back against them, led by a gruff sword-brandishing man, Leon, and an energetic young woman with a massive throwing star, Yuffie, and supported by another young woman with kind eyes who could heal with a touch of her fingers alight with a green glow, Aerith.

A large creature made of floating armor pieces.

The short-tempered talking duck wielding a masterful array of magic, Donald, the stalwart dog-like person with human proportions who refused to wield any weapon but a shield and was no weaker for it, Goofy, and the task left to them by their missing king who they sought relentlessly and desperately.

The horrors that the dark creatures, whose name she was sure had been mentioned more than once but could not recall for the life of her, could inflict upon the world.

And the mission, far too heavy for an ordinary person to bear, that fell on Sora's shoulders as the wielder of the weapon that she likewise could not remember even though she had heard it being said out loud multiple times.

The third dream and those that came after for the past week were a little less strange, if only because they depicted something she was going through right now.

Training, because sending a teenage boy with no combat experience whatsoever on a mission to fight against endless hordes of horribly powerful, nigh invincible creatures and find a way to stop them could only be described as foolish at best.

An old, blue-robed magic user with a glimmer in his eyes that was equal parts strength and wisdom brought Sora to a dense forest, accompanied by Donald and Goofy to serve as his primary instructors, the former for the mystic arts and the latter for physical conditioning and weapons training.

The lessons they taught Sora stuck with her and she went over them again and again, hoping that she would be able to benefit from them as much as he did.

She felt as lost as Sora did as Donald lectured him on the nature of magic, preparing to beat the theory of the mystic arts into his head before they could move onto actual spellcasting.

A lot of the technical jargon flew over her head, but from what she gleaned from the lectures, magic was not something that could be used by just anyone.

It required an innate energy that not everyone was born with and even if one did possess it, there was no guarantee that they would have enough to properly cast magic, though the capacity could be increased through rigorous training.

Thankfully, Sora had a decent amount already, enough he would not need to spend additional time expending his reserves before he could cast basic spells.

However, simply having the reserves did not mean one would be able to cast any spell willy-nilly.

One's ability to use a spell effectively depended heavily on their affinity with that branch of magic.

To give an example, Donald explained his high affinity for most branches of offensive and elemental magic, which made up the bulk of his repertoire of spells, but low affinity for nearly every kind of supportive magic, of which the only one he could use reliably was the healing spell.

Having a low affinity with a particular branch of magic did not mean one would never be able to use it, unless said affinity happened to be absolutely zero, but the process of learning and mastery would be a far longer and arduous one, and would almost certainly never be able to match the sheer creativity one could display with a branch of high affinity.

To demonstrate, Donald conjured a ball of flames, the branch he possessed the highest affinity with, and proceeded to multiply them into dozens of identical fireballs floating in the air, rotated them rapidly around him to form a barrier of flames around him, combined several into much larger fireballs, shaped them into the likeness of an assortment of weaponry and caused them to rain down from the sky.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg of what he could do with fire, the rest held back for fear of destroying the entire forest.

Aiz watched and wanted, desperately wishing that the dreams would go by faster so she could get to the actual practical training, already imagining herself slinging giant bolts of lightning or great gales around.

That sort of sheer power and versatility would be invaluable in the Dungeon.

Unfortunately, it was not to be as Donald continued to drone on and on and despite his interest, Sora's eyes would occasionally glaze over, requiring the mage to repeat himself over and over for the lesson to stick.

She couldn't really blame him. The lecture, while doubtlessly essential, was incredibly dry to her, and the demonstration earlier could only help to hold their attention for so long.

For now, she had to contend oneself with the physical training regime Goofy set for Sora.

It had seemed reasonable at first glance to her, but it was only when she actually attempted it for herself that she realized how truly gruelling it was.

In spite of Sora's lack of proper training, he was still a teenage islander who spent his life on physical activities to either kill his boredom or help out around the islands, affording him a decent physique and stamina for his age.

She, on the other hand, was a 7-year-old child who in spite of the energy that one had at that age, had never done anything more physically demanding than run around a field of flowers.

She did not even get through the first training routine on Goofy's regime before she threw up, nearly giving Loki and the executives, who had no idea what she was up to, a heart attack and prompting a frantic and harsh lecture on knowing her own limits.

Since then, she had been working on a scaled down version tailored to the physical limits of a child, which drew more than a few confused looks from the rest of the Familia.

She supposed that to an Adventurer, a dedicated training regime like this would be strange. After all, the fastest way for an Adventurer to get stronger was to descend into the Dungeon and fight Monsters, accumulating Excelia which would then be translated to newly gained strength by updating their Status.

She had her doubts about its usefulness too, until Loki updated her Status on the first night after she started and caused the goddess's eyes to bulge out to a comical degree when she saw that her Strength, Endurance and Agility had actually increased.

Not by a lot at first glance, just the amount an Adventurer could expect to gain from fighting Monsters that were around their level on an average day in the Dungeon, but considering all she had done was typical physical training that even ordinary people could do, much less Adventurers, it was very good progress.

In just a week, the aforementioned 3 parameters had increased to double digits and showed no signs of slowing down, all without her taking a single step into the Dungeon.

Which was exactly what convinced her that the training Sora was undergoing was just as beneficial to her, and why she had yet to tell anyone about the dreams, unsure of how they would react.

She was convinced it was the right decision, and yet…she felt somewhat isolated, dare she say, lonely even, for having to keep something of this magnitude to herself.

And then today happened.

One of the Familia's lower level parties had set out on a quest to the Middle Floors.

None of them were High-rank Adventurers, but each of them was a veteran of the Dungeon, and they had gone down to the same floors dozens of times.

It was supposed to be a simple material gathering quest, but one of their members took a bad blow from a Monster they had battled on countless occasions that ended up hampering him for the rest of the quest, then they had bad luck with material drops which led to the rapid exhaustion of their potions, culminating with a final, unlucky encounter with a pack of Lygerfangs on the way out.

All but one member of the party was killed, their bodies left behind to be devoured messily by their killers, while the only survivor was mangled, missing his left arm from the elbow down.

And that still had nothing on what had been inflicted on his spirit.

Aiz would never be able to forget the broken, haunted look in his eyes.

They reminded her too much of how she had felt after she had lost her parents.

Guilt warred with rationality within her.

She knew that what happened to them wasn't her fault.

It wasn't like she had personally run a blade through their hearts or anything like that.

And that their story was nothing new, just another addition to the sheer number of Adventurers that had fallen in the Dungeon over the past millennium.

Yet, she couldn't help but feel that maybe if they could grow as fast as she did, if she had shared her secret with them, that if they were just a little bit stronger than they had been, maybe, just maybe they would not have met such a fate.

The conflict between logic and illogic continued well into the night, preventing her from falling asleep.

When she did finally manage to slip into a fitful slumber, she could only hope that her dreams would be enough to distract her.

Except that wasn't what happened.

Instead of the overgrown forest scenery at everlasting sunset she had gotten used to over the past week, she found herself standing atop a glass pillar surrounded by nothing but a endless void.

She looked around in confusion.

This did not seem like the continuation of the dream.

For one, she actually had a body and could move around here, whereas she had been a disembodied, stationary observer in the dreams.

She looked down at the stained glass, and choked back a sob as she noticed the portraits of her parents right next to a depiction of her, smiling brightly in the field of flowers nearby their home.

The innocence that was long gone stared back at her, a painful reminder of what she had lost that day.

She tore her gaze away from it, unable to look at it any longer.

That was when she noticed something protruding from the pillar a distance away from her.

A throne of clear glass stood at the opposite end of the pillar, and seated atop it, eyes close and posture slouched as though in a deep sleep, was a familiar brown-haired young man.

Not the young boy starting out on his long journey she had been watching in the dreams, but the young man on the cusp of adulthood she had first met in the realm of endless sea and sky.

Unlike his younger and inexperienced self, she could feel the power belied by his gentle, unassuming appearance.

She had no trouble believing that he was stronger than any of the executives, whether it was 'Braver' Finn, the speedy, nimble and cunning Pallum, 'Nine Hells' Riveria who was the strongest mage in Orario, or 'Elgarm' Gareth, who was heavyset and could tear a Monster apart with pure physical strength alone.

She even thought he was stronger than the Champion, Ottar of the Freya Familia, who was renowned as the strongest Adventurer in Orario.

And yet…she could also sense his exhaustion even from this distance.

It wasn't something physical. It was beyond bone-deep. It was as though his very soul had been worn out to its limits.

She had no doubt that what he felt was beyond any form of exhaustion she had ever experienced.

Which was why she should really not disturb him, even if this was just some weird lucid dream.

She should force herself to wake back up and drift off to the forest scenery she had been expecting, and leave him to his much needed rest.

So why was she walking towards him?

She shouldn't, she should be stopping, she should be turning around and finding a way to leave this place, likely by liberal application of her palm to her cheek.

But she couldn't help it.

His warmth, his kindness, so very much like her parents, was too compelling.

She had no idea what possessed her to walk up to his sleeping form and climb into his lap like an overly spoiled child, but the moment she settled in, it was like she was back in that field of flowers, her head in her mother's lap while her father hovered protectively over them, and she found herself utterly unwilling to part from him.

"…5 of my Familia members died today."

She didn't know what possessed her to tell him about what had happened, but once the words started coming out, she couldn't stop.

"I…didn't know any of them. To be honest, I don't know anyone but Riveria, Finn, Gareth and Loki. But…they were supposed to be my comrades. I was supposed to be going on adventures with them, but instead, they're lying down there and they'll be forgotten, just written off as more victims of the Dungeon…!"

She wasn't sure when the tears started to fall, but it soon devolved into full-blown crying.

She froze when she felt a broad, warm hand gently settle on her head.

Her bloodshot eyes shot upwards towards Sora's face.

Did she wake him up?

…No, he still seemed to be fast asleep as far as she could tell.

And yet, the hand gently combing through her hair in a comforting gesture would suggest otherwise.

She found herself being pulled into a one-armed hug, his warmth chasing away her sorrow and guilt, as though he already knew everything that had remained unsaid and was reassuring her that none of it was her fault, and that everything would be okay.

And slowly, she began to believe it herself.

She smiled as she settled against his body, drowsiness starting to set in.

She shouldn't be indulging like this. She couldn't afford to be a child any longer. Not if she wanted to save her mother.

But this was fine, right? It was just a dream after all…

Loki frowned at Aiz's sleeping form from the doorway.

She supposed it was a little creepy for her to be staring at a child, much less one that was fast asleep in the dead of night.

Any of her Familia members would have assumed she was simply up to her pervy habits once again.

At least until they saw the rare serious expression on her face.

She was not in a good mood.

5 of her children had died earlier today, and 1 was basically only alive physically.

Only time would tell if his spirit would be able to recover, but her cynical mind told her that she was more than likely going to be discharging him from the Familia by the end of the week.

They were hardly the first ones she had lost, and they would certainly not be the last, but each and every single one stung badly.

Maybe that was why she had finally decided on her course of action.

It had been two weeks since the little blonde human appeared out of an unstable portal that Loki, a master of the arcane who had nearly encyclopaedic knowledge of the mystic arts, recognized as being of a temporal nature.

Honestly, that alone should have been enough to make Loki just a little wary about letting her join the Familia.

Damn her weakness for all things cute and female, she had agreed without a second thought as soon as Aiz made the request, and now she was left wondering if she might have been too hasty.

She raised the paper that Aiz's Status was written on in her divine blood so that she could read it again, making sure for the umpteenth time that she wasn't seeing things.

Aiz Wallenstein

Level 1

Strength: I32

Endurance: I55

Dexterity: I9

Agility: I63

Magic: I0

Magic:

Ariel: Enchant-type Wind magic. Activation Chant: [Tempest]

Development Abilities:

(None)

Skills:

Blessings of the Key (Beloved Ward of the Radiant Heavens)

Nope, definitely not just her imagination.

Something was wrong with Aiz.

She was growing far too much, far too quickly.

All she had been doing was training since she joined the Familia, the executives not yet deeming her ready to actually enter the Dungeon at this point.

And yet her parameters were increasing at the same pace as the best of her children.

Maybe even faster.

She had a fairly good idea what was behind it though.

That Skill of hers.

Before, the space underneath Skills on her Status had been empty, only an incredibly faint marking that Loki had been sure she had imagined.

Until it solidified a week ago, making it clear as day to anyone who could read the Divine Language if she hadn't locked the Status.

She read the Skill's description again.

Blessings of the Key (Beloved Ward of the Radiant Heavens): Growth Acceleration. Temporarily grant a boost to all parameters. Temporarily grant resistance to all damage types. Temporarily grant a variety of Development Abilities and Skills under the appropriate circumstances. Power and effect increases in proportion to immediate danger.

Her eye twitched.

Yeah, that.

The utterly ridiculous Skill that blew literally everything else out of the water.

Skills that boosted parameters, increased resistance against some forms of damage, or granted conditional use of a Development Ability were nothing new.

Each of her executives had such Skills, like Riveria's Alf Regina, Gareth's Dvergr Enhance, or Finn's Noble Brave and Dia Fianna.

But, a single Skill that could do all of the above at the same time?

Inconceivable.

And as absurd as those were, they still weren't the most ridiculous part of the Skill.

No, that particular accolade belonged to the first part of the Skill to be described.

Growth Acceleration.

Didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant after seeing her Status.

If she was already growing this quickly just from training, one had to wonder just how much faster it would be once she started actually exploring the Dungeon.

It was almost a frightening thought.

To say nothing of the shit storm that would inevitably erupt if any other God found out about it.

Really, joining the Loki Familia was probably the best possible outcome.

Their name alone would send smaller Familias scampering away with their tails between their legs, though it probably wouldn't stop the more arrogant Gods from trying anyway.

Literally the only way she could possibly be safer was if she had joined Freya instead. The only God who couldn't be charmed by the Love Goddess and was stupid enough to go against Orario's strongest was that worthless strumpet Ishtar.

Loki looked back at Aiz's peaceful sleeping face and faltered just a little.

However, she hardened her resolve.

Skills always inevitably originated from an Adventurer's soul, their Heart.

Whether it was an immense triumph or a devastating trauma, it had to be something that defined them, their very being, their way of life.

And generally, the greater its significance, the greater the power of the resulting skill.

She had seen many Adventurers come and go.

Most were fodder that were fated to never progress beyond the Middle Floors at best, but among the minority with potential, some were defined by what they had lost, others by what they had gained, but none once had she come across someone whose life could lead to a Skill as absurd as the one she was currently investigating.

And Loki had no idea what Aiz's life had been up to this point. She adamantly refused to speak of her past, not even bothering to lie about it, simply not speaking at all.

That was why Loki was planning to use a spell to enter Aiz's Heart.

She needed to see for herself just what had given birth to this Skill.

And if it meant that Aiz was a potential threat to the Familia.

A magic circle appeared beneath her as she gathered the mind required for the spell.

Many thought that Gods were essentially no different from powerless humans under the constraints they had agreed to in order to descend to the Mortal Plane, but that was a terrible misconception.

Just because their Arcanum had been sealed did not mean they were weak, not even close.

A martial God still possessed the peerless skill and perfect body that they had cultivated over countless eons, a God of beauty was still peerless in looks, and a God as well-versed in magic as her could still cast high-level spells that would cause even the greatest mages of the mortal world to turn green with envy as easily as snapping their fingers.

And since it did not make use of even a speck of her Arcanum, old man Ouranos couldn't complain even if he sensed what she was doing.

The spell activated, and the bedroom melted away, replaced by a dark void.

She floated down towards the only source of light here, the endlessly tall cylindrical pillar of stained glass that was Aiz's Heart.

Landing on the edge of the pillar, she took a gander at what was depicted upon it.

A beautiful picture indeed.

But it couldn't hide the immense darkness lurking behind it, not from her.

Something horrible had happened, a very deep trauma that permanently shattered her innocence.

And the darkness was most profound beneath the two smaller portraits, one of a black-haired man who exuded confidence and a smiling woman who was the spitting image of Aiz herself.

Her parents, most likely.

So, her trauma originated from the loss of her parents?

No, that couldn't be it.

There were plenty of Adventurers who lived seeking vengeance for lost loved ones, and not a single one bore such a ridiculous Skill.

There had to be something else.

She walked closer…or at least tried to.

However, the moment she took a step forward, she was immediately repulsed by an invisible barrier, almost causing her to fall off the edge of the pillar if she hadn't managed to regain her balance.

She frowned, poking where she believed the barrier started with a finger and rewarded by it bouncing back with twice as much force.

Her brow furrowed deeper as she casually conjured a small flame and threw it at the barrier, and was forced to duck to not get hit when it was reflected back at her.

She frowned.

That was strange. Hearts were not usually protected, certainly not to this degree.

Gods were one thing, but the mortals of this World knew nothing of the Heart, the metaphysical concept.

No mortal, much less a child, should be able to cast such a powerful protection over their Heart.

The barrier was strong enough that it would probably take the strongest spells she could muster to even put a dent in it, and judging by how it repulsed anything that touched it, she wouldn't get off lightly if she did that either.

She peered into the barrier, trying to find any kind of weakness in it that she could exploit…

…and blinked when she caught sight of something else that shouldn't be there.

A throne made out of clear glass, almost on the complete opposite end of the pillar from her, just within the boundary of the barrier.

Her eyes shot open to the size of dinner plates as she saw Aiz, fast asleep in the lap of a brown-haired young man, whose presence exuded exhaustion, sitting in the throne in a posture that would suggest he was in an even deeper sleep…

…except that his eyes were open, as tired as they seemed, and glaring straight at her.

Loki couldn't move. She couldn't even breathe.

Her brain told her that he was weakened, not even close to his full power, whatever that may be, and her magic senses collaborated that, that he was incomplete, diminished.

Yet, every one of her carefully honed instincts was telling her she was in very, very grave danger.

And if she held any doubt in them, they promptly vanished when the man tiredly raised the hand that wasn't patting Aiz's head, and a horrifyingly familiar weapon appeared in a flash of white light and was pointed at her.

Cold sweat began to pour out of every pore on her mortal form, a force so indescribably immense she was surprised it hadn't woken Aiz up pressing down on her as she beheld a large silver key with a golden guard.

A Keyblade.

Somehow, Aiz had attracted the attention, and seemingly the favor, of a fucking Keyblade wielder.

That explained the Skill and the protection on Aiz's Heart.

Keyblade wielders could perform feats, physical, magical and otherwise, of such complete and utter bullshit that even the Gods themselves could only scream 'HAX!' in indignation and fear.

Blessings of the Key indeed.

And now she had possibly earned the enmity of the one in front of her by casually entering his ward's Dive to Heart.

She was so completely screwed.

She had no doubt that as weakened as she could tell he was, she didn't stand a chance in hell against him if he still had such an oppressive presence, even if she had access to her Arcanum.

She forced herself to calm down, not daring to move a muscle lest she did something to draw any more of his ire, and took stock of the situation.

There was really only one way out of here.

She had to convince him that she meant Aiz no harm, and really, any vague and evidently ill-conceived notion she had of disposing of the little girl had flown way out the window the moment she laid eyes on the Keyblade.

She raised her shaking arms in a gesture of surrender, trying to convey a complete lack of ill intent.

Her breath caught in her throat as seconds trickled by so slowly they might as well be hours to her.

The business end of the Keyblade remained poised squarely at her as her imagination went wild, coming up with increasingly creative ways in which she would die most painfully, ranging from a simple yet gruesome impalement to being reduced to a tiny stain by a massive array of offensive spells, to actually being wiped out of existence, a feat that only a conceptual weapon like a Keyblade could do.

She almost collapsed and started sobbing in relief when the supreme weapon was finally lowered, though pointedly not put away, and the sheer pressure threatening to crush her lightened.

She hadn't partially because her composure had yet to completely crumble, but mostly because the power behind his gaze was making it hard for her to do much of anything.

His brow was not as deeply furrowed as it was just a moment ago, but it was still very far from friendly.

Leaning the Keyblade against the side of the throne, within immediate reach should he decide he was going to use it, he raised his free hand to his lip in a shushing gesture.

Before she could react, he took hold of the Keyblade again and swung it.

Loki felt herself being flung out of the Dive to Heart and back into the physical world just in time to see her magic circle shatter and dissipate.

She slumped to the floor, breathing hard, barely believing she had actually gotten out of that alive.

She thought back to his final gesture before forcing her out.

Anyone else might have assumed that he was telling her not to make any noise and wake Aiz up, but Loki was among the most perceptive of the Gods and could easily read between the lines and understand his real message.

'Do not speak of my presence to anyone else.'

Well, something along those lines.

And she had every intention of abiding.

She had no interest in committing suicide with additional steps.

Not to mention, news of a Keyblade wielder was sure to attract way more attention than Aiz.

Keyblade wielders tended to get either one of two reactions from the Gods, complete abject fear, or pure unfettered interest.

If the word of a Keyblade wielder got out and that he was in a weakened state, those of the first category, like old man Ouranos and other dusty traditionalists, would seek him out to kill him no matter the cost and those of the second, like herself, would resort to any means to acquire him for themselves.

And well, she technically already had him, in the form of Aiz's skill.

Now that she knew that Aiz was not a ticking time bomb, she was going to do everything in her power to keep her in the Familia.

If she had the favor of a Keyblade wielder, Aiz's potential was limitless.

Forget surpassing her executives, or even Ottar, she might very well surpass the legendary captain and ace of the Zeus Familia, Heracles, who had been the world's only Level 9 before his untimely demise at the hands of the One-Eyed Black Dragon, a milestone none had reached before or since.

She might be the one to lead the Familia to clear the Dungeon and finally complete the Grand Quest that Orario had set out on so long ago.

The highest possible achievement an Adventurer could ever hope for.

It would never be anything more than a pipe dream to most, but with Aiz, the Loki Familia might very well pull it off and go down forever in history.

Just the thought of lording that over her fellow Gods brought a smile to her face.

A soft whisper in the back of her head also reminded her that if the Dungeon was cleared, she would never have to lose any more children to that fucking death trap, and she had to admit, it only served to add to her motivation.

Hm, she was going to have to rethink all of her plans.

Aiz was now going to be the key to everything, and her plans would need to change to reflect that.

Hm, commissioning personal equipment for her…would be a little much right now.

She hadn't even taken her first step into the Dungeon yet.

Showing such blatant favoritism without cause would only draw ire and jealousy from her other children, and confusion from everyone else.

Let her reach Level 2 first, then no one would have room to complain.

It likely wouldn't be long given her current pace. Loki would bet good money on her reaching it in under a year.

She was going to be shattering a lot of records.

Loki picked herself off the ground and moved towards the door.

Ah, and she was going to have to tell her children to leave Aiz alone about her growth rate, at least for now.

Couldn't let one careless slip spoil everything after all.

Loki left the room quietly, a cunning smile growing on her face as she thought about how much amusement she was going to be deriving from this for a very long time.

Aiz awoke from the best sleep she ever had since that day, feeling completely refreshed, not a single ache or bruise left over from the previous day's training.

And a comforting warmth lingering on the top of her head.

She gingerly touched the spot where she knew Sora's broad hand had been patting her.

How odd. After all, it had just been a dream, right?

And yet…it felt so real.

The dreams she had been having of him the past week had also felt different from her usual dreams or even her nightmares.

Despite their fantastic nature, they had a certain…substance to them that set them apart from normal dreams.

But last night had been different.

It was just like the first time she had seen him.

She had actually interacted with him.

Impossible. It seemed completely impossible, but…

...She had to know.

"Sora?" She whispered, uncertainty and hope intertwined in her tone.

One, two…ten seconds passed without anything happening, not so much as a sign or a hint.

She sighed in disappointment.

It was just her wishful thinking after all.

But as soon as that thought crossed her mind…

WARMTH

A familiar warmth that she was certain she had nothing to do with spread throughout her body.

Hope blossomed once more.

She spoke again.

"Sora?"

WARMTH

The warmth grew in intensity, and now she was sure she wasn't just imagining things.

"…You're here with me, aren't you? You…kept your promise."

She smiled as the warmth continued to pulse and radiate pleasantly, like the sun shining down on a mild, beautiful day in that flower field.

"Thank you."

She rose from her bed with a smile, ready to greet a new day in Orario.

So, uh…you know what I said last chapter about no more cryptic bullshit? Yeah, I lied about that.

I was initially planning on Sora being awake and actively training Aiz from the get go, but I couldn't make it work, so I ended up putting him to sleep a la Ventus for at least a while.

That's why this chapter is so late. It should have been up last month, but I got through 6000 words on the first draft before discarding and rewriting it.

Anyway, since Aiz is not as obsessed with revenge as she was in canon, she doesn't have Avenger. So in order to ensure that she doesn't fall behind and to showcase the OP-ness of Kingdom Hearts bullshittery, I gave her what is essentially a better Liaris Freese. The growth acceleration is not as fast as Bell's, so she won't be levelling up in a month, but she does get a lot of Sora's abilities and skills translated into Danmachi format.

(This might actually make it harder for her to level up because she would need even stronger enemies than normal to challenge her.)

That's it from me.

See you next chapter.