The dawn sky was still stained indigo. They left Kazalka—a small fortress town at the eastern edge of Vana's Veil—before daybreak. The old innkeeper had wrapped bread and dried meat for them. "Fire won't attract insects in the forest, but watch out for spirit intoxication," he'd said before closing the door. The three walked through the wet grass of morning, leaving the main road behind. kicked a small stone at his feet. It rolled away and disappeared into the grass. "The air feels different already," "We're still outside the Veil," Luna withdrew a slender instrument from the leather pouch at her waist. A spirit density meter—an observation tool provided by the Life Spirit Academy of Kanaris that could quantify atmospheric spirit concentration. The needle on the scale swayed slowly. "Current spirit density is 1.3 times the baseline for flatland. We're approaching the edge of the Veil," "What's 1.3 times like?" "The air should feel slightly heavy. For those who practice spirit arts, there's a sensation like fine particles brushing against your skin," "Oh, I think I get it. My ears are tingling," Shota tried touching the back of his own ears but felt nothing in particular. When he said so honestly, Gon made a disappointingly surprised face. At that moment, the fluffy thing in his arms trembled faintly. It was less of a flutter and more of a twitch. Different from its usual gentle vibration. Shota cupped the white ball of fur gently in both hands to confirm the sensation. (What is this?) "Luna, I think this little guy just reacted to something," Luna stepped closer and observed the fluffy creature while watching the meter's needle. Her aquamarine eyes narrowed. "Recording. The baseline of resonant vibration is changing in response to the rise in spirit density—" Luna's hand flew across her notebook. Shota glanced at her profile for a moment, then turned forward again. A line of giant trees loomed ahead. The entrance to Vana's Veil—the misty great forest—was quieter than he'd imagined. No roaring sounds, no light. Just massive trees standing in silence, thin mist leaking white from between them. The grass at their feet changed its growth pattern from here onward. It was thin, blue-green, and glimmered faintly in the light. "Well, let's go in," "We'll figure it out somehow," "Someday, you'll encounter a situation where 'somehow' won't work," "Then Luna will figure it out for us," "...I'll consider it," Gon exclaimed, "She said 'consider'! She actually said 'consider'!" and Shota laughed, "That's amazing." Luna's eyebrows moved slightly as she faced forward. The three stepped into the Veil. ◆ Inside the forest, time flowed differently. Sunlight was blocked by the canopy of giant trees, and dappled shadows spread across the ground. The smell changed—soil and leaf mold, and beyond that, something like cool metal. If spirit had a scent, Shota thought, it would be like this. "Shota, how do the colors look to you?" Gon asked suddenly. "Huh?" "I mean, the leaves look incredibly green to me. Maybe my eyes haven't adjusted yet," Shota looked around. The green of the leaves was indeed vivid. The edges of the shadows seemed sharp and clear. "Yeah, me too. The colors look really vibrant," Luna checked her meter and ran her pen across her notebook. "Early symptoms of forest intoxication include visual distortion, dizziness, and auditory hypersensitivity. Color enhancement is..." Luna paused there. Her gaze shifted from the meter's needle to Shota's face. "In your case, it may be a weak manifestation of spirit-sensing ability," "Wait, isn't that amazing?" "It's a possibility. I can't say for certain. It's a hypothesis at this point," "But even a hypothesis is exciting," "Please refrain from getting excited until confirmation," Gon whispered, "But that's kind of cool, right?" Shota replied, "Right?" Luna said, "I can hear you," without turning around. The fluffy thing in his arms trembled again. This time stronger, with direction—toward the upper right diagonal. Shota's eyes followed. A thick root crawled across the ground, and beyond it lay a small clearing. (A path?) "There's something open over that way," Luna confirmed and nodded lightly. "It's a game trail. It matches the old route to the ruins," The fluffy creature was showing them the way. ◆ The second night came. The three made camp at the base of a giant tree. Gon gathered dead branches, and Luna used fire-spirit arts—the technique of manipulating atmospheric spirits—to ignite them. A small flame flickered red. In the damp forest air, the warmth of the fire felt tangible. Gon volunteered to take watch. "I'll wake you in three hours," he said, settling onto a tree root away from the flames. In the darkness, only his amber eyes occasionally caught the light. Shota and Luna sat facing each other across the fire. Silence. Not an uncomfortable one. Shota kept the fluffy creature on his lap, watching the flames flicker. Luna had her notebook open, but her pen wasn't moving. After some time had passed. "...I once went to the Scorched Lands with my father," Luna spoke while watching the flames. Her voice was calm. But there was something else—a careful quality, like gently taking out something that had been locked away for a long time. Shota said nothing. He simply listened. "The Scorched Lands—the aftermath of the wide-area incineration spell used in the Gray War a hundred years ago—stretch as a gray band from the southern edge of the Midra Plain westward. Even after a century, vegetation is sparse and spirits flow in turbulence. To a child like me, it was simply a terrifying place," "How old were you?" "Nine. My father was a researcher. He held a position at the Life Spirit Academy," Luna's pen unconsciously pressed against the edge of her notebook. "He found something in that band. A dying fluffy creature. White fur—half its body buried in the earth. My father dug it out and held it to his chest. I had never seen my father's face relax like that before," The flames flickered. "The fluffy creature died that night. The next morning, my father told me—this child's fur once existed across the entire continent, but now there may be fewer than two hundred left. Understanding why they were lost became my work," Shota watched her profile as she spoke. The red of the flames faintly tinted her silver hair. Her expression held something beyond her usual composure. The quiet tension of someone handing over something they'd carried alone for seven years to another person for the first time. "Is your father still continuing his research?" Luna paused for a moment. "He died five years ago. During his research," Shota couldn't speak. He searched for words, but they all felt too light. Instead, he simply remained there. The campfire crackled softly. "That's why I wanted to go to the Gray Cradle. I wanted to find my own answer to my father's question," With that, Luna closed her pen. She placed her notebook gently on her lap. Gon returned silently from the darkness. He'd read the atmosphere between them. Without saying anything, he sat beside Shota and added a dead branch to the flames. That was all. That simple action felt warm to Shota. It was Gon's way—showing things through action rather than words. After a while, Shota gently offered the fluffy creature toward Luna's lap. Luna's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then she extended her fingertips toward the white ball of fur. The moment she touched it, the resonant vibration began softly. Shota turned to the side. Luna's profile was there in the firelight. The face of someone who had just entrusted seven years of solitude to another person for the first time. Something spread quietly and gently in his chest. Shota didn't yet understand what it was. But he was certain of its warmth. ◆ The Gray Cradle came into view around midday the next day. A massive gray stone gate stood among the trees. Over ten meters tall. Its surface was covered in moss, and ancient inscriptions faintly remained. Beyond the gate was darkness, bottomless. The presence of spirits here was so dense it pressed against the skin. "That is the Gray Cradle—the ruins where, according to legend, the ancestor of all fluffy creatures sleeps," Luna's meter needle wavered near its upper limit. "Regarding entry," Luna stood in the center of their circle and opened her notebook. "The first layer has a spirit-sensing network. If a spirit arts practitioner steps inside, it triggers traps. However—" "Someone who can't use spirit arts can pass through undetected," "...A crude summary, but statistically rational," "Are you complimenting me?" "I'm evaluating it as a summary that sacrifices precision for clarity," Shota thought for a while. He couldn't tell if that was praise or criticism. "So Shota should walk in front. Both Luna and I can use spirit arts, so if we're in front, the traps will activate," "So my inability to use spirit arts is actually useful," "Majority vote. How about it?" "Majority vote? Why is the situation developing in my disadvantage?" "Two against one," "Luna too?" "Statistically rational," Shota looked up at the sky. Blue sky peeked through the gaps in the trees. It was very blue. "...Fine. I'll go," ◆ The first layer was quieter than expected. Shota walked in front. The floor was ancient stone tiles, their surface worn smooth by countless footsteps from ages past. Inscriptions continued along the walls, and stones that had absorbed spirit glowed faintly instead of torches—spirit lamps, Luna called them. The fluffy creature in his arms changed the direction of its vibration. Left, and slightly downward. Shota stopped to check, and found a subtle step in the floor to the right. "I think we should avoid the right," Luna examined that spot. "There's a spirit compression device buried there. It's designed to release spirit explosively if stepped on," "That's impressive, little guy," Gon murmured admiringly. Shota looked at the white ball of fur too. It couldn't answer—it had no voice. But the vibration continued gently. They passed through the first layer. The second layer was dark. Fewer spirit lamps, and the inscriptions on the walls became finer and denser. The stone color had changed slightly—an older layer. Shota advanced guided by the fluffy creature's vibrations. Left, right, stop, go. No words, but Shota understood. Remarkably so. Then he saw it. A stone pedestal stood in the center of the passage. About a meter in diameter, circular, with complex inscriptions carved into its surface. The top surface glowed faintly—a cold, pale blue light. "Stop," At Luna's voice, everyone froze. "An ancient spirit resonance device. It has a mechanism that amplifies the emotions of those who approach it. If someone with intense emotions touches it, that emotion exceeds the threshold and—" Before she could finish, Gon's feet stopped. Shota turned back. Gon's face had changed. His amber eyes had lost focus, staring into the distance. His hands trembled slightly. His knees buckled, and he leaned against the nearby wall. "Gon," "...Sorry. Something just suddenly—" His voice was different. The cheerfulness was gone. (Something from his past is surfacing.) Shota immediately moved to Gon's side. He placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't choose his words carefully. "I'm here," That was all he said. Gon slowly inhaled. Once, twice. The trembling in his body gradually subsided as Shota's hand warmth transferred to him. At the same time, Luna walked toward the device. She read the numbers on her meter, then formed a complex hand sign with her left hand—a spirit arts hand sign. An incantation began. Short, five syllables of standard form. But midway through, Luna's movements slowed. "...!" The color drained from Luna's face. The beginning of spirit exhaustion