Whispers of the Coming Storm

Tyla crashed to the ground, her breath forced out of her body. The metalic taste of blood filled her mouth as she stood up, shaking.

In front of her, the generated Novice Witch drifted calmly, her crimson robes billowing as she prepared for the final blow.

Tyla had been faster this time—dodging, countering, reacting. Her footwork was smoother, her spellcasting sharper . But it wasn't enough.

Her spells weren't offense enough to win the fight.

Her light element spells barely affected her target. It did marvelous against dark entities and the undead—but a body that existed in the physical plane? It was like trying to cut through rocks with a feather. And her water magic, she hadn't worked hard enough at learning it ...

And for defense? None-existent.

A fierce blast of air assaulted her, slicing through the air with a ghostly blade.

Tyla's pulse pounded. She had seconds to react.

She lifted her arms, calling upon her mana to form a shield—anything to absorb the impact.

Too late.

The impact sent her stumbling back, her vision spinning.

[Simulation Failed]

The translucent interface reappeared as the battle ground disappeared around her. Tyla restrained herself from gasping before the system's tiny pixie avatar appeared before her.

"Lady Boss! You were better this time!" System 111 babbled, its wings beating frantically. "You lasted two minutes longer (⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯⁠)!"

Tyla winced, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"Maybe you should check the system store for attack spells(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)?" the pixie smiled.

Tyla let out a sigh, closing the battle interface. The light attack spells that could cuase enough damage at her level are not many. They're not also more powerful than her [Light Arrow].

Maybe she would buy weapons from the system if she still could not improve her combat.

There in her small apartment, Tyla sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by antiques—a chipped porcelain teacup, a wooden clock with half its face worn off, a tarnished silver tray.

Her phone sat beside her, playing a live news broadcast.

"Authorities remain baffled by the mysterious mass disappearance in the eastern fishing community. Meanwhile, relief workers continue with efforts to overcome yesterday's earthquake. More sinkholes have opened up, some as wide as city blocks, consuming entire avenues overnight—"

Tyla barely glanced at the screen as she touched her fingers to the chipped teacup. A soft, golden glow emanated from her fingertips, filling the cracks with warm light.

Within an instant, the cracks were erased.

[Minor Repair]

She picked up the clock, running her hands over the splintered wood. The surface evened out, the lost portion reforming as if time itself had been rolled back.

With every piece she restored, her mana dropped a little but recharged at a consistent rate.

She took a few photos and posted them for online sale. Within minutes, people interested in purchasing them flooded her inbox.

At this point, she actually had enough supplies of food and clothes. And she could take more in the chaos at the beginning of the apocalypse. And even if all the food was finished, she could still buy from the system.

So she didn't really have to keep mending antiques,but doing such repetitive household spells helped her mange the anxiety she had been having lately.

System 111 peeked over her shoulder, watching the transactions roll in. "You're getting really good at this. (⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯) "

She glanced back over her shoulder at the television screen, where satellite pictures uncovered unusual storm patterns forming over the ocean.

The disasters weren't slowing down.

That night, she had a dream

She was drifting in a vast, gray nothingness.

The air weighed upon her, pressing against her skin like unseen hands. Faint whispers curled around her ears, unrecognizable voices. The blackness wasn't still—it thrummed, living and breathing, like something waiting below the surface.

Then—shambling figures.

Twisted. Rotting.

Their mouths opened, but no sound came out. Their movements were wrong—stuttering, jerking, but smoothly so. And behind them, a greater shadow crept, something formless and vast, its mass heavier than the air itself.

A single eye, golden and unblinking, creaked through the void.

I see you.

Tyla awoke, gasping . Her body drenched in sweat, and her pulse thundered in her ears.

It took a few seconds for her to realise that she was in her apartment. Morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting pale gold on her cluttered living room. The TV, left on all night, hummed softly with some disaster reports.

Her dream hung around her like cobwebs.

She used to have visions, vague premonitions in the astral world, but this. This was ….louder.

And that eye—

She shuddered.

She couldn't get rid of the nervousness and anxiety after that dream.

Tyla went on automatic mode to her kitchen. She waved her fingers, summoning tiny bursts of mana. The eggs cracked themselves into a pan, milk poured into coffee, bread slid into the toaster—all little spells that she barely needed to think about.

But—

Her hands weren't steady, though.

The milk overflowed. The toast was burnt on the edges. Her coffee was far too bitter.

She couldn't shake the dream from her mind.

Was it a forewarning? Or simply another cruel reminder of things to come?

Before she could dwell on it, a bang echoed through her apartment.

Not now.

Another bang, bang, bang—this time accompanied by a high-pitched shriek.

"Tyla! I know you're in there! Open up!"

The landlady.

Tyla clenched her teeth. Her day was already going badly—she didn't need this hag to spoil it more.

She swung the door open, barely keeping her expression neutral.

Mrs. Park stood stiffly in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, her usual sneer on her face. The woman, well into her fifties, habitually dressed in flowerly prints which somehow only made her more objectionable.

She didn't step any closer.

Her eyes flashed beyond Tyla, toward the shadowed corners of the apartment. Her fingers quivered at her hip, and though she quickly covered it with a scowl, Tyla caught the hesitation.

She was afraid.

And still, greed triumphed over fear.

"You are late on the rent," she barked, voice strained. "I don't run a charity."

Tyla stood in the doorway, making herself breathe out. "I still have a week before it's due."

Mrs. Park snorted but didn't argue. She knew the terms of the lease. She just didn't care.

"Your payment history is awful," she snapped instead. "I want early payment this month. Or should I remind you how lucky you are to have this apartment at all?"

Her eyes flashed again inside. And She wouldn't cross the threshold.

Interesting.

Tyla tilted her head . It was funny watching Mrs.Park guarding against a "ghost". It was almost enough to brighten her day…almost.

A floorboard creaked on the other side of the hallway.

"Is something wrong?"

Tyla turned to see her neighbor standing in her doorway, her son perched on her hip. The boy peeked over her shoulder, clutching her sweater.

What's the woman's name again? Oh yeah ..Elena.she recalls.

Elena was a single mother, juggling multiple part-time jobs at once just to get by. She carried weariness like a second coat, and it was evident in the smudges of darkness beneath her eyes and the way she rocked her son from one hip to the other, likely bruised from standing for hours on end.

Tyla's gaze flashed to the boy, immediately recognizing him.

The boy who had almost run into her in the hallway just a few days ago.

He had the kind of eyes that made people stop and stare. Ice blue, an uncanny contrast to his warm, chubby-cheeked face. They were striking—too striking for a child his age.

And now, those same eyes were locked onto her, wide with quiet curiosity.

Mrs. Park's sneer deepened. "This has nothing to do with you, Elena.".

Elena didn't budge. "Tyla's been a fine tenant. You have no business harassing her."

Tyla's fingers twitched. Kind or stupid? She still wasn't sure.

Elena had always been the sort of person to defend others, especially individuals she felt sorry for. She had tried to assist Tyla in the past, treating her like a fragile orphan who had to be sheltered. But in reality, Elena was not doing much better herself.

A single mom holding down several jobs, just scraping by—her own struggles. And still, here she was, spending her breath fighting a fight that wouldn't make a difference.

Tyla didn't know if she was impressed with her for it or pitied her even more.

Something snapped inside Tyla.

She hadn't even processed the anger simmering beneath her skin—not just from this, but from everything. The restless nightmare , the failures in her battle simulation, the looming apocalypse.

And now this leech demanding more?

Tyla smiled.

Not warmly.

Coldly.

Predatory.

"You're right, Mrs. Park," she said smoothly. "I should be more considerate."

Mrs. Park blinked, thrown off by the shift.

Tyla reached into her pocket and pulled out a thin, silver bracelet.

"I don't have money now, but, I'd offer you this," she said smiling, holding it out.

Mrs. Park's eyes went to it, suspicion flickering on her face.

The bracelet was simple—unassuming. But from an astral perspective, a gentle whirl of dark energy encircled it, beating softly.

Enclosed within was a tiny astral creature.

Not dangerous.

Not lethal.

Just… bothersome.

The kind that whispered in the night, made things shift just out of sight.

Tyla intended to give Mrs.park her wooden bracelet . The same one where she bound the shadowy creature. Transfigured by her into silver colour.

And Mrs. Park, greedy as always, would take the bracelet. She'd wear it. The creature would invade her dreams , filling them with eerie murmurs, a malevolent sense of terror.

Nothing physically agonizing. Just one long, sleepless night.

And then tomorrow, she would take it back—before any real damage had been inflicted.

Mrs. Park eyed the bracelet suspiciously. "This is. Authentic silver?"

"Naturally," Tyla smoothly replied. "Think of it as my way of showing appreciation."

Mrs. Park snatched it out of her hands, turning it over in her palm with a greedy look in her eye.

"Hmph," she growled. "Don't forget the rest of my money within the week. One bracelet isn't a notion.".

She spun on her heel and went away.

Tyla sensed Elena's gaze.

"…Tyla, What have you done? It must cost a lot." Elena, confused,asked softly.

Tyla smiled, but there was little warmth behind it. "Don't worry."

Elena didn't seem convinced, but seeing Tyla doesn't want to speak -she sighed, settling her son on her hip.

"Just watch out for yourself, Tyla," she whispered. "People like her… they always come for more."

Tyla watched the landlady disappear into her apartment, already picturing what tonight would bring.