Axel took a slow, measured breath, letting the residual friction bleed out of his hands before he extended his awareness outward once more. His intent was clean this time—not a demand, but a genuine offer to mend.
Instantly, the low, steady hum of the whispers flooded back into his ears. The air grew cool, and the heavy haze over the wall tore away. In a flash of shimmering light, the giant rune detached itself from the wall, concentrating inward until it hung suspended directly in front of him, glowing with a soft, pulsing luminescence.
Up close, the structural fracture was glaring. Jagged lines split the rune down the center, leaking pale sparks into the empty air. As Axel stared into the floating design, a profound wave of intent washed over him—not a living mind or a heartbeat, but a raw, unyielding will. The structure wasn't alive, yet its entire existence was anchored to a singular purpose: to serve, to protect, and to house the people who relied on it.
His fingers twitched instinctively, tracing the invisible fault lines in the air. A sudden, absolute certainty gripped his thoughts. He knew how to bridge the break.
Axel stared down at the glowing matrix, his heart hammering against his ribs as a single, staggering question took hold: "If I fix the rune... will it fix the building?"
Following the pull of his gut, Axel pointed his hand forward and moved, acting entirely on instinct. His fingertips ignited with a sharp glow as white light spilled over the fractured edges of the floating rune. Instantly, a deep suction seized his core, draining his aether at an alarming, rapid pace as the jagged lines of the rune began to slide and click into alignment.
Panicked. Axel tried to pull his hand back, attempting to cut the connection, but the rune refused to let go. It latched onto him, sucking his energy greedily, dragging his reserves down into a bottomless well. Gritting his teeth, Axel slammed down a wall of sheer mental willpower, forcing his mind to sever the flow. The glowing matrix stuttered violently, dimming until it faded into a faint, ghost-like outline.
For a few tense seconds, the courtyard hung completely frozen. Then, a sharp, concussive crack echoed through the air. Chunks of scattered rubble and broken masonry jerked off the ground, flying backward to snap seamlessly into the shattered wall, fusing the concrete back together. Breathing heavily, Axel summoned his soul stone, his eyes tracking the internal readouts. The brief, reckless repair had cost him exactly five hundred aether points.
Axel took a steadying breath, letting his racing pulse settle before reaching out to try fixing the rune once more. He channeled his focus, pouring a steady, deliberate stream of Aether points directly into the floating matrix. Slowly, the jagged fractures mended themselves, the luminous lines locked firmly into alignment, and the entire rune flashed with a brilliant, blinding intensity.
The air violently compressed around him. Suddenly, large chunks of scattered rubble, broken concrete, and twisted steel surrounding the sector flew off the ground, rocketing backward into the structure with a deafening roar of snapping stone until the massive building stood completely whole and restored.
Axel stared, frozen in sheer disbelief. He had been right—fixing a rune truly fixed the building. But as his eyes dropped to check his status readout, a cold wave of dread hit him: a staggering seven thousand Aether points had been completely drained, leaving him with a fragile balance of just over two thousand.
A huge chunk of the broken rocks and piles of trash covering the yard were completely gone, cleaned up as if a giant vacuum had sucked them away.
Axel looked over at the other damaged houses close by. He locked his eyes on their hidden marks, a sudden certainty washing over him. He knew he could fix every single one of these buildings.
He stayed very careful, forcing his mind to focus only on the physical houses themselves. He made sure not to think too hard about the concepts of runes, desperate to avoid feeling that blinding, terrible pain in his head ever again.
Axel turned his attention back to the mark glowing on the wall. He squinted, leaning in closer as he studied its shape. Right along the outer edges, he spotted a web of tiny, jagged cracks cutting through the lines. He frowned, wondering why those flaws were there.
What would happen if he smoothed them out? If he actually fixed those edges, would it do anything at all?
Deciding to find out, Axel reached out and guided his energy toward the damaged spots. He carefully nudged the broken lines back into place, working to make the entire shape smooth and perfect.
Suddenly, the ground beneath his boots rumbled. The building gave a deep, groaning shake. Around them, dust and loose dirt lifted into the air as the walls sucked in more broken bits and pieces from the ground, pulling the debris right into the structure to patch its remaining gaps.
Then, as quickly as it started, the shaking stopped, leaving a heavy silence behind.
Axel blinked, stepping back to look it over. At first glance, the house looked entirely the same, just solid and quiet. But as he looked closer, the surprise hit him—every single inch of the old, scarred stone and rusted metal looked completely brand new.