FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Strength: courage, confidence, compassion, and, quite literally—strength.

In the dim, narrow hallway, I stepped lightly, setting my boot heel down first before each step, prioritizing silence above all.

There was no other sound around, so even my breathing, and the rustling of fur against my clothing, were audibly clear.

Still, I sensed no danger until that overwhelming pressure made the hairs on my neck stand up.

Before I could fully draw Gray Snow or turn, a heavy slash struck. I blocked by raising Gray Snow horizontally, and as the blades clashed, a spark flashed, revealing my attacker—a large, white-furred wolf with fiercely red eyes, a vicious grin baring his fangs. It was that Snow, I assume that mean he is genuinely thrilled to see me.

The weight of his strike was immense; I nearly buckled under it. But my body instinctively adjusted, and I managed to hold my ground.

My left hand gripped the scabbard, and my right clutched the hilt, pushing his sword aside with Gray Snow’s guard. The screech of metal filled the air, and a cut formed across my left knuckles, but I seized the moment to break free, stepping forward and hammering the pommel into Snow's head.

The sharp crack and solid impact told me I had landed the blow.

But before I could savor my victory, a powerful kick hit my stomach, sending me flying. From mid-air, I barely caught a glimpse of that Snow retracting his foot.

I lay on my back for a while, unable to move, until the nausea subsided. The next sensation was a cold sting at my collarbone, the tip of a sword pressing into my skin.

Lowering my gaze, I saw that Snow looking down at me, thumb pointed to the ground.

“Come on,” I protested, breathing heavily. “Shouldn’t it at least be a draw? If I hadn’t held back, your head would’ve cracked by now.”

That Snow pointed his thumb down again, as if to underscore his stance, and spat a bloody mix onto the ground.

“Fine, whatever makes you happy.” I raised my chin, exposing my neck, and half-heartedly lifted my hands in surrender, clasped in front of my chest.

With a satisfied grunt, that Snow lifted his sword.

I got to my feet, sheathed Gray Snow, and healed the cut on my fingers while straightening my clothes. Just then, I noticed his labored breathing and saw his nose was broken, blood dripping from the tip.

“Oh, right. I can help you with that…”

Before I could finish, that Snow grabbed his nose and adjusted it with a sickening crunch. When he let go, he shot me a smug glare.

“Pretty sure that’s more disgusting than tough,” I muttered, rubbing my arms, trying to erase the memory.

That Snow merely shrugged and strode forward.

“Been here before?” I asked, catching up and glancing at the altimeter on my wrist—seventy-five floors up, an area only skilled, powerful psychics could access. This was my first time exploring this level.

In response, Snow nodded and gestured at Gray Snow, indicating I should stay alert.

“How could you make no sound when you walk?” I tightened my grip on Gray Snow’s hilt, trying to tread lightly myself. Compared to his silence, my steps sounded like a clumsy bear crashing through thorn bushes.

That Snow made a muffled scoff, likely due to his still-sensitive nose, and glanced at my feet.

“I’ve tried everything—sonic mirrors, even creating a vacuum around my boots.” Undeterred by his sarcasm, I pushed on, eager to learn the trick. “But at these heights, sustaining command-etched carvings drains too much focus, even within my constant consciousness circle.”

Once again, I confirmed that, like me, that Snow was moving with his consciousness circle fully retracted, without exerting control over the area.

In response to my curiosity, that Snow rolled his eyes, clearly uninterested in explaining. But I fixed him with an unwavering stare, unfazed by the awkwardness it caused.

Finally, with a low growl of irritation, that Snow took off his terminal and signaled for me to do the same.

With a beep, I received a blueprint.

“Oh, it’s the shoes!” I realized after reading the instructions. Evidently, there was a simpler solution. “Thanks!” I nudged him lightly with my elbow, earning an even grumpier growl.

Realizing I’d just poked his brick wall-like flank, I cleared my throat awkwardly and stepped back a bit.

My ears drooped as I caught his puzzled look, but saying more would only make things weirder, so I pretended to focus intently on potential threats around us.

After a while, I noticed something slumped on the ground up ahead. Squinting, I barely made out the shape of a large wolf.

Just as I was about to approach, a strong hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I gave that Snow a questioning look, but he merely drew his sword and motioned for me to do the same.

Though confused, I unsheathed Gray Snow, unsure what to expect.

Sensing a faint ripple in the air, I spun, knocking aside a blade aimed at me—a wide, curved scimitar.

The weapon didn’t fall; it continued to arc forward. Following its trajectory, I saw that Snow had already charged, swinging his sword at the figure that had just risen from the ground.

I was about to chide him for attacking anything that moved, but the heavy clash of blades pushed that Snow back several steps, allowing me to get a good look at the figure—a large gray wolf with dirty white fur and strikingly blue eyes that almost glowed in the dim light. He caught the scimitar I had deflected, holding another identical blade in his other hand.

I recalled Master Field had mentioned that only one kind of psychic could retain their original eye color in the tower, the mysterious beings known as Phantasms.

That Snow attacked again, and after a few more exchanges, both withdrew to a safe distance, warily eyeing each other.

“It’s hard to call it fair when it’s two against one, isn’t it?” Surprisingly, Phantasm’s voice was rather normal—if one could overlook the madness within it.

“What? I’m not participating!” I couldn’t help but speak up, confused by his words. Due to limited space, I couldn’t step in to assist that Snow.

In response to my comment, Phantasm burst out in maniacal laughter, which only added to his unsettling aura. Meanwhile, that Snow shot me a fierce glare and barked out a reproachful growl.

I reflexively flattened my ears, though I had no idea what I’d done wrong.

“Rationalism bear witness, this is too funny. Let me help translate,” Phantasm mocked, throwing a few feints that that Snow cautiously stepped back to avoid. “What he’s probably trying to say is: ‘Are you an idiot? Why are you even talking to that thing?’”

With that, Phantasm pressed forward, advancing on that snow with a flourish of his twin blades. In the swirling shadows and light, a few droplets of blood splattered. When they parted again, that Snow had retreated, adopting a defensive stance, his breathing slightly labored and fresh cuts marking his arms. Phantasm laughed wildly, breathing heavily, as if he were choking.

“Funny thing is, the first time I ran into my Shadow in the Labyrinth, I went right for the throat too!” Phantasm chuckled and continued his relentless assault, blades swinging.

In the ensuing exchange, Phantasm laughed hysterically, never seeming to bother adjusting his breath. Even so, his oppressive presence kept that Snow on the defensive.

Though unhinged, Phantasm’s movements were still precise and methodical. He maneuvered skillfully to keep that Snow from circling around him, blocking any chance of being cornered by us both.

Burdened by the pressure of the “Tower” and the equivalent restriction of battling within the opponent’s domain, that Snow’s technical advantages were completely neutralized.

More blood splattered against the pale stone wall. That snow didn’t react, but his deepening frown was not a good sign.

Looking at the blood-stained blades in Phantasm’s hands, an idea sparked within me.

I knew I’d regret it, but I extended my domain boundary, fusing it with the Tower’s to form a merged domain.

No one truly knew what the Tower was, but its presence was undeniably vast.

The flood of information was overwhelming, and I could barely process it all. Summoning all my willpower, I focused on Phantasm’s bloodied twin blades. You shouldn’t throw your weapons!

“Shatter!” I yelled, giving form to the concept. With a crack, both blades broke simultaneously.

Phantasm froze in surprise, but that Snow didn’t hesitate, swinging his sword in a wide arc that cleaved into Phantasm’s shoulder.

“Puh... Hahaha!” Phantasm laughed in near-ecstasy, even as he lay pinned to the ground, with a longsword being drawn from his chest.

The snow wolf calmly wiped the blood from his sword, watching as Phantasm struggled to prop himself against the wall.

“Truly...hah... the most powerful psychic... impressive,” Phantasm said, laughing and coughing up blood intermittently. He fumbled around his wound with his working hand; at first, I thought he was trying to stop the bleeding, but soon realized it was more of a curious examination.

I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I opened my mouth, attempting to say something. But when that Snow raised his sword again, I finally realized what was about to happen.

“Uh... what are you doing?” I stammered, unable to stop the question from escaping my throat.

That Snow turned to glare at me, his brow furrowed, while Phantasm broke into laughter again, clearly amused by my reaction.

“Rationalism bear witness...” Phantasm managed between coughs as that Snow watched him coolly, sword held high. “Let me translate again: ‘What do you think?’”

This time, I was utterly at a loss, left speechless.

“Do it,” Phantasm said once he’d caught his breath, resting his muzzle against the wall. “Being able to meet again—I’m satisfied.” A sly glint flashed in his deep blue eyes. “??????.”*

As he spoke his final words, that Snow moved. His sword cut a clean arc, and then there was the sound of a head falling to the ground.

It took me a moment to process the scene. It wasn’t the headless body that threw me off, but the look Phantasm gave me just before the end.

What?

Whether it was gratitude, joy, or final release, there was an emotion in his eyes that made no sense. And the way he uttered that last word...

I shook my head, forcing myself out of my thoughts and adding “Research any trustworthy information about Phantasm” and “Consult experts on this matter” to my to-do list.

When I snapped back to attention, I caught sight of that Snow using a serrated dagger to slice open Phantasm’s abdomen and reach inside, searching for something.

“Typically, trophies are heads or ears, you know…” I remarked, glancing at the wolf’s severed head lying quietly by the wall, congratulating myself on the attempt at humor to lighten the mood.

That Snow ignored me, continuing to rummage within Phantasm’s body cavity. Eventually, he pulled something out and wiped it on Phantasm’s fur.

It was a transparent cylindrical container with metal-like bases on each end. Inside, something gleamed brilliantly, emitting powerful energy waves.

“What’s that?” I turned away from the blinding glow that brightened the dim surroundings.

That Snow wolf didn’t answer, merely wrapping the container in strips of cloth he tore from Phantasm’s body to dampen the light.

He got up on his own, seemingly knowing exactly where he was going, and headed back the way we’d come. I had no choice but to follow, noticing his fingers twitching occasionally, almost as if signaling commands.

Finally, we stopped in front of a seemingly unremarkable stone wall.

The snow wolf tapped the wall, feeling around as if searching for a particular structure.

I held back my impatience, watching from the side. At last, that Snow’s face lit up with satisfaction.

I didn’t see what he did, but the transparent container was swallowed into a part of the wall, which then began to glow—more precisely, faint gray lines that were barely visible before now glowed brightly.

“That’s pretty cool, but I have to leave now.” I’d spent much more time on this confrontation with Phantasm than I’d anticipated, and there was still a trek back. “I don’t want to be late for Crystallography class.”

To my surprise, that Snow reached over and smacked the back of my head without even looking back.

“Hey!” I muttered in protest, fixing my ruffled fur. Before I could act on my irritation, a circular opening appeared in the wall.

I recognized it instantly, though it wasn’t a sight I came across every day—it was a wormhole.

“Uh…” I fumbled for a witty remark. “A portal?”

“Hmph.” That Snow gave what I assumed was his closest approximation of a chuckle before stepping into the wormhole.

Not knowing how long the portal would remain open, I quickly followed. Soon, we emerged into a hallway that looked vaguely familiar.

Even with my poor sense of direction, I could recognize a place I’d slept in dozens of times—we were near the large safe zone on the fiftieth floor.

“Pretty handy,” I commented as the wormhole closed behind us, restoring the wall to its original state.

But I noticed something different: in the corner, a square panel flashed, divided into several smaller rectangles, about half of which were dim.

“So… this is…” I tilted my head, thinking of a straightforward description. “Battery level?”

That Snow nodded, touching the flashing panel, and the wormhole opened once more.

“Oh, I figured.” I called to his retreating back, “You go on ahead. Don’t worry about me.”

After a couple of flicks of his tail, that Snow stepped through the wormhole and vanished.

I spent a few more moments studying the wall, trying to recall if I’d seen similar gray lines anywhere else—a potential indicator of another portal.

And from what I could tell about the material that activated the wormhole, I was pretty sure the transparent container held some form of exotic matter—a resource harvested from within Phantasm’s body, much like adamantine is harvested from squid cores. It hadn’t occurred to me how similar the processes were.

But what really stuck with me was Phantasm’s final words: “I’m satisfied.”

With a sigh, I ruffled my hair in frustration, forcing myself to stop overanalyzing the meaning in those eyes. Maybe that’s why that Snow had insisted on ignoring Phantasm all along.

It hit me then, and I finally understood why he’d never spoken with me.

Having found the Ariadne's thread, I retraced my steps, thoughts entirely occupied with the struggle of whether or not to reveal my identity to that Snow, nearly forgetting the sense of déjà vu that had struck me moments before.