NOVPUB
Chapter 110: Soul Siphoning (II)
A realization struck him.
If Soul Siphon pulled soul energy from the air, and if soul energy was connected to life, then that meant air with no soul energy in it felt... dead.
Not poisonous or anything, just bland.
Like trying to breathe in a room that had the personality of a tax form.
"I’m breathing paperwork," Zayn muttered. "Fantastic."
Still, his hand was glowing again, energy pooling in his palm in greater amounts now that he’d done it before.
He didn’t want to just fire another beam, though.
That was fun, but clearly dangerous for the local bird population.
What if — he thought — what if he shaped it instead?
Focused on it?
He closed his fingers slightly, cupping the energy.
This time, instead of pulling it in and releasing it outward like a laser, he concentrated on making the soul energy stay, harden, take form.
His hand began to hum.
The energy started to condense, a faint shimmer dancing along his wrist and knuckles.
It felt like molding warm clay.
But you know, if clay were made of floating ghost sparkles and the occasional buzz of static electricity.
Zayn bit his lower lip in concentration. "C’mon... c’mon..."
The energy lengthened, stretching out from his palm, wavering like the reflection of a sword in water.
It flickered, then snapped into a more solid form — slightly transparent but definitely there.
A blade.
Not just any blade — this thing looked like a glassy longsword with flowing etchings along its side, the kind of sword you’d expect to see in a dramatic anime opening with way too many characters turning around slowly.
He gave it a small swing.
Whoosh.
Light, but it carried weight. Just enough to feel real in his grip.
"I have officially made a sword out of air and vibes," Zayn whispered, awestruck. "And yet, I remain unsupervised."
He marveled at it for a second longer, then did what anyone else in his situation would do:
He started swinging it around in increasingly dramatic fashion.
First a slice.
Then a spin.
Then a dual-hand anime-styled pose while whispering something like, "Soul Blade: Feather of the Forgotten Wind!"
Zayn exhaled slowly, fingers twitching slightly as he let the blade of pure soul energy dissolve into the air.
It flickered like a dying flame, the glow snuffing out with a faint whump.
The moment it vanished, he noticed something odd.
The air felt...even thinner than before.
Not just physically — but energetically. Like something vital had been sucked out of the room.
He lifted his hand again, feeling the space around him.
"Huh." The soul energy he’d siphoned from the air — gone. And not coming back.
It wasn’t like mana or some kind of recyclable magic juice.
This stuff was gone gone. The spiritual equivalent of drinking the last soda and putting the empty can back in the fridge.
"I’m basically a walking, talking soul vacuum cleaner," he muttered. "I should come with a warning label: ’Caution — may suck the literal life out of any room.’"
He rolled his shoulder and looked out the open window.
Faint threads of pinkish light trickled inward like a lazy river of aura, gradually refilling what he’d drained.
"At least the room doesn’t stay dry forever," he said, watching the returning soul energy like a guy watching paint dry.
It was relaxing in a weird, mystical way.
He sat back down on his bed with a thump, hands behind his head. "Alright, that’s enough messing around for one night. No weird explosions. No soul lasers. Just peace and — "
Knock knock knock.
Zayn froze.
He blinked at the door.
"...Please be Bran with snacks. Please be Bran with snacks."
He stood up, walked over, and opened the door.
It was not Bran.
It was Kara.
Kara, with her staff nowhere in sight, arms awkwardly crossed, and cheeks tinged a very conspicuous pink.
"Hey," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Hey," Zayn replied, blinking.
Silence.
More silence.
So much silence it was probably developing its own personality.
"Uh..." Kara rubbed her arm, her voice lowering. "I was wondering if I could... maybe... have a bit more."
Zayn blinked again. "More?"
"Yes."
"...More what?" he asked cautiously. "Are we talking food? Soul energy? Emotional validation? Because I’m running low on two of those."
Kara groaned and lightly shoved him in the chest. "You know what I mean, idiot."
"Ohhh." Zayn smirked. "You mean that."
She looked away, flustered. "Just...just a little. Don’t get full of yourself."
"Too late," he said, stepping aside with a dramatic wave of his arm. "The ego has already begun expansion. Please, do come in and inflate it further."
Kara walked in, still pink-faced, and plopped down on the edge of his bed like she was regretting every decision that brought her to this moment.
"I don’t know what it is," she mumbled. "I just... I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss earlier. And you smelled like a damp goblin, which was awful, but — "
"Wow. Thank you," Zayn interrupted dryly. "Truly the compliments never stop flowing."
She threw a pillow at him.
He caught it, laughing. "Okay, okay. I get it. You’re here for the deluxe Zayn experience. Let me just light some candles, summon some soul energy, maybe prepare a cheesy one-liner — "
"Zayn."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up." 𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝒃.𝙘𝙤𝒎
"Yes, ma’am."
She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before he could say another word.
This one wasn’t a sneak attack like earlier — it was intentional, warm, and... honestly kind of nice.
When she pulled back, Zayn blinked a few times, mildly dazed. "Alright, I take it back. That was... statistically better than the first one."
Kara smirked. "Told you I wanted more."
"Yeah, but usually when people say that, they’re asking for a second helping of soup or something."
"I could be talking about soup," she said teasingly.
"Well, let me just go downstairs and make you a bowl then. Unless it’s the soup of my irresistible charm you’re craving."
Kara stared at him, unimpressed. "You’re so lucky you’re cute."
