Soulbound Ch 5: A Careful Step!

I exhaled slowly, adjusting my footing as I stepped forward. The land trembled beneath me, deep cracks forming beneath my toes as the remnan

I exhaled slowly, adjusting my footing as I stepped forward. The land trembled beneath me, deep cracks forming beneath my toes as the remnants of molten rock dripped from my skin. The warmth of the planet's core still clung to my feet, but with each passing moment, it cooled, hardening into blackened stone.

I had to be careful.

I had already made enough of a mess, and I really didn't want to make things worse. I was going to be a good owner to this planet. I always took great care of my pets—this would be no different. I would take my time, be patient, and ensure that when I found my Soulbound, this world wouldn't be too broken for him to visit.

But first... I had to find him.

And that was where the real problem lay.

Finding my Soulbound would be easy—my body was already reacting to his presence, pulling me toward him like a force I could neither fight nor ignore. The closer I got, the stronger the pull would be, until I finally stood before him.

No, the real problem was something else entirely.

I couldn't scan the others.

His family, the people he shared blood with was another problem all together.

If I knew who they were, I could ensure I didn't accidentally crush them beneath my feet or wipe them out with an absentminded movement. But I couldn't. My body wasn't complete, my full abilities locked away until I was whole again. I could scan one at a time, but that would take centuries, and I had neither the patience nor the interest in sorting through billions of these little mites to find out which one would cause a small reaction in my own biology, as a blood relative would.

I had no choice.

Until I found him, I would have to be careful.

"I'll just have to avoid the grey patches," I muttered to myself.

The cities.

They were fragile, after all.

I took another careful step forward, watching the land shift beneath me. Mountains crumbled at my approach, entire rivers rerouted to avoid the indents I left behind. I did my best to avoid the larger settlements, though I could already hear the chaos I was causing in the distance—small, panicked voices, sirens blaring, tiny dots scattering like dust caught in a gust of wind.

It was fine. They would adapt.

They always did.

But before I could focus again, I felt something warm on my skin.

I ignored it at first, but then it happened again.

And again.

I frowned, glancing down at my chest. Tiny sparkles flickered across my skin—little bursts of golden light appearing and vanishing in an instant.

"Huh?"

I focused my vision.

Tiny crafts.

Dozens of them.

Flying machines, darting through the air like insects, flitting around my stomach, my arms, my legs. The sparkles came from them—small weapons, unleashing firepower directly against my body.

I blinked.

Was I...?

Was I being attacked?

I sighed, rubbing my temple. Of course I was.

This happened sometimes when I visited planets. These little creatures were always so dramatic when something larger than them appeared. Sometimes, I had fun with them—teased them a little, watched them scramble. Other times, I just waved them away, crushed them, or scattered them like dust.

But today...

Today, I didn't have time for this.

I had things to do.

I tilted my head, watching the tiny machines zip around me, clearly committed to whatever ridiculous heroic mission they thought they were on.

Did they really believe they could harm me?

I resisted the urge to laugh.

I mean, come on.

I was an Aetherion—even among my kind, I was massive, powerful, and nearly invincible. These tiny things were like rain against my skin. Less than that, even. Like dust.

I didn't even feel them.

If they weren't lighting up my vision, I might not have even noticed them at all.

For a brief moment, I wondered if my Soulbound was among them.

It was unlikely, but still...

I hoped he wasn't this stupid.

It would be disappointing if I went through all this trouble only to find that my other half was some reckless, self-sacrificing idiot.

But even if he was... well.

I would still love him.

I would take care of him.

I would keep him safe—forever.

He would never be alone again.

A soft smile touched my lips at the thought.

Moving Forward

But... I had wasted enough time.

I turned my gaze back to the tiny attackers, feeling the slightest flicker of annoyance.

I wasn't going to fight them.

I wasn't going to destroy them.

But I also wasn't going to acknowledge them.

I took a step forward.

I ignored them completely.

If they wanted to throw themselves against me like waves against a mountain, that was their problem.

Their fate was in their own hands.

They could either realize how pointless this was and fly away... or they could continue wasting their time until they ran out of fuel or ammunition.

It didn't matter to me.

I had more important things to do.

As I walked, the land beneath me shifted—my footprints carving deep impressions into the earth. Each step I took was a little more gentle, the lava on my feet cooling, leaving less and less destruction in my wake.

Good.

Progress.

But no matter how far I walked, the pull in my chest didn't strengthen.

I wasn't getting closer.

I frowned.

Was I... searching in the wrong direction?

No, that didn't make sense. My body knew where he was. If I wasn't getting closer, then that meant...

My Soulbound wasn't here.

At least, not anywhere nearby.

I sighed, stopping in place as I crossed my arms.

This complicated things.

It was easy to avoid one city. Maybe even a dozen. But I couldn't wander this planet forever, sidestepping civilization at every turn.

And I still couldn't scan for his family.

What if, without knowing, I crushed someone he cared about?

I frowned at the thought. I didn't care about these tiny beings—not really. But he would. And because of that, I had to try.

"Tch. Fine," I muttered under my breath.

I needed a new plan. But the more I thought about it, the more I came back empty, I couldn't shrink any longer, and I was currently being as gentle as I could be, the best thing I could do at the moment was find my other, and get off this planet quickly and find him I would. I had no doubt.

I had come all this way, and nothing in this universe could keep us apart.

"I'm coming for you," I whispered, the words vanishing into the wind.

And I hoped—no, I knew—that he would hear me soon.

***

The jets tore through the sky, weaving between the vast, flesh-colored canyons that stretched across the titan's body. Squadron Silver Wing had never faced anything like this before. No enemy had ever been this large, this unstoppable. The pilots were used to dogfights in tight aerial combat, used to evading missiles, dodging anti-aircraft fire. But here? Here, they were nothing more than gnats flitting around a being so vast that their very battleground was her skin.

Commander Dante Reynolds grit his teeth, gripping the controls as his jet twisted between the shifting terrain of her collarbones, his squadron weaving in and out of the dips and curves that made up the landscape of her body.

"Stay tight, Silver Wing! Keep your formations! We need to hit her hard!"

A chorus of affirmatives crackled through his radio, and then the air was alight with firepower. Missiles streaked forward, machine guns rattled, and explosions bloomed against the titan's skin like tiny firecrackers.

But it didn't matter.

Not a single mark was left behind.

Dante cursed. Their attacks did nothing—nothing. Even her clothing, that strange white fabric that clung to her curves, seemed completely unscathed. What the hell was that made of?

Then the air shifted.

The titan moved.

Her body shifted slightly, and that small, casual motion threw the air into chaos.

A rush of wind, as strong as a hurricane, blasted outward. The shift in pressure was instantaneous. Planes wobbled wildly, pilots fought for control, and many jets were sucked toward her skin, completely unable to fight against the force.

Dante barely had time to shout a warning before he saw the first explosions.

Jets slammed into her body, bursting into fiery debris that didn't even scratch her. Others collided with what, at first glance, looked like strands of wire, stretching endlessly across her vast form—her body hairs.

They weren't even visible to the titan, not at this scale.

To Silver Wing? They were uncrossable barriers, traps waiting to tear their planes apart.

Dante watched, helpless, as several pilots collided midair, their jets spiraling out of control before crashing into her skin—where they simply vanished in the vast, indifferent expanse of her.

This wasn't a fight.

This wasn't even a battle.

This was suicide.

"Fall back!" Dante barked into his radio. "Everyone fall back! We can't do anything here—we follow her from behind!"

The remaining jets peeled away, racing into the open air, leaving the titan's endless landscape of flesh behind.

Now flying behind her, Silver Wing had a clearer view of the destruction she was leaving in her wake.

Her footsteps alone were rewriting the geography of the planet.

Every step she took sent shockwaves through the ground, causing cities and towns miles away to tremble like they were being hit by earthquakes. Buildings cracked, streets split apart, and power grids failed, plunging entire regions into darkness.

The land itself shifted, fault lines snapping beneath her weight. With each step, new chasms yawned open, swallowing forests, highways, entire neighborhoods. Rivers and lakes were displaced, their waters surging outward in unnatural tsunamis, rushing over settlements in deadly waves.

Even mountains were not spared. Some were flattened, others were split apart, their peaks crumbling into landslides that buried valleys below.

Yet, despite all this, Dante noticed something odd.

The titan wasn't directly targeting cities.

Most of the major population centers she encountered were left intact, just narrowly avoiding complete annihilation.

Was this intentional?

Was she... trying to avoid them?

Dante didn't know whether that was comforting or terrifying.

Because if she was capable of restraint, that meant she knew what she was doing.

And she was still causing this much damage—without even trying.

Reaching the Ocean

After what felt like an eternity, the titan finally stopped.

Dante narrowed his eyes, watching as she came to a halt before a vast expanse of shimmering blue.

The Celestian Ocean.

A seemingly endless body of water, stretching beyond the horizon. It had once been the deepest ocean on the planet, vast and untouched. A natural wonder, home to countless ecosystems.

And now?

Now it looked tiny compared to her.

"What is she doing?" Dante muttered, gripping his controls.

Silver Wing hovered at a distance, watching as the titan stared down at the ocean, as if considering something.

Then, ever so slowly, she began to move again.

Dante's breath caught in his throat.

Was she about to step into it?