The light they stepped into had no color. It wasn't white, nor golden, nor cold. It was... the essence of a decision.
Albert opened his eyes in a forest draped in soft mist, where each step raised a spiral of light. The air was clean, yet dense, as if reality itself was folding to receive them.
Kaelya let out a long breath:
— We're no longer in the ruins of the world. Nor on any known land.
Elion raised a hand and drew at the air. Between his fingers, particles vibrated — raw, unfiltered magic.
— We're... in a place where the world has not yet been written.
Albert didn't respond. He stared toward the horizon, where a gentle hill rose, and atop it hovered a black stone suspended in the air, surrounded by gravitational rings. Beneath it, seven spirals of stone descended into the ground.
— There, he said. That's where everything we don't want to face gathers.
Kaelya:
— Is it a place of initiation?
Albert:
— No. It's a place of confession.
As they climbed, they felt voices inside themselves resonate — fragments of thoughts they had never shared. Old sorrows. Unspoken hopes. Fears.
Kaelya fell to her knees as an image struck her — herself as a child, in a dungeon, watching someone she loved being taken away.
Elion felt his hands burn red — the image of his missing brother overwhelmed him.
Albert... saw a world in flames. A world he had created with his own hand, in a possible future.
— It's not real, he said. But it's no lie, either.
At the peak, the black stone opened. From it flowed living letters, not written in ink but in intention. Each symbol was a choice they had not yet made.
And a voice — ancient, but clear — spoke:
> "Do you wish to go further? Then tell me... what are you willing to lose?"
Albert remained silent.
Albert clenched his fists. The letters swirled around him like transparent vipers, each carrying an unspoken question.
— "What are we willing to lose...?" Elion repeated, staring into the void.
Kaelya turned toward Albert, her voice trembling:
— Do you already know the answer?
— I do. But I won't like it, he said without blinking.
Elion gave a bitter grin:
— Great. I don't even know what I hate more: losing others… or losing myself.
Kaelya raised her voice:
— We don't have to lose anything! Can't we find a path that doesn't demand some absurd sacrifice?
Albert looked at her for a long moment, gently.
— Great truths demand a price, Kaelya. That's the rule of this world… or maybe just the rule of those who watch from beyond it.
— Who are "they"? Elion asked. — I keep hearing about "them," "those who watch," but no one ever names them.
Albert tilted his head toward the black stone.
— Want an answer? Ask them.
The letters stopped. From the stone, a silhouette of smoke began to take shape — a face without features, but with a voice composed of many overlapping tones:
> "We are the Clock That Does Not Tick. We do not exist to judge, but to remind. You were chosen not for what you are, but for what you could become — if you lose enough."
Elion stepped forward:
— Then take my doubt! Take my self-loathing. Give me back my brother, and I'll give you everything I'm not sure I deserve!
Kaelya shouted:
— Stop, Elion! Don't give up what defines you!
— But what if that's the problem? he answered quietly.
Albert stepped closer to the stone. The voice fell silent.
— I… am willing to lose certainty, he said. If I must, even the meaning of the journey. But I won't lose my people.
Kaelya looked at him wide-eyed.
— Not me either?
Albert turned to her. He smiled.
— You, last. If I lose you… then there's nothing of me left.
The stone began to vibrate, and the ground cracked open. In the center, a glowing circle appeared beneath their feet.
> "Then go, travelers of the unseen line. The world has recorded you. Now, it will begin to watch you."
Elion sighed, stepping forward first:
— Well… too late to back out now, huh?
Kaelya laughed softly through her tears:
— You're starting to sound like a hero from a poorly written story.
— That's 'cause I haven't read the ending yet, Elion said. And I probably never will.
Albert smiled. He followed them. And the world changed again.
The fall didn't last. Or perhaps it lasted an eternity. In this new place, gravity wasn't constant, and time pulsed — sometimes slow, sometimes too fast.
Kaelya held her hand to her chest.
— What… is this place? I feel like I'm existing in multiple versions of myself at once...
Elion tried to take a step but remained suspended mid-air, above a floor that hadn't yet decided if it existed.
Albert calmly observed:
— It's a transitional zone between worlds. An echo chamber... where thoughts take shape if you don't control them.
— So if I think about... I don't know, a giant dragon...?
Kaelya didn't even finish the sentence. To the side, a colossal silhouette had already begun forming from mist, with glowing coal eyes.
— Elion!! she shouted, annoyed.
— It was just a question!
Albert raised two fingers and drew a line in the air. The dragon vanished in a blink, absorbed into its own outline.
— Focus. Each of us leaves traces here. Any weakness… can be used against us.
Suddenly, the floor solidified. In front of them, a hexagonal portal appeared, inscribed with symbols from an unknown alphabet.
Kaelya stepped closer but didn't touch it.
— It might be a gate… or a trap.
Elion mumbled:
— What else is new? As if we're not in an adventure with traps at every corner.
Albert smiled slightly.
— Let's see what this world wants from us now.
He approached the portal and whispered:
— "Nothing is fixed, except what you choose to forget."
The symbols lit up, and the portal opened.
The three of them stepped through.
On the other side wasn't a chamber, but… a vast amphitheater, with stone benches arranged in massive circles. On each bench, a silhouette sat motionless — like living statues.
Elion whispered:
— What is this… a council? A trial?
Kaelya took a step back:
— I feel nothing. No magic. No intent.
Albert stepped forward calmly.
— That's what makes it dangerous. They don't think. They just... reflect.
From the center of the hall rose a single voice, echo-less:
> "Welcome to the Chamber of Witnesses. We are not judges. We are... the mirror of your choices."
The Chamber of Witnesses was utterly silent, but it was a heavy silence, like an ocean pressing down on a frozen world.
Kaelya swallowed hard:
— I don't feel watched. I feel... dismantled.
Elion clenched his fist and looked around:
— The mirror of our choices? That sounds worse than an execution.
Albert stepped into the center of the circle. The silhouettes did not move, but each seemed to absorb a part of him, like a mirror that steals your reflection.
A different voice rose, unlike the first:
> "We are not here to show you what you've done... but what you might become, if you keep walking forward."
The stones beneath their feet lit up — and from them, living projections emerged like floating holograms:
— Kaelya, crowned, with a red sword in hand, staring down at a world in flames.
— Elion, alone on a mountaintop, ruling a kingdom built on bones.
— Albert... sitting on a black throne, one hand stretched out toward no one. A world with no one else left.
Kaelya stepped back in horror:
— That's not what I want! That's not who I am!
> "But it is who you could become. If the choice became necessary," the voice replied.
Elion trembled.
— What if the choice isn't mine?
> "Then it will be the world's. And the world rarely chooses gently."
Albert looked at his own vision. Not with fear, but with a kind of old pain.
— What you're doing here… isn't warning us. It's preparing us.
The silhouettes gave no answer. Instead, the lights dimmed, and the visions faded.
A final voice, deep and clear, echoed:
> "You have been seen. You have been recorded. Now, you are recognized."
The floor fragmented into concentric rings, and a new portal opened.
Albert turned to the others:
— We've passed. But not beyond. Just… deeper.
Kaelya sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder.
— Then let's go. Deeper.
Elion chuckled:
— Great. Another step and we'll be speaking in metaphors all day.
And once more, they stepped forward.
Without fear. But also without answers.
Only the echo of their own reflection in their minds.
The Shadows That Prepare
On the eastern continent, within the imposing halls of Thirwen Academy, a boy with two-toned hair — black and white — stared at magical world maps suspended in the air.
His name was Kaelor Vey, and his blood held a secret: he was the descendant of a legendary hero... and the son of a traitor. Now, he had been chosen to represent the academy in the Intercontinental Magic Tournament.
— It's not just a tournament, he murmured. It's a selection. A... sorting.
Beside him, the academy's headmistress, a cold woman with eyes like shattered glass, spoke flatly:
— Keep an eye on the participants from Ismir. Something... is stirring there.
In the west, at the Shadow Vale Academy, two brothers dueled in silence. No spectators. No applause. No teachers.
— If we're chosen, we must control our aura. Not unleash it like savages, said the older brother, Alan.
— I don't want to be chosen. I want to be free, replied the younger, Dray.
And in the north, at the Sanctuary of Preserved Light, a girl with silver skin and violet eyes stood within a rune circle.
Spy. Agent. Double-player.
— Infiltration complete, she said into a small communication crystal. Two of the professors are on our side.
— Your mission is to deactivate the protective barrier on the second day of the tournament, came the response.
She closed her eyes.
— Understood.
In a space between worlds, the Eternal Council watched in silence. They would not interfere. But they recorded everything.
— Albert walks deeper. But so do the others, said an elder with a beard of light.
— The world fractures from above, not below, added another.
And Zhelenya, in her office at Ismir, already knew:
— The tournament isn't the beginning. It is the test. Those who survive… will write the new order.
In the forbidden catacombs of Lunaris Academy, another figure awoke after decades of isolation.
A former champion of the tournament from 200 years ago. Thought lost. Declared dead.
His name no longer appeared in any book, but his skin bore the marks of magic that didn't belong to this age. Around his neck, a necklace with inverted runes pulsed red.
— If they want the world to move forward, he whispered, then I'll pull it back.
At the southern edge of the continent, inside a temple abandoned by gods, four hooded figures stood in a circle.
— The intel is confirmed, said the first. Albert exists. His power is… beyond limit.
— But he's not alone. Kaelya, Elion, and those from the North... they could unbalance everything.
— We must trigger conflict between the academies. In the chaos of the tournament… the world will reconfigure itself.
— And if Albert doesn't intervene?
— Then we will.
In the forbidden libraries of Ismir Academy, Zhelenya walked among the stone shelves, reading without touching. Letters floated in the air.
— The chosen ones aren't just students. They're pillars. And each pillar can become a column… or bring everything crashing down.
In the icy towers of the Order of the Fifth Flame, far to the North, a blind boy stared through a sphere of light:
— I won't be in the tournament… but I'll know every move. I don't need eyes. I have the echo of truth.
And in a dimension torn from time, the Entity that once looked into Albert's eyes opened its palm.
Inside it, a distorted projection of a circle of academies… all united. And then… broken in two.
— It will begin earlier than it was written.
At the center of all these threads, a silent name was forming.
A name not written by the world... but by the world beyond the world.
> "Albert."
In a small village on the edge of the continent, a child with gray eyes had drawn a magic circle into the dirt... though he had never learned runic writing.
— You dreamed it again? his mother asked.
The boy nodded. But the voice that answered didn't belong to him:
— "The tournament isn't for those who are ready. It's for those who have no choice."
In the imperial capital, beneath a throne room lined with blue crystal, the Crown Mage warned the emperor:
— If you don't send a representative, it will seem we do not recognize the tournament. But if you do… they will be drawn into the schemes of the unseen.
— The Empire does not fear shadows, the sovereign replied. But let us not forget: light, too, can lie.
On a floating island between continents, a group of independent mages held council.
They belonged to no academy. They were known as the Uncalled.
— It will begin without us, said a woman with fire in her hair.
— But it will end with us, added a man without a shadow.
— What do we do with Albert?
— We watch him. But we don't touch him. Not yet.
In the depths of a forbidden forest, a hybrid creature — with horns, claws, and eyes like stars — opened a book that had never been written.
On a blank page, a single word slowly burned itself into place in a primordial language:
> "He comes."
And somewhere, in a corner of the world where time did not flow the same, an old clockmaker repaired an impossible timepiece. A clock with eight hands, each ticking in a different rhythm.
— None of them are his. But soon… all of them will be.
He placed the clock back on the shelf.
Next to seven others.
Training Before the Storm
Thirwen Academy – Hall of Gold
In a hall sculpted from marble and steel, Kaelor Vey closed his eyes. Around him, ten magical projectors generated attack illusions — blades of light, clawed shadows, temporal explosions.
— Focus on breathing, not on intensity, his mentor said.
Kaelor didn't answer. Instead of defending, he advanced.
— Power isn't defended. It's imposed.
With a single motion, he shattered all illusions. The room trembled. The instructors watched in silence.
Ismir Academy – Forbidden Garden
The training wasn't physical, but mental.
Zhelenya sat at a stone table, watching four students bound by transparent magical chains.
— You must learn to strike with thought, not with gesture.
One student began to bleed from the eyes. Another burst into tears. But none of them stopped.
— The tournament isn't won by beauty, said Zhelenya. It's won by survival.
Shadow Vale Academy – Grotto of the Double Self
Alan and Dray fought in silence. Every strike was mirrored — the grotto was enchanted to reflect each move with an opposite version.
— If you can't defeat your darkest self... you can't defeat anyone, said their trainer from the shadows.
Alan hesitated. In front of him, his mirrored self smirked with contempt.
— I wouldn't hesitate, the double whispered. That's what makes you weak.
Northern Sanctuary – Circle of the Inner Voice
The silver-skinned girl, the infiltrator, sat in a meditative stance.
— You don't have to win. You only need to create the moment of fracture.
In her mind, a doubled voice whispered on repeat:
> "Disrupt their rhythm. Break their logic. And they'll fall on their own."
She opened her eyes. The stone beneath her had melted.
Lunaris Academy – The Obsidian Ring
The long-lost former champion held a black sword that reflected no light.
Around him, young tournament candidates attacked in a group.
He didn't strike. He only defended — with brutal precision.
— What is magic without control? one asked.
— A forgotten legend.
With a single spin, he disarmed them all.
The Uncalled Orders – Training on the Open Wind
The woman with flame hair ran across a bridge suspended between two cliffs, while the man without a shadow drew magic circles in the air.
— We'll fight in the end… but not against the others. Against what remains of the world after the others fall.
And during all this time...
Albert, Kaelya, and Elion kept walking. Unaware of who awaited them.
Unaware… that everyone was already watching.