1. The Summons
A broad-winged hawk circled over House Verentis, dropped once, and was gone.
In its bronze leg-tube lay parchment pressed with the dragon seal of the Imperial Mage Academy.
> To Lord Achilles Verentis
By decree of His Radiance, First Arch-Chancellor Kestrel, you are invited to enrol in the Winter Convocation of the Academy Arcana Imperialis. Attendance is expected.
"Expected," Achilles murmured, eyes flat. Ordered.
His parents tried to hide their worry.
He only nodded. "I'll go."
What he did not add: because their archive holds root-level spell schematics—and because walking into the lion's den was the quickest way to measure its teeth.
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2. The Quiet Journey
The road to the capital shimmered under early snow.
Inside his shuttered carriage Achilles sat motionless, System text scrolling across his vision.
>>> decrypt META_RUNFILE (phase-1) …
>>> checksum: intact
>>> fragment header:
/* BACKUP-CORE : ACHILLES_ORIGINAL_BUILD */
>>> status: 3 % decoded
The file—gift from the fog-born Echo—refused to open further, but what little he'd seen chilled him.
> build-time stamp: pre-world / pre-mana.
author: A.001
Original… returned.
He replayed the Echo's words:
> "You weren't reborn here—you were returned."
Returned to finish what?
To correct a simulation?
To shut it down?
Or to overwrite it entirely?
The questions rang colder than the wind through the coach slats.
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3. White-Marble Gates
Capital skyline: spires of mana-glass, banners like living flame.
The Academy itself sprawled behind triple walls—part cathedral, part fortress, part laboratory.
Layers of detection wards fluttered as the convoy rolled beneath them.
His System flashed warnings:
>>> multi-vector scan detected
>>> academy scry strength: grade-7
>>> firewall holding … nominal
Students in colored sashes whispered; instructors measured him with the eyes of jewelers evaluating a rare gem—or a dangerous blade.
Arch-Chancellor Kestrel greeted him on the High Court stairs, smile scholarly, eyes calculating.
> "Lord Achilles, our halls await your brilliance. I dare say the Empire has never seen your like."
They still haven't, he thought. They're only looking at the surface layer.
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4. The Orientation Duel List
A herald recited pairings for the week's exhibition bouts:
Rank Opponent Discipline Note
3rd-Tier Ser Calwyn Arvane Sword/Aura 1st-Rate
4th-Circle Initiate Myra Gelor Storm Magic Rapid-chant savant
Special Vacant TBA Imperial Selection
The "special" slot pulsed in red ink—empty, waiting.
Achilles recognised a trap shaped like an honour.
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5. Night Study • Self-Interrogation
In the dormitory tower he unpacked nothing, choosing instead the window ledge.
Below, the Academy's central ley-node hummed—raw mana coursing like server current.
He opened his journal:
> Q1: If I am the source, why was an echo left behind?
Q2: What caused the world fork that killed me, saved me, and rebooted me here?
Q3: What failsafe triggers when the original build reconnects?
No answers. Only another line of scrolling code:
>>> META_RUNFILE (phase-2) locked
>>> request: additional entropy – live core data required
"Live core data…"
He snapped the journal shut.
They want me on their duelling stage, he realised. Because clash-level mana will feed every scry crystal in these walls—and maybe feed the file, too.
So be it.
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6. The Watching Shadows
High in a faculty loft, Agent Bell observed through a pinhole ward.
> "He hasn't smiled once," she whispered to her log.
"He stares at the sky like he owns the source code for sunrise."
Orders were simple: watch.
But even she felt the weight of the question curling through the capital:
> If Achilles Verentis is truly the original…
What happens when he finishes rebooting?