The sun dipped behind the towering spires of the Astralis Dominion Academy, casting long shadows over the trial grounds. Aamon stood before a stone platform carved with ancient runes that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly glow. In the center stood a single obsidian arch, rimmed with a shimmering veil of silvery mist—the Memory Gate.
Around the platform, dozens of participants gathered, each whispering with a mix of awe and fear. For many, it was their first time seeing a Memory Gate. Even for Aamon, who had read about them in ancient texts Lysara provided, seeing one with his own eyes stirred something primal—a sense of time itself watching.
"This is the second trial," the academy official announced. "A test of will, intuition, strength—and fate."
He gestured to the Gate. "This is a Tier 1 Memory Gate. Once entered, you will be sent somewhere into the past—anywhere from ten to a hundred years ago. The distance depends on luck alone."
The murmuring intensified.
"You will receive a mission based on the era you enter. Complete it, and your actions will shape real history. Fail, and history will erase your existence from that timeline."
A few gasps followed.
The man's eyes swept the crowd. "If you die in the past, you die in reality. If you survive but fail the mission, you return unharmed—but nothing changes. If you succeed, the Gate shatters, marking your passage."
Alexia leaned in close to Aamon. "No subordinates allowed, right?"
He nodded. "This one's mine."
She frowned slightly but didn't argue. "Be careful."
Yue stepped forward and gently pressed a small talisman into Aamon's hand. "This won't work inside the Gate, but… just a reminder that you have people waiting for you."
Aamon gave a small smile and stepped onto the platform. The mist around the Gate thickened, swirling like a living thing. The crowd fell silent.
The rules were simple: the Gate didn't choose you—you chose the Gate. But once someone entered, no one else could go in until they returned—or didn't. Time inside could stretch on for years, but only a single second passed outside.
With a deep breath, Aamon stepped through the veil.
A rush of wind and energy tore through his senses, like falling through a river of stars. Then, stillness.
Aamon opened his eyes to find himself in a ruined village—wooden buildings burned to ash, corpses strewn across cobblestone paths, and the smell of blood thick in the air. The sky was dusky red, casting the entire landscape in a haunting light.
—Memory Mission Initiated—
[Mission: Stop the massacre of Vaelridge Village.]
[Timeframe: 12 days.]
[Objective: Defeat the Crimson Fang raiders and save at least 20 villagers.]
Success: Vaelridge's survival will be restored in history. Failure: The massacre remains unchanged.
Warning: Death inside the Gate is permanent.
"Crimson Fang," Aamon muttered. He remembered reading about them. A brutal mercenary faction that terrorized border villages decades ago. History said they wiped out Vaelridge to the last child.
But that could change—if he succeeded.
He scouted the area swiftly, finding a cellar with a hidden trapdoor beneath a destroyed barn. A group of terrified survivors huddled inside—children, elders, a few injured guards. They flinched when Aamon entered, but relaxed when they sensed no hostility.
"I'm here to help," he said. "How many of you can still fight?"
A wounded captain pushed himself forward. "Three of us. But the rest… they're all that's left."
Aamon nodded grimly. "We'll need every hand. Fortify the barn. I'll deal with the scouts before they return."
Over the next two days, he mapped the terrain, ambushed enemy patrols, and salvaged weapons and supplies. He fought with ruthless precision—his techniques now instinctual after six months of closed-door cultivation beneath the Clear Heart Tree. His instincts guided him like a second soul.
On the third night, he found them—nearly forty Crimson Fang raiders camped two miles west. Led by a burly man with molten tattoos—Korran the Ashbrand. 5th Order.
Aamon swallowed. He wasn't even halfway into 4th Order yet.
Still, retreat wasn't an option.
The battle came swiftly.
Aamon set traps, manipulated the terrain, and struck like a ghost in the night. He led small groups into ambushes and whittled their numbers down. Then, finally, Korran came storming into Vaelridge, furious, dragging two captured villagers behind him.
Aamon intercepted him in the main square, the last line of defense.
"I thought the village was empty," Korran sneered, cracking his knuckles. "You're not one of them. Who sent you?"
Aamon didn't answer. He simply drew his blade.
The fight that followed shook the village. Korran's strength was overwhelming—each blow like a landslide. But Aamon was faster, smarter. He used the environment, lured Korran into unstable ground, struck at pressure points, dodged when direct clashes would mean death.
Their battle lasted half an hour. The final blow came when Aamon, feigning collapse, used a hidden rune trap to paralyze Korran for half a second—just long enough for his blade to pierce through the raider's heart.
Korran died cursing the sky.
The mission notification came moments later.
—Mission Completed: Vaelridge Saved—
Crimson Fang history altered.
Current year's records updated.
Gate collapsing…
A blinding light engulfed him.
[Reality – Astralis Dominion Trial Ground, 1 second later]
Aamon stumbled forward out of the Gate as it shattered behind him, dissolving into dust. Gasps erupted around him. Only a heartbeat had passed outside.
Alexia caught him before he fell.
"You did it," she whispered.
Yue looked at the space where the Gate had once been. "He changed history."
Aamon, half-conscious, only managed a faint nod.
The crowd around them looked at him with awe—and fear.
Out of thousands of applicants, Aamon had done what many didn't even dare: walk into the past, face death, and return victorious.
The shimmering fragments of the Memory Gate scattered into the air like stardust, dissolving into the wind. Aamon staggered forward, his body drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. Alexia caught him just before he collapsed.
"You did it," she whispered, voice trembling with relief and pride. "You actually changed history."
Yue stood nearby, her expression unreadable, though her clenched fists gave away the tension in her chest. "The village… it really exists now. I saw the change in the archive stone. It's real."
Around them, the other examinees could only stare in stunned silence. Aamon Celastine—the one everyone assumed to be an F-rank—had just survived a Memory Gate, completed the mission, and rewritten a fragment of the world's history.
But even as Aamon leaned into Alexia's support, something felt wrong.
The air grew heavy. The light dimmed. A low hum filled the surroundings, deep and guttural, like an ancient beast awakening.
Behind him, the shattered Memory Gate—its runic arch cracked and dissolving—suddenly pulsed.
A sound like cracking thunder echoed through the ground.
"What the hell—?" Yue's eyes widened.
From the core of the broken Gate, a second arch began to emerge. This one wasn't made of stone, but of black crystal, jagged and writhing as if resisting its own existence. Silver lightning crackled along its surface.
A nested gate.
The crowd recoiled, several academy officials raising protective barriers.
"No—this shouldn't be happening," one of the examiners muttered. "It was supposed to be a Tier 1 gate… how can there be a nested structure inside?!"
The black arch expanded rapidly, ripping through space. Wind howled, whipping everyone's hair and robes around violently. Then, like the vacuum of a collapsing star, the gate began to pull.
"MOVE!" one of the instructors shouted. "That thing is—!"
But it was too late.
Aamon's feet left the ground first, drawn toward the gate like a puppet on invisible strings.
Alexia and Yue, without hesitation, grabbed onto him.
"Aamon!" Alexia shouted, her grip tightening as her wings of blood flared behind her. "You're not going alone!"
Yue activated her spirit steps to resist the pull, trying to anchor them—but the force was unrelenting.
The suction increased exponentially. With a final burst of power, the black Gate roared like a collapsing star and snapped shut, pulling all three of them into its swirling depths.
Then it vanished.
Silence fell across the field.
_Volume 1 has ended_