The corridor was silent.
Too silent.
Aster stopped in front of the old stairwell—its wooden boards warped, its brass railings tarnished like forgotten bone. He shouldn't have been here. The stairwell led to the Sealed Wing, an area of the academy only professors could access. Yet his feet had moved on their own, as if pulled by a thread he could not see.
A whisper pressed against the back of his skull.
Come back… come back… you left something behind.
Aster clenched his teeth.
"That voice again."
He inhaled slowly and stepped downward.
Each step groaned under his weight, echoing like a heartbeat. The deeper he walked, the thicker the air became—warped, trembling, as if reality struggled to hold itself together.
At the bottom of the stairwell was a door.
No name.
No lock.
Just a simple wooden door with a faint shimmer of mana, as if it were breathing.
Aster placed a hand on it.
The wood felt warm.
Alive.
The door clicked open on its own.
---
The Room
The chamber inside was not an academy room.
It was a black expanse filled with floating shards of glass—mirrors fractured into impossible shapes. They drifted around him like silent stars, each reflecting a slightly different version of reality.
Aster stepped inside carefully.
One shard showed the academy hallway behind him—completely normal.
Another showed the same hallway—empty, dark, and covered in dust, as though abandoned for decades.
A third showed him… dead on the floor.
Aster's breath caught.
"What is this…?"
The mirrors chimed like thin bells, rotating, aligning themselves toward him. Then—
Aster Vale.
The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Cold, but familiar.
You finally returned.
The mirrors reshaped, forming a circular wall around him—trapping him inside.
A shadow stepped from one of the reflections.
A shadow wearing his face.
But older. Colder. Eyes drained of light, as if they had watched countless lifetimes collapse.
Aster's throat tightened.
"You…"
The figure smiled thinly.
I am what you become when you choose survival over humanity.
I am the Aster who walked too far… and lost everything.
The temperature dropped instantly.
Aster's fists clenched.
"Why are you appearing now?"
The shadow-Aster tilted his head, studying him like prey.
Because the timeline is cracking again.
Because something has begun hunting you.
Because you are still incomplete.
He stepped closer, his reflection rippling like liquid night.
And because the fragment you carry… was originally mine.
Aster's heart hammered.
"The fragment… the one the Thread-Reaper keeps mentioning?"
Shadow-Aster nodded slowly.
Give it back.
And you will avoid the fate I suffered.
Aster stepped back.
"No."
The shadow's eyes sharpened—cold, disappointed.
Then your world will break before you reach adulthood.
The mirrors shuddered violently, showing flashes of catastrophe:
—The academy collapsing into a temporal rift
—Lyra screaming as she was wiped out like chalk
—Professor Kael torn apart by an unseen force
—Raven's shadow devouring her herself
—Aster, standing alone in a dead world—
Aster staggered.
"What… what is this!?"
Possible futures.
All of them real. All of them waiting.
The shadow reached forward, placing a finger on Aster's forehead.
Aster couldn't move. Something freezing dug into his mind.
You cannot escape what you were meant to become.
And I, more than anyone, know that you do not deserve hope.
Aster forced his body to resist, mana flaring violently—enough to crack the mirrors.
"No—! I'm not you!"
The room trembled as the reflections shattered, releasing a violent surge of paradox mana. The shard-world began collapsing inward, dragging both Astors toward a spiral of darkness.
The shadow smiled as he dissolved like smoke.
Then prove it.
Everything went black.
---
Aster Wakes Up
Aster opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling of the academy infirmary.
His throat was dry. His limbs were heavy. The world felt slightly misaligned.
Someone sat beside him.
Silver hair.
Serious eyes.
Lyra.
She glared at him the moment he stirred.
"You idiot. You collapsed again."
Aster swallowed.
"Lyra… what happened?"
She hesitated—something rare for her.
"You… vanished from the academy's mana grid for twelve minutes. That shouldn't be possible. Even teleportation doesn't do that."
Aster's heartbeat quickened.
Twelve minutes.
Yet he had spent hours—days?—in that mirror realm.
Lyra leaned closer, her expression hardening.
"Aster… something is wrong with you, isn't it?"
Aster looked at her.
And for the first time—
He didn't know what to answer.