Several months had passed since Aster Collins stepped onto a stage and casually introduced the future to the world.
The future had arrived anyway, though not all at once and certainly not with the apocalyptic fanfare some had predicted. Instead, it arrived one impossible achievement at a time until people stopped questioning whether something could be done and started wondering how long it would take Charlotte to accomplish it.
Lumen Enterprise, unsurprisingly, was responsible for most of those achievements.
Lumen Enterprise continued expanding at a pace that economists described using increasingly creative forms of panic. Entire markets had been reshaped within months. Several industries were still attempting to understand what had happened to them. Others were simply trying to survive.
Mana reactors represented perhaps the most obvious example. What began as limited demonstrations rapidly evolved into public infrastructure as cities, transportation networks, and research facilities adopted the technology at an accelerating pace. Entire regions began replacing traditional fuel sources with reactor systems powered by atmospheric mana.
Power companies hated every second of it.
Unfortunately, they also lacked practical solutions. Several executives reportedly discussed "dealing with the problem," but those conversations usually ended the moment someone reminded everyone that the problem in question was Charlotte Sweeiz, the Heretical Witch. After that, nobody seemed particularly eager to continue the discussion.
Eidolons experienced a similar rise in popularity. Their presence had yet to become universal, but they were common enough that seeing one no longer surprised most people. Hunters operating within territories protected by the Witching Hour frequently traveled alongside them, treating them as trusted companions rather than unusual magical constructs.
Some Eidolons manifested as weapons, others served as scouts, and many preferred acting as support companions during expeditions. A few simply enjoyed talking.
Those were often considered the most dangerous.
Daily-life magic followed a similar path. The public gradually adapted to magic becoming part of everyday life as portal stations became familiar sights and enchanted services began appearing in cities across both worlds. Magical communication systems expanded as well, though they existed alongside the internet rather than replacing it, often being used for specialized magical services, cross-world communication, or situations where traditional technology could not reach.
What had once been considered extraordinary slowly became routine.
Then came the Lunarium. The institution continued producing graduates at a rate that increasingly alarmed traditional covens. Many Bareblood households now had at least one wizard or witch among their family members, a situation that had been almost impossible before Charlotte opened its doors to them.
Her decision to accept Bareblood students had permanently changed the magical landscape. Knowledge that once required generations of inherited training could now be obtained through proper education from her teachers. It was not easy, but it was consistent. Many graduates returned to their covens and organizations carrying knowledge that would have made them respected figures only a few years earlier. Some became leaders. Others became researchers. A few even became celebrities within the magical community.
The most sought-after graduates remained the participants of Lunarium's Witch's Duel. The competition had developed an almost mythical reputation, with organizations attempting to recruit contestants, covens offering positions, and research groups providing funding. Some wealthy families even attempted marriage proposals, which quickly became the most annoying part for many participants. Most politely declined and remained at Lunarium for a simpler reason.
They wanted Charlotte to notice them.
Then there were the names everyone knew. Aurora Welsch. Emilia Willow. Theodore D'Arcel. Charlotte's first disciples. Three individuals who had already become legends within the magical world, representing the kind of power and recognition many Lunarium students hoped to one day achieve.
Among every student there existed the quiet belief that perhaps they could become the fourth. The next person Charlotte would personally recognize. The next disciple who would stand beside her.
Charlotte, meanwhile, remained completely unaware that this entire competition existed.
Then came Project Luna. Slowly, while the world adapted to its new reality, Charlotte had already grown bored.
Inside Lumen Enterprise, activity began increasing at an unusual pace. Entire departments appeared seemingly overnight, research budgets expanded, facilities received new security clearances, and personnel transfers became increasingly common. Noah and Wyatt spent more time traveling between worlds, searching for specialists rather than resources.
At first, nobody paid much attention. Then people noticed who they were recruiting. Engineers. Physicists. Astronomers. Rune specialists. Spatial magic witches. Aether theorists. Some of the most talented individuals in their respective fields quietly disappeared into Lumen Enterprise, leaving the public to wonder what could possibly require that level of expertise.
Naturally, rumors followed. Those rumors intensified after an internal designation accidentally became public.
Project Luna.
That was all anyone knew. No explanations followed, no descriptions, no announcements. Just two words. Project Luna.Speculation exploded immediately. Some believed it involved VRain. Others suspected Blueprint. A few convinced themselves it was a weapon. Conspiracy forums suffered permanent psychological damage trying to interpret the implications.
The truth, however, remained hidden. Not because it was impossible to find, but because Lumen Enterprise had simply stopped answering questions about it entirely.
Charlotte, meanwhile, looked at the designation once, paused for a moment, then quietly returned to her work.
Eventually, the question reached Charlotte during one of Lumen Enterprise's public expos. A reporter asked what Project Luna actually was, causing the audience to immediately fall silent as several cameras focused on her. Everyone expected an answer.
Charlotte looked at the reporter and smiled. It was the kind of smile that had historically preceded ideas nobody was prepared for. She briefly glanced upward before giving the only explanation she was willing to provide: whatever Project Luna was, it was another impossible project, and people would probably like it.
Then she walked away into one of her portals.
The explanation somehow generated more questions than answers. Nobody needed to be a genius to understand what Charlotte's upward glance and the name Project Luna implied. The real question was what exactly she planned to do about it. Deep within Lumen Enterprise, behind layers of security, magical barriers, and increasingly concerned budget reports, preparations continued for whatever Charlotte had decided was the next impossible thing.