Space no longer had boundaries.
And yet, Albert walked on something — an invisible surface that recognized only intention, not form. Around him there was no light, but no darkness either. It was the absence of all things that had not yet been created.
And still, he was there.
— Interesting, whispered a female voice in the distance.
— Usually, no one remains whole after the passage.
Albert didn't turn.
— That's because no one has stepped here consciously, he answered calmly.
— I knew where my steps would lead.
A spiral cloud began to gather around him, forming into a feminine figure. But it wasn't human. Nor divine. It was made of possibility.
— You are the first to open this path without falling apart.
— I didn't open it, he said.
— I accepted it.
The woman smiled. Her eyes were extinguished stars, and her hair flowed like frozen time.
— What are you seeking here, Echo Who Creates Realities?
Albert took another step. With each step, space curved, as if the very essence of the place was his guide.
— What I seek is not an object.
— It is the answer to a question I felt as a child, but never voiced.
— And what question is that?
Albert stopped. He raised a hand.
— Why does suffering exist… in a universe where I can exist too?
For the first time, the feminine figure flinched. A fragment of chaos passed through her.
— Because you were never meant to exist.
Albert looked up at the nothingness around him.
— That's exactly why I'm here.
— To learn how everything can exist… even what was never meant to.
The figure unraveled into a veil of sound.
And in that sound… a door opened.
The sound of the door opening wasn't noise, but a vibration in the very being of reality. Albert didn't look back. He didn't rush. He simply… stepped through.
And the moment the threshold was crossed, the world changed.
It wasn't a new world. It was an idea.
An idea that had never before been thought.
The landscape was strange. It was a forest, but the trees had no bark — instead, they were torches of memories. The air wasn't made of oxygen, but of thoughts. The soil was formed of abandoned choices — and with every step, Albert felt the weight of decisions others had never had the strength to finish.
— Here… everything that was refused has been planted, he said.
A voice, older than silence itself, replied:
— And everything that was lost… has sprouted.
Albert stopped. In front of him, on a bench made of transparent wood, sat an old man. He had no face. Just a contour of soft light, like a torch extinguished by regret.
— Who are you? Albert asked.
— A keeper.
— Not of time, but of unfulfillments.
— I watch over all that was never meant to be.
— And why was I brought here?
— Because you touched something even the Creators never dared.
— You opened a path that was never written.
— And for that… you must see where it leads.
Albert looked around.
The forest was vast, yet seemed to have no direction. Everything was round. At its center: a well. From it flowed not water, but voice.
— The well answers only one question, said the old man.
— But once asked… everything changes.
Albert stepped toward the well.
— Then I will ask.
— But not for myself.
— Then for whom?
— For everything that was forgotten.
The old man smiled. Without a mouth, but with an expression that bent the world.
— Then ask.
Albert leaned gently. His voice dropped like a drop of light into the well:
— If everything that never happened… had a chance, what would the world look like?
And then… the ground trembled.
The trees screamed.
Thoughts condensed into a red sky.
And from the well… a child rose.
A seven-year-old boy, with black hair, green eyes, and a lost expression.
Albert looked at him. In him, he recognized something deep. Too familiar.
— I… am what you would've been if… if you hadn't been chosen, the boy said.
— You're the child who died the day I was summoned, Albert whispered.
The boy nodded.
— And yet… I didn't die.
— I was just forgotten.
Albert approached him. Not with fear. But with reverence.
— And now?
— Now you have the chance to choose.
— To take me with you…
— Or to let me disappear.
Albert closed his eyes.
— No one disappears…
— As long as there's someone who remembers.
And in that moment, the sky cleared.
The boy vanished… but not into oblivion.
Into Albert's heart.
After the child vanished into Albert's heart, the forest of forgotten ideas fell silent.
For the first time since entering this reality, Albert felt… there was nothing more to uncover here. Not because the place had ended, but because he had fully understood it.
And yet, the forest did not vanish.
— So, you asked what might have been, said the faceless old man once more.
— Now comes the question you didn't dare to speak.
Albert turned toward him.
— No longer necessary.
— None of these questions hold power over me anymore.
The old man blinked… if he could be said to have eyelids.
— But you were sent here for a test. It is not yet complete.
Albert stepped forward. With every step, the forest wilted. The trees became shadows. The well dried. The air grew clearer.
— No, he said.
— I wasn't sent. I chose to step in. And now, I choose to leave.
Suddenly, a light opened in the air — a fissure in the fabric of the cosmos.
No one emerged from it. But a force began to pulse.
Albert's left eye flared with a brilliant turquoise glow.
Everything stopped.
—
Turquoise – Connection to dead dimensions.
—
An invisible wave rippled through the forest.
Forgotten realities retreated into orderly spirals. Abandoned decisions turned back to dust. Space itself was being rewritten around Albert, who was no longer walking — but reconfiguring.
The old man's voice dissolved:
— Not even the First Word would have dared…
— I'm not the First Word, Albert replied.
— I am what comes after.
And then, the forest was swallowed by a turquoise light — not blinding, but gentle… and absolute.
—
[Temple of the Nine – Heart Chamber]
Kaelya looked up abruptly.
— He's coming.
Zhelenya, beside her, held her breath. A magic circle formed around them, though no one had triggered it.
— The turquoise has activated, she whispered.
— He's the first to... ignite it on his own.
—
[The Tournament – Arena]
All the students fell to their knees. Not out of fear. But from reverberation. They couldn't even see Albert. But they felt him.
— He's returning! someone cried.
A wall of light opened in the sky above the arena.
—
[Albert – Between Dimensions]
His gaze was calm. His left eye still glowed turquoise. A trail of energy followed his steps, cleansing all shadows and echoes behind him.
Before him opened a round gate. Not one of the Nine.
But his own creation.
— You wanted to test me, he whispered.
— But you never asked what happens when the test bores me.
He stepped through.
The turquoise light did not fade. It deepened into Albert's body, imprinting a mark onto his skin — not one visible, but felt across all worlds at once. It was a cosmic seal of recognition. No one gave him that mark. He claimed it himself.
The air around him no longer consisted of anything known. Only the vibration of intent. Albert floated for a moment in a boundless space, where each second was a question, and each heartbeat — a silent answer.
From afar, the faceless old man's voice returned in a whisper:
— Not all doors are meant to close. Some... are left ajar for others.
Albert smiled faintly.
— No one would survive this place. Not without being unmade.
— Perhaps that's precisely the lesson they need.
Albert didn't reply. Instead, he reached back with his hand, and behind him closed an invisible door. Not one of the Nine. It had never been written. But with that gesture, the test ended.
— It's done, he said.
— I've seen all there is to see.
— And now the world must carry on. With or without my understanding.
A small star, the size of a grain of sand, fell from nowhere onto his shoulder. Where it touched, his skin pulsed turquoise... then returned to normal. That spot had been marked forever in universal time.
Around Albert, space folded gently — like a fabric returning to its original shape. It wasn't magic. It was acceptance.
—
[Shaken Realm – At the Edge of Real Space]
In a field of suspended crystals, three nameless entities rose from meditation in unison.
— He withdrew.
— He closed his own door.
— He ended a test… without completing it.
— No, one of them corrected.
— He defined the test.
— And that makes it unrepeated forevermore.
—
[Temple of the Nine – Threshold of Restoration]
Albert began to see the borders of the known world. Faded silhouettes. Walls reassembling. Echoes of beings he had known.
He paused and sighed.
— Did you miss me? he murmured.
In front of him, a blurred figure began to take form.
— You made the world tremble, said Zhelenya, appearing from the reflection of a fractured wall.
— That's what your 'absence' looks like.
— Then what will my presence mean?
Zhelenya tilted her head and smiled.
— A new chapter. For all of us.
The walls of the Temple of the Nine regained their consistency, but time had yet to resume. It was as if reality itself awaited Albert's decision — whether he truly wished to return.
His steps touched the temple floor, but no sound echoed. The air was dense, silent, heavy.
— I never asked you… Kaelya's voice came from a shadow of light.
— What did you see there? Beyond the doors?
Albert didn't stop.
— I saw what was never meant to be.
— I felt what should never have been touched.
— And I became what was never planned to exist.
Kaelya stepped in front of him. Her eyes were clear. No fear. No doubt.
— Are you the same?
Albert raised an eyebrow slightly.
— No. But not someone else either. I am… the continuation.
—
Behind them, a wave of vibration passed through the air. A white sphere, made of echoing thoughts, slowly descended from the temple's ceiling.
Zhelenya looked up. For the first time, she smiled.
— It has awakened. The Heart of the Temple.
Kaelya blinked.
— And what does that mean?
— That he… is accepted. Not as a visitor. Not as one tested. But as part of the temple.
—
Albert stopped. Behind him, the newly created door — the one belonging to no trial — closed with a soft thud. A circle of light traced itself beneath his feet. The turquoise pulse faded.
Only he remained.
No color.
No light.
Just him.
— It's over, he said quietly.
And in that moment…
Time began to flow again.
—
[The Arena – The Tournament]
The moment frozen by Albert's return exploded back into motion in a single heartbeat. Students fell, teachers looked skyward, and the sky… split into pure white light.
From it, Albert descended.
Nothing extravagant. No sounds. Just a simple presence.
Zhelenya appeared at the edge of the platform.
— The tournament hasn't ended.
Kaelya added:
— But the game has changed.
Albert smiled.
— Then… let's see who's still playing.
In the Shadow of the Shifted Game
—
[The Tournament – Beneath the Mechanisms]
In a chamber below the central arena, inscribed with forbidden glyphs and occult devices, two supervisors from the Order of Silent Watchers stared into a holographic horizon. Neither seemed surprised. But their eyes didn't blink.
— He has returned, said the one with the silver mask.
— Not as a participant, added the other.
— But as a pivot.
—
[Temple of the Nine – The Closed Chamber of the Deans]
The walls of magical respiration trembled slightly. Behind a smoky mirror, three feminine silhouettes contemplated what had just been allowed.
— He no longer needs to understand.
— Now he only needs to decide.
One of them touched the mirror. From the touch, a greenish mist flowed out.
— And yet… will he want to continue?
— If he doesn't, the entire world will decide for him.
—
[Sanctuary of Silence – On the Continent of Smoke]
One of the Silent Saints, beings who don't speak but send echoes into the minds of the chosen, bowed gently toward a cold altar. At its center, a flower grown in the absence of light vibrated.
— He has broken an axis of comprehension.
— He has become… the trigger.
—
[Zhelenya – Atop the Watcher's Tower]
With one hand on the cold edge of the rooftop, Zhelenya stared at the restored sky. But her eyes held no peace. Only anticipation.
Kaelya joined her silently.
— Do you feel it too?
— Yes.
— It's as if…
— …the world is waiting to breathe. But only after Albert speaks.
—
[Plane of Living Shadows – Silence of the Subconscious]
A formless entity floated in an abyss woven from forgotten promises.
— He has returned.
— But something remained where no one should remain.
— A part of him?
— Or a sign for others?
Silence gave no answer.
Only a pulse.
White.
Silent.
Decisive.