The shimmering letters on the light screen, born from the merging eyes of the bronze eagles, gradually dissolved and reformed. A new question materialized in sharp, glowing blue script: "Where does time begin?"
Allen found the question profoundly intriguing, yet utterly typical of Ravenclaw's enigmatic nature. Philosophically speaking, Allen knew that time, in a strict sense, was a human-defined construct—a highly abstract parameter that simply manifested the continuity and sequence of motion and change in matter.
It was determined by the unchanging, periodic laws governing matter, such as Earth's rotation or the orbital cycles of celestial bodies. Even Einstein had posited that time and space were illusions of human perception.
However, the bronze door clearly wasn't asking for a treatise on quantum physics or astrophysics. It required a philosophical, insightful approach—a clever turn of phrase that acknowledged the paradox of the question.
Allen, having spent the past half-term practicing on the subtle nuances required to answer the Ravenclaw common room door knocker, gathered his thoughts, a sudden revelation striking him. He offered his answer with absolute conviction:
"The present has just ended, and the future has just begun."
It was a brilliant statement—a philosophical paradox that placed the start of time in the constant, vanishing threshold between the known and the unknown. The heavy bronze door swung inward, silently and slowly, confirming that the ancient intelligence behind it agreed with the elegant simplicity of his response.
Beyond the door, a thick, swirling mist enveloped everything. Allen stepped into this nothingness, and the fog immediately began to shift, coalescing around him until he found himself standing upon the barren, desolate surface of the Moon.
Vast, dusty plains stretched out, dominated by enormous impact craters and ancient basalt lava flows forming dark 'lunar seas.' Allen gazed up in awe at the massive blue planet hanging silent and beautiful in the black void beside him. A few out-of-place, shimmering stars seemed to float eerily close to Earth.
Allen, momentarily dizzied by the sheer beauty and silent mystery of the scene, observed his surroundings carefully. Satisfied there was no immediate danger, he attempted to move, bending down slightly to touch the cold, powdery surface beneath his feet. But the instant his arm extended, the ground beneath him seemed to recoil like a frightened animal, and the lunar landscape dissolved back into the swirling, dense mist.
The entire fog immediately began to coil and spin around Allen. He felt as if he were standing calmly in the eye of a hurricane; the outer layers were turbulent and chaotic, while the center remained perfectly still. Knowing this was an intricate magical illusion, Allen remained perfectly composed, observing the phenomenon. As the fog swirled faster, the outer layers dispersed entirely, and the inner layers gradually faded.
A vast, stunning expanse of outer space appeared before Allen, as if the ceiling of the common room had been magnified countless times, dissolving into the cosmos itself.
A clear, stern, and decidedly feminine voice filled the sudden void: "Only a sorcerer of exceptional wisdom may solve this astronomical puzzle. From your vantage point on the Moon, locate the stray stars you just observed in this universe and return them to their original positions. You have ten minutes. Success permits passage. Failure results in the casting of a powerful Obliviation Charm, causing complete memory loss before teleportation."
The test was far beyond simple academic knowledge. Intelligence, as Ravenclaw defined it, was a high-level, comprehensive synthesis of perception, knowledge, memory, comprehension, and decision-making. This level specifically tested observation, spatial memory, and decision-making under severe duress.
Although Allen possessed a photographic memory courtesy of the University Super Star System, this ability, unfortunately, did not extend to complex, non-textual images or abstract spatial configurations.
In this immense, endless star cluster, locating and correctly repositioning those few aberrant stars with the naked eye in just ten minutes would be a nearly impossible feat, even for a seasoned wizard who routinely drank a specialized brain-boosting protein shake made from six enchanted walnuts every morning.
Just then, a wave of profound relief washed over Allen. He remembered the potent magical artifact still secured in his storage.
He mentally accessed his system's inventory and selected the antique scroll, tied neatly with a vibrant red string. The red string snapped automatically, and the scroll slowly unfurled, revealing the words: "Academic Aura."
The inscription beneath detailed the function: Before use, the activation time must be clearly specified. During the time period covered by the aura, the caster gains an effect of luck and spell amplification stronger than the most potent Felix Felicis. The caster will temporarily possess the wisdom of an ancient and powerful wizard and the accumulated knowledge of three fully stocked magical libraries.
Naturally, Allen immediately chose the maximum duration: "Activate the aura for three minutes."
Allen's mind was instantly flooded with an overwhelming torrent of organized, catalogued knowledge. After a brief, intense stinging sensation and a momentary disorientation, Allen regained his lucidity, now experiencing the breathtaking, intoxicating illusion of omniscience, omnipotence, and complete control.
The astronomical data now imprinted on his mind gave him absolute conceptual command over the stars before him. He scanned the endless starry sky, systematically discarding the fixed, background constellations.
The target stars—the ones he had briefly glimpsed near the phantom Earth—were incredibly clear in his mind. He could instantly detect and map the slightest deviation from their correct positions.
It was almost disappointingly simple. Allen efficiently moved the stray stars to their precise, correct locations in just over two minutes, leaving the remaining time utterly wasted.
Though the cold, stern female voice did not reappear, the sudden violent swirling and shattering of the entire starry sky confirmed the completion of the challenge.
"This level of difficulty is not something a young wizard could easily overcome… in fact, it should be said that even specialized adult wizards skilled in advanced astrology would struggle immensely," Allen mused, the temporary wisdom still guiding his thoughts.
"Why would Ravenclaw establish such an impossible examination? If I hadn't had the Academic Aura, I would have had zero chance of success. Furthermore, exposure to a genuinely powerful Obliviation Charm of that magnitude could cause irreversible magical damage to the brain. Simple 'forgetfulness' is the very mildest side effect."
Before Allen could delve deeper into the implications of the dangerous traps, the cosmic stars in the vast space shattered into countless glittering shards, vanishing in a final, swirling motion.
The pieces before him began to slowly reconstruct, transforming into a towering structure styled as a powerful, medieval fantasy Wizard's Tower. The heavy wooden tower doors opened silently before Allen, and he obediently stepped inside. A light curtain, gossamer-thin and translucent, floated silently in the air, awaiting input.
The light curtain was currently blank, but the stunning, ornate decorations of the room were visible behind it. The tower chamber was a work of art, designed in deep indigo blue and gleaming bronze, furnished with elegant antique-style pieces and luxurious tapestries that looked like museum-quality art.
The ceiling was inlaid with silver-blue dragon scales—Allen, utilizing the remaining traces of the aura's knowledge, concluded they belonged to a Swedish Short-Snout Dragon. A huge, arched crystal chandelier cascaded downwards in a spiral pattern.
The upper portions of the surrounding walls were painted with scenes matching those recorded in the earlier tapestries, yet the artistic technique seemed several hundred years more advanced than the period in which Lady Rowena Ravenclaw was known to have lived.
This discrepancy made Allen intensely uneasy. Historical records were clear: Rowena Ravenclaw had passed away in the eleventh century.
Before Allen could fully process this chronological anomaly, the light curtain in front of him flashed brilliant blue. The complex cosmic star map that had just been shattered reappeared on the screen. An exact, detailed replica of the tower he was currently standing in was displayed in the lower right corner of the star map. Countless delicate silver lines crisscrossed the star map, connecting distant points.
The same unyielding female voice returned: "Hold out your wand, cast the 'Move' spell, and complete the Space Travel Game. If you successfully complete the game, you pass. Failure results in eternal entrapment within the Tower."
Allen understood immediately. This wasn't a puzzle of memory or philosophy, but a sophisticated test of magical control and instantaneous spatial visualization.