Far from Ace's workshop—
far beyond the kingdom's borders—
in a place where maps refused to stay still…
A figure stood before a massive pool of liquid starlight.
The surface rippled, showing images:
A kitten-shaped upcycler.
A glowing scarf.
A shattered cursed mirror.
A dragon reorganizing gold into labeled sections.
The figure chuckled.
"So… you've stabilized already."
A gloved hand stirred the pool.
The image shifted to Ace, asleep in his workshop, curled in a nest of fabric scraps.
"So small," the figure murmured.
"So stubborn."
Behind the figure, gears turned.
Not metal—
conceptual gears, etched with symbols of time, fate, and probability.
"You were never meant to be a hero," the figure continued.
"You were meant to be… a correction."
The pool flared.
A memory surfaced—
Ace's old world.
Late nights.
Project timelines.
Unreasonable clients.
Fixing problems nobody else wanted.
The figure nodded approvingly.
"You didn't seek power.
You sought order."
The pool zoomed in.
The Relic of Dimensional Memory glowed faintly in Ace's workshop.
The figure's eyes sharpened.
"That relic should not have awakened yet."
A ripple of irritation spread.
"It responds to you because you are a hinge-point.
A convergence of too many improbabilities."
The figure raised a hand.
Symbols appeared in the air—
lists, diagrams, flowcharts made of light.
"You create stability where chaos should grow."
The figure clenched their fist.
"That… is a problem."
The pool shifted again.
This time showing Ace helping:
A Minotaur dancing confidently
A dragon smiling proudly at an organized hoard
A boy learning to feel without fear
Each image dimmed slightly.
"Connections," the figure whispered.
"Emotional anchors."
Behind the figure, a shadow stirred.
A distorted shape with too many eyes and too many hands.
"Prepare Phase Two," the figure said calmly.
The shadow bowed.
"Target?" it rasped.
The figure smiled.
"Not the cat."
The pool shimmered—
showing the scarf.
Showing the boy.
Showing the girl.
"Break the stability.
Let the cat watch his solutions fail."
The shadow dissolved into darkness.
The figure turned away from the pool.
"Let us see," they murmured,
"how well a manager handles a problem he cannot schedule."
---
Back at the workshop…
Ace stirred in his sleep.
His ear twitched.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
He felt uneasy.
Not fear.
Not danger.
But the sense of a deadline approaching.
Ace muttered sleepily,
"…why do I feel like someone just added a critical task without telling me…"
The Relic of Dimensional Memory pulsed once.
Then went still.