In this world, the gods were known as the Ascended. They had not always been divine.

  Once, they had been mortal – humans, elves, and countless other races, nothing remarkable. But at some point in their lives, they received what is called the Higher Blessing, and they rose beyond the limits of mortality.

  Kel had never given it much thought. What exactly was that “Higher Blessing”? Who granted it?

  He had always treated it as just another rule of the world. Something that simply was.

  Until now.

  Kel looked at the boy beside him.

  “You’re the one who creates them?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Vanakt replied.

  The boy’s tone was calm – so calm it almost sounded absurd. As if they were discussing nothing more important than breakfast tea.

  “I try to manage my time and resources wisely,” Vanakt continued. “Even mine aren’t unlimited. The Ascended help me deal with certain matters.”

  Resources?

  Time?

  He was talking about gods like they were assistants.

  Kel frowned.

  “Do they know about you?”

  “In a sense,” Vanakt said. “Yet in another… they simply don’t.”

  Then he fell silent, clearly unwilling to elaborate.

  Instead, the boy tilted his head up toward the sky. Heavy clouds hung low above them, thick with rain. Only then did Kel notice it.

  The rain never touched the boy.

  Not a single drop.

  Vanakt’s hair remained dry. His clothes looked as though he were standing indoors. Kel looked down at his own jacket.

  Dark wet patches spread across the fabric.

  Great.

  Vanakt turned toward him.

  “That,” he said, his voice suddenly colder, “is exactly the problem.”

  Kel frowned.

  “What is?”

  “Why didn’t you protect yourself from the rain?” the boy asked.

  Kel opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

  Vanakt’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “You’re a mage. But you only use your spells in battle – or when there’s no other choice.

  You’re always hiding, always holding back… and in doing so, you’re throwing away your own potential.

  Do you even realize what you’re losing??

  Kel felt irritation surge through him.

  A furious answer was already pushing its way to the surface.

  Because you dragged me into this world without a single explanation.

  Thanks for the rare danger notifications, by the way.

  very

  And another thank you for dropping me into the body of a wanted fugitive instead of the hero.

  And the best part? I can’t even properly use the powers I was given.

  He opened his mouth to say all of it.

  Vanakt spoke first.

  “I understand.”

  Kel froze.

  “…You know, reading people’s thoughts is rude,” Kel snapped.

  Vanakt didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

  “Casting void spells on people or breaking their noses isn’t very polite either,” the boy replied calmly.

  A small pause.

  “Yet that never stopped you. So why should I restrain myself and go against my nature?”

  Kel frowned. That answer didn’t make him feel any better.

  “Are you watching my every move?” Kel asked.

  “Not every move,” Vanakt said. “But whenever I receive a danger alert, I try to make sure everything is under control.”

  Kel stood up from the bench and walked a few steps away. Cold drops slid from his hair and down the back of his collar. Kel twitched his shoulders irritably. By now he was completely soaked. There was no point casting a repelling spell anymore.

  Vanakt watched him.

  “ Why would it be pointless? ” the boy asked. Then he gave a small shrug.“Well. Suit yourself.”

  Kel forced the irritation back down before it could spill over again.

  There were more important things to ask.

  “You were talking about the Ascended.”

  Vanakt nodded. Then the boy said it. Calmly.

  “I want you to become one of them.”

  Kel blinked.

  “...You want me to what?”

  Again, that casual tone.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  As if Vanakt had just said the sugar for the tea was finished. This wasn’t casual at all. This was offering someone the chance to become something like a god.

  Kel felt like the boy was mocking him.

  “I’m serious,” Vanakt said. His voice stayed calm, but there was weight behind it.

  “There are rules I’m bound to follow. For example… tell me, why do you think I didn’t just contact you like this on the very first day?”

  “Because I didn’t have the opportunity.”

  The boy’s words were measured, almost clinical.

  “I can’t influence many things directly. The Creator had a vision for how I should act, and what I should interfere in. My role was to observe. Occasionally, I would send signals… so you wouldn’t get yourself killed too soon, driven by your foolish heroism.”

  Kel noticed it then. Maybe he imagined it.

  But there was a flicker of genuine irritation in Vanakt’s voice when he spoke of the Creator’s decisions.

  Interesting.

  Kel stepped closer to the bench.

  “Then… what’s changed now?”

  “The more active a calamity becomes, the more distortions it creates. That changes the structure of the world… and it gives me openings. The interference of the calamity in your trial was significant. I used the situation to finally… talk properly about everything.”

  Kel frowned.

  “Was it caused by me?”

  The question had been bothering him for a while.

  “The calamity existed long before you arrived,” Vanakt said.

  “What you took as the first sign of its appearance… was actually a symbol that it had grown strong enough to act actively.”

  Kel rubbed his temples and sank back onto the bench.

  It used to be different.

  Or… it should have been different.

  Vanakt shifted slightly closer.

  Kel’s instincts screamed to lean back.

  He had to fight the impulse.

  Vanakt noticed.

  “This space was created by me,” the boy said calmly.

  “Unlike the outside world, here I can touch a living being without causing them harm. So… don’t worry.”

  Kel exhaled slowly.

  “Ascended,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

  And somehow, the conversation kept drifting away from the one topic that mattered.

  “How… how can I become one of them?” he finally asked. Then, almost under his breath, “And why me? Why should I even become Ascended?”

  “It’s simple. You have three paths. If you really want, I can send you back home.”

  Kel’s stomach twisted.

  “But I’m fairly certain you wouldn’t like that option. Do you understand why?”

  Kel nodded. He understood.

  The unpleasant suspicion that had haunted him since he arrived here was finally confirmed.

  He no longer existed in his old world. Returning would mean the end.

  A small wave of sadness washed over him.

  Vanakt’s gaze didn’t soften.

  “The second path – leave everything as it is. Keep hiding. Kill your potential. Kill yourself. Even interesting,” Vanakt continued, “to see which will claim you first – your own body, the Alliance, or the end of the world. My gift… I’ll leave it with you, for what it’s worth.”

  Kel frowned.

  “What gift?”

  “Pure core. Pure magic source. It took me considerable effort, by the way.”

  Kel couldn’t help the sarcasm that slipped out.

  “And you did this purely out of your amazing sense of… philanthropy?”

  He pressed a hand to his chest instinctively.

  “Of course not,” Vanakt said calmly.

  “The Calamity will destroy the world. That means I die with it. You… you’re a very important variable. I could not let this chance pass.”

  Kel swallowed.

  “Why me?”

  Vanakt looked him directly in the eyes.

  And slowly… shook his head.

  “I cannot tell you. Not now. That would be breaking the rules.”

  Kel realized some answers would never come easily.

  “You know… that’s a very convenient position,” Kel snapped.

  “You can justify almost anything with your special rules, and I’m supposed to take your word for it.”

  Vanakt didn’t flinch.

  “Let’s return to the third option,” he said calmly.

  “You start the path to becoming one of the Ascended. This way, both you and I get what we need.”

  Kel’s brow furrowed.

  “And after that? Let me guess… you can’t tell me, right?”

  “Take the first step,” Vanakt said.

  “The path won’t be easy. But you’ll enjoy it. And finally… you can stop pretending to be a good-natured fool. You’ve been terrible at it.”

  “Pretending to be an idiot?”

  “Pretending to be good-natured. The fool part? You’ve got that down perfectly.”

  Kel snorted before he could stop himself. For an impartial System, Vanakt had a terrible personality.

  “You’re one to talk,” the boy said, once again reading his thoughts. “So – do you accept the path I’m offering? Will you help me destroy the Calamity?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly.

  “And more importantly… will you allow me to guide you?”

  He held out his hand.

  Kel hesitated.

  Of course, he wasn’t going to stand by silently while the Calamity destroyed the world. With the System’s support, he could do far more. Becoming Ascended still felt distant. Nearly impossible.

  But… why not try?

  He took the offered hand.

  A moment of burning cold shot through him.

  And just as suddenly, Vanakt released the grip.

  “Excellent. Now… it’s time for you to return.”

  Kel stared at him, confused.

  “That’s it?”

  “What were you waiting for?” Vanakt asked

  “I can’t do everything for you. Don’t forget the rules.

  I can’t hand out blessings just like that.

  So… onward, to a new life and new feats.”

  Kel could have sworn that, despite the calm tone, Vanakt was almost laughing inside – like a real child. Tiny sparks of amusement danced in his usually cold eyes.

  Had the deal delighted him that much… or was Kel’s confusion simply entertaining?

  “Wait!” Kel burst out.

  “I still have a ton of questions.

  What did you mean back then, in the baron’s library?”

  Vanakt had already stood from the bench to leave.

  He stopped.

  “I didn’t leave you any messages back then.”

  He tilted his head to one side. His gaze became cloudy, distant.

  “You spoke with Vanessa. Then she left. After a while, so did you.

  No danger. Nothing that required my intervention.”

  “But…”

  Kel remembered that day perfectly.

  The lines in the System about Vanessa flashing in his mind.

  And now… the System says nothing happened.

  “I see no messages about Vanessa.

  Neither in my records, nor in your memories.

  You’re mistaken.”

  Kel forced a laugh.

  “Maybe… my mistake. No surprise. Too much has happened, my head spins.”

  He lied.

  Tried to believe it himself.

  “Then… goodbye.

  And don’t ignore my messages. I need you alive.”

  The world collapsed into a single point. Kel’s chest constricted.

  ***

  Kel staggered as the world snapped back into place around him. For a moment the cave floor seemed to tilt under his feet, the stone walls swimming in and out of focus.

  He would have fallen if Alan hadn’t grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Easy,” Alan muttered, steadying him.

  Kel blinked hard, forcing the dizziness back.

  “Guess those spells drain a ton of energy, huh?” Alan went on. “That’s exactly why I’ve never envied mages.”

  “That ritual alone must’ve cost him a ridiculous amount of mana,” Lilia added. “I honestly don’t know how he’s still standing.”

  Kel found himself back in the same cave.

  Judging by the emanations radiating from the magic circle, time in the real world had barely moved at all. It felt as if it had simply stopped. Kel had returned to the exact moment the System had pulled him away.

  He pressed the back of his hand to his nose, where a thin trickle of blood was still running.

  He really hoped Vanakt would deal with his health problem first. Preferably before Kel’s body decided to fall apart completely.

  A few steps away, Den and Farden stood near the cave wall. They had clearly been talking during the ritual – Den’s hands were still moving as if he’d been in the middle of explaining something – but both of them had gone quiet when Kel returned.

  Kel didn’t bother asking what they had been discussing. There were more important things to worry about.

  He closed his eyes for a second. Not to rest. To feel.

  “We need to get out of here,” Kel said.

  The others immediately looked at him.

  “And fast,” he added.

  Alan frowned. “Why?”

  Kel glanced toward the dark tunnel they had entered from.

  “The tunnels on this side are starting to close.”

  That was all it took. No one argued. No one asked more questions.

  A second later they were moving. Then running.

  They weren’t searching for safety this time.

  They were searching for weakness. For the place where the fabric of the pocket space grew thin enough to break through.

  Kel forced himself to run faster. He felt it. A faint distortion ahead.

  Kel skidded to a stop and raised a hand.

  “Wait.”

  The others nearly ran into him.

  He pointed toward the tunnel ahead.

  “There.”

  The air in that section of the passage shimmered faintly, like heat rising from sun-scorched stone.

  Except there was no heat.

  Only the fragile boundary of a collapsing pocket world.

  “Looks like we found our exit,” he said.

  The walls trembled.

  At first it was barely noticeable – a faint shiver running through the stone.

  Then the rock began to ripple.

  “Confidence like that is rarely a good idea.”

  The voice sounded directly inside Kel’s head.

  And yet… it seemed he wasn’t the only one who could hear it.

  Kel remained standing, but the moment the voice echoed through the cavern, his companions collapsed to their knees, clutching their ears.

  They tried to block the sound. It didn’t help.

  Kel’s eyes widened as he saw thin streams of blood trickling between Lilia’s fingers as she pressed her hands against the sides of her head.

  The voice continued, calm and almost amused.

  “Shame, really. You already made a deal with that lying bastard.”

  A faint pause followed.

  Then the voice returned, colder this time.

  “How did you manage to believe a single word he said?”

  “wanakt-.” A long-lost civilization used it to refer to rulers, kings, and military leaders. Even today, traces of it survive in the modern word “anax.”