Eryndor remained motionless for several seconds after the Tower announced the beginning of the Human Trial, surrounded by thousands of awakened humans who were experiencing the same confusion, fear, and excitement, yet while everyone else was trying to understand their new Talents and Races, Eryndor was struggling with something far more disturbing, because the memories returning to him did not belong to the life he had lived, they belonged to a future that had not happened yet.
Or perhaps, more accurately, a future that had already happened once.
He closed his eyes and tried to organize what he remembered, but the moment he reached for the memories, they scattered like fragments of broken glass, some clear enough to recognize, others blurred beyond comprehension, and some so deeply buried that he could only feel their existence without remembering what they contained.
He remembered cities.
He remembered wars.
He remembered people whose names he couldn’t recall.
He remembered artifacts whose shapes remained clear even when their origins were completely forgotten.
He remembered powerful beings standing above civilizations, and he remembered civilizations disappearing beneath them.
Most disturbing of all, he remembered the end.
But he didn’t remember how it had happened.
That distinction mattered.
His memories showed him events, but not necessarily the reasons behind them.
He could remember that someone had died without remembering who killed them.
He could remember that an organization had risen without remembering who created it.
He could remember an artifact appearing in a certain place without remembering why it had been there.
His memories were not a perfect record of the future.
They were pieces.
Pieces of a life he had apparently already lived.
Eryndor opened his eyes.
The Tower stretched endlessly around him.
A young man several meters away suddenly shouted as flames erupted from his hands, while another participant stumbled backward after discovering that his body had become partially covered in scales.
Different Talents.
Different Races.
Different possibilities.
Eryndor watched them carefully.
In his memories, many of these people had become important.
Some had become heroes.
Some had become enemies.
Some had become monsters.
Some had simply disappeared.
But the people standing before him did not feel like the people he remembered.
Their expressions were different.
Their reactions were different.
Their circumstances were different.
That realization slowly settled inside him.
The future had changed.
Not eventually.
Already.
The moment the Awakening happened, the timeline had begun moving away from the future he remembered.
Eryndor suddenly felt a strange mixture of relief and fear.
Relief because the terrible future was no longer certain.
Fear because his memories were becoming less reliable with every change.
He could no longer assume that something would happen simply because he remembered it.
The Tower suddenly spoke again.
[Trial parameters established.]
A transparent screen appeared before Eryndor.
[Participant: Eryndor Vaelith.]
[Race: Undetermined.]
Eryndor frowned.
His Race had awakened.
Why would the Tower display it as undetermined?
He focused on the information.
The answer slowly became clear.
His Race had awakened, but the Tower was still evaluating the exact expression of his existence, something that apparently could not be completely determined by the initial Awakening alone.
Then another line appeared.
[Talent: Undetermined.]
Eryndor’s eyes narrowed.
That was even stranger.
He knew that every awakened being received exactly one Talent.
Yet the Tower couldn’t identify his.
Something about him was interfering with its evaluation.
The mirror pendant became slightly colder.
Eryndor touched it.
So that was connected.
Whatever the pendant had been doing to his memories was probably also affecting the Tower’s ability to understand him.
He decided not to investigate further.
Not yet.
A sudden shout came from nearby.
“Move!”
Eryndor turned.
A man was running directly toward him.
Behind the man, the floor of the Trial Space had transformed into a rapidly expanding field of stone spikes.
The man leapt over one, barely avoiding it.
Eryndor stepped aside as another spike emerged where he had been standing.
The man continued running.
“It’s starting!”
Eryndor watched him disappear into the crowd.
The Trial had begun.
Unlike an ordinary examination, the Tower did not appear to be giving everyone the same challenge.
The environment around each participant was changing according to their individual characteristics.
Some people were placed inside forests.
Some were surrounded by monsters.
Some were trapped in strange structures.
Others appeared to have been given puzzles or unfamiliar objects.
The Tower wasn’t simply testing strength.
It was testing the individual.
Eryndor remembered this.
Or at least he thought he did.
In the future he remembered, people often misunderstood the Tower.
Many believed it existed simply to make people stronger.
They were wrong.
The Tower accelerated evolution, but it didn’t simply hand people power.
It tested comprehension.
Adaptability.
Decision-making.
Creativity.
Control.
Will.
And, most importantly, the ability to understand one’s own existence.
Eryndor looked at his hands.
His body felt ordinary.
There was power within him, but he couldn’t properly access it yet.
His Talent had awakened, but he had not mastered it.
His Race had awakened, but he didn’t fully understand it.
And he still had no Core.
The Tower Trial came first.
Only after the Trial would the foundation of his power begin to take shape.
A strange notification appeared.
[Trial adaptation complete.]
Eryndor looked around.
The other participants were disappearing one after another, transported into their own individual trial environments.
Yet Eryndor remained where he was.
The Tower was still deciding what to give him.
He waited.
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
Nothing happened.
Eryndor frowned.
“Are you having trouble deciding?”
There was no response.
He almost laughed.
Then the Tower finally reacted.
[Analysis incomplete.]
Another message appeared.
[Multiple irregularities detected.]
Eryndor’s expression became serious.
[Attempting deeper evaluation.]
The pressure around him increased.
For the first time, Eryndor sensed the Tower examining him.
Not his body.
Not merely his soul.
Something deeper.
Something beneath the existence he currently understood.
The mirror pendant became painfully cold.
A fragment of memory appeared.
He saw an enormous structure surrounded by ancient beings.
He saw countless Genesis fragments being used to construct something.
He saw the Tower.
Then the memory disappeared.
Eryndor opened his eyes.
Genesis.
The name appeared in his mind without explanation.
He didn’t know what it meant.
Not completely.
He only knew that it was connected to the oldest layer of his memories.
Before he could investigate further, the Tower spoke.
[Evaluation suspended.]
[Trial will proceed using available information.]
Eryndor sighed.
“At least you made a decision.”
The environment changed.
The endless Trial Space disappeared.
Eryndor found himself standing in a vast plain beneath a grey sky.
There were no buildings.
No monsters.
No obvious enemies.
Nothing.
He looked around.
“This is my trial?”
The Tower remained silent.
Eryndor began walking.
Ten minutes passed.
Nothing happened.
Thirty minutes.
Still nothing.
An hour.
Nothing.
He eventually stopped.
Then he understood.
The Tower wasn’t testing whether he could defeat something.
It was testing whether he could recognize the nature of the trial.
Eryndor looked at the empty landscape.
His memories gave him an advantage, but they couldn’t tell him what the Tower wanted.
That was important.
The future could give him knowledge.
It could not give him comprehension.
He sat down.
If the Tower wanted him to fight, it would provide an opponent.
If it wanted him to survive, it would provide danger.
If it wanted him to solve something, it would provide a problem.
But there was nothing.
Therefore, the absence itself had to be part of the trial.
Eryndor closed his eyes.
He focused on his surroundings.
Wind.
Temperature.
The strange texture of the ground.
The faint pressure in the air.
Then he noticed something.
The wind always changed direction at the same distance from him.
He stood.
He walked toward it.
The further he moved, the stronger the sensation became.
After several minutes, he found a small crack in the ground.
Eryndor crouched.
Inside the crack was a faint light.
He reached toward it.
The moment his finger touched the light, the entire environment shattered.
The grey sky broke apart.
The ground disappeared.
The Trial Space returned.
The Tower’s voice appeared.
[Observation recognized.]
Eryndor stared at the message.
Then another appeared.
[Adaptive reasoning recognized.]
He smiled slightly.
“So that’s what you wanted.”
But the Tower wasn’t finished.
The landscape changed again.
This time, another person appeared several dozen meters away.
A young woman.
She looked confused.
Eryndor recognized her.
Not from his current life.
From his memories.
She was supposed to become one of the most influential figures of the early Awakening.
But Eryndor remembered something else.
She was supposed to die during the first major catastrophe.
Yet here she was.
Alive.
Standing in front of him.
The Tower spoke.
[Decision Trial.]
A second message appeared.
[One participant may proceed.]
Eryndor’s expression changed.
The woman looked toward him.
“What does that mean?”
Eryndor didn’t answer immediately.
His memories told him what was supposed to happen.
He remembered her death.
He remembered the consequences.
But the future had already changed.
If he saved her now, the future would change even further.
If he allowed the Tower to eliminate her, he might preserve the sequence he remembered.
For the first time, Eryndor understood something important.
His memories were becoming a burden.
The future he remembered was not a guide.
It was a temptation.
He looked at the woman.
Then at the Tower.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do.”
The Tower gave no answer.
Eryndor smiled faintly.
“But I’m not going to kill someone simply because I remember that they die.”
The trial changed.
The woman disappeared.
The environment collapsed.
[Decision recognized.]
[Independent judgment recognized.]
Eryndor stood alone again.
A final message appeared.
[Trial progression accepted.]
The Tower began constructing something inside him.
Not a Core.
Not yet.
Something deeper.
A foundation.
A potential.
Eryndor felt the sensation spread through his existence, as though the Tower was preparing his body, soul, Talent, and Race for something that would be determined only after the Trial was complete.
Then another message appeared.
[Talent interaction available.]
Eryndor looked at the words.
The Tower displayed the awakened abilities of nearby participants.
For the first time, Eryndor understood what his strange Talent could do.
He could Copy.
Not the entire existence of another person.
Not their Race.
Not their Bloodline.
Not their Core.
Not their comprehension.
Only the pattern of their Talent.
He stared at the ability description.
[Copy — Reproduce the observable pattern and expression of another Talent.]
Eryndor’s eyes narrowed.
That was powerful.
But it wasn’t absolute.
Copying someone else’s Talent didn’t mean understanding it.
It didn’t grant their experience.
It didn’t grant their mastery.
It didn’t automatically give him the same strength.
If someone had spent ten years understanding their Talent, Eryndor could reproduce its pattern, but he would still have to understand it himself.
That limitation mattered.
And somehow, Eryndor preferred it that way.
Power without understanding had never ended well in the future he remembered.
The Tower’s final notification appeared.
[Talent recognized.]
Eryndor looked toward the endless Trial Space.
The first stage of his journey was only beginning.
He had entered the Tower expecting answers.
Instead, he had discovered questions.
His memories told him that the future would contain heroes, monsters, gods, civilizations, artifacts, wars, and an ending that should never happen.
But now he understood something even more important.
The future he remembered was no longer waiting for him.
It was waiting to be rewritten.
And somewhere beyond the Tower, beneath the black Sun and the red Moon, something ancient had begun moving toward a future that Eryndor himself could no longer predict.