The phone buzzed and rang beside my pillow.
I reached out, eyes half-closed, and fumbled for it until the screen lit up, then silenced it with a swipe.
7:00 AM.
I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and stretched beneath the sheets.
Another morning.
A week had passed since Sister left.
I'd also told Mom and Dad that I'd be leaving for Vortex soon.
This entire week, I'd spent every waking moment honing two things: The Crimson Resilience Art and basic dagger skills.
Even though I didn't know any real dagger techniques, but Sis's training had still given Lucion a solid foundation.
Thanks to his inherited muscle memory, I could at least handle a blade without embarrassing myself.
However, one thing still frustrated me.
I looked at the bed where the phone rested.
Back then, when I first picked up Lucion's phone, I didn't know the pattern to unlock it.
But the moment my fingers touched the screen, a memory surfaced.
Clear as day, I saw Lucion drawing the pattern.
That's when I realized:
His memories don't just appear.
They need a trigger.
'How many pieces am I still missing...? I don't even know.'
I brushed my teeth as usual, the taste of mint barely registering on my tongue.
As I stood in front of the mirror, foam clinging to my lips, my reflection stared back—tired, but resolved.
'This face still feels foreign.'
The silence of the morning brought back last night's dinner.
Yesterday, I reminded them again that I needed to leave tomorrow, for Vortex.
Mom didn't argue, like she had before.
She stayed quiet, but I could see the tears she was holding back.
When she smiled, it wasn't just a proud smile—it was the kind that said, I'm proud of you, but I'm really going to miss you.
Dad simply nodded, his usual gruff expression softened.
That image stayed with me.
The way they looked at me, as if I really was Lucion. Their son. The boy they had raised.
I rinsed my mouth, then wiped my face. My eyes stung, just a little.
'Who would've thought I'd get attached to them this emotionally?'
'I couldn't even bring myself to admit I wasn't their son. They even seemed happy with the change in my behavior.'
'How foolish they were, to believe I was truly him. Almost laughable.'
'And yet...'
A sigh escaped my lips.
'Their foolishness—their warmth—it always guided me. And within that warmth, I felt guilty.'
I glanced at the wall. A picture of us hung proudly, Mom on one side, Dad on the other, and me in the middle.
Then, on the desk, another photo caught my eye. Selena's arm draped around my shoulders.
My gaze dropped to the silver ring around my finger, her parting gift.
"Everything seems fine," I murmured.
My gaze shifted to the bag in the corner.
"Umm, yeah… I can't tell them about the storage ring."
I slipped the ring into my pocket.
"In this entire week, I never saw my progress. Let's see how far I am now."
"Status."
A soft chime echoed, and a translucent screen appeared before my eyes.
======= STATUS =======
Name: Lucion Everhart
Rank: Awakened [★]
Aptitude: Bright Star
Profession: Farmer
--- Techniques ---
• Crimson Resilience Art
→ Tier: Master
→ Mastery: Adept Level
Primordial Mana Flow
→ Tier: Common
→ Mastery: Novice Level
=====================
Crimson Resilience Art—seeing it registered gave me a moment of satisfaction. All my late-night practice hadn't been in vain.
I'd devoted hours to mastering its breathing rhythm, to solidify what Selena taught me.
But then my eyes fell on Primordial Mana Flow.
Still at Novice.
"No wonder this method was abandoned. It's just a Common Tier technique, but still, mastering it feels like carving stone with a feather"
There are five levels of technique mastery:
Novice – The beginning stage; understanding the basics.Adept – Improved control and consistency.Proficient – Solid execution with minimal flaws.Expert – Near-perfect command; fluid and powerful.Ascendant – A rare level where the technique becomes second nature, almost instinctive.
'Right now, I was still fumbling at the base of that mountain.'
"Still, no point in getting discouraged. Once I reach the academy, they'll teach us proper cultivation method"
I cast one final look around the room.
The worn bed. The cluttered desk.
Then, one final glance at the ceiling.
"I remember you too."
And with that, I stepped out.
***
In the hall, Mom and Dad sat on the couch, right where I expected them to be.
"Morning, dear," Mom greeted, standing with a warm smile.
"Morning." I returned the best smile I could manage.
"You have everything?" Dad asked, his eyes scanning me with that quiet concern.
I lifted my backpack. It was light, but it held everything I needed. "Yeah. I'll be fine."
Mom gave me a long hug.
Dad cleared his throat and said softly, "The taxi's here."
Mom slowly pulled back.
As we stepped outside, twin lights bathed the sky—one golden, the other faint and dark, like bruised moonlight.
They cast a surreal glow, stretching long shadows across the cobbled path.
The taxi was waiting just beyond the gate.
I had no idea how it even got here, our home was far from the main city, tucked deep within the hillside.
It looked almost royal, like something from Earth's old luxury fleets.
We got inside.
The interior was sleek and comfortable, soft leather seats that adjusted automatically, ambient lights set to a calming hue, and a subtle, herbaceous fragrance infused in the air.
It looked more like a noble's private ride than anything I'd call a taxi.
Compared to Earth's beat-up cabs, this felt almost royal.
I couldn't help but wonder how much Dad had paid for this. Hopefully not too much.
Outside the windows, the forest blurred past in gentle streaks.
Shortly after, we entered the city, where tall chimneys rose into the sky and cars zipped by in steady streams.
About half an hour later, we finally reached our destination.
The taxi slowed to a halt near the station.
We stepped out, the door automatically shutting behind us with a soft hiss.
A moment later, the vehicle pulled away and vanished into the city traffic.
I glanced after it. 'Did Dad already pay?' I wondered.
He hadn't said anything, but I didn't ask either.
Just ahead, a small mechanical stair lift descended from the main platform level, its gears clicking softly as it lowered to street height.
We stepped onto it, and with a quiet whir, it began to rise.
At the top, the view opened up.
A low platform stretched out before us—worn but well-maintained—lined with simple metal rails and glowing guide-lights along the edges.
Above it, a sleek train hovered just a few feet off the ground, humming softly.
We walked toward the platform slowly. The wind carried a chill and the faint scent of oil and iron.
A few scattered travelers stood nearby, some talking quietly, others checking their devices.
I adjusted the strap of my backpack.
"Luci, take care," Mom whispered.
Then, unexpectedly, Dad pulled me into a hug. I froze.
Around us, a few passengers on the platform glanced our way—some with smiles, others with the detached curiosity of strangers. But right now, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Umm… Dad," I managed, my voice a soft, surprised murmur.
"What? Did only your mother have a patent on hugging you?" he said, his tone dry but warm.
"Of course not… you just surprised me, that's all," I whispered from under his arms.
'This was a first. He had hugged me.'
Before I could fully process it, Mom stepped closer and wrapped her arms around both of us, completing the circle.
I could feel the weight of eyes on us—maybe judging, maybe envying—but for once, I didn't stiffen or pull away.
'Back on Earth, I would've died of embarrassment if something like this happened in public. But now… I don't care. This is life. This is what matters.'
I swallowed hard. "Dad… Mom… I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me."
With a gentle kiss on my temple, Mom finally let go. A moment later, Dad followed suit, his arms falling away with quiet reluctance.
Mom's voice trembled. "Just eat properly. Make at least one good friend. That's all we want."
Her words struck something deep in me.
"Stop, Mom. You're making it harder to leave," I said, forcing a faint laugh.
[The Starliner will depart shortly. All remaining passengers are requested to board immediately.]
As the announcement echoed through the station, Dad stepped forward and gently wrapped an arm around Mom.
"Dear, let him go," he said softly.
They stood there, holding each other, as I turned and stepped aboard.
The doors slid shut behind me as I crossed the threshold, sealing the moment in silence.
I turned for one final glance.
Mom's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Dad waved his hand, a silent goodbye.
I raised my hand in reply, fingers stiff.
'I would remember this moment. Always.'
Finally, I turned and made my way toward the conductor.
***
I approached the Conductor. "Here's my ID."
There were privileges to being a Vortex Academy student—one of them being free transportation.
The man glanced at it, then looked up, surprised. "Oh, you're a student of Vortex Academy."
I simply nodded.
He scanned the ID. Once verified, he stepped aside. "Welcome, Mr. Everhart."
I nodded again. He gestured toward a window seat. I took it gratefully.
My stop was Skyvail Station, a high-altitude terminal nestled in the mountains.
A crisp announcement echoed.
[The Starliner will depart in one minute. All passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We repeat, seatbelts on.]
"Right," I murmured, buckling in.
In the game, these were the fastest trains, clocking in at nearly 1,500 miles per hour, almost four times faster than Earth's fastest maglevs.
Technically, the belts were just a safety formality. The Starliner's mana field stabilized passengers during acceleration—but protocols were protocols.
[Departure sequence initiated. Please remain seated. The starliner will now begin acceleration.]
The moment the countdown ended,
skyscrapers dissolved into streaks. The cityscape became a watercolor smear of steel and glass.
In seconds, we were soaring past fields, rivers, and towns.
I could barely see anything clearly through the window, the world outside moved too fast.
"No wonder the wealthy in this world preferred the slower, luxurious trains."
Those let you actually enjoy the view. But they came at a steep price.
A single ticket on those lines could cost ten times as much. Even students from Vortex had to pay full fare.
About an hour passed before we reached the mid-tier exchange, an important intersection where the Sunfall Line connected with the broader Regional Transport Grid.
The Regional Line was the main artery of the human territories, linking all major cities and regions.
My destination was next.
[Next stop: Station 38 – Skyvail]
I leaned closer to the window. In the distance, towering peaks pierced the clouds.
Verdant and majestic, Skyvail Summit looked like something out of a fantasy painting, its slopes wrapped in mist.
The train slowed as it approached, descending gently before docking. The doors opened with a soft hiss.
I stood and stepped onto the platform.
A cool breeze greeted me. Thin mountain air filled my lungs. I checked the time:
09:49 AM.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
[10,000 Celest credited to your account.] — From: Dad
I stared at the screen, surprised. I told them I'd ask if I ever needed money.
"Guess they didn't listen."
"Must've been Mom."
I checked my balance—50,000 Celest.
"Right… Selena sent me some before leaving,"
I glanced around.
The platform was quiet, no announcements, no waiting crowds. Just silence.
No one seemed to be around. I'd heard there was only a small town out here—maybe that explained the emptiness.
I began walking toward the exit.
Ten minutes later, after a slow walk along the winding edge of the platform, I stepped outside, and paused.
Below, the town looked like a cluster of scattered rooftops, quiet and unassuming.
And beyond it, rising like a giant painted into the horizon, stood Skyvail Summit, its towering peak veiled in drifting mist, stretching into the sky like a monument of the old world.
Looking up at the summit's peak, I muttered,
"No wonder those adventurers back on Earth would spend months preparing just to stand on some frozen rock for five minutes."
"The way they spoke of climbing Everest or standing at the edge of the world... I felt that now. Like the summit was calling me."
My backpack hung loosely from my shoulders, but as I approached the trail, I slipped a storage ring from my pocket and tapped it.
With a faint shimmer, the backpack vanished, absorbed into the ring's spatial pocket with practiced ease.