There aren't many preparations to be made for World travel if you know where you're going, but things are definitely different when it comes to exploration. As a wise man once said, you can never be too cautious.
Opening a space portal itself might cause anomalies, especially to a world as "fragile" as Aggrae, which is why I plan to open the portal on the moon. Yeah, not very original, but it's better to be safe in case something manages to hijack the portal coordinates and travel to this reality. If they're peaceful, tough luck. If their intentions aren't acceptable, then serve them right.
Asking what energy I would use to open the portal might be the stupidest question, because Soul Energy is the only power I can wield optimally and fully control.
Before teleporting to the moon, I first set an anchor point in spacetime, located in my bedroom back at the mansion. An anchor point is necessary unless I plan never to return.
That's out of the picture for now, because I have a few people I value in this world. I have to say, re-experiencing mortal life wasn't as bad as I thought—especially with a new identity and body. The emotional spectrum, dulled in my last life, had returned. Yes, that means I'm susceptible to mood swings once in a while, but the experience is novel, like rediscovering how good homemade cooking tastes after a long drought.
I will be doing random world travel because, firstly, this will be the first time I'll be away from this reality. Also, I'm not even certain if this cosmos I'm currently in is the same one where I existed in my last life.
If this is an entirely different Megaverse, an attempt to open the portal would be entirely implausible—not only because of the absurd distance, but because the inter-megaverse void isn't a safe passage for even immortals above divine level.
Heck, even a Primordial-Level entity has a high chance of perishing in the inter-megaverse void, as it is the habitat of the Unliving Gods.
Those non-living beings are natural nemeses of the inhabitants of realities, and they have their kind in every level of void, with the inter-universe void at the lowest. The Outergods—or, more "intimately," the Eldritch Gods—are literally the lowest level among the Unliving Gods.
As horrible as they are, the chance of actually encountering one is quite low. Though that depends on whether you're worth the trouble for them to seek you out in the void.
For my current self, I won't take that chance, even if I suddenly became thrice as brave. That would be plain suicidal. Ah yes, things are probably worse because of my soul.
Using my Soul Energy, I pick and choose a few key layers of reality to connect into threads. These threads then automatically seek out other worlds that share the same attributes as the layers of reality connected to them.
Once the other end is properly connected, that's how you know the portal is ready to be used as a transit point. In practice, it isn't much different from buying a train ticket before boarding.
The ticket determines which stations the train is allowed to stop at, just as the connection determines the portal's destination. The threads function like the pilot or navigation system, the portal itself is the vehicle, and you are merely the passenger being carried through.
Although the process requires a considerable amount of waiting time, it demands minimal energy and effort. To avoid arriving in a lower-grade world like Aggrae, I spent an additional portion of Soul Energy constructing threads that properly connected Aggrae's layers of reality by adding laces of artificial World Runes.
Time: approximately six and a half years since I regained my consciousness in this world. The time had come to find some entertainment elsewhere. Honestly, it felt quite exciting. Thrilling would be more fitting, perhaps.
~~~~
The portal—a circular tear in spacetime—slowly rewound itself behind him.
He emerged high above the surface, immediately caught in free fall as gravity asserted itself without warning. The sudden drop stole a split second of his attention. His mind accelerated, rapidly evaluating options to avoid face-planting as his first act in this unfamiliar world.
A myriad of possibilities flashed through his thoughts. There wasn't enough time to consult the World Codex to fine-tune levitation or initiate controlled flight. The window was too short.
With a brief shrug, he chose to let gravity take over.
Compared to Aggrae's natural 1.5G, this world pulled harder—approximately 2.3G. Noticeable, but nowhere near enough to threaten a physique reinforced far beyond mortal limits.
He adjusted his posture mid-air, aligning his body for a stable descent, legs braced and balance centered. At the last moment, practicality gave way to impulse.
He went with a superhero landing, despite the lack of an immediate audience.
In the sky just moments ago, Zachary had seen what his immediate surroundings looked like—a plain not far from what appeared to be a fortress.
The good news was that there were people in this world.
The bad news was that he landed straight onto a raging battlefield.
What a way to make an entrance.
Upon landing, Zachary swiftly straightened and brushed the dust off his clothes. Around him, soldiers wearing two distinct sets of armor stood stunned, some even stopping mid-fight for a brief moment.
Only a brief moment, though, before someone in the crowd roared and attacked his opponent, hacking the latter to death with a scimitar. That roar snapped the others out of their stupor, and the fighting resumed.
The air was thick with a metallic taste—the smell of fresh blood. Zachary couldn't help but frown at this, but he wasn't given any reprieve.
A soldier wearing body armor with a fur coat and wielding a scimitar leapt at him, skillfully slashing toward Zachary's throat. The intention was obvious, but the result was the complete opposite.
The soldier's vision was suddenly filled by the sight of an outstretched palm, and his face was grabbed before he could even form a thought.
Panicked, the soldier hacked wildly with his scimitar, feeling it strike something several times before it felt as though the blade had lodged itself into a wall. He couldn't pull it free, push it forward, or wrench it away. He couldn't see what had happened—his vision was completely blocked by the hand gripping his face with crushing force.
Slowly, the pressure on his face intensified, and his body was lifted upward, placing considerable strain on his neck.
The soldier released the hilt of his scimitar and grabbed at Zachary's outstretched hand with both arms, groaning and thrashing chaotically.
A few eyes fell upon the sight, but Zachary's immediate focus wasn't on them. He was testing how well his Soul Energy functioned in this world—and this soldier was one very willing test subject.
Zachary flared his Soul Energy outward like an external aura, letting it manifest in the open to gauge the world's response. It was possible—effortless, even—and he immediately noticed fewer restrictions than expected. Supernatural force wasn't just feasible here; it seemed fully supported. There had to be a native power system in use, commonly harnessed by the inhabitants.
Satisfied, he shifted focus. Using his Soul Energy like a precise drill, he probed the soldier's mind, accessing thoughts, instincts, and memories with surgical efficiency. The World Runes composing the soldier's Life Code were noticeably different from those of Aggrae's natives, including himself. Patterns, symbols, and constructs were unfamiliar yet coherent, a clear indication that this reality operated under its own system of fundamental laws.
Zachary studied the data quickly, filtering what was immediately relevant: the soldier's training, combat habits, and personal knowledge. It confirmed what he already suspected—the universe he'd entered was entirely separate from Aggrae, with its own rules and hierarchies.
Compared to what he initially thought, the scimitar-wielding soldiers weren't the aggressors in this war—they were actually the defending force, fending off a more civilized-looking army.
Still, that didn't mean Zachary had any intention of letting the soldier go.
"Tough luck, but you brought this upon yourself." Zachary said in the soldier's native language, which he had learned from the man's mind, as he shrugged and squeezed his hand harder. The soldier's head popped like a balloon, blood spraying everywhere. His flared Soul Energy acted as a shield, protecting him from the gory mess. Not a single drop touched his clothes—or even his skin.
The lifeless corpse hit the ground with a thud. At the same moment, Zachary felt intense gazes fix on him—confusion, anger, and a hint of concealed dread radiating from every soldier around.
The invading troops were momentarily relieved, believing Zachary wasn't their enemy—or at least, that's what they assumed after witnessing how effortlessly he killed the Mardo soldier.
One of them even threw a sword toward Zachary, thinking he might join their side. But in the next instant, that same blade pierced a Walts soldier's head, killing him before he could even register what had happened.
Was it wise for Zachary to antagonize both sides? Absolutely not. It would have been the actions of a madman—but for testing his combat abilities, there was no better place than a literal battlefield.