The amphitheater of the Arcane Colosseum shimmered with an ethereal glow, its ancient runes pulsing in sync with the collective heartbeat of the gathered students. The Fate Resonance Ritual was a tradition as old as the Empire itself—a grand test of destiny, designed to reveal glimpses of one's future path through the convergence of immense magical energy.
It was supposed to be a moment of unity. Instead, it would become a stage for revelation and reckoning.
At the center of the main dais stood Marcus Valen, cloaked in the ceremonial robes of a royal initiate. His expression was serene, almost indifferent, but behind those emerald eyes burned the fire of vengeance tempered by the cold wisdom of a lifetime he should not remember. He could feel the weight of a thousand gazes—some curious, some wary, many dismissive. To them, he was still the forgotten prince, the overlooked noble whose lineage meant little.
Opposite him, Augustus Glem stood tall and proud, the golden boy of the Academy. His presence was magnetic, bolstered by years of cultivated prestige. But beneath that confident exterior, Marcus could sense the faint tremors of doubt. The seeds of mistrust he had planted were beginning to sprout.
To Marcus's left, Professor Aelia Serin raised her staff high, her voice ringing out like a clarion call across the amphitheater. "Let the Fates bear witness! Let the threads of time be unraveled! May this ritual illuminate the paths we are destined to walk!"
The central altar—a monolithic construct of obsidian and star-metal—began to hum. Streams of magic, vibrant threads of blue, gold, and crimson, poured into it from the initiates surrounding the dais. Each student channeled their essence, feeding the arcane engine that would soon open a window into their futures. Sparks danced in the air, and the very atmosphere thickened with anticipation.
As the energy reached a crescendo, Augustus turned his gaze on Marcus, a sneer twisting his lips. "Before the Fates show us your pathetic future, Valen," he declared, his voice magically amplified for all to hear, "let us see the strength you claim to possess!"
Flames erupted from his fingertips. Breaking the sacred neutrality of the ritual, Augustus launched a classic triple-wave inferno, each fiery crest aimed to corner and humiliate Marcus before the entire student body.
Gasps rippled through the crowd at the blatant aggression.
Marcus didn't dodge. He simply raised a hand, his expression unchanged. The inferno struck an invisible barrier and dissolved into harmless vapor. He then lowered his gaze, but inwardly, his mind reached into the shadows where his true power resided.
[The Codex of Shadows]
A whisper, a breath—his consciousness slipped into the pages of the forbidden tome.
History Recall: 10/10 pages filled.
Ability unlocked: Historical Event Projection (Shared Consciousness Link).
Target: Augustus Glem & All Witnesses
Memory selected: The Ashen Bind Ambush – 3 Years Prior
The fifteenth chapter of his vengeance was about to begin.
The altar, overloaded by the sudden surge from the Codex, blazed with blinding light. Then, without warning, the light fractured. Instead of scattered visions of the future, a single, horrifying scene unfolded above the crowd, projected into their collective minds.
A memory.
It was night. Rain lashed against stone walls in a forgotten training hall. In the dim torchlight, a younger, more naive version of Marcus faced Augustus in what was supposed to be a private duel.
In the vision, Augustus laughed as he unleashed a forbidden curse—Ashen Bind, a writhing chain of grey energy that drained magical power directly from its target. The past-Marcus collapsed, screaming as his mana reserves were violently siphoned away. Hidden in the shadows of the memory, two figures watched: Lena Sering, her face a mask of cold complicity, and a faculty member who sanctioned the ambush with a nod.
It wasn't a duel—it was a calculated crippling.
Reality snapped back. The projection vanished, but its echo remained, seared into the mind of every person present.
Silence. Then, chaos.
"Impossible!" Augustus bellowed, his face twisted in a mask of pure fury and panic. "This is a lie! A fabrication! A trick!"
But no one moved to defend him. His closest allies hesitated, their eyes darting between their disgraced leader and the undeniable truth now branded onto their souls. The memory was too vivid, too real—not the crude illusion of a novice, but a perfect, horrifying recreation of the past.
Lena Sering dropped to her knees, trembling uncontrollably. "No… no…" she muttered, tears of guilt and terror streaming down her face. "I didn't—I wouldn't…"
"You did," Marcus said, his voice soft yet carrying across the entire amphitheater. He stepped forward, no longer a student, but a ruler reborn. "And you would have let history repeat itself."
His voice held no arrogance, only the crushing weight of absolute certainty. He was a sovereign addressing his traitors.
In the upper galleries, hidden among the robed faculty, Simon Hurst sat motionless, his jaw clenched. His hand flew to a small crystal orb—an enchanted surveillance device. With a swift, urgent motion, he activated it.
Transmitting Report: Priority Level – CRITICAL
Subject: Marcus Valen
Incident: Unauthorized use of a large-scale memory projection technique. Complete reconstruction of a historical event within a shared consciousness field.
Classification: Potential Forbidden Art – Temporal Memory Sealing or Echo Binding.
Recommendation: IMMEDIATE investigation. Deployment of a Fate Observer is advised.
Simon leaned back, eyes narrowed. This wasn't a prodigy. This was an anomaly that could break the foundations of the Empire.
Below, Aelia Serin's lips curled into a faint, calculating smile. She was the one who broke the stunned silence. "I witnessed Ashen Bind," she declared, her voice sharp and clear. "That spell has been outlawed since the Element Wars. Its use is grounds for immediate expulsion and tribunal."
As for Valk Taron, standing at the edge of the gathering, he simply grinned. He had chosen the right side.
Marcus turned away from the chaos he had sown, his posture calm, his steps measured. The amphitheater was no longer the same. The balance of power had shifted—not through force, but through a truth more powerful than any spell.
As he walked toward the exit, he saw Augustus. The once-unshakable golden boy stood rigid, his hands trembling, his breathing ragged. His eyes darted wildly, searching for an ally, an anchor, anything to save him.
But there was nothing left. Only the echo of betrayal, reflected in every gaze now turned upon him. Only the weight of a memory he could never undo.
Only the storm that was coming.
And Marcus? He walked on. Unbroken. Unyielding. A king returning to his throne of shadows.