Aerion did not sleep that night.
Every time he closed his eyes, darkness answered him back—not empty darkness, but one filled with echoes. Vaelreth's voice lingered in his mind like a scar that refused to fade.
Run. Grow. Break something.
Aerion sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clenched tightly. The infinity mark on his palm pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his thoughts.
"Why now…" he whispered.
The Academy dormitory was silent. Too silent. Even the mana lamps embedded in the walls flickered uneasily, responding to fluctuations only Aerion seemed to cause.
Across the room, Lyria slept restlessly, murmuring in her dreams. He had insisted she stay—after what happened, being alone felt dangerous.
Aerion stood quietly and moved toward the window.
From here, the Academy looked peaceful. Towers bathed in moonlight. Courtyards empty. Statues of ancient heroes standing frozen in eternal vigilance.
Heroes.
Aerion's jaw tightened.
Were they really heroes… or just survivors?
The thought triggered something.
Pain lanced through his skull.
Aerion staggered back, gripping the windowsill as memories—no, fragments—rose violently to the surface.
Fire.
Not ordinary fire.
White fire that burned reality itself.
Aerion—older, taller, clad in shattered armor—stood amidst a battlefield of broken gods. The sky was collapsing inward, stars screaming as they were dragged into nothingness.
"Hold the line!" someone shouted behind him.
A voice he knew.
A voice that made his chest ache.
"Aerion!"
His name.
Spoken with desperation.
He turned—
And saw her.
A woman with silver hair stained red with blood, her eyes burning with resolve even as her body trembled. She pressed a broken blade into his hands.
"You have to end it," she said. "Even if it costs you everything."
"I won't leave you," Aerion replied—his voice deeper, harder, filled with exhaustion and fury.
She smiled softly.
"You already did… a long time ago."
The world cracked.
Aerion screamed.
He collapsed to the floor, breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat drenched his body as the vision shattered, leaving only silence behind.
"What… was that…?" he whispered.
His hands shook.
Those weren't dreams.
They weren't imagination.
They were memories.
From a life that should not exist.
From a past that infinity had tried—and failed—to erase.
The infinity mark burned hot.
"Stop," Aerion hissed, pressing his palm against the stone floor. "I'm not ready."
But something deep within him stirred.
A presence.
Not infinity.
Something closer.
You remembered.
Aerion's eyes widened. "Who said that?"
No answer.
Only a sensation—like an old companion standing just beyond his sight.
Slow footsteps echoed behind him.
"Aerion?"
He turned sharply.
Lyria stood at the doorway, eyes wide with concern. "You were screaming. What happened?"
Aerion hesitated.
How could he explain memories of dying worlds and broken gods?
"I… remembered something," he said finally.
Lyria stepped closer. "From before this life?"
He nodded.
Her expression softened. "You're not alone in that."
Aerion blinked. "You too?"
She exhaled slowly. "Not like you. But sometimes… I dream of a battlefield. And a shadow watching me."
Aerion's heart sank.
So it's spreading…
Before he could speak, a sharp chime rang through the dormitory.
An announcement rune ignited on the wall.
"All first-year students," Headmistress Myrienne's voice echoed, calm and commanding. "Report to the central arena immediately."
Lyria frowned. "Now? At this hour?"
Aerion's instincts screamed.
"This isn't normal," he said quietly.
The central arena was already filled when they arrived.
Students stood in clusters, whispering nervously. Academy instructors lined the edges, their expressions tense.
At the center stood Headmistress Myrienne.
And beside her—
Vaelreth.
Openly.
Unchallenged.
A cold hush fell over the arena as Aerion stepped forward.
Lyria grabbed his sleeve. "Aerion… that's him."
"I know."
Vaelreth's gaze found Aerion instantly.
Approval flickered in his eyes.
"So many young sparks," Vaelreth said aloud, his voice echoing unnaturally. "Such potential. Such ignorance."
Myrienne's tone was sharp. "State your purpose, Seeker. You tread dangerous ground."
Vaelreth smiled. "Relax, Headmistress. I'm merely observing."
"Observing whom?" she asked.
Vaelreth didn't look away from Aerion.
"The anomaly."
Murmurs erupted.
Fear spread like wildfire.
Aerion felt the weight of hundreds of eyes press into him.
"You," Vaelreth continued, "carry something ancient. Something unfinished."
Aerion stepped forward despite himself. "You keep talking like you know me."
Vaelreth tilted his head. "I know what you were."
Aerion's breath caught.
"What I was…?" he whispered.
Vaelreth raised a hand.
The arena darkened.
Students cried out as the sky above the Academy twisted, forming a familiar symbol—
Infinity.
Gasps filled the arena.
Aerion's past memories surged violently.
White fire.
Broken gods.
A promise made at the end of time.
"You were a blade," Vaelreth said softly. "Forged to cut infinity itself."
Aerion screamed as the visions overwhelmed him.
He saw himself again—standing alone at the edge of existence, holding a weapon that bled light.
"I chose to forget," Aerion gasped. "I chose to live."
Vaelreth's smile faded slightly. "And that choice doomed us all."
Myrienne stepped forward, her aura flaring. "Enough!"
She slammed her staff into the ground.
Reality snapped back.
The infinity symbol vanished.
Students collapsed, gasping.
Vaelreth chuckled. "See? He remembers. Faster than expected."
Aerion dropped to one knee, blood dripping from his nose.
Lyria rushed to his side. "Aerion!"
He looked up slowly.
His eyes were different.
Calmer.
Older.
"I remember dying," he said quietly. "Again and again."
Silence fell.
Vaelreth studied him with renewed interest.
"Good," he said. "Then you'll understand what comes next."
He turned away.
"When the seal breaks," Vaelreth added, glancing over his shoulder, "you won't just remember."
"You'll become him again."
With that—
He vanished.
The arena erupted into chaos.
Myrienne looked down at Aerion, her gaze unreadable.
"You've crossed a threshold," she said quietly. "From this moment on… the Academy cannot protect you."
Aerion slowly stood.
Fear trembled in his chest.
But beneath it—
Resolve burned brighter.
"Then teach me faster," he said.
The infinity mark pulsed violently.
And somewhere far beyond the stars—
Something ancient stirred awake.
Something that remembered Aerion far better than he remembered himself.