Advent of the Tenth Script

I stared at the flickering word on my Status screen:

Domain: Locked.

It glowed like a question I wasn't ready to answer.

But I knew one thing.

I couldn't die here.

Not yet.

Because someone was still waiting.

And I swore I'd survive — for him.

Even if the world forgot his name… I wouldn't.

I clenched my fists and stood. The promise sat heavy in my chest, like a knot of iron fused to my ribs. I was weak — that hadn't changed. But I was done pretending I didn't care.

I had to get stronger.

Not just for the Trial.

Not just to prove something.

For him.

The dome responded to my rising pulse. Mana in the air stirred — faint sparks curling along the walls, tracing the blue runes like veins coming to life.

Then—

A whisper.

No, a tremor.

Deep in the air. Deeper still, in me.

My knees buckled.

A sound, hollow and loud, like the beat of a distant drum cracked through my thoughts.

The runes pulsed. My Status Window shattered into blue shards of light.

And everything—

Everything—changed.

---

[ Hidden Trait Triggered – Logic Affinity in Flux ]

[ Mental Load Exceeded ]

[ Core-Thought Sync Achieved ]

[ DOMAIN: Logic Prototype 0.9 – ACTIVATED ]

---

I gasped.

The room twisted, then froze.

Not literally—

It was like time slowed, peeled open, and revealed the code beneath.

Everything around me turned translucent — made of light, motion, numbers.

The dome's geometry expanded into a massive grid. Symbols floated in the air. Arcane equations hovered mid-space, calculating movement, trajectory, force, friction. My own heartbeat mapped itself in a rhythm of glowing pulses.

The world had become a simulation.

No... not just a simulation.

A 3D model. A living diagram.

Even my own body was outlined in glowing segments. I could see the exact muscle tension in my legs, the slight imbalance in how I stood, the microscopic mana leaks from my core.

I wasn't just seeing.

I was processing. Predicting.

Understanding.

My breath came short. My eyes flicked left, right — every flicker of motion came with calculations. Every breath of air mapped airflow vectors.

This…

This was Logic.

Not raw power.

Not brute strength.

But absolute clarity.

---

[ New Trait Recorded: Simulated Battle Field ]

Grants user temporary vision of all surrounding elements within 20 meters.

All mana-based spells, weapon paths, and terrain changes are calculated in real-time.

Cognitive Load: 93%

Recommended Duration: 20 seconds

---

I collapsed to my knees, gasping, sweat running down my face like I'd sprinted through a storm. The vision faded. Reality returned in pieces. The dome was silent again.

But I wasn't.

My hands shook.

Not in fear.

In awe.

I'd touched it. Even if only for seconds.

I could see.

See how the world worked. How magic could be bent, broken, or rebuilt.

Not imagined.

Simulated.

The Domain was still locked officially — not yet stable. But something had opened. Something had awakened.

And it was mine.

---

The next morning

---

"You're late," Toren said flatly, standing in the field behind the West Tower.

"I'm not," I replied, stepping into the circle where the team had gathered.

Crake yawned. Jorvan adjusted his robe nervously. Nia sat cross-legged, eyes closed, illusions flickering faintly around her head.

Toren folded his arms. "Then explain why we're all waiting for orders from someone who's never led a team before."

"Because I'm the only one who's studied the Trial maps from the past five years," I said calmly. "I know what we're walking into. You're just strong."

"And that makes you the leader?"

"No. But knowing how to survive does."

Silence. The tension stretched thin like glass.

Then Nia stood. "He's right. Crake nearly flunked out last year. Jorvan can't hit moving targets. I panic under pressure. Toren—you blow things up. Cael's the only one who actually has a plan."

Toren narrowed his eyes at her, but she didn't flinch.

He turned to me. "One month. Then I take over."

"One month," I agreed.

"But if we die before then—"

"You can blame my weak affinity," I said, and turned away. "Let's start."

---

We moved to an open mana-suppressed chamber. The academy used it for basic team simulations. No high-level spells. Just tactics and control.

Perfect.

I sketched a triangle formation on the ground using chalk dust, then stood in the center.

"You," I pointed to Jorvan. "Trap spells. Set a delay sigil behind Nia's casting range. We need insurance."

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

"Nia, I want three illusion types: motion blur, false clones, and auditory bait. You can only use one at a time. Focus on speed."

"Got it."

"Toren," I said.

He smirked. "Finally."

"You're our breaker. You hit where I say, when I say. No firestorms unless I tell you."

"That'll be new."

"Tobin—" I looked toward the quiet boy. "You're the anchor. Use your gravity shield as a pulse. Rotate formation when I signal."

He nodded once.

"Let's run scenario 1. Position. On my call."

They scrambled into place.

I closed my eyes.

Focused.

And for a split second—

The world shifted again.

3D lines. Paths. Pressure. Wind.

The battlefield unfolded like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"Execute!"

---

They moved.

Nia cast her blur. Jorvan's trap glowed beneath her. Tobin braced his shield while Toren lunged forward—

Too early.

"Back, Toren! Reset step two!"

"Why—?"

"NOW!"

A second later, Nia's illusion flickered mid-cast. If Toren had gone, he'd have run through it and triggered Jorvan's trap sigil—blinding the team for six seconds.

He froze, eyes wide. "You… predicted that?"

"I saw it," I said. "Run it again."

We trained for hours. Every time they slipped, I corrected.

Not perfectly.

Not yet.

But they were improving.

And with each set, I grew more certain.

I didn't need fire.

I didn't need destruction.

I had Logic.

And the battlefield?

It was a script.

One I was starting to rewrite.

But even scripts need variables.

And I hadn't forgotten what the healer said—the academy is full of monsters sharper than that rat.

Not just the creatures beyond the walls.

The ones within them, too.

Later that evening, after training, I found a folded note slipped beneath my door.

No name. Just a symbol etched in wax: a circle split by a vertical line. Clean. Precise. Old.

I'd seen it once before, buried deep in a book no one checked out.

It was the mark of the Logic Sect—long thought extinct. Scholars. Strategists. Mages who believed power wasn't strength, but thought.

I hesitated, then unfolded the parchment.

"Dome 3. Midnight. Come alone."

That was it.

No threats. No promises.

Just direction.

I stared at it for a while, debating. Every instinct screamed caution. But that flicker inside me—the one that flared to life back in Dome 73—was already burning again.

And so, just before midnight, I left the West Tower.

The academy grounds were nearly silent. Only the soft hum of mana wards and the occasional flare of lantern spells lit the cobbled paths. Most students were asleep or in late study halls. None paid attention to the quiet boy heading for the high domes.

Dome 3 was one of the oldest.

Made of blackstone instead of marble. Smaller than the rest. But its wards were ancient—and powerful.

When I approached, the door didn't open.

It unlocked.

A slow click, then a hiss of mana as the entrance unsealed.

Inside, it was dark.

Then a voice echoed from somewhere within:

"You're early. Good."

I stepped forward. Runes on the floor lit up, forming a perfect circle around me. Lines intersected with symbols I didn't recognize—at least, not completely. Not yet.

"You triggered something no student has touched in decades."

The voice was older now. Clipped. Controlled.

"You simulated a battlefield. Your mind overclocked. You accessed the first gate."

Gate?

"There are nine gates," the voice continued. "Each one opens a layer of the Logic Domain. Each one demands more than power. They demand clarity."

I didn't speak. I just waited.

"Most burn out after the second. Some die at the third. But if you survive them all…"

The runes flared.

"You'll see the world not as it is… but as it will be."

Silence followed.

Then a small crystal sphere rolled from the darkness and stopped at my feet.

"This is your key to the second gate. If you're worthy, it will respond. If not—"

"—you'll know."

I bent down and picked it up. It was cold.

Lined with hair-thin inscriptions. And inside, something faint glowed.

Logic, I realized, was not just an affinity.

It was a path.

A dangerous one.

But it was mine.

And for the first time… someone else knew that too.