I Chose This Path, Now the Universe Will Know My Name

The cold was different now.

Not just sharp, but aware. Like the wind itself was listening.

We moved through the ruined mana stream's edge in silence, Lyssira guiding us with the steady focus of someone used to being hunted — or haunted. The landscape had changed too. Ice had begun to crack open into plains of brittle glass, reflecting the storm-torn sky above.

And always, in the far distance:The Tree.

Massive. Distant. Still.Yet somehow… watching.

"It feels closer," I muttered.

Lyssira didn't look back.

"It's not. That's the illusion. No matter where you stand in the quadrant, you'll always see it. As if it's just over the next ridge."

"But it's real, right? The Tree?"

She finally glanced at me.

"More real than most gods."

We made camp inside a hollowed stone creature — something ancient, curled into a fetal position, now buried in permafrost. Its skull formed a natural ceiling overhead, horns spiraling into the ice like roots.

"What do you think it was?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" she said softly. "It's dead."

After some time, she pulled out a thin shard of crystal and began etching sigils onto the wall — notes, maps, memory runes. I watched, fascinated.

"You said before you and Tairo weren't here to win. You came to understand."

"Yes."

"Understand what?"

She paused. Then…

"The Tree."

"What about it?"

"It predates the academies. Predates even the multiversal wars. They say it grows in the center of all realms. A root in every reality. Its leaves reach beyond time. Its heart… we don't know."

I leaned forward.

"Is it true the winner of the tournament reaches the Tree?"

"Yes. But not just to see it. The Tree chooses."

"Chooses what?"

She turned her eyes on me — glowing with low blue light.

"Who is allowed to climb."

That sentence hit me like a whisper in my bones.

This whole tournament… wasn't just a test of strength.It was a selection.

"What happens if someone unworthy tries?"

"They burn," she said simply. "Or worse."

That night, I stared at the Tree again.

It looked peaceful — glowing veins climbing its bark, branches outstretched toward stars.But now I understood: that peace was a mask. The Tree was waiting. Judging.

And I wasn't ready.

Not yet.

The next day, we encountered a structure unlike any I'd seen — a massive archway made of bone and metal, half-sunken into the snow.

Floating above it was a rune — pulsing red.

"What's that?" I asked.

"A trial gateway," Lyssira said. "A challenge left behind by the Clinnore Academy. Those who pass gain knowledge. Power. Guidance."

"And those who fail?"

"Vanish."

We stared at it for a long time.

Then I stepped forward.

"I'm going in."

"Zavier—"

"You said this whole thing is about understanding, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then I have to."

She didn't stop me.But she didn't follow, either.

As I crossed the threshold, the world bent sideways.

Colors ran like ink. My breath caught in my throat.

And then I was gone.