Clarifying the Truth (2)
It was still. Silent.
A world that existed for me alone.
Within the rippling space, a dark night sky glittered. The sparkle of stars piercing through the dense darkness painted a single landscape.
I stared blankly up at the sky for a long while before realizing that this was my dream.
"Ah……."
There was no place in this city where one could see a sky like that. Yet I had never once set foot outside the city. It was a landscape I could only behold because it was fake.
This time I lowered my gaze and surveyed my surroundings. Looking down, I saw a coastline where waves endlessly crashed.
"The sea."
Thud, thud.
I walked alone along the beach with sand underfoot. With every step, footprints were etched into the pure white sand, and the sound of approaching waves echoed in my ears. A white beach under a dark evening sky—a contradictory landscape that defied the laws of the world.
Wandering aimlessly forward inside this lucid dream, I eventually discovered something that stood in stark contrast to the pure white sand.
"……."
It was black. And dense. A darkness like a bottomless abyss that swallowed all light floated in the air. Naturally, I stopped in my tracks before it. Then I reached out a hand toward the darkness hanging in the void.
In that moment, a powerful voice found its way into my mind.
"Foolish one. What is magic?"
A voice spreading from the darkness before my eyes. Though it had no mouth, the voice I heard felt just like facing my own telepathy. I stopped the hand I had been extending forward and listened carefully to the voice that came to me.
"Magic?"
"The power that makes the impossible possible. It is a miracle that reverses the world, and the unchanging truth that all humans have sought."
"You are……."
"I am the Agent of Mystery. The oldest magic in the world, and the Guardian of the Pact that leads false mages."
The Agent of Mystery. I had no memory of ever seeing such a name, even in books. I knew neither what his true identity was nor how to deal with him. But I could clearly understand what this situation meant.
"Human. Do you have the courage to protect yourself amid overflowing mystery?"
I was currently being tested for the qualifications to ascend to a new realm. Looking at the overall content of War City, the proportion of 4th Circle mages was by no means small. In Usher's case he had started as 5th Circle, so I didn't know the exact conditions, but the trial to advance to 4th Circle shouldn't be too difficult.
Gazing at the darkness before me, I pondered for a moment, then nodded and spoke.
"If it's a trial I have to face anyway……."
Magic in this world was fundamentally self-reflection. It was the process of looking into one's own inner self and establishing one's true self. Naturally, the content of the trial given to each person was different. There was no absolute answer sheet. The only process was for oneself to ponder and agonize, then arrive at the correct answer.
"I will challenge it."
Having made that decision and begun to look at the darkness, the darkness before my eyes grew and swallowed me whole. In the endless darkness, a faint light brushed past my surroundings. Darkness covering all directions. Within it, neither sky nor earth existed. Even though I completely lost the sense of balance that supported my body, I did not fall. Was this possible because it was a dream? Or was it called a dream because such things were possible? I had no way of knowing which was the correct answer.
"A strong miracle inevitably creates a strong backlash."
"This is a trial to confirm whether, amid such flows of mystery, you can protect yourself as you wield it."
No sooner had the Agent's words ended than voices began to flow in from all directions. A boy. A child. A woman. An old man. Voices of every kind were chattering about their own stories. Someone spoke of enjoyable things. Someone else spoke of a sorrowful parting with a lover.
'Today was fun.'
'Why did that person abandon me?'
Each speaking subject had a different topic. Sorrow. Joy. Anger. Despair. The emotions of joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure were contained in short voices of a single phrase. Amid the countless voices pouring in, I tried to find the Agent's voice.
'Do you think the company can run without me?'
'I don't know what I was hoping for.'
'I'll kill them all.'
'Why did I do such a thing?'
'I want pizza tomorrow.'
'I hate poverty.'
An overwhelming density of information. My thoughts began to follow the voices I heard. I could not control my own thinking. The flow of thought was being swept away unilaterally. My mind, running wild with the reins loosened, soon lost its original purpose and began to wander.
"According to the Primordial Pact, I ask. Who are you?"
Mixed into the torrent of emotions, the Agent's voice came. But it was soon swept away and vanished in the following wave of voices. I could no longer even recall the content of the question. In the endlessly echoing flow of thoughts, I tried to bring my own voice out of my mouth.
"I am……."
A short phrase I could not finish to the end. That was the last of the dream I faced.
"Haa, ha……."
I sat up, exhaling rough breaths. Awakened from sleep, I moved my heavy eyes and immediately checked my surroundings. The office, still shrouded in darkness because the lights were off. On a simple bed placed in one corner, Sinel was sleeping curled up beside me.
"……Just what happened."
This was not a dream now. I was awake from the dream, sitting in my own office. Then why was I afraid of dreams? I could not explain the reason in detail. I clearly understood that I had entered a trial, but I could not remember the exact content of the trial. It was not that I could not remember because it was a dream. Even if it was the content of a dream, right after waking a certain amount would remain in the mind. Yet right now, I could not recall even a little of the dream's content. It felt as if someone had artificially blocked my memories.
"……."
I reached for my phone and checked the time. 5:30 a.m. Not much time left until the sun rose. A mage's trial returned every time one fell into deep sleep. To retake today's trial, I needed to wait until night came again.
"……Boss?"
As I pressed my throbbing head while looking at the time, Sinel, who had been sleeping beside me, sat up and looked at me. Her ash-gray eyes, submerged in darkness, stared blankly at me. It seemed Sinel had woken from sleep sensing my movements. Looking at Sinel, whose large T-shirt worn instead of pajamas had slipped down to her shoulders, I eventually put the phone I was holding back on the nightstand.
"It's still early enough that you can sleep more."
"Haaawn. Is that so."
Thud.
Sinel lay back down on the bed without any hesitation. I watched her for a while, then soon left the bed and stood up from my spot. Countless thoughts bloomed and scattered repeatedly within me. Perhaps I had not fully woken from sleep yet. If I cooled my head with cold water, I might become a bit more composed.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I grabbed a towel and walked toward the bathroom. Only my own footsteps echoed in the empty, pitch-dark hallway. Creak. Opening the door and entering the quiet bathroom, the lights turned on as they recognized a person. Looking around the lit bathroom, I immediately took off my T-shirt and turned on the water at the sink.
"Ugh……."
When the cold water touched my hands, my body reflexively pulled back. With the heartbeat, blood circulated rapidly, and my sleeping mind woke in an instant. I lightly brought my hands to adapt to the water's temperature, then soon scooped water with my hands and began washing my face. Waking earlier than usual and washing my face from the early dawn. It was by no means a familiar scene.
"Soon it'll be 4th Circle, huh."
Without even knowing it myself, I had fulfilled the conditions to become 4th Circle. Since those conditions differed for each person, I could also understand being suddenly called to the trial. But having to face the retest without knowing the content of the trial was more fatal than I thought. The chance to cross into 4th Circle was not eternal. Perhaps only while existing in the dream could I maintain the memory of the trial. That thought also came to me.
"Being a mage isn't something just anyone can do, I guess."
When a mage reaches the 6th Circle, they receive what is called a Mission. There are no exceptions to that. A Mission is the directionality of life inherent within the mage themselves. The Mission is given as the one most suitable to the mage's own personality, and their actions inevitably have no choice but to follow their Mission. It was reasonable to see all the series of trials held until then as the process leading up to receiving the Mission.
"……It's funny being a mage with a body like this, though."
I looked at my body reflected in the mirror. Percival Smith. He was an extra with insignificant magic, but his physique was quite decent. Solid muscles of a level that was not excessive were placed throughout his entire body. A body that looked more suited to intense hand-to-hand combat than magic. Of course, mages in this world often accompanied shootouts or close combat. A world where physical mages had become the standard. At the appearance of this cold, harsh world that had long since thrown away any childish innocence, a hollow laugh escaped me without my realizing it.