Dinner ended up being a great mistake for Atticus, and there was only one person to bla—Caldor.
His single question had shifted the entire family's attention to Atticus's academy life. Anastasia had persisted in asking him to share everything about his ti there, and Atticus ended up being the one talking throughout dinner.
The rest of the family laughed and chid in with questions, much to his chagrin. Every chance he got, Atticus threw a dirty glare at Caldor, which made the boy gulp. If there was one thing about Atticus, it was that he was vengeful.
Atticus eventually had to tell them about Zoey, though he made sure to keep his rejection a secret.
Even he had his limits on embarrassnt. He could already imagine their reactions—Anastasia and Zelda trying to comfort him, Ethan and Avalon telling him to man up, and Magnus probably just staring in silence. The once tense dining room was soon filled with laughter and excitent, and for the first ti in a while, they started to feel like an actual family again.
When dinner ended, Atticus left the dining room and headed toward his room. He had planned to wait outside for Caldor, but it seed the boy had anticipated what would happen if he ran into Atticus at that mont. Caldor wisely made sure to disappear quickly.
As Atticus walked, the fire molecules in front of him suddenly ignited, and Avalon materialized with a serious look on his face.
Atticus remained calm as Avalon approached. When Avalon reached him, he abruptly stretched out his right hand for a handshake.
Atticus hesitated for a second before reluctantly accepting it.
"Thank you," Avalon said, before ruffling Atticus's hair with his left hand. After locking eyes with him and offering a nod and a smile, Avalon turned and walked away.
Atticus smiled brightly as he watched his father leave. 'I'm glad it worked.'
As Atticus continued on his way to his room, he encountered another figure standing in his path—Magnus.
Magnus stood with both hands behind his back, staring at Atticus calmly. The two locked eyes for a few seconds before Magnus finally spoke.
"We begin training tomorrow. Get ready."
With that, Magnus disappeared, leaving Atticus with an even brighter smile than before. Atticus soon reached his room and imdiately went to sleep.
---
The next day ca quickly, and Atticus began his training with Magnus. There were only five days left until the Nexus event, which lood dangerously close.
Instead of teaching Atticus new techniques, Magnus focused on refining what Atticus already knew. He pushed Atticus to use his elents and refine the formation of his domain, while occasionally sparring with him to keep him sharp.
As the days passed, Atticus also received devastating news—he learned about Dekai's death. The grief hit him hard, so much so that he had to take a brief pause to gather his thoughts.
But after so ti, Atticus regained his composure. Only this ti, the determination in his eyes had grown even stronger.
Ti passed, and soon only three days remained until the Nexus event. Atticus walked quietly alongside Magnus through the Ravenstein estate.
They eventually reached a door Atticus was all too familiar with—the Ravenstein family library.
As the door to the library opened, Magnus turned toward Atticus.
"It's ti you learn about the other races in Eldoralth."
---
A lone figure stood atop a floating island, his silhouette frad by the chaotic expanse of the Dinsari domain.
The ground beneath his feet rippled and twisted as the fabric of space bent, dinsions folding into each other and unraveling in an eternal dance.
His silver hair caught the shifting light of the dinsional rifts, glowing faintly against his translucent skin.
Though the figure was youthful in appearance, his eyes told a different story—ancient, cold, and burdened with the weight of centuries.
Around him, the air vibrated with the tension of his power, the very space bending in his presence.
The island itself seed unnaturally still in comparison to the chaotic surroundings, held in place by the imnse gravity of his will.
The figure's gaze was distant, as if peering into countless possibilities that only he could see.
A presence approached carefully from behind, barely managing to keep steady on the ever-shifting ground.
The man, a warrior of the Dinsari, slowed his steps as he neared the figure, his body trembling under the pressure radiating from the youth.
"My lord," the subordinate began, his voice shaky but filled with respect, "the elders are waiting. They wish to discuss the Veriatega Nexus with you."
The youth remained still, his gaze still lost in the infinite dinsions swirling below. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, yet it carried a weight that made the subordinate flinch.
"The Nexus…" he said softly, his tone laced with indifference. "What they wish to discuss is futile. What will happen has already happened."
The subordinate hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. The pressure in the air grew, the dinsional rifts crackling with energy, responding to the will of their master.
"But, my lord… they believe a strategy is necessary. The other races—"
"The other races are bound by the linear flow of ti," the youth interrupted, finally turning to face him.
His silver eyes shimred, reflecting infinite routes of realities, as if he could see through the very fabric of the world. "We are not."
The subordinate took a step back, the weight of those words settling heavily on his chest. He knew better than to question the Apex, yet the fear of not conveying the elders' ssage gnawed at him.
"They insist—"
"And yet," the youth continued, ignoring the interruption, "they fail to realize that no matter how many paths they plan, I have already walked them all. Victory is not earned through preparation. It is inevitable."
The subordinate swallowed hard, feeling the raw power radiating from his Apex, the intensity growing with every word.
The youth was just 18 years old, yet he was already so overwhelmingly powerful that he made a grandmaster like himself tremble uncontrollably.
Cairon Velarius. The apex of the Dinsari race.
Cairon turned his gaze back toward the endless expanse of dinsions, the rippling rifts quieting in response to his calm, controlled aura.
"Tell them this: their concern is misplaced. The Nexus will unfold as it must. Their part is to simply play the role given to them in this reality."
The subordinate's legs nearly buckled under the pressure, but he quickly bowed, not daring to linger any longer in Cairon's presence. "Yes, my lord. I shall convey your ssage."
As the subordinate turned to leave, Cairon's right hand brushed the ordinary-looking sword hanging at his waist, and it imdiately responded, vibrating with intensity. Cairon's mind wandered elsewhere, traversing realities that no one else could comprehend.
The Dinsari.
The Dinsari race were masters of the dinsional arts, living in a state of fluidity—existing in multiple realities at once. Their culture was unlike any other.
For the Dinsari, ti was not a linear path but an endless web of possibilities, all coexisting simultaneously. They were a people of paradox, their lives filled with decisions they had already made and yet to make.
The Dinsari possessed the innate ability of Dinsional Shifting, allowing them to manipulate and interact with multiple dinsions at once.
They couldn't predict future events or outcos based on foresight or prophecy, but through their shifting abilities and access to multiple realities, they could observe different possible outcos in real ti or make decisions based on the probabilities of events across dinsions.
The Dinsari were one of the superior races of Eldoralth, and their Apex, Cairon Velarius, was prepared for the Veriegeta Nexus.
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