After the Dragon of Consumption vanished, the world ahead seed to unfold all at once. With the mountain range no longer blocking his vision, Ethan found himself staring out over an imnse, silent expanse of water that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"Higher, Blackie."
Ethan frowned as he studied the lake below. Blackie did not bother replying. He beat his wings harder, climbing steadily until they reached the highest altitude they could safely maintain. Any higher and the Sky-Lock would activate, grounding them instantly. Once they reached the limit, Blackie leveled out and slowed.
"Whoa," Blackie said, craning his neck to look down. "The water’s actually kind of beautiful from up here."
The lake beneath them looked unreal, like a painter’s fever dream poured into a vast basin. Directly ahead, the water was a dense, milky white. To the right, it was pitch black, dark and glossy like liquid ink. There was no visible shoreline or barrier between the two colors, only a razor-thin, invisible boundary that kept them from mixing. To the left spread a pool of deep crimson, which gradually softened into a muted orange before fading into the distant haze. On the opposite side of the black water lay a band of purple that slowly bled into a faraway, misty blue. The lake ford a massive circular ring, each color distinct, cleanly separated, and unnervingly still.
Ethan swallowed. "The Nine-Color Lake?"
He was not completely certain, but the sight stirred a powerful mory. The last ti he had seen a lake like this had been in the Underworld. Back then, he had barely had ti to admire it, rushing onward toward the Gates with no room for hesitation. He rembered that beyond that lake lay a valley carpeted with endless fields of Ethereal Blooms, glowing softly in the gloom.
As Blackie flew closer, the milky-white water expanded until it filled their entire field of vision. Shapes began to form beyond it, half-hidden within the thick curtain of mist. The vague outline of what looked like a mountain valley slowly erged.
Don’t tell it’s full of Ethereal Blooms too, Ethan thought. It was only a guess, but the resemblance was unsettling. Regardless of what lay beyond, their imdiate problem was far simpler and far more dangerous. They needed to cross this lake.
His mories of the Underworld’s Lake surfaced unbidden. That water had been deadly. Even a single feather would sink the instant it touched the surface, pulled down as if by crushing weight. The only way across had been a series of widely spaced wooden planks that sohow floated atop the impossibly dense water. Worse still, the depths had been filled with monstrous fish that attacked anything foolish enough to linger.
But this lake was different. There were no planks. No structures. Nothing at all disturbed its surface.
"Set us down," Ethan said after a mont. Flying over it felt like a gamble he was unwilling to take. With that opaque white water, there was no way to see what might be lurking below. This forbidden zone was steeped in a pervasive wrongness, and neither of them was eager to provoke it. The resemblance to the Nine-Color Lake alone was enough to warrant caution.
Blackie descended, touching down on solid ground near the shore. From there, they walked forward on foot, approaching the edge of the white expanse. Calling it water felt wrong now. Up close, it looked less like a lake and more like a vast stretch of pale earth, chalky and smooth, extending endlessly outward.
They stopped at the boundary. Ethan was certain now. The pull he had been feeling, subtle but insistent, was coming from the mist-shrouded island at the center of the lake. The sense of proximity, of being drawn toward sothing important, was impossible to ignore.
Without overthinking it, they stepped forward onto the pale surface.
The instant both of Ethan’s feet touched the white ground, Blackie let out a startled yelp and shuddered violently. Ethan felt it as well. That sa skin-crawling sensation surged through him, as if sothing invisible was being peeled away, stolen from his body without permission.
Blackie staggered, then straightened and shook himself. He looked at Ethan, frowning. At first, his expression showed nothing but confusion. Then his eyes widened.
"Uh... boss?" Blackie said slowly. "Did you... get younger?"
Ethan snorted. "I’ve always been young. Thank you very much."
"No, I’m serious," Blackie insisted, staring harder. "You’re smaller. You look like a kid. Like... a teenager."
Ethan froze. Only then did he realize his clothes felt loose, hanging awkwardly from his fra. A spike of alarm shot through him. He summoned a mirror with a thought and stared into it.
His breath caught.
The face reflected back at him was unmistakably younger. The sharpness he had grown used to was gone, replaced by softer lines and a boyish cast. His shoulders were narrower, his build slimr, his height clearly reduced. He looked fifteen, maybe sixteen at most.
His thoughts imdiately raced back to the research team they had encountered in the first layer. The team from ten years ago. If the forest had been Layer One, the desert Layer Two, and the giant catfish Layer Three, then this white shore could only be Layer Four.
Carefully, Ethan stepped backward, returning to the dark, rocky ground they had just left.
The mont his feet crossed the boundary, another jolt ran through him. This ti, it felt different. Not like sothing being taken, but like sothing snapping back into place. Blackie followed him instinctively. Ethan watched his reflection shift again, his body lengthening, his features hardening, until he was once more his familiar twenty-sothing self.
Ethan’s frown deepened. "That doesn’t add up. Layer One shaved off ten years, but nothing changed for in the next two layers. If this keeps going linearly, it shouldn’t suddenly jump to turning into a teenager."
Blackie rubbed his chin. "What if it’s not linear? If each layer is a flat ten years, then Layer Four would be minus forty. At that rate, boss, you’d be reborn before you even had ti to—" He cut himself off.
But it was too late. Ethan’s eyes had already lit up.
"Reborn," Ethan murmured.
He began calculating aloud, his voice quickening. "I was twenty-four before I reincarnated. I spent eight years in the Sea of Death, and right now I’m twenty. Then I lost about a year and a half with the monkey." His eyes widened as the numbers aligned. "It fits."
A quiet sense of awe settled over him as he looked back at the forbidden zone. He recalled the Dragon of Consumption’s soft, almost reverent whisper, ’The flow of ti here is distorted’
He had brushed it off at the ti, but now it made perfect sense. This place operated on temporal reversal. Each layer pushed those who entered further back along their personal tiline. It also explained the giant hand they had encountered earlier. Its power had not been destruction, but regression. When it struck the Cloudfang Tiger and Nightclaw, it must have forced them back toward their original forms. The hand had not been trying to kill them. It had been resetting them. Only Nightclaw’s strength had allowed it to survive the process. Anyone weaker would have been reduced to nothing.
Ethan exhaled slowly. This changed everything.
The forbidden zone was not rely a death trap. It might be a sanctum. A trial. A place designed to temper and refine energy users, forcing growth through regression and survival.
The desert had been filled with crystallized energy. The giant serpent’s remains would have held their own benefits, though the Dragon of Consumption had already claid them. And this Lake...
Ethan lifted his gaze toward the mist-wreathed island at the center of the lake, anticipation glinting in his eyes.
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