For advance/early chapters : patreon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
In the timeless, fractured reality of the Mirror Dimension, Aidan Parker lost himself to his studies. The normal cycles of day and night, of eating and sleeping, became irrelevant. The Ancient One would often bring him ancient, leather-bound tomes, their pages filled with the foundational knowledge of the mystic arts. In between his marathon study sessions, she would appear, her presence a calming anchor in the chaotic space, and teach him not just the methods, but the solemn responsibilities of a sorcerer.
His mind, supercharged by his unique affinity, became a sponge. He wasn't just reading; he was absorbing the very architecture of magic. He spent what felt like weeks perfecting the Shield of the Seraphim, a vast, shimmering barrier of divine light that could withstand the force of a collapsing skyscraper he conjured for practice. He learned to summon the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak, sentient tendrils of mystical energy that could bind even the most powerful constructs he could imagine. He dueled endless duplicates of himself, created by the Images of Ikonn, each one possessing his full strength, their fiery Swords of the Vishanti clashing in a silent, dazzling shower of sparks. He learned to call upon the Winds of Watoomb and weave dispelling illusions with the Haze of Hoggoth. He was mastering a new form of physics, a new kind of code.
Back in the real world, the Resident Evil film series concluded its run. Based on its immense success, the System updated his parameters. The time dilation for his next immersive dream was now set at a staggering one-to-one-thousand ratio. The possibilities were nearly limitless. But he knew he was not yet ready. The magic he was learning needed to be tempered and tested before he plunged into another world.
He also received remote updates from Ruby. The sudden disappearance of the "ninja spy" from his lab had apparently quieted the activities of The Hand, but he knew they were merely regrouping. They were a problem for another day.
He sat cross-legged on a floating platform of his own creation, his eyes closed. He had mastered all the basics. It was time to leave. He focused his mind, recalling the specific, complex vibrations of the main hall of Kamar-Taj. He raised his right hand, index finger, middle finger, and thumb extended, and began to draw a slow circle in the air with his left. A shower of orange sparks appeared, coalescing into a stable, shimmering portal. He stepped through.
The Ancient One was standing there, as if she had been waiting for him all along.
"It seems your studies have been fruitful," she said, her voice a calm melody.
"Yes, Master," Aidan replied, bowing his head respectfully. The past months of her patient guidance had instilled in him a profound respect for this timeless being, for her broad mind and her immense, humbling knowledge. "And now, can you guess what I am going to ask?" he said with a small laugh.
"You wish to view the Book of Cagliostro," she stated, not as a question, but as a fact. Both of them knew he couldn't stay in Kamar-Taj forever. His destiny was too deeply entangled with the secular world.
"You are already qualified to check it out," she continued, "but first, I have a mission for you. You will accompany Master Kaecilius."
Aidan frowned. "Kaecilius? I thought I would be working with Mordo."
"Mordo's heart is true, but he follows the laws of nature with a rigidity that allows for no deviation," the Ancient One explained, her eyes filled with a distant sadness. "Master Kaecilius's magic is also very strong, but he carries a great obsession. He wishes to use magic to resurrect his wife and son, a grief that could inevitably lead him to seek power from dangerous dimensional spaces. He could be lost to us, or worse, used as a pawn." She looked at Aidan. "Mordo would only preach acceptance. You, however, understand ambition. You see the universe as a system to be manipulated. I hope you will team up with him. Observe him. Perhaps your pragmatism can temper his obsession."
"...I understand," Aidan said, agreeing after a moment's thought. He understood the subtext. This wasn't a mission of assistance; it was a mission of surveillance.
He knew Kaecilius's story. A good man broken by tragedy, who had found hope in the mystic arts. In the talent Aidan had displayed, Kaecilius had seen a renewed hope for his own forbidden research, seeing the boy's youth and power as something he could guide toward his own ends. Everyone wants to guide me, Aidan thought with a flash of dark humor. But they don't realize I already have my own path.
"But are you certain you want me to read the Book of Cagliostro?" Aidan asked one last time. "It contains dangerous knowledge."
"Yes," she said with a faint, sad smile. "Even if I did not show it to you, a mind like yours would eventually find a way to get it. I would rather you read it under my guidance." She looked at him, her gaze seeming to pierce through time itself. "But I warn you, Aidan Parker. Do not link to the Dark Dimension until you are absolutely certain you can control what you find there." She turned to leave. "I will not be on this Earth forever to protect it."
Meanwhile, in London, under a grey, drizzling evening sky, a group of students stood before the gothic architecture of an old church.
"Oh, look, it's little crybaby Dani," a tall girl named Brenda sneered, blocking the path of a smaller, weaker-looking girl. "Did you come here to pray for your mommy and daddy?"
"Leave me alone, Brenda," Danielle whispered, trying to push past her.
Brenda shoved her hard, sending her stumbling back onto the wet cobblestones. "Oh, poor little Dani, so sad!" she mocked, kicking her legs. "Gonna tell the nuns on me?"
A surge of pure, desperate rage went through Dani. She scrambled to her feet and shoved Brenda with all her might. The force of the push was shocking, impossibly powerful. Brenda, who was much larger, was sent flying backward, landing hard on the ground several feet away. Dani stared at her own hands, shocked by her own strength.
Then, the true horror began. Brenda lay on the ground, covering her nose in terror. "Ah! Help!" she screamed. Blood began to pour from her nostrils, even though her face had not hit the ground. A nun rushed out from the church, hearing the commotion.
"What is going on here?" the nun began, but stopped dead as she saw Brenda's condition. The girl was not only bleeding from her nose, but now from her mouth as well.
The nun hurried over to help the fallen girl up, but before she could ask what happened, Brenda's eyes went wide with a primal terror, staring at something just behind Dani's shoulder. From her pupils, one could see the reflection of a monstrous figure—a thing of shifting shadows and too many joints, its form a violation of geometry, whispering her name. But no one else could see it.
"Go away! Get away from me!" Brenda screamed, breaking free from the nun and scrambling backward in a panic.
The others thought she had gone mad. But then, the next scene made them all stop, frozen in shared, disbelieving horror. The body of the screaming girl began to distort. With a series of sickening, wet crunches of bone, her limbs began to fold backwards at impossible angles. Her spine bent until her head was looking at her own feet. Her arms and legs twisted like a grotesque pretzel. Under the cold, indifferent gaze of the ancient church, her body collapsed into a broken, silent heap on the cobblestones.
300 Powerstones for Extra Chapter.