The arches above me glimmered as I passed beneath them. I felt the divine barrier prickle across my skin reminding anyone walking these halls who held power here.
"East wing," Echo murmured. "Cloister Row is just ahead."
I followed the curve of the corridor, boots brushing across polished tiles untouched by dust. The air smelled of old parchment and candle smoke.
Light filtered through stained glass windows, gold, white, and soft amber tones designed to resemble sunrise, even at noon.
The place felt familiar, but I didn't try to remember. I followed my instinct and Echo's voice.
We passed lecterns, study rooms, and alcoves meant for silent meditation. Young acolytes moved through the halls in layered robes, heads bowed, clutching scrolls or whispering prayers.
Then the hallway narrowed. The eastern Cloister Row.
My steps slowed in front of the door: number seventeen. Plain stone.
A single silver marking at the center, a stylized sun split by a sword. The symbol of discipline and devotion.
"This was yours," Echo said quietly. "In cycle six-five-one. You died in that bed."
I didn't answer. My hand was already lifting.
The ward over the door vibrated as my fingers brushed the surface. It flared, sigils unraveling like thread, and read the seal on my forged identity scroll.
For a second, I felt resistance. Then, the glow softened. The door opened inward.
The room was small. A stone desk, a cot tucked in the corner, and a single shelf lined with worn scripture. The incense bowl still sat on the table, the ashes undisturbed.
A white robe folded neatly at the foot of the bed. And near the pillow, a cracked book of prayers.
I walked closer. My name was still etched into the leather, Lucian Klein, faded but legible, in silver thread.
I let the door close. The latch clicked softly behind me.
Then, for the first time since I returned to this world, I allowed myself to breathe.
"Echo," I said quietly, "why did he do it? The old me. Why pull me from another world?"
There was a pause. Then Echo's answered. "The memory's blocked. Even with the full record of your regressor lives… not everything is accessible.
Some pieces are sealed. They'll unlock when certain conditions are met."
"And until then?" I asked.
"Until then, don't worry about it. The answers will come."
I leaned back slightly, eyes drifting toward the wooden beams overhead. "Makes sense. If I had the same knowledge he did… maybe I'd make the same choice.
I already feel it, his influence in how it think and feel. The old me will already go into panic with everything that have happened."
"You're the same person now," Echo said. "It's better if you stop thinking of him as someone else. That past version of you made the choice, and you're living it now."
I didn't argue. He wasn't wrong.
Echo continued. "You practiced Light Praxis here. Dozens of lifetimes. This was the place where your doubts began."
I stood and opened the drawer next to the bed. Inside was a folded piece of parchment, tucked between scraps of old paper.
The writing was mine. Notes, prayers, things I must have studied long ago.
One sketch stood out. A snake curled around a kneeling figure's back. Its mouth clamped at the base of the skull, like it was holding something in place.
KNOCK! KNOCK!!!
I froze, eyes on the door. The knock came again, lighter this time.
When I opened it, a girl stood outside. She had a slim frame. With Silver-blonde hair pulled into a simple knot.
She wore the standard temple robes, though hers were pressed and spotless.
She didn't smile. Just looked me over again, eyes narrowing slightly. "I almost didn't recognize you," she said. "You've changed."
"Two years in the frontier," I replied, keeping my tone calm. "Sun's different out there."
Her gaze lingered. Then she gave a short nod.
"We have the theology seminar at noon. Just thought I'd remind you. Nice to have you back, Klein."
She turned and walked away, robes whispering against the stone floor.
The door clicked shut behind her. "That was Seren Yulehart," Echo said quietly.
"On early cycles you were friends, she often help you. But in Cycle 723… she betrayed you. Afterward you always avoided her. Be careful"
***
By noon, I was seated in the Lecture Rotunda.
The ceiling arched high overhead, with panels of gold trim and glass set into the dome. Sunlight came through narrow crystal insets, catching faint lines of divine fire that traced across the upper vault. Students sat in rows, white robes pressed, hands folded, backs straight.
Seren sat a row ahead, just to the right. When I entered, she raised her hand slightly to mark an open seat. I took it without hesitation.
She turned her head slightly as I sat down. "Didn't think you'd show."
"I don't miss class," I said, keeping my voice low.
A bell rang above. The students straightened. The chant began.
"Lux superna, arde tenebras."
"Lux intus, protege animam."
"Lux ultra, iudica abscondita."
I joined in without hesitation. The blessing stirred faintly in my chest, just enough to activate the aura.
"Sub oculo tuo ambulamus."
"Sub flamma tua procumbimus."
"Per voluntatem tuam surgimus."
High Ordainer Celvayn stood at the center of the dais. His robes were layered in ivory and gray, marked with Radiant Script.
"The Light reveals all," he said. "Even your secrets. Especially your secrets."
Everyone lowered their heads. I did the same.
From the corners of the ceiling, a faint sound like humming glass passed over us. I didn't look. I already knew it was a Watcher glyph, one of the Faith's scanning tools.
It floated near the ceiling, moving in slow circles.
When it reached my row, I kept my eyes down. My fingers rested lightly on the desk.
It paused for a moment. I felt a faint warmth in my chest. I repeated the prayer in my head to keep the aura steady.
After a few seconds, it moved on.
Echo whispered. "Stay focused. It can comeback anytime."
I kept chanting.
Later that night, I decided to gather more information. I moved quietly through the lower archive stacks beneath the east cloister.
The halls were cold and empty, lit only by low wall-lamps. Echo had given me this route, one used by devout scholars and penitent researchers in a past loop.
Echo guided me down the back stairs. "You found something here once. Let's see if it's still here this time."
The walls were lined with sealed shelves and layered scroll wards. Most were untouched.
Behind one locked rack, I found it. A stone tablet marked Academia Anomaly - Classified. The seal burned with Light-based energy.
I hesitated, then pressed my hand against it. The ward flared, bright and hot, but it let me through.
The glyphs on the tablet shifted.
A memory followed.
It was faint at first, then grew sharper. Lines of names appeared, records of students, scholars, and staff who had gone missing inside the academy.
The list stretched across cycles. Some of the names were familiar.
Then something clicked. The list didn't show her name, but I had seen it before. This file was connected to Elara.
That memory came from one of my past lives. I had found this once and linked it to her, but the details were hazy .
"Elara." The name came out on instinct. Then everything went quiet again.
Echo spoke. "Someone else accessed this. The page count is different. Be careful."
I kept my eyes on the tablet. "Which cycle was it?"
"The three hundred and sixty-eighth," Echo replied. "That was the first time you found a direct link between this record and her. "
"I see, this isn't like a normal regression."
It wasn't about repeating the same path until it was perfect. I chose differently each time.
In some loops, I never found this archive. In others, I never met her at all, nor I come to this city.
I turned toward the stairwell. Just above the railing, I caught movement, a shadow slipping away.
Someone had followed me.