Chronis woke up. Her face was impossibly beautiful—so unreal it almost felt out of place in the world. She rose from the bed, prepared herself, and soon met up with Serik.
Both of them wore expressionless faces, though a trace of concern lingered beneath the calm. It was the look of people standing before their next decisive move.
Serik was the first to speak.
"So," he said flatly, "what are we going to do now?"
Chronis smiled faintly.
"This body," she said, "is different. It isn't normal."
She paused, her gaze steady.
"The Aeon Node is something beyond understanding. This isn't a simple transformation from male to female. This body is entirely new."
She continued calmly, explaining what she had already confirmed.
"My athletic ability, movement, breathing—everything is superior to that of an ordinary human. Of course, it's still a human body," she added, "just… refined. Better than others."
Only then did she explain the most important part.
"Because of this," Chronis said, "I can choose a new path."
Serik's eyes narrowed slightly.
She trusted him. Anyone else, she would never say such a thing aloud. An unawakened Aspect at this age was a fatal weakness—if others learned of it, she could be attacked without hesitation.
This was the perfect opportunity to speak with Serik while the others were still asleep. Before leaving the scene with Mila, Chronis had quietly mentioned to Serik to meet her early in the morning. There were things that needed to be discussed—plans that could not be spoken of openly.
In a place like this, walls had ears. Some conversations could only happen in secrecy.
Chronis explained that her plan was to choose the Aspect of Cognition—the path of wisdom—for now. In their previous life, they had always suffered from a lack of planning and insufficient understanding of situations. Too often, they had been forced to react rather than control events. This time, she intended to use foresight, calculation, and layered schemes to their advantage.
Serik did not object. The reasoning was sound—practical, even obvious. Given their past failures and narrow escapes, the choice was both understandable and valid.
Realistically, the Aspect of Cognition was often ridiculed. It offered no direct combat power, no flashy techniques, no overwhelming force on the battlefield. To most people, it was nothing more than a supporting path—one meant to stand behind others rather than in front.
Everyone wanted to be a powerful hero. They wanted visible strength, explosive abilities, and the kind of power that could crush opponents head-on. As a result, most chose Aspects like Essence, Steel, Cinders, or Tides—paths that displayed raw might and immediate dominance. Compared to those, Cognition was dismissed as weak, impractical, and unimpressive.
And that was precisely why Chronis intended to choose it.
Chronis had chosen the Aspect of Continuum in her previous life out of necessity, not ambition. Back then, her body had been weak and skinny. She hadn't been attractive—just average at best—and during her younger years, she was frail, lacking the physical strength others naturally possessed. By any realistic measure, she had been below average.
She understood that choosing a flashy, front-line path would only lead to an early death. Standing tall and charging forward was never an option for her. Survival came first. That was why she chose time—an Aspect few desired, overlooked and underestimated. It was subtle, indirect, and dangerous in the right hands. While others chased power they could display, she chose a path that allowed her to live.
Moreover, there was no reason for her to choose a combat-oriented path in this life. Serik existed. If they were to encounter danger, he would naturally stand at the front. Chronis had already analyzed this dynamic long ago—overlapping roles were inefficient. What they needed was not another blade, but a mind that could sharpen every move they made.
The Aspect of Cognition was rare. Very few chose it. Even those who lacked combat talent often avoided it, opting instead for flashier paths despite knowing they were ill-suited for them. It wasn't because the Cognition path was dangerous—it was because it was difficult. Worse, it was considered useless.
Why?
Because Cognition was fundamentally the art of deduction. Observing a person's clothes to infer wealth. Reading posture to judge confidence. Tracing habits to predict behavior. To most people, these were things ordinary intelligence could already accomplish. In their eyes, the Cognition path merely replicated what a clever mind could do without magic.
And so it was looked down upon—misunderstood, underestimated, and discarded.
Chronis knew better.
But Chronis knew the true value this Aspect possessed.
She had learned it the hard way—during the First War.
Back then, she had encountered an enemy who cultivated the Aspect of Cognition. He had been nothing special in direct combat, yet he was terrifying beyond measure. Through meticulous planning and layered schemes, he had trapped nearly fifty people at once, maneuvering them into a situation where their lives rested entirely in his hands.
Chronis remembered it clearly. Every escape route had been sealed. Every reaction predicted. They had struggled like insects caught in a web, unaware they had already lost the moment they stepped into his territory.
If not for an unexpected variable—a rank four Adept abandoning the battlefield alongside another Adept, their clash shaking the ground and rupturing the terrain—his plan would never have collapsed. The tremors shattered the carefully prepared formation, creating chaos where there had been none.
Had that not happened, countless people—including both her and Serik—would have died without ever understanding how.
That was the true power of a Cognition practitioner.
Not strength.Not spectacle.But control.
Thus, despite others looking down on it, she did not. Chronis understood its importance. People would come to realize its true value as well—but that would be much later, in the future. There was no need for her to dwell on it now.
She left Serik and went to have breakfast in the dining hall. By the time she arrived, many of the other children from the orphanage were already seated, eating quietly. The food was plain and poorly balanced—nothing resembling proper nutrition. But it was an orphanage; she hadn't expected anything more.
Chronis did not intend to remain here for long anyway.
She already had a plan prepared.
The plan would unfold in the future. For now, she had only one task—to enroll in the academy and attend her classes.
The academy admitted students at the age of sixteen and concluded their education at nineteen. After graduation, representatives from various powers—palaces, clans, sects, and courts—would arrive to recruit outstanding individuals. Those who demonstrated exceptional talent would be selected and offered benefits, resources, and protection, all in exchange for strengthening the influence of the organization they joined.
It was a system designed to harvest brilliance.
Chronis intended to make full use of it.
In her previous life, she had fulfilled her time at the academy as required—but nothing came of it. She was ordinary. There was nothing exceptional about her talent, no brilliance that caught the eyes of palaces or sects. No one chose her.
Serik and she were left behind.
With no backing and no resources, they stepped into the demonic side of the world. A realm where survival meant killing, where growth demanded blood, and where morality was nothing more than a burden. They murdered, plundered, and fought anyone or anything that stood in their way, all for the sake of resources and strength.
That was why the first two hundred years of her past life had been nothing but desperation—constant escapes from death, scraping by on remnants, gambling their lives for the smallest gains. It was only in the later years that she encountered something truly significant, an event that shifted everything and granted both her and Serik an overwhelming advantage.
That single turning point had changed their fate.
Obviously, she intended to inherit that opportunity in this life as well. There was no reason to let such a turning point slip away now that she knew of its existence.
But not yet.
The time had not arrived.
Looking at the situation, she finished her meal and left on her own, heading toward the academy. She had no intention of staying too close to Serik right from the start. Drawing attention that early served no purpose.
Over time, it would be natural for a friendship to form again. But appearing overly familiar from the very beginning was unnecessary and risky. For now, it was better to move alone and handle things her own way.
She entered the academy early, before the others arrived. There was nothing unusual about it—she still had to undergo awakening and choose her Aspect. Time wasted served no purpose.
A man greeted her at the entrance. After hearing her reason for coming, he nodded and led her forward without delay. Soon, they arrived at the Hall of Awakening.
The hall was plain. No grand statues, no overwhelming pressure—just a quiet, solemn space meant to formalize a decision that would shape one's life.
The man turned to her.
"What Aspect do you intend to choose?"
"Cognition," Chronis replied flatly.
He paused. Surprise flickered across his face. After a moment, he let out a small sigh, as though he had heard this answer too many times before.
"Cognition doesn't grant combat abilities," he said, his tone measured and rehearsed. "It's meant for planning, analysis, and strategy."
He continued, clearly following a script he had repeated to others.
"I won't stop you—it's your choice. But I'd recommend selecting something that displays power. Fire, water, steel… those are the paths most forces value. Strength is visible. Why choose brains when overwhelming force can solve the same problems?"
Chronis understood what he meant.
This was the mindset of those at the lower levels. They never thought beyond what was immediately visible. This man was only a Channeler—rank two. To him, Cognition was nothing more than a thinking aid. He didn't even consider the possibility that it could be used offensively.
Most people didn't.
The attacking applications of the Cognition Aspect were only discovered much later in the future. For now, it remained misunderstood, underestimated, and dismissed.
Chronis remained silent.
Let them stay ignorant.
She didn't bother replying.
Chronis simply stepped forward and walked toward the awakening apparatus. The process was mechanical, almost crude—a standardized redox-based awakening method used by the academy. There was nothing difficult about it. She only had to stand still and make a single request: the Aspect she wished to embody.
"Aspect of Cognition."
The machine responded.
The initial engraving began.
This first stage did not grant strength or techniques. It merely carved the Aspect into one's body and existence. Growth afterward depended entirely on effort, comprehension, and survival. Once engraved, the choice could never be erased. It was permanent.
The man watched silently, a trace of bitterness flickering in his eyes.
She'll learn the hard way, he thought.
Chronis remained unmoved.
Her appearance alone drew attention. She was unnaturally beautiful—far beyond what could be considered normal. It wasn't merely attractive features; it was an almost unreal perfection. If talent in beauty existed, she would have been considered gifted.
All of it was the result of the Aeon Node.
She had awakened the Aspect of Cognition.
Almost immediately, she felt its presence settle within her. Her thoughts became lighter—faster, clearer—like a fog lifting from her mind. Ideas connected more smoothly, observations sharpened, and the world seemed easier to process.
It was nothing like the awakening of the Aspect of Continuum in her previous life.
Back then, her perception had felt heavy, stretched across invisible layers. Time itself had seemed tangible. With a thought, she could slow it slightly, hasten it subtly—everything moving to a rhythm she dictated. It had been a deep, dragging sensation, as though reality itself resisted and yielded at the same time.
This was different.
Cognition did not weigh on the world.
It sharpened her mind instead.
Chronis understood at once—these were two entirely separate realms of power.
The man asked for her name.
"Rhea," she replied.
He nodded, then pointed her toward the direction of the class she was assigned to.
Without another word, she turned and headed off.