"Duke? Where are you? How've you been? I've been meaning to check in."
Kaleem's voice echoed slightly in the quiet hallway just outside the training hall, phone pressed tightly to his ear. The line buzzed for a moment before a familiar voice snapped back with a mixture of frustration and concern.
"I should be asking you that! Where have you been? You haven't been attending classes since that incident, and you didn't even text me. And now you ask how I've been?"
Kaleem winced. He deserved that. He'd vanished from the regular world, swept into an enigmatic organization, undergone a transformation that broke his cognition, and hadn't thought of anything else not even to so much as drop a message. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Sorry, Duke. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I, uh… signed up for this special program which lets me skip college to study somewhere else."
There was a pause. Then the rustle of bedsheets. Duke had clearly sat up straight.
"Is it reliable? Are you safe? No one's forcing you into this, right? You're not in danger or under some whack organization's control? Are you eating well? Sleeping?"
The rapid-fire concern tugged at Kaleem's chest. He smiled softly.
"It's alright, Duke. I'm safe. It's weird, yeah, but not bad. I'll tell you everything someday. When I'm done with this phase of training, I'll come visit, alright? Promise."
There was a long sigh on the other end of the line. "...Fine. But be careful, man. And don't ghost me again."
Kaleem chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
They talked for a little longer—brief but genuine. It reminded Kaleem of why Duke mattered. He didn't have many people in this world. But Duke had always been there. Through late-night study sessions, shared ramen cups, failures, and petty victories. A Brother, more than a friend.
As they ended the call, Kaleem stood still, letting the warmth of that connection settle over him. If I ever get strong enough, he thought, I'll bring Duke into this world, show him the truth outside that mundane life.
His phone buzzed again—not a call this time, but a soft ping. A message.
>Your ride is waiting. Proceed to the eastern portal station.
Kaleem tucked the phone into his pocket, took one last look at the training hall adjacent to the vast Grand Hall as he walked toward the exit which led to the outside of the jewelry store where he had first entered with Andrea. Waiting for him was the person sent to pick him up was the blonde guy whose face he doesn't like much as it could be seen from his frowning expression and beside him was what looked like a Porsche 911—a car as expensive as it was stylish—was going to be his ride.
The journey back to his old apartment was silent. Streets that had once been the backdrop of his daily life now felt distant—almost irrelevant. When he stepped inside, the weight of understanding settled on him: this place, this normalcy, was now a thing of the past.
He didn't linger.
He packed quickly—clothes, old notebooks, a photo of him and Duke. Just the essentials. For a brief moment, he stood by the window, watching the familiar yet now unfamiliar street. Then, without hesitation, he locked the door, slid the key beneath the mat, turned, and walked away.
---
The new place was... stunning.
A deluxe suite tucked away in a secluded part of the city, hidden from ordinary perception. He arrived through another portal—still the fastest way to travel—and stepped into a lounge with polished obsidian floors. The portal shimmered shut behind him.
Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting warm light across pristine white walls. Luxurious black furniture and a massive flat-screen TV gave the room a clean, bold aesthetic that suited him perfectly.
His personal room was no less impressive: a massive bed adjusted to his preferences, with a brown desk responded for keeping room essential. A section of the suite had clearly been designed for mystical work and experimentation, humming quietly with energy that resonated with his mana.
Kaleem took it all in, silently.
The organization wasn't just investing in power—they were shaping the future for mystics, giving them places to think, study, and grow without worldly distractions.
He dropped his bag on the bed and walked toward the Training room where a platform awaited—five crystalline pillars surrounding a low-seated cushion. He took a deep breath, settled down, and retrieved the scroll for the Astral-Map Meditation Method.
He unrolled it.
The opening lines seemed to shimmer:
> "Visualize the sky beyond skies. Form a map using your mana as the source, your body as the host, mind as the canvas and the soul as the brush, now trace it with your will. The mind becomes still as the constellation is given form. Use the constellations and form your Astral Map bringing unity of different stars to one."
He closed his eyes and began.
The meditation process was layered, subtle. Visualizing a constellation sounded easy but hard in actual process but here, Kaleem's Earth memories came to the rescue—images of various star constellations came to mind, Orion, Perseus, Cygnus even some Chinese constellations as well as all the memories from nights spent with Duke stargazing after parties or pulling all-nighters.
The familiar celestial arrangements grounded him. He traced them across the inside of his mind, each breath syncing with a different stellar formation. The method wanted him to place himself within a map of stars that didn't exist—yet he managed to navigate it using stars that did.
But then the stars collapsed—he couldn't hold them all in his mind at once. The pressure fragmented the image.
Five minutes of thinking,
"Why don't I try doing this one at a time?" he murmured, and decided to focus solely on Cygnus.
An hour passed.
His breathing slowed. His thoughts calmed. He hadn't formed the map yet—but he had found the method.
Still, curiosity smoldered in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to keep meditating; boredom tugged at the edges of his mind.
So he sat up, stretched his back, and reached for his phone. Andrea had sent him a link earlier, one he hadn't checked amidst the flurry of his training.
He tapped it open.
A strange site loaded. The interface was dark-themed, the design minimalistic but alive—shifting symbols glided across the screen, pulsing with subtle light.
>Welcome to the Mystic Web. Authentication Required.
He tapped "Log in with Token".
The screen shimmered, then responded:
>Mystic Web recognizes Initiate Kaleem. Access granted.
The page split into sections:
- [Mystic Forums]
- [Mysterious Creature Registries]
- [Mystery Research Logs]
- [Contract Offers & Missions]
- [Strange Library]
- [Marketplace: Relics, Symbols, and Conceptual Materials]
Kaleem's eyes widened. It was a living, breathing archive of the mystical world.
Threads discussed Anchors, Mutations caused by evolution and Characteristics. Journal entries from Seers who have explored dream spaces. Bounties for rogue Mystics. Rare meditation diagrams. Techniques long-forgotten, resurfacing in digital form. This was a goldmine.
But one thing became immediately clear—knowledge wasn't free.
Just as he began browsing, a post caught his attention:
>"Consequences of Not Understanding Your Mystery — A Survivor's Tale"
>By Morgan Kellenhart.
>Cost: $150,000.
Another made his breath hitch:
>"Theory: The Relationship Between Mysteries and Characteristics"
>By Author: Dr. Leontius Vrai.
> Cost: $10,000,000.
Hiss
He took a sharp breath as the prices were to shocking even for him and they seemed to be the few cheapest pieces of information in their categories.
This new, twisted world was vast and unknowable—but he had been granted a door into it. And now, he intended to gather every tool he could to navigate it.
He closed the screen, heart steady, breath calm.
In his mindscape, the stars began to subtly respond to his breathing. Slowly, they shifted—aligning ever so slightly, as if drawn to rhythm.
Tomorrow, he'd begin again in earnest.
But tonight, he meditated once more—this time focusing on just forming the Cygnus Constellation Map. Within his mindscape, the stars shimmered and began to arrange themselves in the structure of the Cygnus pattern.
As they settled into place, a strange sensation rippled through his soul.
It felt like a subtle boost—his body grew lighter, and his soul… cleaner. What was once a cloudy, uneven form within him was now smooth, clearer—more complete.
An unexpected side effect. The forming of the Cygnus Map hadn't just aligned his thoughts—it had refined his soul.