The world around Aion dissolved like mist under the morning sun. One moment, he stood amid the ruins of the Invictum estate; the next, he was surrounded by a realm that defied every law of nature. Mountains floated in impossible arcs, rivers cascaded upward, and the skies shimmered with hues no eye could name. This was the Ring's dimension—a space outside the confines of time and reality, a crucible for those destined to surpass ordinary limits.
Aion's small body trembled with awe and anticipation. He could feel every thread of energy in the air: Mana, Ki, Qi, Soul Flow, Ryuu Energy, and Arcane Essence. They swirled around him, drawn to the Ring of Infinite Cycle, which now radiated with a vibrant storm of colors. He did not yet know how to control it, but instinct told him that mastery would come with patience, practice, and courage.
A whisper, neither male nor female, echoed through the dimension.
"Child… you are not yet ready. But you will be. One day, you will stand beyond all you see here."
Aion tilted his head, listening. The voice carried authority, yet it did not speak in words he understood. Instead, it flowed directly into his mind, threading through his thoughts, tugging at memories he did not yet possess. The Ring was alive—not merely an object, but a teacher, a guide, a silent judge of his determination.
Time flowed differently here. Days outside equated to decades inside, and Aion felt his body and mind stretching, growing faster than nature intended. His muscles hardened, reflexes sharpened, and senses expanded. Each breath drew in multicolored energy, each movement honed skills he had only glimpsed in fleeting visions. Martial arts, swordsmanship, magic—he practiced all at once, testing boundaries that would have killed a normal human.
And then, at the edges of his vision, a fleeting shadow appeared: a silver-haired girl, standing on a floating cliff, staring directly at him. Her eyes burned with a strange intensity. Aion wanted to reach her, to speak, but before he could act, she vanished, leaving only the faintest whisper of presence.
"What… who are you?" Aion murmured, though he did not expect an answer.
The Ring pulsed, as if amused, but it remained silent. Instead, the dimension itself seemed to react, bending and stretching, presenting new challenges. Energy tendrils shot across the floating plains, testing his reflexes. Aion leapt, spun, and struck with precision beyond what his years should allow. Every success was a step forward, but every mistake brought pain—a reminder that even prodigies must respect the path to power.
Hours or decades passed. He could not tell. Each trial pushed him further, revealing limits and testing endurance. He learned to harness one energy at a time, then combine them. Purple light of Mana, silver streaks of Ki, crimson flashes of Soul Flow, golden sparks of Ryuu Energy—they coalesced, flickered, and bent to his will for brief moments.
Still, mastery eluded him. There were whispers of hidden energies, unknown techniques, and dangers that the Ring had yet to reveal. And always, in the corner of his mind, the eight faces flickered, blurred yet beckoning, urging him onward.
Finally, exhausted yet exhilarated, Aion sat cross-legged on a floating rock, breathing deeply. He could feel the first true resonance between his aura and the Ring. For the first time, he sensed potential beyond any mortal, a spark of something greater. Yet he also felt the weight of responsibility. One day, he would leave this dimension. One day, he would step into the world that had forgotten his family. And one day, he would confront forces that might not wish him to succeed.
Aion opened his eyes, violet and silver light dancing in them. The Ring glimmered in response, as though acknowledging his determination.
The child smiled.
"I am ready," he whispered. "I will grow, and I will rise. And when the world remembers the name Invictum… it will tremble."