Kapitel 6: The eye of logic
I stared at the flickering word on my Status screen:
Domain: Locked.
It glowed like a question I wasn't ready to answer.
But I knew one thing: I couldn't die here. Not yet.
Someone was still waiting.
And I swore I'd survive—for him.
Even if the world forgot his name, I wouldn't.
I clenched my fists and stood. The promise sat heavy in my chest, iron against bone. I was still weak, but I was done pretending I didn't care.
I had to get stronger.
Not just for the Trial. Not to prove anything.
For him.
The dome responded to the rising pulse of my mana. Sparks drifted along the walls, tracing runes like veins coming to life.
Then—
A tremor. Faint. Like a breath held too long.
My knees buckled.
A deep sound cracked through the air, hollow and distant—like a drumbeat under the world.
The runes pulsed. My Status Window shattered into light.
And everything changed.
[ Hidden Trait Triggered – Logic Affinity in Flux ] [ Mental Load Exceeded ] [ Core-Thought Sync Achieved ] [ DOMAIN: Logic Prototype 0.9 – ACTIVATED ]
I gasped. The room twisted.
No—not twisted. Shifted.
Time didn't stop. It opened. Peeled back like a curtain.
The world became transparent. Constructed.
Light. Motion. Equations. All layered around me.
The dome turned into a grid, the walls charted in geometric angles. Symbols floated in midair. Arcane diagrams pulsed in the corners of my vision. Even my own body was sketched in shimmering outlines—tension in my knees, misalignment in my spine, mana flickering just beyond my control.
Everything was data.
And I wasn't just seeing it. I was processing it.
Predicting.
Understanding.
[ New Trait: Simulated Battle Field ]
Grants user temporary predictive modeling of all surrounding elements within 20 meters. Mana patterns, spell trajectories, and terrain flow calculated in real-time. Cognitive Load: 93% Recommended Duration: 20 seconds
I collapsed to my knees, drenched in sweat.
The vision vanished.
But something had changed. I could feel it. Like a door had opened inside me and refused to shut.
The Domain was unstable. Still locked.
But it was there.
Mine.
***
The Next Morning
"You're late," Toren said flatly.
"I'm not," I replied, stepping into the training circle.
Crake yawned. Jorvan fidgeted. Nia sat cross-legged, illusions flickering faintly behind her like whispers.
Toren folded his arms. "We're waiting for orders from someone who's never led a team."
"Because I'm the only one who studied the last five years of Trial maps," I said. "You're strong. I'm prepared."
"That makes you the leader?"
"No. Knowing how to survive does."
Silence.
Then Nia stood. "He's right. We're a mess. Crake nearly failed out. Jorvan can't aim. I panic. You explode things. Cael's the only one who knows what he's doing."
Toren scowled but didn't argue.
"One month," he said.
"One month," I agreed.
He grinned. "If we die, I'm haunting you."
"Fair."
***
We moved to the mana-suppressed chamber. No flashy magic. Just coordination. Control.
Perfect.
I drew a triangle on the floor in chalk. Stood in the center.
"Jorvan: trap sigils. Set them behind Nia. Delay-based. Defensive fallback."
He nodded, too nervous to talk.
"Nia: three illusion sets. Blur, clone, audio. One active at a time. No layering. Prioritize mobility."
"Understood."
"Toren: breaker. No AoE unless I call it. Focused strikes only."
"That'll be new."
"Crake: shield pulse. Rotate anchor on my signal. Don't wait. Trust it."
He gave a single nod.
We ran Scenario 1.
Positions snapped into place.
I closed my eyes.
And it happened again—
For a second, the world peeled open. Diagrams. Pressure lines. Threat zones.
"Execute."
Nia blurred.
Jorvan's trap flickered beneath her.
Crake braced.
Toren lunged—too early.
"Back! Reset!"
"What?"
"NOW!"
Toren froze mid-strike.
Nia's illusion flickered. The trap flared. One second off, and he would've blinded the whole team.
He stared. "You saw that coming?"
"I calculated it. Run it again."
We trained until sunset.
No perfection. But progress.
They were starting to trust me.
And I was learning to lead.
Not with force.
With foresight.
---
That night, I found a note beneath my door.
Wax seal. A vertical line through a circle.
I'd seen it before.
The Logic Sect.
The forgotten scholars of thought-based magic.
The note was simple:
Dome 3. Midnight. Come alone.
***
I hesitated.
But that flicker inside me burned again. And I followed.
The academy was quiet. Lamps hummed. Mana lines pulsed faintly in the cobblestones.
Dome 3 was old. Blackstone. Unlit.
The door didn't open. It unlocked.
Inside: silence. Then a voice.
"You're early. Good."
Runes lit around my feet. Circles. Equations I half-understood.
"You accessed the first gate," the voice said. "There are nine. Each one a layer of Logic. Each one demands clarity."
I waited.
A small orb rolled toward me. Crystal. Inscriptions. A faint light inside.
"Your key to the second gate. If you're worthy, it will respond. If not—you'll know."
I picked it up.
Cold.
Precise.
Logic was not strength.
It was sequence. Strategy. Sacrifice.
A path.
And it was mine.
For better or worse, I wasn't walking it alone anymore.
****
The orb in my hand pulsed once—softly, like a heartbeat trying to remember its rhythm.
I pocketed it and stepped back into the night.
The wind outside Dome 3 was colder than I remembered. The academy grounds stretched wide and empty, shadows long beneath flickering mana lamps. No one saw me return.
Good.
What I'd touched tonight wasn't something to parade.
It wasn't just power.
It was design.
That kind of magic didn't shout. It whispered until the world bent.
And I wasn't ready for anyone to hear it yet.
Back in Dome 73, I locked the door, tossed my cloak on the chair, and sat with the orb cradled in my palm.
Not glowing now. But not inert either.
Just waiting.
I unrolled my notebook. Found a blank page. And began writing again.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein