Chapter 1: The Astral Gate

Well, I’ve found it. An "Astral Gate"—a spatial portal. Never could expected its location to be revealed so blatantly, right here, at a famous tourist spot in southern England. This place is surrounded by massive stone walls, arranged in a circular formation like a sequence of dominos. The stones forming the outer circle are perfectly proportioned, with precise spacing between each one. Inside, smaller circles of similar stones create layers within layers. The outermost ring is made of smaller stones, not quite as large as those at the center but crafted with equal precision.

At the core of this structure stand five monumental gateways constructed from massive megaliths. Each gateway comprises three distinct monoliths, their immense size a testament to the ancient effort and knowledge required to move and position them. The four surrounding gates align toward the energy gate at the southern end of this architectural marvel. The energy gate absorbs light from the sun or moon, channeling its power to the surrounding portals. Called the "Astral Gate," this construction is said to connect to other worlds. For thousands of years, "Astral Travelers" have used these gateways, guided and sustained by the life force of these ancient stones. However, to the locals, this place is simply known as "Stonehenge"—a mysterious monument and a symbol of English heritage.

Astral Travelers pass through these gates in their astral form, where their spirit separates from their physical body, freely traversing the realms of the spirit world. In this state, they can enter random worlds and live there as if they were born into them. They can return to their original world at will, bringing back knowledge and experiences from their astral journeys. This might explain why one day, a colleague or classmate suddenly seems to have gained strange, innovative skills or ideas. They learned it in another world.

Then there are instances of déjà vu: when you feel like you've already experienced a certain moment. It’s not necessarily a glimpse of the future. Instead, you might have unknowingly visited a parallel world in your astral form and encountered the event there.

And yes, travelers from other worlds also visit ours. They come and go. They might speak our language, mingle among us, then suddenly vanish without a trace. After some time, they might reappear, sometimes only hours later, sometimes after years. This depends on their original world's timeline. For example, an hour on Earth might equate to years in a parallel universe. A traveler who spends an hour "away" could return to find their parallel family has aged generations.

But a physical body, theoretically, isn’t meant to pass through these gates. Theoretically. Now, let’s put theory to the test. Rules are made to be broken anyway

I’m an eccentric. A loner. No friends, and my family lives far away, so my days are mostly spent immersed in manga, video games, and occult studies. Yes, you could call me a shut-in. I prefer darkness and feel disenchanted with the outside world. Well, not with nature—I adore trees, plants, and the serenity of untouched landscapes. My disenchantment lies with the "supreme species"—humankind. How ironic and laughable, since I’m human myself. A human who detests humanity.

The only thing I care about outside my room is the flow of energy. Energy is everywhere and comes with countless interpretations and definitions. Vibrations, frequencies, or whatever those spiritual gurus on Jotub ramble about. To simplify: sensing energy allows you to read minds, predict outcomes, glimpse the future, or channel that energy for your purposes, such as casting spells or curses. It’s a vast field: feng shui, numerology, astrology, tarot - all based on controlling one’s energy and influencing the energy of others.

But I’m no spiritualist or mystic. Just a curious individual who delves into plants and energy studies for the sheer thrill of it. I am Jul - a botany student, a herbalist, and a witch. To be honest, I’m bored with this world. Finding a way to another realm seems like a fine idea. Or at least, testing the possibility of passing through an Astral Gate in physical form.

If you drive from London to Stonehenge, it takes less than two hours. The surrounding scenery is breathtaking, with the colossal stone architecture standing in the middle of an expansive field. Built atop an artificial hill by ancient hands over 3,000 years ago, Stonehenge exudes an aura of timelessness. Verdant grass stretches endlessly in all directions, painting the landscape in vibrant green. Despite the summer’s dry heat, cool winds sweep through the area, adding a sense of vitality.

Tourists flock here to marvel at this ancient wonder. They fall silent, overwhelmed by the grandeur and awe that radiates from these stones. And here I stand, equally awestruck by the magnificence of the Astral Gate laid bare before me.

To activate the gate, certain conditions must be met: an immense energy source and restoration of the ancient magic circle, damaged by time and conflict. The imperfect state of the ritual site makes opening the gate a daunting task. Waiting for the area to clear of tourists adds another layer of difficulty. But no matter. Tonight—during the simultaneous lunar eclipse and blood moon—I will succeed. By then, this place will be deserted.

The larger challenge lies with the displaced, broken, or missing stones. Moving and repairing these megaliths is no easy feat. Instead, I’ve drawn a new circle using crushed stone and mercury. Of the three central gates, two have collapsed. I’ll work with the remaining one. Following a formula I copied from a 13th-century German mage’s Book of Shadows (which I "borrowed" by photographing its pages during a visit to Deutsches Museum last summer), I’ve prepared the minimum requirements for activating the portal: the magic circle is drawn, and the ritual patterns are set.

As the lunar eclipse draws near, I wander around the site, inspecting my preparations. “Perfect,” I murmur, admiring the intricate array of crushed stone and mercury. Two small metallic kites, tethered to the central gate with silver wires, stand ready to channel energy. Silver, after all, is the best conductor of electricity at ambient temperatures.

The weather here is peculiar. One side of the site is bathed in rain, while the other remains dry. It’s as if the two elements refuse to belong together. This means that no matter how many clouds gather, the moonlight will still pierce through to the energy gate.

The charged clouds gather above, signaling that the moment has come. Flashes of light streak across the horizon like the strobe of a camera, illuminating the night sky. Behind me, the heavens remain clear, with the full moon and stars shining bright.

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It begins.

A bolt of lightning strikes one of the fragile metallic kites. The kite disintegrates instantly, but its sacrifice is not in vain. The immense energy from the sky surges through the silver wire, igniting the magic circle below. Ancient glyphs carved into the megaliths glow with a brilliant light. The energy gate absorbs the light of the blood moon, and from it pours a crimson liquid. Constrained by the ritual circle, this blood-like substance flows steadily toward the central gate, forming a Blood Path.

The lunar eclipse begins. The Earth’s shadow gradually envelops the moon. The central gate starts to reveal itself, though it remains incomplete until the total eclipse. A translucent red gelatin forms within the space between the two towering megaliths.

Almost there...

Suddenly, a cold wind sweeps through, heavy with an oppressive weight. The air feels thick with tension. Faint whispers echo from the energy gate, as if someone on the other side is trying to communicate. The moon is nearly covered, leaving only a faint sliver of light.

The crimson blood like liquid now fully become a thoroughly soaked Blood Path, and the translucent red light emerge between the megaliths solidifies. I take a deep breath, feeling the energy flow in the air. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. This has to be the moment. All of my research. All of the time I spend on experimenting. This is it.

With a decisive step, I approach the central gate.

The sky gradually darkened, as if the world was sinking into a deeper abyss than usual. The moon, always a symbol of gentleness and light, was now completely veiled by Earth’s shadow. The total lunar eclipse began, and the silver light vanished, leaving only shades of blood and darkness. The ground around me, where the ancient gate stood tall, began to transform rapidly. Streams of bright red liquid, like molten blood, poured forth from nowhere, bubbling and radiating a strange heat that made me instinctively step back.

The grass around the area withered the moment it touched the crimson liquid. Lush green leaves fell, curled up, and turned to dust in an instant. Life was drained the second it made contact. Only the mound I stood on remained untouched, like a tiny island in a red ocean. I stared at the magical liquid swirling and churning, a mix of fear and curiosity rising within me.

Kneeling down, I tied a pebble and a piece of white quartz to a silver wire, then slowly dipped them into the crimson pool. When I pulled them out, I was astonished to find the pebble completely dissolved, while the quartz had turned transparent, glowing bright red with vein-like patterns crisscrossing its surface. The silver wire remained unaffected, still gleaming with its pristine luster.

“No poison,” I murmured, “but definitely not something to touch bare-handed.” I crouched, observing the liquid closely. Magical materials like silver and gemstones seemed to react violently with it, a clear indication of the immense magical energy within. That energy was unmistakable—this was the power of the Astral Sea.

An idea sparked in my mind. If this liquid truly carried energy from the Astral Sea, this was a rare opportunity to enhance magical items. I took out a small silver cauldron, filled it with the magical liquid, and began placing my tools inside: an old tarot deck, a tarnished ceremonial dagger, and a pouch of mixed gemstones.

Ruby, topaz, amethyst, emerald, sapphire, and tiger’s eye went in one by one. When I pulled them out, each stone shone brilliantly with its characteristic color, as if awakened from a deep slumber. A satisfied smile spread across my face. Success. I carefully filled a flask with the magical liquid for future use, then packed everything back into my bag.

“Now, I’m ready,” I said to myself, eyes fixed on the stone gate. But things didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

As I approached the gate, the ground suddenly began to quake violently. An unexpected tremor threw me off balance. I stumbled to the right, and my bag slipped off my shoulder. In my desperate attempt to grab it, both the bag and my right arm plunged into the bubbling crimson liquid.

The magical liquid splashed onto my face. In that moment, a cold, cutting sensation coursed through my body like a blade. I shot upright, trying to pull my arm free, but when I looked down, I froze in horror. My right arm—it was gone. No pain, no blood, just emptiness where it had once been.

Stunned, I barely registered the gate shaking more violently. Cracks ran across its stone surface, and massive pieces began to crumble. “The eclipse is ending already?” I muttered, confusion lacing my voice. "Lunar eclipses usually last for hours... why did this one end in mere minutes?" Panic surged through me as I added, "Oh shoot! This gate is collapsing!"

I sprinted toward the gate, my mind blank except for the singular thought of escaping through it before it was too late. With every ounce of strength left in my body, I leaped forward just as the stone gate completely shattered behind me. As the moonlight returned to bathe the land of Stonehenge, everything fell back into eerie stillness. But I was no longer the same. My right arm was lost, and within me churned a mix of fear and curiosity.

I found myself falling into a white void. Nothing surrounded me but a hollow emptiness. I floated aimlessly, accompanied only by the weight of my consciousness.

Astral World, I thought. There were no sounds, no warmth, only my awareness drifting in an endless expanse.

“Visualize: create a door,” I whispered. A warm energy surged from within me, like soaking in a hot spring. The energy condensed, forming a door in the infinite space. When the door was complete, I pushed it open and stepped through. Visualization is like elementary school-level witchcraft—basic stuff. Everyone knows it. If you don’t, well, maybe it’s time to pick up a beginner’s guide to Mysticism 101.

The Astral World unfolded before me, shimmering like a celestial painting. The infinite space was dotted with countless stars, each representing a unique world. I floated among the galaxies, feeling as weightless as if I were on a raft drifting down a gentle stream. Beneath me was a strange, water-like surface, its translucent ripples separating the Astral World from the physical realm below. This boundary, often referred to as the Astral Surface, mirrored the world above, creating a shimmering reflection of stars and galaxies.

The Astral Surface is said to be a veil of pure energy, thin yet impenetrable to physical forms. Standing on it feels both grounding and surreal, as if gravity exists but barely holds you. It’s a threshold—a meeting point of the tangible and intangible. As I stood there, marveling at the interconnected vastness, I spun around, a small but exhilarated speck in the grandeur.

Suddenly, two stars collided right before my eyes. A powerful surge of energy erupted from the impact, creating brilliant trails of light. From what I’d read in the Book of Shadows, this was a rare phenomenon. If the frequencies of two worlds aligned, such events could result in time travel, doppelgängers, or exchanges between realities. Otherwise, the worlds could merge, forming a new one.

I was entranced by the sight, but quickly refocused. Another thought entered my mind: “Visualize: restore the body.” With the concentrated magic in this realm, materialization was far easier. I directed the energy to my right elbow, feeling it gather into a sparkling liquid form. The liquid stretched, solidified, and finally shaped itself into a fully functional arm. I clenched my newly-formed hand, laughing aloud in the silent void.

But before I could relish the moment, my body was suddenly pulled toward another star. The space around me grew brighter and brighter until everything became blindingly white. I struggled against the force, but my body began to dissolve into tiny particles of light. All I could think was: What awaits me in the next place?

Or maybe I’ll get there and find another freakishly short lunar eclipse waiting for me. What’s next? A world where gravity goes on holiday every Tuesday? Whatever it is, bring it on. I’m ready—or at least, I think I am.