"The concept of strength has always been subjective. To an ant, a single step from a human can seem like an unbelievably powerful movement. To humans, the muscular strength of a gorilla is something that we can never achieve. To planets, the sheer mass and energy emitted from a star make their own existence seem negligible. However, to those who know the deepest and darkest secrets of the universe, there are beings who can objectively be called the strongest. The Ascendants: Lifeforms who, through a variety of ways, go through a phenomenon called ascension to gain immense power. Through this process, they lose their physical forms and cause ripples across space and time known as Paradigm Shifts. Among them, there are three whose existences reign supreme above all other Ascendants: The Illuminator, The Warden, and The _____."

I heard my name being called out—Wren! My eyes shot open, and I turned towards the source of the voice. I found myself sitting on a log in what seemed to be a forest, with a campfire crackling in front of me. Beside me sat a young woman wearing silver armor and a sword strapped to her waist, her face reflecting annoyance. Though I couldn't recall ever meeting her, a strange sense of familiarity washed over me.

As I surveyed my surroundings, I noticed other individuals gathered around the campfire. Sitting across from me was a middle-aged man, muscular and solemn, with bandages wrapped around his hands. Resting on his shoulder was a woman wearing a white cloak and hat, sound asleep, clutching a staff in her hands. To my right stood a figure clad in a suit of armor, their face hidden from view. Engaging in conversation with them was an old woman sporting an eyepatch and multiple daggers hanging from her belt.

It was an odd scene, one that should have perplexed any sensible person, and yet, an inexplicable sense of tranquility washed over me. "Wren, I understand you have much on your mind, but you shouldn't space out when someone is speaking to you," the girl in armor, Clara, said with a pout.

"Ah, Clara, leave him be. He's probably preoccupied with our next battle, as usual," remarked the man with bandaged hands.

Clara retorted, "That's why I was trying to lighten the mood with some conversation. We've been fine-tuning our plan for months. There's nothing left to improve, so why not savor this brief moment of peace?"

The atmosphere lightened as everyone around the campfire smiled. I watched as they continued their lively chatter, and a warmth filled my heart. Questions swirled within me—why did this scene bring me such joy? Who were these people?

Suddenly, my mouth moved involuntarily, as if controlled by an external force. I became a mere spectator in my own body, as words spilled forth against my will. "Yes, let's cherish this moment now. Our fallen comrades would have wanted it."

Muscles in my face shifted, forming a smile. My body convulsed, and a whirlwind of emotions swept through me—sadness, regret, guilt, anger, and more.

An awkward silence settled over the group, and heads hung low. It was broken when the old woman looked up and replied, "Tomorrow, we'll settle things. We'll ensure their sacrifices were not in vain."

"Not in vain?" The middle-aged man rose to his feet, awakening the young woman sleeping on his shoulder. "Are you suggesting their deaths were justified, mere means to an

end? Hundreds of lives—sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers—were stolen from us just to reach this point! Don't you remember? We started as a thousand, and now only the six of us remain!"

Both the man in armor and the young woman stood up, attempting to calm the rising tension. "I was merely suggesting that wallowing in our survivor's guilt serves no purpose," the old woman sighed.

She stood up, gesturing towards me. "Besides, as long as he survives, their deaths won't be in vain."

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

The man's expression darkened, and he took a step toward the woman. Just as he was about to speak, an icy-cold voice interjected. "How can you say that?" I turned to see Clara, tears glistening in her eyes. "HOW DARE YOU ACT LIKE YOU KNOW HOW WREN FEELS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THE PAIN HE EXPERIENCES WHEN ONE OF US DIES?! EVEN A FRACTION OF THAT PAIN—"

"Clara, that's enough," I uttered, my words once again controlled by an external force.

"I'm fine. I made this choice. I made a promise to everyone, and I will see it through to the end—for all of their sakes."

"Wren... you're right. I'm sorry for losing my temper."

"You're right, brat," Anastasia chimed in, scratching the back of her head. "I apologize for being insensitive."

"Well, it's good to see you're not brooding anymore," the middle-aged man shook his head, patting my shoulder. "And if worse comes to worst, we can always leave Orsted behind and escape. Nothing can breach his armor, anyway."

"Hey! I'm not some disposable meat shield for you guys!" Orsted exclaimed.

"And at least leave me with Yelena." Orsted pointed at the girl in white clothing. "By the time enemies break through her barriers, the demon lord would’ve died of old age."

"Huh?! My mana pool might be large, but it can still be depleted! Besides, leaving an innocent girl like me to face a group of enemies would be cruel!"

"You two need to go get a room. "

"SHUT UP, ARES!"

Laughter bubbled up within me as I watched their banter, despite having no memory of meeting these people before. Their faces, their voices, their aura—all felt strangely familiar. Yet, I couldn't recall any previous encounters with them.

As my laughter escaped against my will, they all stared at me for a moment before joining in the mirth.

"Ah, but tomorrow marks the end, doesn't it?" Ares said with a tinge of sadness.

He stood up abruptly and declared, "If I survive tomorrow and return to my world, I, Ares Dola, want to go back to my wife and child and spend a happy life with them!"

Orsted, too, rose and shouted, "I, Orsted Cantor, want to return to running my business!"

"I, Anastasia Thurber, plan to enjoy the rest of my days with my grandchildren!"

"I, Yelena Ghildyal, intend to go back to my lab and continue my research!"

"I, Clara Hong, want to reunite with my little brother and fulfill our promise!"

One by one, they stood and proclaimed their deepest desires upon returning to their respective worlds. As their expectant gazes turned toward me, my body moved without my control.

Standing up, I smiled and declared, "I, Wren Aspectrum, will fulfill the promises I made to everyone by living a normal life!"

Our eyes locked, brimming with newfound determination. Afterward, we began preparing to turn in for the night.

My body, guided by an external force, led me to a nearby stream for washing up. As I peered into the water, a sense of unease washed over me. My reflection revealed a different face from what I remembered—older, with scars adorning my arms and face. A particularly deep one crossed my cheek.

My once-black hair had turned nearly white, with only a few remnants of black at the top. However, the most striking change was my eyes. The brown irises of the past had transformed into gleaming silver orbs.

What was happening? Was this my appearance in the future? Was this entire sequence of events a glimpse into my destiny? It all felt inexplicably familiar.

Suddenly, a sense of dread crept over me, causing the hairs on my neck to stand. Despite my efforts, I couldn't turn my head to investigate. Then, I heard the sound of a deafening explosion and anguished screams erupting from behind me. As I managed to shift my gaze, I beheld the campsite engulfed in a raging inferno.

A second, even more powerful explosion shook the ground, knocking me off balance. The world continued to tremble as I struggled to regain my footing. Amidst the chaos, I faintly heard a voice calling out.

"Wren! Wake up!"

Wait, that voice... it felt oddly familiar.

"We're going to be late for school!"

_____________________________________________

And for the second time today, I awoke, this time to the forceful prodding of my adorable yet violent younger sister, Layla Aspectrum.

"You know, it's not necessary to be so aggressive so early in the morning," I groaned, sitting up groggily in bed.

"And you know, you don't have to be so bad at waking up," Layla retorted. "Jeez, Wren, my condolences to your future girlfriend."

"At least my future partner won't have to deal with an abusive—" I stopped abruptly, feeling a menacing dark aura emanating from behind me.

"Why did you stop talking, Wren~?" my sister said, her smile a stark contrast to the coldness in her eyes.

"Oh, it's nothing," I replied, beads of cold sweat forming on my back as I narrowly avoided a tragic demise by blunt trauma. "Anyway, I'll go wash up now. I'll be downstairs in 10 minutes."

Layla shot me one final glare before storming out of my room. I yawned and stretched before making my way to the bathroom adjacent to my bedroom.