The theater is packed, the air alive with anticipation. Rows upon rows of velvet-covered seats stretch toward the stage, where golden curtains shimmer under the bright stage lights. Chandeliers hang from the domed ceiling, casting a warm glow over the elegantly dressed crowd. Murmurs of excitement ripple through the audience as the event reaches its climax.

A presenter in a sharp tuxedo holds an envelope on the stage, the room going silent in anticipation.

“And the award for the best e-book goes to…” he announces, pausing dramatically before grinning. “A Magician’s Path by Dominic Eñeforte!”

Thunderous applause erupts, filling the theater as Dominic rises from his seat, his heart pounding. Clapping hands echo in his ears as the spotlight finds him. He adjusts his tie, his face a mix of surprise and gratitude as he walks down the aisle.

Reaching the stage, he accepts the trophy from the presenter—a sleek, crystalline sculpture of an open book. The crowd’s cheers swell as he steps up to the microphone.

“Thank you,” Dominic begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I honestly didn’t expect this. Writing A Magician’s Path started as a personal journey, something to channel my thoughts and dreams. To see it resonate with so many of you is both humbling and surreal.”

He pauses, glancing at the audience. “This book was inspired by the idea of perseverance and the belief that even the most ordinary among us can achieve extraordinary things. I want to thank my family, friends, and everyone who believed in me, even when I doubted myself. This award belongs to all of you who dared to dream with me.”

The crowd erupts into applause again, and Dominic smiles, lifting the trophy briefly in acknowledgment. He steps back, waving goodbye as he exits the stage.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Backstage, the theater's noise fades to a dull hum. Dominic nods politely to staff and attendees as he makes his way through the bustling corridors, his mind already elsewhere. Finding the restroom, he slips inside, locking himself in one of the stalls. For the first time all evening, he allows himself a moment to breathe.

Setting the trophy carefully on the ground, he leans against the stall’s wall, closing his eyes. But the brief silence is interrupted by a familiar sound—a soft chime as a sky-blue holographic screen materializes before him.

Dominic, I have urgent news!

He straightens immediately, his demeanor shifting. “Ninhursag,” he says, his voice sharp with concern. “What’s the news?”

The screen flickers, and new text appears.

Clark has met Gaia, the Celestial Paragon of Sylvestria.

Dominic’s eyes widen, his breath catching. “Gaia? She’s never taken action against me before. What else happened?”

The holographic screen shimmers as Ninhursag continues.

Gaia thought Clark was you—that you had forgotten your past regression. She accessed the Aetherium and revealed parts of your regressions to him. It was difficult, but I managed to extract him in time.

Dominic exhales slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. “That’s… a relief,” he says softly, though his voice carries a tinge of unease.

He has never encountered Gaia directly, not even in his countless regression cycles. His knowledge of Celestial Paragons comes from ancient scrolls he painstakingly uncovered, fragments of forgotten lore. The fact that Gaia, Sylvestria’s Paragon, has appeared now—at this precise moment when Clark inhabits his clone body—is unsettling.

“What a coincidence…” he mutters under his breath, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the crystalline trophy. His thoughts swirl, trying to piece together the implications of Gaia’s actions. “As long as Gaia doesn’t realize it’s not me, then… this might still work in our favor.”

…

The holographic screen displays three dots, lingering long enough to make Dominic raise an eyebrow.

“What’s with the ellipses?” Dominic asks, his tone mildly curious.

I’m quite curious, and I have three questions.

“Alright, shoot.”

First, why did you choose Clark? A Magician’s Path is a story about your experiences—without the regressions, gore, or bad events—and resonated with many readers. Secondly, why did you choose Clark specifically? Out of millions of readers, why him? Third, why are you insistent that Clark doesn’t witness your regressions and only glimpses? Wouldn’t it be more efficient for him to understand what truly happened?

Dominic blinks. “That’s actually four questions.”

Just answer my questions.

Dominic exhales, his shoulders relaxing as he prepares his response. “For the first question… Before you arrived here, Clark accidentally died. When I first arrived in this world, I was still adjusting. I was weak, both physically and magically, and a simple car crash could’ve killed me. I had no documents, no identity—just me dropped into this world from Sylvestria.”

He pauses, his voice softening. “I was also… homeless when I arrived. I had nothing—no money, no place to stay, no connections. But I had a mission: to choose someone to take my place in Sylvestria and carry out my plan. That’s when I wrote A Magician’s Path, a web novel based on my experiences from past regressions. I made Célestin the main character, while I acted as the narrator. The novel was meant to guide whoever read it to the items they would need.”

How did you write a web novel if you were undocumented, homeless, and… well, a hobo?

Dominic’s mouth twitches, a faint trace of annoyance flashing across his face. “Well, I cast a simple mind spell on the cashier at an internet café.”

He coughs lightly, brushing past the comment. “Anyway, after writing the first chapters and posting them online, I left the café, completely sleep-deprived. I wasn’t paying attention and wandered into the street. That’s when it happened.”

He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now. “A car was speeding toward me. I froze. All I could think was that I couldn’t die—not yet—not before my plan was complete. But then, I heard someone yell. I turned just in time to see a man with brown hair and eyes. It was Clark. He pushed me out of the way and…” Dominic’s voice trails off briefly. “He got hit instead. He died from blood loss before help could arrive.”

The holographic screen flickers as Ninhursag processes the information.

What happened after that?

“After Clark’s death, the police questioned me. It wasn’t ideal since I was undocumented, and they searched for any trace of me but found nothing. That’s when I met Clark’s parents. Naturally, they were grieving their son’s loss. But something unexpected happened.” Dominic’s voice softens, and he leans back, a distant look in his eyes.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“They learned about my situation—no documents, no identity—and… they adopted me.”

Do you know why?

Dominic shakes his head. “I don’t. But in that moment, what I saw in them was pure kindness. It reminded me of my parents back in Sylvestria. I also felt this overwhelming guilt. Clark had died saving me. I should’ve been more careful. So, to honor his bravery, I chose him. After his body was cremated, I manipulated his soul into the clone body I’d prepared in Sylvestria and placed him there.”

So, you chose him out of guilt? Not because he was part of your plan?

Dominic’s lips curl into a faint smile, his tone shifting slightly. “Oh, don’t misunderstand. His parents told me that Clark had finished reading my web novel before his death. He understood the story and its importance. He was familiar with everything he needed to know. So, guilt or not, he fits the plan perfectly.”

I see… to think all of this happened before I arrived here. But, how did Clark arrived in Sylvestria when you’re weakened?

“Ah, that’s simple. After Dominic’s body turned into ash, I manipulated his soul with my remaining Mana and transported it to my body clone in Sylvestria.”

I see. Anyway, answer the other questions.

“Yeah, so, I don’t want Clark to see my regressions because I…” Dominic hesitates, his voice trailing off.

Continue

“…I want to protect him from… Fate,” he finally says, his tone subdued.

Fate?

Dominic sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to take a while to explain,” he mutters. “You know what the Aetherium is, right?”

Yes, it is a metaphysical plane beyond reality's physical and conceptual layers, the fundamental source of all existence and phenomena. Within it lies the ultimate record of all events, knowledge, and possibilities across time and space. It serves as a boundless, all-encompassing repository of information—the underlying foundation of the universe itself. All that occurs, has occurred, or could potentially occur is stored within the Aetherium’s unfathomable depths.

“Correct,” Dominic replies, nodding. “But there’s more to it. The Aetherium doesn’t just passively record events; it also marks the fates of people based on the knowledge it gathers. Every time Célestin and I regressed, those moments were recorded, creating new timelines. And from those timelines, the Aetherium begins to predetermine our fates, solidifying patterns.”

He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle. “The more we regressed, the clearer it became: the Aetherium recorded our failures—failing to defeat Malignor, our loved ones dying, the endless suffering. It’s as if it branded those outcomes into our existence.”

So, if Clark now gains all the memories of your regressions, the Aetherium would interpret him as you? It would mark his fate with the same tragic pattern you and Célestin always experience?

Dominic nods grimly. “Yes, exactly. As long as Clark doesn’t see or inherit those memories, the Aetherium won’t link him to my cycle of tragedy. He’ll remain outside of that predetermination, free from the burdens that have plagued me.”

But why would Gaia want to intervene?

Dominic’s expression darkens, his gaze turning distant. “Because as a Celestial Paragon, it’s her duty to maintain balance. The Aetherium isn’t just a knowledge repository—it’s a guide for balance across all realms. If something diverges too far from its records, Gaia and other Celestial Paragons are compelled to act. She thought Clark was me, a fractured version of my past self, and she acted to ‘restore balance’ by revealing my regressions to him.”

He sighs again, his voice quieter now. “To Gaia, following the Aetherium’s order is absolute. She would intervene if she thought I—or Clark—was disrupting that order. That’s why she mustn’t realize Clark isn’t me. If she did… she’d pull him into my cycle without hesitation.”

So, Clark remains free if Gaia doesn’t uncover the truth or the Aetherium doesn’t recognize him as you?

“Exactly,” Dominic confirms, his voice firm but weary. “That’s why I’ll do everything I can to keep him safe—from Gaia, from the Aetherium, and from the cycle that’s ruined so many lives.”

Since you don’t want him to know about what happened in your past, how come you think it’s fine for him to see glimpses through the skill Chronicle Insight?

Dominic leans back, his expression calm but thoughtful. “Glimpses are different. As long as he doesn’t have access to the full memories, the Aetherium won’t associate him with my fate. Chronicle Insight is just a skill that shows fragments—small, scattered pieces of my regressions.”

He pauses, a faint smile touching his lips. “Those glimpses are carefully curated. They’re meant to inspire him, to give him motivation to grow stronger, to push beyond his limits. He doesn’t need the weight of everything I’ve experienced; just enough to light a fire inside him is more than enough.”

Dominic’s gaze hardens slightly. “If Clark were burdened with the full memories, it wouldn’t make him stronger. It would break him. Chronicle Insight is a tool I control to guide him toward becoming the person Sylvestria needs.”

By the way… I forgot to tell you that Célestin is hurt and furious because you left him alone after everything you two endured together. And Clark… well, he’s starting to hate you for dumping such a massive task on him in Sylvestria.

Dominic exhales deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the universe's weight presses down on him. He stays silent for a moment, his gaze distant.

“Well…” he begins, his voice soft but resigned, “I expected that. It’s not something they’ll understand right now, and I don’t blame them for how they feel.”

He closes his eyes, a faint flicker of sorrow passing across his face. “But this isn’t about me—or even them, really. It’s about Sylvestria’s future. Clark will stay there, in Sylvestria, and he’ll experience peace, something I’ve never been able to truly have.”

Dominic’s voice grows quieter, almost as if he is speaking more to himself than to Ninhursag. “He’ll have friends, loved ones—people who will support him and care for him. And while he lives that life, while he builds a future for Sylvestria, I…”

He pauses, swallowing hard, the words catching in his throat. “I’ll stay here. Alone. Leaving everything I love behind forever.”

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken pain and sacrifice, a stark reminder of the burden Dominic has chosen to carry.

“Hey, Dominic, who are you talking to?” a male voice calls out from outside the stall.

Dominic’s eyes widen, and the blue holographic screen vanishes in an instant. “Oh, uh, I was just talking to someone on the phone!” he calls back, keeping his voice steady.

He unlocks the stall and steps out, greeted by a man with short black hair and sharp eyes, his face lighting up with a broad grin.

“There you are, Dominic!” The man throws an arm around Dominic’s shoulder, pulling him into a friendly half-hug. “I’m so proud of you, bro! That speech you gave was awesome!”

Dominic can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Kei,” he replies warmly.

Kei has been one of the first people Dominic befriended in Japan, ever since Clark’s parents enrolled him in high school. Kei’s easygoing personality and unwavering loyalty remind Dominic of Arthur from Sylvestria, making their bond feel natural and familiar.

“Anyway,” Kei says, releasing him and rubbing his stomach dramatically, “let’s go grab some dinner. I’m starving!”

Dominic chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure, let’s eat.”

As they walk out of the restroom and into the lively streets outside the theater, Dominic can’t help but feel a flicker of comfort. Even though he is no longer in Sylvestria, he has managed to find a sense of belonging here, one friendship at a time. For now, that is enough.