"Uh... hey dad," he uttered, with a sense of awkwardness for talking to a stranger for the first time who was treating him so familiarly – a stranger that in this case thought he knew him for his entire life.

"How have you been? We've been calling for the past few days, but you weren't picking up... your mother was worried."

"My bad... I have been busy with studying...," Alt came up with a sorry excuse, still trying to compose his thoughts and trying to avoid telling anything that would give him away as being an impostor.

"Studying even after the camp was over? That sounds too farfetched, even for you. Are you perhaps spending time with a girl instead, is that why you didn't come home?"

"Dad!" Alt protested, his mind flashing to Ronel's delicate features. "It's not like that." The man on the other line laughed kindly.

It's like their personality is the same, Alt thought, thinking of his own father. Even though they had never met before, the teen boy felt a sense of connection and warmth for this man.

"Relax, we trust you to stay safe," the older man said seriously. "Just be sure to come visit us next time, okay?"

"I'll try," he promised earnestly, seeing how much it meant to the progenitor, who unbeknown to himself had recently lost his real son.

"How's mom doing?" It was a bit weird to call her that, especially when he had just talked with his real mother a few days ago, after he announced he wasn't visiting Voralbruck this time around.

"Busy, you know how she is," the father said. "She is working on a program for the orphanages to provide better meals... but it hasn't been easy," he added with some bitterness.

Alt had his suspicions about the reasons behind his sour tone. Both his parents had been working as public servants in the Levantia-Voralbruck Reunification Committee, an artificial entity created by the Levantian government with the goal of expanding the Kingdom's influence and policies in the occupied territory, as well as of eventually fully assimilating the lands. It was created after the formal surrender of the Voralbruck resistance movement, and although the big shots running it were all Levantian nobles designated by the Crown for the task, they still needed some local faces to serve as liaisons with the native population, who with their knowledge of the customs and innerworkings were essential to keep things running during the transition period. Whether his parents had voluntarily joined or been coerced into this job he didn't know, and every time had had broached the topic they refused to answer. Fact remained that this had made them deeply unpopular among their fellow countrymen, many of whom would take every opportunity to show their disdain, which also carried over to the little Alt, who was labeled as the son of collaborators even among children his own age, leading to him being ostracized and not feeling truly at home anywhere.

When he had turned ten, he stumbled upon letters from an old friend of his father, hidden in a family album that inexplicably was missing photos randomly. The sender made reference to them having been comrades in the Resistance and hinted at Alt's father being a prominent figure in the movement rather than just a sympathizer on the sidelines.

Before he could learn too many details, his mother caught him reading them and after scolding him to not touch others’ belongings recklessly ended up burning the fading papers without a trace.

Altair and his second father chatted a bit more, with the teen boy still remaining careful and evasive with his answers but growing increasingly comfortable at the familiar voice. It helped that his Spirit Twin's father didn't pressure him. Eventually, he came up with an excuse to disconnect, emotions overwhelming him.

It seems that they are struggling here too but are still trying to make an impact in the community.

"Thanks for giving me the heads up," he addressed the witch after the call was over, ice in his voice.

"If I had, I would have missed your priceless reaction," she laughed. "More importantly, now you know there are people in this world to whom you are dear and who are relying on you. Do not disappoint them."

Alt nodded, understanding what she was getting at. If he didn't become capable of stopping the disaster in ten years, then his parents here would be among the first to fall.

"I'll get going then," he rose up, heading towards the door. "The candles aren't going to exhaust themselves all alone. Any tips?"

"Tips? Hmm," the witch pondered. "There is one. Trust your instincts. They may be able to take you further than you ever thought possible."

Alt gave her a small bow, unsure about the hidden meaning in her words that he was sure was lurking but decided to heed her advice.

Outside, he was mesmerized by the beauty of the night sky, with countless stars shining brightly like Christmas lights. Apparently, the lack of light pollution from his world really made a difference... or maybe there were just more celestial bodies visible from this planet. Either way, he wished he could share this moment with a special someone. His eyes lingered on the single ghostly-silver orb dominating the horizon.

It would be cool if they had more moons here. But I guess the conditions in both worlds need to be similar, and an extra moon would make a big difference.

He took a moment to appreciate the scenery and the silence, with even the distant chirps and roars he had been hearing throughout the day ceasing. He had been a little surprised at not seeing any fauna in the vicinity all day, especially with the proximity of the lake nearby. On second thought, remembering how even tiny rodents packed a serious punch in this world he realized it had been quite reckless to just dive in the lake like that without any precautions, as who knew what kind of monsters could be lurking beneath the surface. Probably the witch either had some protections in place around her lair or had set up a defensive barrier so he could fully concentrate on his training without being disturbed.

His jaw almost fell to the floor when he saw a bunch of winged creatures flying swiftly across the night sky. It was hard to estimate their size because of the distance, but from their appearance they looked like pterodactyls. As they were above him, the creature in front of the formation let out a roar, breathing out fire and dove down at near-sonic speed.

Shit, shit! Is that a dragon or something? Why is it coming here?!

He was about to cry for help with all his might when to his endless relief the leading beast changed its trajectory, apparently following after a bird and not noticing him at all. A brief crunching sound indicated the end of the chase, although in the teen boy's eyes, the poor bird couldn't have been more than an appetizer for the massive creature, that was now oozing smoke through its nostrils before regrouping with its companions and flying away into the distance.

Feeling weak in the knees after this near-miss, Alt dragged himself to the candle pillars, which now ended right above his navel level.

And the other Alt dared to go into this forest all alone? Am I really such a fool myself? He thought, the encounter leaving quite an impression.

The chilly breeze brought him back to his senses, and right away he attempted to light three candles at once, and to his astonishment succeeding on the first try. He checked his mana core and was able to see it in greater detail than ever before, gaining a better understanding of the structure of the mana channel. It seems that the period of rest combined with the recovery potion had done him a world of good. He was not about to settle just yet. A mix of fear and excitement kept propelling him forward, leading him to create additional spheres to target a greater number of candles over and over, only to immediately pull the mana back regardless of success or failure. He was eager to grow stronger and see the wonders this world had to offer, but at the same time a deep apprehension was always in the back of his mind. He could already anticipate the sort of challenges he would soon be facing at school, with the added possibilities for being tortured at the hands of heartless young masters, or even worse, at the hands of their lackeys who usually tended to be the worst of the bunch, trying to cement their fragile position. He didn't even dare to begin considering seriously the supposed demon invasion that would follow or he felt he would drive himself crazy.

The next big benchmark was when Alt succeeded at lighting five candles at once, using each finger of a single hand, and then immediately conjuring five microscopic fireballs with his other hand as soon as he finished exhausting the flames. It was the dead of the night, and he was again getting tired, but he didn't allow his guard to drop down, still afraid that some aerial beast would sneak up on him.

The teen boy made a startling discovery as his control improved. It seemed that despite not being in the vicinity of any other sources of fire, his fire mana was still recovering during the breaks, although at a significantly slower pace, even without any conscious effort from his side. He noticed that his mana channel was generating new mana particles whenever there was free space available all by itself. This was a game-changer, because it meant the candle exercise was no longer a zero-sum game, and he would actually be able to increase the amount of mana at his disposal – he only needed a new place where to store it. His mind's eye immediately jumped to the Origin Point which he had begun carving the previous day, only to remember how painful the incompatibility of using the wrong mana type had been.

Doesn't matter, I will just have to carve a brand-new channel, he decided.

He considered asking the witch for permission before proceeding, as he remembered her warnings about foolishly building mana channels without planning ahead one's development. It was the middle of the night however, and he didn't want to disturb her. The real reason was that his current capacity simply didn't suffice for him to hit all targets at once. As soon as he would light five wicks, he needed to re-charge before continuing. This way he had a shot at completing the goal he had set for himself – not just finishing the task before the witch's deadline, but also managing to light all the candles at once, which he suspected had been the real goal behind the exercise. Secretly, perhaps he wanted to impress his teacher as well, so he carried on with the plan.

The process went much more smoothly than the first time around, with him knowing clearly where to direct the incoming mana particles, and how to condense them to form a new Origin Point. He needed a workaround for his plan to stand a chance – first, he had to spend up his energy lighting up several candles, in order to free up storage space for the passive re-charging to activate. While it slowly did its job, he focused on pulling in the mana particles that the small flames were generating inside his core.

The amount of mana being generated this way was quite limited, but he couldn't afford to pull everything in all at once, as it would both exhaust the flames and defeat the purpose, since having them form into an actual channel was a gradual process. Still, he felt that at his current skill level the slow pace more than fulfilled its intended role. After some time, a second mana vein of similar size to the first one was now established in his core. Upon a closer look, it was possible to see that it wasn't as thick or defined as the first one, but that must have been a symptom of lack of use that he would correct soon enough.

He was elated at the result, and considered building a third one, but decided to resist the temptation, instead filling both channels to the brink of their capacity. The big moment had arrived – he conjured five spheres on top of every finger from his left hand, and after making sure they were under control, tentatively added a sixth one on the index finger from his right hand. He wanted to rush ahead and attempt to invoke a seventh one but realized that he first needed to master the previous stage, or his projectile accuracy would go down the gutter. After succeeding at igniting six candles at once, he was relieved that over half of his mana reserves still remained.

It seems that I am getting more efficient and wasting less mana.

He was straining from concentrating so much and adding a seventh and eight spheres afterwards was proving to be quite difficult, with his progress slowing down and it taking more and more time to advance to the next level. Alt realized that like in any other discipline it was natural for periods of stagnation to appear, but it did little to quench his impatience.

He replayed his previous interactions with the witch, looking for any hidden clues in her words that he could use for a breakthrough in the matter. He wondered how strong his Spirit Twin counterpart had been, remembering that startingly the boy had been taller and more muscular, despite their uncanny facial resemblance. It had been hard to evaluate the extent of the differences between them because of how drained he was from the forest attack. Come to think of it, Alt realized from being in his Twin's shoes while navigating the memory of his lotus search that he didn't limp. Was he able to use magic, and if so, just how well? From the amulet conversation, it followed that the Twin's family had the same financial limitations that his own did, meaning it was unlikely they had been able to provide him with any private tutelage, and he wasn't sure if public middle schools would have magic instruction, considering the witch had told him a large portion of the population never had their cores activated in the first place. It was possible however that his father had passed on some of his knowledge to the son, just like he did in Alt's own world in regard to the basics of swordsmanship, but there was no way of finding out at his point. His mother on the other hand had always taught him history and other humanity subjects, and he didn't know if the same happened in this world or if she had knowledge of some mystic arts.

Alt then remembered the witch's explanation about Soul Fragments, and how he had gotten the short end of the stick in life. Having received the remaining Soul Essence from his Twin, eventually he was supposed to inherit his powers according to her, but there was no exact timeline for that to happen. Was there any way to hasten the process?

He again checked his mana core, taking some time to admire its inner workings – outside of the glowing crimson mana channels, countless miniscule mana particles were flowing, both haphazardly and with perfect coordination, resulting in a mesmerizing light show. It was truly a shame that the inhabitants in his world never got to experience such a sight – perhaps they would be more inclined to focus on self-betterment rather than on crushing others if they had, but then again, knowing human nature they would likely just exploit the system as much as possible for their benefit.

Alt wondered how the Soul related to the core – after all, he couldn't sense it at all, and was curious to see what was happening with the newly-acquired Soul Fragments. He made a note to ask his teacher about it when the chance arose. For now, he settled on the only pointer he had – the spiral tattoo he had received upon his Twin's disappearance. He sat down to meditate on it, surprised to immediately feel a mystical presence emanating from it. It had a strong resonance with the outside world and appeared to be a part of a much bigger whole that he could not begin to comprehend. After a few minutes, the warmth that it began to produce was complimented by a dim glow, growing in power.

Cool, but is this just for show?

Besides the intensifying light, nothing in particular was happening. Alt decided to replicate the fire sphere experiment to see if it had any effect. He expected that his divided concentration would be a hindrance, making even conjuring two or three spheres a massive challenge. To his amazement, with just a thought, the fingertips on his left hand all started glowing, paving the way to blazing orbs that he had to cut short before they connected with each other and burned him to a crisp in a chain reaction.

Whoa... what was that?

Alt repeated the invocation, but to his dismay, his abilities had returned to the previous baseline state. However, the teen boy could sense his understanding of the process had improved on a subconscious level.

Does it work like an amplifier? On one hand, Alt thought this was a bit like cheating, but he wasn't one to throw an advantage away. He decided it would be helpful to use this boost to reach his goal, so that it became easier to replicate the process the conventional way afterwards.

He focused on his tattoo, and again fired up his mana into his extremities. To his disappointment, it ended up being just a regular attempt, with him hitting a wall at the eight finger before his concentration dissipated.

It doesn't work every time for some reason, he thought in frustration. Every so often however, an unknown power would trigger, and Alt used it to hit all ten candles at once, amazed at how easy it had been and at the accuracy.

"Yeah!!!" He roared while jumping in celebrations, forgetting about not wanting to disturb the witch's sleep, and earning a couple of menacing howls from the forest in return. This was the proof of concept he had been waiting for, even if he had used some crutches to get there. It was all a matter of repetition now before he could do it entirely on his own.

Alt made a conscious decision to continue relying on the tattoo's benefits for now, both because it didn't work every time, so he still had a chance to practice the standard methods, and also in the hopes of understanding if there was any pattern or cause behind the hidden power's activation. Finally, the sun began to rise in the distance, and the teen boy felt that he was about to pass out. His last attempt where the tattoo had remained idle almost succeeded at hitting all targets. He had been reliably able to conjure all ten spheres for his past few tries but getting them to ignite the wicks and not the nearby bushes was a different story. Usually, he succeeded in absorbing back the misfires before they caused extensive damage, but it took away the limited strength he had left.

Alt heard the door from the hut creaking, and soft steps emerging from the inside, heading in his direction. He composed himself, realizing that this was the last attempt he was going to get for a while. Searching the depths of his channels for the last chunks of mana, since due to his increased carelessness a good portion had dispersed for good, he stared intently at his ten fingertips that had begun glowing and to which the dawn's gentle light gave an ethereal appearance.

Now's the time! he thought, not looking back at his master's approach. Thrusting his hands forward, he gritted his teeth and with all remains of his concentration guided the spheres towards the ten wicks. Some had been almost near misses, but they still managed to strike each and every single one of them.

A proud grin was beginning to form on his lips when he finally let go of everything, collapsing on the ground like a ragdoll, his vision dimming into nothingness. By the time his head reached the grass, the teen boy was already unconscious.

"Foolish child," the witch uttered, with a smile creeping across her face.

***

Alt woke up, finding himself in the same bed that his Spirit Twin had spent his last days in. As soon as he realized where he was, he jumped up, still not at peace with his counterpart's demise. He almost tripped on his own feet, still dizzy. The last thing he remembered was all ten candles running ablaze. From the light entering through the makeshift window, he assumed it was daytime, except he couldn't be sure if it was the next day or if he had been in bed for longer.

What happened? he wondered. Oh yeah, I passed out. Dammit, I was so focused on hitting all of them that I forgot I still needed to absorb them back.

"There was nothing left to absorb," the old lady's voice sounded. "You got a little too carried away on that last attempt, so much that after you decided to take that little nap, the remaining mana exploded the candles to pieces."

Double ouch, Alt felt embarrassed at his apparent failure to both complete the task and to control himself.

"Did I fail? Can I maybe try again?" he hurriedly asked, before she could even begin to reply to his first question.

The old lady looked at him like he was clinically insane.

"If you want to talk about failure, then yes, you did completely fail at self-preservation and at following basic instructions. After all, you really were supposed just to get good at lighting and absorbing a single candle at a time - there was no hidden meaning with this exercise for you to unravel on the first day. Depending on your progress, I was planning to show you how to take things up a notch the on the second. So, everything beyond that was entirely your own initiative, including this," she said, pointing at his chest where his newly formed second channel was pulsing. "But a little craziness and total disregard for convention may be exactly what you will need to succeed in your impossible mission."

"But I didn't manage to absorb all ten... and I am not sure I could replicate it right away anyways...," Alt said, unsure if he was in trouble.

"Give yourself a little credit. This is an exercise that back in my day took at least a month to master for the average apprentice. Granted, few would spend more than a couple hours a day at such a mind-numbing task, but that says something about you too."

"Really? And what's the record then?" Alt beamed up at this favorable comparison.

"Five seconds," she replied nonchalantly.

"Wha... what? How?" His jaw was almost at the ground from disbelief.

"Talent," she said, shrugging. Seeing his dejected expression, she clarified:

"And also, years of prior magical instruction. After all, not all schools use this exercise, and if an apprentice has a third- or fourth-level core with a solid portfolio of fire channels, melting the candles to the ground is but a piece of cake. Just like in your case, technically they don't meet the requirements, since the candles don't burn out on their own. However, as you can see, sometimes the end result is what matters the most."

The teen boy was satisfied at the explanation.

"By the way... back there, there was a time I kind of hit a rut. So, I was just trying a bunch of random things, when I decided to see if this could do anything," he said, pointing at his shoulder with the spiral tattoo. "I was able to make it glow but couldn't figure out what else it could do. But then...," he paused, remembering the elated feeling when he could access skills far beyond his real ability.

The witch raised an eyebrow.

"Then, when I tried the candle thingy again, I felt near unstoppable for a moment, and was able to hit several additional targets before I could think twice."

He kept describing the experience, noticing that the old lady got restless, with a grave expression on.

"We will have to make some adjustments to your training," she finally said, relaxing.

More training?

His body was feeling better, but it still cried for help. For a change, it wasn't his muscles that were sore, but rather the inside of his chest felt like he had eaten the spiciest food in Levantia. It was a weird sensation, but he attributed it to his core's overexertion and adaption to the additional mana capacity.

"Sure, but before we continue, could I quickly go back to my world? Since I didn't know I would spend the rest of the week here, I didn't really get to tell my parents that I would be unavailable the rest of the week before I left," he said, hoping she'd buy his story. There was some truth in it after all, just not the most important part.

"You will have to brush up your lying skills," she said. "Then again, you will have plenty of opportunity for that starting Monday."

That's it, she really can read my mind, Altair concluded. I got to be careful with what I think.

He met eyes with the old lady who was sporting an innocent smile.

"Alright, you earned yourself one hour. No need to go to sleep this time, I will summon you back in exactly sixty minutes."

***

Alt found himself in his room, startled at seeing that evening was setting, and having a hard time to keep track of the date and time with all these constant fluctuations.

Is this how jet lag feels?

First things first, he decided to live up to his promise and update his parents so they would not expect to hear from him for the rest of the week. He sent them a text saying he was going on a trip with some friends to a remote area where he would have no reception and promised to call them upon his return. He snickered at the thought that the most unbelievable part about his deception was that he, the eternal pariah was supposedly going somewhere with a group of friends.

He checked the rest of his messages, seeing two texts from Sattan. The first was a quick thanks for helping pack his stuff, and the second was apparently sent from the comfort of his home after his arrival in Voralbruck. It was a selfie from the glasses boy wearing a t-shirt with a 2D Milena seductively posing in a nurse outfit, plastered across the chest. Alt cringed, recognizing the image he had found online to send his friend in order to cheer him up during recovery, but softened after seeing Sattan's joyous expression and the victory sign he was making.

He is a good guy... but where did he print that thing so quickly anyway?

The teen boy's attention then shifted to the real culprit behind his training's interruption. There were notifications about two missed calls from Ronel and a few unread texts, each sending his heart fluttering and making his cheeks turn as red as if he had been setting them on fire with mana.

"Are you ignoring your onee-san?" The first message read, making him bury his head in his hands from second-hand embarrassment. She had caught him once watching a cartoon on his cellphone, and often used the characters’ exaggerated mannerisms and expressions to poke fun at him.

"Come on, I am bored 😢"

Then he checked the third message, which didn't have any accompanying words. It was a dark-lit close-up selfie that at the top cut right above the lips, and at the bottom went all the way down to expose the very upper part of the chest, enough to see a bra string and the valley-like area above the solar plexus. There was a birth mark near the smirk that left no doubt in his mind about who was the object of the photo. Alt gulped, blinking to make sure he wasn't delirious or imagining things.

He gathered the strength to read the final message which proved to be the final nail in his coffin.

"If you want to see more, you know where to find me."