Cillian closed his eyes and summoned the system.

"System, verify the results of this formula."

He etched the long string of numbers and symbols into the glowing space of his mind. The system processed it, and in a blink, the result unfolded before him:

[The formula is wrong.]

Cillian exhaled slowly, his frustration mounting. "As expected… I can't add anything to this formula."

He slapped his forehead, helpless. "Damn it. Fine. Run the original formula again."

This time the response was different.

[The formula structure is correct. Completeness is lacking. Cannot verify results.]

Cillian's eyes narrowed. The structure was correct. It meant he was on the right track , but there were missing pieces, gaps that no amount of guesswork could fill. He had left the assessment world days ago, yet the formula continued to gnaw at him.

⸻———x——————

One Day Earlier

Cillian stood before the heavy door of the principal's office. The carved wood seemed to radiate a quiet authority. Taking a steadying breath, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

Principal Elara Everhart sat behind her desk. Her gaze met his instantly, and the pressure that followed almost knocked the air out of his lungs.

A crushing weight pressed against him, not physical, but spiritual. He had felt nothing like this before he became a lower god. Back then, ignorance had been a shield. Now, knowing even a sliver of her power, he understood how terrifying she truly was.

"Principal Everhart" Cillian greeted, his voice calm,. He lowered himself into the chair across from her desk. "You called for me?"

He already had a guess. Elara likely wanted to know more about the assessment world, what had been left behind.

Elara's star-filled eyes flickered with a strange light. "I didn't call you here for anything else. I just want to know…" Her voice trembled slightly. "She, my master, left something in the assessment world. Tell me. What did she leave behind?"

Cillian voice staggered, caught off guard by the sudden desperation in her tone. But before he could answer, she shook her head quickly and clarified.

"No, I don't care about treasures or research. What I truly want to know is… did she leave any words for me?"

Her eyes softened for a moment, almost human in their longing.

Seeing his surprise, Elara straightened, regaining her composure. "Don't worry. I have long since stopped caring for whatever wealth she might have left."

With a wave of her hand, her divine world unfolded behind her like a curtain drawn open.

Cillian's breath hitched. What spread out was vast, stretching beyond mortal imagination. A divine world of indescribable size, radiating laws and forces that pressed against his chest.

And deep within his mind, the Endless Abyss stirred in response. The black-red vortex appeared behind him, expanding as if eager to compete with her world.

Elara's expression shifted. She had seen the Abyss before, but it had not been like this. Its growth unsettled her.

"In truth," she said, her voice tight, "what she left behind can't just be divine fire. It's something greater. Something she.."

Cillian cut her off. His voice was steady, serious. "Your master left you a message."

Elara froze, and Her gaze fixed on him.

"She said… she is sorry she deceived you."

The color drained from Elara's face. Her lips parted, but no words came.

Cillian continued, his tone heavy. "Compared to loyalty or ties, she cared more about her research. That was her nature."

Elara lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled, and a bitter laugh escaped her lips. "I knew it… I knew she lied to me. All those years… the formulas she called the ultimate truth, the distinctions between high and low dimensions… all of it was a lie."

Her voice cracked with a mix of pain and fury. "She always told me that if I mastered the laws of high and low dimensions, I could help her. That I could finish her work. But it was nothing but a distraction."

She clenched her fists, then let them fall limp against her desk.

"Principal," Cillian asked quietly, "who was your master?"

He had never known her identity. Not her true name, not her face. Only fragments. The world itself seemed to conspire to erase her existence.

Elara picked up a worn book from her desk and slid it across to him. A faint smile tugged at her lips, fragile and bitter.

"She was a lunatic," Elara whispered. "But also a genius."

Cillian opened the book. Its title was simple but weighty:

"The Perfect Theory of the Thirteen Divine Worlds."

Author: Moira.

"She designed countless divine worlds," Elara said, her voice steadier now. "She shaped the angels of Mount Heaven. She constructed the assessment world. She rewrote rules across divine realms, the orbits of the Star Gods, the currents of the Styx in the Realm of Death, and more. Her brilliance was unmatched."

Elara's eyes dimmed. "And yet, before she vanished, she went mad."

Her voice dropped into a whisper, heavy and dark.

"She believed invisible hands loomed above us, controlling everything. Even the Sequence God Himself. All of us… pawns of fate."

The words sent a shiver through Cillian.

"She left behind this school as her last legacy," Elara continued, "but her heresy enraged too many. After she disappeared, everything about her was erased. Her name, her works, her creations all gone. All that remains is this place, this shadow of her."

She looked at him with pain in her eyes. "She vanished while exploring the Mist Realm. Never returned."

Cillian's pulse quickened. The Mist Realm?

But Moira's memory fragments in his mind spoke differently. According to them, she had hidden her research and treasures in the Chaos Dead Sea, a place far removed from the Mist Realm.

Two differ locations and two different truths. Something didn't add up.

Before he could chase the thought further, Elara waved her hand weakly.

"That's enough. I've heard her message. You may go now, Cillian." She covered her face with one hand, her voice trembling. "…And thank you."

⸻———x——————

Present

Cillian opened his eyes, the weight of the memory heavy on his shoulders.

"This Moira…" He let out a long sigh. "Just her mysteries alone are enough to drive me mad. And her research… gods, her research…"

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling of his dormitory. Beyond the noise of students outside, his gaze drifted to the certificate resting on his desk. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"No matter. I've already chosen my path. To uncover the formula of the infinite world, I'll gather the pieces, one by one."

He rose to his feet.

"There are still too many secrets buried in this world. And my destiny… is mine to unravel."

The Endless Abyss stirred again, pulsing with anticipation.

Cillian left the dormitory.

The halls were nearly empty, the silence only broken by faint footsteps from stragglers. Outside, however, the university was alive with sound. Crowds of students streamed toward the great square of Grimstone, where the final graduation ceremony was underway.

In the square, Vice Principal Warren stood on the platform, giving the last speech of the day. His voice carried with unusual energy. For once, the man seemed genuinely pleased. The projects completed this term had exceeded all previous records, and just yesterday, Principal Elara Everhart herself had spoken with him.

For years, she had been consumed by her obsession with low-dimensional research, locking herself away in isolation. But now, she had finally set that aside, turning her gaze once more to the school. She had even promised to allocate new resources, to build an entirely fresh assessment world for future students. A divine realm designed by Elara herself, greater and harsher than the one that had come before.

"Dear students…" Warren's voice rose over the heads of the graduates. His speech dragged on, heavy with platitudes and endless advice for the life ahead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a lone figure striding past the square,

Cillian.

Warren's words faltered for a heartbeat, but he recovered quickly. Still, as Cillian turned at the edge of the square, their eyes met. Cillian gave the faintest of nods. Warren returned it in silence.

"…And so," Warren declared, his voice firm, "we will reopen the world invasion simulations in the second academic year, rebuilding that powerful assessment world as your ultimate trial. Some may ask, why set such a difficult, almost impossible challenge as the final test? The answer is simple…"

He quoted the very words Cillian had once spoken to him.

"…Because the mountain is there."

Cillian stepped through the gates of Grimstone. Beyond them stretched the unknown, a new world.

No one at the university knew where he went after that day. His name slipped into obscurity, erased by the long years of busy lives. He became a ghost, the first who had beaten the fourth assessment.

Until years later, when the event he himself unleashed shook the world, and his name returned to every tongue.

⸻———x——————

A Few Months Later

In the shrouded Mist Region, within a secret realm no outsider had ever breached, chaos erupted.

"Monsters! The end itself is upon us!"

A legendary alien warrior stumbled through the palace gates, terror written across his face. His armored boots cracked the jewel-inlaid doors as he rushed into the throne room. In any other moment, such recklessness would have been punished. But today no one dared.

Fear had consumed the palace. Whispers of despair passed through the halls, even the strongest could not hide the trembling in their voices as they looked toward the sky.

Above the horizon, a black-and-red vortex churned, vast, its reflection swallowing the heavens.

The warrior dropped to one knee before the throne. "Your Majesty! The twisted horrors are upon us. We beg you, flee!"

On the golden throne sat their king. His shoulders sagged beneath an invisible weight. For days he had not slept, and his silence was darker than any storm.

"Your Majesty," the warrior pressed, his voice breaking, "the three legions at the front have been annihilated. All that stands between us and extinction is this palace."

Their world had weathered many invasions before. Outsiders had come and gone, always repelled by the world's might. But this time was different.

These were no ordinary enemies.

As the warrior spoke, a sudden, wet cough echoed through the hall.

The king doubled over, blood spraying from his lips , thick and black as tar.

"Your Majesty!"

The warrior rushed forward, only to recoil at the stench. His senses screamed, poison.

He turned sharply, eyes narrowing on the shadowed corner of the hall.

From the darkness, a figure stepped into the light — the king's eldest son. The prince's lips curved into a smile that was no longer human. Horns, had sprouted from above his brow, and his eyes glowed with the same scarlet madness as the creatures outside.

"It's you…" The warrior's voice trembled with fury.

"Why…"

The prince chuckled. "Why? No reason. I simply performed a ritual, and the great will of that world answered. It gave me a promise."

Greed and lunacy burned in his gaze.

"What promise?" the warrior demanded, already bracing to strike. As a legend, he could break the boy's neck in an instant.

The prince walked leisurely toward the throne. His smile widened. "That I would be king. That I would rule this decaying kingdom when the old order crumbled."

The warrior let out a hollow laugh. "You're insane! When our world is consumed, what kingdom will remain for you to rule? Who will kneel to a traitor?"

The prince lifted a hand, pointing toward the shattered palace gates. His smile turned cruel.

"They will."

A thunderous crash shook the hall as the gates exploded inward. Dust and light poured through the opening.

The warrior's eyes widened in horror. A host of corrupted figures marched inside, once-loyal soldiers now warped with horns, scales, and monstrous features. Their weapons gleamed with malice, their steps echoing like drums of doom.

And behind them, Original demons poured forth, each radiating a suffocating power.

The warrior's grip tightened on his blade.

But above them all, high in the vortex, eyes hidden in the swirling dark peered down.

The secret realm would soon be consumed. Everything within it would be devoured, twisted, and dragged screaming into the abyss.

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