The ancient gate opened slowly.
There was no blinding light.
No surge of overwhelming spiritual pressure.
Only darkness.
Not the darkness of night, but one untouched by the passage of time. It swallowed sound, light, and even the sense of distance, as though the world beyond the gate existed outside creation itself.
No one moved.
The disciples stood frozen, every instinct screaming at them not to take another step. Even the First Elder, whose will had remained unshaken through countless life-and-death battles, felt his heart grow heavy.
The hooded figure spoke without looking at anyone.
"Only the one who answered may enter."
The words settled over the plain.
Several elders stepped forward instinctively.
"We cannot allow him to go alone," one protested.
The hooded figure slowly turned its head.
"You misunderstand."
Its voice remained calm.
"This is not my rule."
"It is his."
The figure lifted one hand toward the open gate.
"The First Keeper accepts only those he chooses to meet."
Silence followed.
No one questioned it again.
The First Elder walked to Zarek's side.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally, he placed a hand on Zarek's shoulder.
"I have taught many disciples."
"My greatest lesson was believing I could prepare them for everything."
He gave a faint smile.
"I was wrong."
His hand fell away.
"There are roads no master can walk for his disciple."
Zarek inclined his head.
"I'll return."
The First Elder looked into his eyes.
"I know."
Without another word, Zarek stepped through the gate.
The darkness swallowed him.
Behind him...
The gate closed.
Not with a sound.
But with certainty.
The disciples rushed forward.
The stone surface no longer contained a doorway.
It was as though Zarek had never entered at all.
Inside...
There was no ground.
No sky.
No horizon.
Only an endless sea of drifting stars suspended within absolute darkness.
Each star pulsed gently.
Each carried a different rhythm.
As if every one represented a heartbeat.
Or perhaps...
A life.
Zarek took a step.
Ripples spread beneath his feet.
Only then did he realize he wasn't standing on stone.
He was walking across a perfectly still mirror.
Every ripple reflected countless unfamiliar faces.
Some were old.
Some young.
Some human.
Others...
Not.
The ancient voice finally returned.
"Do not look into the reflections for too long."
Zarek continued walking.
"Why?"
"Because they will begin looking back."
He did not ask another question.
He had learned that every warning carried meaning.
Far ahead...
A lone figure sat beneath a dead tree.
The tree had no leaves.
No branches.
Only a single black trunk reaching into the endless darkness.
The old man beneath it wore plain gray robes.
His hair was white.
His eyes were closed.
Across his knees rested an ordinary wooden sword.
Nothing about him suggested power.
Nothing about him suggested danger.
Yet Zarek stopped walking.
Every instinct told him the same thing.
This old man...
Was more terrifying than the Absolute Entity.
Without opening his eyes, the old man spoke.
"You came."
His voice carried neither warmth nor hostility.
It was simply... timeless.
Zarek answered calmly.
"You were expecting me."
The old man smiled faintly.
"I have been waiting longer than you can imagine."
He finally opened his eyes.
They were completely ordinary.
Yet within them...
Zarek saw stars being born.
Worlds collapsing.
Ages passing like drifting leaves.
The old man studied him in silence.
Then he asked,
"Tell me, Zarek."
"Why did you devour your first enemy?"
The question caught him off guard.
Not because it was difficult.
Because it was so simple.
The old man rested both hands upon the wooden sword.
"The Hall tested your philosophy."
"I..."
"...will test your heart."