Chapter 12: Truth And Return Home

Chapter 12: Truth And Return Home

Lucen stood in the center of the summoning chamber, the air dense with an otherworldly chill. The system's interface flickered in front of him—a shimmering web of runes and data streams. He took a measured breath and addressed it directly, his voice crisp and resolute.

"System," Lucen said, his tone clipped and businesslike, "explain the meaning of this directive: 'If I have to bring an alive person, that person must be deceased in the original timeline.' What exactly is this world I'm standing in? A copy? Or something else entirely?"

The system pulsed, a low hum filling the chamber as it processed his inquiry. Moments later, it responded in a voice both clinical and laden with authority.

"This world, is a product of your summoning ability. It is not merely a facsimile—it is a precise reconstruction of the past, meticulously assembled from the residual echoes of history. Every element you perceive here is an accurate simulation of events that have already occurred in the original timeline."

Lucen narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the swirling data as he absorbed the system's words.

"So I'm effectively standing in the past?" he asked.

"Affirmative," the system replied. "However, your current rank constrains your access. At your present level, you can only observe the general contours of these events. Once your summoning rank elevates, you will gain the capacity to perform comprehensive audits of individual lives and decisions—granular analyses that will allow you to unlock actionable intelligence."

Lucen considered this, his brow furrowing in thought.

"And the person I'm seeking to bring back… she was supposed to die in the original timeline?"

"Correct," the system confirmed, . "The individual you intend to summon perished alongside her mother in a catastrophic fire. Because of this predetermined fate, she qualifies for summoning—unbound by the continuity of the living."

"But if this is merely a simulation," Lucen pressed, his voice sharpening with an undercurrent of calculated urgency, "why do my actions here matter? Are there tangible repercussions in the original timeline?"

A pause. Then the system's response, weighted with the gravity of immutable truth:

"Understand this,: though this world is a construct, your decisions within it are not inconsequential. Every action you undertake here will reverberate in the original timeline, rewriting the narrative of that world in real time."

Lucen's breath caught. His mind raced with the implications—a simulation, yet with the authority to sculpt the true course of history. A paradox, yet a potent one.

"So Diana de Lucen," he murmured, his thoughts coalescing. "Her story—how does it play out in the original timeline, should I choose to summon her?"

"If you proceed," the system stated, its voice adopting the measured cadence of a corporate report, "the chronicles of Diana de Lucen will record this: Following her mother's death, Diana vanished without a trace, absent from history for fifty years."

The system's tone grew more precise, data flowing like an executive briefing.

"During that same year, a beverage of mysterious origin will capture the popular imagination—an enigmatic drink whose creator will proclaim it a divine inspiration, gifted in a dream by a deity known only as 'the woodchopper family.' This family, hitherto obscure, will ascend to preeminence, becoming the wealthiest in Urin within a decade. They will forge strategic alliances that redefine the economic equilibrium, consolidating wealth and power with an efficacy that reshapes the commercial landscape."

Lucen's eyes glittered with a mixture of ambition and unease. The stakes were clear: this was no mere summoning.

He sat in measured silence, fully absorbing the system's briefing. This world before him—this temporal replica—was not a mere simulation. It was a derivative of his summoning ability: a reconstructed fragment from a past timeline, where causality had already been established.

He leaned forward, voice low and calculated. "If I leave her here, what are the consequences for Diana?"

The system responded with its trademark precision and detachment. "Diana de Lucen is an anomaly. She defies the predetermined flow of fate by aligning her actions with yours. Abandonment in this false timeline will result in her erasure. She is the sole entity within this framework eligible for extraction and salvation."

Lucen's mind ran a cost-benefit analysis. The stakes were monumental. To intervene risked temporal contamination; to ignore meant erasing a person from existence—an ethical and operational failure.

"Understood," Lucen said, masking his internal conflict with corporate pragmatism. "I require confirmation of Diana's intent before transfer. Extraction without explicit consent violates operational protocols."

With decisive intent, Lucen approached the bath chamber. The steam swirled gently around Diana, who lay immersed, vulnerable yet composed. He paused, maintaining professional distance.

"Diana," he began carefully, "there are developments you must understand." He refrained from disclosing his reincarnation, instead briefing her on the tower, his summoning rank, and the circumstances of her scheduled demise in the original timeline.

"If you do not consent to depart with me, you may remain here. The choice is yours."

Diana emerged, water cascading over her form, still unaware of her modest attire. She moved swiftly, embracing Lucen with urgency.

"Don't leave me," she murmured with unguarded sincerity. "You are my heart. Without you, this body has no meaning. Take me with you."

Lucen's carefully constructed composure faltered—this was his inaugural physical contact with another human. His mind blanked.

"Alright," he said, voice steady but surprised. "Cover yourself first."

Flushing, Diana retreated, the room echoing with her startled laughter.

In that moment, Lucen recalibrated his mission parameters. Diana was no mere child; she was an autonomous agent, deserving protection and respect.

"System," he whispered, "I acknowledge the designation: Diana de Lucen. She shall be regarded as my sister, henceforth."

Once Diana reassembled, they prepared for departure. Together, they stepped into the portal conjured by the system, swallowed by the void of black space.

Suddenly, the system's voice resonated:

"Alert: Player has extracted a living entity from a false timeline. Register subordinate status for Diana de Lucen. Non-subordinates are prohibited from accompanying players and are subject to erasure. This protocol ensures protection of player integrity and timeline stability."

Lucen's brow furrowed with pragmatic concern.

"What is the procedure for registration?"

"System requires a DNA bonding ritual involving the consumption of the subordinate's blood to establish a permanent contract."

Lucen's expression hardened.

"Just like with Luna," he muttered, recalling the severity of that bond.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" he asked.

"Consent is mandatory. The subordinate must willingly offer a blood sample for ingestion to initiate the contract."

Lucen's jaw tightened.

"This is a serious liability. It's not something to take lightly."

Unbeknownst to him, Diana had absorbed every word. Upon arrival in this liminal space, a semi-transparent interface had appeared before her, bearing the message: Welcome back.

Caught off-guard, Diana processed the system's presence slowly. Her gaze then fell upon Lucen—not as the adult she remembered, but a five-year-old version, smaller yet undeniably regal in bearing.

Her pulse quickened. Without hesitation, Diana extended her wrist, offering a small prick of blood.

Lucen gently took it, the scarlet liquid sealing the bond as he consumed it.

System: "Diana de Lucen confirmed as subordinate to Lucen de Vermithorn. Commencing dimensional shift."

Lucen returned to his world but did not gain any experience points for leveling up. However, he discovered something unusual—his system seemed to a problem. Initially, it was inclined to things, but now it speaks in a manner resembling a human.

And he forgot the most important: Diana was in his room now, and Lucen Shadow was also present.