Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

The trial area that tested the comprehension of the concept of space did not disappear even after the trial had ended. It remained suspended within the secret domain, glowing faintly with layers of silver light that shimmered like ripples across a still lake.

However, once a genius had participated in the trial, they were permanently barred from attempting it again. The law of the realm forbade repetition, as if it recognized the journey of comprehension as a one-time path that could not be retraced.

Even so, the area was far from useless to those who had already completed their trial. Within the remnants of spatial distortion and order, an unusual calm energy persisted. It was perfect for meditation and reflection, allowing participants to consolidate the comprehension they had gained during their breakthrough.

The field was quiet now, filled only with faint vibrations of space that pulsed like the heartbeat of a living world.

Dozens of floating platforms hung in the sky above the stabilized void. Upon each platform sat a genius in silent meditation. Their bodies glowed faintly with their respective energies, their consciousness diving deep into the laws of space. The distortions around them were gentle now, swirling in rhythm with their breathing.

On the highest platform, Max sat cross-legged with his eyes closed. His body was enveloped in a faint violet light that reflected the mastery he had recently achieved. Around him, the air was completely still—no wind, no distortion, no vibration. Space itself refused to move near him. Every inch of existence seemed to bow before his presence.

A short distance away, Nero sat in the same position. His expression was composed, though the faint furrow in his brow betrayed the effort he was putting into stabilizing his comprehension. His cube domain, now shrunken to a small structure before him, rotated slowly, maintaining a delicate balance between order and motion.

The other geniuses, though far less stable, were also immersed in the same pursuit. The faint hum of spatial energy resonated across the trial field, weaving into an unseen harmony that bound them all together.

Max remained silent, his consciousness fully submerged within himself. Inside his mind, he retraced every step of his comprehension. His thoughts flowed like a river, calm and deliberate, as he revisited the path that had brought him here.

'The first level… Spatial Severance,' he thought quietly. The memory of his early comprehension surfaced in his mind. It was the foundation of all spatial arts—the ability to cut through space itself. Severance was sharp, absolute, and destructive, embodying the simplest yet most lethal aspect of spatial control.

'The second level… Spatial Anchoring.' His thoughts deepened further. That was the level where stability began. Anchoring was about control, not destruction. It allowed space to remain steady under pressure, to resist collapse, to hold its shape even under the strain of other energies. It was a power of creation through resistance, a concept that required unshakable focus.

'The third level… Spatial Distortion.' His mind flowed onward, reliving the moment of realization. Distortion was the first step toward freedom. It bent the rules of existence without breaking them. It was manipulation, flexibility, and adaptation—the power to twist reality itself to one's will.

That was when he first began to perceive the true nature of space, not as an empty void but as a living structure that could be reshaped.

Finally, his focus reached the present. 'The fourth level… Spatial Collapse.' His breathing slowed as the concept unfolded within him once more. Collapse was the ultimate cycle—the death and rebirth of space. It was not about destruction, but balance. To collapse space was to understand its essence, to bring it back to its origin and rebuild it stronger than before.

Max opened his eyes slowly. The violet light around him deepened as the air vibrated softly in response. "Space is alive," he whispered to himself, his voice calm but filled with reverence. "It is not a void. It's a living structure of existence itself."

He raised his right hand slightly, and the air around his fingers shimmered faintly. The layers of space folded into one another like silk. The ripple spread outward but instead of creating chaos, it formed a perfect ring of stability.

All around him, the geniuses continued to meditate, unaware that the fluctuations in space were no longer from the trial, but from Max himself. The air grew thicker with calm energy, and even Nero opened one eye, glancing toward him before closing it again, realizing that Max's comprehension was still evolving.

Max's gaze softened as he turned inward once more. He could feel how close he was to touching the deeper laws hidden within the fabric of reality. Each concept he had mastered was not a separate entity but part of a greater truth waiting to be revealed.

As he sank back into meditation, the entire trial field pulsed faintly with light, as though the domain itself acknowledged his understanding.

Max had sat in silence for an entire day. The sun within the secret domain had risen and set once, casting faint violet rays over the field of suspended platforms.

Around him, space itself was perfectly calm, as though even the laws of the world respected his stillness. His breathing was steady, his body unmoving, his mind lost deep in the boundless flow of comprehension.

When dawn finally arrived again, a faint light swept across the trial area, illuminating the silver platforms one by one. The other geniuses were still meditating, lost in their attempts to stabilize their understanding, but Max slowly opened his eyes. A faint shimmer of violet light flashed through them before fading away completely.

"I have consolidated my fourth level concept of space fully," Max said quietly, his voice calm and even. "Now, it's time to see the reward I got from achieving the Aether Rank in the trial."

He raised his right hand slowly, and a faint glimmer of light emerged from his palm. It was the reward he had received after the trial had ended—a small black cube, no larger than his thumb, floating gently above his hand.

The cube looked ordinary at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the surface seemed to ripple like liquid shadow. Within it were countless microscopic patterns that changed with every blink of an eye, shifting between infinite shapes.