Magic School Loop

Evening: Club: The Librarians (Forgotten Gun Dimensions & Vaults)

Thankfully they were not once again put through the brutal, scarring training like before as they were once again back to handle menial tasks at the library. Which seemed to be a welcome to everyone including him.

Joshua found himself relieved to return to the endless hush of dust, wisdom, and potential. The club's deeper stacks still thrummed with strange light—some from memory lanterns, others from bound sentience.

Today Miss Quill seemed to want him to learn more about different gun dimensions, worlds, hidden vaults, and such.

The Epitaph Vault

Type: Tomb-Realm of Lost Gunslingers
Theme: You walk among legends long gone; their weapons await the next wielder

Items Found: Epitaph Rounds(name-carved bullets), Memory Revolvers, Legacy Shotguns

The Gallery of Misfires

Type: Cursed Armory

Theme:

Every gun here failed its wielder. Or did it?

Echoes:

Ricochet Kings, Curse-Laced Revolvers, Redemption Repeaters

Vault of the Gunwright God

Theme:

Invention / Crafting / Modding

Concept:

A god-machine where every gun ever made is still being made. An endless conveyor of prototypes and failures.

Echoes:

Modular Weapon Frames, Living Ammo Cores, Spell-Gun Blueprints.

The Howling Forge

Type

: Eternal battlefield turned foundry

Echoes

: Soulbound muskets, rage-fueled shotcannons, forgeborn handguns

The Iron Vow Bastion

Type

: Military Archive Dimension

Theme

: Guns tied to oaths, legacy, and soul-pacts

Echoes

: Vow-Forged Pistols, Oathlock Revolvers, Blood-Sworn Casings

The Longshot Expanse

Type: Cosmic Shooting Gallery
Theme: Precision duels across star-systems and forgotten moons
Echoes: Gravity-anchored Sniper Sigils, Void-Needle Rifles, Reality-Adjusting Pistols

Cartographer's Atlas Barrel

Type: Explorers' Vault
Theme: Maps hidden in guns; bullets that mark pathways instead of kill
Echoes: Gate-Trigger Pistols, Map-Inscribed Rifles, Compass Revolvers

Dimenshot Wastes

Type: Broken Multiverse Fragment
Theme: A shattered gun-dimension now full of broken ideas, paradox weaponry, and half-real ballistics.

Echoes: Reality-Piercing Shots, Nullfire Rifles, Memory-Only Shotguns

The Sundown Loop

Type: Temporal stasis world
Echoes: Chrono-revolvers, loop-forged sidearms, causality-break bullets
Dominant Weapon Style: Time-influencing weaponry

The Bullet Reef

Type: Deepwater mythic armory
Echoes: Coral-encrusted magnums, hydro-reactive scatter pistols, eelspine rifles
Dominant Weapon Style: Bio-magic integrated with aquatic sorcery

The Cylindrical Choir

Type: Sound-anchored vaultworld
Echoes: Revolvers that sing their own reloads, sonic-trigger firearms, auditory binding spells
Dominant Weapon Style: Acoustic rhythm-casters

As Joshua surveyed the projections, he felt the brush of old callings—his fingers itched to touch them. Each vault had a cadence. Some called in thunder. Others in whispers. But they all carried one truth: Somewhere across the multiverse, a gun was waiting to meet its wielder.

And perhaps, one day, he'd walk into one of those vaults …and walk out changed.

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Which Gun Dimensions/Vault would you like to research?

Vote for which place you want to research about and find out to get there!

The Epitaph Vault Research - Arcane Innovation Level(0/5,000)

Setting aside the books on the other vaults, Joshua decided to look into one that drew his attention. The Epitaph Vault

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/633387443575211/

The Epitaph Vault was a tomb realm which was a place of death, a graveyard of forgotten legends who once wielded some of the most powerful guns in existence.

Located in an alternate dimension within a shifting plane of existence. It stands like a cathedral of rusted steel and ancient stone, its halls echoing with the whispers of long-departed gunslingers. The guns left behind are not merely tools but part of the souls of their former owners. Each weapon carries a piece of their legacy, a memory, or perhaps a curse.

Visitors to the realm experience surreal phenomena—images of the gunslingers' final moments, battles frozen in time, and the painful realization that the weapons are waiting for someone worthy to wield them once more.

Delve into more detailed accounts of the realm it mentioned that the Vault was originally created to house the weapons of those who transcended death in pursuit of endless battle. Others hint that the Vault was crafted by a guild of celestial gunsmiths, each with a unique magical design for their creations.

Investigate the phenomenon of the rifts that tie the Epitaph Vault to the real world. The Vault exists on a plane that shifts through time and space, occasionally opening up in areas with high concentrations of magic. Research notes indicate that a special Dimensional Key is required to enter, though its exact nature is still unclear.

Some texts reveal that those with the bloodline of legendary gunslingers can unlock the path to the Tomb. However, clues suggest that certain magical rituals can empower individuals to inherit these bloodlines, at least temporarily. This might be the key to finding a way into the tomb — if Joshua can trace his own magical lineage and find connections to these fabled bloodlines that might offer a breakthrough.

Roll 1d8(talent) +3(library)+ 1(day)

Epitaph Vault Research(12/5,000)

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Day 4 – Ferradine (+1 Runes, Crafting, Mechanics)

Morning: Arcane Gunsmithing (Workshop – Imbuing Runes)

Instructor Elra Vintock — the squat, broad-shouldered dwarven engineer wore her usual soot-streaked apron, with scorch marks that looked like they told war stories of their own.

"Today," she barked, slamming a glowing schematic onto the table, "you carve your damn name into your gun—but not in letters. In essence. In rune."

The assignment was deceptively simple: choose a rune, carve it, bind it. This wasn't mere personalization. It was magical fingerprinting. The rune you chose would shape your fire, your intent, your combat language.

Joshua studied the rune charts glowing above his workstation. Dozens of symbols hovered—twisting shapes with meanings like Velocity, Rupture, Silence, Ricochet, Blood-Tuned…

But he reached toward something steadier. Endurance. Resonance. Together, they formed a hybrid glyph that pulsed like a heartbeat. Good Reinforcement-style rune—built not for flash, but for grit. For weathering pressure, and striking back harder.

Once selected, Elra led them through the forging process.

First came the mana-reactive chisel—a precision tool that responded to a user's magical field. Each cut into the spell-forged plate sparked faintly, sizzling as ambient aether resisted the etching. The glyph took shape slowly: part geometric, part intuitive. Joshua's arm trembled only once. The chisel corrected him with a bite of heat.

Then came the Alkahest Steam Bath—a bubbling trough that hissed with violet mist, laced with trace elements of philosopher's salt, acidroot, and distilled alchemical shame. "This stuff shows your mistakes," Elra muttered. "And your cowardice."

As Joshua dipped the plate in, the rune lit up along one edge, pulsing red. A fracture. Too shallow. He reworked it, breathing slower, syncing his pulse with the glyph's heartbeat.

Finally, the last step: Infusion. He pressed both hands to the metal. Eyes shut. Letting the memory of every time he stood his ground rise to the surface—moments of refusal, of resistance, of holding on when it made no sense.

Magic flowed into the rune. It drank him in. And then it glowed—not with brightness, but with density. It felt heavier. Realer.

Elra grunted as she passed. "Ain't pretty," she said. "But it'll hold. That's what matters."

Joshua looked down at the plate. The rune shimmered faintly, synced to the rhythm of his breathing. A piece of himself, carved in steel. Today, he hadn't just built something. He'd bound it.

Roll for Minor Item(Rune)[1d8(Talent) +1 Day Bonus + 1 Instructor Bonus +1 Relationship Bonus +1 hammer-nail Bonus]

Rolled 6.

Failed

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Afternoon: Magical Ballistics (Workshop – Effect Zones)

Instructor Liora Fenwick, high-elf of sharp lines and sharper detonations, tapped her chalk-dusted gloves against the spellboard. "Magic wants to spread," she said, voice sharp as chalk on slate. "Your job today? Tell it how."

The spellboard behind her flickered with outlines—cones, spheres, arcs, and less natural geometries: interlocking rings, spirals, even a Möbius loop of fire. "Craft 2 types of bullets," she commanded. "Each must demonstrate a different effect zone. You will forge the casing. Imprint the zone. Then fire and measure results."

Spherical Pulse Round — "Crashing Echo"
For the first round, he chose a sphere casing and etched equidistant anchoring runes across its surface to distribute force equally. Into the heart, he dropped a mana resonance bead, then poured in liquid ley-amber to amplify detonation. Joshua added a Resonance Fold, a signature of his Reinforcement magic, to cause the pulse to double-back in concentric waves. Ideal for crowd suppression.

Effect Zone: Radius (Echo Sphere) – Expanding ripple with reinforced backlash.

Spiralburst Round — "Viper's Helix"
His second round was experimental. He carved a twisting glyph path, not linear but spiraling outward, to make the explosion rotate as it expanded. Into the core, he inserted a delay crystal, creating a two-phase blast: impact, then coiling surge. The Reinforcement glyph here was subtle—imbued in the pattern's center, keeping the spiral stable under pressure.

Effect Zone: Spiral – Delayed blast, rotating arc of destruction.

Roll for Minor Item(Rune)[1d8(Talent) +1 Day Bonus + 1 Instructor Bonus +2 Relationship Bonus]

Rolled 10.

Success

3x Crashing Echo Ammo

3x Viper's Helix Ammo

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Evening: Grand Library Research (Topic: Reinforcement Magic) Trace the Magical Lineage of Your Reinforcement Magic (Discover ancestral spell style or bloodline secret)

Location: The Vaulted Athenaeum, Lower Reliquary. a sky-high spire of stained glass and floating staircases.

Objective: Trace the magical ancestry of his Reinforcement Magic—where it came from, how it evolved, and what secrets it holds.

The Grand Library didn't sleep—it shifted, quietly rearranging its halls as if dreaming in parchment. Joshua's footsteps echoed as he entered the Lower Reliquary of the Vaulted Athenaeum, badge glowing dimly to authorize access to the deeper stacks. Here, the air was heavy with knowledge, and the shelves were arranged like cathedrals. Once again, he was thankful to have joined the Librarians as he had unlimited access to most sections of the library and could view much more restricted knowledge.

Joshua submits a blood-marked query to the Genealogic Codex Array, a shimmering lattice of glyphs suspended above the Archive Wells. He's led to a private reading chamber where a book writes itself in real-time, drawing from spells, ancestors, and metaphysical echoes.

Looking at the book before him, he opened it and began to read. At the root of his magic — where generations of soldiers, outlaws, and survivors—Joshua discovered something older.

Brought to the forefront was a forgotten ancient martial order who were made up of warcasters who augment their minds and bodies without external catalysts. Their core principle: "The world strengthens that which strengthens itself." They used no fancy spells, only stubborn will, binding reinforcement to breath, heartbeat, and grit. One of their prized spells was: Pulseframe — a spell that synchronizes reinforcement surges with motion, allowing brief moments of superhuman acceleration, precision, or impact.

This was just the start of the long history of his Reinforcement Magic and he was off to a great start uncovering a mysterious order and learning a new potential spell.

Roll for Magic(Affinity)[1d4(Magic) + 3 Library + 2 Bracer]

Rolled 8

Reinforcement Magic 0-✩: 66/100

Roll for Research(Magic Evolution)[1d8(Talent) + 3 Library + 2 Bracer]

Rolled 12

Magic Upgrade Research Progress (5/1,000)

Potential Spell Unlocked Pulseframe! Grants superhuman acceleration, precision, or impact. Which builds up over time making you faster and more deadly.

+2 to movement, dodging, and reflects. Increases with more prolonged use.

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Day 5 – Veilmere (+1 Planar & Spiritwork)

Morning: Arcane Gunsmithing (Practicals – Design & Testing)

Elra Vintock, the battlefield dwarf-engineer whose coat was stitched from spell-canvas and burn marks. Her voice barked like a revolver shot: "You don't learn by watching. You learn by risking."

Today's task was open-ended—but dangerous: "Design a piece of your firearm from scratch. Something personal. They won't be crafting, just making a blueprint

Joshua stood before his bench in the forge-lab. Mana-sparks leapt from exposed conduits. Arcane furnaces pulsed with heat and stored intention. Around him, students grunted, panicked, or scribbled schematics.

He already knew what he wanted. Getting to work he drew a modular component designed to resonate with his Reinforcement magic—amplifying acceleration and impact the longer he kept up sustained movement or firing. Built from folded ferro-aetherite coils and rune-tempered steel, it channeled kinetic buildup through vented rune grooves.

+1 Skill Progress: Arcane Gunsmithing 1(2/3): +1 Bonus to crafting, fixing and modifying guns

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Afternoon: Guncaster Fundamentals (Range Practice)

Cassian Varn, the Oni bounty hunter turned teacher, stood beneath the blistering sun of the outdoor range.

"The gun don't lie. The gun don't hesitate. You either know what you are, or the chamber decides for you."

The students were split into fire-teams and cycled through range challenges: Moving platforms, arcane interference zones, and more challenges.

Every time he moved, his body grew more in sync with his weapon. Every dodge became a blur. Every shot grew tighter. Every reload felt timed to a metronome only he could hear.

Halfway through, Cassian activated a multiversal ghost simulation—a dueling target patterned after an infamous planar gunslinger. Joshua squared off. He moved with increasing speed, chaining maneuvers and shots. His bullets echoed into formation, almost forming a rhythm—a kind of ballistic dance.

He didn't win by force. He won by tempo. By not letting up.

Learned new Skill! Magical Marksmanship

+1 Skill Progress: Magical Marksmanship 1(0/3): +1 Bonus to accuracy when firing firearms

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Evening: Contract with Lesser Entity(Vote on who)

Entities are beings from beyond the mundane world—spirits, outsiders, and magical intelligences that dwell in realms overlapping or hidden from normal reality. They are not just familiars, pets, or tools. They are willing (or bartered) allies—some ancient, some newborn, all deeply tied to specific forces, places, or groups.

When a mage forms a contract, they do not summon a servant—they negotiate with a presence, forging a magical and spiritual pact with consequences. The bond can grant power, companionship, insight, or transformation—but it always comes with risk, responsibility, and ripple effects.

For any practitioner it is part and parcel to deal with, summon, bargain, or bind beings from beyond the veil. That's why another name for magic users are pactmakers, they could give devils and fae a run for their money!

At the Academy of Magic is an honorbound tradition of calling forth any entity you wish and bending them to your will. It's a rite of passage for any young practitioner to command and learn the True Name of a few entities.

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Entity Traits: Entities

has the following aspects

Type

– What kind of being they are and where they come from

Rarity

– How common or legendary they are

Rank

– Their level of development and power

Nature

– Their temperament, personality, or motive

Contract Style

– How they bind (mark, oath, item, symbiosis, haunting, etc.)

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What Contracts Mean:

a magically binding ritual where a mage and an entity enter a pact. The terms may be clear—or buried in mystery. They can be based on:

Exchange

– Power for offerings, service, knowledge, wealth.

Oath

– Mutual purpose. Protection, vengeance, exploration, etc.

Mark

– The entity brands the mage with a symbol or curse that channels its power.

Merge

– The entity bonds within a weapon, item, or even the mage's soul or magic itself.

Possession

– Temporarily or symbiotically sharing the body or senses.

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Entity Type: What is it that you will call forth? Roll 1d6+1(day bonus)

Spirit – Emotion, memory, or dreams made sentient. May whisper forgotten truths or be long lost loved ones.

Infernal – Devils, fiends, or corrupt envoys. Powerful deals, steep prices. Expect claws and contracts.

Celestial – Winged arbiters of law, mercy, or radiance. Be it Angels, Devas, or Empyrean they are judgmental but potent allies of purpose.

Fae – Sidhe tricksters, nature spirits, riddling monarchs. Equal parts charm and chaos.

Elemental – Embodiments of Ice, Wind, Lightning, or stranger aspects like magma, steam, or crystal.

Cosmic – Voidwalkers, starborn creatures, gravitational anomalies. Speak in alien thoughts and tilt time and space.

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Entity Rarity: Uniqueness and potential of the entity. Roll 1d6+1(day bonus)

Common

– Training-grade. Predictable and safe.

Uncommon

– Possess a unique trick or affinity.

Special

– Marked by mutation, old bond, or spell-warped evolution.

Unique

– Singular in this generation. One existence, one contract.

Rare

– Near-forgotten. Bound to deep lore or sealed zones.

Epic

– Forces of nature and narrative. They alter space and mood by being present.

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Entity Rank: Strength and development stage of the entity. Roll 1d6+1(day bonus)

Realm 1

Tier 1 Neophyte – Just formed or recently awakened. Learning its powers.

Tier 2 Apprentice – Holds a stable form. Capable of combat or support.

Tier 3 Acolyte – Can act independently. With signature skills or spells.

Realm 2

Tier 4 Journeyman – Powerful, feared. Can affect battlefields or rituals alone.

Tier 5 Adept – A recognized power in its realm.

Tier 6 Expert – Has followers, domains, or avatars.

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We will be summoning a Rare Elemental Entity at the Tier 6, Expert Level in Realm 2.

What sort of contract do you want to make with it? Merge it into a weapon, make an oath with it, do an exchange, etc…

Also what sort of entity did you wish to summon? A rare entity gets 5 powers! As a tier 6 entity they also grant 6 benefits to you i.e. followers, resources, knowledge, etc…

Example: Xarathos, The Reality-Shatter(Elemental of Reality)

Based on Silver Surfer

Xarathos is an entity that sees through the layers of reality—their vision can shatter dimensions, perceiving both the past, present, and future. Their eyes can break reality itself, and their presence warps the world around them, revealing the true nature of things. Joshua could learn to reinforce his perception of time and space, allowing him to see through illusions, alter reality in localized areas, and gain insight into the destinies of those around him.

Powers(5)

Benefits(6)

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Example: Caelgor, The Maelstrom of Mayhem(Elemental of Chaos)

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Caelgor is an entity born from the fabric of disorder and transformation. Resembling a storm of unrelenting energy, its ever-changing, shifting between chaotic flames, turbulent clouds, and void-like shadows. This entity is neither malevolent nor benevolent but a pure force of nature that embodies entropy, unpredictability, and constant change.

Caelgor's power is not something that can be controlled or easily predicted. It is a force that shapes events, turns tides of battle, and creates opportunities out of chaos. Those who invoke Caelgor's influence must be prepared to embrace uncertainty, as the rewards are as unpredictable as the forces it grants.

Powers(5)

Chaotic Manifestation(Unpredictable Creation): Crafted items might possess random effects. Some that are imbued with enough chaotic energy might change form, function, and properties

Havoc Blow(Unpredictable Damage): Strikes to become unpredictable, causing unforeseen effects. Or able to double damage or halve it.

Maelstrom Surge(Power Amplification): Channel chaos into his body, increasing his physical and magical capabilities unpredictably during battle. The more you draw upon this the more side effects it can lead to.

Pandemonium(Area-of-Effect): Become chaos incarnate and change the environment all around you. Who knows what you will do, bring a random hailstorm or earthquake, make a building collapse, or summon something horrifying.

Chaos's Gambit(Last Ditch): Ability to create a moment of uncertainty where anything can happen. In the heat of battle or during critical decision-making moments, Joshua can invoke Chaos's Gambit, making him unpredictable to enemies and granting him the advantage at a key moment.

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Benefits(6)

Chaos Agent: Joshua is now a force of change. Wherever he goes, he leaves behind a trail of chaos, whether it's a social upheaval, a new conflict, spur random rebellion, or even affecting the timelines in unexpected ways.

Harbingers of the Unseen(Future Sight): Can get visions of ill omens or even good things. You will get vague glimpses of future events helping you along your journey.

Shifting Fortune(Luck): Chaos favors you in unexpected ways. Sometimes Joshua will find unexpected resources, alliances, or opportunities when he needs them most.

Chaos Vaults(Random Loot): The chaos realms offers its apostles gifts! Run into random items, resources, or treasures in the real world.

Fractured realms of chaos: Peer into Chaos and unveil cryptic knowledge, hidden secrets, find lost paths, or gain wild inspirations. Don't go mad!

Mark of Isfet(???): Unknown mark.

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Tower of Heaven

There are structures raised by stone and hand—and then there are structures whispered into being by reality itself around a singular truth too potent to remain unbuilt. At the farthest edge of the Academy beyond even some of the oldest quadrants—past the Writ of Names where great mages' names were carved, the Hall of Mirrors, and through gates sealed with soulthread and living flame—rises a place known not by direction, but invocation. Students speak of it in caution, reverence, and dreams. Lies the Tower of Heaven, a prayer cast in stone and a beacon for all outsiders. It's less a building and more a cosmic engine, half ruin, half throne, and wholly holy in its own dangerous way that resists understanding.

It is not merely built. It was summoned, by who? None know or long forgot about. But some do say the one behind it is the Academy itself who called forth this place from the aether. It is both sanctum and testing ground, sacred and perilous.

A spiraling monolith of otherworldly magnitude, the Tower was assembled by the hands of no single architect, but drawn together from the remnants of shattered dimensions, extinguished heavens, abandoned temples, forgotten wars, and divine negotiations. Its foundation rests on planar convergences, its roots drink from them all—a crucible where realities bend, and the veil between worlds wears thin as ash.

Each wall is made of a different material: obsidian etched with angelic glyphs, hammered gold inscribed with infernal contracts, white marble that bleeds starlight, basalt with fungal runes from fae underworlds. It does not merely rise into the clouds—it pierces law, reason, faith. Its summit is unseen, uncharted, unreachable by any sane measurement.

The base is an architectural paradox—a fusion of temple, observatory, and fortress forged from star-iron and memory-stone, inscribed in a dozen dead tongues. Golden veins of summoning script pulse faintly beneath your feet, and hanging above are bells that do not ring with sound, but with intent. When they toll, reality listens.

The chamber's floor forms a perfect mandala: seven massive rings interlocking and rotating with glacial patience, their movements never quite aligned—like competing orbits or theological schools. At the heart of the chamber rises the Axis Mirror—a crystalline obelisk that reflects not your face, but what the summoned sees when they look into your soul. Within it drift common True Names like treats for students, waiting to be spoken and summon these beings.

There is no ceiling—only a dome of living night. Look up, and you witness the echo of distant realms: comets burning through void, leviathans swimming through vacuums, and serpents of gravity curling through dimensional bleed. When a name is spoken here, the dome ripples like disturbed water. And something out there always hears.

Here, the boundary between worlds is thinner than breath. What would take a circle of mages months to prepare elsewhere—sigils traced, altars aligned, offerings gathered—can be accomplished here in mere minutes. The Tower does not merely enable summoning—it exalts it.

Within these sacred walls, authority itself is magnified. The Tower acts as both conduit and amplifier, bolstering a summoner's will until even the humblest neophyte may speak with thunder across dimensions. It does not grant power—it demands it be recognized.

Entities of every conceivable nature—angelic, infernal, fae, elemental, cosmic, and stranger things with names only whispered in sleep—gather here. Some drift at the edges of perception, pressing against the veil, waiting to be seen. Others whisper from the cracks between bricks, eager to be known, bound, remembered. A few hold court openly, seated on glyph-thrones or floating in spirals of dimensional ink, debating fate, law, memory, and the soul-rights of mortals.

The Tower's structure encourages these engagements. It is a sanctum for diplomacy between realities. Some call it a divine embassy. Others believe it a weapon—a siege engine pointed not outward, but upward, toward heavens where no mortal was meant to breach. Here, contracts are forged not just in blood and magic, but in meaning itself. Summoners come seeking pacts. Some leave with allies. Others leave marked. None leave untouched.

Each level of the Tower hums with a different resonance—each a biome, a folded realm, a suspended truth. These layers are alive, shifting and recombining across epochs. They are more than rooms; they are metaphysical environments that test, reflect, and amplify the nature of the summons within.

You have places like the Garden of Winds, a vertical stormforest where sylphs ride bolts of lightning, and aerial glyphs grow on trees like fruit. The Cradle of Cinders, a scorched cavern glowing with molten script and elemental forges, used to summon firelords and earthbound titans. The Mirror Sanctum an endless glass-floored expanse where seers summon reflections of demigods and selves, often one and the same. The Hollow Choir, a vast cathedral where hymns cast themselves and celestials leave traces in voice alone. The Shattered Steppe, where gravity bends and folds here; time slips sideways. Ideal for speaking to cosmic or eldritch minds.

Image: https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/covers/images/003/838/284/smaller_square/karl-ricardo-colourcompsborderless.jpg?1477843419

These are not arenas. They are tests. Each plane within the Tower shapes the outcome of every summon. Each biome reacts differently to each summoner. What one sees as paradise, another may perceive as prison.

And beyond even these—the upper reaches climb still further, through realms unnamed, where only gods or madmen tread. But those who ascend the Tower of Heaven do not merely seek familiars. They seek understanding. Power. Communion. And in some cases, judgment.

Summoners dwell here like monks of an esoteric faith, their names etched in living glyphs, their footsteps known to the tower itself. But only the daring—or the desperate—ascend the Stairs of Heaven. To step beyond the threshold unsupervised is to gamble with one's soul. Fewer reach the upper biomes unscathed. When they return they are either enlightened, hollowed, transformed in ways no instructor's rubric could ever measure.

Yet for those who seek more than curriculum, who wish to forge pacts not only with power but with truth, the Tower offers not a challenge—but a kind of divine invitation. It is a sanctuary for the boundless. A place where ambition carves reality and intent reshapes fate.

Students can also come here to study from the tower on how pacts are made, solomantic diagrams are drawn, divine bindings are rendered, infernal temptations are made. There are Memory Wells which echo crystallized past summonings—whispers, images, or entire ritual echoes can be accessed. Within its deeper vaults lie archives beyond counting—scrolls and etched stones chronicling countless contracts, spanning back to the Academy's mythic founding and even before. There are Vaults of Names hidden in the stone—true names, sealed in rites and thorns, offering dominion over forgotten powers. Only those who know how to ask—and how to pay—may open them.

But it is not these treasures alone that give the Tower its name. It is what lies above that gives the Tower its name. The Tower of Heaven climbs into the clouds, then through them—past the atmosphere, past reason, into the veiled folds of unreality. There is no top visible to the naked eye. It simply continues. A spiraling ascent of stone and glass and spellwork, built to pierce the veils between worlds. Many say it was the first place humanity dared speak to the beings outside—the divine, the damned, and the indifferent. While others believe it is a slumbering god. Others claim it is a weapon, a siege spire, a cosmic spear, aimed straight at Heaven.

Image: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Yg5QK

Joshua had never seen the Tower of Heaven before—only heard of it in rumors, half-whispers, and forbidden footnotes. But now, as he walked the long bridge that led to its gates, past the last warded arch inscribed with names older than the time itself, he saw it in its full terrible glory. The tower did not rise—it loomed. A spire of impossible material and divine intent, it spiraled into the heavens, piercing clouds and law alike. Its foundation groaned with ancient glyphs and radiant seams of planar energy. The air buzzed like prophecy. Time felt fractured near its base—like reality bent in reverence.

The closer Joshua drew, the more he felt something in him resonate. As if his soul recognized the place, or perhaps the tower recognized him. Around the spiraling monolith, floating rings spun at impossible speeds—some faster than thought, others so slow they barely moved, each one engraved with planar sigils too complex for mortal minds. Echoes of long-dead chants and ancient pacts whispered from the walls in forgotten tongues. The air thickened with potential. Some doors along the inner corridor seemed to shift when he passed, watching him in silence—sentient gateways, judging worth.

Today, he had come to forge a bond. Today, he would summon an entity. This was a time-honored tradition of all magic users and what they were well known for. This was more than some spellcrafting exercise or academic rite—it was the beating heart of being a magic user. Throughout history, those who dared to walk the edge of what could be summoned—who formed contracts with things beyond understanding—became legends or tragedies. Sometimes both.

Besides that, what brought him was to fill his gap in his strength, patching a hole in his armor. He was now on the right track to not only survive in this school, but maybe even thrive. But one big glaring weakness of his besides of course his low talent and weak magic which he was working on, was his strength. He lacked raw power and to gain that it would take time and hard work which he feared he didn't have.

Things were progressing fast, he had a raid on another dorm he would be participating in, a new faction he was building, his allegiance to a very radical secret society which would bring its own troubles, he journey back into the Menagrie, his expedition with his school club that would come soon, and more issues that would pop its head.

And what better way to fix all that, until he would be able to gain enough power for himself, then to bind a powerful creature to him. So he came to the one place where raw might could be negotiated or forced.

Walking into the place he took in the sight, the Tower of Heaven unfurled like a paradox given form. The interior chamber was too large to exist within its outer structure, and yet it did—a spiraling world of summoning circles, floating courts, and biome-shifting levels stacked like chapters in a holy book. Glowing archways led to summoning halls suspended in voidlight, stairs folded into themselves as if disagreeing with gravity, and vast ritual balconies hovered miles above the ground, tethered by chains of radiant runes.

The ceilings shimmered with projections of other planes—some green with lightning, others ablaze with infernal cities or frozen in cosmic stillness. Everything was moving, watching, breathing.

Across this arcane cathedral were students from every branch of the Academy, already in the middle of making their own pacts or with their own summons walking besides the, There were a myriad of summons some were no bigger than wisps, others were towering gigantic creatures, some summons took the forms of humanoid beings, while others had monstrous forms.From ethereal knights, storm elementals, river-spirits, spectral jesters, and creatures made of mirror shards or dripping shadow.

Inside the atrium, the very air shimmered with anticipation. Strange glyphs hung midair like dust motes, and a faint chime rang every time someone thought too loudly. It was quiet—but not in the way silence usually worked. This was the silence before the spell, before the name was spoken. From behind a curving arch of liquid glass stepped a steward—its form tall and humanoid, but made entirely of starstuff, its body a living night sky scattered with nebulae and wandering planets. Eyes like collapsed suns regarded Joshua with distant calm.

"What are you seeking?" the steward asked, its voice like falling boulders across frozen time.

Joshua stood straighter. "I'd like to perform a summoning."

For a heartbeat, the steward didn't move. Then it raised a hand carved of midnight and starlight, and a sigil burst into the air—a perfect circle made of nine interlocked symbols, each one pulsing with its own metaphysical rhythm. "Then a chamber shall be made," it said.

From the far end of the hall, reality split open. A long, arched bridge extended outward—woven from glyph-light and anchored to nothing at all. It hovered over a chasm of prismatic mist and concept-space, an unfolding ribbon of raw magic. Joshua stepped forward, crossing the threshold. As he walked, gravity began to feel optional. His steps made no sound. With each pace, the world shifted—until he reached it: The Summoning Chamber.

It was not a room, not in any architectural sense. It floated in a domain of unreality, suspended on a lone platform forged from pure spellsteel, a metal that shimmered between states—sometimes black, sometimes mirror, sometimes glowing with ancient heat. The surface bore deep binding rings, spiraling out from the center in arcane fractals—anchoring marks of control, resonance, and communion. Some of them were old. Very old. Others seemed to carve themselves anew as he entered.

There was no floor beyond the circle, only an endless fall into something that looked like a dream dissected—layered veils of motion, magic, and unknowable space. No ceiling either, only a dome of impossible stars, arranged in constellations that didn't belong to any known sky. They twisted slowly, like they were watching. Listening. Waiting.

The temperature flickered between summer breeze and frostbite in pulses, following the beat of a heart that was not his. In the distance, lightning cracked in slow motion. It didn't strike—it unraveled, curling like script written across the sky in pure force. Every breath Joshua took here felt like a prayer. Every movement, a declaration. This wasn't just a summoning platform—this was a stage for cosmic negotiation, a battlefield for the soul, a place where one comes out on top as king.

A small pedestal emerged at the center of the summoning ring. Upon it: a soul-etched tablet and a chisel of binding bone—tools to write the true name. Below the pedestal, the runes had begun to glow. The ritual had not yet begun, but the Tower had already noticed him. Now… came the choice of what to call. And whether he could survive the answer.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/42925002695129417/

He stood at the center of the summoning ring, breath shallow, every heartbeat ringing louder than thunder in his ears. His fingers trembled, not from fear, but reverence—the sheer awareness of what he was about to call down. Slowly, he knelt.

With precise motions, Joshua drew a circle of invocation in void-chalk, each stroke echoing against the chamber's boundaries. Runes followed, etched with a hand steadied by weeks of obsessive study and restless ambition. They pulsed faintly at first—one for containment, one for intent, and one for invitation. And then, in the inner ring, he wrote a name.

Caelgor, the Maelstrom of Mayhem.

A name older than kingdoms. Unearthed from the forbidden corners of the Librarian Archives, scrawled in the margins of a redacted codex soaked in dried blood and chaos taint. A name not meant for first-years. Not meant for anyone still mortal.

This creature had a long, and storied history. From being weaponized by the Witch Queens of Arvenwald during their war with the Sea Lords. To warring with HellLords and being good friends with them, being a pain in the ass for demigods of law, to working with a sentient machine to conquer a world and stabbing it in the back as it exploited a glitch in its system.

The moment the final line was drawn, the air fractured. The chamber convulsed. A storm began to form inside the chamber. Colors bled from the walls. The sigils he'd traced began to shake, lines distorting. Chaos magic was never clean. Never still. He had studied the form—he had the rites prepared beforehand—but Caelgor was far beyond his level. The summoning ring cracked.

Energy flared, wind howled. Bolts of condensed entropy lashed from the air. Space twisted. Time stuttered. The Tower's walls shifted, resisting collapse. First came the laugh—high, spiraling, giddy with unspeakable joy. Then came a shape which begin to emerge: not solid, not sane—lightning forming eyes, mist shaping into horns, a swirling vortex of ruin, limbs rising and falling as if rethinking their configuration with every heartbeat.

"WHO CALLS THE MASTER OF CHAOS. THE BRINGER OF MAYHEM!?"

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/57350595248492822/

"My, my, my, what do we have here," it asked, looking about the place. "Ah, this must be the tower of heaven! So you must be a student of the Academy," it said, connecting the dots.

"How have you been able to get my name?" it asked as with a simple swipe of its claw or tentacles it shredded all his wards and barriers. "Don't answer. I will enjoy tearing out of you!"

Joshua staggered back, coughing blood from the backlash of his protections being destroyed so easily. His aura strained. His eyes bled from magical overload and mind frayed on the edge. This being was way behind his means. Its presence loomed over him like a planet mid-collapse. He reached into his coat and pulled out his Mentor Token. A coin forged of blackglass and brass, etched with a cross-shaped bullet.

"What do you have there?" the creature asked with a grin. A single spark of gunmetal light flickered in the air—and the Tower shifted again, as if it, too, recognized the one who would answer.

The mentor token in Joshua's hand pulsed—then burned, searing crimson light through his palm like a miniature flare star. Suddenly, the sky tore open like cloth ripped down the middle. Thunder cracked—not above, but within the chamber. From the sundered sky stepped a presence that eclipsed even the chaos elemental he had dared to summon making them look like children. Towering, terrible, and transcendent, the figure arrived without fanfare but with undeniable gravity—like judgment given shape.

A form so great which his brain could barely compute was there body like thunderclouds and star dust, eyes of cooled glassed obsidian, six spectral revolvers orbiting his back like slow moons. His mentor had arrived! GunSage Felgrim Saruman.

"What," came the cracking thunder of Felgrim's voice, calm yet carrying the weight of centuries, "have you gotten yourself into, my student?" Paying no heed to the other thing with them which was trying to make itself as small as possible.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/985231164526026/

"Master," he said with a bow. "I was trying to contract with a summon to help fill in the gaps of my lacking power. My apologies for taking you away from your great work."

"Already, powerhunger at such a young age, Excellent!" the old professor laughed out loud, his voice booming across the expanse.

"Thank you, master," was all Joshua could say with a nod.

Looking at the summoned being who was trying to escape, hurriedly reworking the summoning circle, Felgrim simply asked, "And where do you think you are going?"

Laughing awkwardly, Caelgor replied, "This is all a misunderstanding. I think I might be in the wrong place. Don't mean to intrude. Why don't you continue catching up, this is an amazing student and master bond!"

Joshua could only shake his head at how helpless and meek the elemental was acting, it was hard to tell exactly which rank it was at but it was obvious it was at the second Realm. However his master trumped it, being at the third Realm, and the gulf between realms let alone ranks or even circles was massive. The distance between them wasn't just numbers. It was philosophical, ontological, and absolute.

Just as he who was not even really at the 1st realm was an ant compared to this 2nd realm creature, it was the same thing for it as his master was at the 3rd realm.

"Come here, you little bugger," his master simply uttered which the other elemental froze up in place and was dragged before them. "You look like you have some potential. Contract with my student and I might let you live," he said tyrannically.

"This little punny human," it scoffed with the faintest edge of pride, already giving in as it knew the outcome, but putting up one final resistance.

"I see that you are at Tier 6, the Expert Rank, 7th Circle. Serve my students well and I might help you along your journey to advancement."

"Truly? A path to greater chaos..." the chaos elemental asked with barely contained glee. "Alright, if I must. I'll serve! Woe is me with my generous heart."

Joshua couldn't help but roll his eyes. "If you are done then. Let's finish this."

"Fine, fine," the creature said, getting back to the magic circle as he started the ritual back up.

Joshua also stepped into the ring, his aura blazing with reinforcement magic. "By storm and steel, I offer you path and purpose. Fight beside me—and I'll show you a world worth unmaking."

After that it was easy with the other creature playing along, barely resisting the binds he placed on it.

"Do you swear to serve loyally and faithfully?"

Caelgor paused. "I do," it said.

"Then kneel before your master, and show reverence!"

Slowly—the storm knelt. Lightning coiled around Joshua's arm, embedding itself like a brand. A voice echoed in his skull.

"Alright, mortal. Let's bring mayhem."

-

What sort of contract will you like to make with Caelgor, the Maelstrom of Mayhem?

Exchange Contract: A transactional bond. The entity offers specific abilities or resources in return for tribute—mana, sacrifices, emotions, memories, services, or items. The cost may be simple… or escalate with use.

Oath Contract: A mutual alignment of purpose. No payment—just shared mission. The bond grows stronger the more the mage and entity walk the same road. If the oath is broken… consequences follow.

Mark Contract: The entity brands the mage with a runic symbol, curse, or living glyph. You act as a servant, conduit, or avatar for entity.

Merge Contract: The entity is fused into an artifact, weapon, relic, or even a location. The summoner wields it like a living tool or partner—often with a will of its own.

Possession Contract: The most dangerous—and most intimate. The entity dwells within the summoner's body. This can be temporary (battle mode) or semi-permanent. They share senses, instincts, or even memories.

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Merge Contract

Potential Merging: He could merge Caelgor's essence into a gun or set of bullets, and so forth.

Benefits: Easy access to power. The item becomes legendary. You can train with it, upgrade it.

Risks: If the weapon breaks or is stolen, the bond is endangered. Also, some entities whisper and resist from within.

Upgrades: Merge contracts often require reforging, rituals, or unique artifact quests to unlock their full potential.

-

"Now where should I place you," Joshua muttered to himself, his eyes settled on the weapon resting against the ritual platform's edge—a simple revolver, its iron frame scratched, scorched, and patched together with scrapmetal, wire, and time. This was no legendary gun by any reckoning. It was crude. A relic from another life.

It had once belonged to his father or that's what his caretaker told him growing up. Then to him. It had fired warning shots at night beasts in the dust storms of his world. He'd cleaned it with a cloth soaked in melted snow. He'd loaded it with junk rounds and hopes. He had it when he crossed into the Academy. It had never let him down. And now—it would become something more.

As Caelgor's form simmered into mist and storm, Joshua stood firm inside the rune ring. "We're not doing a tether," he said, voice steady. "Not an marking. Not a summon-on-command. I'm offering you a merge."

The chaos elemental paused. Lightning flickered across its brow like raised eyebrows. "In that thing?" it said, gesturing at the battered gun with disdain.

Joshua didn't flinch. "That thing has survived more than most mages."

The elemental pulsed. A beat. Then laughter—low and thundering. "You've got gall, boy. And stubbornness. Very well. But know this—once merged, I cannot be undone without cost. So the decision will be final."

"Fine," Joshua said. "Just try not to explode my hand." He raised the revolver. With his other hand, he traced the contract of Merge in the air, the sigil flickering red and violet with unstable magic. Caelgor swirled into a vortex, sucked into the circle. The gun screamed—not from the metal, but the soul inside it, old and proud and defiant—until the chaos godling poured into its heart. The weapon exploded with light.

Every piece of its old body cracked, melted, reformed. The barrel twisted, spiral-carved by chaoswinds. The frame reshaped itself from iron to a dark alloy flickering with internal motion, like stormclouds caught under glass. The handle bore new grips: obsidian etched with sigils of entropy, resilience, and unmaking.

When he held it, it thrummed with latent potential. It wasn't just a tool anymore. It wanted to fire. It wanted to howl. And Caelgor's voice came—not from the air, but the chambers, the barrel, the trigger. "Let's burn the world to ash, partner."

"Hold your horses," Joshua said. "You will get your chance to unleash yourself!" Looking at it, he knew it needed a name. One that befit it. He couldn't go around calling it his gun.

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2744449769093052/

-

What would you like to name your new gun?

Cataclysm

-

I shall name you.. Cataclysm.

The word left Joshua's lips like a verdict, a vow, and a storm warning. The moment it was spoken, the gun pulsed—once, deep in its chamber—as if recognizing its new name. The chaos entity bound within snarled with laughter from the ether. "A fine name," Caelgor echoed, his voice spiraling through the chamber like a hurricane dragging chains of thunder. "May your enemies learn it in their last breath."

The weapon was no longer the worn revolver from his dusty Earth hometown. No longer just steel and grit. Now it shimmered with coiled potential—arcane etchings skimming its barrel, kinetic veins pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Sometimes, if one listened too long, they might hear the wind whispering oaths through the chambers.

Cataclysm was born: A gun and chaos made one, a symbol of defiance, and a weapon destined to alter fates—his, and the multiverse's. From this day forth, every shot he fired would not just hit—it would announce. "Joshua Kane was here!"

-

Congratulations you have Contracted with a Rare Tier 6 Chaos Element!

Benefits of a contracted entity!

Access to Entity Powers - Unlocks Signature Abilities of Entity that the summoner can wield directly.

Combat Support - The entity can be called into battle to fight alongside the summoner.

Magical Synergy - The entity enhances magic, changes up spellcasting, and even might allow access to some of its power.

Shared Knowledge - The entity brings ancient memories, planar secrets, or forbidden knowledge to the pact.

Personal Growth - Entity contracts often awaken hidden aspects in a mage—lineage traits, magical affinities, insights.

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Day 6 – Zarvian (+1 Beasts & Exploration)

Morning: Guncaster Fundamentals (Field Drill – Tactical Deployment)

The morning fog over the academy's southern range training field burned away quickly beneath a rising blue sun. Joshua stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a dozen other students—boots crunching on dust, spell-barrels primed, nerves buzzing. Cassian Varn towered in front of them, arms crossed, a smoking cigar jammed between his tusks.

"Today's about movement. Fire under pressure. Coordination." His obsidian eye gleamed. "Today, you hunt each other."

The drill was a simulated bounty scenario. Students were split into two teams, scattered across an abandoned magical testing zone replete with broken constructs, half-ruined archways, and lurking arcane hazards. The goal: tag your targets with nonlethal spell-rounds and capture the opposing team's 'bounty leader' while avoiding magical traps and misfires.

Joshua clicked a glyph-seal on his sidearm, feeling the familiar snap of arcane current flood his palm. Vesperrex, his chimera familiar, shadowed him through the ruins—silent and ever-watchful.

He moved through cover, laid down suppressing spellfire, and signaled allies with clicks and flashes—quick, decisive, precise. One harpy opponent swept in from above; Joshua rolled, flicked an explosive-charm midair, and watched it detonate into a concussive wave that knocked her from flight without injury.

By drill's end, his team had secured two captures and successfully extracted their leader. Cassian gave a rare grunt of approval. "You're starting to move like a gun thinks," he muttered. "Keep at it."

Current Body 7 - Stat Progress 2/70

Roll 1d7+1(instructor)+1(gav ball)+1(familiar)

Rolled 7

New Body 7 - Stat Progress 9/70

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Afternoon: Magic Puzzle Vaults (Spatial Thinking + Arcane Logic)

Scattered across the vast and shifting grounds of the Academy are challenges some older than memory offered to the students to test themselves against, one such arcane structures known only as Puzzle Vaults. They are ancient constructs of magic and logic left behind by a great academy's faculty member, and later further built by planar architects and forgotten magical orders. They rise at random, shift locations weekly, and reconfigure after every challenger. No two students ever walk the same path inside.

Each Vault is a living labyrinth of spellwork, geometry, and metaphysical tests, a trial not of strength but of clarity, cleverness, and arcane fluency. Runes shift when stared at too long. Staircases echo riddles back at you. Light moves with intent. Walls respond to spells—but not the ones you expect.

Coming to one of the puzzle vaults called the spiral of thoughts and form. It looked like a collapsed observatory from the outside, surrounded by hovering glyph-anchors and a door carved in recursive symbols. As he passed through, the air stilled. The world folded.

Inside found himself floating in a gravityless sphere with silence and silver light encompass the place. A vaulted chamber, a hollow cathedral of thought. Floating platforms spun slowly in the air, forming a 3D puzzle grid. Magical mirrors reflected spells—but not light. Stone keys floated above pillars, but shimmered out of reach. The far end? A locked gate with seven rings, each needing alignment before passage.

To proceed, he had to channel his reinforcement magic not through muscle, but through logic—strength applied to structure, instinct pressed into design. Vesperrex, coiled nearby in a ring of molten glyphs, watched with predatory stillness—like a tyrant waiting for his court to solve their own riddle.

Joshua climbed an inverted spiral staircase that vanished behind him. Cast spells not to blast but to balance harmonic pressure nodes. He built a bridge from willpower alone, aligned a map of starlight using memory fragments, and dodged illusion-anchors trying to convince him he had already won.

From there more challenges presented themselves. Displace and reflect energy bolts through a rotating series of elemental gates. Activate pressure runes in the correct mana-sequence. Align temporal glyphs while under a time-slowing and hastening hex, and more.

Joshua approached with caution, calling on his field experience, arcane training, and instincts. He didn't brute force the puzzles—he flowed with them. He used his few spells he had to overcome the challenges while Vesperrex seemed to be on a picnic watching him though he did occasionally growl when a path was false. Together, they navigated the rotating maze. At the end, when the final ring clicked into place, the chamber shifted again—revealing the path to the outside world.

Current Mind 5 - Stat Progress 22/50

Roll 1d5+1(needle)+1(familiar)

Rolled 4

New Mind 5 - Stat Progress 26/50

Current Spirit 4 Stat Progress 24/40

Roll 1d4+1(incense)+1(familiar)

Rolled 5

New Spirit 4 Stat Progress 29/40

Current Body 7 - Stat Progress 9/70

Roll 1d7+1(gav ball)+1(familiar)

Rolled 5

New Body 7 - Stat Progress 14/70

Current Reinforcement Magic 0-✩: 66/100

Roll for Magic(Affinity)[1d4(Magic) +1(familiar)+2 Bracer]

Rolled 7

New Reinforcement Magic 0-✩: 73/100