NOVEL NEXT Prologue - Book 2
Nick found himself standing in a vast circular chamber whose architecture defied conventional physics.
Last thing he remembered, he'd fallen asleep after viewing the last memory of his parents. His consciousness took in the chamber.
Where am I? He wondered as his eyes absorbed the structure surrounding him.
The walls of polished stone encircling him simultaneously absorbed and emitted light, curving upward to form a perfect dome whose center opened to reveal a night sky filled with unrecognizable stars. Constellations pulsed in patterns no human astronomer had ever cataloged, shimmering with colors nameless in earthly languages—deep violets bordering on ultraviolet, blues suggesting depths beyond ordinary perception, and golds carrying their own internal luminescence.
Nick tried to move but found himself frozen in place—unable to shift any part of his physical body except his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd felt trapped in his own body. When viewing Arlize's memories, he'd experienced this exact sensation.
As these thoughts formed, knowledge began flowing into his consciousness unbidden. This was the Council Chamber of the Watchers, guardians of the multiverse, representatives of countless civilizations united in a common purpose. He understood this with absolute certainty, though he had never heard the name before this moment.
What purpose? This thought rose unbidden as he realized he wasn't alone in the chamber.
Around him, twelve figures in formal robes of a blue darker than midnight, accented with silver geometric patterns, stood at equidistant points around a central dais. Their faces remained obscured by deep hoods, features lost in shadow despite the ambient light that seemed to emanate from the very air.
As if understanding his need to see, the ambient light blossomed, allowing Nick a glimpse through the openings of their hoods, startling him.
Some appeared nearly human, though their features suggested genetic divergence across thousands of years—with skin tones ranging from obsidian black to alabaster white, with surprising variations of azure, amber, and emerald in the mix. One figure possessed eyes that contained galaxies, actual spiraling star systems suspended in irises that shifted with cosmic movements. Another had features so mathematically perfect they seemed sculpted by divine precision.
Others diverged dramatically from the human form. A being whose skull extended backward into an elongated crest housing what appeared to be secondary neural structures. A face composed of facets that refracted light into an impossible spectrum. A countenance that seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously, parts of it folding into spaces Nick's mind couldn't fully process.
Most unsettling were those who seemed to lack physical form entirely—beings composed of pulsing light patterns or swirling energy signatures contained within the rough approximation of a humanoid shape. One hood contained only darkness punctuated by points of light that formed and dissolved like constellations being born and dying in accelerated time. Another revealed what appeared to be a liquid intelligence, flowing and reshaping itself in constant motion, yet Nick sensed intense power and intelligence emanating from the being.
Only their hands were visible—some bearing five fingers, others six or seven, some covered in scales or jewel-like growths, others seeming almost liquid in their movement. Yet all bore the same subtle blue luminescence beneath their varied skin that Nick now recognized as mana pathways, the universal energy that transcended dimensional boundaries. This knowledge shouldn't be his, yet it felt familiar, like remembering something long forgotten rather than learning something new.
The air felt charged with potential, like the moment before lightning strikes. Looking down, Nick couldn't tear his eyes away; for a dizzying moment, it felt as though the floor would swallow him whole. The mosaic tiles stretching from wall to wall appeared forged from materials that defied his understanding. Some sections gleamed with a metallic sheen, others rippled like liquid frozen in time, and still others radiated a soft, pulsing luminescence of their own. Unable to look away, he wondered, What is this?
Unbidden, words flowed into his consciousness like water finding its level. This is a map of the multiverse.
He didn't know where this knowledge was coming from, but he felt grateful for it.
He studied the map, amazed by what lay before him.
From his position behind the first speaker, he had a perfect view of the intricate artistry. Thousands—no, millions—of worlds were represented by small spheres of varying sizes and compositions. Some pulsed with vibrant energy, others glowed with steady illumination, while a disturbing number appeared dim and gray, like dying embers. Lines of golden energy connected these worlds in complex patterns that Nick somehow recognized as dimensional pathways—the cosmic infrastructure that separated realities while allowing controlled transference between compatible zones.
Earth's representation was surprisingly small—a blue-green marble positioned in what appeared to be the outer region of one spiral arm. It lacked the brilliant luminescence of the central worlds but possessed a distinctive aura, a shimmer of potential that fluctuated as Nick watched. Dozens of golden threads extended outward from Earth, though most looked thin and fragile compared to the robust connections older worlds maintained. One connection in particular caught his attention—a fading crimson line linking Earth to a shattered sphere that emanated strange, discordant energy even in its broken state.
That is Aurilia. The knowledge crystallized in his mind. Arlize's destroyed homeworld. The connection wavered like a dying heartbeat.
"The Veil must be maintained for now," declared one voice from beneath a hood bearing subtle silver markings that identified its wearer as the First Speaker. The words resonated with an authority that shook the very air, each syllable carrying undertones that vibrated through Nick's bones. "Earth approaches the Threshold, but the consequences of premature mana integration would be catastrophic. Human consciousness requires proper preparation before full exposure to the wider multiverse."
Nick felt a strange double-recognition at these words—understanding completely what they meant while simultaneously having no context for their discussion. It was like reading a familiar book in a language he'd never studied.
"Yet their technological growth accelerates beyond our projections," countered another figure—this voice lighter, feminine, coming from a slender figure whose hands bore intricate tattoos that shifted like living circuits beneath her skin. "Their quantum experiments alone have created seventeen breach points in the last decade. The Princeton anomalies. CERN. The resonance experiments at Westlake University. The boundary grows thinner with each passing cycle, whether we wish it or not."
At the mention of Westlake, Nick felt a jolt of recognition. His university. Professor Harrington's chaotic demonstration. The students who had collapsed, those that had died.
"The humans know nothing of what they approach," said a third Watcher, this one's hands entirely mechanical, composed of gem-like implants and flowing metallic components that reconfigured themselves with each subtle movement. "They mistake mana signatures for unusual energy patterns. They record dimensional fluctuations as quantum anomalies. They classify extra-dimensional entities as cryptids or hallucinations. Even now, they broadcast their existence into the void, unaware that their transmissions pierce barriers established for their protection."
The mechanical Watcher gestured, and a holographic display materialized in the center of the chamber—Earth, surrounded by a network of satellites and transmission signals extending outward into space. Nick recognized the Pioneer plaque, Voyager's golden record, radio and television broadcasts—humanity's attempts to announce its presence to a universe they believed empty. Only now did he understand: those messages had been received. They were not alone.
"Which is precisely why the Dentragon soul-echo requires active guidance rather than passive observation," the mechanical Watcher continued, voice carrying scientific detachment. "The reincarnation into the Valiente bloodline provides the necessary bridge between worlds. When Earth's mana awakening comes—"
"If it comes naturally," the First Speaker corrected sharply.
"When," the mechanical Watcher insisted, stepping forward slightly, breaking the perfect symmetry of their arrangement. "The calculations are clear and have been verified across seven independent probability matrices. Earth has reached the one-third mark in its civilizational development—the crucial period when mana naturally begins to manifest in any world that will join the greater cosmos. The question is not if, but how the transition occurs. Guided awakening through reincarnated souls is our best approach for minimizing chaos."
The chamber's ambient light pulsed in response to the rising tension, shifting toward amber hues that cast longer shadows across the floor's intricate mosaic. Nick noticed Earth's position in the pattern now illuminated more brightly than before, a subtle pulse of energy traveling along the connection lines from other worlds toward the representation of his home planet.
"And what of Arlize Dentragon's consciousness merging with the human Nicholas?" asked yet another voice, this one closer to Nick, belonging to a smaller figure whose golden-scaled hands showed signs of recent injury—burned fingertips wrapped in what appeared to be living bandages that pulsed with healing energy. "Even with careful selection, consciousness restoration across dimensional boundaries remains unpredictable. The last six attempts resulted in significant psychological fragmentation. The Thessian Incident alone cost us three viable worlds."
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The mention of the Dentragon name and his last name sent a wave of disorientation through Nick's awareness. The name was achingly familiar, like the face of a loved one glimpsed in a crowd. He knew it somehow, though he couldn't remember why it felt so familiar...
Why couldn't he remember? What did he remember? His parents' last memory, flying with Marcus Eidolon to Colombia, The Sanctuary, Zora, Jordan, Maggie…The Shard! Arlize! Memories from the past three weeks crashed over him in a relentless flood. The sheer speed of it all made his head throb. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to dull the pain. Finally, blissfully, the memories ceased, and he remembered what he had lost. Just as he was about to open his eyes again, someone else spoke.
"Isn't this precisely why the Valiente family was chosen," the feminine voice replied, her words carrying a hint of impatience now.
At the repeated mention of his family name, Nick opened his eyes and searched the chamber, trying to find the speaker.
His gaze landed on one of the humanoid figures—a woman standing directly across from him, her posture sharp with restrained tension. Intricate tattoos ran down the length of her ebony arms, glowing faintly like living circuits, shifting in delicate patterns beneath her skin as she moved. Her face, partially shadowed by her hood, revealed high, elegant cheekbones and a sharply defined jawline, features that would have been almost human if not for the subtle gleam of crystalline filaments threading through her dark skin. Her eyes, though not looking at him, projected a soft, silver light, as if reflecting stars no Earthen sky had ever witnessed. Every line of her expression was carved with conviction—and something deeper still: anger, sorrow, and a fierce, unyielding will.
"Their souls resonate naturally with those from Aurilia. The grandfather's spirit recognized this connection during the Harmonic Convergence of 1967. The parents further prepared the path through their work before their untimely end."
The mention of his parents and grandfather sent a shock through Nick's system. These beings—this Council—were discussing his family as if they knew them intimately.
"An end you opposed rather vocally, Seer Lysandra," the First Speaker noted coolly, turning slightly toward the feminine figure. "Your objections were noted in the Council records. Repeatedly."
"Their deaths were unnecessary and tactically shortsighted," the feminine voice—Lysandra—responded with barely contained anger that made the air around her crackle with suppressed energy. "The Valientes were successfully implementing the protocols at a measured pace. Their loss has disrupted years of careful preparation and may have compromised Earth's entire mana awakening."
Her hands clenched, the circuit-like tattoos on her arm moving wildly before settling back against her skin. "If what Eidolon reports is accurate, Callahan's faction has already begun crude attempts at forced resonance manipulation."
At the mention of Eidolon, several figures shifted uncomfortably, the perfect stillness of the Council disturbed by what appeared to be a contentious topic. One of the Watchers—a towering figure whose hands appeared composed of living flame—actually took a step back, as if physically recoiling from the name.
"Eidolon's role in this matter remains problematic," said a new voice, deep and resonant, belonging to a Watcher whose hands seemed composed of living shadow. "His methods during the Aurilian collapse—"
"Are not the subject of today's deliberation," the First Speaker interrupted, raising a hand that momentarily cast the chamber into absolute silence, as if sound itself obeyed his authority. "The Council has made its determination after full deliberation. The Arcadian Protocol will proceed as established in the Planetary Awakening Directive."
The First Speaker gestured, and the holographic display of Earth transformed, overlaid now with a complex lattice of glowing points interconnected by flowing lines of energy. Nick recognized several familiar landmarks—the buildings at Westlake University, and other significant locations across the United States including the Pentagon, the Grand Canyon, and Area 51.
In Europe, Callahan Industries' primary research facility in Zurich stood out as a bright spot, but Nick also noticed Paris' Eiffel Tower, London's Buckingham Palace, and Rome's Colosseum. As his gaze swept around the world, he observed Jordan's Petra, Dubai's Burj Khalifa, India's Taj Mahal, China's Great Wall, Zimbabwe's Victoria Falls, Egypt's Library of Alexandria, and finally, Brazil's Christ the Redeemer. Some of these were centers of information and power. Others were cherished landmarks, representing the heart of the people in the nations where they stood.
"The memory shards will be placed at the designated nodes according to the original timeline," the First Speaker continued, his voice resonating with finality. "Nicholas Valiente, bearing the reborn soul of Arlize Dentragon—" Nick felt a strange resonance at the words, knowing with absolute certainty that they referred to him, "—will either successfully integrate his dual nature and guide Earth's transition, or the failsafe will activate."
"And if the failsafe activates?" Lysandra challenged, stepping forward until she stood directly opposite the First Speaker, the chamber's energy shifting in response to their confrontation. "Have you calculated the consequences? The possibility that Earth may suffer the same fate as Aurilia? The millions of souls that will be lost if Earth's mana awakening becomes a cataclysm?"
The holographic display shifted again, revealing a planet that was not Earth—larger, with two moons and rings that resembled Saturn's but glowed with internal light. As Nick watched, cracks of blazing energy spread across the planet's surface like lightning, fracturing the landmasses and boiling away oceans. In seconds, the entire world shattered into fragments, the pieces spinning away into a void that seemed to consume light itself.
A heavy silence fell over the chamber, broken only by a subtle hum that seemed to emanate from the stars themselves. The Council members stood frozen, the moment stretched between heartbeats as the weight of the question hung in the air.
Finally, the First Speaker responded, his voice quieter but somehow more terrible in its certainty:
"Then Earth will face its awakening without guidance. If Nicholas fails to integrate the memory shards and establish proper mana circulation pathways when the Veil fully dissolves, chaos will reign. The natural order must be preserved, no matter the cost."
"You speak of recycling," Lysandra accused, her voice cutting through the somber atmosphere like a blade. "You would sacrifice an entire civilization rather than attempt intervention."
"Would you prefer we allow another Void Incursion?" the First Speaker challenged, his composure finally cracking. "Need I remind you what happened when the Thorians refused recycling? Three neighboring dimensions consumed by entropy. Billions of souls not just lost but erased from the cosmic record. Some worlds must be sacrificed to preserve the greater balance."
"And you've determined Earth is expendable?" Lysandra's words carried both accusation and grief. "A world with such potential, such diversity of thought and expression?"
"All worlds have potential," the First Speaker replied, regaining his calm. "All souls have value. The decision is not made lightly, Seer Lysandra. But it is made."
Another figure spoke up—one who had remained silent until now. Their form shifted constantly, difficult to discern as it moved between states of matter with each subtle movement. Where others had hands, this being possessed appendages that transformed continuously—fingers becoming tentacles becoming branches becoming streams of light, never settling on a single form.
"We've seen this pattern before," the shifting figure said, its voice encompassing all possibilities simultaneously—neither male nor female, young nor old. "A world on the cusp of awakening, manipulating energies they don't understand. But Earth has something the others didn't."
"And what might that be?" asked the First Speaker.
"They have Arlize reborn among them," the shifting figure replied. "One who has witnessed firsthand the consequences of careless mana manipulation. One who carries the wisdom of a fallen civilization. If any world can navigate this transition, it is one guided by those who have already failed once."
Nick felt a strange pressure building behind his eyes as the meaning of these words sank in. He wasn't merely carrying memories or power from another world—he was Arlize, reborn with purpose. Not a vessel or experiment, but a soul given another chance to prevent a catastrophe he had witnessed before.
The revelation should have been shocking, incomprehensible. Yet instead, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place, explaining the strange dreams he'd had since childhood. The inexplicable knowledge that sometimes surfaced in his mind. The sense of déjà vu when he first walked the grounds of Westlake University. The instinctive distrust he'd felt toward Matt Callahan from their very first meeting.
As if responding to his thoughts, the holographic display shifted, revealing a man Nick recognized immediately: Matthew Callahan, heir to Callahan Industries, his former best friend. The man who would betray him. Who had already betrayed him, in a future that no longer existed.
"The Callahan bloodline remains problematic," the mechanical Watcher said, studying the display. "Their genetic affinity for mana manipulation makes them ideal vessels for the Arcadian Protocol, yet their lineage consistently produces individuals who seek power at any cost."
"The father has already begun experiments that mirror the Aurilian catastrophe," Lysandra added. "And the son follows the same path."
"Which is precisely why Arlize's reincarnation is essential," the shifting figure countered. "Only one who understands the personal cost of such ambition can effectively counter it."
The First Speaker raised his hand, and the holographic display vanished. "Enough. The pieces are in motion. The memory shards are placed. The Arcadian System will activate according to the established timeline." He turned to address the entire Council. "This session is concluded. Return to your observation posts and monitor the transition as directed. Intervention is authorized only in cases of direct extradimensional incursion."
The Council members began to withdraw, their forms fading like mist as they departed the chamber. Only Lysandra remained, her attention now focused directly on Nick, though he had believed himself invisible to the proceedings.
"You see us," she said simply, not a question but a statement. "Earlier than expected. The connection grows stronger."
Nick tried to speak but found he had no voice in this place, existing only as awareness without physical form.
"You cannot respond yet," Lysandra continued, moving closer until she stood directly before him. She lowered her hood, revealing a face of striking beauty. Her dark skin shimmered with embedded points of starlight. Her irises shifted through colors beyond the human spectrum, and silver hair cropped close to her scalp. "But you can listen. Remember."
She reached out, placing her hand not on but through what would have been Nick's chest, directly into the center of his awareness. Images flooded his mind: a grand city of crystal spires and floating gardens, technology seamlessly integrated with natural elements, beings of varied forms living in harmony—Aurilia in its prime.
Then darkness spread, cracks in reality forming as experiments to enhance mana flow went catastrophically wrong. Billions of lives, extinguished in an instant as dimensional barriers collapsed. He had died before witnessing this, but now the devastation rocked him to his core.
"Remember what was lost," Lysandra whispered, her voice resonating both in his ears and directly in his mind. "Earth stands at the same precipice Aurilia once did. You failed to save one world." Her eyes locked with his, galaxies boring into him. "You must not fail again."
The vision began to fade, the Council chamber dissolving around him like mist beneath the morning sun. Nick felt himself falling, spinning through layers of consciousness, tumbling back toward his physical form, toward the life waiting for him. Lysandra's words echoed in his mind, burning themselves into his memory:
Remember what was lost. You must not fail again.